Chapter 13
Roque
I stood in the center of the briefing room, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. Judd was at the head of the table, arms folded, that unreadable expression on his face that told me he was just as pissed off as I was—he just had more practice hiding it. Around the room sat one of the detectives, Imogen, sharp-eyed and always five steps ahead. Kapono—our steady, quietly brilliant investigator—and Keir, the Deputy Sheriff, whose silence spoke volumes. Kai was already thumbing through files on his tablet, frowning.
I’d just finished explaining what happened to Sayla—a flat tire, knife, the two assholes in black, the tire now boxed and sealed for evidence.
Kapono didn’t waste a second. He pulled out his phone and called the lab, asking for his brother. “Yeah, I need you to get that tire Roque flagged. It’s evidence now. Also, do me a favor—check in on Sayla for us. She was there when it happened.”
It was the right call, but it was like striking a match in the powder keg under my skin.
“No,” I snapped, pacing now, my boots echoing off the tile. “No more checking in —they went after her. This isn’t a scare tactic, it’s retaliation. Theyknowwe’re onto them, and this proves it.”
Everyone in the room went still, the kind of quiet that only came when everyone agreed with the words but no one wanted to hear them.
“They’re worried,” I went on, voice low and furious. “Which means we’re finally making the right noise, but they didn’t come at me, they went after her . And that—” I stabbed a finger toward the table “—means we’re getting too damn close, so we need someone to watch her.”
Judd exhaled through his nose, then turned to the monitor on the wall. With a few taps on the remote, he pulled up a video still. The Chief—Randolph Topper—standing outside an old building in Palmerstown, shaking hands with two men we’d identified weeks ago as members of the money laundering and prostitution ring infecting the town like rot beneath the surface. The footage was clear, damning even, but it wasn’tenough.
“Without stronger evidence,” Judd said grimly, “we can’t get a warrant or a task force yet.”
“They’re coming home tomorrow,” I said, cutting through the tension, “Kairo and Kaida. I’m working from home for the rest of the week.”
“You need protection,” Judd replied immediately. “Call Enclave Security—let them do a full install on your property. You need to lock that place down, Roque.”
Imogen looked up from her notes, her voice calm but pointed. “They’re targeting you because you have a weakness.”
I looked at her, throat tight.
“Sayla,” she said. “You care about her. They know it, that’s why they went after her.”
She wasn’t wrong, but hearing it aloud made my chest burn. What if it’d been worse? What if they’d done more than slash a tire? What if the kids had been with her?
I gripped the edge of the table hard enough that my knuckles cracked.
“I’ve got it handled,” Judd said, his voice softer now. “I’ll call in the security team myself. My guy’s the best, former Army. He’ll make sure your place is a fortress before those kids walk through the door.”
I nodded once, it was all I could manage without grinding my teeth to dust.
We tried to refocus after that—shifting back to the flow of money, surveillance updates, tracing new shell businesses cropping up. The whole time, though, I couldn’t shake the image of Sayla standing next to her car, a knife sticking out of the tire, her eyes scanning the parking lot for someone who meant her harm.
She wasn’t a target, she was mine . And they knew it.
Just as I was gathering my things to leave, the door creaked open, and a lab tech walked in—mid-twenties, slight, always caffeinated.
“I’ve got three prints off the knife,” he said. “All partials, but clean. Should have an AFIS hit soon.”
I let out a slow breath, releasing some of the pressure in my chest.
“Thanks,” I said, clapping his shoulder as I passed.
Then I walked out, got into my SUV, and headed straight home. I needed to see her, look her in the eyes, and know she was okay. Because until I did, nothing else mattered.
I barely waited for the engine to shut off before I was out of the SUV and heading toward the house. The door shut behind me, and I called out without removing my boots.
“Sayla?”
No answer.
My heart jumped, a rush of cold panic moving through me like a reflex. “Sayla?” I called louder this time, moving through the kitchen, past the living room, into the hallway.
Nothing.
My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to think the worst, but after the tire and how those guys stared her down, it didn’t take much to send me into full defense mode.
Then I heard something—music, faint and muffled. I followed the sound to the far end of the hall and paused outside Kairo’s room. The door was open, just a crack, and there she was.
She had her back to me, AirPods in, gently shaking out the comforter she’d bought today, the empty bags still scattered on the floor. The fireman puppy stared up from the fabric with cartoonish determination. Books were lined up neatly on the dresser, and a small beanbag sat by the window, with folded clothes stacked on the shelf like she'd been doing this for years.
I didn’t want to startle her, so I quietly backed away and slipped into the room next door—Kaida’s.
