Chapter 20

Emi

“What’s the worst that can happen? Are we going to jail?” I whisper to Maren, scared someone is listening.

“I don’t know,” Maren answers me just as lowly.

“We really should have thought this through better.”

“How were we supposed to know it was a sex club? Stick to our story. Our credentials are flawless. There’s no way anyone here knows who we are or why we’re here.” She starts to pace in a circle.

I check my watch and try to stop my knees from shaking. It’s been forty-five minutes since we were escorted to this room and locked in. Maren and I kept quiet when the bartender asked us to follow him. We recognized him, but he gave no indication of recognizing us. The only thing he said before leaving was, “Mr. Miles will be here shortly.”

Neither Maren nor I know a Mr. Miles.

This was supposed to be easy. Bailey sent us a message that Justin was going out tonight with the guys. Maren and I knew there was a good chance that he was lying. With the information we gathered on Wednesday night, she was able to somehow hack into the ‘Suite’ system and get us on the invitation list.

Well, technically, she got Carrie and Miranda on the list, and made us corresponding IDs to match. We knew our instincts were right when Justin’s GPS tracker showed him driving into the parking lot. He came in alone and sat at the bar, having a few drinks before a woman approached him. He greeted her as if they knew each other and then followed her to the other side of the dance floor.

That’s when the two men closed in on Maren and me, offering to buy us a drink and take us to the viewing. I thought viewing meant some sort of strip show. Maybe Justin was actually meeting his friends for a few lap dances.

What a dumbass. Maren and I realized our mistake when we walked into the room. Justin and the woman from the bar were just getting started, and we had no choice but to watch the two men demonstrate what they referred to as an exhibition in women’s pleasure.

Justin didn’t have sex with his partner, but I can’t imagine Bailey is aware of his secret.

My head jerks at the sound of the door unlocking. Maren’s at my side gripping my elbow in less than a second.

All the air leaves my lungs when Walker steps into the room, followed by another man.

His face is stone cold, his jaw ticking, and a fire scorches in his eyes. He stays planted across the room, pinning me with his glare.

“Holy fucking shit,” Maren mumbles, squeezing harder.

My vision grows blurry, my heart thundering in my chest so loud, I’m sure he can hear it. Then my stomach does a dive, and I can’t hold back the shockwave that runs through me.

The way he’s staring tells me he knows exactly who I am. He’s not fooled by my disguise.

What’s he doing here?

“Don’t,” he barks, sending a chill up my spine.

“I didn’t—”

“The question is written all over your face.”

I take a deep breath and try to step forward, but my legs won’t budge. “I can expl—”

“Oh, you’re going to explain, but first, you’re both coming with us. We’re leaving.” He comes to my side, ungluing me from Maren’s grip and circling his arm around my waist.

The other man does the same with Maren, and they lead us out of the room, down the hall, and out a back entrance. There’s a limo waiting, and the guy holding the door looks confused as Walker gently guides me inside. I try to scramble to the back of the seats, but he drags me into his lap.

“Don’t move.”

Maren gets in with wide eyes, moving far away, and the other man joins her. Finally, my brain starts working, comprehending who he is and what is happening.

“Agent Kelly?” I presume, and a wide smile spreads across his face.

“Bryant Kelly,” he confirms, winking at me.

“You got something in your eye, Kelly?” Walker growls.

“Nope.” He chuckles, enjoying Walker’s mood.

The door closes, and the driver climbs into the driver’s seat. For the first time, I notice another guy in the front as well.

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” the driver spews.

“Where’s your car?” Walker ignores the question and eyes me.

“Maren drove.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I need Collins to follow us in Maren’s car back to my place. Maren, give him your keys.”

She grabs them out of her purse and hands them to Bryant, who tosses them up front. Maren helps him find her car, and Collins turns to face us.

“Would either of you ladies like to ride with me?” He switches his eyes between us.

“Neither of you fucking move,” Walker commands, which gets a loud snicker from Collins before he closes the door.

“I’m Ross, by the way,” the driver yells. “I assume you’re Emi?”

I nod.

“Not my fucking Emi.” Walker twists me to face him, carefully taking my glasses and setting them aside. Then he gently removes my wig, cap, and barrette holding my hair up. His hands thread though my hair a few times before gripping the back of my head and tugging me into him.

“That’s better.” He slides his lips over mine.

My sense of relief is short lived when he pulls back and pins his glare to Maren. “Glasses and purse.” He holds out his hand, and she reluctantly hands them over.

“How’d you know it was me?” I ask cautiously.

“Baby, I’d know your ass anywhere. But your ass, your legs, this dress… there was no denying. Spotted you at the bar before you went into that damn room.”

