Lost Without You (The Lost Series Book 2)

by Tracie Douglas

  “After everything that has happened between us, you think that could be possible?”

  “I just want this to be more than sex.” She throws her hands up and raises her voice passionately.” It’s mind-blowing sex, completely off the charts, but it isn’t everything to me. You’re everything to me.”

  “Queenie, haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying to you?”

  “I hear you. I’m yours, but what if you change your mind?”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I uncross my arms and stalk toward her. She backs up, but once she hits the countertop, she has nowhere else to go. Her eyes widen with shock at my quick movements, throwing her off kilter. Placing my hands on the counter, one on either side of her, I lean in close and keep my voice calm but serious.

  “Listen to me right now, Mississippi Rivers. I don’t say things for the shit of it. You of all people know I don’t. I get you’re scared. Hell, I am, too. But you’re not scared of being with me. You’re not scared of where we’ll be in six months, a year, five years, or fifty years from now, because you already know the answer. You’re scared because you feel something real, something you are sure of, and you can’t hide from it anymore. You know I’m not going to fuck it up this time, and that frightens you. You think I have the power to break your heart, you’re dead wrong. It’s you who has the power to break my heart. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

  She gasps at the severity of my words, which prove deep down I have a better understanding of her than she believes.

  “Yes, the sex between us is amazing. I’ve never experienced it like I do with you, and it’s great. No, it’s fucking fantastic. But if I have to give up fucking you for the chance of loving you, really loving you, I will. I don’t just want your body, Queenie. I want you. Your mind. Your heart. Your sass. Everything about you. Your body is just frosting on an already fantastic cake.”

  She looks up at me with tear-filled green eyes. And I know with everything in me, this woman loves me. But she’s too afraid to be the first to admit it. I, however, am not.

  “I fucking love you, Missy, so much my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.” I lift both hands to cup her face. A tear trickles down the side of her face, and I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb. Our lips are inches from one another and emotion crackles like electricity all around us. “I don’t want anyone but you, every day, every night, for the rest of my life. You are the queen of my heart.”

  We stand staring into each other’s eyes for a moment. She licks her lips in anticipation. I want to kiss her, but I’m not finished.

  “I see you got me now, you get it what I’m saying. So, I’m going to let you work the rest of it out on your own. We’ve tried it your way. We’ve tried it mine. Let’s try it our way. I want you to choose me, to choose us, but I’m not going to push anymore. In fact, I’m going to turn and walk out your door.” Her eyes grow wild with the thought, but I try to ignore it, just like I try to ignore the churning in my own gut. I don’t want to leave her. “This is not good-bye. This is me giving you a moment to catch your breath and realize how real we are. Because we are, Queenie. One hundred percent real.”

  I release her without kissing her, even though I want to, and step away. She opens her mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. It takes everything in me to turn and walk away. But I do, hoping with each step I take I’m doing the right thing.

  Missy

  I stand in my kitchen and watch him walk away. It hurts. I don’t want him to go.

  I open my mouth to stop him, to make him stay, but nothing comes out. I don’t know why.

  Maybe because he really loves me and I honestly didn’t think it was possible.

  He loves me.

  He said it.

  I hear the front door open and close, shaking me from my stupor.

  He loves me.

  I should have said it back. Why didn’t I say it back? I know how I feel. Hell, even his son knows how I feel. Why couldn’t I open my mouth and say the words back to him? I wanted to.

  I look up at the clock on my oven and groan loudly. I can’t be too mad, as much as I want to be. His spontaneous sexing was amazing and what I needed to get the day going.

  I push off the counter, cringing as the muscles in between my legs flex with each step, and head for the door.

  My mind fills with ways to make this right. To show him how much I love him right back.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dizzying Job

  King

  “King, tell me you’re not onboard with this shit,” Dizzy asks as I enter the room and close the door softly behind me. I glance over at John McNamara, who watches me with a guarded look.

  “I take it Mac has talked to you about the new developments.” Our meeting today is with the CIA regarding Dizzy’s new case in Las Vegas. I knew from the beginning Dizzy would have major problems with this case, just like I knew he is the only one who can do this job right.

  “Developments? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?” Dizzy stands from his spot at the table with his fists clenched tightly against his side. His body vibrates with tension. I can see how much he’s holding back, whereas McNamara sees him as being uncooperative. I’m not any happier with the new strategy Mac is proposing, but I’ve also read the reports supporting the new strategy. “There is no way this shit is gonna fly.”

  “We have no other options.” Mac’s cool, calm, and collected voice breaks Dizzy’s glare away, forcing it onto himself.

  “Bullshit, Mac—”

  “Do you think I want to do this?”

  “I don’t know, but it seems like it to me.”

  Mac stands from his spot and leans across the table. His dark eyes glitter. “Fuck you, Reynolds.”

