The Switch (4 page)

“Wait,”
I say more to myself than to anyone else. My eyes scan Shelby’s face, her furrowed brow, her skin pale. Eyeing the little jut of her chin, I’m distracted by a sliver of shine that catches the light from around the base of her neck. Without thinking, my hand snakes out and grabs at the shiny object around her neck. The white gold chain is heavy in my hands, its weight substantial but not enough to account for the weight in my hand. I give it another soft tug and find a large purple diamond hanging from the bottom of the chain. I slowly pick up my jaw from its place on the floor and shake my head in anger.

“
The diamond,” I say, astonished. Never could I imagine I’d have something so valuable in my hands. Then I realize why I’m here—the diamond, the gun, the running. “It’s stolen, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea what you’ve just done!” she screams.

Her anger rings in my ears. What I’ve done? I’ve done nothing but try to help this psychopath.

She tries to push me away as the tears stream down her face. “He’s going to kill her now, you idiot!” Her shouting gets louder as she dissolves into a fretful mess.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Miss Connor,” I say through my teeth. Shit. The sarge is really going to get a kick out of this one. If anyone gets hurt, I’ll be lucky to keep my fucking badge after this disaster.

“You can’t help me anyway, you idiot. Victor has half this town on his payroll. The other half is on
Silva’s payroll. Just do yourself a favor and walk away,
Officer Guilliot
.”

The thing
is, though, I can’t just walk away. I took an oath to protect and serve, and this woman is in a seriously dangerous situation. She’s even more batshit crazy than I thought if she thinks I’m just going to let her leave here.

“I can’t do that. And you have to believe me
—I’m one of the good guys. I’m not on anybody’s payroll. I really do want to help, and since you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on, it looks like you need me. So first thing’s first—we’re going to calm down and talk this over.”

I look to the table
, which has a small reading lamp that isn’t firmly attached to either the table or its neighboring wall. There’s also two heavy coasters and an old rotary phone. Too many weapons. I look at the bed, which only has a bible on the nightstand. Its lighting is provided courtesy of the lamps that
are
affixed to the wall, making them useless in a fight.

I release her wrists and back away and point to the bed. Her eyes dart between the bed and the table before she finally shuffles over, rubbing her wrists, and sits on the bed in the very center. This is her giving up and giving in. I pull up a chair to the foot of the bed, pull the gun out from the back waistband of my cargo shorts, and sit in the chair facing her.

“Start at the beginning,” I say. She takes a deep breath, stares into my eyes, and then bites her lip.

“He’s my ex
.”

CHAPTER 4

Shelby

They’re always waiting for their end.

“I BROKE UP
with him, and he got pissed, wanted to teach me a lesson. Only his guys took the wrong girl,” I say. I’m not giving away much more than I want to, only telling him the things I need to and leaving out unnecessary details—like how I worked a few runs for Victor and how I’d appeared on his arm in front of some of New Orleans’ most powerful, and sleaziest, citizens. I also leave out the part about the diamond, though it is now hanging out in the open around my neck. Officer Guilliot hasn’t demanded the necklace—yet—though I know he hasn’t forgotten, and he won’t forget. It’s just that right now he has bigger fish to fry.

“What does Victor do?”

“Imports, exports, and the like,” I say with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Importing and exporting what?” he asks, catching on
to my game.

“Art, I think,” I say. Sure, art
. . . never mind the stuff he packs into the frame of every piece. “I didn’t pay much attention to his business.”

“Right,” he
replies, deadpan, his patience wearing thin. He points at my chest. “And the diamond?”

“I don’t get Becca back if I don’t get him the diamond.”

“And you didn’t call the police and report the kidnapping?” he accuses.

My temper flares.
“Didn’t I just tell you he has half the force on his payroll? Sure, I’ll call the police and tell them their
boss
kidnapped my best friend in the entire world. I might as well dig her grave myself.” My tone is haughty and I know it, but really, I was fine until this big lug intervened. Well, kind of fine. I was working it out.

Chase
’s eyebrows knit together in concentration. He looks upset, thoughtful. Perhaps even worried.

“You do know I’m the good guy
, right?”

“Yeah sure, you’re all good guys, right?”

“I’m trying here, Shelby.”

I take a deep breath, thinking over everything that has brought me to this point. All the lying, games, and other stupid decisions I
’ve made in my life have ganged up on me in this one day and have me seriously considering an entire life revamp. I’ve never made the best choices, and today is proof positive of that very fact. As a little girl, I used to daydream about all the things I could be when I grew. And here I am, practically grown up, not quite, and still living in fantasyland. It’s not really a quality I find attractive about myself, and I’m surprised Becca hasn't completely cut me out yet. Then again, she might after all this is over.

