Chapter 31
Hemlock
The itch to hurt, maim, and kill sticks to me like tar on my way back to the house.
I convinced myself that the entire reason I drove right to her house the second those handcuffs were off was to tell her that Tommy was in police custody, arrested for running a prostitution ring, but those words didn't even make it past my lips.
The sight of the U-Haul threw me for a loop, and I was reeling when I finally stepped onto her porch.
I wanted to beg her to stay, to let me protect her as best as I could manage, but I knew I couldn't promise her safety. I couldn't be with her every single second of every day, and that's what it would take to safeguard her against anything in life that may cause her harm.
Jericho wasn't at the raid tonight because, like me, he needs to stay undercover, but the sight of his bike in the driveway when I pull up means he'll be inside, right along with that fucker Jersey.
I didn't ask questions about the man, but he climbed out of that cop car and strode toward the house like he owned the motherfucker, making my irritation grow with being out of the fucking loop.
I kick the stand out on my bike, considering just leaving, getting away for a few days, but I know the longer I go without an assignment, the worse it's going to be for anyone that gets near me .
I need something to focus on other than the woman with the U-Haul who will no doubt be gone by morning.
Laughter comes from the kitchen when I step inside but bypassing the area and going straight up to my room without at least showing my face seems like a weakness, so I arrow in that direction.
Jericho has a smile on his scarred face, and it grows wider when he watches me step into the room.
I eye Jersey who is leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer in his hand.
He no longer looks like the forlorn soon-to-be-divorced man he was in the bar. It's clear he's showered and shaved. His clothes are different, having traded his simple button-down and slacks for a retro band tee and jeans, and his loafers for heavy-soled boots.
"Roman Parker," he says with his right hand out as he steps closer to me. "But I go by Jersey."
I look down at the man's hand before glancing over my shoulder at Jericho. "Did you know about this?"
Jericho shakes his head, and Jersey takes a step back, placing his ass back against the counter where he was when I first walked into the room, seeming unaffected by the fact that I won't shake his hand.
"Seems there's been a little crossover between teams," Jersey continues as I make my way to the fridge.
I pull out a bottle of water rather than opening the freezer and going for the bottle of vodka there. Liquor consumption would end with me going right back to her house and forcing her to kiss me like I wanted to earlier. That's the last thing either one of us will ever need.
"Mike, my handler, and Ace seemed to have put us both on the same case without the other knowing. Now there are talks of combining forces."
"Great," I mutter as I pull out a barstool at the end of the bar, keeping myself positioned where I can see both men .
"We've cleared now eight of the eleven places that Nathan Adair had on the list we found, and the consensus seems to be that these places were prime for takeover. He somehow knew of these men and the businesses they were running, and as a man who always wants his enterprise to grow, he had them slotted for acquisition," Jericho explains.
"All prostitution?" I ask.
"No," Jersey interrupts making me want to fly across the room and snap his neck. "I took out one just over the state line in North Carolina that was trafficking drugs."
"Don't you have a wife and kids to get back?" I growl.
Jersey smiles around the lip of his beer bottle, taking a long sip before responding. "All part of the cover. Women love a man who's down on his luck."
"Zara wouldn't touch a married man," I snap in her defense.
"Good thing I'm not really married."
Jericho stands, positioning himself in front of me before I can rip the man's head off.
"You need to leave her the fuck alone," I growl as I point at the bastard over Jericho's shoulder.
"Calm down," Jericho snaps. "We're not going to fucking act like wild goddamned animals. The case is closed, and both of you will move the fuck on."
I don't take his insistence as an order. The man doesn't have rank on me, but he does make a lot of sense. The case no longer exists. It ended with Wilkinson's booking into the county jail. It's time for me to move on to something new.
"Is there a problem?"
I'm slow to turn my gaze to Ace as he enters the room, and I don't pull my eyes from Jersey until he looks away first. I settle some with the minor victory, grabbing my bottle of water from the bar and taking a few steps back before turning my attention to Ace .
"We have three places left we need to clear out in the next couple of weeks. One already has someone working it, but they may need some backup," Ace continues.
"I'll take it," Jersey offers as if he's in a fight for being the teacher's fucking pet.
