Page 28 of What About Love

T gripped her hand. “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.”

“Then tell me.”

His eyes locked on Eric’s on the screen. Cap sat across from them, his gaze on T. They both seemed to be waiting for his decision, as if he really was her dom and had that right. She was about to speak up and insist when his fingers tightened on hers.

“You’re very courageous, Angie. Most women, badass ex-cops no exception, would have bailed on this assignment. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“No. Although in three days’ time, with your help, I will be.”

“Correction, two days.” They both sent Cap an inquiring look. He nodded, confirming they’d heard correctly.

Eric hurriedly cut in. “I’ve got another meeting. I’ll expect you on Friday. Trust that we’ll take whatever measures are necessary to keep you safe, Angie.”

He disappeared, and the screen went to black the next second.

“Wait,” she cried too late. She whirled on T. “He didn’t tell me about the carousel.”

“That’s something you’ll have to see to believe.” He stood. Letting go of only one hand, he pulled her from her seat with the other. “Come on, trainee, let’s hit up the simulator. We’ve got a lot of work to do if I’m going to make you into an obedient, sharp-shooting, badass exhibitionist by Friday.”

She blanched, scurrying along behind him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cap staring after her, his handsome face drawn with unease. When she got to the door and snuck a glance back, he’d turned back to the computer. Maybe she’d imagined it. Tony Rossi wasn’t a worrier, although she was almost positive her new boss’s disquiet had been all too real, which didn’t bode well for either Angie or her first Rossi mission.

Chapter 7

THE PARKING LOT WASjam-packed. Not uncommon for a Wednesday night. Whenever Elena performed, they enjoyed near perfect attendance. As T swung into one of the reserved owner’s spaces, he eyed the cars alongside his in the row: Cap’s ’68 mint condition Bullitt Mustang, Rick’s Hennessey Venom GT, and Jonas’ Mercedes CLA45 convertible. T smiled. Operating the club and Rossi, who was so slammed with cases they turned away clients routinely, kept them in sweet rides.

T glanced at Angie. Visibly nervous when he picked her up, she was practically in meltdown mode now that they’d arrived.

“Darlin’,” T began softly, “if you’re not up to this mission, we’ll understand.”

Her head whipped around. “No.” Her denial was shaky yet filled with conviction. “I’m doing this. After seeing pictures of the missing women and putting faces with names, it made it all too real. I just need a minute.”

He waited patiently as she peered anxiously out the passenger window. The club was a sight to behold in the light of day, more so at twilight with soft light shining from within. With its three stories of stuccoed walls, arched windows, balconies, and porticos, it looked more like a sprawling southwestern hacienda than a sex club. The building usually impressed more than it intimidated. He’d expect this reaction at the doors leading into the dungeon. Something else was up.

“Talk to me, Angie.”

Her head came around, though she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, hers shifted over his shoulder. Turning, he saw Sean’s new Land Rover pull into the last remaining spot, Mara smiling and giving him a little wave through the window. That’s when it struck him. She’d never been beyond the bar and lounge, and her friends and family who were members were well aware of that fact.

---