“It’s not what you think. I m-m-mean, we’re not members of the club,” I stammer, pleading with him to believe me.

“I know.”

Something he said clicks in my head. “Wait, you said you spotted me at the bar. You were already there?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you had to work tonight! What were you doing there?”

“Working.”

“Working at a sex club!?!”

“Yes,” he repeats.

“Oh my God, was this illegal? Were there drugs in there?”

“It’s not illegal, and as far as I know, there weren’t drugs.”

“Well then, why were you there?” I narrow my eyes in frustration.

Bryant starts to laugh, sitting back and spreading his arms across the back of the seats.

“Aren’t they cute?” Maren coos.

Walker’s chest tenses, clearly not as pleased as his friend.

“You should have seen him when she hurt her crotch. He was so sweet.”

“I didn’t hurt my crotch! It was my groin,” I argue, heat creeping up my face.

“Same difference.” She shrugs, uncaring.

“It’s not, my crotch—”

“Stop talking about your crotch!” Walker roars, sending Maren into a fit of giggles.

“Bryant, Walker gets a little testy when it comes to Emi. On their very first date, he scared the waiter away and then pulled a gun on me when I interrupted them making out.” Maren continues to talk, not swayed by the tension filling the air between us.

“The gig’s up, Maren. I may not be able to spank your ass, but you’ve got some explaining to do, too.”

“Me? I didn’t do—” she starts, but I interrupt her.

“You’re not getting anywhere near my ass for a long time if you don’t st—”

“Don’t finish that statement. Choose your words carefully, Emerson, or should I say Carrie and Miranda?” he says low enough for only me to hear.

His knowledge of our names causes my stomach to plummet again. I chew on my bottom lip, looking at Maren for help. She’s useless.

“I see you’re finally getting the picture.”

He’s right; I see the picture loud and clear.

We’re busted.

I stare at the coffee table, which is now littered with the contents of our purses and the items Walker found in Maren’s car. All of it Trixsters gear. He sets his laptop up, facing us, and observes my reaction.

I know what he’s going to show us before he even hits play, but I still cringe when the video comes to life. Apparently, Maren doesn’t feel the same because she starts giggling.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” I jab her with my elbow. “You’ve been giggling like a loon. Don’t you understand the gravity of this situation?”

“There is no gravity. And the reason I’m laughing is because I’m relieved.”

“Relieved? You realize we’ve been caught, right?”

“Yes, by Walker, which is perfect.”

Walker stops the video and stands tall, his hands on his hips, staring at us with displeasure. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“Phones, computers, tracking devices, recording devices, fake IDs… All of this,” he sweeps his hands to the table, “tells me you’ve been at this for a while. How long?”

“We started after the Carlton situation,” Maren answers for me.

“The Carlton situation? The same one where information on his cheating fell into your lap?”

“Yes.”

His eyes slice to me. “So, the information wasn’t truly anonymous. It came from you? You two worked in cahoots?”

There’s no need to deny it, so I nod.

“Start from the beginning. I want to hear it all.”

Maren and I exchange a look, and it’s clear on her face, she expects me to talk.

“Eyes to me, Emi.”

“We’re an anonymous duo, hired by people who suspect their significant others are cheating.”

“You’re moonlighting as vagina vigilantes?” he spews in disgust.

“We don’t discriminate. Men hire us, too,” Maren adds a little too happily. “Our business plan actually outlines all—”

“Business plan?”

“Of course, we may be amateurs, but we’re not dumb.”

“Do either of you have a private investigator’s license I don’t know about?”

We both shake our heads.

“Well, from where I stand, you’re riding a fine line, and have possibly broken about ten laws, that I know of.”

“Not entirely true. I’ve done extensive research online, and our practices are accepted under the PI statutes.”

“Yes, for licensed professionals.”

“Stop goading him,” I say under my breath.

“Tell me about tonight, Emi.”

I spill the story of Bailey and Justin, Maren interjecting details as she feels she needs to. When I’m done, Walker’s face is hard, the tick in his jaw returning.

He stares blankly at us then lets loose. “ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY!?! Hacking? Fake identities? Following two complete strangers into a room without knowing what was behind the door? Have you lost your minds?”

His words sink in, and while I think he’s being a bit dramatic, he has a point.

“Sweetie, we watched the crowd. We knew we were safe.”

He clenches his fists, dropping his chin to his chest and exhaling loudly. “Maybe not tonight, but crawling through backyards? What about the night at the hotel? Ten minutes later, you could have been involved in a gambling bust.”

My eyes bulge, knowing he’s aware we were there. “You know it was us?”