"Mike will get you the information you need," Ace says with a quick dip of his head.
"Nice meeting you guys," Jersey says on his way out of the room, and I'll give the guy credit for saying it in a tone that doesn't make him sound like a complete asshole.
"I like him," Jericho says.
"He's one of the good ones," Ace agrees. "So these last two jobs, one will be in North Carolina, and the other will be a little closer to home. Hemlock, I think the one in NC would be a better fit for you. Jer—"
"I need to stay here," I interrupt.
Ace tilts his head to the side, and I'm grateful when Jericho doesn't open his big fucking mouth to insert his opinion.
"Need? Is there something going on I should know about?"
I can't help the way Zara flashes through my mind. She's my reason for the need to stay close, but she won't be here much longer, will she? The U-Haul proved that. If she were simply moving down the street or across town, she could've gotten Tommy to help her with that rather than renting something you pull for a long haul.
"Tell me there's an appointment or something that you need to be in town for," Ace pleads, and I know he knows exactly where my head is without making the confession.
"I don't think leaving town so soon is best," I manage, wishing I didn't have a fucking audience for this shit right now.
"This next job is vital to our work, and it may be the break in the case we need to finally set eyes on Adair and get his ass either in a grave or in jail. Jericho has too many ties to the man, and it's not safe for him to go," Ace argues. "I need you for this. "
I want my shot at Adair, but I can also feel the irritation running off Jericho. He blew his cover to help another Cerberus member's woman, and I commend him for that, but if he misses out on being the one to take that vile piece of shit down, it'll haunt him for the rest of his life. I don't know what the man had to do to stay side by side with the evil fucker, but I can imagine it was some shit he'll have to ask forgiveness for in the afterlife, making him not much different from me.
"I'm not meant to be the one to take that piece of shit down," I remind him.
Jericho grunts in agreement, but I know deep down he's a team player and wouldn't begrudge any of us the opportunity to make it happen.
"That's Jericho's demon to slay."
"I don't think I need to explain to you how easily someone could recognize him and give Nathan another opportunity to get away," Ace says, pointing at Jericho. "He understands that."
I want to argue for the man and tell Ace to stop speaking as if he isn't standing right there, but I know it won't get me very far. The decision has been made. I have no doubt it'll be less than a week and I'll be sitting at another fucking bar in North Carolina, once again wondering why I even made the move from New Mexico, to begin with.
"I understand," Jericho says. "I don't regret the decisions I made that keep me from being on the direct team to take that motherfucker down. I'm not so cocky that I can't let that be someone else's bust. I know people are getting hurt every day that he isn't in custody."
"Where in North Carolina?"
"Wilmington," Ace says, making me want to flip fucking tables and trash the room.
"That's over five hours away," I snap.
"Closer to seven," Jericho helpfully supplies.
"We have a small apartment already set up over there," Ace says. "The doctor said you should take it easy for a week or so, but then you're good to go back to work."
"I thought we were clearing the area around home base?" I argue.
"While simultaneously clearing the list," Ace counters.
"If eight of the eleven have all been possible acquisitions, then why would it be such a bad idea for Jericho to go?"
Jericho stands a little taller, ready to take on the task.
Ace shakes his head, pulling in a deep breath. "You're the best fit for the job."
My lip twitches in aggravation, but I don't say another fucking word. I've already said more in this one conversation than I have since I moved to fucking Tennessee.
I hate the idea of Zara out in the world alone. Nathan had eyes on The Lost Kitten at one point, and it's possible that the man who stabbed me was somehow linked to him. That means the man saw Zara, and she could easily become a target. It wouldn't be unheard of for Nathan Adair to have recognized me as a member of Cerberus from New Mexico, because he was well aware of who was protecting his stepdaughter Brielle. He said as much in conversations with her that she later recalled to Newton.
My skin crawls as I think about how vulnerable she is, and even as I climb the stairs to my room, I can't help but feel like the woman is in immediate danger, and if I follow my line of thinking back to Adair, then it wasn't me who put her in danger. It was Wilkinson for offering her a job there in the first place. If the man wasn't already in jail, I'd beat his face in until he was unrecognizable.