Lewis Security

by Glenna Sinclair

  “What do you mean?”

  “You couldn’t taken advantage, right? Or you couldn’t slammed her down and made sure she knew she was disgusting and you would never, ever be caught dead in bed with a woman her age. But you didn’t do either of those things.” I held up a hand when he opened his mouth to argue with me. “I know you didn’t, because you’re not that sort of person. You probably let her down easy and were very respectful, right?”

  “She was also a client,” he reminded me. “And she was paying us a lot of money.”

  “But she was the one who acted unprofessionally, wasn’t she?”

  “She could just as easily have turned around and said I tried to seduce her, just to save face.”

  “Which she could’ve done just as easily if you had been harsh when you turned her down. But she didn’t, because you were very nice about it.” I grinned. “Admit it. You’re a nice guy.”

  He shrugged. “Huh. I guess I am.”

  “You act like that’s not a good thing.”

  “I never said it wasn’t. I just never thought of myself that way, either.”

  I was sitting sideways on the couch, and I leaned against the back of it with my head on my bent arm. “How do you think of yourself, then? It’s pretty obvious to me that you’re a nice person.”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  “You’re still acting like it’s a bad thing. Why?”

  He shrugged, and I could tell he was giving it real thought. “I guess because when I was growing up, nice guys were not the guys you wanted to be. Know what I mean? I had to learn how to be hard, otherwise the world was gonna fuck me up the ass.” He grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “But that’s it, now that I think about it. I had to protect myself. Nice guys got taken advantage of. They got held up or had their apartments broken into or their cars stolen. They were the ones the guys I knew, the ones I grew up around, picked off one at a time like targets. Why would I wanna be like that?”

  “You’re better than them,” I reminded him. “You’re a good person. And you’re still a strong man. It takes strength to be good.” I blushed and looked down at my lap. “I sound like an inspirational meme.”

  He snorted. “A little bit. I hate those memes, too.”

  “So do I. They’re so corny.” I glanced up at him and we both chuckled.

  “Let’s watch a movie,” he suggested. Yes, that was a good idea. Anything was better than sitting there, looking at each other, wanting to say a lot of things but not having the words to say them.

  Hours later, once not one but two action movies had ended, I excused myself. I wasn’t even tired—a four-hour nap would do that to a person—but I had to make the action movies stop. I was sure my brains would start seeping out of my ears if I watched another one.

  I was just about to get into bed with a book when he knocked at the door. When I opened it, he stepped into the room. “What’s up?” I asked, and my heart started hammering against my ribs when I saw what was in his eyes.

  “I wanted to thank you before the night was over. You were sweet, saying those things.” His voice was deep, low, and intimate. Like the wall that had been between us was gone, like magic, and all that was left was the two of us. My toes almost curled inside my slippers.

  “It’s nothing,” I whispered. He was so much taller than me, so much bigger. His eyes were like ice on fire, and they burned into my soul as he looked into my eyes.

  “It was something,” he insisted.

  “You came in and woke me up when I was having a nightmare,” I tried to joke, even as my voice cracked and faltered. “So, I figured I owed you one.”

  A smile passed over his face, and suddenly he was leaning down and I was stretching up on my toes and there was so much of him, so much to see and feel and smell and my hands twitched with the need to touch him while my lips burned to taste his. He was everything in the world and all he had to do was kiss me…

  When he did, my heart almost burst. It felt right, so right, and I suddenly realized how thirsty I was for his kiss. His lips moved over mine, and I sighed as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Yes. It was so right. I let my head fall back as he towered over me, taking me in his arms, pressing me to his body. My head spun until I was sure I would pass out, but still I pressed my mouth to his and wanted more, more. Every nerve in my body screamed for more. His arms tightened, his hands hot. I wiggled a little, encouraging him to move them over me. I needed him to explore every inch of me.

  Which was why, when he pulled away, a disappointed whimper bubbled up in my throat. He let out a heavy sigh, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but I was dying to.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I whispered with my eyes closed. I was sure that if I opened my eyes, the embarrassment at how strongly I’d reacted would kill me.

  “I wanted to be sure we weren’t seen.”

  “Oh, shit.” That was enough to make my eyes fly open. “Do you know something? I forgot they were even watching.”

  “I can never forget. But I thought if I came in here, we could have a little privacy. So, you know, if anybody asks you were having a nightmare.”

  I snickered. “Okay.”

  He stepped away with another deep breath. I willed my eyes not to wander down the length of his torso until they landed on his crotch. I didn’t want to be vulgar. But I did wonder if our kiss had the same effect on him as it had on me.

  “Good night.” He smiled a little as he closed the door between us, and I collapsed onto my bed with my hands clasped over my chest. My knees were weak, and there was a dull, throbbing sensation between my thighs. If that was how good a single kiss could be, what would happen if we took things further?

  Chapter Nine – Brett

  It was almost seven by the time TJ showed up at the apartment. He was pretty new to the agency, one of our junior agents, so he didn’t need to be at the Monday morning meeting. I, on the other hand, did. We kept junior agents like him around to cover for us at times like that. I knew Spencer and anybody else on an active case was probably greeting their replacement the same way I was.

