Rico

Having her back in my arms, even in this small closet, is everything I need. I try to be gentle. She’s hurt. These bastards who call themselves family have hurt her again. She winces even as she leans into me, her tender body aching from their brutal treatment.

The beast in me wants to kill every single one of them, but I swore allegiance to the concept of justice, and I’m going to see it done.

“We have to be careful,” she whispers. “Leon is angry…”

“Don’t worry about Leon,” I murmur, picking up the radio from its catch on my belt. Looking into her beautiful, broken gaze, I give the order I’ve been waiting to give. “The lady is secure. Everybody in. Now.”

The Francoise boys fucked up this time. Taking Jasmine was one thing, but calling me was stupid. All calls to the FBI can be traced, even after they’re completed. Every carrier in the country answers to us. We had the location triangulated within minutes of hanging up.

To make things even easier, there was practically no resistance as we moved in. The guards and lookouts which usually serve to let the French Connection know they’re about to be raided were utterly absent. Bad time to take a day off.

As she hears me give the order to breach, Jasmine’s eyes go wide. Her body stiffens against mine. I can tell she’s surprised at the sudden change of fortune, but this is the opportunity we have been waiting for for a very long time. When they decided to take her from our safe house, they finally made the mistake we needed them to make, and I wasn’t going to waste it.

“What are you doing? You can’t…”

The sounds of heavy footsteps are already echoing outside. There’s shouting, authoritative noise from men who are going from room to room, clearing each of them until they find Jaques and Leon Francoise. I can’t wait to get Jaques in an interrogation room. I’m going to make that man pay for everything.

An increase in the volume of the shouting indicates they’ve found the Francoise men. I lead Jasmine out of the closet and entrust her to a small team of agents. I want to get in on this arrest. I want to see it happen.

Chaos erupts in what looks like an office. It’s Colt. He shouldn’t be here. He must have put himself on the breach team without my being aware of it. He is going to answer for that later. He’s also going to answer for the fact he is on top of Leon Francoise, beating the hell out of him. Big fists are flying back and forth in the air, pommeling the prone man.

“Get him off that suspect!”

It takes four agents to pull Colt off, still swinging like a man possessed. What he’s done is unacceptable, unprofessional, and entirely understandable.

I’ll read him the riot act later. Or not.

Right now, Leon is bleeding profusely from a very broken nose, and he seems to be missing a couple of teeth. That beautiful face has been messed the hell up.

He’s stoic though. Doesn’t care about the pain. He spits blood and a bit of tooth at Colt as retaliation, and the pair almost erupt into chaos again.

“This is my scene, not a brawl,” I remind Colt. “You’ve done what you came to do. Now get out of here.”

“You know what he did to Sonya,” Colt starts.

“Get him out of here,” I say to the other agents. I can’t blame Colt, but damn if he’s not a liability right now. A small swarm of fellow agents, who stood back and let him have at Leon, I note to myself, escort Colt out.

“Get him up. Cuff him.” I point at Leon, who is rolling about on his back, groaning and gurgling.

The remaining agents carry out my orders, bringing the dramatic young man up to his feet, while making sure his hands are well secured.

“I never touched the other agent,” Leon smirks, his smile blood-ridden. “That was my father.”

“Speaking of your dear dad, where is your father?”

“He went away.” Leon’s bloodied smile grows bolder and wider. “Really far away.”

“His phone is still pinging from this house.”

“I guess he took another phone. Or maybe he doesn’t need one where he is,” Leon laughs.

“Tais-toi!”

It’s Jasmine who intervenes, shooting off a rapid-fire series of exclamations at her brother. I swing around, scowling at the agents who let her in here.

“I told you to keep her safe!”

“She insisted, sir.” A hapless agent throws up her hands. “We didn’t want to physically restrain her. She has some bruises we could have made worse…”

“Whore,” Leon growls at Jasmine. “Traitorous little slut. You spread your legs for him and betrayed us all.”

“Watch your mouth,” I interject.

“Watch your back, Agent Rico. She can’t be trusted,” Leon smirks. “There’s a reason we beat her. That’s the only time you can trust her. She’s a lying, scheming, little slut. Always has been.”

It takes every bit of self-control I have not to reprise Colt’s routine on him, but I know revenge is best served twenty to life.

“Cuff him and take him in,” I order.

He is drawn out of the room, still managing an arrogant swagger even with steel around his wrists and blood caking under his nose.

“Don’t worry about what he says,” Jasmine excuses him. “He’s just…”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s not just anything. He’s a co-conspirator in your kidnapping. He’s the man responsible for abusing you. I don’t ever want to hear a word out of your mouth trying to explain away what he’s done.”

She looks taken aback.

