Unfiltered & Uncensored

by Payge Galvin

  “Oh really?” Claire gave him her best throaty laugh, even as her knee got in position to go for his balls and her hand inched toward a concealed gun.

  “I think you’ll find this job leaves plenty of time for ... extracurricular activities.” His hold on her hair tightened, sending pressure through her scalp, and he pulled her closer still. Claire smiled. He was about five seconds from her taking him down, right here, right now. He just didn’t know it yet.

  That was when someone from the trees shouted, “Oh, fuck no!” and ran right at them.

  Chapter 16

  Max

  As he shouted from the mesquites, Max realized he had no clue what he planned to do next. He only knew that no way was he letting that sleazeball paw at Claire, no matter what business they had together, no matter what shit Claire was using. He ran full speed at Jason, knowing that he would do whatever he could to protect Claire.

  Jason looked up at Max, his gaze disbelieving. “You? What the—”

  Before Jason could finish that thought Claire threw Jason to the ground, got a knee to his groin, drew a gun from somewhere beneath her tight-fitting clothing, and aimed it right at the weasel’s chest. “This ends now,” she said.

  “Whoa,” Max said. Apparently Claire didn’t need rescuing after all. “That was awesome,” he whispered.

  “Shut up,” Claire told him. “Before you fuck anything else up.”

  “You’re worried I’ll fuck things up?” Max said. Admiration gave way to anger. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

  “I said, shut up.” Claire kept her steely glare and her gun both on Jason as she spoke. “You,” she told the dealer. “Hands behind your head. Now.”

  Jason’s hands moved behind his head as he got slowly to his feet. But then he looked past Max and Claire, and a small, bitter smile crossed his weasely face. “And now,” he said, with a dark laugh. “We’re all screwed.”

  Three men in suits emerged from the other side of the parking lot and made their way toward the open desert.

  It went without saying that they were armed, too.

  “Put down the gun,” the tallest one told Claire. “Before we have to start putting holes in that pretty face.”

  Claire hesitated, then glanced at Max and dropped it. Like it was Max, not herself, she was protecting. Fuck.

  Claire was right. He’d screwed this one up but good. A few failed classes and Incompletes paled in comparison.

  “Mr. Chamberlain conveniently already has his hands up,” the tall suit said in a gravelly voice. “I think it’d be in your best interests if the rest of you followed his good example.”

  Max lifted his hands above his head, just like in a goddamn movie. Claire moved her hands more slowly as she eyed them. Max took in what she saw: three goons, three guns. Just enough to fix one weapon on each of them.

  One of the other men pocketed Claire’s gun, keeping his own gun fixed on Jason all the while. The tall goon kept his gun on Claire, while the last one focused on Max. Max stood frozen beneath the barrel of that weapon, knowing he needed to do something but having no idea what. It wasn’t like he had experience with this sort of thing.

  Claire, though, clearly did have experience with it. She was calm and collected as she stood before the tall man’s gun, calm and collected and ... waiting. She’d done this before.

  How could she have ever done this before without Max knowing? Who—or what—was she?

  “Now then,” the tall man said, his gaze never leaving Claire. “Mr. Chamberlain here owes me a substantial sum of money, and you all look like reasonable people. Perhaps one of you would like to tell me where it is?”

  Jason spat. “Why don’t you ask him?” His own gaze flickered to Max, as if the gun focused on him were a small concern.

  “What?” Claire’s tone was disbelieving, but for the first time, her perfect composure slipped. “Believe me, Max doesn’t know anything about this.” Yet there was something in her face. An unspoken question: do you?

  There was no answer to that question that wouldn’t get them all in a shitload of trouble right now. “Of course not!” Max said. He’d have to tell Claire the truth later, but for now, that seemed the only answer that wouldn’t get them shot.

  Jason laughed. “Your lover here was at the Cave the night it all went down, sweetheart. He wasn’t the only one. Just the only one stupid enough to make himself easy to find.”

  “Yeah, right,” Claire said, still sounding disbelieving. Trying to protect him, Max realized. But her lower lip twitched, and he knew she was worried.

  Jason kept laughing, laughing and laughing like a madman. Max had to do something, or they were all screwed.

  “Okay, sure, so, I may have been there that night,” Max said slowly, figuring out what to say as he said it. “I’m a journalist. It’s my job to investigate suspicious activities. Like Douglas Coughlan’s death.” Max kept looking at his goon, but out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Claire’s eyes go wide. She knew who Douglas Coughlan was, too.

  Max kept talking. He was shit with a gun, but he could talk. “Did you know,” he said lightly to the goon, “that your friend Jason here was perfectly willing to poison one of your dealers to get his own grubby hands on that cash?”

  Jason’s laughter cut off abruptly. “That’s bullshit,” he said.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Max pulled on an easy smile like his life depended on it, which for once it undeniably did. “I’d say he looks just a little bit guilty, wouldn’t you? Nothing that would hold up in a court of law or anything, but surely you don’t hold your men to that high a standard of proof.”

  The tall goon had turned to Max now, leaving no one focused on Claire. He saw Claire’s slight nod, and knew she was aware of that. If he couldn’t get himself out of this, maybe he could at least save her.

