The Distance Between Us (Mac Security Series Book 3)

by Abigail Davies

  “The name’s Kitty, Joel. I’ve already told you.” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t like being called Kitty Kat.”

  My hands release and I smirk. I sure as hell know that she doesn’t like to be called Kitty Kat, but it’s my nickname for her and this fucker just used it.

  I stare at Charlie and Joel as they make their way away from the growing crowd. As soon as I came back from the grocery store the place was surrounded with cops. I knew then that it was a possibility that Charlie would turn up, but I was also sure that Boss would have briefed him. From the look on his face when he saw me, though, and the anger swirling in his eyes, I’d say he hadn’t got a clue why I was here.

  He could have blown my whole cover with just a few simple words, but he didn’t because he’s smarter than that.

  I had to mentally scold myself and tear my eyes away from him after shaking my head because I can get lost in his eyes for hours. The way he looks at me and the light swirls that shine in his eyes captivate me like nothing else ever has. I can remember the first time I saw those eyes, the first time we met.

  Moving to America was always a dream I never thought would come true, I used to sit and dream about it as a child, reading books and imagining where I would visit.

  So when I finally got up the courage to get away from my controlling father and to leave Canada, America was my first choice. I’d been stateside for nearly a year then.

  Back home I always had to wear the clothes that my father approved of and act a certain way and follow strict rules. One of which was to not have any involvement with anyone who could be deemed as “bad for his image.” Which was almost everyone that I knew.

  The life of a politician’s daughter was privileged, but when you’re secluded from everyone and everything, not being able to have any friends apart from my bodyguard, and only used for appearances to make my father look better, it was a nightmare.

  The only person who supported me, who gave me the courage to do what I wanted with my life was my bodyguard, Dean. He was a lifesaver back then, looking after me just like a big brother would.

  It all happened so quickly. One minute I had plans, big plans to follow my dreams and do what makes me happy, to get out of that house. Until the day that my father said those four little words, “you’re done, you’re fired,” and then he was no longer there.

  As soon as I was eighteen I pulled up my big girl panties and packed a bag and left for America. It wasn’t a fun time. In fact, it was hard, really fucking hard.

  After six months of wandering around aimlessly, I made a friend. A bad friend. One that got me into the kind of trouble that I was always kept away from.

  Living in a one bedroom apartment with three other people, all of which were hooked on drugs, wasn’t easy. It was a bad time in my life and although I dabbled in it, it never went past that.

  Several times I dialed Dean’s number into a burner phone that I’d bought, wanting him to come and rescue me just like he had when I was younger, just like he told me he would. His last words constantly ringing in my head.

  “You need me, you call, for anything, Kitty. I’ll always be there for you.”

  But each and every time I would dial his number, I’d flip the phone closed and tell myself that I can go it alone, that I’m more than capable to look after myself, no matter how bad the situation.

  That time in my life taught me valuable lessons, among which was how to protect myself.

  I met Evan at a self-defense class and from there things progressed. He told me that I was good at picking up the skills and soon I was taking classes in karate, kickboxing, and mixed martial arts. He told me after a couple of months that he could get me a job where he worked. I was skeptical at first, I mean, who offers a job to someone they barely even know?

  But the final straw was when I came back to that one bedroom apartment and watched all three of them take hits, one of them having to go between her toes because she couldn’t find a vein anywhere else. And then my boyfriend tried to hold me down to stick the needle in my arm. That was the day.

  The day that everything changed.

  I left that apartment with a small bag of clothes and walked to the town that Evan said he lived in. When I got into the town I needed some liquid courage, I couldn’t just walk up to his place and say, “Surprise!”

  Seeing a bar with lights on, I decided to have a shot and rest a little before I went to the address that Evan had given me.

  I push into the bar, scanning the place. It’s one of those little holes in the wall, the kind that only the locals drink in. I know I stand out with my light purple hair and the fact that I’m only five foot two, but I don’t let it bother me. I roll my shoulders back and walk to the bar, jumping up onto the stool and ignoring all the stares that are pointed my way.

  “Jameson,” I tell the old man behind the bar.

  He grunts in response and pours my drink, sliding it to me and walking away.

  I pick up the glass, swirling the liquid around in the tumbler before bringing it to my mouth, closing my eyes as it hits my tongue and burns a path down my throat.

  Laughter from the back of the bar gains my attention and I turn to look at the group of guys sitting there. One of them turns and looks straight at me at the same time, a frown marring his face. I keep my eyes on his, I’ve never been known to back down and I’m not about to start now. Even if my instincts are kicking in and screaming at me to turn away. I raise a brow at him, lifting my glass to my lips.

  His frown slowly turns into a smirk and my eyes zone in on his full lips, tracking the way his tongue comes out to wet them, which causes a slow burn to start in my pit of my stomach, but I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or him.

  I squirm on the stool, not being able to stop myself.

  Yep. Definitely him. Dammit! This isn’t what I came here for.

  I came here to start fresh where no one knows me or knows about my past.

  I turn away from him, letting him win the staring contest and looking down at the sticky wooden bar.

