Brutal (28 page)

“I get it,” I say. “I won’t interfere, but she’s terrified of cops, so go easy on her. If she says no, it’s no, yeah?”

“I would never hurt her,” he says, offended.

“I believe you,” I say. “Now you just have to convince her.”

“Speaking of, I have to bail. She gets off work in an hour, and I need coffee,” he says, and approaches me, opens his arms. “May I?”

I nod, and he gives me a great big bear hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Don’t put your mouth on her again,” growls Rogan.

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” he says.

“Night, Rafe,” I say.

“Night, Venessa,” he says. “Rogan.”

“Later,” says Rogan. On the way, I hear Rafe give a “Fuckin’ Kharma, who knew?” in passing, and that made me smile, too.

Turning to me, he looks so happy, if I was a crier I’d be a mess right now.

“Tired?” I ask.

“I could sleep.”

“Can I talk to you about something first?”

“All ears,” he says pulling me to him.

So that’s what I do. I look him in his eyes, telling him everything. The text, the club, Max, dinner with Tony, what he said, the kiss on the forehead, how sorry I was, how I missed him; everything. I waited for him to tweak out, but he shocked me when he didn’t. He just held me tighter, thanked me for telling him, told me he trusted me, and how much he loved me.

I slept that night. I slept deep.

L
ast night was a fucking revelation for all of us. She isn’t the only one with issues. She may not handle them like Rafe and I do, but despite those issues, she handles her shit. Having my only friend and partner be at odds with my woman was tough, not gonna lie. Thank fuck it didn’t last long. These are the only two people on this fucking planet I give a true fuck about. Rafe got a glimpse into her life, now he can really see her. She isn’t a mean person. None of us are. We’ve all just been bent over by life one too many times. Rafe has her back and that pleases me.

I’m content for the first time in my life, I feel like I finally have a family. I’ll protect that family with everything I’ve got. I need to check in with the Captain, and let him know this is more than we had thought. If the perp is targeting Venessa, we have to proceed with caution. No way will any of us put her life at risk. The big problem, though, is Venessa herself. I don’t believe for one second she won’t hesitate to sacrifice herself, which scares the shit out of me.

I haven’t known her long but this is the first night I’ve seen her really sleep. She hasn’t even moved. I grab a shower, start the pot, then sit in the living room to call the Captain. Clearing the air last night was huge, so it’s a bonus I don’t feel the need to hide the call.

“Rogan,” he says. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

“Here’s what we know,” I say, describing the situation. Per Venessa’s request, I leave Tony out of it for now. She’s still convinced he’s a player, so I agree we need to let him continue without pressure from the DPD.

“I don’t like this,” he says. “Why target her specifically?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“How’s she taking it?”

“She’s out for blood, Cap,” I say. “I don’t blame her.”

“No word on the any of the girls?”

“Nothing yet,” I say. “I checked the coroner's files and no missing women have come through.”

“Don’t leave her side, Rogan,” he says. “Whoever this is knows what he’s doing, and knows her.”

“So do we, Cap,” I say. “She’s not a helpless female, she was raised well.”

“Good morning,” she says, handing me a cup. “Is that the Cap?” I nod. “Put him on speaker, yeah?”

“Captain, you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Cap,” she says. “How you been?”

“Worried, baby girl,” he says. “Just worried.”

“I’ve been thinking,” she says. “This person knows me.”

“Keep going,” I encourage.

“I feel someone watching me,” she says. “I’ve felt it for a while now, but until recently it didn’t bother me until I was around Macy, which was why I backed off from being out in public with her. The drug she’s working on is supposed to work as a sedative for cancer patients, to help them handle their treatments. It also has the ability to lessen the memories the patient retains from the harsher side of treatment. Mind altering abilities, I guess, you’d have to ask her about that. Also, if the patient is terminal, it can be used to help them transition from life to death without pain, and with little memory of the disease. Allowing them to die… happy. The point is, I started using it for several reasons. It acts instantly, and I mean the second it’s injected. I’d report to Macy, and she’s been able to adjust it accordingly. That’s the reason why the perps don’t actually remember me. They remember a woman, just nothing about me. They remember mostly everything, prior to being injected.”

“So you think this is about getting the drug, then?” asks the Captain.

“Yes and no,” she explains. “I think the drug is the motivator. It doesn’t matter who you inject, Captain, that person is totally helpless for at least two hours. This is strong stuff. Macy and I have adjusted the doses so no one would suffer long term effects, but the girl I found was seriously overdosed. The bigger picture is using it to subdue the girls for shipping, I think. But the amount used on her would have incapacitated six women, so the asshole doing the dosing is an amateur, which leads me to believe these girls may not be alive.”

“How did they get it?” I ask.

“That, I’m not sure of yet,” she says. “What I am sure of, is that this person doesn’t like me. Since my arrest, the situation has escalated, and so has the feeling of being followed. Whoever is behind this has known about me for some time, and knows about my relationship to you Captain, I also think he knows who Rogan is. I believe this person doesn’t like women. Especially a woman like me. He likes submissive women, not someone like me, who pretty much does whatever she wants. What do you think?”

“I think you should have finished school and become a detective like you intended,” says the Captain.

“You wanted to be a detective?” I ask.

“At one time yeah.”

“You’d kick ass”

“Just like her father,” says the Captain.