  “No, fuck you—”

  “That’s enough,” I break in and lean against the wall behind me. It’s my job to diffuse the situation and control my guy, otherwise this mission will never make it off the ground. “Diz, clearly, this isn’t a decision they’ve made lightly. You’ve seen the file, everything they’ve done to shut these sick fucks down, to close this case. Nothing’s worked. Sick fucks are always one step ahead and too smart for their own good. No one wants to do this, least of all Mac. Putting innocent lives on the line is not what we do, but unless we do something drastic, these girls won’t be the last and more innocents will be lost.”

  “It isn’t right, King,” Dizzy argues with an exhausted sigh. The CIA has been trying to shut down the human and sex trafficking situation in Las Vegas for years, and now finally, after years of work, they’ve managed to get in with two of the most influential men of the business. They hired us to close the case, and I chose Dizzy because this case needs someone with heart. Not that the others don’t have heart, but Dizzy’s been running from something for way too long and I believe this case is going to change everything for him.

  “You’re right, but how many more lives will we lose if we don’t do this?”

  “Sacrifice a few for the future of others? Is that what we do now, King?”

  “What would you suggest, Reynolds?” Mac asks. He leans back and crosses his arms. I can see the guilt in his eyes, too. This plan is no easier for him than it is for us. You’d have to be a monster to sit well with it.

  “I can’t do it,” Dizzy says quietly before sitting down and shutting down.

  “King, I thought you said this kid was our guy?” Mac swivels his chair toward me, his patience dangerously thin.

  “He is,” I say without looking away from Dizzy. He stares up at me, allowing me to see the battle in his eyes. “He just needs to realize it first. Let me talk to him privately.”

  Mac pushes back from the table, scoops up his coffee, and heads for the door. “This plan is time sensitive, King. This guy needs to get his shit together, or we’ll find a team better suited to the task at hand,” he murmurs before closing the door behind him.

  I push off the wall and
take a seat in the chair Mac vacated. Dizzy crosses his arms, leans further into his chair, glaring at me. He’s trying his best to intimidate me.

  “Intimidation isn’t going to work with me, Diz. I know you too well.” I smirk at him tauntingly. He knows he has nothing when it comes to intimidating me. Besides, Dizzy would rather make someone laugh than hurt them.

  “I’m not doing this,” he tells me again.

  “Fine, I’ll call in someone else to do it.”

  “How can you be okay with this?”

  “I’m not okay with it, but it has to be done. This group has to be shut down.”

  “These women will be bought and sold to the highest bidder. They’ll be tortured. Enslaved. Raped. Maybe even murdered. So, you’re just going to assign someone else to the case?”

  “Yes, but I’d rather you to take this case.”

  “Why?”

  “Because as much as you hate the thought of putting these innocent lives on the line, I know deep down you will do what it takes so other innocents won’t have to go through this shit.”

  “King, man, we’ve seen shit like this in the war. It doesn’t matter who you take down, the girls will be sold to someone else by someone else.” He groans, ranking his hand through his hair and down the side of his face. While he’s right, he’s also wrong, because he doesn’t understand the significance of this particular group in the world they deal in.

  “Did you read the file?”

  He shakes his head.” I couldn’t get past the initial plan.”

  “This group they’re working to take down is international, Dizzy. They aren’t some local piss-ant group. You’re going to be rubbing elbows with the two top dogs. The scum that controls this operation. You take this job, you run this gig. You get the information we need to lock those two sick fucks up for the rest of their lives, but you’ll also get access to their clients. Can you imagine how many lives we can save with that information?”

  “I get it,” he sighs, shaking his head with worry. “But I don’t know if I’m the man for this case.”

  “You are the man for this case. Yes, I can easily call Zero or Bear in here to replace you, but you’ve got something they lack in cases like these. Heart. They won’t care enough about these girls like you will.”

  “That’s bullshit,” he scoffs, knowing full well I’m talking out of my ass. They would care just as much as he would. My men are good at what they do, with strong meters of right and wrong. But I know Dizzy would be more motivated to get in, get the shit we need, and get out.

  “I have faith in you, Damien.” His eyes shoot to mine. Mentioning his real name isn’t something I’ve done, not since meeting him many, many years ago. “You’ve got to trust this is going to work and you are the man to see it through. You’re going to put a stop to these assholes. It’s do or die, man. Too many lives depend on the success of this case.”

  “Fuck, King.” He exhales sharply and hangs his head. “Fine, but I want absolute control. If for any reason I feel like this shit isn’t going to happen the way we hope, I want an exit out. Not just for me but for the girls we’re using.”

  “This is exactly the reason why I know you’re the right man for this case.” I nod, breathing a sigh of relief. I hate having to talk someone into something like this, but my instincts are always right and I have learned to listen to them. Standing from the chair, I reach out to shake Dizzy’s hand. “I already know Mac and the team will agree with your condition. In fact, had you read the complete file, you would have seen it as a stipulation I added when the case was given to us.”

  “I appreciate it, King. Let’s hope everything goes according to plan.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A Mother’s Intervention

  Missy

  I spent the first half of my shift walking funny, each step reminding of the events that occurred this morning against my foyer wall. The looks I’ve garnered from the other nurses and doctors have left me feeling a bit unnerved.

