Justice is Dead (Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 7)

by Morgan Kelley

  “What does Anfisa mean in Russian?” he whispered.

  She hadn’t heard that name in a very long time. It was strange to her ears. It also terrified her. A decade had passed since her old life, and she’d been free of it.

  Until now.

  Somehow, she found the strength to answer him. “It means delicate flower.”

  He reached up and plucked a rose from the arbor above them. Gently, he removed the thorns and tucked it behind her ear. “It suits you.”

  Then, he kissed her.

  If they were going to be gone tomorrow, he needed this tonight. It would be what would help his heart get over her. Curtis needed that one kiss to remember her. When the sun came up, he wouldn’t chase her. He’d done that before, and it didn’t work. If she was meant to be, Kat would find her way back to him.

  It was his hope, and he would hold onto it for the rest of his life.

  Softly, his lips moved over hers. Slowly, she began kissing him back. As she clung to him, his arms wrapped around her smaller body in protection, they stayed pressed together.

  Curtis didn't want to let her go.

  Not then.

  Not now.

  In the last year, he’d learned a very valuable lesson. He couldn’t impose his will on her. He had to let Katerina make her own choice. He’d made that mistake with Brynn, and it had been a disaster.

  There was potential to have what Greyson and Emma had, and he knew it. Now, he’d have to be patient.

  If Kat left, hopefully, their paths would cross again. It was his only shot at happiness, and he knew it.

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, she broke the kiss and stared into his eyes. “Please help me escape.”

  He wasn’t sure if she meant in that moment or…

  “Quick. Boost me up. It’s my brother. He can’t find me here.”

  He did as she asked, lifting her by the waist. The arbor shook and then stopped moving as she slipped into the flowers above.

  Curtis sat just as Dimitri rounded the corner. “Have you seen Katerina?” he asked.

  “No. I was just enjoying the night. Are you going somewhere?” he asked.

  The man stared at him. “If you see her, tell her to get back to the pool house.”

  Curtis shrugged.

  When the man moved away, he glanced up. He whispered, “The coast is clear.”

  Only, she didn't reply.

  It was clear.

  She was gone.

  “Oh, Kat. Don’t run. I’ll keep you safe from what chases you. I won’t ever hurt you,” he promised before heading out of the arbor.

  When he was gone, she dropped down, tears streaming down her cheek. In that moment, her heart broke. He was the one ray of hope in her life, and now she had no choice but to let him go.

  What he said was true.

  He wouldn’t hurt her, but she couldn’t say the same. She was the one who would do the damage, and she knew it.

  She followed at a distance to watch him one more time. Kat wanted to commit everything about him to memory.

  As she stood in the shadows, Dimitri found her. “Come.”

  She didn't say no.

  How could she?

  She owed him her life.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  As they lay in bed, naked and cuddling, Emma and Greyson heard the gate opening. Then there was the telltale chime of one vehicle leaving the property.

  “They left,” she said, holding onto her husband. “I was pretty sure they’d stay.”

  He was angry.

  He was sure they would too.

  Now, Emma was in danger and without a bodyguard. Greyson was going to have to stick close for the remainder of this battle against Dominic Marianna.

  “It’ll be okay, honey,” he said, keeping his temper in check. After all, that’s what caused them to leave. Then again, it could have been the invasive background check.

  Either way, they were gone.

  “We’ll be okay,” Greyson promised. “No one is going to hurt you, Emma. I’ll die before that happens.”

  She moved closer, allowing his arms to cage her to his body. “We should sleep.”

  He agreed, but he likely wouldn’t. Terrace Glen was unprotected, and that was an issue. He’d misjudged Dimitri Gideon, and that was on him.

  It wouldn’t happen again.

  If he ever saw the man, he’d put a bullet in him—not for endangering them.

  No.

  For breaking his wife’s heart.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  When Curtis got to his room after making a sandwich in the kitchen, he found he wasn’t hungry so much as needing to keep busy.

  As he closed his door and turned on the lights, he knew she’d been there. He could smell her.

  “Katerina?” he called, keeping his voice low.

  He glanced out the window at the trellis that led down toward the rose garden.

  She wasn’t there either.

  When he turned, he saw the splash of red on his white comforter. Crossing to it, he found the rose he’d picked and tucked into her hair.

  Beneath it was a piece of paper.

  Carefully, he lifted it. On it were three simple words.

  ‘Remember me. Katerina.’

  He knew in that moment that she was gone. Dimitri had made up his mind, and he’d lost her.

  As if horribly timed, Curtis heard the gates open at the front of the property, and the one telltale beep, signaling one car leaving.

  His heart fell.

  There was his proof.

  “I will, Kat. I swear that I will.”

  With that, he tossed his sandwich and climbed onto his bed to mourn what was gone before it even had a chance.

  The rose was all he had left.

  Somehow, he wasn’t shocked.

  That was exactly his luck.

