Bad Boy's Last Race (17 page)

“That’s good, right?” I say. “That should make it easy to crack.”

“Potentially. It’s still a code, and we have no context for it, no way to say for sure what he’s using it for—oh. Shit.”

I press toward them. She’s flipped to the photograph of the guns and piles of cash taped to the dresser’s back. “That looks a bit more incriminating to me,” Elena says.

“Potentially, yes. But it’s still very circumstantial,” Drazic says.

I sigh. “Not good enough to hold up in court, you mean. Especially for someone like Tyler, who’s got his hooks in goddamned everyone in the entire judicial system . . .”

Drazic rubs at his stubbly chin. “There’s got to be something we can do with it, though. Maybe if we knew someone in law enforcement who could break the code, or who could back us up from the inside. Then it might hold more weight. Coming from a bunch of a nobodies—us—it’s useless, but if someone were able to speak out from the inside . . .”

Cyrus clears his throat. All eyes turn toward him. “Actually,” he says, “I might know just the guy.”

I
arrive
at the garage from meeting with my attorney to find Drazic, Cyrus, Lennox, and Elena huddled around Cyrus’s computer, pointing and talking in hushed tones. Then my heart leaps. Sophie’s with them, too. What is she doing here? “What the hell’s going on?” I ask, approaching them.

Sophie looks at me with haunted eyes. “Jagger.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “It isn’t safe.” So many emotions are warring within me right now. The lawyer, eager though she was, didn’t offer me much in the way of hope. The easy thing is to blame Sophie for my problems. For getting me into this mess. But even if I go to prison, I suspect it would only be a taste of the hell she’s lived in with Tyler.

“I had to. I had to see you,” she says.

I hold my arms open to her, and she nestles inside, trembling.

“I’m so scared,” she murmurs against my chest. “I’m trying so hard to pretend with him, but it’s terrifying.”

“If he finds out you’re gone . . .”

“I’ve only been her maybe thirty minutes—and I’ll leave soon enough. I was careful. I have a plan.” She looks up at me with those deep blue eyes. “But I’ll need everyone’s help.”

I look at the faces of my friends. None of them are smiling. Each looks haunted, from Elena’s dark sad eyes to the painful, knowing set of Lennox’s jaw. He knows exactly what I’m facing, with prison time. He knows that you never truly come back.

I shake my head at Sophie. No. I can’t risk her getting hurt even more in all of this. And I can’t risk hurting the crew. My attorney will do what she can; I can get out of this on my own. I have to.

“I’m sorry, babe. I can’t. I’m toxic now—and I can’t risk letting that spread to you. Or to the rest of you.” I glance back at the crew. “I’m facing a very, very long prison sentence, and I can’t risk any of you getting caught up in whatever story Tyler’s going to sell.”

“Please.” Sophie squeezes my hand. “Let us help.”

I glance toward Drazic. “Help with what, exactly?’

Drazic gestures toward Sophie and me. “I think you two should talk. Privately,” he adds, the faintest hint of a smile in his tone.

Sophie looks back toward the crew. “Don’t you need my help?”

Drazic shakes his head. “Cyrus, I think you can handle it from here, right?”

Cyrus nods. He was sitting so quietly, concentrating so fully on the screen before him, that I nearly forgot he was there. “You got it, boss.” I know full well the look of determination on Cyrus’s face. He’s the sort of guy who latches onto an idea and doesn’t let it go.

So I lead Sophie upstairs to my apartment.

It doesn’t feel the same after Tyler went through it. Everywhere I look, I wonder if Tyler’s been there. Did he rub his nose against the sofa, smelling Sophie’s scent against the fabric? It gives me the fucking creeps to think about.

Sophie slips onto the sofa and curls into a tight ball. I sit down next to her, knees wide, hands clasped between them. “Well?” I ask. “What’s this glorious plan?”

Sophie swallows. “I found something in Tyler’s stuff. Back at the hotel.”

“What kind of something?” I ask.

“Incriminating something. Potentially,” she adds hurriedly, seeing my eyebrows shoot up. “But Cyrus knows a guy who he thinks can help us. Thinks we can use it to catch Tyler in the act.”

“In the act of what?” I ask. “He already framed me. That ship’s fucking sailed, I’m afraid.”

Sophie reaches for my hand. “Well, he had to get the coke from somewhere, didn’t he?”

I tilt my head, considering. I hadn’t even thought about that. I guess I assumed he got it from the DEA, but that, too, seems like an awfully illegal proposition for him. If he was buying five kilos of cocaine—that we know about—from a dealer, if he had those sorts of contacts . . .

