He smiled, but it was small. “I did, every time.”
“You know, maybe when all of this blows over, we can go there together some time.”
“I don’t know.”
Juliana sat back, surprised. “What do you mean, I don’t know?”
“Last night, and that kiss this morning, it shouldn’t have happened.”
Her mouth dropped in shock, but in her surprise, she couldn’t muster any words.
“You could have been killed this morning. I’m supposed to be keeping you safe,” he explained. “And I can’t do that if all I can think about is getting you naked.” He shook his head. “I think we made a mistake last night. I shouldn’t have fucked you.”
“Are you kidding me?” she stood and looked down at him. “I was there too, Mitch. If you think that you were fucking me, then I’m not buying it. We both want this. Why try to deny it? With everything else that’s happening that’s what you regret?”
“Jules, I don’t regret being with you, not at all. But the timing is wrong. I have to focus on your safety, not my libido. I put both of us, and Azura in danger this morning. I knew there was something up with that van, but I ignored my instincts because I was too busy looking at your ass. I have to stay alert, and away from distraction.”
She rolled her eyes, and turned away from him. She was angry, frustrated. “You know Mitch, I’m going to let you in on the secret that I’ve never felt safer than when I was in your arms, but if you can’t focus on both, then I don’t know what to tell you. I just need to release a bit of tension every now and again.” She cleared her dishes and put her empty plate in the sink. “I’m going to take a bath. Feel free to come find me if you change your mind.”
Chapter 24
“Detective Swanson, to what do I owe this visit?” Colin O’Connell asked in his thick Irish brogue, as he sat across from Mitch at the table.
It was the next day, and sunshine broke through the barred windows of the prison visitation room. Mitch looked around as friends and family met with their beloved convicts, some smiled, others cried. But there was no such emotion behind his own meeting with the former Irish mob boss that sat with him at a table that was securely bolted to the floor. Mitch decided to skip any pleasantries. “Colin, do you know how many of your men have been murdered since your incarceration?”
Colin took a big breath. “I have some idea.”
“Ten,” he answered. “Do you want to know who’s responsible?”
“I don’t think I need many guesses. It’s Petrova, that Russian piece of shit. He’s killing my men,” he muttered with a scowl. “I’ve even been told to watch my back in here.”
“That’s right,” Mitch confirmed. “And he’s causing us some trouble on the outside, as well.”
“I believe it. I heard about the explosion at Brewed Moon. Too bad, that was a nice place. He’s got some pull in the department, doesn’t he?”
Mitch’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
“I had influence there, as well, if you haven’t forgotten,” he explained. “Men who are easily bought don’t care who’s paying.”
Mitch leaned in, resting on his elbows. “Who was on your payroll?”
Colin grinned, avoiding the question. “So, what does any of this have to do with me? I’m locked up in here. I’m not connected anymore.”
Mitch laughed, it was loud and unexpected, gathering him hard glares from the others in the room. “Bullshit,” Mitch leaned in. “You’ve got as many connections in here as you did on the outside.” He leaned forward again. “That’s why I’m here. We both agree that Petrova needs to go. But because of his pull in the department, he’s virtually untouchable. See, I would gladly take him down, but I’m bound by my own system.” He paused, and leaned in further. He lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be heard by anyone in the vicinity. “So, Colin, I’m wondering: if there was someone in your organization who is strong and trustworthy enough to take out our mutual enemy, and clamp down on the Russian’s expansion, who would that be?”
The Irish man broke into wide smile that annoyed Mitch to no end. He hated that he had to go to his former enemy, grovelling for help. “Well, if this isn’t an intriguing turn of events. I never thought that the men who killed my brother and put me in jail would need my help. Why should I tell you this? Just so you can target more of my family? If I wasn’t already locked up, I’d say this was a shoddy attempt at entrapment.”
“You mentioned the explosion downtown. Well, that was an attempt on my life. It’s personal now. Besides, if Petrova’s goons are off the street, it might take some of the pressure off you. With your people back into power, you would be a made man in here.”
Colin seemed thought about it. “Alright, it sounds like you’ve got some skin in the game detective. But I warn you, it’s a dangerous game. To answer your question, if I had to suggest one person who’d have a shot at taking the reins in this town, it would be my nephew Declan, Dylan’s son. But as far as I know, he went back in Ireland to get away from the violence after your brother killed his father. Still, Declan’s the only one with the juice and, let’s say, the leadership skills to do it.”
Mitch thought about that. He knew a little about Declan O’Connell. The young man was smart, charismatic, ruthless. “Do you think that Declan would consider coming back to St. John’s?”
“I’m sure he would like to come for a visit. He’ll need some assistance getting back up to speed with the situation on the ground. But I’ll only make the call if some guarantee can be made that he’ll be safe.”
“I can’t guarantee it,” Mitch told him. “But I don’t think he’ll need to worry.”
“I don’t want to see him end up like me,” Colin told him, “such an outcome would have repercussions for you.”
Mitch gave a casual shrug. “As long as he keeps himself out of trouble, it’ll be fine. We’ll be paying attention to the disposition of the police and the Russians.”
