“I have an idea. Maybe we can get some background on these people.” She pressed a button and connected with Ramirez at the agency.
"Boss lady, how are you holding up with big and grumpy?" Ramirez greeted.
Cyn had to smile. She could hear the laughter in the shifter’s voice. Brock had never been grumpy, so she was unsure what the tiger was talking about.
"I got him on a tight leash," she muttered and glanced at Brock.
Brock’s lips curled into a sinful grin. And suddenly her body started to heat.
He flashed black eyes at her and licked his lips. "Leashed?"
He touched her then. Not with his hands which were busy grasping the steering wheel. But with his power. It was intoxicating. Like having his hands all over her body at the same time. Only, there were no hands on her. She became slick between her legs. Christ. That’s all she needed, to walk around with wet panties.
“Cut it out!” she whispered, placing a hand over the speaker on her cell phone.
Brock chuckled. “Cut what out? I’m driving.”
She didn’t buy his innocence. She knew him too well. Plus the light tickling at the center of her crotch—which she knew was all his doing, was going to make her come. Then they were going to have even more trouble because Ramirez would find out she was a screamer. Not something she needed him to know. Ever.
“If you keep it up,” she panted. “I…I…”
Fuck! She leaned against the cool leather of her seat and bit her lip. Struggling to not call out to him, she shut her eyes and panted. She squeezed the phone in her grasp, waiting for the tension mounting inside her to continue.
He stopped.
“Asshole! I’m going to get you for that. I’m going to tie you to the bed and torture you until you beg me to make it end.”
“You think so?” Brock’s eyes glowed with the power of his wolf now. His voice sounded so rough she could hardly make out the words. He lifted a dark brow. “Wonder what Ramirez thinks.”
She blinked. Shit. Shit. Shit. Ramirez. She still had him on the phone.
Ramirez guffawed so loud she heard it before putting the phone to her ear. "Oh, hell. You're probably worse than Jane."
"Focus, Ramirez. I need you to do something."
"Boss lady, I don’t know what was happening a minute ago, and while you sounded mighty sexy, Jane and I have this understanding that she plays hard to get, and I chase. You should know, I couldn't take any of your propositions seriously."
She growled. Brock’s lips lifted in a not so subtle smile of success.
"I'm not going to proposition you. If you stopped thinking about Donovan for a second, maybe I can tell you what I need."
"Don’t know if I can stop thinking of my sexy Red. She’s a firecracker. But I am here for whatever you need from me, so go for it, boss lady."
She sighed. If he wasn't so good at tracking and an amazing field operative, she'd wonder why they kept him around. Donovan would probably dislike it if Cyn got rid of the tiger. Just her luck that Donovan was a lot more special than all of them.
"See if you can dig up any criminal background on anyone in this town. I mean everyone from the Sheriff to the damn paper boy. I'm running low on patience and time. Call me with anything."
"I'm on it. By the way... I meant to ask..."
Took him long enough. There went the question she’d been waiting for. "Donovan is on vacation. It's been approved for months and no, I can't tell you where she went."
"Give me some credit." He chuckled. "I think I can find her myself."
It was about damn time. From reading both their files, it seemed he'd had more than enough patience. Then again, Donovan probably took the choice out of his hands to begin with.
She shut the phone off with a groan. “How in the world can you handle him?”
“Just wait until he and Trent are together. They are a team.”
“It can’t get any worse than that, right?” She shifted in her seat to watch him drive.
“Yeah. It can. You’re on a Buchanan break, and you should be grateful. He was far worse than Ramirez, but he’s mellowed. Last year, he and Erica finally stopped going around in circles with their feelings and let things flow. He and Ramirez have been the bane of the females and my existence.” He took a breath. His chest expanded in the too tight black T-shirt she kept visualizing him tearing off like a stripper.
“So how do we find Luis’s address?” Brock asked.
She pressed a button on her cell phone again.
“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Ramirez laughed.
“Put a sock in it, Ramirez,” Brock ordered, his hands squeezing at the steering wheel.
Cyn smiled. “I need an address.”
“Let me switch screens. Okay, shoot.” The sound of typing sounded over Ramirez’s words.
“Luis Gomez. I don’t really know the names of his family, but with the size of this town, I’m sure you can figure it out quickly.”
“Got it. Damn, you’re right too. That place is like the size of a shoe box. Luis and his family live at Nineteen Rock Road. His mother is Rocio Gomez, and he has a little sister too.” More typing. “Do you need the father’s name too? He doesn’t live with them.”
