Drake shook his head. “I figured it was you guys who shot me.”
“When you went missing, we decided to raid the place and got into a gunfight with a stupid prick who didn’t know when to quit.”
“Did you kill him?”
Craig waved a hand dismissively. “The kid? No, we got him in the leg, and he’s in custody with the local PD.”
“You got the bad guy in the leg and shot me in the gut. My faith in law enforcement is restored.”
“Well, we did get you out of there instead of letting you slowly, painfully waste away from a Selecure overdose. Instead, you essentially have a flesh wound. Does that help restore your faith in law enforcement?”
“I am sure your higher-ups would have frowned on leaving me there.”
“I was less worried about my ‘higher-ups’ than I was about Adam. If we hadn’t breached as a unit, he would have gone in himself and gotten you both killed.”
Drake huffed. “He that concerned over losing an asset?”
“You’re a stupid fuck, you know that,” Craig growled, his voice low. “Adam has been working his cover for over three years, moving from bar to bar and club to club to get to a place where the intel was good. This has been a five-year operation, and as soon as he realized that you were gone, he didn’t even think twice about breaking his cover.”
In his anger, Craig had clenched the sidebar on the bed, and his knuckles were white from his unrelenting grip. “I don’t know what all went on between you two, and I don’t want to know, but I do know that this damn investigation hit a major pothole as soon as you got involved.”
Drake eyed the man warily, blinking up at the domineering figure. He didn’t know what to believe because all he knew was that he had spilled his guts out and he hadn’t even gotten a real name in return. Scotty knew everything about him, everything about his past, about his role in the cartel. What did Drake know about him? Absolutely nothing.
Drake nibbled on his dry bottom lip. “Where is he?”
Craig stood back, his grip lessening on the bed. “After your little outburst last night, the doctors decided it would be best if he stayed away for now. And I agree with them, due to the nature of your relationship.”
“Relationship,” Drake mumbled. Could it be called a relationship if it only went one way? But he kept thinking back to when he first woke up and how much better he felt knowing that Scotty was there. Even later, when Adam had been about to walk out the door, Drake hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of his leaving, let alone the crushed look on the man’s face.
“I don’t want to know about it. I already know too much and we don’t need anything else to happen that could be damaging to our case. Especially damaging to Adam. He’s already taking a lot of flak for breaking cover, but hopefully with the extra information you’ll give us it will help smooth the waters.”
Drake’s brows rose. “You want me to give you information? Testify in court?”
“I figured that would be obvious, what, with your… extracurricular activities, you have a fair knowledge of the inner workings of the Boredega cartel. You’ve made it in farther than we have ever been able to.”
Drake’s mouth dropped open. Was he serious? “Really? You want me to testify? Against Boredega? You remember that the last time anyone got close enough to take him to court everyone on the operation was killed, right?”
“Times have changed. We have better intelligence now; we have better knowledge about how the cartel operates.”
“Except you still don’t have the guy! He’s a ghost. No one knows who or where he is, and he’s still out there selling drugs and killing people, while you and every other agency chases their tails!”
“Well, actually, thanks to you, we have a pretty good idea where to start looking. That flash drive we picked up has quite a bit of good information on it. Now, we need someone to back up the claims with some cold hard facts, which you should be able to do for a good portion of the evidence….” Craig let his words trail off as Drake gaped at him. “What?”
Drake blinked a couple of times trying to put everything together in his head. “Flash drive? What flash drive?”
Craig gave him a derisive look. “The one that shows all the offshore accounts. The one you told Adam about. When Adam reported it in, we felt it was too important to let sit.”
“But I deleted it,” Drake said. “And none of the information on that is real. It has the money going into accounts with my name on them! I didn’t take the money!” As Drake spoke, his voice became louder. “What could that flash drive do but put me behind bars? Boredega wouldn’t have any trouble getting to me then!”