  I throw back the rest of my drink and tip the glass at the old man, signaling for a top up.

  “Haven’t seen you before.” The gravely voice makes me shiver and I can feel his breath as it fans across my neck.

  I ignore him, even as he sits on the stool next to me and says, “I’ll take a water, Jack.”

  I don’t look up, I concentrate all my attention on the fascinating condensation that’s on the outside of the glass.

  Swiping it away with my finger, I look up from underneath my lashes, my gaze focusing on his thighs that are wrapped in tight jeans.

  I can’t stop my mind from imagining what they would feel like underneath me.

  Fuck! Don’t go there, Kitty.

  “So…” His voice gains my attention and my eyes shoot up to his. “What brings you to town?”

  I shrug and don’t answer. I’m not here to make new friends, I’m here to get a new job and start over.

  The silence between us makes me itchy and I can feel his eyes on me, my skin burning from the attention, so finally, I turn to him.

  “For a job.”

  He acknowledges me with a tilt of his head, his eyes moving to the old man as he passes his drink to him and then they move back to me.

  I get lost in his eyes, the light swirls mixed in with the chocolate brown capturing me in his gaze. There’s something about his eyes, something that he keeps guarded, but I recognize it. Pain.

  “Charlie,” he says, holding his hand out.

  “Kitty,” I murmur, placing my small hand inside his. The roughness of his fingers scratch against my palm and I try to hold back my shiver as I imagine how those fingers would feel on other parts of my body.

  “Kitty Kat.” He smirks, picking up his drink and taking a long swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as the drink slides down his throat and I find myself fascinated with the ripples in his neck. Can a neck be sexy? Because if it c
an, then this one certainly is.

  “Huh?” I ask, realizing that he’s been talking this whole time. What the hell is going on? I never get like this around guys.

  “I said,” he chuckles. “What job is it?”

  “Oh!” I sniff and look away from him. “Just a friend who’s helping me out.”

  “We’re outta here,” a loud booming voice calls from behind me. “You coming?”

  “Nah,” Charlie answers.

  “Got it, see you tomorrow, Sarge.”

  I raise my brows as they all file out of the bar, leaving only me and my new friend Charlie.

  “Sarge?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” He points down to his jeans and I can’t help that my eyes move down past his badge and gun and straight to his crotch.

  Dear God, woman. Stop it!

  We sit and talk for a while, about nothing in particular and before I know it, I’ve had four drinks.

  I throw back the rest of my drink and another one is handed straight to me. I drink half of it before I look back up at him. The edges of my vision blur and I realize that I’ve probably drank too much too quickly.

  “Slow down.” He reaches out and takes the drink from my hand, placing it on the bar then gaining my attention by putting his thumb and finger on my chin.

  “Okay.” I swallow. I’ve never had this reaction to a man before and the goose bumps spreading over my skin from his touch are proof enough that I shouldn’t let him touch me.

  I don’t need to complicate things here. I just need to get this job and start my new life - no complications - but right now, Charlie is a complication.

  “You need a ride?”

  I splutter, my eyes opening wide.

  “Home.” He smirks.

  “Well… I… erm… I don’t quite know where home is right now.”

  He frowns and lets his hand drop from my chin, placing it around his own glass.

  Clearing my throat, I slip down off the stool, my head spinning. I’ve definitely had too much to drink.

  “Whoa, there,” he says, jumping down and grasping my arms. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  “Hmph.” I roll my eyes, pushing out of his grip. “I’m not that kind of lady.”

  Rolling my shoulders back, I pick up my bag and spin around, completely forgetting to pay for my drinks until Charlie says, “I got it.”

  I push out of the bar, squinting at the darkness and looking up at the stars that sparkle like glitter in the sky.

  “It’s a clear night out,” he rumbles from behind me.

  “Yeah,” I whisper, too afraid to talk any louder.

  “Listen, I didn’t mean to make you think I wanted to take you to my home.”

  I raise my brows as I turn to face him, his hand clutching the back of his neck. He’s nervous.

  “I just meant, I’ll take you to a motel, or wherever you need to go.”

  I open my mouth to say, “thanks but no thanks,” but then close it again. I mean, I don’t think it’ll look good if I turn up at Evan’s, drunk.

  I bite my lip and stare into Charlie’s eyes. Am I really considering taking a ride with a guy I’ve only known for a couple of hours? I suppose he is a cop, so it should be safe, right?

  “You’ll be safe, Scout’s honor.” He lifts three fingers up in the air.

  I giggle at him. Who the hell am I right now? I never giggle.

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly nod. “That’d be great.”

  “You didn’t think to fucking tell me that Kitty is undercover?” I growl at Ty.

  He leans back in his chair, smirking at me and not saying a word.

  Huffing at his silence, I bob my leg up and down as I sit opposite him. He should have told me, I could have blown her cover within seconds and this dipshit didn’t even think to tell me.

  “How many missed calls do you have from me?”

  I frown at him for a beat and then pull my cell out of my pocket. I see the numerous missed calls from both his personal phone and the company phone.