Mitch and Colin kept the rest conversation vague, lest any nosey people get suspicious.
Colin sat back, considering what Mitch had told him, no doubt envisioning the possibilities of an Irish return to power. He smiled. “I’ll send for him. It sounds like an opportune time to test his mettle.”
Mitch left the prison with a sense of dread. As a police officer, he tried to do his best to defend the law and protect the citizens of his city. But when some officers were working against that ideal, Mitch felt no course of action remained than to fight fire with fire. If that meant skirting the law, or operating outside its bounds, then he reconciled it by telling himself that he was doing the wrong things for the right reasons. Working with Colin O’Connell definitely brought him into a morally grey area at best. He sat in his truck and took a deep breath. Even though he believed that it was his only option, he hoped that he was making the right decision, that it wouldn’t go sideways and end up out of his control. Mitch’s hands shook when he pictured Brewed Moon’s blown-out storefront, and Juliana, unharmed but covered in dust, and he convinced himself that he was making the right decision. He was willing to do anything to take down Yuri Petrova.
As hard as he tried not to, Mitch couldn’t help think of his father. Stuart Swanson had been a good cop. But then his allegiances had shifted. Mitch had heard stories about him siding with the wrong people, accepting payments for despicable deeds, making bad deals, and it had led to his murder. Mitch fought off the doubts he felt. He wasn’t like his father.
He wanted to go home. He had left Juliana alone for the day, with strict instructions to stay away from the windows and to not answer the door under any circumstances. She looked like she wanted to argue, but thankfully didn’t. He hadn’t had the energy to argue further about it after the sleepless night he’d had. He recalled with a grimace that she hadn’t said much to him since the night before when he claimed that them sleeping together shouldn’t have happened. He had to stay focussed on taking down Yuri Petrova and keeping her safe.
Still, he didn’t regret sleeping with her for a second.
Before he addressed anything with Juliana he needed to go to the precinct. His team had been tied up with busy work, so he wouldn’t see them, but he needed to pick up a couple of files so he could still work at home. Steve had managed to get his hands on the case files for the bombing, and he’d covertly made copies for Mitch.
Mitch walked through the precinct, into to the war room, thankfully avoiding his superior officer. He gathered what he needed, and using a little extra care, or paranoia, he lifted his shirt and put the manila folder down the waistband of his jeans and covered it. He walked from the room, his gait was stiff, but he was almost out the door when he heard Lewis’s deep voice address him.
“Swanson,” he said.
“Yes, sir?”
“I didn’t expect to see you here. How is your leave?”
“Relaxing.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I was just wondering if any of the guys were around for an early lunch break.”
Lewis’s eyes turned cold. “Someone in the precinct accessed Don Smith and Mike Roberts’s personnel files,” he told him, point blank. “I was wondering if you knew who might do something like that?”
Mitch maintained his stoic poker face, and crossed his arms. He shook his head. “I have no idea. If you recall, you put me on leave.”
“Cut the bullshit, Swanson. There aren’t a lot of people who could even do something like that. I know that Steve Parker is some kind of computer genius.”
Mitch shook his head, saying nothing.
“And another thing, your witness, Ms. Lark, I didn’t see her name in any paperwork, or registered to any other safe house.”
Mitch bristled. His gut tightened as he wondered why Captain Lewis was looking into information about Juliana’s case. “That’s because she isn’t.”
“So, where is she? We need to know in case we need her to come in. Or if Smith or Roberts, you know, the detectives who are actually in charge of the case, need to speak to her.”
“Given what happened at the last safe house, I’d rather not say where she is right now. Just let me take care of bringing her in when it’s needed. Smith and Roberts know that I’m in contact with her.” Mitch nodded, and walked past his captain. “And I’ll talk to my team, but I know that none of them tried to access those personnel files.”
“You do that. And a warning, keep yourselves clean. I have no problem replacing you as the team leader or transferring you somewhere else.”
Mitch cocked his head to the side at the threat. “Captain?”
Lewis grinned. “Watch yourself, Swanson,” he said, walking past him.
Chapter 25
Mitch opened the door to his condo and again found his home filled with the delicious smells of a home-cooked meal. He inhaled deeply. It was nice, he realized, having someone to come home to instead of coming home to an empty and cold apartment after a long shift. He walked into the kitchen and saw that Juliana was cooking dinner, and the racks of muffins, cookies and pies that lined his counter-top showed that she’d made herself busy in the kitchen in his absence.
“I hope you don’t mind that I did a little baking. I had to do something to keep me busy,” she said. “Otherwise, I would just go crazy, worrying about how I’m going to get my business up and running again.”
“Did you contact your insurance broker?”
She gave a humourless laugh. “There’s the fun part,” she told him with a frown. “Insurance won’t cover any of the damage because it’s classified as an act of terrorism. And guess who doesn’t have terrorism insurance?”
“Jesus Christ,” Mitch muttered. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing you can do except for catch these guys and make them pay. I’ll figure something out.”
A silence descended over them, as Mitch thought about the ways he would indeed make Petrova pay. The man was finished, and Mitch would see to it that he wouldn’t hurt anyone else again.
