Marissa tried to hold out, not wanting to break this connection, not willing to let go of this man, but when he released one of her hands and sought her clit with his fingers, she lost it.
“Oh, God, yes!” she screamed as she shattered, her entire body feeling as though it had broken into hundreds of jagged shards, scattered all around.
A final growl and Trace was following her right over, his eyes locked with hers, and it was in that moment that Marissa knew … this wasn’t just sex.
It was…
It was everything.
Thirty-Two
Sunday morning
Seven people arrested, all linked to a string of popular downtown Dallas nightclubs and topless bars. Authorities state that these seven people are charged with a variety of crimes including money laundering, racketeering, distribution of narcotics, and sale of unauthorized firearms. Based on information recently obtained from a popular Dallas-area political blogger, the U.S. Attorney’s office has announced that more charges are underway.
The Adorite family, including Samuel Adorite, the patriarch of the family who rocketed to the top of Dallas’s wealthiest entrepreneurs in the last two decades, appears to be at the core of the recently uncovered use of the family-owned businesses to launder nearly one hundred million dollars as well as the unlawful distribution and sale of narcotics and firearms.
Although the Adorites have been indicted on multiple charges in the past, the family has never been found guilty of a single charge. However, court documents indicate there is an eighth suspect, unrelated to the Adorites and unnamed at this time.
Casper thrust his hands through his hair as he stared back at the computer. He’d read the article RT had provided him and Bryce with several days ago more than once. Hell, more than twenty times at this point, yet he was still at a loss.
For the better part of the morning, he’d been at war with himself, trying to see what they all seemed to be missing. It was making them all neurotic in their attempt to bring this man to a halt, to get Marissa out of danger.
At this point, he half expected Bryce to explode, and rightfully so. His only daughter was the target of a vindictive killer: the unnamed suspect.
Yep, that was the angle Casper was following after talking to RT a short time ago. Apparently RT’s meeting with Max Adorite had gone as he’d expected, with the other man revealing nothing more than his own innocence. Although RT seemed to think that there was more information in what Max hadn’t said. The longer Casper thought about it, the more he agreed.
Especially since… Shit, he wasn’t sure he even believed it.
Had it not been for the mention of the unnamed suspect in the article, Casper wouldn’t have thought much of it. Aside from that, the authorities had once again attempted to nail the Adorite family for the long list of crimes they’d been involved in since the dawn of time. But that wasn’t news. Especially not to Casper.
They’d had a few dealings with the family referred to by the media as the Southern Boy Mafia, a family of good ol’ boys—yeah, right—who had taken the reins years ago as Dallas’s biggest crime family. In Casper’s humble opinion, there wasn’t anything good about the group. It would take a hell of a lot more than a meddling journalist to bring them down, regardless of whether there was a RICO case against them or not. The breaking news of their most recent takedown that had rocked Dallas last year hadn’t even crossed his mind once because it was an all-too-common phenomenon. How the Adorites managed to evade authorities still stymied Casper, but he wasn’t interested in how they ran their business.
Money laundering and drug trafficking weren’t the worst of the evil deeds that went on around them each and every day, but Casper wasn’t all that worried about that. His concern was with the unnamed suspect mentioned.
And how the hell had Marissa been pulled into this? He seriously doubted it had anything to do with her contribution to the story as the article had suggested.
Casper had read her articles. He’d seen most of what she dealt with, which truthfully was almost amusing at times. It wasn’t surprising that she’d stumbled upon a story such as this, but honestly, he was floored that she’d been practically named in the article.
It didn’t take much to put two and two together.
There was something still missing, though. Something big. He feared that it was right there in front of their fucking noses, as Max Adorite had suggested, practically written in bright lights that flashed along to music, yet they still couldn’t see it.
“Got a minute?”
Casper looked up to see Hunter standing in his office, glowering at him.
“What’s up?” he asked, closing the Internet browser before leaning back in his chair.
Hunter stepped into his office, his hands thrust into his pockets. Casper would’ve offered for his son to take a seat, but he knew Hunter. The man was strung tight, and, well, he almost couldn’t blame him.
“I need an assignment,” Hunter said in a rush.
Casper narrowed his eyes, practically seeing the tension radiating off Hunter’s bunched shoulders. “And you’re coming to me why?”
It wasn’t like Casper handed out the jobs. Hell, he’d been practically retired for the last few years, taking a huge step back so that RT and Hunter could take the lead. They’d done a phenomenal job, working alongside TJ and growing the company by leaps and bounds. Far more than what Casper and Bryce had done in the initial years of the company. If anyone knew of the assignments that needed to be addressed, it was Hunter, not him.
“I…” Hunter trailed off, walking over to the window and staring out for a long moment.
When Hunter finally turned back to look at him, Casper saw the devastation on his son’s face. There was only one reason his boy ever looked like that, and unfortunately, her name was Danielle Davidson.
Casper sighed. Love could be a brutal bitch at times, he knew.
“I don’t think I can be here when she comes back, Dad.”
Hunter’s honesty shocked him, only because Hunter hadn’t said two words about Dani in nearly two years.
