by Kris Norris
He shoved away the images. Nothing was going to happen to her. Period. He firmed his stance as the older man finally walked up to them, nodding at the briefcase.
The guy gave him a disturbing grin. “Everett tells me you’re…unhappy with the grade of cocaine I’ve been giving him. That true?”
Roman tilted his head, keeping his expression fixed. “We both know you’ve been cutting it with more than a few fillers. That might fool the average junkie, Mr…”
“Smith.”
“Smith?” Roman nodded. “Fine.” He raised one hand, drawing it affectionately through the ends of Scarlet’s hair. “My girl deserves better. She needs better, if you know what I mean. Everett seems to think you can give me what I want. Can you or is this just a waste of my time?”
Smith glared at him. “You’re pretty cocky for a playboy model’s agent, Mr. Kincaid.”
Roman grinned. At least his name hadn’t sent off any alarms with Smith. “Have you seen her? She’s exquisite. Trust me. Scarlet’s the next Marilyn Monroe. Classy, sexy, with curves men would kill for. I’m already getting requests for her to attend a number of political conventions—the kind that don’t get publicized. But sometimes she needs a little something extra to keep her going. Either you have that or you don’t. Which is it?”
“Oh, I’ve got it. But what makes you think I’ll deal with you?”
“Because you’re a businessman and after we shove all the bullshit aside, your sole motivation is money.” He laid the briefcase on the hood, punching in the codes to release the locks. He paused, ensuring Scarlet had a chance to see which number he’d inputted, silently informing her he’d released the hidden compartment, as well, before opening the lid. He spun the unit around, exposing the layers of bound bills. “And I have plenty of that.”
Smith stared at the case, reaching for it when Roman snapped it shut, pushing it back to Scarlet.
He tsked the dealer. “Not until I know what I’m paying for. And it’d better be a far sight better than what I’ve seen so far.”
Smith glared at him, visually measuring him up before waving his hand. One of the men behind him reached into the truck, removing a small duffle bag. He joined them at the front of the vehicle, handing the bag to Smith.
Smith smiled as he placed it beside the briefcase, slipping the zipper open. “Go ahead.”
Roman inched closer, examining the powered contents wrapped in plastic. He held out his hand, waiting until Smith reluctantly gave him a small knife. Roman shook his head, cutting a small slice in the top container, gathering a bit of the contents on the tip of the blade. He pressed his finger into the powder, licking a fraction of it off his skin.
He arched an eyebrow. “Better. But if this is as good as you’ve got…”
Smith pushed forward, crowding against Roman’s chest. “Are you saying my stuff isn’t good enough for you?”
“Are you telling me this is really what I came to buy?”
The man hovered within inches of Roman’s face before cracking a smile. He punched Roman on the shoulder, shouting out an order for someone to bring him the other bag. Another of Smith’s men appeared beside the man, a black bag in tow.
Smith motioned to the hood and the guy lowered the bag, taking the other duffle with him. Roman glanced at the offering, repeating his actions with the new supply. He glanced at Scarlet, giving her a guarded nod. This was what they’d been waiting for.
He turned to Smith. “Now we’re communicating. How much?”
“For all of it? One-twenty-five.”
“For four kilos? That’s a bit steep.”
Smith shrugged. “You won’t find shit that pure anywhere else. You said you wanted the best. That comes at a price.”
Roman made a point of turning to Scarlet, bending low as if discussing it with her. “Lay down cover fire then get your ass to the other side of the truck. Understood?”
Her expression clearly told him to fuck off, that this wasn’t her first rodeo, but she nodded, plastering on that fake smile she’d been using since they’d made love.
You mean since you fucked her and walked off without anything more than some token words.
He grunted, silencing the voice in his head as he twisted to face Smith. “Fine. How often can you get this amount?”
“How often do you want it?”
“Monthly.”
Smith snorted. “Four kilos a month for her?”