The second I stepped inside, I stopped cold. The room was bathed in soft, shifting colors—the projector casting ribbons of green and purple across the walls like a moving watercolor painting. A ballerina pig twirled on the comforter, her matching cushion nestled perfectly in place at the head of the bed. Two star-shaped pillows were tucked near the wall, and a second beanbag chair sat by the window, ready for tiny legs to climb into it and make it their own.
I sat down on the edge of the drawer unit, rested my elbows on my knees, and let my head hang forward. My eyes closed. So much was happening. Too much, too fast.
Kemble and Aislinn weregone. The ache from that hadn’t even settled yet and hadn’t found a place to land inside me. I hadn’t even started funeral arrangements—not because I didn’t know what they wanted, but because I couldn’t bring myself to start . Kemble had written it all down like he’d known someone might need it one day, but the words on that paper felt like a wall I couldn’t climb.
And yet, here was Sayla—stepping in, doing the work, and setting up ahomelike this was already her life, too.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, breathing slowly, trying to untangle everything.
That’s when I realized I might be in love with her. And just like that, I was wondering if she loved me too.
What should’ve been a beautiful realization felt overshadowed by the dark cloud hovering over it. I wasn’t just some guy navigating new feelings. I was a cop in the middle of a dangerous investigation, being targeted . And now, I had two kids depending on me, grieving and needing security I wasn’t sure I could fully give them.
Sayla walked in, holding a beanbag in her arms. The second she saw me, she squeaked and nearly dropped it. “Jesus, Roque! You scared the crap out of me.”
I smiled weakly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
She set the beanbag down and walked toward me, tilting her head. “You okay?”
I nodded slowly. “Just… been a rough day. And I’m worried about you.”
Sayla waved a hand dismissively. “It was probably just some punk kids trying to act tough. Tire slashers, mall creepers, it happens all the time.”
I didn’t argue. I just shrugged like I didn’t want to talk about how real the threat felt.
Instead, she pulled out her phone and sat beside me on the drawer unit, opening tabs as she scrolled through. “Okay, so—I found some storage bins, books, and toys. I’ll hold off on decals until we know what they’re into, but this adorable forest animal set might be a winner. And pajamas. They’re not fancy, but they’re cute and cozy.”
I watched her scroll, swipe, and explain. Her brow furrowed in focus, her mouth tugging into a smile when she showed me something with tiny antlers on it. That warmth in my chest expanded until it ached.
Yep, I was in love with her.
But instead of saying it, I leaned back and said, “I’m giving you the money to get them whatever they need. And I’m paying you back for everything you bought today.”
She looked up at me, brows already pulling together. “Roque, no. You don’t have to?—”
“I do.” I stood and gestured toward the front of the house. “Come on.”
She followed me, confused until we reached the front door. I pointed across the street at her house.
“That’s a money pit,” I said, deadpan. “Trust me, you’re gonna need every penny you can find. If you see one on the floor, pick it up because you’ll need it.”
She blinked, then laughed, and I saw the tension ease from her shoulders.
I didn’t tell her how I felt, but I’d just handed her the reins to the most important part of my life.
And maybe that said it all.
Up until that night, our sex had always carried a wild urgency, like we were racing against time—starved for each other, devouring every touch in a rush. Sayla craved it hard and fast, and I’d always met her there, matching that intensity. But tonight, the energy had shifted. There was no frenzy, no need to rush. We both needed something different—something slower, more deliberate. We needed to feel everything.
In the dim, golden light washing over the room, I let my eyes linger on her—tracing every curve and memorizing how her chest rose and fell with each breath. I wanted to take my time, to worship her body like it was the last time I’d ever touch it—because maybe it was, at least for a while. Tomorrow she wouldn’t be next to me. We didn’t know when the next time would be, and that uncertainty made me ravenous, but not in the usual way. I wanted to savor her. Stretch out every second.
I kissed my way up the soft inside of her thigh, inch by inch, each press of my mouth pulling a subtle tremble from her. My problems faded with each touch, falling away like ash in the wind. When I reached the top of her thighs, I hovered there for a moment, just breathing her in. God, I loved this woman—her scent, her heat, the way her body responded to mine without hesitation.
Just as I was about to taste her, Sayla stirred and whispered my name. “Roque.”
My gaze flicked up. She was propped on her elbows, eyes dark and burning.
“I want your cock in my mouth at the same time,” she said, voice low and sure.
Jesus. My breath caught in my throat.
Without a word, I slid off the bed, my hands on her hips, guiding her down so that her head dangled just over the edge of the mattress. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as her fingers reached back, wrapping around me, stroking with slow, confident pressure.
She bent her legs, planted her feet, and spread herself open, giving me a perfect view of her glistening core from where I stood. My mouth went dry. Seeing her like that—offering herself so completely—set something loose inside me.
I dropped on her like a starving man, burying my face between her thighs as she pulled me into her mouth. Her lips were warm, soft, and wet, and the way she moaned around me made my knees buckle.