  “She knows you’ll be here when she gets up. I’ll come back after I catch up with Pax. And if anything happens…”

  “I’ll call you.” He gave me a little salute, then grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I heard this is one of the easiest jobs in a long time.”

  “Don’t let that make you lazy,” I warned him. “It’s an easy trap to fall into. You think things are going along okay and you get sloppy.”

  “I’ll remember that.” He wasn’t playing around anymore, and that spoke well for him. He knew when it was okay to joke around and when it wasn’t.

  I was whistling to myself as I jogged down the stairs to the ground floor. Hank, one of our floaters, gave me a quick wave from the truck parked across the street. I nodded in his direction, then got behind the wheel and left Queens for Brooklyn. It would be good to touch base with the rest of the crew—I was starting to understand what she was talking about when she said she needed to get out and get some air. Even though we had been out over the weekend, I still needed to see more than the inside of that tiny little apartment. I’d also need an appointment with the chiropractor if I had to spend another week on that couch.

  It was a hot morning which told me the day was only going to get hotter. Pedestrians fanned themselves at stop lights and there were fewer bicyclists to contend with on the road. That was all right by me—I had nothing against people riding bikes, as long as they obeyed the laws. It had only been a few months since I witnessed a bicyclist trying to run a red light. They probably only had a second to regret that decision before a Mack truck slammed into them. The thing about witnessing death was, you never got used to it. At least I never had.

  The office was plenty busy already when I got in, and I made it a point to say hello to Lydia before going to the kitchen for a bagel and coffee. “Missed you aroun
d here this week,” she pouted.

  “What’s that saying about absence making the heart grow fonder?” She tittered behind me and I started whistling again, under my breath, as I fixed myself a cup, then spread a thick layer of cream cheese on an everything bagel. Damn, I was in a good mood. How come?

  I knew how come, and I had to play it cool so nobody asked me to explain why I was walking around the place like a man on top of the world. They didn’t need to know about the kiss. And it was just a single fucking kiss, for God’s sake. Why couldn’t I stop smiling? Why did it seem like everything was just a little better that morning?

  I took a seat at the conference table. Spencer was already waiting. “How’s it going?” he asked, looking up from the paperwork he was finishing. Then, a sly smile spread across his face.

  “What’s that smile for?” I asked as I sat down.

  “You know what it’s for,” he muttered, still with that damned smile on his face. “I looked the same way.”

  “When?”

  “You know when. After.”

  “After?” Spencer sighed and, once he looked around to make sure nobody was about to walk in, curled one hand into a fist and poked one finger from his other hand inside.

  “Didn’t happen,” I said with a shake of my head. “Sorry if that’s disappointing.”

  “But you like her, right? Did you kiss her?”

  I didn’t get the chance to answer before the room filled up. I only shrugged. What can you do? I silently asked. He nodded with that same sly smile. He knew what I was up against.

  The meeting started, and I was glad to see Pax in a better mood than he was a week earlier. There was nothing worse than feeling like I had to walk on eggshells. Maybe that was a holdover from the days of tiptoeing through my apartment as a kid, terrified of waking up my mom and whoever was passed out in her bed or in the living room. Talk about walking on eggshells. I could expect a beating if I woke her too early, which in her mind was any time before three in the afternoon.

  “Any reports from Queens?” Pax asked me. I ignored the way Spencer cleared his throat.

  “We went to see Ricardo yesterday, and he had the client flip through pictures of known De Marco associates. She still can’t identify the shooter.”

  “From what I understand, the victim’s funeral was held yesterday,” Pax said. “Only his immediate family showed up.”

  I winced. “So he was on the outs with his professional family.”

  “I think a bullet to the head confirms that,” he said with a grim smile. “If it hadn’t been for Molly alerting them to her presence, I think it’s safe to assume they would’ve disposed of the body and gone about their business. They probably fled, thinking she was alerting the cops, and there was no time.”

  “At least the family got a little closure,” Christa pointed out. “Can you imagine what it would be like to never know what happened to somebody you love? One minute they’re there, the next they’re gone? And nobody can tell you what happened?”

  “The worst part is, those sleazebags would be the first ones to act concerned and send a casserole,” Dylan snarled. “It’s disgusting.”

  “Well, now they pretty much know it was, um, professional,” I said. “So I doubt there were any care packages or gift baskets sent to the house.” And that was sad. Just because he was involved in dark stuff didn’t mean the family had to suffer. But that was the way it went sometimes.

  Spencer updated us on his case—nothing new, and he rolled his eyes as he reported it. I knew how he felt. I was waiting for something, anything, to happen. My every muscle was tensed, ready to strike. But there was nothing to strike at. And to think, I thought working on a case with mafia ties would be interesting.

