Above Protection (Imperfect Heroes Book 1) (24 page)

“Yes.”

“Did she have to testify today?” I
asked.

“No.”

I breathed a silent sigh. “Cool. You
tell her about Shane Watson?”

“Yes.”

One word answers, awesome. The vic was
probably in the room.

“You flirting with her,
Dockins?”

“Absolutely not.”

Two words this time.
Sweet!

“Good, ‘cause I’ll fuck you
up.”

He chuckled. “Noted.”

“See you in court tomorrow.” I hung
up.

I loved fucking with that guy. He was
like 50 and looked more like an accountant than an
agent.

Then I dialed the prepaid cell from my
desk. We had no caller ID so the screen always read “unavailable”
when I called someone. The phone rang three times and someone
answered.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s this?” I said.

“Who the fuck is this?” he said
back.

I bit back a smile. “This is Orange.”
I thought of the stupidest street name I could.

“What the fuck you want,
Orange?”

“What do you got? Just looking to
score, you know.”

He sniffed and said, “Well you got the
wrong dude. I ain’t no dealer.”

“Yeah?” I said, mustering up more
bullshit, “Well I ain’t interested in getting high, dumbass. I need
you to take care of a guy.”

That seemed to get his attention. “I
ain’t doin’ this over the phone. We gotta meet.”

I chuckled. “I agree. Name the
place.”

“The docks, 11 tomorrow
tonight,
Mr. Orange
.”

“It’s just Orange. And I need your
name so I know who the fuck to ask for.”

“Ace. See you tomorrow.” He hung
up.

I smiled and powered up my computer,
knowing I needed to type my report from today. Then I had some more
phone calls to make.

Chapter 28

Rayanne

I pushed my food around on my plate. I
was back to being sick to my stomach and ill with nerves. I can’t
believe that asshole had escaped. What the hell? A tear dropped
into my mashed potatoes and I shoved the plate away and stood up. I
went into the kitchen to clean the dish and utensils Agent Dockins
had used. I liked having him here, he was sweet and reminded me of
my daddy. But he didn’t make me feel safe and protected like Duke
did.

Nobody did. Not even that Agent
Diaz.

“I’m going to bed.”

Dockins, remote in hand, gave me a
sideways overhand wave and continued to channel surf. “Goodnight,
Rayanne. Sleep tight!”

Okay, Mister
Rogers.

At least his gun was next to him. I
really needed to get me one of those. My dad had plenty, and after
this shit was over, I was so going to go over there and talk him
into giving me a handgun to keep at home.

You won’t need one if Duke
is sleeping next to you, silly!
my
subconscious teased.

“Piss off,” I told it.

Talking to myself. Yeah, that’s
healthy.

I yanked off my clothes, threw them in
the hamper in my closet, and tossed on a night shirt. Making sure
my window was locked and there was nobody lurking outside, I
climbed into the cool sheets alone. A glance at my bedside clock
told me it was only 9:22 p.m. I fumbled around the nightstand for
the remote and turned on the TV.

The flickering lights from the program
gave me no comfort. I rolled onto my right side and stared at the
empty side of the bed with my hand under my head as warmth and
comfort. The bed was pristinely made, flat and empty as I stared at
it. Past the bed was a sliding glass door that led to a small
balcony where I had a perfect view of the downtown baseball stadium
– and on a clear day – the gulf waters. I wondered what life would
be like if Duke Hawthorne were lying beside me, his chest heaving
up and down in exhaustion as he’d just made love to me.

My body would be trembling beside him,
my legs made of gelatin from having been spread open for so long,
my head on his chest. My short blonde hair would be splayed above
my head while he stroked his fingers through it in appreciation of
the ride I’d just taken him on.

I felt a familiar yet foreign heat
press down from my lower belly to the core of my body. It was
scorching now, needing to be touched, doused, released. My fingers
found it before I could analyze whether or not I should be doing
it.

Duke’s body materialized in my mind.
His massive broad shoulders that bunched and moved as he lowered
himself onto me. His hot kiss seared me all the way down to my very
soul. His hard body pressed onto me, and as I raised my hips to
meet his, he didn’t disappoint.

My fingers found the spot that could
release my pent-up frustrations. My demons. I worked the spot
faster as if I was being paid to do so.

The climb was excruciating and
wonderful. It brought me up, then down, then up to a crescendo of
screaming violins, then back down to the peaceful waters of a piano
lullaby lulling me to sleep. After that – sleep sounded damn
good.

My head burrowed into the soft down of
the pillow and I tried to think of Duke’s rare softness instead of
his usual hard edges as I drifted off to sleep.

Day three of court. Since Shane was on
the loose again, they’d doubled my detail. I was now escorted by 4
agents instead of 2. Even though they did not think Shane would
come after me since I’d already testified, and that from what the
hospital staff had told them, Shane was in no position to hurt
anyone, as he was still very sick. He did obviously still have
people working with him so they weren’t taking chances. Plus, I now
ran the risk of him trying to kill me for no other reason than
revenge if his father and uncle get convicted. What a nightmare. I
stared unseeing and unhearing at more expert witnesses on the
stand. The only happiness I got was knowing Duke was again sitting
next to me, his hand intertwined around mine. The way his thumb
stroked the top of my hand gave me comfort. The four agents were
strategically placed around me. Duke had taken the place of one but
the other sat on the opposite side. If he had seen us holding
hands, he didn’t seem fazed. Two were seated in front of me, and
one behind me. I had to admit I felt safe and loved. The only thing
I didn’t like was the way Elmo had turned his head and smirked at
me a couple of times. Evil bastard. I know why he was doing it,
too. He somehow knew Shane had escaped. Both times Elmo had looked
at me, Duke’s hand squeezed mine tighter and I could feel him tense
and hear his breathy gasp. I didn’t have to look at the sexy man
who was comforting me to know he wanted to kill Elmo
Watson.

