Toni managed to leave Leo and Jones unsettled. She’d caught them staring at her most of the evening until it became aggravating. Maybe throwing her glass into the fireplace had crossed the line but, shit, she'd had too much to drink. And who wouldn’t be frustrated in her situation?

The assholes she tried to take down had kidnapped her sister, mistaking Rose for her. What the hell had she been thinking of going undercover in the same city where anyone might make that error? She'd been thinking Las Vegas was too big, and she was too smart for anyone to make the connection. Her first of so many mistakes in this case. Since then she’d hadn’t changed her appearance, she’d missed the tail on her until he rammed her car, and underestimated her subject.

She glared at the two men sitting on the couch across from her, following her every move. “What?”

So far, they’d shooed the staff away from the room but hearing them shuffling around the house irritated her, grating on her last remaining, overly sensitive nerve. They went about their regular routines, life continuing on as if Rose wasn’t out there somewhere, scared, hurt and needing her help. Toni wanted to throw something else. Her sister's voice echoed in her head, calling out for her. But, instead of doing something, she sat here, nursing her guilt with forty-year-old Scotch and two distressed men, unwilling to let her out of their sights.

Jones tugged Leo toward the doorway and leaned close. “Do you need me to stay?”

He probably thought she was too drunk to hear him. Or she didn't bother listening. Perhaps if she made her wishes clear, they'd both quit fretting over her like old women and leave. Let her wallow in her self-recriminations and guilt.

“I don’t want either of you here.”

She didn’t because as soon as they left - fuck procedures and rules - she would leave to find her sister.

Or die trying.

Leo jerked his head to one side as if to tell Jones he should go. Jones rolled his eyes and shrugged. They were about as subtle as a heart attack.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you both stop? I’m too drunk to leave and there's no clue where to start looking for her right now. You put out an APB so until we get a response, there's nothing else to do, right?”

“T—” Jones held out his hands, entreating her.

“Just go home to your wife,” Toni grumbled staring into the fire, waving a hand at him, letting her body slouch further into the sofa. “There’s nothing you can do here. I’m going to drown my sorrows in this scotch until I hear about Bentley’s arrest. Then I'll torture the bitch with my bare hands until she gives me my sister back. God help her if Rose has a scratch on her.” She tipped the glass back again, the ice clinking against the sides as the cold liquor washed over her tongue.

“I’ll walk you out,” Leo offered.

“You should go too,” Toni called as he headed for the door with Jones. “I want to be alone.”

Leo’s eyes softened. “What you want and what you'll get are two very different things, babe.”

She watched the pair walk out, the deep timbre of their voices from the front door almost soothing. She couldn’t make out what they said but it wouldn't take a genius to imagine the conversation.

Watch out for her. She’s torn up.

She blames herself.

Who knows what she might do. Don’t let her out of your sight.

The problem was, they weren’t wrong. She was to blame. Even her mother blamed her. Their mother hadn’t left her room since Toni had gone out to find Rose. Toni closed her eyes, imagining the horrors Rose must be going through and dug her nails into the arm of the couch.

It should have been her. If she'd let them grab her this morning when that kid hit her car, it would have led her right to Bentley and they would have never known Rose existed. Toni could talk her way out or fight her way out. The entire Bureau would search for a missing agent. But Rose? To them, she was just another case to solve.

Toni rose from the couch and walked to the fireplace, bracing her hands on the mantle, staring into the flames. Leo’s footsteps tapped lightly over the floors as he came back into the room, stopping a few feet from her. She felt his presence but she didn’t tear her gaze from the bursts of color rising from the logs in the hearth. A log split with a pop followed by a quick hiss.

“Toni?”

“I should’ve listened to you.” She watched the colors in the fireplace bleed from blue to orange to yellow, stretching higher, fed from the fuel beneath it. Like her guilt, growing stronger with every passing second, drawing more strength as she recounted her every sin.

“I promised not to go undercover.”

“Toni—”

“I was so confident. Thought I had everything under control. So sure no one could touch me.” She turned toward him. “So fucking cocky.”

Toni prepared to face his accusations but when he rushed to her, his warm hands cupping her face, his thumbs brushed away the tears she hadn’t realized streamed down her cheeks. Tears for her pain. For the loss she didn’t want to consider might be a possibility.

“We’ll find her,” he promised.

“But what if it’s too late?”

“It won’t be. We’ll find her.”

“What if I got her killed?”

Her heart fractured as she spoke the frightening words aloud, as she let the possibility take hold of her mind. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, unsure whether she was trying to push him away or use his strength to keep her from collapsing. She ached. Every cell in her body. Her mind whirled with the statistical improbability of finding her sister unharmed. She knew the odds, she fought against them with every case, but this one was different. This was personal.

Toni wasn’t certain how her heart continued to beat when her chest had filled with concrete. Unable to stand under the load of it any longer, she wanted to let it drag her down, let it pull her into the floor. She wished she could let it consume her. She’d thought it was the alcohol numbing her. It wasn’t; she was dead inside.

“It’s my fault.”

Leo’s hands moved over her back, her hair, her face, caressing her and speaking soft words into her ear. Although she couldn’t make out what he was saying, the words washed over her like a soft rain, nourishing her withered soul. His lips touched her closed eyes, kissing the trail her tears left on her cheeks.