Waving off a nurse who stuck her head in the room, Craig frowned. “What are you talking about? Of course we took the flash drive. We had the information restored, and we have analysts looking it over. Agent Graft already put in his report that it was a falsified document. Doesn’t mean that there aren’t facts on there or areas to pursue. Besides, to be authentic the money would have to sit in those accounts for a while until the kid or whoever is behind the money skimming moved it. We at least have a place to start looking now.”
“But why me? You said Jacob is in local PD custody, and Natasha would have more information than me.” Drake didn’t like the silence that met that question. “I’m assuming that you picked up both Jacob and Natasha…. You did get them, right? I mean, they were both right there.”
Craig nodded. “We got the kid, but the girl had already left by the time we breached. We have an APB out on her, but right now she is in the wind.”
Drake laughed, the sound coming from deep in his throat. “Yeah, well, good luck finding her. I’m sure she’s long gone by now.”
Craig looked down at Drake curiously. “She wasn’t in any of the reports as anything more than a possible user and occasional dealer. She wasn’t a main priority. What do you know?”
Drake laughed again closing his eyes to lean back into his soft pillow. “She’s not just some stupid hooker. She’s Boredega’s daughter.”
Craig cursed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a phone. “You’re sure about this?”
Drake huffed, “Straight from her lips.”
“You didn’t think it was important to lead with that information?”
Drake smirked, eyes still shut. “I didn’t realize it was my responsibility to tell you how to do your job.”
Cursing again, Craig used wide fingers to navigate on his phone. “Agent Donnelly here,” Craig said as he walked toward the door. Before he could leave, Drake called his name.
Craig asked the person who answered to hold and waited, brows arched.
“Could you, uh, ask Special Agent Graft to, uh….” Drake let his voice trail off.
After a moment of hesitant deliberation, Craig dropped his chin in a firm nod, then walked out of the room, issuing the new information over the phone.
Another suit stood in the doorway as soon as Craig exited. The man peeked in, giving Drake a quick once-over, then with a subtle nod closed the door, blocking out the hospital ambiance with a severe snick. Drake let the silence glide over him, let the new information and situation sink in. Exhaling a tight breath, he let his head fall back on his pillow. With heavy thoughts whirling through his head, he blinked up at the white ceiling, the simplicity of it soothing some of his frenzied anxiety. Huh, maybe there was a point to the white after all.
Chapter 24
TIME PASSED in a haze. The drugs they had him on kept Drake in a sort of stupor. All he knew was that there was a flurry of nurses and doctors that he saw through each bout of consciousness, but he couldn’t be sure how long he’d been in the hospital bed or how long each fall into unconsciousness lasted. He had checked the chair next to his bed each time he was able to pull himself out of the black, but he had yet to see the man he desperately, although reluctantly needed to see. More times than not, there was a suit sitting in the chair, but it was never the one he thought (hoped?) would be there.
Drake couldn’t help but find the humor in personal guard. If having a man with a gun was enough to stop Boredega or his men, they would have stopped the cartel by now. In fact, Drake couldn’t be sure that one of the men sitting at his bedside wasn’t on Boredega’s payroll. It was one of the factors that had brought his father’s case to the ground—inside men—and Drake knew all too well how resourceful they could be. It wasn’t a question of if Boredega would get to him, but when.
However, before he succumbed to that particular dark fate, he needed to see Adam at least one more time. No matter how much the betrayal hurt, how much it pulled at his chest to think that nothing Scotty had done or said was real, he needed to see Adam. He couldn’t leave it how it was. He didn’t want the last memory Adam had of him to be one of rage. He didn’t want the last words he heard from Adam to be begging for forgiveness.
Drake was counting on Special Agent Donnelly keeping his word and telling Adam about his request. As much as it was probably a bad idea for both of them emotionally and especially for Adam professionally, Drake thought the agent understood. Craig may have been big and brawny, but he wasn’t stupid, as much as he did deny knowing anything about what had happened between Drake and his partner.