“
We don’t have long. So, are you going to tell me what I’m about to walk into or what?”

“Walk into?” I ask. Then it dawns on me
—he’s going with me. Or alone. Either way, he thinks he’s going to go get Becca back.

“
Yeah. One of us has a badge here, and one of us doesn’t,” he says.

As I look into his eyes, studying his intent, I realize he may be the first truly good person I’ve met in a long time. It seems that lately all the people I meet have an ulterior motive. None of them would help
someone out just because. They’re always waiting for their end.

Sure, I could tell him when he
’s about to walk into. But then, I’m not even really sure myself. Victor talks a good game, and yeah, he’s a mean SOB. At the end of the day, I’d like to think Victor won’t kill Becca. Then again, I didn’t think he would try to kidnap me, either.

“
I don’t really know,” I say.

Hey, it
’s the truth. Officer Guilliot may be a truly kind person, but that doesn’t mean I can trust him. His job is to arrest people like me, and I can tell you—those orange jumpsuits do nothing for my complexion.

“
I should call Sarge. I’m not going to, though, and I’ll tell ya why. I got a feeling if I pick up the phone he’s going to tell me to wait for squad. Know what happens if we wait for squad? A bunch of guys come, maybe they’re good or maybe not, and we wait while your dick of an ex-boyfriend kills your girl. Not a good scenario, I think.”

I
look down at my hands, wondering how I’m ever going to get Becca, let alone myself, out of this mess. It’s seemingly impossible. Then I realize I have one thing on my side I didn’t expect—Chase.

I
’ve known him about the entirety of an hour, but I think I’ve got him figured out. He’s a good guy, maybe a little rough around the edges. But in his heart, he is a good guy. There’s nothing about him that tells me he’s anything but genuine. And he wants to help.

The other option is to catapult myself out the window, assuming it opens. Or I could take a bigger risk and let him call his cop buddies and let them decide what to do. Neither option is attractive.
Since he has my gun, and I’m locked in a hotel room with him, I’m thinking he has the upper hand and we’ll play things his way.

“
All Victor really wants is the necklace. He doesn’t really want me—he just wants to prove a point.”

“
And what kind of point is he trying to prove?”

“
You know, the kind where he sizes up his dick in order to determine that he’s got the bigger one.”

“If this Victor is as powerful as you say he is, why didn’t he get the necklace back himself?”

“He said he couldn’t,” I say.

“Really? He couldn’t get it himself even though he has half the force on his payroll? So instead he sends in his ex-girlfriend who is, what,
just over five feet tall and has no fucking clue what she’s doing? Does that
really
make sense to you?”

I stop breathing just about instantaneously. Could Victor have gotten the necklace back himself? I’m sure he could have. I shake my head.

“Look, it doesn’t matter
why
he didn’t get the necklace before now. He sent me in to prove a point. I broke up with him, and now the point he’s making is that he calls the shots, not me.” I blow out a heavy breath and look at my feet.

“So what were you supposed to do with the necklace after you got it?”

Slowly, I lift my head and look him in the eyes. Should I be honest, or should I lie?

“The deal was that we’d switch
me and the necklace for Becca.”

“And what exactly is he going to do with you once he gets you?” Chase’s eyes are imploring me to piece together a puzzle I’ve long since known the answer to. I gulp, feeling the rise of bile in my throat.

“Keep me, kill me. Whatever he wants,” I whisper. Hearing the words aloud sends a shiver up my spine.

“
Well, we better get going,” he says, changing the mood entirely.

I stretch
and stand from the bed. My clothes are still damp and sticking to my skin. I’d commit a multitude of sins for a shower right now. One thing I hate about New Orleans is the ever-present humidity. It’s insufferable. My drawstring backpack, which is now empty save for the cigar box, clings to the back of my jacket.

Chase stands and puts his hands behind his back, taking the
Glock into the waistband of his cargo shorts. He pushes the chair back and levels me with an icy glare. His eyes aren't focused on mine but on the purple diamond hanging from my neck. Instinctively, I take a step back placing my hand over the diamond. I know it’s coming, and though I can’t outrun him, part of me would like to try anyway. Unfortunately, he wants the diamond, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.

"Hand
it over, Shelby."

I take a deep breath a
nd force myself to give up my only leverage. Once I hand over the diamond, I have nothing left. Chase already has my gun, as well as the upper hand, and now he’s about to have the prize jewel as well. It’s not that I trust him. It’s just that I’m not so stupid that I think I can overpower him. Plus, for the time being, he appears to be on my side.

