Bound by Danger

by Danielle M. Haas

  “Did you find her?” Eric’s words came out in a rush after the first ring.

  “I did. And I have Pete. I need you to meet me and take this asshole down for questioning. We’re down an alley just a block north of my hotel. Call it in on your way here.”

  He hoped like hell Pete would be extradited quickly. They might have caught the ringleader, but the girls were still missing and they wouldn’t be safe until they were home. He needed Pete sweating in a cell in Chicago where he had all the time he needed to get the information of their whereabouts out of him.

  Screw the cell. Let me put him in the back of a truck and I’ll beat the information out of him.

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  He ended the call and glanced at Mickey. “What’s your friend’s number?”

  “I don’t want to burden them with this. I can wait for you to finish.”

  “Okay. Let’s walk to the front of the alley to wait for Eric and the police.”

  Mickey nodded and walked beside him. He needed both of his hands to maneuver Pete. He could place a little weight on his legs, but his feet dragged along the debris on the ground and his head rolled around his neck like a spinning top.

  Light from the streetlamps poured down around them. He dropped Pete to the ground and used his toe to push him back against the wall of a building. Pete lifted his face and Graham grimaced. Dried blood coated his chin and swollen lips. His skin was ashen and his limbs twitched.

  “What happened to his mouth?”

  Mickey curled her lips and shuddered. “I bit him.”

  He chuckled and pulled her in close. “My little spitfire.”

  She placed her head on his shoulder as an ambulance pulled up beside them. Mickey pulled away and glanced up at him through narrowed eyes. “I told you no hospital.”

  “Eric must have called them. Speaking of which…” Graham nodded toward the end of the street. “There’s Eric. Why don’t you sit down and let them look at you while I talk to him? If they clear you to leave, I’ll take you back to the hotel while Eric deals with this mess.”

  “What about Pete? Don’t you need to question him?”

  “He’s not going to say much tonight. I’ll get more out of him tomorrow after he spends a night in jail. Besides, Eric has more experience dealing with the Mexican authorities. It’s better to let him handle it.”

  Mickey covered a yawn and eyed the paramedic who had stepped around to the back of the ambulance and opened the back door. “Fine. But I’m not going to the hospital. I’ll sit here and wait for you.”

  He kissed her forehead and she scowled at him before walking toward the ambulance.

  Eric met him in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes flicking toward Pete huddled on the ground. “What happened to him?” He kicked Pete in the foot and got a small grunt in response.

  “Mickey tazed him.”

  “No shit.” Eric smiled and shook his head before his features turned serious. He glanced over his shoulder, but Mickey’s back was to them. “Is she okay?”

  He blew out a shaky breath. The adrenaline from earlier trickled out, leaving him drained. Images of what could have happened ran through his mind. “She’ll be fine, but thanks for getting the paramedics here. Did you call the local authorities?”

  “Yeah. I’m surprised they’re not here already.” He tilted his head toward the ground. “If you want to look after Mickey, I can deal with him.”

  “Are you sure?” As much as he wanted to be with Mickey, leaving his partner to wade through the shit of an international arrest didn’t sit right with him. Even if the last thing he wanted to do was shift through the bureaucratic bullshit.

  Eric slapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Go. I’ll send an officer to the hotel to talk to you and Mickey. She’ll be more comfortable talking away from the scene. You can come in tomorrow to talk to this piece of garbage. From the looks of it, he won’t be much use tonight anyway.”

  He hesitated, torn between taking care of Mickey and doing his job. He glanced down at Pete. Eric was right. This guy wasn’t going to talk much tonight. “Thanks, man. I’ll call Harper and fill him in.”

  He grabbed the keys to the handcuffs out of his front pocket and tossed them to Eric. He walked toward Mickey, stopping behind her and placing his hand on the small of her back. “How’s she looking?” he asked the middle-aged woman who was checking Mickey’s heart rate.

