Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
ANITA
The dark was where I excelled. I could spend all my time there and never see the light of day. But that wasn't how the world worked. It didn't cater to those of us who preferred the cover of darkness.
However, right now, it was my best friend as I waited for Special Agent Walsh to return home. For someone who worked in law enforcement, the security at his townhouse was shit. It took me less than ten seconds to gain access and disarm his security system.
I didn't bother to snoop while I waited.
It wasn't my style. I was a get-in-and-get-the-hell-out kinda woman.
The fact that I had to wait for Beckett to show up pissed me off.
I was going on forty-five minutes already, and if I had to wait much longer, there was a good chance I would take my aggression out on the special agent despite his career choice and the warning from my teammates.
Patience wasn't something I possessed. Not when there were a million other things I could be doing at the moment. My only comfort was the brass knuckles I rotated between my fingers. They kept some of the anger at bay.
The flash of headlights through the blinds gave me pause.
If this isn't Beckett arriving home, I'm going to lose my shit.
I waited not so patiently for the car door to slam shut and for footsteps to clomp up the concrete steps. A sadistic smile took over my face as the anticipation of confronting Walsh settled into my bones. These were the moments I looked forward to. Seeing the surprise on my enemy's face.
I didn't hold my breath as the doorknob turned and the door swung open. My heart rate didn't even spike. This was second nature to me and anyone looking on would think I was bored.
I could tell the moment Beckett realized he wasn't alone. His footsteps came to a screeching halt. I continued to play with the brass knuckles waiting to see what he would do.
Suddenly the living room lights flooded the space. I gave myself a moment to adjust to the brightness before lifting my head. A sane person would've been alarmed at the gun pointed at them, but it was no secret I wasn't sane. The huge smile on my face made that very clear.
"Welcome home, Special Agent Walsh." I said his name with a sneer. I didn't hide my hatred for him seven years ago, and I wasn't about to now.
"How the hell did you get in here?" Beckett was smart enough not to lower his weapon. He knew I was a threat to him and anyone else who got in my way.
"It's just one of my many skill sets," I answered dryly.
"What do you want?"
I had to give the man credit. He hadn't gotten soft over the years like some federal agents did.
He filled out his suit nicely, and the little bit of scruff on his jaw made him look sexy.
If I didn't hate him so much, I'd let him end my dry spell.
Thirteen months was an awful long time to go without sex.
But I did hate him, and I never let my libido control my life.
"To talk."
"So then why didn't you just pick up the phone? Breaking into my house wasn't necessary."
I slipped the brass knuckles over my fingers and ran it along my palm.
It wasn't meant to be a threatening gesture, but I could see it made Beckett tense ever so slightly before he regained his composure.
He wasn't stupid enough to disregard me as a threat, but he wasn't shaking in his boots either.
The man was confident, and damn, that annoyed me.
"I believe in a more face-to-face approach.
" I liked to see my opponents squirm as I played with them.
"Well, congratulations. You got your wish; now start talking, or I'm calling this in."
I chuckled at the threat or lack thereof. Law enforcement didn't scare me. Not local or state and certainly not federal. "We both know that will be pointless. I could finish you off and be long gone before anyone showed up. I'm sure you haven't forgotten what I'm capable of."
Beckett's eye twitched. I hit a nerve. I had paid the lovely special agent a visit after Mason disappeared. I made sure he understood my disappointment with the use of my fists. It had to hurt his ego to be beat so easily by a woman.
"I'm not the same green special agent I was when we first met. I learned a lesson that day and made sure it could never happen again," Beckett hissed.
"Good to know." I continued to toy with the brass knuckles. "I would love to test that theory, but that's not why I'm here."
"Then how about you do both of us a favor and tell me why you are here?"
I raised my right brow at him. I didn't appreciate the tone, but I would give him a little slack considering I was the one to break into his home. But only a little. If he continued with the attitude, I would be forced to adjust it for him. "Mason Dunkin." The two frigid words fell from my lips.
"What about him?" Beckett didn't look surprised by my request, and he still hadn't lowered his weapon. The man probably thought he had the upper hand in this scenario, but he was mistaken. I always had it.
"You know what I want," I seethed. I was no longer in the mood for this conversation. "A location."
"I don't have it, and I don't think Mason does either."
Was that pity on his face?
Fuck that!
I was up and out of the chair in the blink of an eye. Another second and I had Beckett disarmed and his face planted into the wall.
"Do you really think you can believe that piece of shit after the stunt he pulled?" I had one of his arms wrenched behind his back, and my hand was wrapped around the back of his neck as I pinned his front to the wall.
Most people underestimated me due to my size. But what I lacked in strength––I could beat most grown men––I made up in speed. It was rare someone saw me coming before I struck.
"You know as well as I do that he loved Nova."
I pulled Beckett back just far enough that I could slap him back into the wall.
"Men like Mason don't know the first thing about love.
I tried telling Nova that, but she refused to listen to me.
" My carefully controlled persona was slipping by the second, but I couldn't get control of it even if I tried.
My best friend's death had that effect on me.
"I thought the same, but I saw it in his eyes when I interviewed him back then. He loved her. Mason would never hurt her."
"He hurt her the moment he set eyes on her," I growled. "The Dunkins are a sadistic bunch, and he should've stayed away. I don't give a shit if he physically killed her or not. Her death is on his hands, and I want to speak to him. I need you to make that happen."
Beckett shook his head despite the hold I had on him. "Sorry, but I can't do that. He doesn't even want to talk to me, so there's no way in hell I'm going to help you."
Fuck!
I knew that was going to be his answer but hearing it still pissed me off. I forced myself to take a few deep breaths. Wes and my teammates were right. I couldn't kill Special Agent Walsh. Not yet anyway.
"I'm going to talk to him with or without your help," I snapped.
I didn't want to take the chance that my temper would get the better of me, so I threw Beckett to the floor and strolled out of his home without a look back. My conversation with him was far from over.
I waited until I was driving back to Kentucky before I called Wes.
"Is this your formal call for a cleanup crew?"
If I were the type of woman who rolled my eyes, this would be the perfect time to do so. That wasn't my style though. "I didn't touch a hair on the special agent's head."
Okay, that was a lie. I'm sure at some point while I had him pinned to the wall a stray hair touched me, but that was a minor detail, and Wes didn't need to know about it.
"Somehow I don't believe you."
I kept my eyes focused on the dark road ahead of me and kept my mouth shut. Wes didn't need the details of my interaction with Beckett.
Plausible deniability. That was the relationship my team had with Wes.
Wes huffed. "Did you secure a meeting with Mason?"
"No." I ground out the one word. It tasted like acid on my tongue. It wasn't like me to fail on a mission and knowing how much this meant to me only made matters worse.
"I'll see what strings I can pull on my end." Wes was quick to tack on before I could answer, "I'm not promising anything, but I'll see what I can do."
"I appreciate it." I hung up the phone before Wes could say anything more.
I wasn't in the mood to talk. I planned to use the short drive home to formulate a plan.
If Special Agent Walsh wasn't going to help me, then I would just go around him and to hell with the consequences.
He had his one chance to do the right thing.
Now he was my enemy, and I would gladly show him how I handled people who crossed me.