Tattoo

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Tattoo Page 17

by Cambria Hebert


  “I see you’ve been watching over my daughter.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “Dad.” I butted in. “You seriously offered to pay Brody to be my bodyguard?”

  “He’s qualified for the position.”

  I sighed. “You know how I feel about you trying to manage my life.”

  “I will not lose you,” he replied. “You’re all I have left.”

  Pain pierced my heart and I gave up the argument. My mother’s death had been very difficult for my father. She was the love of his life, and when she finally succumbed to the cancer, a part of him died with her. It was maddening as hell the way he tried to protect me, but I couldn’t bring myself to be angry at him.

  “I told you I didn’t want your money,” Brody said, looking at my father. “This isn’t about money for me.”

  “What’s it about, then?” Dad challenged.

  “Her,” he said simply.

  Dad looked like he swallowed something sour, and I knew he would likely say something next about how Brody wasn’t good enough for his daughter. That would make me mad.

  “Snake was brought into custody a little while ago,” I said quickly, before the conversation could turn unpleasant.

  Dad glanced at me. “Well, that’s good news.” He looked over at Brody. “I guess your services aren’t needed anymore.”

  I sighed.

  Brody didn’t seem the least bit offended. “Well, since I wasn’t really working for you, you can’t fire me.”

  The sour look appeared again, and I hurried to slide a sandwich in front of him.

  The sound of a ringing cell phone cut into the conversation. Thank God. Brody stood up and dug his cell out of his pocket.

  “West,” he answered briskly.

  I gave my father a pointed look, hoping he would hear my silent plea to behave when Brody finished his call.

  “Got it. I’ll be there,” he said and then disconnected the call and deposited the phone back into his pants. After he slid the stool back under the counter and forked the last heaping bite of French toast on his plate into his mouth, he looked up. “I have some paperwork at the station.”

  Disappointment was a sharp taste in my mouth. I didn’t want him to go.

  Brody helped himself to a gulp of my coffee and then came around the side of the counter and kissed the side of my head. “I’ll check on you later.”

  “‘Kay.”

  “You have my number, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Get some rest, Tay.”

  I liked when he called me that.

  “Edward,” he said by way of good-bye to my father, who only nodded.

  When he was gone, Dad gave me a knowing look.

  “At least you know he’s above bribery,” I said.

  “I still don’t like him,” he replied and took a bite of his sandwich.

  I smiled. He liked him. He just didn’t want to admit it.

  21

  Brody

  I lied.

  It wasn’t hard.

  I didn’t even feel guilty for it.

  I’d do it again. Yeah, I told Taylor the risks of spending time with me. I gave her a choice. I wanted her to know what she was walking into if she accepted any kind of relationship with me.

  It was probably wrong.

  I probably shouldn’t have given her a choice at all. But I wasn’t going to be that guy. I wasn’t going to think I knew what was best for her. And, like I told her, I was selfish.

  I knew she wouldn’t walk away from me. The chemistry between us was too good. For the first time ever in my life, I was taking something I really wanted and I planned to keep it.

  And so I lied.

  I wasn’t about to put Taylor at any more risk than absolutely necessary. I did have paperwork to do at the station. But that wasn’t why I was going there.

  Newman called. The perp was asking for me. He wouldn’t talk to anyone else. And I wanted to talk to him.

  Talking to him = plowing my fist in his face.

  Would it get me in trouble?

  Yep.

  Did I give a rat’s ass?

  Nope.

  Snake deserved way worse than I was going to be able to deliver in a ten-by-ten interrogation room. Besides, I wanted answers. I intended to get them. I needed to know how far and how wide he blasted my identity. I needed to know what kind of cleanup I was facing.

  I wasn’t going to live with a cloud of retaliation over my head. I wasn’t going to look over my shoulder and wonder if Taylor was going to get caught in the crossfire.

  The only way to do that was to make sure all the roads that led to me were dead.

  The inside of the police station was fairly quiet, but given that it was almost dark out, I wasn’t really surprised. There were still many uniformed men behind their desks and a receptionist answering the phone. On my way in, I winked at her and she blushed.

  Some of the officers looked at me curiously as I made my way past, but no one bothered to stop me from going straight to Mac’s office.

  I didn’t know all the guys that worked here. I’d been undercover too long to really form relationships with a lot of them. The ones I did know all had their own partners and routines that I didn’t fit in with. I didn’t mind not fitting in. In fact, it was that quality that made me good at being undercover.

  It was always the misfits who seemed to turn to a life in the organization.

  After a swift courtesy knock on his door, I opened it and walked in. He was sitting behind his desk, frowning at the computer screen. He grunted when he looked up. “‘Bout damn time you got here. You sure took your sweet-ass time coming in to give your statement and fill out paperwork on today’s latest shootout.”

  “I thought I was still on vacation.”

  “Christ,” Mac swore. “Everywhere you go, West, there seems to be a shootout.”

  “What can I say?” I shrugged. “I’m charming.”

  He made a rude sound that I filed away for later (I was going to use that one), and he scowled at the computer. “What ever happened to just doing shit by hand?” he muttered.

