Crossroads

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Crossroads Page 7

by Chantal Fernando


  I graze my thumb across her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut. She likes me touching her, and I like touching her. What’s the issue here? She’s Jo, and I’m Ranger, nothing more and nothing less, like we both agreed before we got on the plane. So what’s the problem? What’s stopping me from sinking inside of her once we’re done with our day, holding her close every night? Does she just see me as her enemy, no matter what she agreed to? Or does she feel guilty, thinking that she shouldn’t be able to enjoy herself until Elizabeth is found?

  “Okay,” she whispers, turning her face into my hand. “I won’t. While we’re here, there are no rules, right? Nothing else exists. We aren’t our labels, we’re just us.”

  “Jo and Ranger,” I reiterate, eyes softening. “It’s just us, trying to find Elizabeth, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves when we’re off duty. Life is short, Jo. You never know what can happen.”

  “I know,” she says, looking away. “But finding her is the priority.”

  “I know.”

  And I do. But when we’re alone, Jo clouds my mind. All I can see is her. It’s not wrong for me to admit that.

  She takes a step back, her expression going blank. “We need to get to the police station and see what we can find today. Time is running out, Ranger.”

  I know this, but when we get back here this evening, after we’ve exhausted ourselves, I want her in my bed. Or me in hers—I’m flexible.

  I head to my room and jump in the shower as fast as I can.

  Time to see how the interrogation went.

  • • •

  “They might as well offer him a doughnut and ask him if he wants a fuckin’ massage,” I mutter, watching through the window as the detectives question the man. They’re being so fuckin’ gentle with him, it’s like they’re interviewing him for a job or something.

  “What do you want them to do?” Jo asks, glancing sideways at me. “Punch him in the face every time he doesn’t answer a question?”

  “To start with,” I say, my hands clenching to fists as I picture the women in the cages, the looks of hopelessness on their faces. “He’s given only two names so far, and what’s the bet they’re the bottom of the barrel? We need something on him so that he’s more scared of us than whoever it is that he won’t name. Does he have any kids?”

  “You want to threaten his children?” Jo asks, jaw dropping open. “We’re police. We don’t do that shit.”

  “I’m not a cop,” I point out, stretching my neck from side to side. “No rules apply to me here, Jo.”

  We share a look.

  I can see her weighing her options. We have a loophole here and we’d be stupid not to use it. Police ethics and rules don’t concern me, and I’m here on behalf of Faye and therefore the feds’ approval. I give Faye a quick call, and she’s with me on this one. No one can really say shit. Fingers will be pointed if it comes out, but I’ll just fuckin’ deny it. It will be my word against his. Why should he even have any rights after what he’s done? Those women didn’t have any. They were treated like shit, like possessions. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to put some fear into this man, put him under pressure so we can save more women and hopefully find Elizabeth?

  Then she surprises me by saying, “Let me see what I can do.”

  I turn to watch the man while she leaves the room, planning my course of action. When she returns and nods at me, I crack my knuckles in preparation.

  Time to shine.

  • • •

  “So, you have a son,” I say, sitting down across from him. I don’t look into his eyes, I just clean the gun in my hands. He watches every action, probably wondering how to handle this.

  “You threatening my kid?” he asks, jaw going tight. I see him eyeing the tattoos on my arm. “What if I want to see my lawyer? I don’t think they’d appreciate hearing that I’m being threatened by the cops.”

  “I’m not a cop,” I say, flashing my teeth at him. “It’s just you and me in here.”

  “I’m not giving you any names,” he says, looking away. “I’m going to be doing time anyway. It won’t change anything.”

  “Will change a lot of things actually,” I say, looking up at him. “Have you heard of the Wind Dragons MC?”

  He nods, eyes going wide. “What about them?”

  I grin evilly. “I’m one of them. You don’t care about your wife and your son? I have no problem killing them, you know.” I’m lying. I’d never hurt a woman or child, ever. But the WDMC reputation is useful to me right now. “Maybe your wife knows something. Should I get the cops to bring her in for questioning too?”