  “Sounds to me like you all know too much,” the tall goon growled.

  “Oh, I know all sorts of things!” Max said brightly. “I know all about the cyanide Jason put in Douglas Coughlan’s drink, for one thing. I can show you the chemical analysis, if you’re interested. What do you say? It cost me a fair bit, that analysis, but I’d give it to you fine gentlemen for free.” A manic edge crept into Max’s voice, and he forced it down. Keep talking. Just keep talking. “What do you say we take a trip back to my apartment and I show you? Jason here already knows the way.” Max turned his smile up full force. Come on Claire, he thought. Run the hell away from here.

  As if reading his thoughts, Claire went from stillness to motion in an instant.

  A shot rang through the night, and Max’s goon crumpled to the ground.

  Claire hadn’t been running after all. She’d been drawing a second concealed weapon from her clothes. Before Max could even catch her breath, she’d shot Jason’s goon, too. The second goon only had time for a single, strangled, “Fuck!” before he fell still.

  Max’s goon had stopped moving where he lay at Max’s feet, too, still clutching his weapon. Max reached down to grab it from his dead fingers as Claire turned to the final goon, the tall one.

  The tall goon turned to her in the same instant. They stood there, facing each other, weapons drawn. Jason took in the scene around them, and then he turned and booked it out of there as fast as his weasely legs would take him.

  That left no one paying any attention to Max. He looked at the gun in his hand. He had no fucking clue how to shoot it.

  Oh hell. Max pocketed the gun and ran at the guy from the side, full force, knocking him to the ground. He fell on top of the man with an ungraceful ooof, and the goon’s gun flew from his grasp.

  Claire was there in an instant, her own gun pressed to the man’s temple. “It’s over,” she said.

  That was when the street filled with the sound of sirens and a half dozen uniformed officers ran toward them.

  Max looked at the dead bodies on the ground. This didn’t look good.

  One of the policemen began cuffing the tall goon while a couple
others moved closer to Max.

  “Officer Michaels,” the man with the cuffs said to Claire. “I take it everything is under control?”

  Officer Michaels? Max stared at Claire. At the edge of the lot, he saw another officer cuffing Jason. “I ... I thought you had a desk job,” he stammered, feeling like a fool. Was this the secret she’d been keeping? Why would she want to keep it a secret? Well, she had to keep it secret from guys like Jason, but from Max?

  Claire, who never looked ashamed, looked that way now as she glanced at her feet. “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Sorry?” Max shook his head, because however else he felt, it didn’t change the most important thing. “Claire, that was amazing.” How could she not want to share her awesomeness with him?

  Claire looked back up, as if startled, and then a slow smile crossed her face. “Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

  “You,” Max said. “You are amazing.” He wanted nothing so much as to grab her tight and close in his arms, right here, right now, and to hell with whether half the Rio Verde police force saw. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t sure whether he got to do that anymore. He’d been keeping secrets, too, after all. He remembered disbelief in Claire’s voice, the worry on her face, when Jason had told her how much Max knew.

  But she was alive, and he was alive, too. It was a start.

  “Sorry we took so long to get here,” the officer who’d cuffed the goon was saying.

  “That’s okay.” Claire turned to look at Max, and her slow, considering look turned into a bright smile, the sort of smile Max hadn’t seen from her in far too long. Her gaze remained firmly on Max as she said, “I had backup.”

  Chapter 17

  Max

  Claire drove Max to the station in her car—an undercover squad car, so no flashing lights. “Why didn’t you just tell me that you had this awesome not-at-all-desk-job?” Max asked as she drove. “I mean, I know undercover cops are, well, undercover, and you can’t share specific details of your cases, but still ...”

  Claire didn’t look at him. “Not every guy I’ve dated thought it was awesome,” she said softly.

  “Yeah, well, some guys are assholes,” Max said. “This isn’t news.”

  Claire shrugged uneasily as she pulled into the station. “Not every guy wants a girlfriend as strong as they are.”

  “But I’m not ...” Max began.

  “I know.” Claire put the car into park. “You’re not most guys. But I didn’t know that when we first met, and then it seemed too late, you know?” She traced a finger over his lips, and it was all Max could do not to pull her into his arms right there, right then. He pushed brief thoughts of the appropriateness of squad car sex aside. It wasn’t like he knew whether they were going to be able to work this out, even now.

  As if reading the thought, Claire’s expression grew troubled. She looked at him through storm-cloud dark eyes. “There’s no time now,” she said. “They expect us inside. But whatever bullshit story you’re planning to tell, Max just remember I had a wire on. So it’d better be good.”

  “How did you ...” Max shook his head. Of course Claire knew he was still hiding things, that there was more to this story than he’d told Jason and the Suits. No one knew Max the way Claire did, but she’d just admitted she was going to cover for him anyway. “I’m not going to lie about anything that matters,” Max told her, adding, “You could just let me hang in there. Tell them you know it’s a bullshit story. Why aren’t you?”

  A smile pushed through the clouds then. “Because I trust you,” Claire said.

  “That ... just might be the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Max admitted.