“I didn’t say it was only for Scarlet. Just that she deserved the best. My other clients are high-scale. They’ll pay to get this grade.” He extended his hand. “Do we have ourselves an understanding, Mr. Smith?”
Smith stared at Roman’s hand for several moments then shook it, nodding at the bag. “The money.”
“Of course. Scarlet.”
She moved in close, keeping the case snugged to her chest before giving Smith a devastating smile. Then she shoved the unit forward, hands skimming over the back before the briefcase toppled off the hood, crashing to the floor—the loud noise sparking a chain reaction.
The doors behind them exploded inward, sending shredded bits of metal shooting into the air as plumes of smoke filled the room. Men in uniform swarmed through the gaping hole, bursts of gunfire popping to life.
Scarlet tossed him one of the guns from the briefcase, clipping two of the thugs while he took out the other. Smith scrambled for cover, yelling at Everett to fucking shoot. The man shielded himself with the blonde, yanking her by her hair as he fired toward them. Roman grabbed Scarlet, dragging her behind the truck as a bullet ricocheted off the hood. It grazed his arm, flaring pain up through his shoulder.
“Shit!” Her face hovered in front of his, tears glistening in her eyes. “Roman—”
“It’s nothing. Stay down. I’ll…”
His words hissed into a gasp as Scarlet’s eyes widened. She fisted his shirt, shoving him sideways as she fired, aiming behind him. She got off three rounds before her body jerked twice, knocking her back. She hit hard, head lolling off to one side.
“Fuck, Scarlet!”
He dashed to her side after clearing the immediate area, ignoring Everett’s body splayed out on the cement behind him. She’d taken out the bastard, but at what cost?
He kneeled beside her, stomach dropping as blood blossomed on her shoulder, the red color mocking him. “No, no, no.”
He clamped his hands against the wounds, cursing when she cried out, her chest heaving beneath him. Shit, it should have been him. She’d yanked him aside and taken the bullets meant for him.
“Easy, darling. Just stay with me.”
“Roman.”
“Save your strength.” He glanced around, trying to pinpoint paramedics amidst the chaos. “Medic! I need a fucking medic!”
“No, Roman.” Her eyes rolled back for a moment, her breath stalling.
“God, Scarlet, please. Just lie still and stay with me.”
“Youneedtoknow,” she mumbled, threading all the words together.
Did she say her feet were cold?
“Hush. Don’t talk. Medics are on their way. Just stay with me. Let me see those beautiful eyes of yours.”
She offered him a weak smile, eyelids drifting shut.
“Scarlet! Where the hell are the medics?”
He cursed again, scooping her into his arms, holding her tight against him as he ran through the warehouse. Fuckers had probably kept the paramedics outside until they’d secured the scene. He dashed through the doors, looking for a damn ambulance. He spotted one just inside the police line and headed for it.
“Roman.”
He looked down as her head lolled against his shoulder. Her blood soaked his shirt, like warm sticky patches of honey on his skin, as her eyelids fluttered then closed. Her lips moved, but no words came out as he laid her down across the stretcher, watching the paramedics swarm over her. He stayed close, his chest too tight to speak, her hand sandwiched between his. She opened her eyes one more time as they lifted her up.
<
br /> “I love you.”
He let her hand slip from his, unable to move as they pushed her into the back. He managed to take a step forward, but one of the medics blocked his way, mumbling something about meeting them at the hospital. He nodded, knowing he should say something in return, but he couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe past the lump in his chest as reality slammed back.
Her soft words played in his head as the ambulance hummed to life, sirens wailing, lights casting multicolored dots across the asphalt before it sped off. He stared after it, unable to move when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned, looking into a pair of blue eyes, the familiar gleam in them threatening to drop him to his knees.
He forced himself to swallow. “Aiden, what—”
“Joint task force, remember? I got the S.W.A.T. guys to let me tag along. Did you really think I’d simply stand by and hope you made it through this meeting alive? What kind of federal agent would that make me? What kind of man?” Aiden offered him an apologetic smile. “Come on. I’ll take you to the hospital. You need your arm stitched.”
