Play Hard: Bad Boy Sports Romance (60 page)

“You will,” I said. “Your daughter and you are both important.”

“Don’t hate her for what she does.”

“What do you mean? She’s a writer, a journalist.”

“Talk to her,” he said. “I need to go lay down.”

“Are you okay?”

He struggled to his feet.

“I’m just tired. I need to smoke one and sleep.”

“That weed you gave me…”

“What about it?” he asked, moving toward his front door.

“It was the best I’ve ever smoked. You don’t happen to have any more, do you?”

“I do for the man who’s going to help pay my medical bills.”

“We need to talk once you get better. With your skills, there’s no reason you should have money problems.”

He stopped and opened the screen door before turning to me.

“It’s my business partners. They’re rough people.”

“Don’t tell me you’re working with the cartels.”

“They threatened trouble with my daughter unless I sold to them. She doesn’t know that either. I’m such a terrible father.”

“It’s going to be fine,” I said, walking toward him. “Let’s go inside. I’ll smoke one with you and we can talk.”

“I’ve already said too much.”

“I’m not upset, but I can help you get out from under the cartels and start making legal money. My operation is the biggest in the state.”

“I’ve heard of you before.”

I grabbed the screen door while he opened the other one. Inside, I glanced around the sparsely decorated living room.

“Let’s go to the kitchen,” he said, wandering away.

As I followed him, I wondered if Heidi had grown up in the house.

“Have you lived here long?” I asked.

“Too long.”

In the kitchen, he sat down at a rectangular wooden table. A metal box sat on top in front of him. I took a seat across from him, watching as he pulled out a bag of marijuana.

“I don’t have a lot of that plant left, but the next one is almost ready.”

“So soon?”

“I’ve been working on fast-producing plants as well as ones with a higher THC content.”

“You’ve not told the cartels or anyone else about this, have you?”

“No. You sound like my daughter. She said the same damn thing.”

“She’s a smart woman,” I said.

He rolled a joint quicker than I’d ever seen it done before.

“This plant could change the whole industry,” I said. “It’s important to keep it to yourself for now.”

“And you,” he said then lit up the joint and puffed on it.

The end glowed red.

“Well, yeah, me, but I’m going to help you.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

Why the sudden hostility?

“Not from me. I keep my word.”

He stared into my eyes while handing me the fat joint. I accepted it and took a deep hit, holding the smoke in for a few seconds. We were both silent as we passed it back and forth, the THC doing its magic quickly. Heidi wandered into my thoughts again.

“I should get going,” I said. “Call me about the doctor.”

“I will. Thanks. You’re not going to rat me out to Heidi, are you?”

I scooted my chair back then stood up.

“No. You can trust me.”

“That’s good to know,” he said.

“Don’t forget to call me. We need to get that taken care of quickly.”

“I will. Here’s the rest of that special plant.”

He lifted a clear bag with a little over a quarter ounce.

“You keep it,” I said. “Take care of yourself.”

After nodding my head, I turned and made my way out of his house. Thoughts of Heidi once again crept into my stoned mind as I got outside and headed to the stretch SUV. The sun beat down, baking me for a few seconds before I climbed into the back.

“Where to?” Keifer asked, his arm stretched across the front seat.

“Take us back home,” I said, staring out the window. “I need to think.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

He raised the partition, leaving me to my thoughts. Before I could make sense of the news I’d gotten, my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen, hoping to see Heidi’s name and smiling face in the picture I’d taken our second night of passion.

I didn’t recognize the number on the screen.
What now?

“Hello?”

“Mr. Stone,” a man said in a thick accent found south of the border.

“What do you want?” I asked. “I’m not interested in working with you guys. That’s not going to change. In fact, you’re going to be out of business in another year or two.”

“That will never happen,” he said. “There’s too much money at stake.”

“There is, but I’m getting it legally.”

“You could make so much more with us.”

The sound of his voice sickened me.

“Never. You’ve ruined too many lives.”

He laughed.

“Like you haven’t? All you Americans are hypocrites.”

“I’ll think about it, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I’m doing fine.”

“If you do not work with us, all hell will rain down on you.”

“Come at me,” I said then hung up.

Maybe it was the THC in my bloodstream or my talk with Heidi’s father, but money didn’t matter quite as much as it had a few months earlier. The thought of death rose its ugly head in my mind as Keifer drove us to my fortress of solitude.

I thought about calling Heidi, but I decided to wait for her to get in touch with me. Why hadn’t she told me the grower was her father? Something didn’t add up, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The memory of my digits inside her hot, wet pussy occupied me the rest of the ride home.

TWENTY-ONE

Heidi

Cancel Cancer

As I sat in dad’s kitchen, watching him make us each a cup of tea, I wondered why he had called me over. He appeared okay on the outside, but he had the ability to hide his emotions well, a trait I had picked up from him.