“You know,” Drake said, shifting to pull himself into a straighter position, “if you’re going to just be sitting there, you could at least make yourself useful.”
The suit arched a brow, watching Drake struggle with his bandaged abdomen. Finally getting himself into a more comfortable position, Drake picked up his glass of water and sucked a large gulp out of the straw. He set the cup down with a sigh of satisfaction and eyed the seated suit once again.
“Did you bring cards? Please tell me that at least one of you Men in Black guys thought to bring some cards.” At the unamused look from the suit, Drake quipped, “Dice? Crosswords? Sudoku? Anything? Scotch?” he ended with a hopeful lilt.
“Not my job to entertain you,” the suit remarked.
“Um, yeah, it’s to keep me alive, but right now you are killing me with boredom. At least with scotch I could enjoy the boredom.”
“Don’t they have you on the good stuff?” The tentative voice came from the doorway, and Drake’s heart leapt as, finally, golden eyes met his.
Adam entered the room cautiously, probably expecting Drake to throw him out or possibly to rampage again, but as much as Drake wanted to be angry, wanted to yell and scream, it was nothing compared to the relief he felt at being in the same room with him again.
“May I come in?” Adam asked tentatively.
Drake swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and nodded. The suit stood as Adam entered, passing him with a nod as he walked out the door, closing it behind him, sealing the two of them in alone together.
“How, uh—” Adam started, then paused, fidgeting, and tried again. “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” Drake answered with a slight lift of his shoulders.
“I’m sorry. Stupid question.” Adam coughed awkwardly. “But…. you, uh, you seem better. Than before, I mean,” Adam said. His mouth opened like he was going to continue, but nothing came out.
Silence stretched around them, the awkward quiet heavy in the air.
How did they go from here? What did you say to someone who you thought you knew, only to find out that their entire being was a lie? How did Drake tell Adam how angry he was, how incredibly betrayed he felt? How did he tell him that none of it mattered and that what they had transcended physical limitations? In the end, what did it matter what either one of them said, because Adam was a cop and Drake was a criminal, no matter his intentions. The path to hell and all that jazz.
Drake cleared his throat, breaking the silence. Adam, who still stood just in front of the closed door as if ready for a quick exit, looked up. Hope-ridden eyes met his. Drake had to lick his lips before he could speak. “Agent, er, uh, Craig, he uh, filled me in on some things.”
Adam swallowed visibly, nodding. “Good. That’s… good.”
“I’m sorry about before—”
Stepping forward, Adam held out a placating hand. “No, no, don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right. I was the one who lied. Who kept lying. Even after you told me everything, even after I told you….” Any power Adam had to hold himself straight seemed to leave him at that moment. His body buckled and he landed in the chair next to Drake’s bed.
“I hurt you. I hurt you, and that was the last thing I wanted. I know you probably don’t believe anything I say anymore, but please believe that. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was trying my best to protect you.”
Watching the man who had the ability to light up the atmosphere with a smile, and flirt his way into a 40 percent tip with just a wink, slump in the overstuffed hospital chair with his brows knit and his hands wringing made heat sear behind Drake’s eyelids.
“Did you—” Drake had to stop to gain control of his voice. Fighting the lingering waver, he continued, “Was it all an act? To get information from me?”
Adam’s head shot up. He shook it vehemently. “What? No.”
“You didn’t sleep with me to get close to me?”
Adam continued to shake his head. “No, I didn’t sleep with you because of any of this!” He gestured wildly around the room. “I slept with you despite all of this.”
“So, what was that thing with Craig in the parking lot, hmm? You do that for shits and giggles?”
Adam had the good sense to look bashful. He averted his eyes momentarily. “Yes, I was supposed to get to close to you. You were my target. I was supposed to become a confidant for you, someone you would feel comfortable sharing information with. And I had to do that any way possible, and let’s face it, damsel in distress works for you. But…. Maybe it started out that way. And if I could, I would go back and tell you the truth before everything happened, but please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t sleep with you because I had to. I did it because I wanted to. Because I found myself thinking about you when I shouldn’t have been, and the image of you in my head was enough to… to….” Adam swallowed, closing his lips tight, then let his shoulders hang.
