Chapter 27 Zach
ZACH
Rafe’s legs didn’t want to work after I’d wrung a hands-free orgasm from him, one that threatened to break the desk and my soul. I carried him to his bedroom, cleaned us both up, and curled up around him.
What the fuck was I doing? Fucking him was dangerous, stupid.
He was supposed to be the enemy. I was supposed to want to put him and the rest of his family behind bars.
I only started working with him because Ivanov was so much worse, but now…
now that I’d been deep inside him, now that I’d heard him call my name as he came?
I couldn’t arrest him. I couldn’t hurt him. I might actually be in—
No. That couldn’t happen. I liked him; I wanted to keep fucking him.
That was all. He was hot, and he felt so good, and he responded so well.
He couldn’t be any more than that to me.
Love was not an option. So why the fuck was I cuddling him now, wrapping myself around him, letting my fingers trail up and down his arm as we half slept?
We were waiting for a chance to go after our best lead to bring Ivanov down, but I wasn’t focused on that at all.
I was focused on how beautiful Rafe was, how good it felt to be here with him, and how I didn’t want to leave.
He turned and looked at me, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “Tell me about him.”
“Who?”
“Your informant. Did you know him well?”
I shook my head, but then I reconsidered.
I probably knew him as well as anyone. And how fucking sad was that?
“Tommy was a street kid. He refused to let me help him. If I’d tried to get him into foster care, he would’ve run, or worse.
Although now that I think about it, taking his own life would have been better than what that son of a bitch did to him. ”
“Turn around,” Rafe insisted. I wasn’t sure what he wanted, but I did as he said. When I was facing away from him, he began to massage my shoulders. “Fuck, your muscles are like rocks.”
I scoffed. “Regular massages aren’t really part of my compensation.”
“Then let me help. Keep talking. Tell me anything you need to. I actually can be a good listener sometimes.”
I groaned and felt him tense against me.
He liked that sound. It would be so much easier to stop this, turn around, pull him into my arms, and try to forget about Tommy, about everything, but I’d never told anyone the story.
Maria knew the basics; there’d been no reason for me to go into detail, and she would never have asked.
Maybe I needed to tell it now. Damn, I was going to miss Rafe when this was over.
“Zach, you with me?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s… sometimes…”
“You get lost in the memories? I know. There’s a lot of things I’d rather not remember too.”
“I think Tommy had a few people he knew who watched his stuff when he got an odd job here or there. He did the same for them, but he didn’t really have friends. He’d let me buy him a meal, and of course, I paid him for information. I think that was the main way he survived.”
Rafe pushed a hand into my hair and began to massage my scalp. It felt so fucking good. “Tell me the rest.”
It was like he was pulling the words from me.
“If I hadn’t pushed him, if I’d insisted on getting him help, if I’d not tried so hard to get information about Ivanov, about other young men who disappeared, then—” I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed the heels of my hands into them, trying to stop the tears.
Rafe pulled me back against him and kissed my shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t hurt him. You tried your best to help him. I’m so sorry.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and I put my hands over his. When he nuzzled into the crook of my shoulder, I couldn’t stop the tears anymore.
“It’s okay. Let them come,” Rafe said. “Have you ever cried for him before? Did you let yourself grieve at all?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t let myself cry. I’d pushed on past Tommy’s death because I was afraid if I let myself go, I might not get back up. I needed the anger, not the despair. Anger was what motivated me.
But right then, with Rafe’s arms around me, it was okay to let go, at least for a little while.
We were both dozing when Rafe’s phone buzzed.
I wanted to tell him to ignore it, but I couldn’t.
No matter what else I was starting to want, I did want to end Ivanov, and the message could be from fucking Xavier Carrington—the billionaire philanthropist rumored to be the ruler of a vigilante underground and essentially infallible. We couldn’t ignore him.
“Check it.” I nudged him. He sighed and reached out for his phone.
Instead of telling me what it said, he held it up for me to see. The contact’s name simply said “X” and the message: You were right. Go for it.
As I was reading it, another text popped up. “He sent the address.”
Rafe nodded. “Were we right on that too?”
I grinned. “We were.”
I expected him to jump up and start getting dressed since he’d wanted to go after the man the second we’d learned who he was, but he set the phone down, cupped my face between his hands, and pulled me to him for a kiss.
Then he smiled. “Let’s go kill this fucker.”
I nodded, but I pulled him back one more time for another kiss.
It wouldn’t be the last one. It couldn’t.
We still had time because getting LeBlanc wouldn’t end things.
It would only take us one step closer, and we both wanted that.
It needed to happen, but I still didn’t know how I was going to walk away when this was done.
We raced across town in the Corvette as Rafe ignored my insistence on following the rule of not doing crime while doing crime. We did not need to get pulled over for speeding.
“Can’t you just flash your credentials or something?” he asked
“That’s not how undercover assignments work.”
“So they’d arrest you if we get caught?”
I sighed. “Yes. I’d eventually get it sorted, but I can’t identify myself to local law enforcement.”
“Interesting. So feds don’t have it as easy as I thought.”
“Not when the mafia owns the police.”
He smiled and sped up. “Then we just don’t get caught, or I use my connection to get us off.”
I held on to the door and prayed we’d survive his insane driving.
Thankfully, our mole didn’t live far away.
Rafe drove past the house and then parked around the corner on a side street.
Adrenaline had my heart racing when we climbed out of the car and made our approach.
