All is Lost (All Series, Book 2) (37 page)

“
Will you promise me that you will
not leave this house or the club without Kole while I’m out of
town?” I ask, placing my hand gently under chin, tipping her face
up to look at me. Storms brew in her beautiful eyes, but the
toughness I love about her jumps forward.

Sighing softly, she answers, “Yes.”

“
If I could get out of leaving, you
know I would, right?” I compel, staring deep into her glistening
eyes.

“
I know,” Breesan’s lips turn up
into a weak smile before adding, “but you must go. I’m just…going
to miss you.” A soft chuckle escapes her slightly parted lips and
stubborn determination encroaches her beautiful eyes before she
continues, “I’ll do exactly as you ask, if you promise to be
safe.”

“
Then I know you will do as I
request,” waving my hand dismissively, I reassure her, “I take my
job very seriously, but for you I’ll make sure to take every
precaution possible.”

Lowering my lips to hers, I kiss her softly
sealing our deal. Afterward, she wraps both arms around my neck,
tucks her face against my chest and sighs contently.

***

Our private jet lands at Key West
International early the next morning. We take the rental car to
meet with our informant, a homeless guy living in the park off
Atlantic on the east side of the island. The mid summer sun blares
through the lightly tinged front windshield of the ten year old
sedan as we pull into an empty space at the back of a vacant
commercial building adjacent to the park. Most of the windows are
busted and covered with black plastic. The front door is off its
hinges and propped against the outside wall. No one has done
business in this place in a long time.

Sam climbs out of the car when she spots a guy
skulking out of the doorway scanning both directions then eyes her
suspiciously. He nods a couple of times and she glances over her
shoulder at me indicating we found our guy. I check my duty weapon
and ease out from behind the steering wheel. As I approach, the
man’s attention shifts to me and he becomes defensive, taking a
rigid stance and indicating he isn’t going to cooperate easily with
us.

“
Who’s dat?” Directing his question
to Sam, the dirty vagrant glowers nervously at me.

“
He’s my partner, Investigator
Marcus Walker.” Sam’s voice is low and tender. “We were told you
have some information for us. Is there somewhere we can go to get
out of this heat?”

Grunting loudly, he peers back at the
dilapidated building before shrugging his shoulders and staggering
back through the entryway. My nerves begin jumping around
erratically warning me that following him into these ruins is
probably a really bad idea. Hoping that it is only because I am
here with my sister, I shrug it off and duck through the spider web
covered entrance, following Sam and the old guy down a filthy, damp
hallway.

The putrid smell of heavy drug usage blasts me
upon joining them in a tiny room that most likely in its former
life was used as a supply room. In the front corner a desk is
pushed against the wall with a basket sticking out from under it
filled with his baubles, including bundles of copper, drug
paraphernalia and electronics that are no doubt stolen. In this
world, noosed around the neck by drugs, shamelessly stealing
anywhere and from anyone is the norm. Crossing the room I stand
behind Sam, who has taken the only seat while the guy hoists
himself on top of the desk.

“
So, ya both are Walkers,” he says,
staring between us, “You a couple?”

A small laugh escapes Sam at him implying that
because we share the same last name we are married.

“
No. Just a coincidence,” she says
taking the lead due to her experience and his uneasiness with
me.

“
Humph, well I’m not sure if I
wanna deal wit’ him.”

“
You’ll deal with both of us or the
arrangement you made with the DEA to lessen the charges for your
involvement is no longer on the table,” Sam threatens.

“
Fat lot a good dats gonna do me, I
gots charges with the county on some bogus possession of forged
instrument and I don’t see dem doing a damn thing to make dat go
away.”

“
Tell us what you know. If your
information pans out, I’ll contact a friend to see if he can pull
some strings,” she bargains cleverly.

The guy gives some sketchy information about
another “friend” of his, who knows a guy, which worked with another
buddy, who fell into a job working for Dr. A, or at least working
with one of his minions. It all sounds like a crock of shit to me
and I am really pissed that he robbed my time away from Breesan. I
cannot help feeling like it was a mistake leaving her behind while
she remains a sitting target for the mother fuckers who want her
dead.