“What exactly did you find?” I ask.

“Money. Lots of it,” she says. “Guns. Not his agency-issued sidearm, either. And then a notebook of some kind. Like a transaction record.”

I stretch my legs in front of me. “Sounds like a whole lot of trouble,” I say. “But it also sounds like what my lawyer called . . . what was the phrase? Oh, yeah. ‘Highly circumstantial and inadmissible in a court of law.’” I wince. “That’s what she called my claims about Tyler’s beef with me over you.”

“But this goes beyond what he’s done to you. Who knows who else he’s framed? What other bullshit like this he’s pulled? It’s bigger than just one petty revenge scheme. I remember it well—the way he’d disappear sometimes in the middle of the night, and when he came back, he’d obviously showered. He’d never bring back the same clothes he’d left in. I thought at the time he was cheating on me—but now I wonder if it’s something else.”

“Something else like what?” I frown.

Sophie ticks off the possibilities on her finger. “He could be mixed up with the Zetas, for instance,” Sophie says. “They’re in Ridgecrest and down at the university both, I know that much. Cutting deals left and right, making sure his friends get let off easy while his enemies get locked up for a long, long time.”

I shake my head. I want desperately for her to be right, I feel that same burn in my chest that I imagine she feels, but it seems too optimistic. “Sounds like wishful thinking to me, Soph.”

“You don’t know what I’ve seen.” Her voice wavers; her eyes are watery.

It kills me to see her look this way. I wish I could erase her pain, stop those tears. I sling my arm around her and pull her into an embrace. “C’mon, babe. What’s going on? You’re safe now. I won’t let him hurt you.”

She shakes her head. “I was like a prisoner in his house. And I don’t think it was just his paranoia. He always wanted to know where I’d gone, who I was talking to, what I saw . . . I thought it was just him being a control freak, you know? And I think that was part of it, for sure.” Sophie swallows, her face going tight. “He wanted to control my life. But I also sensed some kind of panic in him. Like he—like he was almost expecting something to happen. Someone to be following me.”

“Wait a minute. Let’s think this through.” I tap a finger against my chin. “Maybe he was scared someone would find out he was a dirty cop,” I say. “And that they’d make you a prime target.”

“You’re right.” Sophie nods against my shoulder. “It makes a lot more sense.”

I ease out of the embrace and grip her by her shoulders. Look into her eyes—really seeing her, really drinking her in now. Trying to take away her pain. “Sophie . . . If this is true, then you’re in even more danger than I thought. I can’t put you through that. You have to stay safe. That’s the most important thing to me.”

“Please.” Her eyes are glistening. “I want to help you. And I want to stop Tyler. Let me do this. I promise you, I can.”

“Sophie . . .”

“I love you so much, Jagger.” She smiles. “Let me help.”

I cup her cheeks, unable to stop myself from grinning, too. “I love you, too. I hope you see that by now.”

“I do. And I hope you know by now—I always fight for what’s mine.”

I laugh, low and throaty. “Oh, I know you do.”

The tension eases between us. We have a plan, and we’re together. It feels me with warmth. With appreciation for this incredible goddess before me. I cup her cheek and tip my mouth down.

Sophie’s mouth tilts up toward mine. She kisses me like sunshine, the first fucking ray I’ve had in the past several shitty days. I part her lips with my tongue, tasting every inch of her, trying to memorize her taste and her scent and that soft gasp she makes when she’s just starting to get turned on.

We stand up, and I back her against the wall between the kitchen and the living room and press the length of my body against hers. God, I’ve missed her so much, needed her, been dying to feel her pressed against me . . . I think we both need this release. She arches her back into me, and my cock swells, straining against my jeans already. Easy, boy. I tease back the neck of Sophie’s dress and kiss the hollow of her collarbone, kiss my way down her chest, swirl my mouth against her breast through the fabric of her bra.

Sophie’s hands find the buckle of my jeans and she works the fly open. She seizes my shaft, decisive, possessive. It gets me hard all over again. I nip at her earlobe and rest my forehead against the wall beside her.

“Careful, sneaky girl,” I warn her, my voice low and gruff. “If you don’t stop teasing me, I’m going to have to fuck you right here against the wall.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” she murmurs.

I groan again, my cock flexing in her hands. And then I seize her by the ass and hoist her up around my waist.

Sophie cries out as I back her into the wall. I’m supporting her around me by the backs of her thighs, and she hooks her legs behind her at the small of my back. My jeans slip down to around my knees. I reach beneath her and shove her flimsy panties aside. Forceful. Determined. I won’t let anything stop us now.