“I didn’t at the time, but I saw the video a few weeks ago and had a gut feeling something wasn’t right. Then Marcus sent me this video. Everything started falling into place.”

“You can’t tell Marcus it’s us,” I stupidly respond.

“Marcus is the least of my worries. Right now, I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’d put yourself in these situations, and that you’ve been keeping this from me. I don’t tolerate liars.”

“I’m not a liar. Just because I didn’t tell you doesn’t mean—”

Any control he was holding on to breaks, and he throws his hands in the air. “I’m a cop, Emi, a cop! I can’t have a girlfriend who breaks the law and puts herself in danger for whatever the fuck’s sake. How can I trust you? What the hell else are you keeping from ME?” He screams so loud I jerk back on the sofa and curl in a ball.

Guilt and shame slam into me at the look on his face, and my eyes start to burn. My vision becomes blurry as tears well up and slide down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” comes out in a broken gasp.

“Oh shit, you’ve made her cry. Emi never cries,” Maren yells at him and throws herself around me.

I suck back a sob and start to tremble right as strong arms wrap around my middle and pull me away from her. “Baby, don’t cry.”

I don’t respond, mostly because my throat is clogged and I can’t speak. Maren is right; I’m not a crier. Maybe a few times during a movie, but never over a guy. The happy tears I shed the other night with Walker were the first in a long time. I may be dramatic, but I’m not emotional.

Until now.

“Look at me,” Walker says gently, running a hand down my back.

I shake my head and bury it deeper in my knees.

I don’t tolerate liars… How can I trust you… What else are you keeping from me? His words play over and over in my brain.

“Baby, please look at me.”

I continue to shake my head, the tears pouring out even though I’m squeezing my eyes tight. Roaring starts in my ears as my heart races faster.

“Emi, please.” There’s a gentleness to his voice that eases some of the anxiety inside my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper hoarsely.

“Unwind yourself and look at me.” He kisses the top of my head and tries to pry my arms free.

I let him loosen my hold and tip my head up to him. Slowly, I open my eyes and try to focus. His face is etched with concern, his eyes a stormy shade of green. I inhale sharply, trying to get control of my raging emotions. A few more tears fall, and he wipes them away, bringing his forehead to mine.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I can’t stand that you don’t trust me.”

He blows out another breath, cupping my face and sweeping his lips over mine. “I trust you.”

“Do you still love me?”

“So much it makes me a madman.”

“Remember how I said there’s nothing you aren’t good at? I think I found something. You have a temper.”

“You put yourself in stupid, crazy, or dangerous situations again without telling me, I’ll lose my shit. Otherwise, I’ll try to keep my temper in check.”

“Are you going to ask us to quit?”

“Don’t ask me that right now. I’m still grappling with this.”

“Walker, maybe I can explain a little better.” Maren starts to talk—telling him everything. She doesn’t hold back, going as far as to tell him all of our cases.

I bow my head and hold my breath to the point of dizziness when she touches on our trip to Myrtle Beach and his arms tighten painfully.

Her explanation ends, and the anger and tension in the room scares me. Walker remains quiet, too quiet. Maren’s hand slides to grip my ankle, which is still tucked under me. The gesture is meant to reassure me, but my anxiety spikes again at the low grumbling coming from Walker.

“I’m not going to ask you to quit,” he finally rumbles sharply, clearly unhappy with his decision.

“Are you going to out us?” Maren presses.

“No, but I won’t be in the dark. I want to know where you are, even if I can’t know the details. It’s going to take me some time to wrap my head around this, I may ask questions. And you have to promise me to be careful.”

“Promise.”

“Seriously, there are some sick fucks out there. You don’t know what went through my head when I saw you disappear behind that door. I’d already gotten a tour of the club, so I knew what was happening. But you didn’t. That’s why I followed you.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“That’s weird. I wonder why I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know. Remember, I was undercover tonight.”

“But, usually, I know when you’re near.” I raise my face slowly to his.

“It’s true. Maybe it’s your cologne, but she has a sixth sense when it comes to you.” Maren replays the times I’ve felt him near.

“Well, tonight, you were preoccupied. That much was evident.” He kisses me again, then leans to look over my shoulder at Maren. “You two have to be more aware. If the situation was different, you could have been raped, beaten, forced to do something you didn’t want to—or worse.”

“We’ll be careful,” I repeat more confidently. The knot in my stomach starts to ease.

“Damn, what a night.” Maren stands and pats the top of my head. “I better go.”

“I have a guest room, if you want to stay,” Walker offers.