“Thanks,” she says. “This person knows me, I’m sure of it. So I need to draw him out.”

“That’s dangerous, baby girl.”

“That’s suicide,” I growl.

“It’s necessary,” she says, not fazed. “If this person has access to the drug, then I think he’ll use it to grab me. The good news is, Macy designed another drug to counteract it. I have a bit of it here, carry it with me just in case I ever needed it, or if the perp went into cardiac arrest or something. Point is, he’s going to grab me eventually. He won’t approach me without it. He’s afraid of me, I think. We can’t afford for him not to.”

“Have you given any more thought to my offer?” asks the Captain.

“I’m still kicking it around,” she says. “My plate's been kind of full, Cap. Right now? I just don’t know.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “Listen, you watch your back, and both of you keep me posted. I want to hear from you both tomorrow.”

I disconnect with the Captain, and Venessa calls Macy while I check the database for any new missing persons. I don’t expect to find anything, because the girls weren’t likely to be missed. Dammit, I need something here, but I’m coming up with jack shit. I get a text from Rafe, letting me know he’s hungry. Like that’s my problem? Venessa comes back into the kitchen, and she’s smirking.

“Whatcha doing?” she asks, acting innocent.

“Shit.”

“Hungry?” she asks me, sitting on my lap.

“I could eat.”

“Let’s meet Rafe for lunch over at Batch Brewing Company,” she says. “I know a guy there.”

“How do you know him?”

“We go way back,” she says. “I knew him from school, he’s good people, and I need to shake up my routine a bit.”

“I’ll get a hold of Rafe.”

“Can I drive your truck?”

“No.”

“Fine,” she says, pouting. “We can take my bike, then, and you can ride bitch.”

“You have a bike?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“No.”

“Do you?”

“Of course,” I say. “You can ride bitch on mine.”

“You take all the fun out of you being my bitch.”

“I’m already your bitch,” I say. “And if you tell Rafe I said that, I’ll have to spank you.”

“Deal,” she says. “I’ll follow you to your place, yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“What?” Playing innocent again “I’m getting ready.”

“You preparing for war or something?” I ask watching her strap on her 9mm, tazer, knife and tactical pen. “You don’t have a badge, Angel, you ain’t getting in a bar with all that gear.”

“I’m not worried about it. I’m starving! Ready?”

“Woman,” I say. “Try to keep up.”

We make it to my place in one piece, although watching my woman ride was enough to age me another twenty years. She even rides with purpose. She’s fucking unbelievable. Her bike is a classic, which we’ll need to talk about. It’s nearly impossible to get your hands on a Buell RR1000. We’ve got ten minutes before meeting Rafe. I open my garage while she dismounts, and she practically runs into my garage to see my bike.

“Holy shit!” she says, touching my bike with affection. “She’s beautiful!”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“Men are never built like this.”

I laugh. “True.”

“What’s her name?”

“I never named her.”

“We need to think of something,” she declares.

“It’s just a Harley. That,” I say, pointing, “is a fucking classic bike, however, and I want to know how you got it.”

“It was my dad's,” she murmurs. “He taught me to ride it when I was fifteen. It’s the only thing I kept.”

“Smart,” I say. “What did you name her?”

“I didn’t.” She points to the fender. “My dad called her his ‘lady’ as a joke, saying it’s the only other woman my mom approved of, so I never changed it.”

“I would have liked your dad.”

“Naw, you would have loved him,” she says, hugging me.

“Rafe’s going to flip when he sees her, you know that, right?”

“I’ll only rub his nose in it a little bit,” she giggles. “Let’s go. I’ll follow you.”

“You’ll ride next to me,” I say, kissing her hard.

We ride side by side, pushing each other, and our bikes. I’ll never admit it, but her bike would blow mine away, and I could tell she was taking it easy on me. We get there in record time despite the brick on Michigan Avenue, and Rafe is in the lot, smiling like a fool.

If he wasn’t my partner, and not into Macy, the way he looks at her would force me to gut him.

R
iding next to Rogan was orgasmic. There’s not any other way to explain it. Seeing him handle that bike was seriously hot. Where mine is smaller and built for speed, his is big and built for stamina, kinda like the man himself. I’m so fucking lucky. Rafe is grinning like an idiot, and I can see him jonesing to touch my bike. As much as I’ve come to respect him, I’m not sure we’re that close yet.

I’m more into watching him get off his bike and stomp over to me. Yes, he stomps. He isn’t silent about much of anything, far as I can tell. He’s big and solid, to Rafe’s leaner build, although to say Rafe is a slouch would be bullshit. He is built from head to toe, just not built solid like a mack truck, like Rogan.

“You surprise me, yet again,” Rafe says smiling at me.

“I like keeping you on your toes.”

“That’s a serious piece of machinery,” he says. “That’s a bad ass track bike woman.”

“Yeah,” I say. “She’s a lot of fun on the track.”

“You raced her?”

“I used to,” I say. “In high school, I raced on weekends, out at Milan.”

“Were you good?”

“I was okay.”

“With the way you ride, you were more than okay, I fucking guarantee it,” says Rogan. “Let’s head in.”

Looking behind me to find Rafe, I decided to play with Rogan a bit. You know, to keep him on his toes.

“Hey, Rafe.”

“Yeah?” he says. “Sup?”