CHAPTER TWO
Lucas
HE HATED waiting. They all had their own way of coping with it, but it was one of those things about the job that just made it that much harder. Sitting on your ass because you needed to wait for confirmation or a warrant? The inactivity was almost the worst part of being in law enforcement.
He leaned back in his chair, gazing across the bullpen he called home for most days of the week. There were eight desks, one at the opposite end from him occupied by Special Agent Ezra Moses from his task force. Mo was a big bald man who always looked like he was about to burst the seams of his suits. Most criminals ran the other way when encountering the man and rightfully so. He could put someone down in less than ten seconds.
His boss’ office was to his left along with the hallway to the kitchen, bathrooms, and elevators. Straight ahead was the computer room. He hated that damned room. You spent enough time in there prowling the dark web for depraved people and you ended up with visceral reactions to stepping through that door.
Special Agent Gemma Sutton was seated at the desk next to his, tapping her pink nails against the top of her desk. They were chipped, the nail polish coming off. She was usually on top of it but lately, she didn’t seem to care too much. She never got long nails done but since day one, she’d had colorful nail polish. It was her little spark of joy in their rough job. She didn’t care what anyone thought of it because if all they could complain about was her nail polish, then she was doing pretty damned well. She was a fantastic agent and even their sourpuss of a boss didn’t dare say anything about it to her. He couldn’t afford to lose her.
They all had that small thing to brighten their usually very dark days. Tahir had his superhero socks he wore every day, Mo had an endless supply of mugs with dirty quotes on them, Evan had the little notes his wife wrote him each morning, and even Sanchez had something. Sanchez, being their grouchy boss, of course, kept his hidden away, but what kind of a federal agent would he be if he hadn’t figured it out?
Sanchez had two daughters, both grown and living on their own, but Sanchez had an old drawing in his desk drawer from when the twins were little. Whenever things got to Sanchez, he would go to his office and pull out that drawing, staring at it for as long as it took for him to calm down.
Sanchez had been doing the job for longer than any of them, so they didn’t begrudge him taking that time. They all knew what the others needed and when they could sense someone falling, they reached out to support them.
Evan would drop a new pair of Spider-Man socks on Tahir’s desk, Gemma had the Sanchez twins’ numbers and texted them when their dad needed to hear their voices but wouldn’t call himself, he and Gemma would buy anything with a dirty quote on it when they saw it to give to Mo, and Mo would write outrageous notes pretending they were from Evan’s wife and slip them into the man’s bag to make him laugh. He would buy the most colorful press-on nails he could find for Gemma, so she’d always sparkle. He was going to buy her some once they got off work because, clearly, she was in need of some support.
Gemma had a far-off look on her face, and he was sure she was trying to disassociate from the situation. He wasn’t surprised when she turned to him, though. She gave him a flat smile and reached out to squeeze his hand.
“We’ll get them,” he told her. “No matter what it takes.”
There was a flash of something deathly in her eyes as she nodded.
“Let’s nail these fuckers,” she said, conviction in her voice.
While he liked his team, Gemma was the one he felt the closest to. They’d connected instantly and she was the only one on the team he cared to see outside the job. Granted, they all went out for beer and wings every once in a while, but he considered Gemma a friend. The fact that they hadn’t seen each other outside of work for a few weeks never seemed to matter. They always picked up right where they left off. Sometimes, there were just periods where hanging with someone from work was too much for one or both of them.
Their latest case had been a shock to the system. They’d cracked down on a pedophilia ring and the footage they’d had to watch had given him nightmares and an aversion to food for a good few weeks.
The case they were working on now probably wouldn’t be any less heartbreaking. The local PD had gotten a tip for a location where a trafficking ring they’d been hunting for the past three years might have some of their girls stashed away. The police had asked them for assistance and while Sanchez was busy coordinating the op with them, all the rest of them could do was wait for the green light.
Knowing that someone was hurting while they sat on their asses was rough as hell. Unfortunately, they had to. They needed to make sure they had enough evidence, otherwise, it would’ve been for nothing. If they couldn’t convict those sick bastards, that meant they’d be straight back out there hurting people again.
Footsteps had him looking up to see Special Agent Evan Torres walking toward them. Evan had short black hair and lively brown eyes. He was five-eight, shorter than even Gemma, though only by half an inch. Despite his short stature, Evan was vicious on a sparring mat, often holding up longer against Mo than the rest of them.
Considering Mo’s slow pace, Lucas knew not to expect much of an update.
“Any news?” Gemma asked, though the light drawl to her voice told him that she too wasn’t expecting much.
Evan shrugged and pulled out his desk chair, dropping into it with a sigh.
“Tahir’s getting the van ready, but Sanchez and the others are keeping a tight lid on the op.”
There had been a shift lately. More closed doors. Less intel flowing. He knew what that meant. He wasn’t surprised either. There was only one way an organization as big as this trafficking ring could remain undetected and ahead of the FBI for so many years; they had someone on the inside. Corruption wasn’t anything new but whoever was doing it had to be sick in the head to assist these bastards.
He often wondered how he ended up on the Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force. It was one of the hardest jobs an FBI agent could have. Murder was one thing. These people were alive. They had to see what those sick fucks were doing to little kids. He had to take home with him the knowledge of just how many deprived people existed in the world. It sometimes made it very hard to function like a normal human being.
He’d given up a life with his ex to become an FBI agent. To do this . He had to make it worth it. Chris’ brother had been involved with an outlaw motorcycle club, and they found out too late that it meant Chris couldn’t join the FBI. He’d been forced to choose between the job he’d always wanted and the man he’d planned on marrying.
He’d told Chris once that he’d chosen wrong and yet, he wasn’t so sure now. Chris was happy. He’d returned to his hometown and become a detective. Then his brother had been murdered, and Chris had suspected his motorcycle club was responsible, so he’d gone undercover only to fall for Diesel, one of the full-patch members of the club.
When Lucas had arrived in York to investigate the club for being involved in trafficking, he’d gotten way more involved himself than he’d expected, throwing his badge to the side to help Chris and the bikers. Diesel had turned out to be the son of a Yakuza boss. The one who was actually doing the trafficking, and when he had taken Diesel captive, Lucas had helped Chris and the motorcycle club to get him back.
When they’d gone to rescue Diesel, they found someone else, too. Akio. Diesel’s younger brother. Their father had held him captive his whole life. He didn’t think there had been sexual abuse though there had been plenty of abuse. Akio had lived in it his whole life whereas his brother had escaped when he was a child.
Chris and Diesel had taken Akio in, and he was now in his last year of college. It had been four years since he’d sat at Akio’s bedside in a small hospital in York, Pennsylvania, telling himself he hadn’t put his life and career on the line for a bunch of criminals but for a young boy who looked at him as if he’d hung the damned moon and stars.
It had been a year since he’d been at Akio’s twenty-first birthday. He’d almost swallowed his tongue when he’d seen the man he’d become in what felt like the blink of an eye. Akio was still slim and delicate but gone was that scared little boy he’d bribed with chocolate ice cream just to see him smile in that hospital. A lot had changed in such a short period of time. He’d done his best to avoid Akio from then on. The way Akio looked at him had made it pretty fucking clear to him that he needed to stay away. Akio being off to college would’ve been great if said college wasn’t located in the same city as he was.