Nodding, Drake let his head fall back. He stared up at the white ceiling, the simplicity of it calming him.
“I never meant to hurt you, Drake. After you told me about your past and about your family, I wanted to protect you even more, and I thought that the only way I could do that was to keep my identity secret.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Drake’s voice was hoarser than he liked.
Silence filled the air as Adam contemplated the question. “I wanted to. I really wanted to.” Adam left it at that.
Drake got it. It wasn’t like he had hidden his feelings about the authorities or their abilities. Scotty had begged him to go to the police, and every time, Drake had shot him down without hesitation. So he did get it. He did. He just hadn’t expected it to hurt so fucking much.
They both had regrets about their past, but in the end what did any of it matter when Drake was living on borrowed time? No one ever testified against the cartel. No one ever made it that close to a courthouse; usually they didn’t even make it that close to the police station. As much as Drake wanted to latch on to the words that Adam was giving him, wanted to engorge himself on the knowledge that Scotty hadn’t all been a lie, that if things had been different maybe they could have had a life together, it wasn’t the reality and they both knew it.
With each breath, he felt his resolve strengthen. Dropping his chin back down to once again meet Adam’s eyes, Drake couldn’t help but notice how young Adam looked in his dark suit. Sure, it looked good on him, the dark color bringing out the yellow hues in his eyes, but more than anything he looked like a kid playing dress-up with his daddy’s clothes. His face was too young, too innocent to be encased in something with so much responsibility.
“Look, I—” Drake began, but just as he was about speak, the door pushed
open.
Special Agent Craig Donnelly strode in, and in an instant Adam lost all of his uncertainty. His little-kid-in-a-big-suit look melted away, and suddenly he was an agent. Seeing the transformation before his eyes, Drake swallowed. That was more like the Scotty he remembered, confident and ready for anything.
“What is it?” Adam said, and Drake’s eyes widened. Even his voice had hardened. It was as if the timid man from just a few moments ago didn’t exist.
Drake needed to remember that. The man was a chameleon. He had been working undercover convincingly enough for over three years; his identity might be as unknown to Adam as it was to Drake.
“There was an attempt on the kid in holding,” Craig said, pulling some clothes out of a bag he’d brought into the room. He threw them on the bed at Drake’s feet. “Get dressed. We’re going to move you to a more secure facility.”
Drake moved gingerly as Adam pressed for more information. “Attempt?”
“A drunk and disorderly made it into holding with a shiv. Jacob lost a lot of blood, but they got it under control. They’re putting him in solitary for the time being.”
Adam cursed. “I thought he would get a little leeway being family.”
“Solitary won’t help if it’s a guard or a cop, hell, even a lawyer, on the Boredega payroll.” Drake coughed, holding his side. He hadn’t realized how much he still hurt until he tried to dress himself. “I’m surprised I’m still kicking with the amount of doctors and nurses in and out of here.”
Craig shrugged. “You’re here under an alias.” Craig ignored Drake’s snort of contempt. “Anyway, word on the street is that Tony is the one who put the hit on him and Drake both. The local PD is doing everything they can to make as little interaction as possible.”
Adam reached forward to help Drake slip his shirt on. He moved cautiously, careful not to make any skin-to-skin contact.
As much as they were in a hurry, and no matter how much Drake was aware that now was not the best time to be worrying about something as small as lust, he couldn’t help but shiver at the heat of Adam’s fingers as they smoothed the cotton over his shoulders and down his sensitive torso. Closing his eyes, he dragged in a ragged breath, before meeting Adam’s gaze. Mere seconds passed, but it felt like an eternity of time as Drake swam in fields of goldenrods teeming with the same longing that gripped him.
Semblance Page 20