“Fuck me,” she begs.

I bury myself in her hot, tight pussy, and the force of the hit rattles the wall.

Sophie’s mouth is so ripe and red as I thrust inside of her. I love the way it rounds, filthy and innocent all at once, as the friction between us drives her wild. I’m on the verge of exploding, so I focus on her face, on the ecstatic little cries she makes, on the thumping of the wall behind her. Pressure is building up in me, and I’m like a pipe about to burst.

Fortunately, she does it first. Screaming my name. Her voice shredded and spent with lust. Holy fuck, does it turn me on.

And then I’m lost, too. I slam my body against her and bite at her shoulder as my hips buck wildly against her.
Fuck.

If I fight for nothing else, I have to fight for this. This hot, sexy, clever, maddening woman and her pussy with an iron grip. Her quick mind and her puffy lips and her sly grin. I need Sophie.

I can’t leave her to the wolves like Tyler Brennan.

She’s mine.

I ease out of her, both of us reluctant to do so, and pepper kisses against her cheeks and lips. She smiles wearily into my kisses. “I love you, Jagger.”

“I love you, too.” I head toward the bathroom and turn on the shower head. “Care to join me?”

Sophie glances toward the clock in the kitchen. “Oh, shit. No. I have to go. Shit.” She shoves her dress back down over her thighs. “I have to run by the grocery store and get back and clean up and start cooking and—fuck.”

“Hey. Hey. It’s going to be okay.” I hold her by the shoulders and kiss her forehead. “You’ve made it this far. We’re almost there.”

“Yeah.” She smiles gently and looks up at me. “We’re going to stop him. I swear to you.”

“Be safe.”

She kisses me one last time, and then she’s gone.

I hope it isn’t for good.

T
yler is
suspicious about the amount of time I’d spent at the grocery store, judging by how long he saw me missing from the hotel on his webcam, but by the time he gets a bowl full of Bolognese in his belly, he’s quickly forgotten about it. “God damn, I’ve missed that.” He leers at me across the dinner table, the shoddy extended stay apartment lighting turning his expression into something garish and shadowy. “I’ve missed
you
, babe. It’s so fucking good to have you back where you belong.”

I manage a weak smile and toast his glass of wine. My appetite’s completely gone and everything tastes like ash in my mouth, but I do my best to play the meek girlfriend. I can’t wait to be free of him once more.

After I clean up dishes, I persuade him to watch some television with me on the couch, and make a show of quickly falling asleep—eyelids sagging, sinking into deep breathing. I really am exhausted, but I’m far too on edge to sleep around him; every nerve ending in my body is on high alert. I didn’t know what I’ll do if he tries to coax me into bed with him. I just want him to leave me alone.

“Soph? Soph, baby, you awake?” I squeeze my eyes shut and regulate my breathing until finally he stops trying to rouse me and leaves to collapse into bed himself.

At two a.m., he comes back into the living room. Turns the webcam around the other way, so it’s pointed at the wall. And then vanishes into the night.

A little after four a.m., he returns, and goes back to bed.

Where had he gone? Was Cyrus’s contact able to watch him, like Cyrus said he’d try to do? I still can’t fall asleep. By the time sunrise begins to stream in through the narrow blinds, I’m exhausted, my eyes scratchy and dry, but I have work to do. There’s so much more to do.

* * *

F
ortunately
, today I have a much better excuse that allows me to leave the apartment: the books I requested through inter-library loan have arrived at Ridgecrest Central Library. Tyler drops me off on his way to work, and I make my way nervously through the stacks. I spot Cyrus and another man lurking near the research section, like we agreed, and Cyrus makes brief eye contact with me.

My heart sinks a little to see Jagger isn’t with them, even though I know it’s safer this way. I want to rush over and hug Cyrus. Feel grounded in the people who take care of me, after the sleepless night I had. But I’m too paranoid, and fortunately, it looks like they are, too.

I fetch my stack of books from the librarian. “Are there reading rooms?” I ask.

“Sure thing, hon. Second floor.”

“Perfect. Thanks so much.” I haul the books up to the second floor and find a reading room out of the way of the main library. No cameras pointed its way, at least that I can tell.

I slip inside one of the private reading rooms, leaving the door cracked, and wait.

Ten or so minutes later, Cyrus arrives, followed by his friend. The friend is tall and muscular, though in a leaner way than stocky Cyrus. His dark brown hair is kept trim, and forms a chinstrap beard that frames his face. “Brett,” he says, extending his hand to me. “I’ll do what I can to help, Sophie.”

