Page 134 of Tapped

We hit the doors in full raid gear—it would’ve been a wet dream for Rocco. King, on the other hand, ran an entry team and chased down a runner before the sun rose.

He was useful.

“I need to talk to you,” King states.

The only person I want to talk to is Evie. I owe her a phone call to tell her it’s done. The last thing I want to do is hash this shit out with the DEA agent who went rogue with the CIA and how my case fucked up his. “Look, ask my boss and anyone in my group. I deconflicted my case. I had no fucking idea you even existed until yesterday, let alone your highly confidential case with the CIA. You cannot blame me for killing your money line.”

His glare is heavy. “I can blame whoever I fucking want. That’s not what I want to talk to you about. I need a favor.”

I turn to him fully to take him in. He’s no slouch. He wouldn’t completely get his ass kicked as a lineman. Maybe just marginally.

I cross my arms. “Most people try buttering up their targets before asking for favors.”

He looks put out. “I told you the lick this morning wasn’t bad. What more do you want?”

This guy has the personality of a rusty bicycle. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. I keep my nose to the ground and work my ass off. I’m also by the book, which I assume you are not since you hooked up with Cole Carson. No one likes to push boundaries more than he does.”

“He’s the one who told me to come to you. He said you’d have more pull because you’re by the book and our cases are linked. You might’ve brought down the battalion in the U.S. but there’s a whole fucking army behind them. If you think this made you look good, I can make you look better.”

I tip my head. “I look fine just the way I am.”

He has the nerve to scowl. “But this is big.”

I shrug. “You think I don’t know how big shit is in Central America? That’s where the dope came from that I took down this morning. But I’m just collecting it once it gets here.”

What I don’t tell him is that nothing is dragging my ass away from Miami. If he would’ve asked me before I laid eyes on Evie, I might’ve thought about it. Most likely I would’ve said no, but now the answer is a fuck no.

But I don’t know him so he doesn’t need to know that.

“Man, I’m not inviting you to Panama.”

“Then what do you want?”

He looks to the side and pulls in a deep breath.

“I’ve got shit to do,” I say, thinking of Evie. “Spit it out.”

He turns back to me. “My case is shot for the time being. I’m going to let my targets get their shit together and create a new pipeline. A shit ton of cash is funneled through Panama. For now, I don’t need to be there to work it.”

“So go home and work it. I’m still not sure why you need me.”

He looks like he’s in literal pain when he says, “I want to do that from Miami. My problem is everyone wants to work in Miami. I need someone to pull some strings.”

“Ah. I get it.” I rock back on my heels and shake my head. “You gave me shit yesterday for ruining your case when your case’s security clearance is so tight, most top brass in DC don’t have access to it, so now you’re asking me to do you a solid. This is quite the turn of events.”

He puts a hand up and starts to leave. “Never mind. I was going to go to Brax because he’ll probably have documentaries made about him someday and figured he’d have more pull, but he just sped out of here like a streak of shit. You’re my next option.”

I drop my arms and stop him. “Wait. Brax left? I thought he was still at the warehouse.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. His wife went into labor. He took off hot—lights and sirens.”

“Shit. He didn’t call me.”

“I know you have a big head, but trust me, he was not thinking about you.”

“I’ve got to go.” I pull out my phone to check for messages. All I have are three texts from Evie demanding to know if I’m okay. I look back up. “Why Miami?”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and his jaw goes hard.

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