She didn’t deserve his empathy or compassion. She never had.

Toni pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move and she didn’t have the strength to fight him. If he wanted to stay, she wouldn't turn him away. Before she realized what he was doing, Leo lifted her into his arms. She curled into his chest like a child. Neither spoke. No words that would make her suffer less guilt or less sorrow. Her head grew too heavy, her grief making her too weary to fight any longer.

Toni leaned into his warmth, pressing her ear against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the steady inhale and exhale of his breath, as he carried her toward the stairs. Turning her face into his broad chest to hide the fresh tears, she raised her hand to cover his heart, as if that gesture would help her absorb a little of the absolution he offered.

Leo took her to her room, and laid her on the bed before lying behind her, his body curving around hers. His arms circled her; his thighs cradling her body. For a moment, she could give in to the respite he offered. In his arms, she was forgiven for her mistakes.

“I love you, Toni.” His lips caressed the curve of her ear. “I will find her. I promise you.”

“You can’t know that.”

“You know me. I will find her.”

A sliver of hope cracked through her despair. Leo would find Rose.

But reality doused it quickly. Leo was being kind, trying to save her from her own despondency. There was no hope. She was to blame. There was no use denying it.

She didn’t deserve anyone like Leo, didn't warrant his tenderness. Not when she caused nothing but pain to those she loved, those she promised to protect. She rolled over and cupping his face in her hands, Toni pressed her lips against his, accepting the truth her heart whispered.

One last night, just one last night.

* * *

“Word on the street is that the cops are out in force, looking for you.”

Tank’s cocky grin pissed her off more than the idea that the police knew who she was. Monique had worked hard to build up her business, servicing anyone from low-end Johns to high profile clients. Somehow, someone tipped off the cops to her whole operation in the past twenty-four hours. It made her question the introduction made the night of the gala. She stared at the woman curled in the corner in a couture dress that didn’t quite fit her. The blonde hair that had been so vibrant a few days ago, hung in greasy strands into her face, clinging to a lip still slightly swollen. Makeup had covered most of the brushing but it couldn’t disguise the lump at her temple or the cut Tank had left on her cheek.

“Who are you really?” she asked, a perfectly manicured fingernail brushing back and forth over her lower lip. “You can’t be just a regular student.”

“If she is, then she's got a rich family. Someone famous, a politician or something.” Tank snorted. “I think you’ve fucked up this time around.”

“If there was any ‘fuck up,’ it’s on you.” Monique clenched her jaw as she reached for the front of his shirt, fisting the material and dragging his face close to hers. "I didn't touch her. I didn't do anything. You did."

Tank pried her hand from his shirt and took a step back. “You said get her, and I did.”

“Damn Gupta and the interest he has in these girls,” she muttered, pacing the room. “Why can’t he pick from the runaways like the others?”

“People with too much money are weird, with strange fetishes. Give me a drug dealer any day of the week. Those guys will take a stripper. They're happy with any pussy they get.”

“Speaking of which, you’ve got your guys upstairs keeping an eye out, right? And others at the Center? The last thing we need is a surprise.”

“Yeah, about that…The Feds raided the Center, found the girls under the garage. The place is crawling with cops. I had two of my guys head over to grab those three girls to work in the club tonight and they called back, saying they couldn’t get in.”

“Shit.”

She didn’t want to think about what would happen when her boss found out about this. The 4Teen Center had been their base of operations for the past two years, an easy way to lure expendable kids into their fold, as well as women who were already on the run or hiding. They had a pick of people who’d slipped through the cracks and remained unreported when they went missing, even permanently. It was easy to keep their disappearance quiet. A few shots and they became pliant, easy manipulated and convinced she would help them move on to a fresh start.

She sighed and turned back to the woman in the chair. How could this one girl cause this much trouble?

Tank pushed her with the toe of his boot. “We should deliver her to Gupta now. Get her out of here and leave town before it gets any hotter.”

Monique shifted, rolling her shoulders and feeling the tension in them squeeze tighter. She crossed her arms as she tried to weigh her options. “No. No one knows this room is under the club. Gupta is heading out of the country in two days. He'll take her with him and then she’s his problem. We can wash our hands and move on to the next city. I’m thinking L.A. would be a decent resource pool.”

Tank shrugged. “Brothels aren’t legal in California.”

“No,” she agreed, “but ‘movies,’” she lifted her fingers in air quotes, “are. There are a lot of hopefuls looking to be discovered and willing to do almost anything for that chance.”

He stuck out his lower lip, and she knew he’d go along with her plans. Tank had a good thing going; he wasn’t dumb enough to ruin that. In the meantime, she would lie low until her boss sent word, and money. The Center was a lost cause once the media caught wind of the raid, if they hadn’t already. Her donors would look for her. Those investors who weren’t actual clients would demand their money back. Those who were would want to make sure she kept their identities secret. A sure way to get them all busted by the Feds.

She needed to hide, which meant she was stuck under the strip club for the next day or so, until the man at the top requested her presence. And he would call her, eventually, if only to collect his punitive damages. It would take every bit of skill to convince him that this hadn’t been her mistake.

Fucking Gupta.