10. Louise
Chapter 10
Louise
Bracing my hands on either side of the sink, I stare into the mirror. Gazing back at me is a woman I barely recognize, and not only because of my swollen lips—evidence of Draven’s punishing kisses yesterday. No, the greatest change can be seen in my eyes. Draven ignited a flame—one I don’t know how to smother. For the first time since Kiera disappeared, I look alive, full of hope, and that’s all down to Draven.
Find Kiera, then we’ll fuck.
Does that mean he doesn’t hate me anymore? Or perhaps hates me less. Or maybe he wants to punish-fuck me. Whatever his intentions, I hadn’t had a chance to question him further, because he’d immediately launched into his plan to unearth where this gang has taken my sister and the other women. Although he’d kept the details brief, which raised my suspicions. The intervening years haven’t changed Draven one bit. Once a rule breaker, always a rule breaker.
Still, isn’t that why I came to him for help in the first place? I unlocked the cage and set the lion free. No use trying to coax it back inside now. All I can do is try my best to manage the situation, and pray I still have a career once we reach the finish line.
I add a light covering of makeup without making it look as if I’m trying too hard, and brush my hair until it shines. With a final check to make sure I don’t have mascara clumps on the ends of my lashes, I head into the kitchen and grab a to-go mug of coffee as I glance up at the clock on the wall.
He’ll be here soon. I guess that explains the clammy palms, prickling skin, and a heart that’s flip-flopping all over the place. I pace while I wait, watching the seconds tick by.
Will he mention yesterday or pretend like it never happened? Should I bring it up?
A firm rap on the door sends my pulse into overdrive.
Relax. Calm down .
I dry my sweaty hands on a towel, and like a newborn foal discovering its spindly legs for the first time, I hobble across the living room and open the door. Draven is standing on the other side, his trademark leather jacket unzipped, with a tight-fitting black T-shirt underneath it. His jeans cling to his thighs, and he’s wearing heavy work-type boots. He’s left his hair wild and free, exactly as I like it.
“Ready?” he asks, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head, allowing me to drown in his hickory-smoked eyes.
“Hi.” My voice is annoyingly breathy, so I clear my throat and hold up my cup. “One for the road?”
“No time. Let’s go.”
He spins around and marches down the hallway, leaving me scrambling to lock up. By the time I get outside, he’s already started the bike and is sitting astride it, waiting.
I groan. “Can’t we take my car?”
He thrusts a helmet at me. “No. It’s faster by bike. Now, get on. Or don’t. Your choice.”
All that worrying about yesterday and how it might make things awkward between us, and for what? Draven’s attitude is the same as always: irritating.
I grind my teeth together and snatch the helmet from him. “Who’s bitten your ass this morning?”
“No one, but I’ll bite your fucking ass if you don’t get a move on.”
Yes, please.
“Jerk,” I mutter, mounting the bike and tugging the helmet over my carefully brushed hair. Some good that’ll do me now. By the time we arrive, it’ll look like a bird’s nested in there for the winter. Then again, why should I care? He obviously doesn’t. I push away how horrible that thought makes me feel. This is Draven. The question I should ask myself is why am I surprised? Just because he showed a sliver of tenderness yesterday after he’d brutalized my mouth with his punishing kiss doesn’t mean he’s changed. Once an asshole, always an asshole.
He sets off before I’ve wrapped my arms around his waist, and I clutch a handful of his leather jacket to keep me steady as I curse him under my breath. It’s clear a night’s sleep has given him a different perspective on what happened between us yesterday.
Come on, Lou. It was one kiss. No biggie.
Except it had meant something to me. As much as it pains me to admit it, I can’t lie to myself any longer. I’ve harbored a crush on the biggest jerk in the world for eight years. And what’s worse is that I know I’ll feel the same way in another eight years. The man got under my skin a long time ago, and he’s dug in for the foreseeable future.
It isn’t as if I’ve thought about him every day, but I followed his career with a keen interest, and occasionally allowed myself to imagine what he would be like in bed. If he fucked anything like he kissed, I’ve gotten the answer to that particular question yesterday.
A ripple of pleasure rushes through me, recalling how hard his body was. The ease with which he overpowered me. The dominating thrust of his tongue throwing up vivid images, which had my arms tightening around his waist, and my palms flattening against his rock-solid abs.
An hour and a half later, Draven slows the bike and pulls up to the security barrier in front of a police building. After giving our names and showing ID, the guard lifts the barrier, and Draven parks in front of the main building and cuts the engine. He removes his helmet, waiting with a hint of impatience as I dismount and do the same. While he secures the helmets to his bike, I make a poor attempt of getting my hair back into some semblance of order, although, once again, Draven shows absolutely no interest. His hair has been destroyed by the headgear, too, but on him, it looks hot. On me… well, it’s a safe bet that I look like a Yeti.