He caught Juliana’s eye and she bowed her head. “Also, I’m sorry about last night.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“No. You’re right. Things are just tense right now,” she explained, her expression was sad. “You didn’t come to bed last night.”
He hadn’t. He’d actually woken up that morning with his head on his desk, and a wicked cramp in his neck. “I was working. I must have drifted off.”
“I thought that maybe you were mad.”
“Never. But now that we’re talking about it, I should probably sleep in the office tonight, as well.”
He would do anything to erase the hurt he’d put on her face. “Oh.”
“It’s just that I can’t afford to get distracted anymore. I’ve got a lot of balls in the air right now, and you and I, we’re blurring some serious lines here. If I don’t focus all of my attention on keeping you safe… I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I think you’re scared, Mitch” she said her voice low. “I think you’re using this as an excuse to not get close to me. You’re afraid that if you let yourself be vulnerable you won’t be the tough guy anymore.
“That’s not-”
“I’m a pretty good judge of character,” she said. “And I’ve got you figured out. You didn’t tell me who you were at Leather & Lace because you didn’t want to admit that you can be anything but Mr. Serious.” Her smile was smug. “You can be vulnerable with me, you can break down those walls, and that scares you.”
Mitch cleared his throat. He didn’t want to admit how right she was. But he shook his head. “You’re wrong. This is about-”
“My safety, I know,” she completed for him, turning away with a sigh.
He knew that he’d disappointed her. Juliana turned back to the stove, attending to her cooking. “Why don’t you go clean up? Dinner will be ready soon.”
Mitch barely watched the hockey game on TV. It was late, and the room was dark except for the white glow that the screen cast throughout his living room. After Juliana went to bed he’d retired to his office to stretch out on the too-short, too-lumpy futon. It was the first night he’d ever tried sleeping on it, but it was so uncomfortable that he might as well just throw the fucking thing out. Sleep hadn’t come, so he figured some television might tire his mind. He’d found a west coast hockey game, and had watched a full period before he realized that he had no idea what teams were playing. Even though his tired eyes blurred the picture on the screen, sleep continued to elude him.
Work was what normally kept him awake at night, but for once, it wasn’t that. It was the woman who was currently sleeping in his bed. He took a swallow of beer and thought about the sleep he’d had with his arms wrapped tightly around her, the most peaceful he’d had in years. And telling her that he wouldn’t be sharing his bed with her anymore about tore him apart. But what she’d said about him. She’d hit the nail on the head. He was afraid around her, and not just for her safety. He’d never let himself get close to woman before, and Juliana did make him drop his guard. Maybe keeping her at arms length was as much for his own well-being as it was for hers.
They also wouldn’t be getting physical anymore. At least, not until the case was closed, and she was no longer in danger. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t remember her soft skin, the look of her toned body as he bent over it, plunging inside of her, the sounds she made while he drove her mad with pleasure, the way she kneeled before him and wrapped her lips around him…
At the image, he could feel his blood surge south, and with his eyes still on the TV screen, he dropped a distracted hand into his lap and palmed the erection that was quickly forming behind the zipper of his jeans. He cast a curious glance down the dark hallway that led to his bedroom, where Juliana was sleeping, he unfastened the button of his jeans and lowered his zipper.
He pushed his hand inside his boxers an
d bit back a moan when his fingers encircled his rigid length. In the light of the television, he extracted himself from his jeans and settled into the back of the couch. As he moved his hand up and down, circling the hard flesh, he imagined that it was Juliana’s hands on him, her mouth. With his palm, he gathered the liquid which accumulated at the tip, and spread it over the head, and exhaled roughly. His movements became quicker, as he pumped his closed fist over his dick. His breathing increased, and he leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing the fantasy of Juliana to take over.
“How’s the game?” he heard her voice ring in his ears. “Or are you just thinking about scoring?”
Mitch’s head snapped up to see Juliana standing in the hallway, watching him as he attempted to stuff himself back into his jeans. “I-”
She smiled. “Don’t stop on my account,” she told him, sauntering into the room to stand in front of him, relishing in his embarrassment for a moment, before kneeling between his legs. “You know, I’ve never played hockey,” she whispered reaching out to lower his zipper again, releasing the pressure in his lap. “But I think I’m a pretty good stick handler.”
Mitch’s chuckle was cut short as she ran her hand down the front of his boxers and took him in her hand. His posture was as rigid as his cock as he exhaled roughly, watching her ample cleavage hover over his crotch. He knew that he should stop her, they couldn’t do this anymore, but he lost the fight. He was transfixed. To hell with it! They could establish new ground rules in the morning. Now, he would allow himself to be taken over the by the feeling of her hands on him.
“Mitch, you’re so tense,” Juliana whispered. “Just relax.” She tugged on the waistband of his jeans, and he lifted his hips to allow her to pull them down to the middle of his thighs. Her eyes widened in appreciation and she took one look at him before leaning in. Her hand on his chest pushed him back to the couch. Her lips parted over the head, taking the tip into her mouth, he felt her tongue swirl around the sensitive crown and he moaned loudly in response. She quickly released him, sitting back on her heels.
Double Shot to the Heart (Brewed Moon Book 2) Page 16