Page 250 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“In that case, I fail to see the problem,” I joked half-heartedly.

“This isn’t a laughing matter. Several daughters or nieces of state and local politicians have died via overdoses. At first, we thought it might be our usual suspect – fentanyl – but something isn’t adding up. I need you to join agents Loundes and Barr to get to the bottom of it.”

“You know, I truly pictured more of a desk type of job when signing up–”

“We both know you would be bored as fuck doing what I do. You need more excitement–“

It was then when I remembered the plans I had made for tonight, and how they would certainly fall into that category. “When do I need to be in L.A. again?”

“Tomorrow, so I’ll book your flight for tonight–“

“Actually, can you do it for first thing in the morning? I have plans tonight that I don’t intend on breaking.”

“I’m not sure it’s wise to wait that long, Bradford.”

I shrugged even though I knew he couldn’t see it. “I spent all that time in Houston and I’m not even back a full day before you want to ship me off once more. I’m just asking for one full day and night to take care of things here.”

He sighed, and I knew he was about to relent before he even started speaking. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll have you on the 6 AM flight. Hopefully whatever’s so important will allow you to get some rest. This is a mission with high stakes, and I need you alert.”

“Have I ever half-assed done a single assignment?” I asked him.

“No, and I’m sure you’ll make the department proud on this one. I’ll have the flight booked then send you over the details. I’ll also provide the information we’ve obtained from local authorities. Right now, it’s being kept on the hush, but if word about these drugs gets out to the public, it has the potential to create a public emergency which is the last thing we need.”

“Understood. Send it over, and I’ll find time to look it over.”

“Will do, and Bradford...”

“Yes,” I said when he paused.

“You’re one of my best agents. I just wanted to let you know that in case I haven’t told you so before.”

“You have, and it’s much appreciated. I’ve got some things to do, so I’ll get back to you later.”

“Take care,” my boss said before disconnecting the line.

“Fuck!” I said before tossing my cell phone onto the cushion beside me.

I’d initially planned to stay with Shelby overnight in one of the private rooms at Syn. I didn’t want to be one of those guys that hit and left, but with a flight and assignment looming, I’d have no choice but to do it. Hopefully, I’d be able to think of something to say to her that wouldn’t offend or upset her afterward. I couldn’t relay details about my job, nor would I even if I could. Just as I liked to keep my regular life from my sexual one, I also always kept my professional life to myself as well.

The only ones aware of who I was and what I did professionally were my immediate friends, especially the ones in similar types of roles, but with the Federal Bureau of Investigation versus the Drug Enforcement Agency. I loved what I did for the DEA, even if days like this made me wish otherwise. There was nothing else I could do but make sure I made the best use of tonight’s time, and have it be enough to convince Shelby to give me another one soon.

There was so much I’d dreamed of doing to her that I knew I couldn’t possibly do it all in one night, so there had always been the intent to see her again. Before I could even consider a second night with her, I had to make it through my first. Unfortunately, we were not meeting for several more hours, so I stood up and grimaced as a burning afflicted me.

“Shit, I shouldn’t be this damn sore,” I stated out loud.

I tried twisting and stretching my shoulder and upper back muscles, but the stiffness only intensified. I was in need of a damn good massage, and that’s when it hit me. I was going to be alone tonight with a woman who offered up the fact that she held a license in massage therapy, including the kind that would be most welcome at a place like Syn.

I grabbed my cell phone, then pulled up Hawke’s number.

Hey, Hawke. I was wondering if you could do me a solid.

Hey, E. It depends. What do you need?

The cell phone number of a club member.

You know I can’t do that.

He’d wasted no time shooting that down, and I understood why. It’d been a gamble to ask, but the only chances you lose in life are the ones you don’t take according to my late grandfather.

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