Page 11 of Draven

“True. The feds will have the full picture.” I pause. “If she has been taken, you might never see her again. You know that, right?”

She pales at my blunt, if truthful, statement, but hiding behind false hope won’t help anyone.

“I can’t allow myself to think like that, Draven. I don’t care how long it takes, I won’t rest until Kiera is found, even if it’s her body I bring home.” She winces, turning away from me so she can wipe away another tear that crawls down her cheek.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it because I’m that much of a bastard.

“I need you to help me work this case in the background. I don’t want to ruffle any delicate Fed sensibilities, but I can’t sit on my hands and wait for them to feed me snippets of information that I have to beg for, either.”

I tug on my beard. “Problem is, you and I don’t mix. Our work methods are completely different.” It’s a direct dig, and one that hits its target given how she flinches.

“I guess I deserved that,” she says wryly. “You’re right. I’ve always played by the book. I’m a rule follower. I believe rules are there for a reason, to protect us and the public. It’s how my parents raised me—to respect authority, to follow the law. And once I became the law, that seemed even more important.” She lowers her eyes to the floor. “But as much as it pains me to admit it, there are occasions where playing by the rules puts the good guys firmly at a disadvantage.”

“Fuck.” I press a hand to my chest. “You have grown up, little Lola.”

She appears startled that I remember the nickname given to her by her parents—another thing she told me during our time working together, her tongue constantly running loose and free. I hadn’t acknowledged it at the time, but the fact I used it now clearly means it’s stuck in my brain somewhere.

Like she is.

There. I admitted it. Despite the anger at her betrayal continuing to simmer just beneath the surface, a significant part of my rage had been caused because I’d liked her. I’d liked her a whole fucking lot.

Until she’d screwed me over.

“That doesn’t mean I agree with your methods, either then or now, but I can’t turn my back on Kiera. Please, Draven, help me find her. Bring her home where she belongs.”

I pause, making her wait. I just can’t help myself, even though the decision is made. There’s no way I’m walking away from this case, especially as it’s happening in my own backyard, the place I grew up, and where my family live. I give it twenty-four hours before Mom’s on my back about when she can go home. Wednesday is bridge night, and she’s only missed two of those in more than ten years. One when she caught the flu, and another when Ruby bumped her head, and she and Erika spent the evening in the emergency room waiting for X-rays.

“I have one condition.”

She answers without hesitation. “Name it.”

My smile comes slow and steady. “You follow every fucking order I give you without question. If you can do that, we have a deal.”

Louise draws in her lips, her fingers plucking at a loose thread on her sweater. “How about this? We stay within the law unless we have absolutely no choice, and then it’s a discussion, Draven. You don’t go storming in there and fucking up my career. It’s tough enough being a woman in this job. Don’t make my life harder than it needs to be.”

“You have a very low opinion of me, Rhodes. Sure, I push boundaries at times, but I get fucking results. You want to find your sister and bring those who took her to justice? Then, let me do my job, my way.”

“Within the law,” she says, her dogged determination grating on me, even if I admire her for sticking to her principles.

“You came to me, sweetcheeks.”

She sighs, throwing her hands in the air. “For help, not to fuck me over.”

I run a hand over my beard, my eyes boring into hers, daring her to look away. I’ve already made up my mind to help her, sure, but a part of me needs her to work for it, to beg, to want to tell me to shove it even knowing she can’t because she’s that desperate.

“We discuss everything. We’re a team. It’s not you and me. It’s us,” she says.

Us. Has a nice ring to it.

“You want to play at being in charge, then fine. If I find myself crossing the line, and there’s time, we’ll talk.”

“You are such an ass.”

I lean in, close enough to smell her perfume—a dab behind each ear and either side of her throat. Subtle. Classy. I run my tongue over my top teeth. “That’s the deal, sweetcheeks. Choice is yours.” I’m lying. I’m already invested, but Louise is a girl who if you give an inch, she’ll take a mile. If I’m not careful, she’ll have my balls in a vise, and me on my knees, begging.

Fascinated, I watch her battle with her morals, waging a war against getting into bed with the Devil, or walking away, knowing her refusal to yield might sentence her sister to a life of unbelievable horror—what’s left of it. Louise Rhodes is a good cop, but if she thinks for one second she can do this alone, she wouldn’t be here in my apartment, pleading with me to help her. I hold all the cards, and I’m going to play each and every one to my advantage.

The fact the negotiation has given me another raging hard-on is an upside I’ll happily take.

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