Chapter Twelve

Adrian

 

She was distracted.

Hyper-focused on her job, yet at the same time, distracted, for all the fucking sense it made. It was almost as if she was a lightbulb, working on a switch.

On for five minutes, off for ten.

If I had to watch her jab her straw into the cherry in her glass one more time, I was going to lose my fucking mind.

Perrie sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. We’d been in this bar an hour, and I was running out of patience with her inability to hold her focus for very long. Mostly because when she did, you could see the cogs in her mind working as she laid everything out before her and assessed the people around us.

I didn’t know what had happened—maybe it was me—but something was under her skin.

I could tell, because she was fucking under mine.

Ever since she’d skipped out on our conversation in Polka’s to use the restroom in an obvious escape ploy, I’d done nothing but think about her.

Think about the sadness in her eyes.

The anger when I’d shown up at her house.

The way her breath had hitched when I’d touched her lip to wipe away a lingering bit of sauce.

The way I’d kept my thumb on her mouth for a little too long, because if I hadn’t, I’d have kissed the hell out of her right there and then.

The way I wanted to do nothing but spin her around on this goddamn barstool and do just that—kiss her.

Annoyance was definitely preferable.

Kissing her was the line. The big, black, fucking line that screamed with neon lights. The one I couldn’t cross. Not now, and not ever.

I’d been there. I’d done that. Leopards like her never changed their spots, and that meant I’d never do it again.

“Can you focus?” I snapped when she jabbed the cherry with her straw one final time.

“I’m trying,” she ground out, dropping the straw into the glass with frustration. “I have a lot on my mind today.”

“Get it out, then.”

She rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath. I could have sworn it sounded an awful lot like she was calling me a flip-flopping bastard, whatever the hell that meant, but it wasn’t clear enough to call her on it.

Ignoring it instead, I leaned against the bar and scanned the room. I’d never admit it, but I was tiring of this job. Of the late nights, of never getting a full night’s sleep, of spending more hours inside smoky, dank casinos and bars than I did anywhere else.

I missed when I was just a cop doing my normal job. No matter that I had a private interest in getting these people off the streets of my city, I still missed not having to spend all my time here in places I hated.

If only I were brave enough to step off the task squad.

But no, my fucking hero complex kept me here.

The same damn thing kept the woman in front of me out of jail.

“I need the bathroom.” Perrie slid off her chair and walked past me without a word.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. That was the second time in the last hour. It was another distraction tactic and one I was growing very tired of. There wasn’t much I could do without her, and she knew it.

Was this another way she could get out of us making arrests? Was she slipping away anytime she saw somebody we could arrest? Was she giving them a chance to escape?

Leaving it up to fate, maybe? If they were still there after she’d come back, then she’d tell me?

Whatever it was, was ridiculous. I didn’t have the patience for it. Zac hadn’t mentioned his mom since our conversation in my office, but the problem was that every single time I saw a prostitute, I saw her face on their body.

The constant reminder of why I did this job.

The only person I hadn’t seen her face on was Perrie. I didn’t fucking know why, and that bugged me, too.

Bugged me more than I ever wanted to admit. I was all over the fucking place—an emotional mess of royal proportions. Nothing made sense to me, and I was thinking that I really needed a vacation.

Unfortunately, duty called before that.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. When I pulled it out, I saw it was a message from Sam.

 

Sam: Arrested Monica Kennedy.

Me: Good. Where next?

Sam: Got a tip that one of the strippers in Goldies is doing overtime.

Me: Thirty minutes to get information then you get out of there. Understood?

Sam: Got it.

 

I let go of a long breath. My nostrils flared as I tucked my phone back into my office. Goldies was risky. It was the original strip club set up by the Fox family way back when, and that family had nothing if not a damn good eye for spotting undercover cops.

If Benedict Fox got wind of us sniffing around, he’d cause a hell of a scene. As for Damien Fox—who knew? I’d never had to deal with him aside from passing meetings, but from the way Perrie balked every time his name was mentioned, I had to assume he was much the same as his father.

Perrie sighed as she took her seat back in front of me. She’d forgone the skintight dress tonight, instead opting for a black and gray number that hugged her to the waist before flaring out. It was shorter, and the high neck was no less tempting that the plunging one of the other night.

“Better now?” I asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

She turned and looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. “What’s bitten your balls?”

“Whatever bullshit you’re playing tonight.”

Her eyes darkened, and her lips twitched together in a little purse. “Don’t go there, Adrian. Trust me when I say I’m not in the mood.”

“You leave your personal life at the door. You don’t bring it in here with you. Mope in the car—not in the bar.”

“Sounds like a feisty life motto,” she said drolly. “Like I said—leave it, okay? I just want to do my job. If I need a few more breaks, let me take them. I’m not hurting anyone.”

