Page 60 of Undercover Desires

“If you’re not going to kick me out or kill me, what do you want with me?” she asks, her voice almost a whisper. She was prepared for a fight, and now she doesn’t know what to do.

“Go rogue, come work for us,” I reply, trying to calm the anger in my voice.

“Go rogue?” She looks between us. “All I ever wanted was to be a cop.”

“Let me ask you this. In the month you have been working here, have you ever seen anything illegal taking place? Anything worth reporting back to Reader?”

“No,” she admits, looking between us.

“What about Reader, what’s your intuition tell you about him?” I ask, taking her hand in mine. Staring into her eyes, I wish I could just demand she do as I say. I know what’s best for her. I could show her a life she never would have imagined, and yeah, it might not be the dream she thought she wanted, but it would be better.

“Couldn’t stand him from the first moment I saw him,” she admits.

“I think you have your answer,” Brandon tells her. I’m grateful to have him here. If it was just me, I would have fucked this up totally, but this good-cop bad-cop shit seems to work for her.

She looks between us and nods. She knows we’re right. I have her right where I want her.

The door bursts open, and a shaky-looking Jett flies through the door. “Overdose in room four. Ambulance is on their way, but I need your help now,” he calls, frantic.

My heart kicks up a beat. I stare back at him, frozen to the spot, the word overdose playing on repeat.

CHAPTER 25

ARABELLA

Kobe stares at Jett,his face going white. Brandon springs into action. Grabbing Kobe’s arm, he urges him to come along.

“I know CPR,” I quickly interject, hoping to be of help. What we were discussing was intense, and what it means for me is that I’m truly screwed, but right now, that’s the least of my concerns. Someone’s life is at risk, and I know I have to help if I can.

“Yes. Come,” Brandon agrees without hesitation.

Jett is already ahead of us, hurrying down the hall toward the private rooms. I glance back at Kobe, wondering what the hell he’s doing. We don’t have time to waste, but he’s frozen to the spot. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was in shock. Brandon negotiates with him and encourages him to keep moving. I focus on following Jett. Whatever is going on with Kobe can wait.

We all rush into room four, where Leo is on the phone with the paramedics. The girl on the floor is familiar; I served her at the bar a few times tonight. She was drinking margaritas. I drop down to the floor, looking her over.

“Her name is Marini. She’s unresponsive,” Leo tells me, an edge to his normally calm demeanor.

I quickly check for a pulse—I can’t feel one. I check her airway, finding it’s not blocked, so I begin chest compressions, just like I was taught in my training. My heart races with fear. I might have been trained to deal with this, but I have never actually had to try to save someone’s life.

I glance up at Leo, whose face is serious. “Keep going. Paramedics are in the parking lot,” he encourages me.

The poor girl’s so pale. I get a sinking feeling that what I’m doing isn’t going to help, but I continue anyway, desperately trying to bring her back, performing chest compressions. The room is filled with a sense of urgency. Muffled voices talk around me, but they blur into white noise. Leo stays on the phone with the paramedics, relaying information and getting guidance on what to do next. I can see him out of the corner of my eye. Right now, he’s the only one keeping me going, his eyes calm and steady, focusing on me. My arms ache and tremble. I can feel tears welling, but I know I have to keep going.

Finally, the paramedics burst through the door with one of the security team, Ben, by their side. I move out of the way so they can take over with the defibrillator, warning us all to stand back. We move to the back of the room.

Brandon hovers nearby, his eyes locked onto the scene, ready to assist if needed. Jett remains focused and composed, watching the situation closely. Despite his initial shock, Kobe slowly regains his composure; he’s watching me with fear in his eyes. He looks like a lost little boy, and I don’t know why, but as we watch the scene in front of us, I slip my hand in his and give it a squeeze. I hate him for what he did to me tonight. That was a shitty thing to do just to prove his point. But his reaction to this poor girl’s overdose makes me think there is a lot more to him I don’t know about. And as much as I hate him right now, Ialso don’t. I also really care about him, and seeing him so scared makes me want to help him.

He squeezes back like he really needed the comfort. “You were amazing,” he mutters, complimenting me. “I just stood here, and you jumped right in.”

“It’s my job to know what to do in situations like this.” I know he hates cops, thinks they are all against them, but we’re not all bad. Some of us got into this line of work to help people. At least, that’s what I thought I would be doing. Now I’m not so sure about any of it at all.

The paramedics administer naloxone and are able to jolt her body back to life. Her eyes search the room in panic. The female paramedic calms her down as she cries, obviously disoriented. Carefully, they transfer her to a stretcher and wheel it out of the room, Leo following closely behind.

I slip my hand out of Kobe’s grip before the others have time to notice. Brandon’s attention comes to Kobe. “You okay, man?” he asks solemnly, knowing very well he’s not. You can see how close they are by the way they look at each other, with what appears to be years of shared secrets.

“Who’s up for a drink?” Kobe calls, his demeaner changing instantly, a smile painted on his face that he wears like a mask. I think I finally get him. He’s tortured, so fucking messed up in the head that he spends his entire life playing jokes and having fun so he doesn’t have to deal with his sad reality. It’s tragic, really.

“Okay,” Brandon agrees, but I can see he’s not really up for it. Who could be at a time like this? Makes me want to call my mom and tell her I love her, even though I know she wouldn’t care.

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