  I grinned.

  “The perp’s asking for me?”

  “Yep. I told him he could talk with whoever I sent in the room.” He shook his head. “Damn criminals these days think they can come in here and call the shots.”

  “I need five minutes with him.”

  Mac gave me a level stare. “It’s not a good idea.”

  “Probably not.” I agreed.

  “No.”

  “I need to know how many people he told about my identity.”

  Mac swore. “You know as well as I do he ain’t gonna tell you the truth.”

  Most likely, no. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to beat the truth out of him. I kept that little tidbit of information to myself.

  “Maybe since he’s been lying low, he hasn’t had time to tell that many people. We already got the guys who tried to kill me today so we know they aren’t talking. We might be able to keep a lid on this.”

  “You know your undercover career is over, don’t you?” he said quietly.

  “Yes. Which is exactly why I want to see him. I have to make sure I can have a real life where I don’t have to look over my shoulder.”

  “We could transfer you,” he suggested. “Get you out of here.”

  Any other time I would have taken the transfer and moved on. Yeah, I had family not too far away, but my relationship with them had faded away a long time ago. There wasn’t really anything to keep me here.

  Until Taylor.

  “I’m not running,” I growled.

  “It’s the girl, isn’t it?”

  I stared at him in stony silence.

  “Taylor Shaw,” he said.

  I crossed my arms over my chest.

  He whistled between his teeth. “You got it bad, don’t ya? You know her daddy is a powerful, rich man in this town.”

  “Edward Shaw does not int
imidate me.”

  Mac grinned because I pretty much just confirmed what he was implying. When I offered no more information on my personal life, he wiped a hand down his face.

  “Five minutes.”

  I smiled and turned to leave.

  “West.”

  I stopped but didn’t turn back.

  “Keep your hands to yourself. Don’t force me to suspend you. You’re one of the best on the PD.”

  I left the room without response. I wasn’t going to make a promise I couldn’t keep. Out in the hall, Newman was passing by with a folder full of papers. “He’s down the hall.”

  “What’s he been saying?”

  “He won’t say shit. Says he’ll only talk to you,” Newman spat. “He keeps grinning like he has some big secret. We’ve sent three guys in there already and all of them have come out wanting to punch out someone’s lights.”

  Weariness smacked me in the gut. Shit, I was tired. All the games that went into this kind of life were starting to wear on me. The damn media actually did me a favor when they outed me. I was tired of being undercover. I was glad this was the end of that chapter in my life. Moving on sounded like a pretty good idea.

  I paused outside the interrogation room and took a breath, reminding myself to keep my cool. The reminder was likely useless. If he pushed me too far, I wouldn’t be keeping my hands to myself.

  The door flung wide when I walked in, smacking against the wall with a loud crack, and then swung shut. Snake was sitting at the table with his back turned to me and he jumped from the sudden burst of sound and movement.

  “I heard you’ve been asking for me,” I said, stepping farther into the room to walk around the table.

  Snake didn’t say anything. His dark head just lounged lazily in the chair like being under arrest was nothing to worry about. He was still dressed in the same T-shirt and jeans from the day I met him at the bank.

  “Let me tell you how this is going to work,” I said, slapping my hand down on the table and looking ahead at the dirty wall. “I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer. If you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell in this place. If you do, maybe I’ll see about sending you to the cushy prison upstate.”

  That was a lie. I was going to make sure he went to a hellhole and had a roommate named Tiny.

  “How about you do the listening?” he replied.

  There was something about his voice… something that wasn’t quite right.

  I whipped around, focusing on his face.

  He started to laugh.

  My blood ran cold and a strange buzzing sound filled my head. I stood there staring at him, suddenly understanding exactly why he seemed so unworried about being arrested.

  This was not Snake.

  He was the same height and build. He had the same coloring and he was wearing Snake’s clothes. But this wasn’t the guy who masterminded the robbery on Shaw’s Trust. This wasn’t the guy who tried to kill me. Who tried to kill Taylor.

  Rage lit within me like a candle to a flame. I burst forward and grabbed up the decoy by the collar of his shirt, yanking him out of the chair and lifting him off the ground.

  “What the hell is this?” I growled.

  He grinned, his breathing coming in uneven bursts. “Payback.”

  I slammed him down on the table, making it rattle under his weight. I enjoyed the way his head bounced off the tabletop and his eyes registered surprise.

  “You can’t touch me,” he said, his smile slipping just a little bit.

  I smiled. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Holding him down, I plowed my fist into the side of his jaw. The force of the hit sent him sliding off the table and onto the floor.

  He scrambled up, blood spilling down his chin. “He said you had to play by the rules, that as a cop you couldn’t do shit but release me,” the kid said, fear coming into his eyes as he backed away from me.

  “He lied.”

  Decoy Snake’s eyes grew wide and his back hit the wall. He was a lot younger looking than the actual Snake, and he was too green to know to hide his anxiety. I slapped my hands against the wall on either side of his head.