The only thing that makes me feel a slight bit
better is leaving her in the capable hands of Kole. Knowing he
secretively has a crush on Breesan, I wisely decide to double up
the efforts of keeping her safe and before leaving I enlisted
Morgan’s help. No, he’s not qualified to protect her like Kole, but
Morgan will make sure Kole doesn’t put the moves on her while I am
in the furthest point south of the United States, dealing with this
goat roping.

During our talk, after he returned home I
could tell something changed in Morgan. I am not stupid enough to
believe that he has given up on pursuing Breesan, but something
about his whole behavior is different…off. Leaving out details, Sam
said he confided in her about what happened after he took off from
the grad party. She also believes that he may have had the hell
scared out of him. Whatever it is, I can’t trust him fully with
Breesan, but for now I am forced to trust him some.

“
I’m beat,” Sam groans while
stretching across her double bed. After finishing up the meeting we
checked into the overpriced, historic resort a few blocks away from
the park, wanting to stay in the vicinity of our
informant.

“
Me too,” I agree, feeling every
bit of the twenty-eight hours that I’ve been awake. “Do you want to
go out for dinner or order in room service?”

“
I may be too tired to stay awake
for it.” She yawns, proving her point. “You might convince me if
you order a cuppa.”

I smile, hearing the familiar term,
“Done.”

About forty-five minutes later, Sam hops out
of the shower just as the porter delivers our Cuban sandwiches and
Sam’s favorite beverage. After I tip him and close the door, she
nearly clobbers me getting her refreshments. I laugh at how quickly
her spirits lift with such a mundane cuisine.

“
Hmm, so good,” she mumbles,
sipping her tea after taking a huge bite of her
sandwich.

Wanting to engage her in conversation while
she’s revitalized, I cut straight to the chase. “Will anything come
from the crap info he gave us today?”

“
Yeah.” Smirking, she bobs her head
as she chews the last bite of her sandwich. “I am a tech guru
remember.” She counters confidently, knowing that I am always
astounded by her abilities with computers and surveillance. “He
gave me more than enough information to work with.” Swallowing down
the last of her tea, Sam smiles like a silly ass, “Especially, from
his cell.”

“
He had a cell? That surprises me.
As bad as that junkie’s habit appears I can’t imagine him holding
onto anything of value. I guess he needs one to get in touch with
his pusher. What do you have in mind?”

“
Can’t tell you all my secrets
little brother, but I will let you know that after I stored my
number in his phone, I flipped through his call log. He doesn’t
have many contacts. But the ones he has will tell me all of his
secrets, without even realizing it. I’ll just do some technical
voodoo and voila, we’ll have our contact.” She smiles proudly
before continuing, “He was very cryptic, like he thought he was
007, which really pissed me off. Luckily, I don’t need to break his
code to get to the friend of the buddy, of the blah, blah, blah.
I’ll have him once I crank up my laptop and get a dump on his
phone.”

“
Nice. Are you up for it tonight?
Because I’d like to get this shit over with and get back home
straight away,” I beg anxiously.

Sitting beside me on the sofa, legs curled
under her body, Sam tips her head to the side and eyes me
suspiciously. She knows damn well that I am ready to get back to
Breesan and that it is killing me to leave her with my
brother.

“
I’ll give you credit, you are
taking all of this much better than I expected.”

Not wanting to tip my hand too quickly, I
feign ignorance, “What are you talking about sis?”

“
Shut up.” Chuckling, she narrows
her eyes at me and shakes her head. “You know you are freaking out
about leaving Breesan in Morgan’s hands…”

“
She’s not in his hands,” I bark,
cutting off her thought.

Raising her hands in surrender, she places one
on my arm in an attempt to soothe me. “Sorry, I guess I was
wrong.”

