Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

I'd dealt with Casey quite a few times over the years and she always had a way of making me feel like I was the most dangerous man in the room, even when she had a whole squadron of cops at her back. When she finally pushed through the locked door leading from the offices and into the lobby, her eyes scanned me like a hawk eyeing its prey."What do you want?" she asked, not bothering to hide her disapproval."I got some information you'll be interested in," I told her, holding up the USB for her to see.Her gaze flickered to the thumb drive, then back to me. "What kind of information?" she asked, her voice suspicious.I hid a grin, knowing she didn't trust me. "The kind that will take down the whole Cartel operation," I replied, holding the thumb drive out to her. "Everything my uncle had on all his enemies, his partners, his dirty dealings."Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't reach for it. "What's the catch?""There isn't one," I replied. "Just take them down."Casey's eyes searched mi

~MARLOWE~I wasn’t sure how the hell it had come to this. Witness Protection! Oh my God! Never in my life had I thought I’d ever be in this position. But dammit, that's exactly where I had found myself! I’d done everything I could to adjust. It just hadn't happened. The first few days had been awful. I'd run to the window every time I'd heard a vehicle, a motorcycle, even freaking voices!They’d told me that I had to cut all ties, leave everything behind, even my name. I'd assumed the name Rachel Peters, a young widow who had moved to a small town to start over. I'd felt like I was in a fictional crime novel, except it was real---all too real.Now though, just as I was beginning to get comfortable being Rachel Peters, Casey shows up in my living room, her voice grim, she immediately starts tossing out orders. "We have a problem and we're going to need to move you."Panic set in. Well fuck me! I couldn't help thinking."What's happened?" I asked, immediately setting about gathering my t

Over the next few days, we were like two animals trapped in a cage, fighting our instincts and our fears. We talked little, our communication mostly in the form of touch, of love-making that was both fierce and desperate.But as the weeks went by, our anxiety lessened, becoming more a shadow in the background of our lives, than the monster it had been.Though bound to the house, under the circumstances of the cartel actively seeking us, I tried to make the best of it. Torin getting nerves had become commonplace, but under it all, I knew the cause and tried to maintain.However, though the fear receded greatly, for me, it had never completely left. I couldn't speak for Torin, as he had always kept everything close to his sleeve, and in our time together in the safe house, that hadn't changed.After awakening one morning and nursing a cup of coffee, my phone rang, and picking it up I saw it was Casey."It's over," she told me. "You can return to your old lives."I sat for a moment stunn

As the night wore on, I began to dream. I saw the green truck, not on a dusty roadside, but prowling the streets of my own city. The headlights pierced the dark, searching for something... or someone. And as the engine grew louder, it felt as if were reaching for me, beckoning me into its grasp and I bolted upright in bed, my heart hammering in my chest.“It’s just a dream, Cami,” I whispered to myself, but the fear clung to me like a second skin. With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone to check the time. 2 AM stared back at me, a cold, unwavering sentinel of the early morning. I took a deep breath, willing my pulse to slow.After a glass of water and a few moments to compose myself, I slid back under the covers. Mr. Whiskey, sensing my distress, hopped onto the bed and curled into the crook of my arm. His steady purring soothed me, and gradually, the fear gave way to the gentle embrace of sleep once more.~~The morning came too soon, and after repeatedly hitting my alarm, I fi

The rain had eased into a drizzle by the time we arrived at Brian’s place. It was a cozy loft apartment, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sleeping city, the lights blanketed a warm glow upon the dark streets. The living room was sparsely furnished, but the bookshelves lining one wall were packed with a variety of titles, hinting at a man who sought refuge in the world of words.Mr. Whiskey, still shaking from his ordeal, burrowed into the crook of my arm, his fur sticking to my damp clothes. As I stepped into the apartment, the warmth enveloped me, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to feel safe.Brian’s hand never left my shoulder. “You okay?”I nodded, my voice shaky. “I will be. Thanks for letting us crash here.”He gestured to the couch. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll grab you some towels and something to change into.”As Brain disappeared into a back room, my mind raced. Why had someone trashed my home? Was it connected to the case, or was it something m