Draven holds the door to reception open for me, and I walk through. We’re signing in when a familiar voice calls my name.
“Dang, Rhodes, what are you doing getting into bed with this crazy bastard?”
I turn around slowly, my middle finger already in position. “Fuck off, Rick.”
He grins, takes three strides, then pulls me into a warm hug. “Good to see you, Lola.”
A growl erupts from behind me. “It’s Louise to you, dickface,” Draven says in a sharp tone that could cut glass.
My arms erupt in goosebumps. If I didn’t know better, I might read a hint of possessiveness in that statement, or even jealousy. That can’t be right, though. He may want to fuck me, but getting his dick wet with what I’d wager is some kind of a revenge fuck doesn’t mean he wants me. I’m reading into it, that’s all.
“Hmm.” Rick runs a hand over his chin. “Interesting.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, and I’m not in the mood to ask. I am, however, in a mood, and I blame Draven. “You’d do well to remember it’s Louise to you, too,” I say, giving him a flat stare.
Rick sniggers. “Tell him, Rhodes. I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to put the big guy in his place.”
“Moretti ready?” Draven snaps.
Rick nods, seemingly unaffected by Draven’s snappy attitude. “A word first.” He cocks his head, and we follow him through two sets of double doors, then turn left at the end of a long hallway.
Rick opens the third door along before gesturing for us to enter. The windowless room is sparsely furnished with a table and four chairs, but along one wall, a mirror gives away the hidden room behind. Draven has spotted it, too, although his bored expression tells me he isn’t the least bit concerned that our interview will be observed. By Rick, I presume.
Draven pulls out a chair, jerks his chin for me to sit, then pulls out another for himself. Rick sits opposite us both.
“Hit me with it,” Draven says.
Rick frowns. “With what?”
“Lecture number three hundred and seventy-five.”
Rick snorts a laugh. “Why bother? You’ve ignored the other three hundred and seventy-four.”
“Because you’re an optimist, Rick. Always have been.”
Rick’s nostrils flare as he expels a breath. “All I’m asking is that you don’t use any kind of physical intimidation. I’m already concerned that seeing you again will set Moretti off on his ‘sue the force’ mission. I don’t need you giving him any more ammunition. I agreed to this because we’re friends, and you’re a terrific resource who has helped me clean up my caseload on several occasions. But at the end of the day, if you fuck this up, I’m the one who’ll take the fall.”
Draven makes a calming motion with his hands. “Chill the fuck out, Rick. If that vein in your forehead gets any bigger, you’re gonna have an aneurysm. I’ve already told you I won’t lay a finger on him, and I meant it. I admit, I went a touch too far at his arrest, but that fucker deserved everything he got. I’m done with him now. All I want is intel to help Louise find her sister. And given how close you are…” He curls his lip in a sneer. “I’m guessing you want the same thing, too. Yes?”
I hold my breath because he does sound jealous. He does. Maybe Rick has picked up on it, too, and that’s why he said “Interesting” a few minutes ago. There’s a part of me that wants to bounce up and down in glee, and another part that’s urging me to hold back. I still don’t fully trust that Draven’s not on some kind of a revenge quest, and until I do, I can’t let myself get in too deep.
“Okay, I’ll go get him.” Rick gets to his feet. “Remember, I’m watching you. Anything physical, and I’ll throw your ass in jail.”
Draven barks out a laugh. “Good luck with that.”
Exasperated, Rick huffs and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be friends?” I ask, frowning at their spiky exchange.
“He’d think I’d been cloned if I was nice to him.” He twists in his chair, the metal legs scraping against the cheap tile. “Now, listen up. You’re gonna hear some stuff, but you mustn’t react. You hear me, Lola? Not a flicker, a twitch, or blink of an eye. You assume a blank stare, hands in your lap. I want you to look almost bored. Can you do that?”
A ripple of concern creeps up my spine, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My assessment was dead-on. Draven kept the details of his plan purposely vague, and I’m about to find out why. He won’t punch the guy. He’s given Rick his word, and for all Draven’s faults, when he makes a promise, he sticks to it.
“What are you going to do?”
“Let’s just say that Moretti needs a reason to tell us what we want to know, and I’m going to give him that reason.”
I clench my hands into fists. I have a bad feeling about this. A knot forms in my stomach, and my throat narrows.
Draven waits for me to look at him, and when I do, he wraps his large hand around my much smaller one. “Trust me, Lola.”
I dampen my lips, then swallow. “Don’t let me down.”
A scuffling sound bleeds through the closed door. Draven turns his attention toward it and rubs his hands together.
“Okay, let’s get this party started.”