  But it was interesting in its own way, wasn’t it? I couldn’t forget the taste of her lips, their firmness and sweetness under mine. The way she gave herself over to me so easily, too, like she was only waiting for me to make the first move. I wondered what she was like in bed—something told me she would explode like a firecracker under the right circumstances. I imagined her riding me, tits bouncing, hair hanging down all around us like a curtain. Just her and me, joined, my cock skewering her until we both screamed…”

  “Earth to Brett.” Dylan waved a hand in front of my face, and I realized the meeting was over. Everybody was leaving. Spencer threw me one last look and a smirk before he disappeared.

  “Sorry. My mind was wandering.”

  “Heard you went to a pretty fancy wedding over the weekend,” he grinned.

  “Oh, yeah. Pretty nice. One of the perks of the job. All the lobster I could eat.”

  He laughed. “You get all the luck, I swear to God. I end up with an old man and his poodle, you end up at a wedding at the St. Regis.”

  “Some people are just born lucky.” I saw Pax walk by, waving me into his office. I promised to give Dylan a call to catch up before following the boss and closing the door behind me.

  His office was smaller than it could’ve been. He was the owner of an extremely lucrative security agency that could afford the highest level of technology and the most highly-trained specialists on the East coast, but his office looked like the sort of thing one would expect an ambulance chasing lawyer to work out of. Tiny desk stacked with papers and files, a couch he sometimes slept on, two uncomfortable chairs and a creaky old leather chair on the other side of the desk. He sat down in it and looked up, expectant.

  “What else is happening? I heard from Ricardo that things got pretty emotional yesterday.”

  “So you knew we met up with him,” I scowled.

  “Yeah, but the rest of the team didn’t know. So? What’s the story with her? Why’s she holding out?”

  “If you know that she fell apart, you know why she’s holding back. She’s scared. Nobody can promise that she’ll get her life back when this is all over—she’ll either die or move to, like, Arizona or something. Some people would consider that death after living in New York.”

  His grin was brief. “I understand that, but right now, it’s up to us to make sure she feels safe. Which means it’s up to you.”

  “I’m doing everything I can, trust me on that. But she’s too smart, you know? She’s thought this through. She’s stubborn as hell, too.”

  “So are you, so I know you won’t give up.” His eyes went wide, like he remembered something. “Oh! Did Ricardo text you this morning, too? About the memory card?”

  My heart leaped. “No. What about it?”

  “They got it out of the camera. Now they just have to extract the files—it’ll take a little time, since the card’s a little scratched up, but the team thinks it’s more than doable.”

  “That’s excellent news. She won’t have to worry about testifying once we have those photos in our hands.” She would be so happy to hear that. I knew I was. I imagined being able to tell her she could live a normal life after it was all over. It would be like handing her the world. And I wanted to be the one to do that for her.

  Chapter Ten – Molly

  When Brett got back from his meeting, it was easy to see that he was on Cloud Nine. I was happy to see him, and not just because I’d sat up half the night re-living our kiss. TJ was a nice guy and everything, but he was about as interesting as an ashtray.

  Once we were alone again, I asked, “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

  His smile was brilliant. “What if I told you there’s a way for you to get out of this without testifying or anything that would involve your name?”

  “I would say you need a cup of coffee and a long rest,” I chuckled.

  “No, I mean it.” He took my arm as I tried to get past him on my way to the kitchen. “What if?”

  I shrugged. “If that were true, it would be like a dream come true. Practically.”

  “What if I told you it’s possible, and it looks like that will happen?” He held my arms in his hands. “The tech team got the memory card from the camera. They only need to get th
e files out of it—that might take the rest of the day, according to Ricardo, since it’s a little scratched and dented. But it’s there.”

  I went cold inside. He thought that would make me happy. I should be happy just to make him happy, shouldn’t I? He had already done so much for me. So I smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt the rumble of his laughter under my ear, through his chest. I felt like doing just about anything but laughing just then.

  “Wow, this is better than I ever expected.” How could they do it? After the camera had been beaten to hell and back, how was it possible?

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I put a smile on my face and leaned away. “I guess I’m just thinking about how I’ll miss you when this is all over.”

  And that was true, and admitting it made it real. I would miss him when it was over and I had no excuse to be with him anymore. I’d miss the hell out of him. I had started off resenting him and had ended up depending on him way more than I had ever imagined I would. Just having my arms around his waist, as they were then, felt right. Like it was the way things were supposed to be all along.

  I stepped back, and the spell was broken. I was only imagining things, just like I had eventually convinced myself before falling asleep overnight. I was imagining feelings that weren’t there, all because the stress and anxiety of the situation heightened everything else I was feeling. That was why people fell in love in stress situations. Everything seemed more real, more vital. There was no time to wonder if there was a “right” or “wrong” at a time like that. All that mattered was then and there, the present moment. I couldn’t let myself fall into that trap.

  A shadow crossed over his face, but he recovered quickly enough. “I’ve gotta say, I did expect you to be a little happier.”

  “I am happy. I really am. This is all just so much, you know? I’ve been low, then high, and now this. My emotions are like a seesaw.”

  I sat on the couch, and he sat beside me. We didn’t touch again—I was painfully aware of that surveillance camera in the corner, up by the ceiling—but his nearness was still overwhelming. What would he think when he found out what was on the card?