“Thanks, but I’m interested in Luis right now.” She put the address on the GPS and watched the road. Her mind kept straying to Josh. She couldn’t understand why Roxy would ignore her boyfriend just because she had an argument with her mother. It was something she’d have to bring up when she spoke to Clara later.
They took a turn down a road in the SUV. The difference between that street and the one the Landley’s lived at was astounding. Gone was the green, perfectly cut grass. Gone were the large homes, expensive cars, and picket fences with gorgeous gardens. This was definitely a poverty-stricken area. The streets were paved, but there were enough potholes to damage a tank.
“This is different,” she murmured. “I wonder how Roxy went from Luis to Josh.”
Brock noticed the change in Cyn instantly. Her hands went from laying loosely on her lap to curled into fists.
“Something wrong?” He glanced at the trailer numbers, searching for the one they needed.
“This reminds me of a case from a few years ago.” She cleared her throat, her husky voice filling the interior of the SUV.
With a quick glimpse, he turned to see her staring out the window. “What happened?”
“The child was killed by her father. He was angry over a divorce, and on a visit, he took her off to a cabin and shot her and himself,” she said softly. “The mother lived in an area much like this one. It’s one of those situations that I don’t forget.”
He knew all about that. There had been far too many cases in which he had found the victim already dead. They knew better than anyone that the first forty-eight hours were crucial in a missing person’s case. Unfortunately, they weren’t really sure if Roxy was truly missing yet.
He grabbed her left fisted hand, covering it with his. “Relax, we’ll find her.”
Her gaze swung to his face. His chest tightened at the sadness he saw in her eyes. He wanted to make it all better for her, but he knew that wouldn’t be easy. The SUV bumped slowly over potholes, further and further into the crowded trailer park.
“There’s number nineteen.” She pointed at a smaller trailer parked by a large Oak tree.
He rushed after her. Not that he detected any danger, but he had to be near her. To protect her. His animal and the other darker force within him would kill to keep her safe.
She knocked on the door. A moment later, a woman’s loud voice sounded from inside. “Get the door and stop being so useless!”
A little girl, no more than eleven years old opened the door.
“Can I help you?” the little girl asked.
Cyn gasped. He didn’t have to see her face to scent her distress. The little girl had bruises and scratches all over.
“Is Luis home?” Cyn’s voice was soft, addressing the child.
“What the hell is taking you so long?” Asked the woman’s voice closer to the door. A large heavyset woman with dark eyes and the smell of liquor filled the entrance. “Who are you?”
“We’re looking for Luis,” Cyn answered.
The little girl pushed further into the trailer, hidden from their view.
“Yeah? And who the hell are you?” the woman shouted.
Cyn’s hands curled into fists. “I’m—”
“We’re from the FBI, ma’am. We need to see your son,” Brock cut in. He didn’t dig into people’s minds unless necessary, but the bruises on the child and the complete fear in her eyes screamed for help.
“Too bad. I don’t know where the hell that little good for nothing is, but when he gets back, he’ll be regretting leaving without a word,” she sputtered. A lit cigarette hung from the side of her lips.
The hatefulness he saw in her eyes made the decision for him. He shoved his way into the woman’s mind. Fury burned in his chest at what he saw. The woman beat her kids in order to cope with her anger of their father leaving them.
“Brock?” Cyn whispered, tapping his shoulder. “Why is she just standing there all frozen?”
“Hang on a sec, sweetheart. I just need to see something,” he murmured, digging through Rocio Gomez’s mind. The last time she’d seen Luis, they argued over his step-sister, Rosalinda showing up. The girl was his older sister and the reason Luis’s father had left their family and returned to his ex-wife.
Brock dug through, searching memories and feelings. Darkness swirled around them, controlling the woman, holding her immobile while he searched. Power spread outward, shaking the ground, the trailer, and everything around them. Roxy’s name popped up about Luis hanging with her and his half-sister.
“Brock?” Concern laced Cyn’s voice. “This is really creeping me out.”
He took a moment to put some suggestions into Rocio’s mind. Mainly, about how to treat her children and being a better parent.
“Okay, we’re done here,” he slowly breathed the words out, reining the power in.
Rocio blinked a handful of times and glanced back and forth between Cynthia and Brock. “I’m sorry, what did you say you needed?”
Cyn’s head snapped to the side so fast Brock worried she’d hurt her neck. He met her wide-eyed stare with small grin.
“You already said you didn’t know where Luis was, Rocio,” he answered smoothly.
Rocio frowned, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Right. I don’t. He left a few days ago and hasn’t returned.”
“Thank you for your help,” he said, pulling out a card and handed it to the confused-looking woman. “If you hear from him, please have him call us. Or feel free to give us a call.”