“Actually, I think you two need some time alone. Besides, I have to finish this up. I’m going to have to break the news to Bailey about Justin and figure out how to describe this. It’s not like I can send any of the video to her.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Actually, I’ll help, too.” Walker’s arms tighten in a squeezing motion.

“You will?” we ask in unison.

“You’re smart not to use the video. Regardless of the situation, there were three other people participating. This is an exclusive club that promises discretion to its members, hence you walking in thinking it was a nightclub. They were in what they consider a safe environment. Set the scene, tell her what you witnessed. He’s obviously into the lifestyle, and that’s what some consider this—a lifestyle. From what I saw, he takes this seriously. It wasn’t about getting laid. He respected the act. Maybe he does love Bailey, but he loves the high of this as well. Seems to me, he wants the best of both worlds.

“Without knowing her, I’d bet this will be a hard blow and she’ll have a lot of questions. These will be questions you can’t answer. Was he cheating? Who can say? On the surface, yes, he spends his time with other women. I’ll suspect she’s going to feel this deeply, knowing her fiancé has sexual proclivities that he hasn’t shared. She’ll have to confront him. But I’d advise you to encourage her to ask him about the woman he was with.”

“What about her?” I hang on his every word. His insight and sensitivity to the situation is astounding.

“What they shared was a lot more intimate than the other couple in the room. The touches, the caresses, the way he took his time and gently brought her pleasure. They were in sync. That comes from trust and a higher level of intimacy. It’s hard not to have an emotional investment in this. If she’s invested in him and knows he’s engaged, she may be the one doing the hang ups and leaving panties in mailboxes out of jealousy.”

Everything he says gives compassion to the situation I wouldn’t think of. We’ve based our jobs on uncovering cheaters, which is our brand, but Justin and Bailey could be different. Walker has humanized Justin in a way that actually makes me feel something for him.

“You’re brilliant,” I gush, cuddling in closer.

“Yes, how’d you do that? You made him seem almost decent, even though he’s sneaking around and lying.” Maren sounds as amazed as I am.

“I’m a cop. It’s my job to look at things from all sides. I’ve been profiling people for a long time.”

“I sincerely hope your kids get your brains and smarts, Walker. You better hope so, too, for both your sakes.”

“Hey! I’m no dummy!” I defend.

“No, you’re not, but you’re a tad bit irrational. It’s a characteristic we share. I’ll own that. He’s more level headed.”

“Seeing the ferocity of his anger a few minutes ago gives me reason to argue with you,” I point out.

“Emi, he was furious for about two point two seconds, and that was mostly because he was worried for us. I wish I had that type of protection. In my experience with men, albeit isn’t a lot, the man gets angry and holds a grudge for days. You find yourself sleeping alone and wondering how much groveling you have to do.”

My heart hurts for her admission. This is a reflection of her state of mind when she was with fuck-stick. Walker feels me tense and clasps me closer.

“I have my moments. You wouldn’t have exactly called me rational when I crushed a glass in my hand tonight after seeing another man touch Emi.”

“No, that’s hot. Plain, red-blooded, carnal H-O-T.” She takes the words right out of my mouth.

Walker kisses down my face until he reaches my ear. “We’re having boys, lots and lots of boys.”

I tilt my face to see his expression, my heart rate speeding up. “You don’t want any girls?”

“I have a feeling a lifetime with you and Maren will be all I can handle.”

“We’re not that bad.”

“Baby, I was ready to blow an entire operation tonight to get to you. Then I swore I was going to tan your ass for whatever wild-haired scheme you were up to. But seeing you cry broke something in me. Even with tear-stained cheeks, you’re the most beautiful woman in my world. Thinking about having a daughter exactly like you… a man can only take so much.”

My heart swells to the point of explosion, and I swallow hard, new tears threatening. The emotional rollercoaster continues.

“Okay.” Maren claps loudly, bringing our attention back to her. “Let’s get this done, so I can go home and get some sleep. It’s been a crazy night.”

“Seriously, Mare, I’ll do it tomorrow. Let’s go to bed. Stay here. I’ll get you some clothes.”

“Nope, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Actually, I’d prefer you stay here, too. It’s almost two in the morning. Do what you need to do for Bailey. I need to make a few calls anyway,” Walker tells us.

“Who are you calling at this hour?”

“Kelly, to follow up on a few things and clear up any confusion about tonight.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll have to cover the fact you both were dressed in disguise. I’m thinking I’ll blame it on Maren. Whatever I tell him, the team will keep it quiet.”

“Good idea.”

He kisses the tip of my nose and scoots out from under me, going to the kitchen.

“Great, now I’ll have a reputation at the station,” Maren grumbles, plopping down next to me

“You’ll get used to it.”