Trained To Kill (13 page)

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Authors: Emily Duncan

Tags: #romance, #romance adult fiction, #romance about unrequited love, #romance billionaire, #romance after abuse, #romance adult contempory, #romance fiction contemporary new adult, #romance and contemporary, #romance and millionaire, #romance action love

BOOK: Trained To Kill
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Isa stared back, reading his
expression. His pupils were dilated and his body was pitched toward
her. It all screamed sincerity. Of course he was an excellent
undercover cop. Looking out the window, Isa weighed her pros and
cons. It went against everything she was ever taught. Not that she
felt she owed those people who trained her anything; it was just so
deeply ingrained. It was a hard habit to break and she had a
healthy sense of self-preservation.

"Put your recorder and cell phone on
the counter."

After a surprised pause, Alex
obeyed.

"Ok, I'll tell you. First, tell me
what you were doing there."

"I was doing my job."

Isa nodded and said, "I planted a bug
and jacked his computer."

Alex sat in stunned silence for a
moment. "Is that all?" he asked sarcastically.

Isa's lips twitched.

"So?"

"So what?"

"What did you see? What was in
there?"

"I haven't had a chance to look
yet."

Alex stood abruptly. "Then let's go
look." He fished in his pocket for some cash, and dropping it on
the table, took Isa's hand and dragged her out of the diner back
into the cold. "I'm parked a couple blocks down."

"That way," Isa indicated with her
head.

"I'll meet you at your
place."

Isa nodded and ran to her car. He
could be completely playing her, gathering evidence and waiting for
her to let her guard down. But she thought she had a good judgment
of character. She wanted to trust him.

Arriving at her penthouse, they walked
immediately up to Isa's office, not bothering to take off their
coats. She immediately booted up and set up the remote connection
to DeCarlo's computer.

This would take several minutes so she
said, "Why don't you make some coffee?"

"Oh, ok,” he said momentarily confused
wondering if he could find the kitchen. He came back several
minutes later carrying a tray, and Isa was ready to go.

Alex walked around the desk and leaned
against the wall behind her so he could watch what she was doing.
She picked up her coffee and drank deep. She hadn't touched the
diner coffee.

Alex took the time to study her
office. She wondered what he saw. She knew downstairs was devoid of
any personality but here she had shoes kicked off, a sweater thrown
over a chair, a mini bar by the window, a large screen TV hooked to
the wall, and her computer system with its multi screened monitors.
A couple of bookshelves lined the walls and contained technical
books, history, biographies, martial arts, and some
fiction.

She soon forgot about her coffee,
letting it go stone cold as she worked. She couldn't forget about
Alex though. His presence was like a constant heat source. Alex
seemed to be fascinated by Isa's fingers. They flew over the
keyboard entering sequences of commands she knew he didn’t
understand. She was immersed in DeCarlo's files now, scanning and
separating. Then she got down to studying. Most were workbooks of
numbers, no names.

"Alright." Isa sat back and picked up
her mug, she put it back down when she realized it was
cold.

"Alright?" Alex asked. "Are you
done?"

"For now." Isa swiveled in her chair
with her legs up in the chair. One underneath her, the other bent
at the knee.

"And?" Alex moved in closer as Isa
pointed to the screen.

"These are shipments."

"Of?"

"Don't know. There are no names." Isa
stopped swiveling as Alex moved closer. "These look like weights,
times and prices."

"Drugs." Alex said
definitively.

"Probably."

Nodding his head, he turned and his
face was inches from hers. Her breath caught in her
throat.

"This next file is a schedule. Weights
and addresses. The Inferno is not on here."

"It doesn't mean he wasn’t using your
club though."

"No.”

"Right, but I can't use any of this.
It was obtained illegally."

"Calm down. I'm not done."

Isa tapped a few keys and brought up
more files. "His underground accounts."

Alex's eyes got big. This was getting
out of orbit. This was something the FBI needed, not a Narco cop
from Brooklyn. "Are you serious? How much is in there?"

"Oh millions. Not quite a billion, but
close."

"Jesus." Alex pushed off and began to
pace.

"The accounts are in
Switzerland."

"Of course they are."

"It's fairly common, I have one there
myself."

"Really? Why do you need an account in
Switzerland?"

"I don't need it. It was Roger
Thorn's," Isa looked away. "I inherited everything. I haven't
touched the money yet." Isa cleared her throat, faintly
embarrassed. "Anyway. DeCarlo's Swiss account is roughly
$700,000,000. He probably has about the same amount in his
legitimate accounts." Isa rubbed the tip of her nose.

"It's interesting, but I can't use any
of it."

"I know. Right now I'm just gathering
information. I have access to his computer. I’ll see what he sees
when he logs on. But, it’ll take time. If I find something
interesting, I can always send it to you anonymously or
something.”

She looked up into Alex's eyes. He had
turned around and his butt was perched on the edge of her desk
facing her with his arms crossed. She was getting fond of that look
on him. His T-shirt stretched very nicely over his arms and chest.
Her tired eyes wandered the length of him. The scruff on his jaw
looked enticing and his long legs were very close to her knee and
arm. His incredible scent was right in her face.

She was so tired, she wasn't thinking
straight anymore. All she wanted was for Alex to carry to her the
bed and fall asleep cocooned in his warmth. The heat he was
emitting right next to her now was about to put her to
sleep.

"Sorry. What were you saying?" Isa
asked lifting her head back up.

"Look you're tired." Alex said,
shifting to stand. "Let's call it a night. We can figure out what
to do later."

"Of course. You're welcome to crash in
the guest room."

Alex looked at her for a long moment.
"I don't think that would be a good idea right now." He stood and
put space between them. "Even if I wanted to beyond all
reason."