The judge speaking captured my
attention as she addressed the jury. “I think we all need a rest
until tomorrow. Court is adjourned.”

I looked at my watch, it wasn’t even
noon yet. Turning to the agent next to me whose name I didn’t know
or couldn’t remember, I said, “Is it all right if Agent Hawthorne
takes me home?”

His shiny black head reflected the
lights of the now noisy courtroom as he shook it back and forth. He
had kind, dark brown eyes as he said, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry but I
cannot abandon a post until informed by my supervisor.”

We were standing now, and Duke put his
hand on my arm. “It’s almost over. I trust these agents with my
life, you will be okay.” His stormy blue eyes looked straight into
mine, an unspoken promise that we’d be seeing each other again real
soon dwelling there.

I relaxed a little and said,
“Okay.”

I left with the four agents, but the
only one on my mind was the fifth one who wasn’t allowed to be with
me.

When we were back to my condo, it was
just Agent Dockins and the other guy, Jones. I made them lunch
simply to keep myself busy and they were happy when I served it to
them as they watched TV. I had made myself a grilled cheese
sandwich and managed to eat about half before I wasn’t hungry any
longer. I couldn’t stop the nerves in my stomach. Anxious about the
danger my life was still in. Anxious and frankly lovesick over
Duke. The longer we spent apart, the more I felt drawn to him like
a magnet. There was no way, when this was all over, that I was
going to be able to stay away from him. I wanted him so badly. I
needed to fall asleep wrapped up in his big, protective arms every
night. I needed to look into his eyes and know that I’d broken
through that hard shell of his. I wanted to feel proud that I had
been the one to do it. I laughed to myself as I collected the
dishes and washed them. I had no idea if Duke had been in love
before. Maybe he’d been married before. Oh, my God. Did he have any
kids? I didn’t know any of that. I was dying to find out,
though.

Please, jury, find a verdict by
tomorrow. I can’t take much more of this.

Chapter 29

Duke

After getting back to the office after
court, I knew I had to come up with some bullshit plan before the
meeting with “Ace” tonight. I also believed I was back in good
graces with Jeffrey because the look on his face when I had told
him I had a lead on the suspect who I believed had lifted Watson
from the hospital was priceless. He was completely onboard with
whatever we wanted to do to catch this piece of shit. In the end,
we made a simple decision. One of our undercovers would meet with
Ace and pretend to be Orange, while another three agents, myself
being one, would follow the dirtbag after he met with the
undercover. Seemed simple enough.

When the workday was over, I again
called to check on my girl.

My girl. Holy
shit.

“Dockins.”

“How’s the vic?”

“Alive,” he answered.

“Who’s on detail with you?” I
asked.

“Jones.”

I chuckled. “Motherfucka
Jones?”

He gasped and said, “Not
funny.”

“If the FBI had wanted you to have a
sense of humor, they would have issued you one, right?”

“Right,” he replied without missing a
beat.

“You eyeballin’ the vic’s tits,
Dockins?” I asked.

“Never.”

“Are you gay, Dockins?”

“I do not believe I have to answer
that,” he replied.

I chuckled again. “I’ll
take that as a yes.
Sweet
. Where’s the vic
now?”

“Barefoot in the kitchen where she
belongs.”

I ignored the dig. He was trying to
rile me up. “Put Jones on.”

I heard the phone get
passed.

“Jones.”

“Motherfucka, you flirting with the
vic?”

“No, sir,” he said right
away.

“Good, ‘cause I’ll fuck you up,” I
said, trying not to let the smile seep into my voice.

“Fuck off, Cowboy.”

I gasped. “Why did you call me
that?”

“Vic’s been talking. I know alllll the
shit.” He hung up, but not before I heard him laugh.

Damn.

Agent Black, whose skin matched his
name, was a super cool dude from the field office We sat in the
parking lot of the docks in a late model jet-black, fully-loaded
Cadillac which was about to be auctioned off, thanks to the
douchebag drug-dealer who’d had it confiscated by the feds.
Thankfully, there weren’t many cars around. I knew kids came out
here to fool around, but because it was a Wednesday, the lot was
mostly empty.

I used a pair of high-powered
binoculars to watch the exchange between “Ace” and our undercover
agent.

I loved this undercover.
His name was Derrick Swanson and he could look like whoever the
hell he wanted. He had tats all over his arms but not on his hands
or neck, so whether he wore a 3-piece suit or a white wife-beater
T-shirt and some sagging jeans, he was like a fucking chameleon.
Tonight he was a street thug through and through. Of course he was
wearing a wire. It was attached to his cell phone and it looked
like earbuds. Most ingenious invention
ever
. The “earbuds” hung lazily out
of his pocket and the audio was set up in Bluetooth fashion, so the
other agent and I listened to the exchange through a 2-way
radio.