Page 58 of Of Desire And Deception

I sighed, knowing I wasn’t getting out of the interview without disclosing at least some of my involvement with him. She asked question after question but never outright asked for intimate details, and I chose not to offer them. An hour of questioning left me confused and on edge. I’d recapped every scrap of information my time around Cosimo had allowed me to gather, but none of it was particularly incriminating.

“Well, thanks for chatting with me today, Ms. Black.” Ms. Spencer put the tablet she’d been tapping away on back in her bag and stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress. “If you could wait outside while I speak to Agent Madden.”

I nodded and left the office, finding Madden leaning over Harris’ desk, deep in conversation. Clearing my throat, I caught his attention and pointed a thumb over my shoulder. “Ms. Spencer would like to speak with you, sir.”

“Right. Sit tight at your desk until I call you in.”

He was treating me like a child, and I rolled my eyes when he turned away but complied, plopping heavily into my seat. I looked over to Harris, who appeared engrossed in whatever was on his computer screen.

“So,” I began, trying to fill the silence with anything. “How have things been around here?”

“Same as always,” he shot in my direction, fixing his cufflinks. They were cheap, as was the suit, but he thought he was some fashion icon in the Bureau. He gave me the once-over. “You don’t look like an agent.”

“Sorry,” I answered sarcastically. “I didn’t have any suits in my wardrobe. It’s not really something a bartender owns.”

He pressed his lips tightly together and grunted disapprovingly. I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to translate to in dude language, but it couldn’t be anything flattering. “I think you’ve been in the field too long.”

“I don’t think you get to make that call.” I refused to give into his baiting, so I opened my desk drawers, finding them empty. “Did somebody go through my shit?”

He shook his head, smirking. “Don’t look at me.”

We both looked up when Ms. Spencer exited Madden’s office, and he appeared in the doorway. “Get in here, Black.”

“Yes, sir.” I rose and pushed my chair in, striding quickly to his office and twitching when he closed the door behind me. Without him asking, I sat in the same chair I’d just spent an hour in, shifting uncomfortably before forcing myself to still.

Madden sat behind his desk, where I was pretty sure he’d raised his chair to appear taller, and leaned forward, elbows on the desk and fingers steepled. “Agent Black, are you engaging in a sexual liaison with the target?”

The blood drained from my face, and I wanted to bolt. But I couldn’t, so I took a deep breath and let it out silently. “Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “It took the surveillance team some time to go through the audio because something more urgent took precedence. But yesterday, the report landed on my desk. It was unsettling, to say the least.”

“It’s not unheard of for an agent to take that step when necessary to secure a connection with the target,” I reminded him. My mouth was suddenly dry, making it difficult to swallow.

“I understand it’s happened. But it’s certainly far from ideal. That’s why I brought Ms. Spencer in, to see what we were dealing with.”

“And?” I drummed my fingers on the armrest until his eyes darted to my hand.

“She thinks—and I agree—that your remaining at Deception would risk the entire operation.” He held up a hand when I tried to speak. “It’s not just that. We’ve got another more promising lead with a rag-tag gang that calls themselves the River Raiders. They’ve got connections to Chicago and New York, and it’ll be easier to get a man in there without compromising an agent. In fact, we have a man who has already infiltrated, and the prospect of taking down two crime families instead of one is appealing to the Bureau.”

“I understand.” I leaned forward, clasping my hands. “But I’m not compromised, sir. I need to do this. For Trey.”

“You’re a fucking liability, Black!” his raised voice echoed off the walls. “You were supposed to get me intel, but all you did was fuck a damn mafioso! Do you know how that makes me look? Like I can’t handle my own agents. You embarrassed yourself and your team, and I’m putting you on a month-long leave of absence.”

“Sir, please,” I protested, feeling on edge at the sudden impending change. I couldn’t just give up. And if I were honest with myself, I didn’t want to leave Cosimo like that. “I don’t need a month off. I don’t want it.”

“You’ve thought enough about yourself for an entire career,” Madden snapped, standing and fisting his hands on the table. “You’re fucking lucky I’m not firing you on the spot. Take the month, Black. Visit family. Enjoy the holidays. Put some distance between you and anything—or anybody—related to the Nerettis. Can you control yourself, or do I need to ask a federal prosecutor to charge you with something like obstruction?”

I shook my head, nervous that he was serious. A federal charge would screw over what was left of my career. “I can control myself, sir.”

“Good. You can go now,” he dismissed me, and I clenched my jaw as I made my way to the door. His voice stopped me when I was halfway out. “And Black? If you set foot in this office before your return date, you can kiss your career goodbye.”

I managed a weak nod and closed the door behind me, keeping my head down as I walked to the elevator, hoping I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with Harris or anybody else in the building. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to stave off the tears.

Everything I’d worked for was in jeopardy because I’d let my vagina and heart rule over my mind. The bus ride back to my apartment dragged on, and I didn’t bother taking any precautions to avoid being seen. What did it matter now?

I plodded up the stairs and fit my key into the lock, sighing as I opened the door to the dismal apartment that was now… empty.

“What the fuck?” I breathed in disbelief. Everything was gone. Movement behind the screen caught my eye, and I reached for my service weapon, only to remember it wasn’t at my hip. A man in blue jeans and a navy hoodie emerged, phone in hand. I turned my body to the side, unsure if I needed to fight or run. “Who the hell are you?”

---