  “I don’t need to get checked out. I’m a little scraped up, that’s it.” She looked at him, her eyes rounded and lips pressed in a pout.

  “Si, she just needs to be cleaned up. I can take care of it here if you’d like.”

  Mickey shook her head. “No thanks. I can do it at the hotel just as easily.”

  He glanced down at her and pushed a strand of hair off her face. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, let’s head back. I need to make a quick call while we walk.”

  Mickey nodded and walked quietly beside him while he pulled up Harper’s number and placed the phone to his ear. The shrill rings sounded in his ear, but no one answered. He didn’t want to leave a voicemail, so he hung up and called the office instead. Two rings, followed by a sudden click vibrated through the phone.

  “Hello, you’ve reached Lieutenant Harper’s office.”

  “Mary?” Graham pulled his phone away from his ear and glanced at the screen to make sure he called the right number. Sure enough, Harper’s office number, not his receptionist, was on the screen.

  “Yes, this is Mary. Graham?”

  “Yes. I’m looking for Harper. I have an update for him on the Bogart case.”

  “He’s had all of his calls transferred to me for the next couple of days. He’s asked all agents to write up any reports they have and send them to his email. He’ll look at them when he gets a chance.”

  Graham’s head spun. Harper never took time off. Hell, even if the guy was out of the office for the day he made sure all agents knew how to contact him. It didn’t make sense Harper would just up and leave without letting everyone in on the details.

  “Where is he?”

  “I have no further information to pass along. Just send the lieutenant your report and I’m sure he’ll be back in the office soon.”

  Graham hung up and put his phone in his pocket. His mind spun in so many different directions, he wasn’t sure which way was up. In all of his years with the FBI, he’d never had his superior just disappear in the middle of a big case. Where the hell could he have gone?

  They walked in silence toward the busy street full of life and laughter. Blue and red lights flashed by them on top of a squad car and a siren screamed into the night. The cops had finally showed up. He pushed Harper out of his mind. He needed to focus on Mickey right now, and making sure she was all right.

  The sun had disappeared and the glow of the moon shone bright overhead. Music filled the air and people packed along the sidewalks to take in the sights. Funny how busy the street was mere blocks away from where Mickey had been attacked.

  Graham swallowed past a lump in his throat. He could have lost Mickey tonight. Never in a million years would he have imagined she’d come to mean so much to him. He glanced over at her, and she looked up and her wide mouth curved into a smile. Even with her hair a mess and dried blood along the subtle bruises on her face, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  She was a fighter, and now that’d he’d finally gotten Pete in cuffs, he’d do whatever it took to make her his.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Searing pain scolded her shoulder.

  Mickey pressed her teeth together, not wanting Graham to see how much she hurt as he inspected her. He gently pressed the peroxide-soaked cloth to the wound. Her toes curled into the plush carpet and tears burned her eyes. Rivulets of peroxide ran down her arm and dripped down on the wing-back chair, turning the cream color dark.

  “I know it hurts,” he said in a hushed tone. “We’
ve got to make sure it’s clean.”

  She nodded, looking away and squeezing her eyes shut. Her knees bounced up and down and she counted in her mind to focus on something besides the pain. The cloth lifted from her arm and a cold, wet one replaced it.

  The coolness seeped through her skin and chased away the burning sensation from moments before. She turned to face him. “That feels good.”

  “Focus on that while I look at your hands and arms.” He lifted her arms and placed them on his lap.

  She leaned back against the chair and sucked in a sharp breath when he picked up a pair of tweezers from the side table beside the bed. “What’s that for?”

  “You have some stones and debris in your cuts. I need to get it out.” Her muscles stiffened and she tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “Trust me, okay?”

  “Wait, do you have a mini bar in here?” She glanced around the room and searched for the tiny fridge that usually came in every hotel room. She needed a little liquid courage.

  The lopsided grin that always made her weak in the knees hitched up on his face. “What’s your poison?”