Casper pushed to his feet and headed toward his office door. Closing it with a gentle click, he turned back to face his son, sliding his hands into his pockets. “What did you have in mind?”
“Shit, I don’t know,” Hunter huffed, his voice tortured. “Anything. Shit, I’ll go overseas. Anywhere but here.”
Casper knew Hunter was still devastated after Dani had walked out on him, leaving him at the altar on what had been the most anticipated day of Hunter’s life. It had been absolutely no secret that Hunter had been head over heels in love with Dani. And until that day, they’d all thought she felt the same.
For whatever reason, she’d bailed, and as far as Casper knew, no one had ever learned why. She’d merely skipped town, refusing to provide Hunter with an explanation.
Never mind the fact that they’d all been suspicious of her disappearance. Her leaving him on their wedding day had been so far out of character for her, Casper was pretty sure they’d never fully understand.
“Do you think it’ll help?” he asked Hunter, standing a few feet away.
Hunter looked up at him, his face once again expressionless, his bright eyes cold. “Nothing will ever fucking help.”
Casper could only imagine.
When they all thought Hunter would’ve shaken off the anger that had clouded his world since Dani had left, he’d proven that it wasn’t that easy.
Casper understood to a degree. From the moment he’d met Elizabeth, he’d been head over heels in love with her, insisting almost immediately that he would be spending the rest of his life with her. That hadn’t been as easy as it sounded because he’d actually been dating Emily at the time. What he’d thought was a tragedy had actually righted itself when he’d learned that Liz had felt the same for him and that Emily, bless her sweet little heart, had actually felt something more for Bryce. Their lives had worked out the way they were supposed to.
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He wished he could say the same for Hunter.
Just as Hunter had attempted to do with Dani, Casper had done with Liz. Once she’d admitted her love for him, he’d made her his wife, and from that very day, after more than thirty-four years of marriage and four children between them, he couldn’t imagine a day without her.
“What do you want me to do?” Casper asked now, not sure he could help but wanting Hunter to know he’d do what was necessary if that was what Hunter needed.
“I don’t know what else to do,” Hunter said, glaring back at him. “I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’m not going to be here when she gets back.”
Casper considered that for a moment. “Do you think you’ll run into her?”
Hunter gave him a get real expression and Casper fought the urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny, but it was clear that Hunter’s willpower where this woman was concerned was nonexistent.
“I need answers,” Hunter exclaimed. “I need a good fucking reason why she left, and I know myself, Dad. I’ll go looking for her. I want her to look me in the eyes and tell me that she didn’t love me and that’s why she left.”
Casper knew that wasn’t the case. Dani had loved Hunter. He’d seen it. She’d been young, only twenty-two at the time and eight years younger than Hunter, but the two of them had never seemed to have an issue with their age difference. Or at least he hadn’t thought so.
Before he could say anything, Hunter was heading for the door. Casper hid his shock well, choosing not to question Hunter or force him to open up. He knew it had taken a tremendous amount of guts for Hunter to admit what he had already. Of all of his children, Hunter was by far the most closed off.
“Let me know what you decide,” Casper called after Hunter.
“Yeah.” Hunter’s single-word answer was punctuated by the sound of the door slamming behind him.
□«»□«»□«»□
Ryan was staring at the article on his iPad, his breath lodged in his throat. How had he missed this? How had any of them missed this?
When he’d first had the niggling thought that he’d missed something in the original article, Ryan had scoured the Internet for more information. From the time he’d stepped foot in his parents’ house yesterday morning until now, he’d thought of little else. He’d spent hours reading various articles, and that was when he’d found a second article written by the same journalist: Douglas Forthnet. The title: Gun running: Could it be a coincidence?
And here they thought they were some world-class investigators, yet the most obvious reason for this nightmare had been right under their fucking noses and no one had noticed?
Max had been right.
Ryan leaned back on the couch, shifting his gaze to the blank screen of the television. He was exhausted. His brain was almost as tired as his body, yet he still couldn’t sleep.
From the moment he had walked into his parents’ house a short time after leaving Trace’s yesterday, he’d been consumed by the need to come up with something that would lead him to the man who had set his sights on Marissa. Actually, Ryan had initially been more interested in trying to find a way to prove that someone at Sniper 1 was not involved, that they weren’t leading this bastard to her doorstep at every turn, but in the end, it was all for the same reason. Finding who was after her.
That had been yesterday.
Two hours of sleep last night hadn’t been enough to sustain him, but his brain had woken him, unable to shut down. He’d snatched his iPad and started combing the Internet. That’s when he’d stumbled upon the additional article that he was almost certain tied back to Marissa in some way. Only he hadn’t quite connected the two yet. Worse, he still wasn’t convinced that someone at Sniper 1 wasn’t directly involved, and he was even more inclined to believe that Isaac Rhames was the man they needed to sit down with.
Damn it.
Ryan’s cell phone rang and he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment. Except, shit, it was probably Z calling him back at Ryan’s request. Only now, Ryan wasn’t sure he was ready to pull the man into the fray because he was pretty damn sure he knew exactly what shit storm Marissa had brought down on herself. And it was a big one.