“I’m fine. Scarlet…”
He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t acknowledge aloud that he might lose her. Fuck, he should have insisted he ride in the ambulance with her. Hold her hand. Talk to her. Instead, she’d blown him away with three small words.
How long had he wanted to hear her say that? To return feelings he wasn’t brave enough to show? Yet, the admission only increased the fear tight in his chest, making the simple act of breathing next to impossible.
“I know. But you’re in no condition to drive. Please, Roman. Let me take you.”
Aiden remained strangely quiet throughout the drive, pulling into parking lot then opening the door for him. He followed Roman inside as Roman headed for the nurse’s station, stumbling against it when his balance shifted. The woman behind the desk scowled at him before her gaze landed on his arm. She gave him a knowing smile, motioning to someone behind him.
Roman opened his mouth, when Aiden palmed his back, leading him into an adjoining room. He pointed to the bed, helping Roman up before crowding in front of him. The man’s hands rose to his shirt as he began flipping open the buttons, each one making his heart race faster.
Roman snagged Aiden’s arm, keeping him from freeing the last button. “Aiden.”
The man smiled. “Please. Give me some credit. I’m just helping. Promise. I know now’s not the time to cloud your thoughts with anything else. Not with Scarlet’s life on the line. But in case you haven’t noticed, you’re bleeding…rather profusely. Doctor needs to stitch that, buddy, or you’ll pass out on us.”
Roman sighed, glancing at his arm. Shit. He hadn’t even realized he’d been hit that badly—not with Scarlet’s blood soaked through to his skin. He nodded, going through the motions, barely noticing the entire procedure. Everything seemed shaded in gray as he finally made his way to the waiting room, staring at the swinging door in the distance, wondering if the next person to walk through it would save his life or end it.
Time bled together until a coffee cup appeared in front of him. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he took the offering, shuffling over slightly as Aiden sank into the cushion beside him. The man leaned back, the heat from his body curling around Roman, caressing his skin like a physical touch. He finally built the nerve to look at the guy, regretting the decision as soon as their gazes met. Compassion colored Aiden’s eyes, an easy smile tilting his lips.
He nudged Roman with his knee. “I’m assuming the fact you look like a zombie means you haven’t heard anything, yet?”
Roman shrugged, wincing as pain shot up his arm before nodding at the doors in the distance. “Keep waiting for someone to walk through that door. Not sure I want to hear what they have to say.”
“Scarlet’s strong. She’ll fight her way through this.”
Roman pushed to his feet, pacing the length of the room. “She took two bullets point blank to the shoulder. Fuck, did you see how much blood she’d lost?”
“It was hard to miss. But that doesn’t mean she can’t make it. Have faith.” He stood, moving in beside him as Roman stared out a window. “I’m sensing something’s changed between you two. Long week?”
Roman closed his eyes, remembering the soft give of her ass and the warm, wet slide of her sex. How she whispered her easy acceptance of him, kissing him as if she’d been waiting for the chance as long as he had. “You could say that.”
Aiden released a long sigh. “I’m not blind, Roman. Or naïve. You were worried being that close to her, posing as her lover, would push you too far. I’m thinking it didn’t quite push you enough. If you two became lovers, and I’m pretty damn sure you did, it didn’t seem to give you the answers you’ve been looking for. You still seem…divided.”
Roman glanced at the man. “Aiden, I…”
“Hey. I didn’t tag along so I could judge. Or preach. You’ve always been up front about your love for Scarlet. I knew that going in. And what we’ve had… I know you have feelings for me, too. And I think you’re smart enough to figure out that you mean more to me than a guy who shares my bed at times.”
Roman turned to fully face Aiden. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“Just that maybe loving two people isn’t such a bad thing. Especially if your partner shares your dilemma. You’re not the only one who has feelings for that girl.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re in love with Scarlet?”