  The second part of my shift was filled with thinking about ways to make my behavior and reaction up to Kingston. I barely remember all the charting and patient care I’ve given; thankfully, I’m like a well-oiled machine and can do my job with my eyes closed.

  I just finished check on room 2B when I round the corner to find Claudia, a member of our staff, arguing with someone at the desk.

  “I know you don’t want the pamphlet, but you have to take it,” she states with irritation in her voice.

  “I’m not taking it,” a familiar voice answers. I swallow hard and my heart skips a beat when my eyes meet those of the woman refusing to take the pamphlet. Tatum.

  How in the hell is this possible? She’s supposed to be behind bars still.

  I automatically move toward them, touching Claudia on the arm, interrupting their heated argument.

  “Claudia, I can take over from here,” I murmur softly to the small, olive-skinned woman. She looks at me, rolls her eyes, and hands me the pamphlet.

  “Fucking junkies,” Claudia swears under her breath and walks away. I look up at Tatum and feel nothing but hatred as her eyes pierce straight through me. Damn, if looks could kill.

  “I don’t know want any shit from you, Missy,” she starts, but I hold out the pamphlet to her, cutting her off.

  “You want the needles? You have to take the pamphlet. It’s hospital policy.”

  “Fuck hospital policy. Just give me the needles.”

  “Doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t matter what you do with it as soon as it leaves my hand, but we need to be able to say, yes, she took the literature directly. Throw it away for all I care, but you will take it if you want your needles.”

  “I bet you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing the junkie.” She smirks, trying a new tactic. If this were anyone else, I would call security for Claudia and have them escort her out of the building, with nothing in hand. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Layla and Oliver’s mother, and she is clearly tweaking and needing another fix. My heart breaks a little more for the children I packed school lunches for this morning.

  The woman standing in front of me is nothing like the southern beauty I met years ago. Gone is the woman bound and determined to move across the country and torture the hell of her ex-husband. Gone is the woman who took pride in her vanity and raised her kids, giving them everything and anything they wanted.

  This woman stands in front of me a shell of who she once was. Her blond hair needs a good washing and a brush through. Her makeup looks like it has been applied days ago and is in desperate need of removal. It’s dark and smudged, highlighting the dark circles surrounding her eyes. She was never a curvy woman, but I don’t remember being able to see her bones with such great detail. Her skin is covered in a layer of sweat, and she smells like death. The state of her clothing makes me think of the state of her apartment and the piles of dirty laundry I avoided while gathering the children’s belongings.

  “No, I don’t love this, not the least bit,” I tell her softly, my thoughts on the words Oliver spoke to me last night. “Are you going to take the pamphlet?”

  She grunts and reaches for it, taking it from me with anger. Tilting her head to the side, she tries to look past me at the drawer we keep the kits she desperately wants. I turn and unlock the drawer, taking out a kit. I frown at the task, deciding enough is enough. She needs to know what she’s doing to her children. I hope like hell I’m not crossing the line here and what I’m about to tell her will wake her the fuck up.

  “Before I give this to you, I’d like to ask you something.”

  “I knew there was a catch,” she growls and throws her hands up, tossing the pamphlet in the air.

  “No, this has nothing to do with hospital policy. It’s just a general curiosity.”

  “Just give me the fucking kit, Missy. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

  “Not even if it pertains to your children?”

  She freezes. Her eyes n
arrow on me. I can see the battle raging in them. She wants to know what I have to say but not at the cost of a lecture. Tread carefully, I tell myself.

  “Do you love them?”

  “Fuck you—”

  “It’s a legitimate question.”

  “Yes, I love my kids. What kind of mother do you think I am?”

  “You want an honest answer?”

  “Here we go, holier-than-thou Mississippi Rivers.” She turns away, forgetting about the kit in my hand, but I can’t let her leave without hearing all of it.

  “Your son asked me last night if I’m going to be his new mother.” My confession stops her in her tracks. I step out from behind the counter and move closer to her. “Do you want to know what I said to him?”

  “I’m sure I already know. Have you and King finally made it official or are you both still trying to deny the shit between you?” she asks with attitude, but I can hear the pain laced in her voice. She doesn’t want to care, but she does.

  “I told him he already had a mother. One who loves him very much. That’s why I’m asking if you love your children.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “They think you don’t want them anymore.”

  “Are you sure King isn’t the one filling their heads with this bullshit?” She turns and faces me, her face twisted with regret and shame.

  “He has no reason to poison your children against you. Not that he ever would. You’ve done that all on your own.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Oliver can think for himself, and he’s a very observant little boy. Both of your children are. Do you really believe they had no idea what was happening around them? They didn’t notice the changes happening with their mother? Their environment?”

  “They didn’t know. I didn’t bring it around them.”

  “Tatum, you left them in the car for hours, in front of your pimp’s house, while you were inside getting high.”

  “I didn’t do it around them,” she repeats, trying to convince herself of her own innocence, but the guilt she feels is stronger. She’s thought about this, but it’s easier to lie to yourself than be someone on the outside looking in, experiencing it with honest eyes.