  “I’d kill for another margarita, but I’ll settle for tequila.”

  He stood from the bed and walked across the room to the fridge. She kept her eyes glued to him and focused on his high and tight ass as he leaned forward instead of the ominous tweezers lying beside her. Glass clattered together until he pulled out two small bottles and turned to her with a triumphant smile. “Tequila for both of us.”

  “I’m not sure I want you drunk while holding a deadly weapon to my damaged skin.”

  “If one shot of tequila gets me drunk, we’ve got bigger problems to deal with.” He winked and she shook her head with a laugh. “Do you want a glass? Or are you going to take this like a champ?”

  She lifted her hand in the air and grinned. “Like a champ.”

  He tossed the miniature bottle toward her and she snatched it out of the air. “That’s my girl.”

  Warmth spread down to her toes, edging out the pain in her hand from catching the bottle. His girl? She’d only known him a short time, but the idea of being his made her stomach do cartwheels. Heat invaded her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

  Graham’s feet padded toward her until they came into her line of vision. His fingers lifted her chin until her eyes locked on his. Concern etched fine lines in the corners of his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  A small smile lifted her lips. “Nothing. Let’s get this over with.” She unscrewed the cap of her bottle and hoisted it in the air. “Cheers.”

  Clinking his bottle to hers, he smiled and then lifted the small bottle to his lips.

  The tequila burned her esophagus as it trickled down her throat. The warm liquid pooled in the pit of her stomach and she took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  Graham nodded and sat down opposite her on the bed. He placed her arms on his lap and her muscles tightened. “I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

  The cool metal pressed against her tender flesh and she jerked away. A strong hand clamped down on the crook of her elbow, pressing her arm back down. Tears filled her eyes and she bit into her bottom lip and looked away.

  “What’s your favorite song?” Graham asked.

  Her head whipped around and she faced him again. “Excuse me?”

  “What’s your favorite song?”

  “Why?”

  A husky laugh rumbled from him and skimmed over her. “It’s not like I asked about your stance on gun control. I want to know your favorite song.”

  A million songs popped into her head. Not one stood out as her absolute favorite. “I don’t know. Anything by Journey I guess.”

  Graham focused on her arm, the tweezers poised above her skin, and hummed a few bars of a song. The metal pressed against her skin and she sucked in a sharp breath. His grip tightened and he croaked out the first verse of one of her favorite songs.

  She smiled through her tears as his voice cracked to the words of “Don’t Stop Believing.” “You’re a terrible singer.”

  “Lucky for you I make a better medic.”

  She concentrated on the words and the horrible tone of the melody as he sang. Every time he pressed the tweezers to her palms and her muscles tightened, his voice cracked even more, making her laugh. By the time he’d finished butchering the song, all the dirt had been cleaned from her cuts.

  “Thank God that’s over.” She slunk low in the chair while Graham wrapped her arm with a beige bandage.

  “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”

  “The pain in my arms was nothing compared to my poor ears. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought a cat was being murdered in here.” Graham chuckled and released his grip. She studied his handiwork, turning her wrists to test her flexibility. “Not too shabby. I think I’ll keep you around.”

  He cleared his throat, and she lifted her gaze to meet his. “I like the sound of that.” Tears hovered above the rim of his lower lashes, and she reached out and cupped his cheek. His breath shook as he drew it in and out. “I was scared as hell when I saw you lying on the ground with that sonofabitch on top of you. I thought I’d messed things up again. That I’d lost you.”

  Moisture ran along the lines of her fingers, and she used the pad of her thumb to wipe his face clean. “Hey. I’m all right. And it was my own fault. I shouldn’t have gone after Pete alone. You didn’t do anything wrong. You saved me.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and the lines of his face contorted. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if something happened to you. I couldn’t carry any more guilt like that.”