“Talk to me,” he grumbled when he finally caved, hitting the talk button and putting the caller on speaker.
“Hey, RT.”
Ryan’s heart rate suddenly sped up as he heard the deep, throaty rumble, but he pretended not to notice. Trying to disguise his body’s untimely response, he answered with a casual, “Thanks for callin’ me.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly callin’ because you asked me to. I need to talk to you. Got a few minutes?” the demanding male voice echoed through the phone’s speaker.
“Sure.”
“Can you meet me?” Z asked.
Ryan closed his eyes again as he inhaled deeply.
Zachariah Tavoularis, probably the most single-minded operator they had employed at Sniper 1, just happened to be the absolute most intense man Ryan had ever laid eyes on. He was the one man Ryan fantasized about these days, and the one man who, without a doubt, he shouldn’t want anything to do with, outside of a business relationship.
Key word was shouldn’t because he damn sure couldn’t convince his body that it didn’t crave what Z had to offer. Until recently, Ryan was pretty damn sure he’d done a good job of hiding his interest. Now … not so much, but only because he was damn tired of playing the game. At thirty-three, Ryan was tired of playing all the games.
It wasn’t a secret that Ryan was gay. Nor was it a secret that Z was. However, there was a significant difference between the two of them when it came to how they handled their relationships. Ryan didn’t have time for casual encounters, but that seemed to be all that Z filled his spare time with. It irked the shit out of Ryan, but he knew he had absolutely no right to care.
“Right now?” Ryan questioned, trying to rein in his thoughts.
“The sooner the better. If you can’t meet me, I’ll come to you,” Z told him, and Ryan’s thoughts immediately detoured right into the gutter.
“I’m at Bryce’s,” he told Z. It wasn’t that he was inviting Z to come over, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to venture out of the house without the risk of killing himself. He was dead on his feet, having been running on nothing but pure adrenaline for something close to forty-six hours, and truthfully, he just wanted to close his eyes. For a solid twelve.
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” Z told him.
Great. Just fucking great. “Then meet me at my place,” Ryan told him. “I’ll head over there now.”
With that, the line disconnected.
Having no idea why he’d put himself in that situation, Ryan dropped the phone onto the cushion beside him and tried to ignore the fact that he was going to be alone with Z in half an hour.
In the meantime, maybe if he mainlined coffee and took a shower, he’d find the energy to deal with whatever Z needed to talk about. And at the same time, maybe he’d be able to conceal his body’s reaction to him. As it was, the mere sound of Z’s voice had left him in need of a shower—a fucking cold one.
Ryan managed to make it to his house. Although the trek had only taken him three minutes, it had seemed like three hours. His eyes felt as though someone had dusted them with sand, his limbs as though they were made of rubber. He was so damn tired but mentally too wired to sleep. He hadn’t even had the energy to take that cold shower.
A knock on his front door signaled Z’s arrival, and instead of forcing his tired ass up off the couch to answer the door like a normal human, he merely hollered, informing Z that the door was open.
From his perch on the couch, he watched Z come inside, his big body filling the entryway as Z’s inquisitive gaze traveled around the room briefly before landing on Ryan. And remaining there.
Heat took the place of the exhaustion, and Ryan tried to act as though his body’s reaction to Z wasn’t abnorma
l. Truth was, these days, any reaction to another man was abnormal. It seemed that Ryan had been interested in Z for longer than he cared to admit. Too bad that was as far as he could take the infatuation. Anything more would be stupid.
“What’s up?” Ryan asked, turning his head and staring up at the ceiling. He was still lying on the couch, unable to muster the energy to sit up.
“You okay?”
“Never fucking better,” Ryan lied.
When Z came to sit on the arm of the sofa near his feet, Ryan was tempted to move but didn’t.
“Something wrong?”
“Don’t know yet,” Z answered.
“Does it have to do with a case?” Now Ryan was curious. Z wasn’t the type to show concern unless there really was a reason to.
“I got a call from Isaac this mornin’.”
Okay, so lying down was no longer an option. Somehow he managed to force his feet to the floor and heft himself to a sitting position. “And?”
“He said somethin’ about needin’ to get away for a while.”
“Shit.” Ryan planted his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. “What’d you tell him?”
“I told him he needed to talk to you.”
Ryan lifted his head and met Z’s hardened stare. “What’d he say to that?”
“Nothin’. Which was why I figured you’d want to know.”
Ryan’s dick twitched behind the zipper of his jeans, simply from looking at Z. It wasn’t a professional reaction by any means, but one he couldn’t prevent no matter how much he wanted to. Considering he didn’t want to…
Pushing to his feet, Ryan paced the living room. “We’ve had our sights on Isaac the last couple of days.”
“I figured as much.”
Ryan’s eyebrow lifted, his curiosity piqued.
“When an office full of gossiping biddies suddenly has nothin’ to talk about, it looks suspicious. I might not be related to Einstein, but I figured it out. Likely Isaac did, too.”
Damn it. And here they’d thought they had the element of surprise on their side.
Wait for Morning (Sniper 1 Security #1) Page 28