Chapter Thirteen
Everyone deserves a chance to clean up their mistakes.
Lance watched as Robert strolled into Lian’s Red House of Lion Noodles.
Anger surged as he thought about everything that had gone down with the attack on where he was supposed to be recovering.
Just like Jasmine had said would happen.
She’d warned him the man couldn’t be trusted and something would go sideways.
The man had not a single care in the world and while he longed to rush in and confront him, Jasmine had also informed him the man usually had a man following him. Just in case.
So he’d waited. It wasn’t like he needed her to tell him how to do his job.
He’d joined the military the moment he turned eighteen, served four years and became a cop.
He’d been a cop for most of his life. He was a detective now and did undercover work.
But he’d just been betrayed by a man he should have been able to trust.
As far as he was concerned, his cover had been blown wide open. Which means I’m burned.
“What the hell is that woman doing?” Lance scrubbed a hand over his face as he blinked a few times, trying to convince himself he was imagining seeing her there.
Jasmine sauntered into view, tight jeans, hot-pink wedge sandals and a crisscrossed tank top in the same color as her footwear. His cock kicked as he watched her move. Fluid. Sexy. And dangerous as hell.
To more than just my heart.
He’d heard rumors of Smoke when he’d first gone undercover. Honestly, he’d thought it all a bunch of BS that the guys were telling one another. But having known her, seen her in action, he had come to believe it.
Which begged the question, why had she been burned? Why did they turn on her? Someone so dangerous. And why hadn’t she gone after them in retaliation?
He shook his head and frowned. Right now, he needed to focus. And part of that focus had to be on his safety, not on the woman who’d just twitched her ass right in the door of the building he wanted her far away from.
Crossing the street, he smiled at the couple at the door before he held it open for them. Soft music greeted him along with mouth-watering, tantalizing scents. The tiny woman at the front picked up a menu and smiled.
He gave her a small nod and pointed. “I see my party.”
“Okay.” The menu went back to the counter and she put her attention on something else.
Lance walked through the establishment, noticing how most people didn’t pay him a lick of attention. Especially the one who he’d come to see. But he also didn’t see his delicious woman wrapped in hot pink. Strange, because he didn’t think she would be blending in with that color.
Without preamble, he slid into an empty seat across the table from Robert. The man glanced up, his eyes widened and he looked feverishly around.
“Shit, I heard you’d been—” His skin remained pale. “Are you okay? I mean, with what I heard? That you were dead? Been killed.”
“I imagine so. The men you sent to do the job didn’t want to report failure.”
He paled further, shaking his head. “You have to believe me, I didn’t set you up.” He swallowed. “It had to be Jasmine.”
Lance leaned back in his chair, reached for the tiny porcelain cup on the table and spun it in his fingers.
“What reason would Jasmine have to kill me?” He lifted a shoulder as if he hadn’t a care in the world when, in truth, he had to dig deep to keep himself on the opposite side of the table from Robert.
“Had she wanted that accomplished, she simply could have told Dusan I was undercover, blowing my cover instead of helping me out.”
Robert’s nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw. “I know her. She’s dangerous. There is a reason she was blacklisted.”
Lance stilled his fingers on the cup. Took a deep breath. A single slow blink. When he opened his eyes, Robert was watching him like he was a caged animal.
Maybe the man wasn’t so stupid. But he’d tried to have him killed so…he was.
“I didn’t ask.”
The man smirked and bent toward him like he was about to impart a huge secret.
“But you want to know, don’t you?” He dipped an egg roll into some sauce and chewed a bite.
The red dipping sauce dripping down his chin.
“You put your dick into her and you’re wondering what you’ve done.
” Robert used the back of his hand to eliminate the excess sauce on his chin.
Fucker was right. He did want to know. Purely because Jasmine had gone tight-lipped on it and wouldn’t share a damn thing about what had happened to her. And he couldn’t go digging around on her. He wasn’t acting as a law enforcement officer at the moment, he had to maintain his cover.
Lance wanted to protect her. Give her what she wanted.
Keep her in his life. He knew she was building walls between them.
He watched her do it, even as he was dick deep inside the best pussy he’d ever had in his life.
It killed him a bit, but he wanted what she was willing to give.