  “Lying to a police officer, giving false information, conspiring with a known criminal,” I listed. “All legit offenses. You could do some jail time for this.”

  His eyes bulged.

  “Don’t worry. You’re young and you got that innocent look going on. I’m sure the Tinys and the Butches of the prison will take a liking to you and protect you.” I leaned a little bit closer to whisper, “In exchange for favors, of course.”

  “I didn’t do nothing!” he burst out, trying to push me away.

  I stepped back and he tried to rush past me toward the door. I grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt and hauled him back, slamming him against the wall. My hand closed over his throat, applying just enough pressure so he knew I wasn’t fucking around.

  “How many people did Snake tell my real identity?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice strained.

  I squeezed harder. “How. Many?”

  He gagged and clawed at my hand. I didn’t release him and I didn’t loosen my grip. I just stared at him, waiting.

  “Not many!” he wheezed.

  I lightened my grip and he gulped in great heaves of oxygen. “How many is not many?”

  “I don’t know, man,” he said, leaning against the wall. Sweat had broken out across his forehead. “There weren’t many of us in the room. Just me and four other guys.”

  There were three guys at the lake today. “He put out a hit on me?”

  He nodded. “Three guys never came back.”

  “That’s because I killed one and threw the other two in jail,” I growled.

  “He said you were a spineless cop!” he burst out. “He said once we got rid of you, he’d make me second-in-command for doing this!”

  Now we were getting somewhere. So it seemed Snake only had a small crew on his payroll. Most of which were now in jail. The rest of his would-be crewmembers were likely still scrambling from all the previous busts. Maybe word hadn’t gotten out as much as I thought. Maybe there was a chance to keep my identity mostly contained.

  I tossed the kid on the floor and he lay there gasping for air, his cheeks bright red. “Where is he?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you,” he cried. “Please. If I tell you, he’ll kill me.”

  “If you don’t tell me, I’ll kill you.”

  He seemed to recover some of his earlier bravado. “You won’t. You wouldn’t dare kill me in the middle of a police station.”

  I pulled the gun I was carrying out of the waistband of my jeans. It wasn’t my waterlogged .45, but a pistol.

  I pressed the barrel up against his forehead, hard enough to leave a mark. “Are you sure about that?”

  He whimpered. “It doesn’t matter where he’s staying because he’s not there.”

  Warning skittered across the back of my neck. I wasn’t asking the right questions right now. I should be asking why he sent a lookalike to be arrested in his place. A lookalike who was instructed to ask for me and only me.

  What exactly would he gain from that?

  “What is he planning?” I yelled, lifting him off the ground while still pressing the gun to his head.

  “I don’t know!”

  I threw him up against the wall. I heard something inside him crack and he slid to the floor, calling out in pain. I pounced on him.

  “Tell me!” I roared, cocking the gun.

  The door to the room banged open and three officers rushed in.

  “I told you to keep your hands off him!” Mac yelled from the doorway.

  I was beyond listening. My finger was getting twitchy on the trigger. The kid must have seen the look in my eyes because he said, “He’s going after your weakness. He’s going after her.”

  Taylor.

  I jumped to my feet, my insides wild with adrenaline.

  “T
hat’s not Snake,” I spat, pushing my way toward the door. “It’s a decoy.”

  I shoved my way out into the hall and took off running.

  “West!” Mac called from behind.

  “He’s going after Taylor!” I yelled and kept on running.

  I shouldn’t have let my guard down so fast. I should have followed up when they first brought Snake in here. I’d been set up.

  And now Taylor was going to pay the price.

  22

  Taylor

  Dad was only home about thirty minutes when his phone started ringing with something down at the bank demanding attention immediately.

  I heard him on the line, trying to work it out so someone else could take care of the matter, as he didn’t want to leave me here alone (like I was ten or something). I’d had about enough of his hovering in the past few days to last me a lifetime, and I promptly walked into the room and glared at him until he lowered the phone.

  “Do you need something, Taylor?”

  “No, Dad, I’m fine. If you’re needed at work, just go.”

  Doubt crept into his eyes, and I sighed. “Snake is in custody. There’s no reason why you can’t go into work. I’m going to lie down anyway. I’m tired.” It wasn’t a lie. The pain meds were making my limbs feel heavy, and after everything that happened this morning and then later on (in bed), I really did just want to rest.

  “I’ll be there shortly,” he said into the phone and then cut the line.

  I smiled at him.

  “Are you sure about this, honey?” he said. “I don’t mind staying home. I’ve been at work all day.”

  I felt a little guilty because I didn’t want him to think I was trying to get rid of him. “If you want to use me as an excuse to stay in, I’ll totally support that,” I told him mischievously. “You must be tired.”

  “Well, this robbery definitely has me putting in a lot of hours lately,” he said. “I will be glad when the mess is behind us and I can get back to my regular schedule.”

  “Maybe I could come in and help?” I offered. It was, after all, the business that I would be running someday.

  “Absolutely not,” he said, his tone final. “You’ve been through enough. You need to rest that arm. The bank will be there when you’re feeling better.”

 

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