  Pushing up from the chair, she shifted her weight and sat close to him on the bed. The mattress dipped low beneath their weight and his jean-clad thigh scraped against her smooth skin. “What do you mean by more guilt?” She kept her voice soft, urging him to confide in her.

  “Something backfired on my last case.” He shook his head back and forth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Please open your eyes and look at me.” He did as she asked, and the pain in his gray eyes deepened them to slate and split her heart in two. She linked her hand with his and squeezed, her gaze never wavering from his. “You can tell me. I’m here for you.”

  His gaze dropped to their joined hands and his shoulders slumped forward. “I’ve been with the FBI for the last eight years. I came in wanting to make a difference, and the human trafficking division seemed like an ideal fit. I’ve worked through the ranks and clawed my way to where I am today. Being a special agent, looking for the bad guys day after day, is exactly where I want to be. But it’s not always easy.”

  Her heart hammered against her chest and anxiety zipped through her veins. She couldn’t begin to imagine the things he’d seen. Hell, the nightmares hadn’t left her since the night they’d found that damn house. “I’m sure it’s never easy, but you’re able to help so many innocent women and children. That has to feel good.”

  A half smile lifted his mouth. “It does. I’ve learned to cope with most of the bad I come across, but what happened in Austin has never left my mind. It was a couple of months ago, and my stupidity got an innocent man killed.” His voice fell to a whisper and his hand hung limply in hers.

  “I’m sure that’s not true. You’d never be careless.” She’d only known him a short time, but she was as sure of that as she was her own name. He was damn good at his job, and he would never compromise anyone’s safety. He was too smart.

  He pulled away and stood in front of her, tunneling his hands through his hair. “How would you know? You don’t even know what happened.”

  “Then tell me.” Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to say something. He stood, frozen in time, his gaze fixed to some unseen place.

  “The case was similar to this one. Eric and I got a tip about a small but lucrative sex ring that planned on traveling to Chicago. We’d dealt with this type of thing before. A lot of t
raffickers bring girls up from Mexico. Eric and I started digging around, and I was convinced I’d found the right thread to pull to break open the case.”

  His voice broke off and she reached for him. He shook her off and paced back and forth, creating a well-worn path in front of the bed. Seconds ticked by before she asked, “What happened?”

  “My sight was locked in so tight on one specific person that I missed the bigger picture. Eric had to practically do the job alone because I wouldn’t listen to anyone or anything. By the time Eric opened my eyes to what was happening, we were forced to act quickly…too quickly.” He stopped moving and the tips of his fingers dug into his eye sockets. “We pulled in the local police and raided the house. A good cop died, and I killed the only person who could have given us the answers we needed.”

  Her heart sank. “Was it the person you’d been investigating?”

  “What does that matter? A good man is dead because I didn’t open my damn eyes to what was going on.”

  She tucked her bottom lip into her teeth and weighed her words. What had happened was terrible, but he didn’t need to put all the blame on his shoulders. She wanted to comfort him, not piss him off. “It sounds like your gut was spot on. The man you knew was responsible for being an ass hat was killed because you didn’t take the time you needed to create a better plan of attack. That’s not all on you.”

  “Eric found the house, he coordinated the raid, and he stopped them from moving those girls to Chicago.”

  “And you’d already found the ringleader and were forced to abandon your plan to follow someone else’s.” Doubt darkened his irises, and she pushed on. “What happened was tragic and I’m sorry it happened, but you aren’t wholly responsible. And it’s not the same thing that’s happening now.”

  “It feels the same. Even though we have Pete, we still don’t know where the girls are. And you could have…” His voice trailed off and moisture filled his eyes.

  Pushing herself up from her chair, she stood in front of him and framed his face with her hands. “Hey, look at me. I’m okay. Nothing’s going to happen to me.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. His hand pressed against her neck, keeping her close. Her hand came down on his hard chest and she deepened the kiss. His tongue parted her mouth and she let him invade her warmth. A moan tore through her throat and a strong arm wrapped around her back.