“You’re hurting my patience.”

“You’re mistaken in thinking I give a flying fuck about your patience.”

The snap in her voice had drawn the attention of a few people around us. Something I didn’t want—attention.

I pushed our drinks back across the bar and grabbed hold of her hand. Yanking her off the seat before she even had a second to protest what I was doing, I pulled her through the people and out of the casino. The lobby was still too full of people, so I kept us moving until we were outside in a small garden area. Bright flowers escaped from between green leaves, and dim, outdoor lighting counteracted the setting of the sun.

“What the hell was that?” She snatched her hand out of my grip, her dark eyes alight with anger.

“That was you drawing too much attention to us.”

“Oh, yeah, because grabbing my hand and hauling me away like a caveman was the way to avoid a little extra.”

I stared at her flatly for a moment. Then, I took a step toward her. She wavered as if she wanted to step back, and for a second, I thought she would.

She didn’t. She planted her feet, straightened her spine, and looked me dead in the eye. “What the hell is your problem with me tonight?”

“I just made it perfectly clear,” I said in a low voice, one much lower than hers. “You’re unfocused. Your head isn’t where it needs to be. You keep disappearing for bathroom breaks. I’ve never seen so much bullshit in my life.”

“You have no idea what I’m dealing with right now.”

“Your personal life has no place where we are right this second.”

“Excuse me for being unable to just flip the emotional switch and pretend like I don’t care.”

“Don’t care about what? Have you considered I might be more understanding if you tried talking to me?”

She averted her eyes before bringing them back, but the original fire was diminished. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her chest shuddered with her exhale. “I don’t want to tell you another damn thing about me, Adrian Potter. You already know too much.”

But that was the thing, wasn’t it?

I didn’t know nearly enough about her.

“Then my point still stands. Get yourself together. You’re not being paid to fuck off, Perrie. You’re being paid to locate hookers.”

Now, she took that step back.

Stepped back.

Hooked her purse strap over her arm.

Held her hands out, palms up, wrists together.

Expression flat and unfeeling, eyes cold and detached, she said in the most unemotional voice I’d ever heard, “Stop looking. You already found your hooker for the night.”

I looked at her hands. Pink nails dug into her palms where she’d balled them into fists. Teeny, tiny scars dotted the inside of her left wrist, but her right one was unblemished, completely perfect in comparison.

Slowly, I reached and took her hands in mine. I pulled her arms apart and lowered her hands to her sides, then released her.

“I’m not arresting you. If I wanted you in jail, you’d already be there,” I said quietly.

“Save yourself the hard work.”

“I’m not arresting you, Perrie. End of.”

She lifted her hands once more, fists ready, wrists already turning upward.

I grabbed them.

I pulled her into me.

And I kissed her.

I pressed my rough lips against her soft ones, hearing and feeling her sharp intake of air. She froze against me, but she didn’t move. She didn’t move and she didn’t fight.

She kissed me back.

Releasing her wrists, I cupped the sides of her face as her hands fisted the sides of my shirt. Sweetness battled with the faint taste of mint as she parted her lips and our tongues met. She leaned into me a little more, grasping at more of my shirt at the same time my fingers snaked around her neck and teased her hair.

My thumbs brushed her jaw as our tongues battled. Heat thumped through my body ferociously, desire and need forming an almost undeniable urge as blood rushed right down to my cock.

This was wrong, and I knew it. Just minutes ago, I’d been telling myself this was the line I wouldn’t cross, but here I was, crossing it and doing nothing to stop myself.

Truth was, I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop kissing her. She tasted of more than sweetness and mint. She tasted of obsession and she smelled like addiction.

She felt like danger.

Not a danger to anyone else, but to me. I’d kissed her but once and thought about it a thousand times, yet now, with my lips on hers, it felt as though I’d just found my Achilles Heel.

Her name was Perrie Fox. She had blond hair and dark eyes and a killer body and a soul just waiting for someone brave enough to understand her.

Perrie broke the kiss with a tiny gasp, but she didn’t release my shirt. I rested my forehead against hers and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. That was so fucking wrong—a huge ass mistake, yet I didn’t regret it.

How could I? My heart was pumping faster than it had in years, and never, ever had I so badly wanted to push a woman against a wall and fuck her where anyone could find us at any second.

“That was unexpected,” she whispered.

I laughed. It was the only thing I could do. She’d summed it up so damn perfectly, because I hadn’t expected me to do that, either.

“Uh, I’m sorry?” I offered, letting my hands fall from her neck, no matter how little I wanted to.

“Are you sorry?” She peered up at me through her eyelashes, finally letting go of my shirt and stepping back.

“Do you want me to be?”

“Is this a trick question?”