  Claire pulled him into a quick hug, and it was all Max could do to let go when she did. “I’ll tell you everything later,” he promised.

  Claire nodded. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  They walked into the station in silence, where Claire left Max with a uniformed policeman who introduced himself as Officer Smith.

  “Seriously?” Max said.

  “Seriously,” the man said without cracking a smile, and then he launched into his questions. It took some work for Max to tell the officer all he knew while leaving out the money, the burned body, and the other eleven people at the coffee shop, but Max hadn’t spent the summer writing stories for nothing. Smith spent a long time grilling Max, but Max’s answers were consistent, and eventually the officer said that while he’d probably call with followup questions, for now Max was free to go.

  And that, it seemed, was that.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Max said as he stood.

  “Sure,” Smith answered, amiably enough. “Won’t know whether I can answer it until you do, of course.”

  “Jason Chamberlain. He’s going to be locked up now, right?” Max needed to know if this thing was actually over.

  “If we have any say in the matter, you’d better believe he will, and his boss with him. But you know, it all comes down to the jury. You’ll likely be called back for the trial, too.”

  Max would have to deal with that when the time came.

  “Can I ask you a question, too?” Smith said. “Off the books?”

  “Sure.” Max didn’t bother telling him that there wasn’t actually anything legally binding about saying something off the books. Surely the man already knew that.

  “Are you planning to stomp Officer Michaels’ heart into the dust, or are you actually worthy of her?”

  “I—” Max stammered. “I’m going to do my best,” he said earnestly. Damn right he was.

  “Because if you hurt her,” Smith went on, “there’ll be hell to pay.”

  Max pondered the hazards of having protective co-workers when you were a cop before saying, “I think Claire can take care of herself.”

  “That’s what I meant.” Officer Smith surprised Max by laughing then. “What, did you think I was going to come after you? Claire’s got that shit covered—she fights her own battles. Was just making sure you knew that.” The officer shook his head. “Now get the hell out of here.”

  Max proceeded to do just that.

  ‡

  The sun was already rising, but Claire said she had a couple hours of paperwork before she could file her report. She said Max didn’t have to wait for her, but he did.

  They drove home in silence, while the desert heat settled heavy into the air, with a side of humidity that said there’d be thunderstorms soon. Claire parked in Max’s complex but left the engine running.

  “Can I come in?” she said, sounding oddly shy.

  “Since when do you ask?” Max said. He meant it as a joke, but Claire looked stung, and he instantly regretted it. If it were up to him, Claire would never have to ask to come in, because his home would be her home, too.

  In a few more minutes he would know if there was any chance in the world left of that. Max gently reached over and turned off the ignition. “Please,” he said, more quietly.

  They silently climbed the stairs together, and if Claire had a backup to her backup key, she didn’t use it. They sat on the couch together, too, but Max felt an awkward distance growing between them as they did, and he didn’t know how to bridge it.

  But he was sure as hell going to try. “What Jason said about me being at The Coffee Cave,” he began, suddenly not feeling all that good with words after all. “It—I know it didn’t sound good. It wasn’t good. But it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, either, I swear. Even the video ...”

  “About that video ...” Claire buried her head in her hands. “I had no right to record you without telling you first, no matter how much I was going to miss you. And then I had no right to change the locks on the doors when I saw Chamberlain inside, not without at least asking first. I was worried for you, but—I was an idiot, too. There’s no excuse for what I did.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Max snapped. “I’m not just some useless asshole with a good smile, you know.”

 
; “Of course I know!” Claire snapped back, lifting her head to glare at him. “How can you even imagine I think you’re useless?”

  “Well, given the way you walked out ...” This wasn’t how Max wanted this discussion to go.

  “God, Max.” Claire drew a deep breath, as if to steady herself. “Listen, the way you ran out there tonight, that was stupid.” She held up a hand before Max could interrupt her. “But most guys would have been a hell of a lot stupider—and a hell of a lot less useful because of it. Most guys would have tried to shoot that damn gun whether they knew how to or not, instead of thinking things through, and when they did, then all hell would have broken loose. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

  “Since we’ve been dating?” Max asked.

  “Yeah,” Claire admitted. “I was afraid ... lots of guys don’t like my being able to take care of myself. They want to step in and protect me. That’s what you were trying to do tonight, wasn’t it? You were just smarter about it, except for the part where you weren’t.”

  “Okay, yes, I was stupid running out there.” Max heard the heat rising in his voice. “But how the hell was I supposed to know you had everything under control if I thought you had a fucking desk job?”

  Claire sighed, like she was deflating. “So now you know.”

  “Now I know,” Max agreed. “And okay, maybe I don’t have the mad combat skills to go in guns blazing at your side, but I could at least listen when you have a rough night. Did you ever think of that? Just because I can’t literally have your back doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you. It doesn’t mean I’m useless. You say you trust me, and yet ...” His words trailed off.

  “I ...” Claire’s shoulders sagged. “I do trust you, but ... Max, how did you get mixed up with Chamberlain?” When Max tensed, she pressed on, “I’m not going to turn you in, whatever it is. But I need to know. You need to start trusting me, too.”