Walking away, he turned back around
and said, "Come on, you need to lock up after me."

"Right."

Isa followed him down and they stood
at the door. Alex moved fast and she was exhausted, so when she
found her back up against the wall, she was mildly surprised. He
hesitated for a split second, but then his lips were on hers. His
gloriously, warm, rough lips. He kissed her softly as if
apologizing for shoving her against the wall. She kissed him back,
sliding her body toward his trying to pull him closer, but he
intertwined their fingers and placed her hands on his chest. Her
heart beat thick and fast and she could hear his harsh breathing.
She needed him to press his warm body against her; she was so cold
and tired. But he held back, slowing his kiss and pulling his head
back.

They didn't speak. There was nothing
to say. They both wanted it, but neither could do it. Alex gave his
half-smile and she opened the door. Her thoughts were swirling as
she closed the door behind him. That kiss had shaken her to her
core. Her knees wouldn't hold her up.

Once her pulse slowed down, her
thoughts became more coherent. He was still a cop, and off the
record or not, he had watched her hack a man's computer. He knew
she had the evidence in her office. Maybe he had accepted her
lapses in legality. She knew he was a good cop. He knew she was
doing it to help him with the case. He didn't like it, but he
understood.

That was probably what made him a good
undercover cop. He knew there were gray areas. He lived in them.
But Isa wasn't an idiot. People weren't all sunshine and roses. He
could be playing her, using her to gather evidence and then turn it
in against her and Malone and DeCarlo. There was nothing stopping
him from doing so, from advancing his career.

Isa paced back and forth in her foyer.
She had to make a decision. Trust him or hide the evidence? Both.
She would trust him, but she wouldn't leave DeCarlo's books lying
around her house. Isa ran up to her office, her earlier fatigue
forgotten. She did what she could to erase her hacking from her
computer and gathered the disc copies she had made.

She ran down to the garage and jumped
in her car. Driving the icy streets, her thoughts wandered.
Trusting Alex with her secrets was something she never imagined
doing with another human being. But, she was no fool.

Isa was a survivor underneath it all.
She always had been. Self-preservation was an ingrained instinct
she had even before her training had begun, before Roger Thorn. In
her travels she had left behind people she had begun to care for
because she didn't want them to see her true-self. Her darkness ran
deep and the river of blood was in her soul to stay. Alex seemed to
strip it all away, all her pretense and bullshit. He saw through it
and into her. She had kissed two men in a week. She hadn’t kissed
two men in years. When it rained it poured. James had been sweet
and romantic. Alex rough and passionate. She shook her head. Not
the time.

Isa reached her storage facility and,
punching in the code, she drove to her unit. Climbing out of her
car was rough; her fatigue had come back on the drive over. This
was one of her bug-outs. It was stocked with survival gear: cash,
fake ids, passports, a space heater and a cot, some food and water.
Opening a safe against the back wall, she stowed the discs. She
felt something oddly like guilt. As if she was betraying Alex, but
she pushed it aside. She needed to sleep, and sleep would come
easier knowing her ass was covered.

 

Chapter 18

 

Alex drove away from Isa’s warm house
and lips. He needed to get home and sleep. He was still a little
high from that kiss. She had kissed him back so that was
encouraging. Passing garbage trucks and buses full of workers was a
familiar sight these days. He needed to get more sleep. Thankfully
he had two days off in a row, which was unheard of.

He parked at his building and ran to
the door to keep himself warm. Opening the door he immediately
began to strip. Throwing on the first pair of sweats he spotted, he
climbed into bed and was asleep instantly.

The ringing of his cell phone ripped
into his subconscious and he shot up in bed. Scrambling around on
the floor he searched for it. Jacket pocket. He saw the Caller
ID.

"Hell Brian," Alex fell back onto the
floor and lay there. "Do you know what time I got to bed?" He
looked at the time. Two hours. Shit.

"Hello little brother. No I don't
know, and I don't care. If I waited to call for when you've had
enough sleep, we'd never speak again." Alex made a face, he was
right.

"I'll call you later, I have to
sleep." Alex slurred.

"Wait!" Brian yelled like he wanted to
reach through the phone. "Come by Dad's when you get
up."

"Fine. Later." Alex wasn’t sure if he
hit ‘End’ on his phone before he passed out on the
floor.

When consciousness came again, he was
still on the floor with his phone in his hand. He looked at the
time, 11 am. Much better. He felt almost rested. Too many late
nights were catching up with him. And for the life of him he
couldn't recall the last time he had eaten.

He peeled himself off the floor, his
gray sweat pants bagging in the back. His back muscles rippled as
he stretched. He shuffled into the shower and turned the sprayer
toward his face. Cold water blasted him in the face waking him the
rest of the way. It was a utilitarian space, white and beige. The
shower head wasn't quite tall enough to fit over his head but he
adjusted. The water pressure was shit, but Alex didn't care. The
rent was cheap and it was close to work. Stepping out, he toweled
off and threw it and some clothes in his laundry basket. As he was
gathering up the rest of his laundry, his phone rang again.
Isa.


Hey. What’s
up?”


Alex, I need to talk to
you.”


About?”


DeCarlo.”


Did something happen on
his computer?”


Yes.”


Ok. Well I’m on my way
over to Brooklyn, can it wait?”


No.”


Fine. I’ll swing by and
pick you up. You can ride with me and we’ll talk about
it.”


Ok.”

Pulling on a Yankees hoodie, jeans,
and a hat he hauled his laundry out to the car and took five
minutes to scrape the frost away.

He swung around to pick-up Isa; it
wasn’t that far out of the way. She was waiting outside, pacing
under the awning of her building when he pulled up. She ran over
and jumped in the car almost before he had stopped, immediately
putting her hands to the heating vents.

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