  Curtis knew the truth. He’d wait for her and pray that one day, they’d return. He had to have hope.

  It was all he had left.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Thursday Morning

  Five A.M.

  She didn't want to get up, but her husband was persistent. When she finally opened her eyes, Emma was faced with the cool, calm silver ones she loved so much. He was watching her.

  “Why are we up at five?” she mumbled. “We just went to sleep a couple hours ago.”

  “We have the family meeting this morning at eight, and you have unfinished business.”

  Emma knew what he was talking about.

  Chris Ford.

  Crap!

  “We’ve burned our protection bridge, so we need everyone we can get at this point. Besides, you know you hate being mad at him.”

  She did.

  It was a horrible feeling, and all night, she’d been haunted by dreams of him walking out of her life. Each time, he had the same look on his face.

  Honestly, she felt horrible. She’d booted Chris out of their lives, and that was a big mistake—not because they needed protection, but because he was family.

  Her adopted brother.

  Truth be told, the guilt was overwhelming. She knew about his ex, and the woman had pretty much done the same thing to him. He had come home one day and been booted from her life.

  He left with the shirt on his back and his truck.

  It had been a hard time for him, and Emma had pretty much forced him to relive it last night.

  They’d turned their back on him.

  “I’ll go with you. We’ll take a limo. I want us as safe as possible. While you’re talking to him, I’ll get some meeting work done so I’m free. I’m going to have to call my boss and let him know what’s going on at some point. Ethan Blackhawk is not going to be happy.”

  He dreaded that, but he had an obligation to the job and the Blackhawks. After all, they stood by him when the chaos erupted. They deserved to know what was going on in Las Vegas.

  It was the least he could do.

  As they dressed, t
hey were silent. Emma was working on what to say to Chris, if he’d even talk to her.

  Greyson was busy plotting out the day for them, knowing they needed to help Steele heal, get the details of the case, and start working to bring Dominic to his knees. In a way, he was grateful for what happened.

  Emma had been right.

  He was going off the rails. There was no doubt that he needed her to put him back on track.

  When they walked downstairs, it was pretty much silent. In the kitchen, Dante stood, and he looked like hell. Somehow, they doubted that it was from a night of debauchery with his fiancé.

  “Rough one?” Croft asked.

  “Yeah, but Steele’s finally sleeping. Why is there a hole in the family room wall?” he asked.

  Greyson flexed his fist. “Uh, decorating?”

  His brother glanced over at Emma. “Do you need me to kick his ass for you?”

  She laughed and then gave him a noisy kiss on the lips. “No. I’m good, but he is going to get that fixed. We don’t live in a frat house, and we don’t punch anything in it.”

  There was her warning.

  Dante smiled.

  Then he saw the worry in his brother’s eyes. “What’s going on? Where’s Natasha and Kat? Normally, by now, one of them is popping in to scare the shit out of me.”

  Greyson told him about the previous evening.

  “Oh, holy shit!”

  “Yeah, you can say that again.”

  And he could. Honestly, Greyson was still reeling over the whole thing.

  He was caught off guard.

  “We thought they’d stay,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I was wrong.”

  Dante hugged Emma. “We’ll handle this. I can work from here and watch the house. I can even tag along with you wherever you go.”

  “Thanks, Dante,” Grey said. It was crystal clear who they could trust.

  Family.

  That had been the point.

  “I have to take a trip to Chris’s and apologize.”

  “You better. Our numbers are dwindling, and when it comes to that dick, Dominic, we need backup. I don’t think Curtis and I can really keep you safe.”

  Hell!

  Dante didn’t think the entire staff at the FBI could do the job.

  This was bad.

  “Can you have Steele up and ready by the time the meeting starts? We may need to borrow him today.”

  Dante lifted an eyebrow. “Borrow? You do that with shoes, not people. I can’t go out and get a new one if you lose him or he gets killed.”

  Croft laughed. “Yeah, sexy gay men are a dime a dozen in Vegas.”

  “Hey! That’s my husband-to-be you’re talking about there. Have a little respect.”

  Greyson grinned at his brother. “That was respect.”

  Emma hugged the man. “Don’t let him rile you up. We promise he’ll be safe. We’re going to visit Steele’s mother this morning.”

  The man looked sick at the mere mention of ‘mother’.

  “Count me out.”

  He laughed. “Oh, you’re coming.”

  “Grey! I wouldn’t make you do it if the roles were reversed.”

  “First, my in-laws, bless their departed souls, would be the love of my life. How could they not be? Look at the angel they made.”

  “Ass kisser,” Dante muttered, making Emma laugh.

  “Secondly, you have to face her before the wedding. You don’t want that to blow up there in front of everyone as you say ‘I do’. Get the ugly out of the way first. This family is going to be a spectacle enough when Mom starts her shit.”

  He thought about it.

  Greyson was right.

  “Fine. You win. I’ll face down Camille Bentley, but I’m wearing a cup.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “We don’t all go for a groin shot, Dante. Mothers go for the jugular.”