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m well on my way.” Aiden traced his hand back along Roman’s jaw. “And completely there where you’re concerned.” He eased away. “Just…give it some thought. This doesn’t have to tear you apart if you don’t let it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because you weren’t ready to hear it. Roman, buddy, you’re not in or out of the closet. You’re stuck permanently in the doorway. And this was too important for me to push you. I’ve never felt threatened by Scarlet. Hell, the girl’s charm is infectious. Being around her and you this past year…” He shrugged. “What can I say? You two are a lot alike. You have a way of working under someone’s skin. I was hoping you’d come to this conclusion on your own. That you’d see that the three of us could be amazing together. Unfortunately, you’re extremely stubborn.”
“I… Fuck. I don’t even know what to say to that. How to get it all straight inside my head.”
“Wrong head. And you might want to try using your heart.”
Roman stared at Aiden, the familiar warm feeling billowing in his chest. Damn, Aiden was right. What he felt for Scarlet… Shit. It was mirrored in Aiden. And he’d been fooling himself if he thought he wasn’t just as invested in Aiden as he was in the woman still fighting for her life.
Roman speared his hand through his hair, leaning his head against the wall when the far doors opened, a man dressed in scrubs and a flowing white lab coat slowly walking through. Roman pushed off the wall, meeting the man halfway. He clenched his jaw, preparing for the worst as the man nodded at him, releasing a long, slow breath.
The doctor smiled. “I’ll go out on a limb and assume you’re Detective Roman Kincaid?”
“How’s Scarlet?”
“Woman’s a fighter. She suffered extreme blood loss and sustained multiple fractures to her shoulder and lacerations of the surrounding tissues. Gave us all quite a scare. But we were able to stop the bleeding. Repaired most of the damage, though she’ll probably need additional surgeries if she wants full mobility back in that joint.”
Roman blinked, a strange ringing in his ears. “So, she’s okay?”
“She’ll be our guest for a while, but…there’s no reason she shouldn’t make a full recovery.” He gave Roman a pat on the shoulder. “Get some rest. You don’t look so good, yourself.”
“When can I see her?”
“She’s in recovery. And we’re keeping her sedated for the next couple of days. Go home. Sleep. Or at least curl up on
a couch somewhere.”
Roman thanked the man, sinking into the nearest chair, as his strength just seemed to fade.
Aiden kneeled in front of him, tilting his head to snag his gaze. “Roman?”
“I thought I’d lost her.”
“We. That we’d lost her.”
Roman stared at the man. God, how could he be so sure? So at ease with his decision? With being attracted—hell, in love—with two people? Roman closed his eyes. Damn, he was tired.
Aiden squeezed his thigh. “You need to rest. Stop thinking for a few hours. You’ll figure it out.”
Roman nodded. He needed to sleep. Clear his head. He could decide his next move tomorrow, when he didn’t feel completely lost. When his every thought wasn’t centered on the fact his heart was bound to two people, and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
Chapter Three
Three months later…
Scarlet kneeled next to the body, staring at the letters carved into the woman’s stomach. The marks were rough. Jagged. The killer’s anger clearly etched in the deep gashes and repeated strikes.
April.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? And why did the girl’s face look disturbingly familiar?
A man moved in beside her, his boots clicking to a halt. “Damn. That’s not something you see every day. Whoever did this certainly has a lot of anger inside. Any idea who the woman is?”
Scarlet rose off the dirty warehouse floor, covering her mouth with the back of her hand against the stench. She shuffled over as the crime scene techs arrived, photographing everything in sight. “No wallet, no personal effects. Not even clothes to track down. We’ll have to wait for forensics to give us a name. Her hands are intact. Should be able to get usable prints. Looks like she’s had some work done, too. Those are implants. There should be serial numbers recorded on them we can track down if all else fails. But shit… I don’t know about you, Bates, but I’ve never seen a body this tortured. Creeps me the hell out.”