“How’s work going?” he asked as he brought over two mugs.

“Fine,” I said. “Why?”

He set one of them down in front of me then sat down on the other side of the table.

“That man you sent to me…”

“What about him?” I interrupted, freaking out.

“You should talk to him and tell him the truth.”

“Did you tell him you’re my father?”

He employed another one of his skills – changing the conversation.

“I was thinking about your mother today.”

Oh no
, I thought.
Here we go
.

While I never stopped him talking about her, after so many years, I never understood how he was so in love with her still. She was a great woman, but it wasn’t healthy for him to obsess about her.

“Yeah? Sad thoughts or happy thoughts?”

“Cancer thoughts,” he said in a serious tone then raised the mug to his mouth and took a sip.

“She fought long and hard, but it was her time to go.”

“I know, I know.” He set the blue mug down, spinning it absent-mindedly with one hand. “I have cancer.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, my heart sunk.

“Are you okay? What kind of cancer? Breast cancer is rare in men, but…”

“Skin cancer,” he said, cutting me off. “They caught it in the early stages, and I’m getting treatment.”

“Good,” I said. “Your insurance is covering everything? What can I do to help?”

“A new friend has helped me find the best skin doctor.”

“You mean a dermatologist?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever they’re called,” he said, waving his arm in front of him.

“What friend is helping you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Dad. You’re not doing anything illegal, are you?”

“What? How dare you think that about your old man,” he said with mock disgust.

“You know I’m not accusing you. Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asked, ignoring my question.

“Nice try, Dad. I asked you a question.”

“Last time I checked, I’m the parent and you’re the offspring.”

I sighed, looking into his eyes and seeing a bit of myself.

“Well? Dinner? I have steaks for the grill. Just how you like them.”

“I should get going,” I said.

“Work can wait. They caught the cancer early, so I should be fine, but do you want to take a chance of missing a cookout with your dear old dad?”

I smiled.

“Going to play the guilt angle, huh?”

“A dad’s gotta do what a dad’s gotta do.”

“I love you,” I said, sure I didn’t say it enough.

“I love you too, dear. Can you husk some corn while I fire up the grill?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He stood up.

“Terrific. Come outside to husk them, and we can talk.”

“I will,” I said.

As he walked out the back kitchen door, I thought about love, family and death, all the truly important things in life. Everything else didn’t matter in the end.

TWENTY-TWO

Heidi

Is He Evil?

The Monday after my cookout with Dad, as I sat at my desk in the office, Ron Glass approached me. I sighed, not really wanting to deal with him. He stopped beside me, creepy as ever.

“Hey, darling. How are you?”

“Not good, Ron. And not in the mood for your bullshit today. What’s up?”

“Whoa. Calm down, little lady. I’m here to help you.”

“Yeah? How?”

“You need to look into Brent Stone.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know. What have you been doing? You’ve not gotten a case on him yet.”

Asshole
, I thought, hoping that sleeping with Brent wouldn’t come back to bite me.

“Maybe that’s because he’s an honest man.”

“No man with that much money is completely honest.”

I shook my head.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“Well, you’re not. I’d appreciate it if you backed off and let me do my job.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stepping back. “Just don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

I kept my mouth shut as he walked away, not wanting to get into it with him and lose what little sense of professionalism I had left. Brent was constantly on my mind. Night and day, I thought about the way he made me feel physically, but there was something else to it.

We connected on some other level. After hearing about my father having cancer, I wondered if I should just come clean with Brent and tell him the whole truth. Would he be mad at me? I couldn’t blame the guy. I’d joined the DEA to keep the dangerous drugs off the street, but this was different.

Brent and I still hadn’t talked after the incident in his garden maze. Days had passed with no contact from him at all. The last time I had went to him first, so I became determined to make him reach out and touch base with me.

I thought about him touching me as I sat at my desk and tried to work. The question of whether or not to tell him the truth repeated itself in my mind, but I had no definitive answer. Why the hell did I mix work and pleasure? I decided to go check one last possibility.

Another agent who worked cases against the cartels had a wire up on some of their higher-level members. If Brent was indeed working with the devils, his name might have come up. It was a long shot, but I wanted to put the case to rest so I could decide whether or not to date him seriously.

Sleeping with him a couple times was one thing, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. As I headed to the basement where the wire-tappers worked, I pushed thoughts of him out of my mind.
Why am a horny teenager all of a sudden?
I chastised myself, not having an answer or excuse.

* * *

John Roberts sat back in his office chair, hands cupped behind his head, and stared at me.

“You know this is going to be extra work for me, right? I’m supposed to go fishing this weekend, and I was going to cut out early.”

“I’ll owe you big,” I said, not wanting to wait. “A fifth of scotch or a case of beer, your choice.”

He sat up and waved my offer away with a wave of his hand.