“I will…” She trailed off and turned into her trailer. “Lucy? This place is a mess. Why don’t we clean up some, and then I’ll make us some lunch.”
“But what about your bottle, momma?” the little girl asked hesitantly.
“I don’t need that stuff. That’s disgusting,” she answered with distaste.
“How in the hell did you do that?” Cyn grabbed his T-shirt and tugged to get his attention. Her big, hazel eyes had gone a deep shade of green.
The sun beat down on their heads as they walked to the SUV. He sensed her awe and confusion over what he’d done to Luis’s mother. He didn’t want to worry Cynthia. That had never been the idea. There was no way he was just going to leave and let that woman beat her kids any more if he could do something as simple as change her thinking. Cynthia truly didn’t realize how much power he had inside. It was better to keep it that way. He didn’t need to scare her. That was the last thing he ever wanted.
“She wasn’t going to give us any information on Luis. I just put some suggestive thoughts about parenting and taking care of her home before I retreated,” he said over the roar of the engine.
“I understand that, but she did an about face. I mean, in front of my own damn eyes,” she gasped. “You are a lot more powerful than I thought.” She blinked and gave him one of those soft smiles that could drive him to his knees. “You helped those kids. I would have done the same.”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” He slowly drove them away from the trailer park. Cynthia’s emotions overpowered the inside of the vehicle. She was grateful, happy, and if his animal and the beast were right, she was also highly turned-on.
“Stop the car,” she ordered on a quiet stretch of road.
Without hesitating, he put the SUV on park and turned to her. “What’s wrong?”
She unclipped her seatbelt and leaned forward, cupping his face in her small hands. “This is the reason you deserve to be in charge. You don’t need to use force to make things happen.”
Pleasure roared inside him. He tugged her closer, draping her on his lap. “The bureau doesn’t see it that way.”
She rubbed her lips lightly over his. “That’s because they’re stupid. And scared. You’re big. Sexy. Strong. Too much for them to handle.”
“You think I’m sexy, love?”
She placed butterfly kisses over his jaw, twirling her tongue over his bristly day’s old beard growth. “You’re fucking hot as hell.”
“Cyn,” he whispered, digging his hands into the mass of dark hair and holding her face still in his grasp. “Those are the kind of words that will get you fucked in this car.”
“Mmm,” she moaned. “I think I can live with that.”
Their lips brushed. Instant fire shot through his veins. She wiggled her ass on his lap, turning him instantly hard. Then she pushed her tongue into his mouth. Never tentative. Never scared. The way she rubbed it over his, sensually, drawing him into the erotic pull his beast wanted. Craved. Needed. He wanted his cock so far in her wet pussy, she’d be squeezing his hard-on with each of her contractions when she came.
She dug her nails into his shoulders, ran them down his arms and under his T-shirt. The bouquet of her arousal thickened at the same time her fingers traced his abs. Shudders pulsed down his spine, straight to his cock.
“James…” She moaned, rocking on his lap. “Fuck me. Here. Now. Do it.”
Fucking hell he wanted that too. It wasn’t the time though. He wanted her on a bed. Spread open and showing her body to him. Displayed for his pleasure. He wanted to eat her pussy, feel her body give with the force of her release. Then he wanted to push deep inside her and claim her all over again.
He pulled away from her. Hell did that hurt. Both his wolf and the beast wanted a taste of her. Now. Though he’d gladly let her body dictate his actions, now wasn’t the time. They had work to do. She would regret later that she let her desires stop them from searching for her cousin. Tonight would be soon enough.
“Cyn, love,” he groaned.
She nibbled on his jaw and raked her nails over his nipples. “Hmm?”
“We should try to figure out who we want to speak to next.” He lifted her off his lap and deposited her in her seat again.
She blinked aroused eyes at him. “You’re right.” She cleared her throat, ran a shaky hand through her hair, and adjusted in her seat. “Let’s go have lunch at that diner and decide what we should do next.”
* * *
Cyn stepped away to the ladies' room when his cell phone rang.
“Brock,” he growled out, unhappy with the caller.
“Where is Vega, and why isn’t she answering my calls?” Galvez spit out.
Brock tried to keep from breaking the phone into pieces in his hand. Not only did he hate that Galvez was trying to contact Cyn, even though she didn’t report to him, but the man had an attitude in need of serious adjustment. Seemed like every time they had a conversation, Galvez knew just what to say to piss him off.
“If she’s not answering you, then she probably doesn’t want to speak to you. Why are you asking me?”
