16. Levi
LEVI
I park my car and drag my hood up over my head, making my way to the old warehouse to the south of downtown Seattle.
It’s late, almost three in the morning, and there’s not a soul in sight. Usually, I’d be drunk or dragging a pretty girl into my bed, but since that night on the couch a few days ago, I haven’t felt like doing either.
—Not unless it involves the one thing I can’t have.
Fucking figures.
My instincts told me to ignore the call I got earlier today, asking me to come here, but I must be a masochist.
Why else would I insist my little brunette housekeeper take the room across the hall from me and not the perfectly open one down by Javier’s?
I step through the side door they told me would be unlocked into the dark warehouse. The only light is one in the center of the room.
The place looks abandoned, with a few old crates and nothing more. The silence is loud, ringing in my ears with each scuff of my boots on the broken concrete.
“You brought me out here at two in the morning. The least you could do is show your face.”
A throat clears behind me, and I turn, finding the last person I thought I’d see here tonight.
“Marks.”
“Hello, Mr. Cross.”
“Levi,” I correct. I fucking hate being called Mr. Cross. Reminds me of my father. “Just Levi.”
“Very well,” Marks says, stalking into the ring of light in the center of the old, decrepit warehouse. “I trust you came alone?”
“I know you didn’t.”
He chuckles under his breath, shoving his hands in the pockets of his overcoat.
“On the contrary, you won’t find anyone here but me.”
“Scared?”
“Opportunistic,” he retorts.
Marks has always been “opportunistic”. He’s older, in his early fifties, with a penchant for being ruthless as they come. I guess when you’ve got more money than God, you can afford to be a dick.
“I appreciate you meeting with me on such short notice.”
I stand back and light the end of my cigarette. No need to stand on formalities. I already lost my job.
“Yeah, well, I have somewhere to be, so if we could make this quick.”
I know I’m being rude. I don’t give a fuck.
I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me. No use pretending any different.
“Of course. Time is precious. I imagine you have loads of it now that you’re not working.”
Fucking dick.
He smiles, knowing he won.
“What’s this about?” I gesture to the warehouse around us. “You bring me out here to kill me?”
“On the contrary, I came to make you a deal.”
I can’t help but scoff.
“I don’t make deals with criminals.”
Marks smirks, ignoring me. “I recently came into some information.”
“Good for you. What’s that got to do with me?”
He chuckles under his breath.
“This is why I’ve always liked you, Cross. You don’t like to fuck around.
I shrug. “Like it even less, now.”
He chuckles under his breath, eyeing me. “Funny thing, loyalty. One minute, you’re one of the best agents on payroll, then the next, you’re cast out to the wind with charges hanging over your head.”
“You going to keep being an elusive dick all night, or are you going to explain what the fuck you’re talking about?”
“What if I told you I know who’s been stalking your little girlfriend?”
I freeze.
Well, fuck.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Senator Johathan Wright ring any bells?”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” he cocks a brow.
“He’s dead. You shot him.”
“He is . . . but does that mean he’s no longer a threat?”
I narrow my eyes, searching his face for a tell, some flicker of uncertainty that might give away the bluff. But Marks doesn’t flinch—he never does. He’s the kind of bastard who could stare you down while stabbing a knife in your back.
“You’re saying Wright’s alive?” I ask slowly, the smoke from my cigarette curling between us.
Marks tilts his head, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “No . . . Capable from beyond the grave? That’s another story. I’ve seen ghosts before, Levi. This one happens to be pulling strings from the shadows—and those strings lead straight to Wright.”
My stomach tightens, but I keep my face blank. “If that’s true, you’d have taken it straight to your people.”
“Not this.” His eyes glint. “There’s a leak in the DEA. I don’t know who I can trust—except, ironically, the last man I should.”
I narrow my eyes. “And that would be me?”
Marks spreads his hands like it’s obvious. “You’re already out. No badge, no leash, no stake in the game. That makes you dangerous—but it also makes you useful. You’re the fork in their plan they didn’t see coming.”
“Or maybe you’re just setting me up again.”
His smile twitches. “If I wanted you gone, you wouldn’t be standing here.”
I can’t help but chuckle darkly.
“Why me?” I ask.
He steps into the light, the shadows cutting sharper lines across his face. “Because the person I’m hunting has a very personal interest in something of mine. Wright’s not the one you should be afraid of.”
“Then who?”
He steps closer, his shoes crunching on the grit-strewn concrete, and lowers his voice like the walls might be bugged. “There’s someone else. Someone inside. Clever. Careful. Invisible when he needs to be. I don’t have a name yet . . . just whispers.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
“Because,” Marks says, his gaze boring into mine, “Two nights ago, one of my informants turned up dead. And the last thing they sent me before they disappeared was a single word.”