“Brett.” I shake hands with him, then sink into the chair. Now that I finally feel safe, I’m utterly wrung out with weariness. “I’m happy to have yours.”

“You did the right thing, bringing this to us,” Brett says. “Both of you did,” he adds, with a glance toward Cyrus. “I’ve been inside the Alonzo gang for a few months now, and I could tell they were getting information from a crooked fed somewhere. They were avoiding too many raids and cockblocking too many of my efforts to set them up for a fall. I didn’t know who it was, of course, but all I could do was be grateful that my cover hadn’t yet been blown.”

“Christ. That sounds rough. Two months undercover? That must be terrifying.” I haven’t been undercover for even a week, and I’m already scared out of my mind.

“You get used to it,” Brett says with a shrug.

Cyrus clears his throat. “I’ve been working with Brett for a while, but, uh, it isn’t exactly public knowledge with the rest of the crew.”

I raise one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“
If
the crew were involved in anything more than illegal street racing, which they
aren’t
, Brett has no business asking me about it. It’s not part of our deal.” Cyrus looks nervous all the same, but he speaks with conviction. “What is part of our deal is anything else I pick up on while we’re at races. Gang activity, deals that might be going down, you know the kind.”

I blink, surprised. “How long have you two been working together like this?” I ask. I don’t much like the idea of keeping secrets from the rest of Jagger’s crew, but I figure it’s Cyrus’s burden to bear more than mine.

Cyrus winces and looks down. “A few years.”

“Cyrus helped provide me with information crucial to dismantling the McManus family’s criminal enterprise,” Brett says. “You might’ve read about it in the papers.”

I shake my head. “I’ve kind of been living in my own private hell with Agent Brennan for the past few years.”

“Right. Understandable.” Brett smiles sadly, and it warms me to him somewhat. “Well, I’m prepared to do anything I can to help you break out of that. And if Tyler’s the man supplying the Alonzos with intel like I suspect he is, then he’s going to go away for a very long time.”

Tyler, locked up. Possibly for the rest of his life. The very thought is so tantalizing, so wonderfully seductive, that I want to weep. How long have I dreamed of this moment? Of Tyler finally getting what he’s due. Then he can never hurt me—or anyone else—ever again.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I’d like that very much.”

Brett grins. “I’ll see what I can do. But first, I’m going to need your help for just a little bit longer.”

“Of course,” I say. “Anything.”

Cyrus and Brett exchange a look, neither of them seeming particularly pleased about whatever’s coming next. Brett straightens his shoulders. “Well, there are two ways we can do this,” he finally says.

I feel my stomach turn, but I nod. “I’m ready.”

“The first way is that I can take this information from the photographs you got and use it to start collecting and correlating information I get from inside the Alonzos.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“It means I break the code Tyler’s using. I can compare it against their own internal logs and use that to figure out just what he’s concealing. Then maybe over time, I can work with you to keep further tabs on what he adds to the ledger. If you stick with me, we can build up a case of correlation and causation—one that I can send to my superiors, and use to take Tyler down.”

I sink down into the study chair with a groan. “That sounds like the
slow
way.”

“It is,” Brett says. “But also the safest. It allows me to be really, really certain about what we’ve got here and gives me the time I’d need to build an iron-clad case.”

Cyrus looks at me. “But it means Sophie has to live with that monster for who knows how long.”

“And it means we’ll probably be too late to help Jagger.” I bite my lower lip.

Brett nods again. “Most likely, yes. It could be used to exonerate him, but . . .”

“No.” I shake my head, unable to stop. “No. I can’t wait that long. I can’t do that to him.” And I can’t be around Tyler for a day longer than I absolutely have to. The very thought makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. “What’s the other option, then?”

Brett looks down at his hands and shifts his posture. “Well . . .” His voice wavers. “It’s going to be a hell of a lot trickier to pull off. And you’ll have to play a much bigger role.”

I’m trembling. I don’t realize it until Cyrus reaches out a hand to steady me.

“You can do this,” Cyrus whispers. “I’ve seen the way Jagger looks at you—like you’re the strongest woman in the universe.”

“I’m really not.”

Cyrus smiles at me. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That boy adores you. It takes a really special woman indeed to tame Jagger, Sophie. Trust me. I know you’re capable.”

I smile up at him, grateful. “I’ll give it a try.”

Brett clears his throat. “If we want this to work . . . we’re going to need to put your acting to the test.”

I’ve played a role with Tyler for years. The devoted girlfriend, the prisoner, the model citizen. I did everything he asked, bent over backward to convince him I was following his increasingly stringent rules to the letter.

I can play it one last time.

“Let’s do it, then.”