“Because,” Galvez bellowed, “I know there’s something going on between you two. I could tell the first time you saw each other.” Something slammed on the other side of the line. “I don’t like it. You keep your relationship professional, and we won’t have any problems.”
Brock squeezed the fork in his hand, bending the metal in half as if it were a mere piece of paper. “So now your job is to be involved in our personal lives?”
“I don’t give a shit about your personal life,” Galvez sputtered out. “I care about hers.”
What the fuck? That was way too much interest from Galvez toward Cyn. His Cyn. “You’re not even her boss. What do you want with her?”
He wished Galvez was in front of him, so he could figure out why he was so interested Cyn. At that moment, jealousy put all sorts of thoughts in his head, and his animal growled inside, restless.
Galvez cursed. “That’s not your business.”
Oh, yes it was his business. He’d find out why Galvez was so intent on reaching Cyn.
“I need to speak to Vega!” He ordered.
“Then that’s your problem. It’s a long weekend. She’s probably not interested in dealing with you today.” He curled his hand on the booth table, until his fingers started to leave imprints on the metal.
Something broke on Galvez’s side of the line, the loud crack jabbing at Brock’s sensitive ear. “Don’t fuck with me, Brock. If you speak to Vega, tell her I need her.”
Over his dead body. “Listen to me carefully, Galvez. I don’t know what your obsession is with Vega, but I’d be real careful if I were you. She’s not alone.”
“That’s right, she’s not.” Galvez threw back. “That’s something you should remember.”
The phone line went dead. He was still trying to calm the surge of power dancing over his fingertips, to stop the growls that built in the back of his throat when Cyn returned from the restroom and met his gaze. Her eyes widened, and her face paled.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Her head swung from side to side, glancing at the others in the diner before she rushed to sit across from him in the booth.
“Nothing, why?” He hated that his voice was deep and rough, a sure sign his animal wanted out.
“Nothing? Your eyes are red, James. You’re pissed as hell, and I don’t even need to look at you to know it. What’s wrong? Is it Roxy? Do you have news about her?” She bit her lip and squeezed his hands on the table, the heat from her touch instantly soothing his beast. “You can tell me. I won’t freak out.”
He hated that he’d made her so worried. She didn’t deserve to be upset over a missing family member. He knew she had a good heart, a good soul. Yes, he’d thought about digging into her mind to know her reasons for leaving him. That wasn’t what he wanted. Her words would be what made the difference. Her expression when she told him her reasons. “No, love. It was just Galvez calling to ask about you.”
Her shoulders dropped. She pushed the coffee cup to the side, cupping her cheek with her hand. “Oh, him,” she said coolly, eyes flashing a dark green he knew meant anger. “What the hell did he want?”
He growled, not liking the fact Galvez put Cyn in a bad mood. “To talk to you.”
“He’s a pain in my ass,” she growled. She sat up straight in her seat, frustration floating over her features. “Always trying to tell me what to do. He just called me like five minutes ago wanting to know if I was fine. I don’t need a babysitter. He’s constantly telling me not to get into any trouble. I’m not on his clock right now.” She lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “What I really wish is that I wouldn’t have been so distant from Roxy. Maybe if she were having a problem she would have told me about it,” she muttered.
The remorse he heard in her voice all but tore him to pieces. Twinges of frustration poked at him. He wished they’d find her cousin soon. The longer they went without news, the more likely they wouldn’t find her alive. The more likely Cyn would be hurting from it. Back when they’d been together in college, she’d only spoken of her grandmother, never wanting to delve into family discussions. He always thought it was because she wasn’t close to them, or maybe because they didn’t get along. Now he wondered if there was more to it than that. She was clearly feeling a lot of guilt over not being in more communication with her aunt and cousin.
“Why weren’t you closer?” He ventured into the topic of her family carefully, with his voice pitched to an almost bored level.
The waitress showed up to take their dessert orders before she answered.
She glanced down at her hands and shrugged, her lips tipping downward. “I guess I never really thought about it.”
She lied. That fact alone hurt him more than if she would have slapped him. It meant she didn’t trust him enough to speak the truth. “If you don’t want to talk about it then don’t, but don’t lie to me.”
She blinked repeatedly, guilt flashing in the back of her now golden eyes. “Okay, wrong choice of words.” She placed her hands over his again, the warmth of her palms soothing the beast inside him with that small touch. “It’s not that I didn’t think about it. It's that my family is very difficult to understand. They’ve always been…different. You see—”
A shadow fell over the table at that moment. “Cynthia?”
Brock bit back a growl at the intrusion. For the first time in a long time, Cyn had decided to open up and the realtor had just shut down that opening.