“Fucking Detective Dirk.”
“Detective?” Florence asks, her voice trembling slightly. All the bravado from earlier fades away, her round green eyes looking to me for comfort and reassurance.
“I’m going to need you to trust me again,” I tell her in a hushed voice. She nods then buries her nose in Sprinkles’ fur, clinging to him like a safety blanket. “Your apartment has been compromised. I need to move you to a safe house across the city. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” I say, trying to ease the tension.
Florence simply nods, not acknowledging my joke. I wonder what her story is. She clearly doesn’t trust the police if she’s been digging into their shady business dealings, but this… this is something else. Not just distrust, but a primal fear. I’m determined to find out who made her feel this way and make sure they never breathe again.
“Go ahead and pack clothes and whatever you need for a few days. We need to leave here, and fast.”
“I’m taking Sprinkles,” she says, her voice a bit more firm.
“I’d expect nothing less,” I tell her, giving the traumatized, broken angel a small smile. She returns it, making my chest ache with the need to hold her.
6
FLORENCE
Ifollow Lorenzo into a sleek black sedan for the second time in as many days. This time, however, I have Sprinkles to rescue me if necessary. As if reading my mind, the cutest little flat-faced Persian cat that ever existed purrs from his comfy spot in the travel bag I have for him.
Lorenzo has my small duffel bag I hastily packed with several outfits and the essentials. Everything happened so fast, from peeking out of my window and seeing Lorenzo sleeping in his car to arguing with him about the documents… and then there was thealmostkiss. Or maybe I’m just making that up.
Not that any of that matters right now. I’m still not completely convinced that Lorenzo isn’t just protecting me as an extension of protecting the files. Then again, he could have easily overpowered me and stolen the documents already or even snuck in last night and rummaged through my apartment until he found them.
Right now, however, I don’t really care. As long as Sprinkles and I are safe.
Lorenzo opens the passenger side door for me and I slip inside the vehicle. He tries buckling my seatbelt again, but Sprinkles hisses at him. The tall, ripped, gun-toting man recoilsand holds his hands up in surrender. “Spiteful little thing,” he mutters.
I can't hide my grin. Knowing he's intimidated by my eight-pound fluffy white cat makes me feel even safer. My boys, fighting over who can protect me the best.
Not that Lorenzo ismineor anything. I just… I just want the fantasy to last a little longer. Yesterday, he was my fake boyfriend, swooping in to ward off the creep in the alley. Today, he’s whisking me away to a safe house. If it weren’t for the stupid case file, our meet-cute could be in a movie.
The sexy, mysterious, and possibly dangerous Lorenzo circles around the parking lot of my apartment building, then does a few trips around the block before heading toward the freeway. We ride in silence aside from the occasionalmewfrom Sprinkles.
I’m still processing everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. I knew I had discovered something big when I found the discrepancies between the print and digital files, but this? Dirty cops, money laundering, Mary Hanson using her accounting firm to cover everything up? I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t stumble upon it myself.
My head is spinning as I wonder how many cases I’ve handled with falsified numbers. Am I liable for the fallout of everything? Would I go to prison? Would the Las Vegas Police Department take me out to the middle of the Mojave desert and leave me for dead?
I look out the window, hoping to distract myself. Lorenzo takes the next exit off the freeway, then turns left, heading back toward my apartment. Did I miss something here? He takes another left, followed by a complete U-turn. The car weaves through traffic, Lorenzo seemingly taking random side streets and then popping back onto the main strip before circling around the block.
I’m about to ask what he’s doing, but I’m not sure I want to know the details. He must sense my question, because Lorenzo murmurs, “We were being tailed but I shook him off. I needed to make sure we didn’t have more company.”
My stomach turns to lead and I squeeze my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. I feel like I’m going to be sick. Sprinkles rubs up against me from the inside of his carrier that I have resting in my lap.
I close my eyes and try taking a deep breath, fighting off the panic attack threatening to consume me from the inside out.
A warm hand covers one of my balled-up fists, squeezing gently and keeping a firm hold on my shaking hand. I peek one eye open, looking down at Lorenzo’s hand and following the calming motion of his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Lorenzo’s actions speak for themselves. This man is comforting me, which has nothing to do with getting the files. It’s only for my benefit. As terrible as the timing is, I can’t help but fall for him just a little bit in this moment. Even Sprinkles allows the hand-holding without so much as a single hiss of protest.
Finally, after what feels like hours of driving, Lorenzo pulls the car into a small, nondescript Adobe-style house in the middle of nowhere with miles and miles of desert and tumbleweeds. He said the safe house was on the outskirts of town, but this feels like a completely different planet than the streets of Vegas.
Once inside, I see the house isn’t all that much bigger than my studio apartment. It has a larger kitchen area, but no separate rooms other than the bathroom. Unlike my apartment, this place has a bed. Singular. As in… Lorenzo and I would have to share it.
Heat flashes through my body, making me blush. I shake off whatever inappropriate scenario I was about to play in my mind and focus back on Sprinkles.
“I’ll get the litter box and food and water bowls set up in the bathroom,” I tell Lorenzo. He’s staring at the singular bed in the corner of the room, apparently coming to the same conclusion I just did.
“Yes,” he suddenly says, blinking a few times as if clearing his mind. “Good. I’ll see what they stocked us up with for food. You should eat. It’s been a long day already.”