  He looks me right in the eye, searching for whether I’m being serious or just bluffing. I stare back, daring him to test me. He swallows, his throat muscles working.

  “They’re innocent,” he says, licking his lips. “My wife and kid. They didn’t know anything that was going on. They don’t know—”

  “Yet they might have to pay for your mistakes,” I say, sliding my gun into the waist of my jeans. “There is nothing I won’t do to find out what kind of operation you’re running, and if you don’t help me, I’ll make sure your family pays the price. Don’t fuckin’ test me. I have no boundaries, and I have no problem killing. You have five minutes to give me a name. The name of the man at the top of this whole operation, or you’ll have no one left who cares about you. There will be no one to visit you in prison, because they will all be dead.”

  “He’ll kill me,” he says, looking on the verge of tears now.

  Fuck.

  “He won’t know it was you,” I say, even though I’m sure “he” will probably figure it out. That’s not really my problem. The schmuck shouldn’t have gotten involved in human trafficking. He’s obviously not a man with a conscience, or maybe he cares only about himself and his family, I don’t know. Either way, if I have to choose between him and innocent women probably being sold off—it’s not his life I’m going to save.

  He mutters two words.

  A name.

  “If you’re lying to me . . .”

  “I’m not,” he swears, looking down at his hands. “Please, just leave my family alone.”

  I leave the room, and walk right into Jo.

  “I’m on it,” she says, hanging up the phone she was on. “We’re looking into him.”

  “Good,” I say, nodding. “We need to take him down.”

  “A SWAT team is assembling as we speak. You did well in there. How did he know you’d seriously do it though? It was just words, you didn’t even use force.”

  “I guess one beast recognizes another,” I say, shrugging it off, but the truth is, he saw my tattoos. If he knows what they mean, he knows I’m not one to fuck around with. I wonder if he recognized my newest tattoo, the Wind Dragon I have on my forearm, to prove that I’m telling the truth. Either way, I just hope that the name he gave is the breakthrough we need.

  No more fuckin’ around.

  TWELVE

  Johanna

  WE spend the entire day looking for this man who is supposedly in charge, and come up empty. He’s not in the system and has no priors, but we have his name, address, pictures of him. Problem is he’s obviously gone into hiding. We lost the element of surprise, and who knows where he could be now. His face is all over the news, in hopes that someone sees him. After exhausting all resources, I have to wonder if we ever will find my cousin.

  It’s midnight by the time I fall onto my bed, feeling tired and extremely disappointed. I feel like crying. I haven’t cried since she went missing, because I’m the police officer. I’m the strong one. I kept telling my family that I will bring her home, and I made myself believe that I could . . . but what if I can’t? How can I live with myself? I’m mentally beating the shit out of myself when there’s a knock at the door. I open it, not really paying attention, knowing that it’s Ranger. He takes a look at my face, then pulls me into his arms, kicking the door closed with his foot and rubbing my back with his large warm h
and.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he rumbles as I bury my face in his chest. I don’t cry in front of people, because I don’t like to be seen as weak, but right now I can’t hold it back. I burst into tears. He lifts me into his arms, carrying me like a bride, and lays me down onto the bed, with him still pressed against me. “Don’t cry.”

  His comment makes me cry harder, big, heart-wrenching sobs. “Where the fuck is she?”

  “Did you think it was going to be easy to find her?” he asks, his voice gentle. “It’s not. We’re going to have to push, and we’re going to have to fight, but we’ll get there, all right? I know your heart’s in it, Jo, but you need to stay strong. Pretend this is just another case. You need to shove your emotions aside right now so you can think with a clear head.”