  “Yeah,” Ty says. “I tried to tell you.”

  I ignore him and instead say, “What the hell is she doing there anyway? That place is dangerous.”

  It is. The number of shoot outs and gang fights is ridiculous and the thought of Kitty being dragged into that has my head spinning.

  “She’s on a job,” is all Ty says, and I lean forward, opening my mouth about to ask him what job, but he interrupts me before I can say anything. “You know I can’t tell you, Charlie.”

  Fuck.

  I push up out of the chair and walk to the office door, done with this conversation if he’s not gonna give me any details. “Fine,” I grit out and pull the door open, ignoring him calling out for me.

  If he’s not going to tell me why she’s there, what job she’s on, then I’ll just have to find out for myself.

  I’m not stupid, I know Kitty can protect herself, I’ve witnessed it, I’ve been on the receiving end of it, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t worry. Fuck! Why am I even worrying? It’s not like we’re together, she’s just a friend.

  “Charlie?” Kay calls when I’m out of the warehouse and on my way to my car.

  “Hey.” I smile and pull my door open before getting into my car.

  I don’t want to hang around here any longer, I need to get my head straight because all I can think about right now is Kitty getting hurt and I’ll do anything that I can to prevent that from happening.

  I head straight back to the precinct, tamping down the urge to go the long way around, just so that I can drive past Wayward and hopefully catch a glimpse of Kitty.

  Parking in my designated bay at the precinct, I jump out and head through the doors, walking through the waiting area and to the door that separates the downstairs from upstairs.

  “Geena.” I wink as I go through the locked door.

  “Sergeant Mackenzie,” she says back, frowning down at her computer screen.

  “You good?” I ask, stopping just before the door shuts.

  Geena started working here a couple of years ago after being transferred from another precinct. There were rumors that some kind of drama had gone down with another officer, but I’ve never been one to listen to idle gossip.

  “What?” She whips her head up, her dark blue eyes wide. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine thanks.”

  Narrowing my eyes at her, I watch as she looks back at the computer screen. Her auburn hair is pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck and her face is full of makeup, one thing I always noticed about her was the fact that no one ever sees her without it. Not that it bothers me because I don’t see her outside of work, unless she’s at the compound with Evan, but that’s rare.

  She doesn’t look okay but it’s none of my business so I shut the door behind me, the two beeps ringing out, signaling that it’s locked.

  “Fill me in,” I say when I’ve walked up the stairs and into the pit. I lean on one of the desks and look at the whiteboard, waiting.

  The whole team gather around as Kurt steps up with a pile of photographs in his hands.

  “Joel.” He sticks it on the middle of the board. “We know he’s running the show at Wayward.” He sticks several more photographs below Joel. “We know these are who work for him. This one…” He points to the one on the left. “He’s just been charged with murder.”

  “Think it’ll stick?” Leroy asks.

  “We have enough evidence, just no eye witnesses.”

  “How did door to door go?” I ask, lifting up off the desk and taking Kurt’s place at the board.

  “Nothing,” Kurt tells me. “You know the deal at Wayward. They won’t tell the cops anything.”

  Don’t I fucking know it. They get away with murder. Literally. So many times we’ve built a solid case only for it to not even make it to trial because some hotshot lawyer comes in and gets them off on a technicality or even brings in an alibi when we know that they’re guilty.

  “Leroy, Derrick… you’re wit
h me,” I tell them. “Kurt, do some digging here, I want to know every single connection that Joel has.”

  “On it,” he replies.

  “Let’s check out Wayward again, see if some quiet police presence can get someone talking.”

  I walk back out of the pit, Leroy and Derrick following behind me.

  I won’t let things like this go without knowing what’s actually going on, nothing ever happens there without a reason. And now that Kitty is staying there, I’m even more determined to make the place safe.

  Pulling up to “Diva’s,” I take a good look around. The place is completely detached from any other properties that line the street. With its flashing sign containing a woman inside a martini glass and the walls painted black, there’s no denying that the place is a strip club.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull my bag off the passenger seat and jump down from the truck. I decided to go all out for the “interview.” I piled on my makeup, curled and backcombed my hair and even put my contacts in. I finished the look off with jean shorts that leave little to the imagination paired with my favorite dark brown boots and a crop top.

  I know for a fact that I’ll make an impression with this much skin on show. I know how to get noticed, but more importantly, I know how to go unnoticed.

  I walk past the man on the door and he doesn’t even acknowledge me, or at least, he tries not to, but I see the quick flick of his eyes to my legs and chest.

  Pushing through the door, I step inside a small waiting area with an opening in the right-hand wall where they check in people’s coats. Pulling open the black leather-covered doors, I step inside.

  Immediately I’m hit with the smell of sex; scrunching up my nose, I take a good look around to assess the place. There’s a U-shaped bar to the left, a stage at the back along with smaller stages and poles scattered around the large space. The chairs are a mixture of velvet and leather but in this dim lighting, I can’t tell what color they are.

  Taking a tentative step forward, I go to the bar and clear my throat, gaining the attention of the young guy stocking the shelves.

  “Oh, hey.”