  Great.

  Just freaking great.

  How could this day get any worse?

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  He was miserable as sin.

  Chris Ford had his heart handed to him, and by a woman he wasn’t sleeping with.

  Go figure.

  Yes, he loved Emma.

  Yes, he wanted to be near her.

  Only, it was because she filled a void in his life too. He valued her as a sister. There was something special about the redhead that made his heart all warm and fuzzy when she was around, and now she was gone.

  It sucked.

  Chris was beyond miserable. In fact, he was going to be a bitch to deal with, and he knew it.

  When he came home last night, he pounded a few beers, took a shower, and went straight to bed.

  All night, he was thinking about the lousy Crofts. He wanted to hate them for throwing him out of their lives, but he couldn’t.

  He loved them too damn much.

  Truth be told, his own siblings had all gone their separate ways. They had lives of their own. Being the odd man out, without kids, without a wife, they didn't really have much to talk about.

  They didn’t get together, and they didn’t always think of the bachelor of the clan.

  Yes, they saw each other on holidays and such, but it always felt strained—until he met Greyson and Emma. At first, he hated the Fed, but he’d grown on him.

  Greyson Croft was a decent man, and a straight shooter. Chris appreciated that in a person. In this world, too many people lied their way through life. With the Crofts, you always knew where you stood.

  Then there was Emma. On the outside, she looked like a sweet little redhead. On the inside, she was a competent investigator who had guts and smarts.

  He admired that.

  You were either meant to be a cop, or you weren’t.

  There really wasn’t a middle ground.

  After getting to know her, he fell in love with her. Not in a sexual, jump her bones, kind of deal, but a comradery that he didn't feel with his own family.

  It was special.

  Now it was gone.

  That hurt more than anything, because he wouldn’t have discarded her like that.

  Never.

  When he loved, it was for life.

  Hell!

  Ford still loved the woman who cut out his heart, stomped on it, and tossed it in the trash.

  He was a big old sap, and he couldn’t help it.

  When people looked at him, they saw the outside, seldom the man beneath.

  It sucked.

  He was more than a large man who barked orders at detectives all day. He was gentle.

  He was kind.

  He got hurt easily, and no one saw that.

  What made this all worse was what was he going to do working with Emma and not being able to call her friend?

  Family?

  How did he show up every day and not love her?

  As he moped around his kitchen, he was angry. Maybe it was for the best. There were lines you shouldn’t cross, and he had been willing to do just that for them. It was against his nature to break the rules, but he’d been willing.

  Now he was on the outside looking in.

  Well, fuck them.

  They made their choice.

  He wasn’t going to be anyone’s punching bag, even if he partially deserved their anger.

  He was going to move on and forget them if it was the last thing he did. It would be the only way that he could lick his wounds.

  As he looked around the super luxurious condominium, he knew how hard it was going to be. Emma had hated that he lived in the hood, and she’d given him the place as a gift.

  At first, he hated it.

  When he found out it was mostly gay men, he was amused at her humor.

  Now, it hurt his heart being there.

  Not only had they given him the place, they’d furnished it with things a cop couldn’t afford.

  There was the leather couch from the fashion magazine that was way out of his price range.

  At first, he fought it.

  The
n…he felt it.

  The damn thing felt like butter under his fingers. When he sat on it, it was so lux, he felt like he was rich.

  Since he was anything but, that took a lot.

  Then there were the touches by Greyson. The liquor cabinet and the humidor full of Cubans—illegal as hell, but very apropos for the man.

  He’d told him that every bachelor needed a pad, and he knew what would work there. Chris never smoked them unless Greyson was there. They’d go out on the balcony, light up, and have a moment of brotherhood.

  Well, that was gone too.

  Chris stared across the room at the humidor. It was antique wood and beautifully carved with his last name. It had to have cost a fortune and the booty inside too, but he’d accepted the gift.

  Had it been a bribe?

  Now he was questioning the gifts and their motives.

  As he looked around, everything was tinged with doubt, and he hated that.

  Would this disappear now too?

  They’d tossed him from their lives, was his home, that he’d just begun to love, gone next?

  He hoped not.

  It was all he had left.

  At the knock on the door, he hoped it wasn’t the gay man next door. He’d been trying to get in his boxers, and that wasn’t happening.

  To each their own, but Chris…well, he liked the babes.

  Or at least he used to at one point.

  It had been so long since he’d gotten laid that he was sure he was going to be shooting dust blanks. The visual actually made him smile for the first time that day.

  Until he saw who was there.

  Then it was gone.

  When he opened the door, Emma stood there.

  “What do you want?” he snarled. “No, you know what? I don’t give a shit! Go away!”

  He slammed it in Emma’s face and stormed away. In the kitchen, he muttered to himself as he poured more coffee. He had to go to work soon, and the last thing he needed was her there.

  In his space.

  Making him feel small.