“
Yes, you are!” I confirm, feeling
the anger rapidly boiling up in my chest.

“
No, I mean about you taking it so
well. Apparently, talking about it is a bad idea. Let’s change the
subject.” She insists still laughing.

“
I hate it. I don’t want her out of
my sight, and leaving her with him is fucking killing me. If he
tries something…” I trail off, releasing her hand and scrubbing
mine through my hair. I can’t stand the thought of him near her,
but I trust Breesan, something I couldn’t fathom with
Elise.

“
He’ll get shot down. Just like
every time before you two were a couple. Breesan’s a good girl, too
good for him. Not that I don’t think Morgan deserve a good girl.
It’s just not Breesan. And she doesn’t feel anything except
friendship for him, Marcus.”

Feeling my anger plateau with her emphatic
words, I turn my head toward her and find that she is studying me.
The tension in my body is wound tight, my hair is disheveled, and
my damn right leg rhythmically bounces uncontrollably to the
pounding beat of blood coursing through my body. Leaning back
against the large stiff sofa, I cross my arms over my chest loosely
and release a loud breath through my nearly locked jaw.

I have got to get my shit
together
.

“
Why didn’t you talk to me about
her? The one thing I love most about our relationship is that you
have always been open with me. But when you started dating
her
, you shut down. I know you didn’t want Morgan to know
that you were seeing her and that’s understandable. I just thought
it was different between us.”

“
What?” Feeling completely rocked
by what she’s saying, I actually flinched at her pained accusation.
“We haven’t had a free minute to discuss what’s happening between
us, much less an opportunity for me to share with you.”

“
Not Breesan,” She says, drawing
out the time between saying the other name, as if she really
doesn’t want to say it loud. It’s not like Elise will suddenly
appear just by mentioning her. “Elise.”

Sam is right though. I never spoke to her
about Elise. I can’t really explain what truly went on in my head
when she and I first began, but something in me warned that I
needed to keep our relationship under wraps from everyone. Groaning
internally, I feel my leg bounce even faster and consciously fight
the desire to storm out of the room as an old memory inundates my
mind.

It’s a cold morning and I’m up
before the sun for my jiu-jitsu class. During the week I run ten
miles in the mornings and end the night at the gym near university
lifting weights. As much as I can see the positive effects on my
sculpted frame from my normal routine, it doesn’t offer a mental
challenge at all. So about six months ago I started training in the
Brazilian art of karate.

Picking up my gym bag as I pass
the bedroom, I bang hard on the door, “Morgan!”

“
What?” he croaks with a scratchy
voice filled with sleep.

“
I’m out of here. There was a
message on the answering machine for you to call dad when you get
your ass up. He needs to confirm your travel itinerary for next
week. Call him Morg!”

“
Yeah,” his voice is muffled from
the pillow.

I bang on the door again then head
out of the apartment. He didn’t drag in until three this morning
and a couple of hours sleep is not nearly enough to deal with
Barret Walker. I’ll have to wake him again after my class or it
will be me dealing with dad. And there is nothing I hate more -
especially, when Morgan is the one he wants interning with him at
Walker Corporation, UK, and not me.

It’s still dark out and there are
only a couple of cars in the parking lot when I arrive at the gym.
I spot my instructor, Parker McLaurin walking in as I approach the
doorway. On his arm is one of the most beautiful women I have ever
seen. She hasn’t looked at me yet; all of her focus is devoted to
the cell phone in her hand. I follow behind them and notice that
his hand is snaked around her waist, his fingers digging into her
hip, but she’s completely unaffected.

She’s tall and thin with bouncy,
red curls pulled tight into a ponytail hanging down to her ass. And
damn, that ass is right plump. Her abs and arms are defined, but
not overly done. She has a natural tan complexion with freckles
lightly scattered all over her body, which is barely covered by the
gray and green sports bra and tiny green spandex shorts. Still
attentively focused on her cell as we reach the front desk, she
walks around and sits on the stool next to Parker, who leans
against the counter.