“
What are you planning to do with it?”

“
I’m going to wear it to fucking Mardi Gras.”

I sigh and remove the heavy piece of jewelry from my neck.
I flip it over my head, and with the chain of the diamond firmly in hand, I tentatively take a step forward and reach out toward Chase. He keeps his hands steady, never moving toward me as he waits.

“
I’m trusting you. Please don’t screw me over.” Tears form in my eyes.

Chase
’s eyes leave the necklace and dart up to mine. He seems to be looking for something. Something I don’t think he’s going to find, something he might never find. I just know that when I look into his eyes, I see something genuine. I never did see anything genuine about Victor. His eyes didn’t lie—I was just too goddamn stupid to see it.

I drop
the necklace into his hand. Instantly, he curls his large, long fingers around mine. I suck in a deep breath and let go. He pulls back, and I see a tiny sliver of purple peeking out between his fingers, a cool reminder of what I’ve just given up. I’m trusting in the stranger—something I told myself I would stop doing—and praying to any God that might exist that he’s worthy of my trust. Trusting in him when I shouldn’t could be the very thing that gets Becca killed. The thought is overwhelming.

“
Here’s how it’s going to go—you walk in behind me, you don’t speak, keep your eyes straight ahead. Be aware of the people in the room. And do not, under any circumstances, leave my side. You got that?”

His tone is so serious. It
’s like he’s directed wayward women in distress all his life. For a brief moment, I picture this Officer Chase Guilliot as a small child. Somehow, he has the same chiseled bone structure and the same dark eyes. But he’s younger, definitely a child. He stands in front of the elementary school, directing pretty little girls to their mother’s waiting cars. He’s very concerned for their safety.

“Wait. Shelby, you realize that if Victor wanted the diamond he could have gotten it himself at any point, right?” A feeling of dread washes over me as I consider why he’s telling me this.
“He doesn’t give a shit about the stone. He wants you.”

“That makes no sense,” I say. I’m about to explain the kind of man Victor is when Chase brings his hand up to cup my jaw and places his thumb over my lips, silencing me.

“He wants you,” he says, giving me no room to argue.

I nod my head
even though I don’t quite believe him. Victor’s pride was wounded when I broke it off with him—he’s used to sending women packing when he gets bored with them—but our relationship was never that deep to begin with.

Part of me wants to warn Chase that should anything happen to Becca, I’m going to take it out on him. But that would imply some kind of relationship or bond here—something we don’t have. What we do have is a stupid girl who broke a couple of laws and a cop who
’s trying to right her wrongs. And that’s it. And even though I’m trying like hell to ignore it, I have this suffocating desire to have more good in my life—the kind of good Chase can bring.

The other part of me
wants to hug him and hold on, apologize for dragging him into this mess, and cry into his shoulder. It was never supposed go this far or be this awful. I know my mother always said that easy money was never easy. Everything comes with strings attached, even the things that look like gifts. I should’ve known better. I should have been smarter.

“
You should know that Becca is my best friend. If anything happens to her, I might literally die. She’s like a sister to me, and if there’s one thing I take seriously, it’s family.”

“
Miss Connor, if there’s one thing I take seriously, it’s helping others. Especially pretty ladies in distress,” he says with a wink.

“Are you flirting with me, Officer?” I ask. I flash him the best smile I can muster under the circumstance
s.

He shakes his head, his lips fighting a twitch.
“I should tie your ass to that bed and leave you here while I sort out your disaster.”

“I might like that,” I say.

“Unfortunately, I know better than to think any makeshift knots I create out of those sheets would hold you. Even if they did, you’d probably just scream until security came up to untie you.”

“Oh, Officer. You have no idea how loud I can be.” I smirk up at him. He has to let me go with him
, even if I don’t have the gun or the diamond anymore. And if I have to flirt with him to get my way, I will.

“Miss Connor, this is hardly the time to test my resolve,” he says. His voice is flat and his expression unyielding.

“You can’t leave me here,” I say, crossing my arms and essentially putting my foot down.

“I can, but I won’t. I have no clue what this Victor guy looks like
, nor do I know where you’re supposed to meet him.”

Chase makes his way to the door, stuffs the diamond in his front pocket, and opens the door into the hall. He slides himself to the corner of the frame and gestures for me to walk past. I move quickly, too quickly, and before I can get out the doorway
, his large hand lands on my upper arm. He shakes his head, letting me know he’s keeping tabs on me.