I wrap my arms around her, drop a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I am so sorry I let this happen to you. I should never have left you and Sonya. You should have had more protection. I should have been there…”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, forcing brightness I don’t believe. “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t look okay. She looks exhausted. She looks bruised and battered. She looks like she needs to be taken home and taken care of - and that’s precisely what I intend to do.

“Hold Francoise overnight,” I order. “I’ll deal with him once we have his father in custody too.”

I’ve been waiting to bring the French Connection down for years. Right now, all I want to do is look after Jasmine. She’s been through more than anyone should have to go through, abuse at the hands of those who should have loved and protected her.

“I’m taking you to get checked out at the hospital,” I tell her. “And then we’re going to my home. I’m not leaving you alone again.”

“It doesn’t really matter now. You’ve got Leon.”

“But I don’t have your father,” I remind her.

“Oh. Right.”

There’s something kind of distant and far away about her. It makes my chest feel tight with anger. There are marks on her that no woman should ever wear. She’s been beaten. She’s been hurt. She’s suffered, and it’s because I didn’t protect her the way I said I would. I let her down. I won’t do that again, even if it means not letting her out of my sight.

I lead her out of the house and we go to the hospital. She says very little to me, and when I try to speak to her, she has that tone in her voice, the one that makes me worry not just for her body, but for her soul.

I’m afraid those brutes she calls family seriously hurt her this time, but a medical examination reveals no serious issues. Bumps and bruises, the doctor calls them. He gives her an injectable painkiller to deal with the swelling and the pain, tells me it might make her sleepy and maybe a little woozy, but if I get her home to bed she should feel better in the morning.

I doubt that very much. When she wakes up, she’s still going to be sore. And she’s still going to have lost her family. I’ve dealt with cases like this far too many times. No matter how much a victim might loathe their abuser, when that person also bears the title father or brother, there’s a familial bond which is almost impossible to break.

She’s even more quiet on the way home.

“This is so messed up,” she slurs as I help her out of the car. She’s quite wobbly on her feet. They must have given her a real heavy dose of that medication.

“I know,” I agree.

“I mean… it’s messsssed up,” she drawls, swinging around in my arms. I have to sweep her up off her feet, carry her over the threshold of my home just to stop her from stumbling or falling into a wall.

“It’s going to be okay,” I reassure her. “I’ve got you now.”

“You’re the law,” she says as I settle her on the couch. “Leon fought the law, but the law won.”

“Mhm. Stay there, I’m going to get you some hot chocolate.”

“Heisse schokolade!” She declares. “That’s German for hot chocolate.”

“Is it?”

“Mein vater ist tot,” she adds with an odd smirk.

“What does that mean in English?”

“It means I would also like some cookies.”

I make her the hot chocolate and cookies and I set her up on the couch with a big soft blanket, turn the television on to something comforting and mindless. We can talk later. For now I want to give her space to recover a little.

She drinks her hot chocolate, and she nibbles at the cookies and she curls up next to me and together we watch a cartoon about a cat and a mouse. It’s simple. It’s quiet. It’s safe. It’s what she needs right now. And it’s what I need too, just to have her here and know that she is going to be safe no matter what.

My gun is still holstered, and I’m wearing the holster. With her father loose somewhere, I wouldn’t rule out a brazen assault even here. There are a couple units stationed nearby in case he is stupid enough to try. To a certain extent, I hope he does come in here. I don’t want Jasmine in danger again, but I relish the notion of getting my hands on the man who destroyed his son and did his best to ruin his daughter too.

“I’m sleepy,” Jasmine declares.

“It’s okay. You can go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

“You better be,” she says, twisting around to lay her head in my lap. She looks up at me, those pretty eyes still so trusting in spite of everything. “You came to save me,” she mumbles.

“Of course I did,” I say, stroking her hair gently.

“You were too late though.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were years too late. Years and years. I wish you would have saved me before he started using me. I lost my virginity to one of his friends on my eighteenth birthday. His friend paid for me. Does that make me a whore, like Leon said?”

My heart breaks for her. “No,” I say. “It doesn’t. Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve fucked so many men,” she whispers. “But you’re the only one I liked fucking, Rico. Would you do it again?”

I knew she wasn’t a virgin when I met her, but the idea of her being used and taken by men who never appreciated her beauty or her mind makes me angry. I try not to let it show. Nothing she’s done before this point was her fault. It doesn’t taint her. All that matters is that I have her now. She’s mine. And she’ll never belong to anyone else.

“We’ll be together again. Just not tonight. You need to rest up a little and heal.”

“I need you,” she semi-moans. “I’ve been bad. Very bad. I need you to spank me, Rico. I need you to fuck me until I forget.”