It was our first time in this position—me standing, her lying back, both of us giving and taking at once. She couldn’t bob her head easily from that angle, so she used her hands instead, gripping my ass and urging me deeper with slow, aching control.
I used my own hands to spread her wider, drinking in the way her slick heat pulsed under my tongue. I focused on her clit, sucking it into my mouth, rolling it gently as I moaned against her. Her hips jolted like a live wire had touched her skin, twitching with need. I lifted my head slightly, spit-slick fingers sliding into my mouth before pressing two deep inside her. She was soaked—tight and ready, like always—and it made my cock throb inside her mouth, knowing I had her this way.
I loved how responsive she was and how completely she gave herself to the moment. Every sigh, twitch of her muscles, and shiver she tried and failed to suppress was all for me.
And I was going to make sure she remembered it.
I tried—really tried—not to lose myself in what she was doing to me. Even though I was in control of how deep I was inside her mouth, I focused on her. My lips clamped around her clit while my fingers moved rhythmically inside her, curling just right. I was determined to push her over the edge before I let go.
And then I felt it—the way her body tensed, her walls fluttering around my fingers, the muffled cry she let out with my cock still in her mouth. Her moans sent shuddering vibrations down my length, a jolt of pleasure that coiled in my spine and shot straight to my core. It nearly brought me to my knees.
Still, I didn’t stop. I worked her through it, kept sucking, kept stroking until her body jolted beneath me. She was too sensitive, her hips bucking involuntarily, trying to escape the overstimulation. I hadn’t let go—but she did.
With a wet pop, her mouth slipped off me, and she moved quickly, breathless and wild-eyed. In the blink of an eye, her pussy was in front of me again, her hand reaching out, eager to guide me back inside her.
“I want you inside me,” she panted, her voice rough with need.
That was almost enough to short-circuit every rational thought I had. But I forced myself to stay focused—just long enough to fumble in the drawer beside the bed. My hand almost instantly closed around the familiar foil packet, tearing it open with practiced urgency.
She was still reaching for me when I rolled the condom on, and by the time I positioned myself between her thighs, I was shaking with restraint. I guided my tip to her entrance, and as her heat and tightness began to envelop me, I exhaled hard—like I’d been holding my breath since the moment she pulled her mouth off me.
Sliding inside her was like coming home. Slowly, I pushed in, inch by inch, savoring every moment her body welcomed mine.
I ran a hand up her body, tracing the line of her ribs and the swell of her breast until I reached her throat. My palm rested there, not applying pressure, just grounding us in the moment. My body was over hers now, close enough to feel her breath against my lips, and I looked down at her—flushed, open, completely mine.
Looking down into her eyes, I let my hand trail gently along her side, anchoring myself to her softness, to the moment. My voice was low, almost reverent, as I whispered, “Slowly. I want to take my time tonight, to really feel you. I want to leave something behind—so deep inside you, you’ll never forget I was here.”
Her expression shifted, softened, like my words settled into some part of her she hadn’t been expecting me to touch. She blinked up at me, eyes wide and vulnerable, then said with a quiet, unshakable certainty, “I never forget when you’ve been inside me.”
God, that answer hit me in the chest.
But still, I meant what I said. I needed more than just the act—I needed the memory to last.
So I moved slowly, guiding myself into her with control, each inch a deliberate decision. There was no rush. Just heat, tension, and the intimacy of two people who knew this might have to carry them for a while. We never broke eye contact, not once. I watched every flicker of pleasure on her face, every twitch of her lips, every flutter of her lashes until I was buried in her completely.
Only then did I close my eyes and drop my forehead to her shoulder, needing a moment to breathe. To not come too soon. To stay in the moment without letting it consume me.
When I felt steady again, I whispered for her to wrap her legs around my waist. She did without hesitation, locking us together. My hands gripped her hips, grounding me as I slowly stood, lifting her lower body with me. Her body adjusted perfectly like she was made to fit me this way.
With each stroke, I moved in and out of her with slow, measured thrusts. I wasn’t just fucking her—I was learning her all over again. Memorizing the way her body hugged mine, the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her eyes fluttered when I hit that spot inside her. I absorbed everything—how she felt, how she looked, how she sounded because I didn’t know what the next few weeks would hold. I didn’t know if we’d get another night like this, but I’d take this with me. I’d carry it. And if the silence or distance got too loud, this would be what I returned to.
And when it finally happened—when we came together, bodies trembling, hearts pounding in sync—it felt like I had done exactly what I set out to do. I had marked her, left a part of myself buried deep inside, even if there was the barrier of the condom between us.
The aftershocks hit harder than I expected. So hard I almost let it show. I almost let my emotions spill out in the open where I couldn’t take them back.
Almost.