I arch a brow. “Which was?”
“Black.”
Interesting.
“That’s it? That’s your smoking gun?”
“I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me. Really listen.” He lowers his voice, glancing around the empty warehouse. For the first time since I met him, Marks looks nervous.
I don’t fucking like it.
“Your life isn’t the only one in danger.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Marks smirks and steps closer, finally tossing me the folder he’s been holding the entire time. I take it and open it up to the first page.
The blood rushes in my ears when I look down into the soft green eyes in the photograph staring back at me.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“She’s got nothing to do with this?”
“No,” Marks agrees, though his stare darkens when he looks down at the photograph in my hand. “But do you think they’ll care about that?”
“So, what? You’re threatening her?”
I’ll fucking kill him.
“Not at all,” Marks says. “Though, I think you and I both know that’s never really mattered.”
She doesn’t know I’m here.
She hasn’t known I’m here all week. Watching from the shadows. Waiting for her to slip up.
I’ve watched her . . . memorized her routine. I’ve gone through every detail of her life with a fine-tooth comb.
She’s younger than I thought, at twenty-three.
The only child of her addict mother, with whom she’s been estranged for some time.
Her father was never in the picture, though I already knew that.
She lived with her grandmother until six months ago, when she took this job.
She graduated from high school with straight As and a scholarship to Brown, where she didn’t attend because her grandmother fell ill.
Her grandmother’s in debt. Massively. Ava’s been covering most of the bills, but she’s falling behind, and now, her grandmother’s spot at the nursing home is in danger.
She works. Visits Gran, as she calls her. Goes for walks along the hiking paths that fill our forest, and otherwise, is a good little girl who follows all the rules.
Ava Ryan has to be the most boring person I’ve ever met.
On the surface.
Behind closed doors, well . . . I already know that’s a lie, but it seems not many know that secret side of her. The one that craves the darkness as much as breathing. Who loves to be chased in the woods and fucked in the dirt like a slut.
I won’t lie and say it doesn’t fill me with a dark sense of joy to know that she’s only bad for me. Only I know this side of the prudish, gorgeous little housekeeper.
Or so I thought.
She’s hiding something. I’m not a fucking idiot, but what I am is patient. I’ve followed her for three days now, but she’s yet to make a phone call, speak to someone, or even breathe a name I haven’t heard.
I just need one name. One, and I’ll have all the evidence I need.
Either she’s lying, or she’s already become a pawn in this game. Either way, I’ll get to the bottom of it.
Ava’s a smart girl. She knows how to hide behind the crowd well. Unfortunately, she’s never been able to hide from me , and my little ghost will soon come to learn I’m the only one she can trust in this world.
I told myself I wasn’t going to let it get this far, but staring out into the woods surrounding my cabin, I know I can’t stop. I’m too fucking gone.
I can’t get her moans out of my head. Her desperate little whimpers and that sweet voice crying out for me while I made her come.
Not to mention the dirty looks she shoots my way whenever I see her. They’re fucking addicting. She’s exactly what I’ve needed and everything I can’t have.
Until now . . .
Fuck . . . I’ve jacked off three times in the last twenty-four hours, and even if my cock is sore from how many times I’ve come, it’s not enough.
The need to unravel her secrets one by one until there’s not a single thought in that pretty little head I don’t consume gnaws at me.
It’s so far past a desire at this point, even I can’t help but wonder for my fucking sanity.
If I thought I understood this . . . obsession before, that ship has sailed. I’m officially losing my goddamned mind, and the little brunette brat that sleeps across the hall from me is the culprit.
I down the glass of whiskey beside me, letting the burn coat my throat and push away the disturbing thoughts that have been swirling through my head since I chased her through the forest.
I set my empty glass down on the desk beside me. I don’t come out here often?—not anymore—but I needed to think.
It’s a stupid plan. One that’s only going to make this harder in the long run.
Most people would recommend committing me.
Most people don’t have little Miss Ava Ryan living across the hall from them, with her pretty fucking smile, either.
All I need to do is get her out of my system, and when I’m done with her, she’ll move on, and I’ll be free of this . . . burden eating away at me. I can detach myself once she’s not the unobtainable prize.
I’ll hold up my end of the deal. Then, I’ll let her go.
Looking up at the wooden beams that run across the cabin, I can’t help but chuckle.
Ava has no idea what’s coming, but I meant what I said. I gave her three days to think I’d forgotten about her sneaking around in my room.
Unfortunately for her, I’m a Cross. We don’t forget.
She’ll tell me her secrets and if I have to fuck them out of her, well then . . . I guess I’m willing to take one for the team.