There is no way I’m having sex with her at this point in time. She’s battered, bruised, and under the influence of some pretty powerful medications.

“I have done crimes, Rico. You should whip me for them. You should make me hurt…”

I gather her up into a hug, pulling her up so she’s sitting in my lap. I cradle her close and I start telling her everything she needs to hear. “This wasn’t your fault, Jasmine. You’re a good girl. You’re a very good girl. You’ve helped me as much as you can, and you’ve been so strong and so brave. It’s okay to rest now.”

“But…” she looks at me with her eyes gleaming with tears. “Mein vater ist tot,” she whispers again.

I reach down to the plate and pick up a cookie. “Here,” I say. “You can have as many as you like.”

She shakes her head, but nibbles anyway. “You don’t understand me, Rico. You never will. Because you’re good, and I’m bad. And there’s only one thing to do with bad girls. You have to hurt them until they’re good.”

She’s a beautiful little vessel of sin, and I know she wants absolution. But I’m not going to hurt her. Not the way she’s talking about, and definitely not tonight.

“I think we should go to bed,” I say. “Let’s get some sleep.”

She doesn’t raise any objection to that, so I gather her up, crumbs and all and I take her to bed. The house alarm is set, my gun is not far from my hand, and I help Jasmine undress. There are marks on her arms and legs from where those monsters beat her. I make a mental note of them. They’re going to pay for each and every one of them.

She strips to her panties, and we get into bed. I hold her in my arms and cradle her to sleep. It doesn’t take long. She’s exhausted and she’s got enough sedative on board to make a horse take a nap.

I wake up to hot lips around my cock.

My eyes fly open as I realize what the sensation is. I push the covers back and flip the bedside light on. Jasmine is down on her knees, her mouth wrapped around my dick. I am rock hard and horny as hell. The clock beside the bed reads 04:00.

“What are you doing?” The question is stupid. I know exactly what she’s doing.

“I need you to fuck me, Rico,” she purrs around my cock. “I need your dick inside me. I need you to make me feel like you did when you took me.”

This is wrong. I should be looking after her, taking care of her. But she is a grown woman and I don’t see the same drug addled glaze in her eyes now.

She sits up and runs an elegantly manicured finger down the seam of her panties. “Pull these down and fuck me, Rico,” she begs. “Make my cunt yours.”

It’s already mine.

I reach down and pull her up my body. The position puts her hot pantied pussy directly over my hard cock, the buttery softness of the lace of her underwear rubbing between us as she grinds against me.

“I told you it was time to sleep, little girl.”

“But I didn’t want to,” she pouts. “I wanted you to fuck me.”

Goddamn. There is no resisting this seductive minx of a woman. I run my hands down her shapely body, clasp her ass against me, and my fingers curl in the delicate lace of her underwear, pulling it, stretching it, and ultimately, tearing it slowly from her sweet, needy pussy.

She is writhing against me as I sink my cock inside her, finding the depths of her creamy cunt. She’s wet. Really fucking wet, and those hot inner walls stretch perfectly for me as I hold her hips and work her bottom back and forth, making her cunt ride me.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?”

“Yesss,” she moans. “I needed you to fuck me just like this.”

I push her right down on my cock, hold her there in place, help her feel the stretch of her pussy as my thick dick throbs inside her. This is the connection we’ve always had, a hot, sexual dynamic which is only satisfied when I have her pussy wrapped around me.

“Is this better, hmm?” I kiss her passionately, my big hands clasping her bottom as I pull my cock out of her, swirl my finger in the mixture of our juices, and push it against the tight little bud of her bottom.

She whimpers for my cock to return, but I am starting to think maybe she does need sex and maybe not the gentle, kind, sweet orgasmic kind. Maybe she needs the kind that absolves her of the weight of her misdeeds.

I push my finger harder against that little hole. I feel it give way, hot and tight. And I feel her cunt squirming against my cock, begging to be filled.

“Have you been a bad girl, Jasmine?”

“Yes!”

She breathes her confession against my mouth. I leave her pussy empty, and work her bottom on my finger. I want to tease her, stretch her. I want to open her up to me, give her what she craves.

“What happens to bad girls?” I growl the question against her mouth.

“They… mmnnghh… they get fucked…”

“Where do they get fucked?”

“In… in the ass?”

I push my finger in deeper, feel her hot ass clench it.

“They get their bottoms fucked,” I agree. “They get their tight, naughty, hot little bottoms fucked nice and hard.”

She moans as I lift her hips and guide not her pussy, but her bottom toward my cock. The lubricant from her pussy is ample, slathering my cock in her need. I start to push my dick against that tight ring of muscle, making her surrender.