  “I know, I know,” I say, compelling myself to stop crying. Fuck. Why does he have to see me like this? The first man I’ve found myself attracted to in forever. Who would want to sleep with this mess? I just cock-blocked myself. And I admitted to myself that I do want to sleep with him. Fucking great. It hits me just how close he is to me, how I can feel the warmth coming from his chest and how the delicious woodsy cologne he wears is hitting my nostrils. The way he’s holding me, his hand still running up and down my back, comforting me. When’s the last time someone comforted me like this? Him on the plane? Before that . . . I can’t even remember.

  Wow.

  I need a life.

  I try to stealthily blot my tears on his T-shirt. Luckily my nose isn’t running, or snot would be all over his T-shirt too, and that would be embarrassing. I take a deep breath, and then slowly lift up my head. His hazel eyes are already on me. They’re soft. They aren’t filled with pity, because if they were I’d tell him to get out right now. He isn’t judging me at all. They are filled with understanding. Compassion. I don’t know where the hell Ranger came from, but I’m glad he’s here with me right now.

  I tell him as much. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “So am I,” he says, flashing me a small smile. “It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes, Jo. There’s beauty in it.”

  “You’re never vulnerable,” I point out.

  He gives me a weird look. “I don’t think that that’s true.”

  We just watch each other, eyes locked.

  I don’t know how this happened, how I ended up being literally so close to him, but he’s here, and it feels . . . right.

  I must be losing my damn mind.

  “Hi,” I whisper, my voice croaky.

  “Hi,” he says back, pushing my hair gently off my face. “I think you needed that.”

  “I think I did too,” I say, already feeling better. “I’ve held it all in since she went missing. I’m the strong one in the family, so I had to hold everyone together, you know?”

  “You shouldn’t have to feel that way,” he says, lips tightening. “You’re strong every day in your job, and then you have to come home and hold everyone together? There’s only so much weight one person can take on their shoulders, Jo. You shouldn’t feel like you have to be strong just because you’re a police officer. You’re still human. Don’t carry that burden for them. Why did you want to become a cop anyway?”

  “My mom was one,” I say, shrugging. “It’s all I ever wanted to be, ever since I was a little girl. I saw her as a superhero growing up. What about you? What did you want to be?”

  He frowns, going silent for a few seconds before answering. “I don’t know. I didn’t have the best childhood. We didn’t have much money, I grew up in a trailer and was known for being a troublemaker. The only thing I wanted to do was to get out.”

  “And you did,” I say, imagining him as a kid living like that.

  “No one knew the real me, you know? They saw what they wanted, and I eventually ended up acting how they expected me to. They didn’t know how smart I was—how I aced all my exams without studying, or that I’m good with numbers. They just saw a boy from the trailer park.”

  My eyes widen. I know Ranger is smart, but just how smart are we talking?

  “You did what you had to do,” I say, wanting to reach out to him, but I refrain.

  “I did what was best for me,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “And you need to do the same. You can’t worry about everyone; you can’t save everyone.”

  We stare into each other’s eyes, and I wonder what he’s been through to say that. He’s got a whole MC at his back; I’m sure they’d help him if need be. Can he relate to this? He’s right though, there hasn’t been much give-and-take in my family relationships recently. I’ve been giving everything I can, and they’ve been taking. I even gave Elizabeth’s sister, Helen, some money because Elizabeth normally does. Is it guilt? I don’t know. I like to take care of the people around me, but no one is really there to take care of me. If I fall, I fall alone.

  Fuck, when did my life become so depressing? But, how can I even complain about it with what has happened to Elizabeth?

  It all comes back to the guilt. I’m a policewoman. My cousin is missing and everyone is relying on me to find her, but my harshest critic is myself. I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t find her.

  “I know,” I say, resting my head on his chest once more. “Why is everything so hard?”

  I’ve never whined about anything, but for once being vulnerable doesn’t feel so bad, because it can bring people closer.

  Ranger clears his throat and mumbles, “Because you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

  Wait, what?

  When I scoot closer to him and feel his hardness pressed against me, I understand his comment.

  “Oh,” I say softly. “Ohhhhh.”

  He’s hard.