We’d decided to knock on the door, then pick the lock if he didn’t answer.
“Ready?” Rafe asked.
I nodded. My hand was on my gun as we climbed the steps of the shotgun house that had recently been remodeled but not modernized to death like so many of the houses close by.
This would have been easier if the guy lived in a shit neighborhood, but it was obvious he was well paid for his assistance to Ivanov.
Rafe knocked on the door, and we waited. No response. I tilted my head toward the door, indicating he should knock again. I pulled my gun, ready to take him down if he came to the door armed.
Nothing. Not a sound from the house.
“He’s probably asleep,” Rafe said.
It was bold of him to sleep that hard when he was betraying the Theriots. “Do your magic.”
Rafe picked the lock easily, then pulled out bolt cutters and snipped the chain that barred our entrance.
I covered him, my heart pounding. I’d cleared a hell of a lot of buildings, but I hadn’t been this nervous since I was a brand-new agent on my first assignment.
At this point, I hardly cared if someone killed me, but I wouldn’t let anyone hurt Rafe, not even a scratch.
Rafe kicked the door open and waited for me to enter first like we’d planned.
There was still no sound—not a footstep, not anything.
Was LeBlanc gone? Or was he hiding? He couldn’t have slept through us breaking in, could he?
The place was nice, but not that big. That was when the smell hit me. Fuck.
I cleared the living room, then indicated to Rafe that I was moving forward. I leaned around the doorway and froze. “Damn.”
Rafe tensed behind me. “Is it him?”
“Yes. He’s the stinking corpse.”
“Fuck.” Rafe moved around me and whistled when he saw LeBlanc. The body was a few days old and had begun to bloat in the warm, humid air coming in through the broken window. I was surprised the neighbors hadn’t smelled it or seen the damage and called the police.
He had been shot multiple times but had likely taken a while to die, as none of the shots were through the heart or head. Was that on purpose? Ivanov wouldn’t send an unqualified assassin.
“Look.” Rafe pointed to the rug near the body.
We both took a few steps closer. The man had used his blood to write “Iva” on the rug.
“Ivanov.” Rafe had to be right. LeBlanc wanted whoever found him to know. “You don’t think Ivanov was here, do you? That he killed the man himself?”
My pulse sped up. What if he was still here? No, the kill was days old. He wouldn’t be here, but was he watching the place? “We need to get out of here.”
“Why would Ivanov want him dead? He couldn’t know we’d figured out his plan.”
“We didn’t even have LeBlanc on our radar yet when he was killed. I have an idea, but that’s for later. We need to leave now.”
“Shouldn’t we look around, see if we can learn anything, take his computer, his phone, or—”
It wasn’t worth the risk. “We’re in danger. Ivanov could be watching. Maybe he wanted us here.”
Rafe’s eyes widened, and then he nodded. “Yeah. Right. I… that’s right.”
“Come on.” I took Rafe’s hand and led him through the house to the back door, which opened into an alley. Thankfully, we didn’t see anyone as we returned to the car.
“How secure is your house?” I asked.
“We’re good there, and Remington had guards patrolling the area.”
“Good. Take us home. At a reasonable speed. Like we’re returning home from a normal night out.”
“I can’t drive after a normal night out.”
I blew out a breath and slumped against the seat. “Rafe. Just drive like a sane person.”
“I’ll see what I can do, but only if you start talking. Why would Ivanov bring this guy in, then kill him when he’s succeeding with his plans?”
“I’ve got a few theories.”
Rafe motioned for me to get on with it. “I want them all.”
“What if this guy is the one who rigged the bomb on your car? What if Ivanov told him to scare you so you’d already be on edge when he started the blackmail? What if he went too far? You could have died, and Ivanov wants you alive.”
Rafe glanced over at me. “He wants to use me. He thinks I’ll betray my family.”
“Yeah, I think your instincts on that were absolutely right.” I reached out a hand and laid it on his leg.
“I didn’t want to be right. Why does everyone think I’m an idiot?”
“I don’t. I wouldn’t be working with you if I did.”
“You’re telling me you didn’t think I’d be the easiest Theriot to contact?”
Fuck. I was not going to admit that. “You’re the Theriot in charge of the casino where my informant said I could find a link to Ivanov, and it doesn’t matter what I thought before I met you. I know you now, and I know how capable you are.”
“What do we do now? We no longer have a contact at the casino, and we can’t interrogate that fucker since he’s rotting away in his house.”
“We need to find out if anyone new had been hired at the casino in the last few days.”
He laid a hand on top of mine as he slung us around a corner. “You think Ivanov sent in someone else?”
“Do you think he would?”
Rafe huffed. “I don’t know. You’re the fucking investigator.”
I wasn’t going to let him dismiss himself like that. “Remington trusted you with this for a reason. You read people well. The first time I stepped into your office, you knew something was off, that I wasn’t just an overconfident con man, and I’m damn good at undercover work.”
He nodded. “All right. Fine. I agree. If Ivanov got rid of LeBlanc because he fucked up, then he’ll send someone else. He’s not giving up the blackmail scheme, because if you assume I’m nothing but playboy fluff, then it’s a damn good plan.”
“Right, but we’re going to need to go at this a different way because there’s a huge chance Ivanov now knows we were onto his guy. We cannot tip him off that we know more.”
“Yeah, but how—”
“I think it’s finally time we bring your family in.”