Her moans become whimpers, but I keep pushing. This is what she needs. This is what she wants. I push my cock deeper, feel that tight ring of muscle give way to me. Her ass feels amazing. She’s tight. She’s hot. She’s giving herself to me in every way a woman can. I’ve taken each of her holes.

“Fuck me,” she begs. “Please… fuck me hard.”

I keep her hips in my grasp and lift her slowly up and down my cock, letting her ass adjust to the fucking. She can have it hard and rough soon. For now, I want to enjoy her. The way she arches and gasps with pleasure. The way her pussy leaves a trail of hot wet desire across my pubic hair. She’s beautiful in her desire, unrelenting in her need.

I can’t take this anymore. I have to take her properly, fully, like she needs to be taken. I plunge my cock in and out of her, wrapping my arms around her lower back to keep her in place.

I fuck her without mercy, making her bottom pay for every sin she has stored up. She moans and whines and whimpers and she grinds against me, working her tight little clit against my pubic bone so when I finally do roar with climax and fill her hot ass with my cum, she orgasms as well, shuddering and shaking and begging for the release she is already enjoying.

Jasmine collapses against me, finally spent, finally satisfied.

“Thank you,” she mumbles against my lips before falling asleep on my chest, her bottom leaking my seed.

The next morning, things begin to intensify. There’s more news coming in from the field agents. While I take their calls and messages, Jasmine showers and dresses in my clothes, not hers. Having her pad about the house in my shirt is adorable, but I have some agents drop some more appropriate attire off so she can get dressed in case we need to leave the house.

Her father appears to have disappeared off the face of the planet. We had twenty people assigned to him last night. They’ve tracked down all the usual employees, contacts, henchmen, and not found a thing.

“Jasmine,” I say as she sits at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of tea. “I need to ask you some questions.”

Her blue eyes sparkle. “Another interrogation, Agent Rico?”

She is obviously feeling much better today, but there’s still something she’s not telling me. I can sense it. In a way, it’s what I’ve always sensed from her. Jasmine and I have a lot of lies between us. She has so many secrets I have yet to discover. She told me some last night, when she confessed to having sex with her father’s friends for money. I don’t know if she remembers telling me, but I won’t ever forget it.

Her father used her. He tried to ruin her. He is going to spend the rest of his life behind bars. I am determined to make that happen.

“Not an interrogation,” I say. “We can’t find your father.”

She nods, seeming unsurprised.

“Can you tell me anything that might help us find him and bring him to justice?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” she says, hiding her mouth behind the cup.

“Oh it’s going to happen. I am going to find him.”

She gives a little smirk, and in that moment, she looks so much like her brother.

“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

That’s a lie. A bold-faced lie.

“Jasmine,” I growl. “If there’s something you can tell me…”

“Mein vater ist tot,” she smiles, reverting to the German she slurred at me last night.

“You want cookies, now? It’s breakfast time.”

She laughs. “You should really learn to speak another language other than English,” she says.

I’m confused. She’s not only not helping me, she’s deliberately making this harder than it needs to be. I don’t understand why.

“Look, speak English, okay?”

“You’re not allowed to demand people just speak English, Rico,” she smirks.

I’m starting to get frustrated.

“They beat you last night,” I remind her. “They hurt you. And your father is still out there, so how about you stop messing around and tell me what I need to know.”

She narrows her eyes a little. “I’m telling you everything I can bring myself to tell you, Rico. It’s not easy to turn your whole family in.”

There it is. That misplaced loyalty that neither Leon nor Jaques deserve.

“We found a gun. Recently fired. Your brother’s fingerprints are on it,” I say, taking another tack.

“Maybe he was shooting target practice.”

It’s plausible, but I don’t believe it. She’s lying to me. Bare-faced, stone cold lying. I am not impressed.

“Jasmine. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it to do with your father’s whereabouts?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, Rico.”

“Yes, you do. I know you, Jasmine. I know when you’re lying. And you should know me well enough by now to know that lying is a bad idea.”

“What are you going to do? Spank me?” She smirks. “You can’t do that. Not as part of an official criminal investigation.”

“I’m not going to spank you,” I say, standing up. “I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, Jasmine. I thought we were on the same side.”

She lets out a feminine little growl. “We have never been on the same side, Rico. I’m a criminal. So is my family. I’m telling you what I can, and not what I can’t. Forget my father. He doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Why not?” I cock my head to the side. “Why aren’t you worried your father won’t come for you again?”

She looks at me, beautifully, blankly. She forces me to figure it out for myself.

I could whip her ass and force her to tell me. I could lock her up until she talks. She knows these things, but she’s staying silent. I rack my brains, trying to work out why the girl who wanted my cum in her ass suddenly won’t give me information that could save her life.