  And he thinks I’m beautiful.

  Even after I just cried on him, and opened up to him.

  And did I mention that he’s hard?

  I bite my bottom lip, then lift my head up and look at him once more. “Ranger?”

  “Yes,” he says, licking his bottom lip. “What do you need from me?”

  “Why haven’t you kissed me again?” I ask, feeling bold.

  “I was waiting,” he murmurs, eyes darkening.

  “For what?” I whisper, feeling a little dazed.

  “For the right moment.”

  My gaze lingers on his mouth, the tension between us heightening. Unconsciously, I lean closer to him, and then he does the same. As our lips touch, it’s like a starting gun is fired, because suddenly, we’re all over each other.

  My hands are in his hair, which falls out of its binding, the soft locks running through my fingers. His hands wander to my ass, lifting me to straddle him as he lays flat on his back, our lips still fused. He kisses me so deeply, I can taste the hunger on his tongue, the need fueling his desire. He wants this badly, just as I do, and the fact that I can feel it fires the heat behind my passion. His hands squeeze as he ends the kiss, only to kiss down my neck, making me moan at the sensation.

  Suddenly, I’m rolled over onto my back, and his lips are slammed back down on mine. I can feel his hard cock pressing into my thigh, straining against the soft material of his gray sweatpants. His fingers skim my lower stomach, lifting the silk of my pajamas as he removes my top. I lift my hands for him as he bares my stomach and then my breasts, exposing pebbled nipples just begging for attention.

  “So pretty,” he murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his mouth to suck on one nipple, and then the other. My eyes close on their own accord, my hands threading through his hair, encouraging him. He starts to kiss down my tummy, just near my belly button, then farther down, until he hits the waistband of my silk pants. Pulling them down, he hums his approval when he sees I’m not wearing any panties, then continues kissing his way down my right thigh. I help him take off the pants with a flick of my ankle, my eyes fluttering open as he slowly spreads my thighs, then peppers kisses up the inside of my left thigh.

  “Ranger,” I whisper, wanting more than anything for the torture to be ove
r, for his mouth to be where I crave it most. He lifts his head, hazel eyes filled with lust and smugness, then brings his tongue to my pussy, licking my center.

  Fuck.

  THIRTEEN

  Ranger

  I DON’T know how we went from her crying to me going down on her, but I’m not complaining one bit. Her pussy is shaved bare, and so fuckin’ pretty, it would be rude for me not to have a taste. I don’t know the last time she had an orgasm, but I’m going to give her one to remember. I ignore my throbbing cock and focus on her pleasure, sliding my tongue over her clit. She raises her hips, and makes soft moaning sounds, so I increase the pressure with my tongue.

  “Ranger, I’m going to come,” she whispers, her thighs trembling. Fuck. She’s amazing. So responsive.

  Perfect.

  I continue to flick my tongue over her clit, the way I’m learning that she likes it, and insert a finger inside her. It sends her over the edge. She cries out as she comes, and I enjoy every second of it—the sound she makes and just watching her writhe in pleasure while I continue to taste her, dragging out her pleasure as long as I can. She pushes my head away gently, so I lift my head up and look at her, lying back, her eyes heavy, a sated, satisfied smile playing on her heart-shaped lips.

  This is a moment that I will never forget.

  I move up the bed, leaning over her and kissing her lips. She lifts my T-shirt, her fingers running up my back, then mutters, “Your turn.”

  My cock approves of this.

  I slide off the bed and pull my T-shirt over my head, throwing it on the floor. My sweatpants and boxers soon follow, and then I’m standing there naked before her. I let her take me in, knowing she likes what she sees by the wide-eyed stare she gives me. She bites her bottom lip as her gaze reaches my cock, which is proudly jutting out, just waiting for her attention.

  “Fuck me,” she mouths, and I can’t help but smile.

  “I plan to,” I reply, grinning as I sit on the bed, roll her over to her side, spooning her from behind. “Are you on the pill?”

 

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