I paused. “I don’t know. That’s why I wanted you to answer.”

She opened her mouth, then stilled. A blush rose up her cheeks before she finally answered me. “You don’t have to be sorry. Unless you want to be.”

My lips tugged to the side in a half-smile. “I don’t want to be.”

“Okay. Good.” Perrie nodded her head once, almost as if she were telling herself it was okay for her to not want me to be sorry. “So…Should we go back to work now?”

I glanced at my watch. We’d been gone ten minutes, and my phone was buzzing in my pocket.

Sam.

“Hey,” I answered. “What’s up?”

“They wouldn’t let us in,” he answered grimly. “We waited in line, but we couldn’t even flash our badges because it’d give us away.”

“Not a lot you could do even then.” I stepped away from Perrie, holding my finger up. “How reliable was your information?”

“Rumor mill, if I’m honest. One of the girls we took in last night offered up some places we should check out as part of a deal.”

“What fucking deal?”

“No fucking deal, but she doesn’t know that.” He chuckled. “Goldies was one of ‘em.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve barked up this tree. They run a squeaky-clean ship, Sam, you know that.”

“Nah. There’s no way they’ve been as successful as they are without breaking some laws along the way.”

“We can agree to disagree.”

“Whatever. We’re gonna head over to the Milton Casino and see if we can get lucky. Will we be seeing you and your lovely lady friend?”

“Fuck yourself. I’ll let you know.” I hung up and stuffed my phone back into my pocket before I had a chance to hear his laughter. I had no idea how I put up with his shit—and he was also the reason Zac never caught me swearing. I got it all out of my system at work while dealing with my best friend.

“So. Goldies, huh?” Perrie didn’t even try to hide her amusement.

“You heard that?”

“I’ve heard elephants quieter than him on the phone.” She smirked.

“Yep. Goldies. I’m guessing then you heard the whole thing?”

“About him being told by someone trying to break a deal? Yep. Getting turned away? Yep. Good luck to him. He isn’t getting past security at any of those clubs.”

“Why not?”

She laughed. “Back inside first. Nobody wants to know the Fox family secrets, except absolutely everyone.” She winked over her shoulder and headed back inside.

“One—that makes no sense. Two—we’re gonna discuss it in an overcrowded bar instead?” I caught up with her and touched my hand to her back.

“Of course. Less chance of anyone who actually cares being able to overhear you.” She shot me a half-smile, and the look in her eye reminded me that she was way smarter and savvier in this side of the city than I would ever be.

A flash of ruthlessness with a side of arrogance.

She’d seen both sides—she knew how they both worked, what made both the glitz and glamor tick and the seedy, sexy underbelly roll.

She was not the woman you underestimated, but I’d been doing just that.

Back at the bar, I motioned for another pair of drinks to be brought over. Perrie situated herself in a stool in the corner, closest to the casino, and crossed one leg over the other.

“Talk,” I demanded, taking the seat right in front of her.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and with her elbow on the bar, rested her chin on her hand. “For as long as I can remember, Benedict has had the most complex screening process you can imagine for his security. He’s never trusted the police, and that distrust got worse after my sister died and—”

“Your sister died?”

“Uh, yeah.” She bit her lower lip and dragged it between her teeth. “About eight years ago now. Can I carry on?”

“Sure.”

“He’s always had people of interest be known to all the security. They have to literally memorize the faces of most of the police force on a semi-regular basis. Sam is never gonna get in there—neither are you.”

I rubbed my hand down my face. “You’re sure about this?”

“Sure as I can be.” She smirked. “I’m the one who used to print the info for the security team.”

“Fair enough.”

“If you really want to get into Goldies, you need to send a new officer in. A total rookie who’s been on the force less than three months.”

I blinked at her. That was a terrible idea. “Can you get in there?”

“With a good enough disguise,” she admitted slowly. Very. Slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I want to. In fact, I can’t think of a worse idea than that one right there.”

Our drinks were put in front of us, and I handed the tender a bill with a, “Keep the change,” then turned back to Perrie. “If it really makes you that uncomfortable…But I don’t want to exactly send a rookie in there, either. We don’t have them on our team for this. They’re not skilled enough.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Isn’t that why I’m here? Because you’re all useless?”

Goddamn it. Her being right was becoming an annoying regularity.

“All right, all right. I’ll consider it.”

She smiled serenely, her eyes twinkling. “I need the bathroom again.”

I rolled my eyes.

She slid off her chair gracefully and placed a hand on my shoulder. Leaning into me so that her hair brushed my cheek, she whispered, “The blond in black, ten o’clock by the slot machines. Send someone over there. She looks lonely.”

I spun on the stool to face her, but all I got was the faint whiff of her perfume and a view of her ass as she sauntered away to the bathroom.

It could have been worse.