When this was over, then he would turn his focus to keeping her.
“You seem to like hearing yourself talk, so go ahead. Tell me. Because you talking is all that’s keeping me from doing to you what I really want to do given the group of mercenaries you tried to kill me with.”
Robert finished off his egg roll and reached for a potsticker. “She was the top of her field.”
“Tell me what I don’t know, not what I do.”
Anger flashed in his blue gaze but Robert obeyed. “Had skills that even our senior members were in awe of. She was cold, calculating, ruthless. Things I’m sure you’ve seen for yourself.”
“I get you food?” A slender young woman stopped beside the table and glanced at Lance.
“No, thank you. How about just a Coke with ice?”
She nodded once and bent to set a napkin on his lap. He gripped her wrist when her hand slid a bit too close to his junk for comfort. Across the table, Robert smirked.
Narrowing his gaze at the man, he jutted his chin. “Keep going.”
The waitress brought his drink and set it down before walking away without a word. He reached for the napkin to move it and felt a piece of paper in the cloth.
Robert pulled a big swig from his drink and began talking. Giving him part of his attention, Lance slowly unfolded the sheet of paper and read it.
Your luck ran out.
“And the entire thing went pear-shaped. I didn’t plan for her to get blacklisted or burned. I had no”—he slowed—“choice. What? What is it?”
“If you honestly didn’t do it, you need to get the fuck out of here now.”
Robert sobered up quickly. “What are you talking about?”
“I just got this.” Lance slapped the note on the table between them. Didn’t speak while the other man took a quick read.
“The fuck?” Robert shifted and looked around before shaking his head. “I don’t know. I come here all the time.”
“I know.” For a man who should be so aware of how not to be predictable, he was dumb to believe that someone couldn’t have him pegged.
“I’ve made this my place to eat.”
“I know.” Lance swiped the note and shoved it in his pocket.
“I’m like a regular here.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know.”
Robert finally glanced in his direction, concern on his features. “And you still don’t think this is Jasmine. Even after all I told you?”
“You’re on her shit list. Not me.”
The sneer returned. “Right, you’re on her fucked list.”
“Ing, Robert. Fucking list. She and I ain’t done.
” Truth be told, he wasn’t sure they ever would be.
“If you claim you didn’t set me up and people know I’m here with you because you wouldn’t vary your lunch spot, that means you’re also in danger.
” He rubbed the nape of his neck, an itch arriving between his shoulder blades, warning him of impending danger.
“I’m in contact with one person at the bureau. One. They didn’t want me to touch base with many people since I was your handler, and if they got to you and found me, shit could happen.”
He drank some Coke. Why not. He was already marked. May as well quench his thirst. “As opposed to what’s happening now.”
Robert leaned over the table. “I told you. I had nothing to do with that attack on you.”
A dot appeared on Robert’s chest. Flashing. Lance scowled and stared harder, doing his best to make out the message in morse code.
“We need to move. Now!” Tossing some bills, he thrust a hand forward. “Out the back, now! Move, move, move!”
Behind them, glass shattered, bullets sprayed, people screamed.
* * * *
Jasmine paced back and forth in front of the safehouse door. Part of her longed to rush in and visually confirm that he was fine. The rest of her wanted to rush in and throttle Robert for being the dumbass he was.
Aware of her hair trigger, she paced. And paced some more.
Mark and Den had been advised to stay away, by her, given the unfolding situation.
She didn’t trust Robert, not as far as she could throw him.
She had been in the restaurant, had nearly gutted the woman for daring to lay a hand on Lance, but had controlled that new urge.
She’d been sequestered in a place allowing her a direct line of sight to Robert, where she could eliminate him if it became necessary. It’s always been necessary to wipe him from the face of the earth to me, but for whatever reason, Lance wants to trust him.
She’d not been lying when she’d said it was his choice.
If he wanted to trust the man, that was on him.
Not her. Even so, she’d not been able to leave him to his own devices when he’d gone to confront him.
Nor warn them both when the hit squad rolled up.
Someone must have though, she had an idea of who had, but no proof.
Now I have a man I can’t stop thinking about fucking on the other side of the door. And a man who I want to fuck up.