Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
Layla
R iver and I descended the stairs, our footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. The air was thick with dust and the musty scent of a long-abandoned building. Weak sunlight filtered through grimy windows.
As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard voices coming from what appeared to be a sitting room off to the right. My hand instinctively went to the gun tucked into the waistband of my borrowed jeans, but River's shoulders were relaxed, so I wasn’t too worried.
We rounded the corner into a spacious room dominated by mismatched furniture draped in dusty white sheets. Alex lounged against a weathered fireplace mantle, his usual cocky smirk firmly in place despite the dark circles under his eyes.
But it was the two figures standing by the bay window that drew my attention. Gage's lean frame was silhouetted against the dirty glass, tension radiating from every line of his body. And beside him...
"Sarge," I breathed, relief flooding through me at the sight of him.
A string of colorful curses fell from his lips. Before I could blink, he crossed the room in three long strides. His arms engulfed me, crushing me against his broad chest. The familiar scent of leather and tobacco washed over me as he buried his face in my hair. For a moment, I let myself melt.
Then Sarge pulled back, his palms framing my face as he studied me intently. His dark eyes were suspiciously bright as they roamed over every inch of me, cataloging injuries both visible and not.
Without warning, he crushed his lips to mine in a bruising kiss. It was desperate, and full of knee shaking relief. I kissed him back just as fiercely.
When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Sarge rested his forehead against mine. "Did they hurt you, baby? Tell me the truth."
I managed a weak smirk, despite the lump in my throat. "Only my pride. But don't worry, River and Alex made damn sure they didn't get a chance to do it twice."
Sarge's eyes flicked to River, who stood silently behind me. Something unspoken passed between the two men—a shared understanding.
I turned to Alex next, my heart clenching at the sight of him. Despite his casual stance, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. I crossed the room to him.
His arms opened for me automatically, and I stepped into his embrace. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck. For a moment, we just held each other, his heart beating steadily against my chest.
When I pulled back, my hands came up to frame his face. My thumbs traced the dark circles under his eyes, the faint bruises along his jaw. "I thought you were a goner," I whispered, my voice thick.
Alex's lips quirked into that infuriating smirk I loved so much. "You know it takes more than a few trigger-happy cops to take me out. I'm too pretty to die."
Before he could say another stupid word, I crushed my lips to his. The kiss was desperate and deep, all teeth and tongue as I poured every ounce of relief and longing into it. Alex responded with equal desperation, one hand tangling in my hair while the other gripped my hip possessively.
When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Alex’s eyes moved over my shoulder, and his expression hardened. I tensed, knowing I was out of options and I’d have to face Gage.
I spun, pinning my flare on him, folding my arms over my chest. “Let me guess. They were friends of yours?”
"Not friends," he said finally, his voice rough. "Not anymore."
He told me about his buddies from back at the field office. Friends of his that had gone through the academy with him and Leon, and that guy I killed—Charlie. They were pissed, and wanted revenge for their friend’s deaths. It wasn’t surprising. Cops were all a bunch of corrupt motherfuckers. We were called criminals, and yet they did the same shit, and got away with it. They were killers just like we were, only their badges gave them the license to do so without repercussions.
“How did they know where we were? I thought the safe house was safe.”
Gage's eyes flicked to the others in the room before settling back on me. "Sarah and Charlie were involved. Romantically. Had been for months before he died. They kept it quiet—Department regulations and all that. But they were serious. Charlie had even talked about proposing."
I could see the pain etched in the lines of his face. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"You think she tipped them off," I finished for him, my voice flat.
Gage nodded, his expression grim. "It's the only thing that makes sense. I just never thought she’d stoop so low. She was a rule follower, and always protected the innocent. She wanted to keep Claudia safe, but I just… I just know it was her.”
“And where is my mom, anyway?”
“On her way to the villa with Tomasso and Effren. We got her out of there as soon as we could. She’ll be safe at home.”
Home.
He said it like it was still his home to claim. As if he was still welcome there.
The next day, we arrived back in New Mexico. It felt surreal to be back, like everything that had happened was some sort of fucked up fever dream. Enforcers patrolled the property, guards at the watchtowers waving us through the gates. The recent attack had clearly put everyone on high alert. Good. We couldn't afford to let our guard down again.
I climbed out of the SUV, my muscles protesting after hours of travel. Sarge was at my side, his warm hand resting protectively on the small of my back.
As we made our way inside, River veered off, leading Gage towards white room. We had to be careful, even though every cell in my body protested. He knew what that room was used for, had probably imagined it countless times during his undercover stint. Now he was about to experience it firsthand.
Sarge and I headed to Raul’s office—my office now, I guess, while Alex went to check on Claudia. My mom was probably terrified. I was told they’d placed her in the guest house, away from the main building that had blast marks and bullet holes from the attack.
As we walked down the long hallway, I couldn't help but notice the way the staff averted their eyes. I straightened my spine, chin held high. I wouldn't show weakness, not now.
As Sarge and I entered the office, I was struck by how different it felt. The room that had once been Raul's sanctuary now seemed to pulse with a new energy.
The space was already filled with familiar faces—our most trusted lieutenants and highest-ranking enforcers. Diego leaned against the bookshelf, his dark eyes watchful as always. Mateo and Carlos flanked the oak desk. In the corner, Emilio lounged in a leather armchair, sitting up as I entered. Tomasso, Vinny and Effren were helping River with Gage, but they’d join us soon.
I made my way to the desk, my fingers trailing over the smooth surface. How many times had I stood on the other side, waiting for Raul's judgment? Now it was my turn to sit in the seat of power.
As I settled into the high-backed chair, I felt the rightness of it settle over me. This empire was mine now, as it was always meant to be. These men had been loyal to Raul for years, some for decades.
"Gentlemen, as you're aware, we've suffered a significant blow. Our security was compromised, and we barely got out. We know the feds are behind it. A small group of them decided to go rogue after we killed their buddies at the docks.” I sat back in the chair. “We’ll retaliate immediately. I won’t give them time to lick their wounds.”
"Thanks to our... guest in the white room, we now have insider information. Gage will provide us with detailed intel on their home base—the layout, security protocols, personnel rotations. Everything we need to strike hard and fast." I paused, letting the implications sink in. "We're going to hit them where it hurts most. One clean sweep to take out the entire unit."
Diego pushed off from the bookshelf. "You're talking about a direct assault on a federal building. That's suicide."
I smiled coldly. "It would be, if we were going in blind. But we're not. We'll have every advantage—the element of surprise, insider knowledge, and one of their own.”
"Hey there, beautiful," I cooed, scooping Samantha up into my arms the moment I stepped into my bedroom. Her purr rumbled against my chest as I buried my face in her soft fur. "You wouldn't believe the week I've had."
I set Samantha down on the bed, giving her one last scratch behind the ears before heading to the shower. The hot water was heavenly, soothing my aching muscles and washing away the grime of the past few days. I stood under the spray for longer than necessary, letting the steam envelop me like a cocoon.
As I stepped out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel, I caught sight of my reflection in the foggy mirror. Faint bruises still marred my skin. I traced the outline of a particularly nasty one on my ribs, remembering the boot that had put it there.
I dried off and slipped into a simple black dress. The soft fabric clung to my curves, the hemline hitting just above my knees. I paired it with my favorite red heels, and then made my way downstairs.
The villa was quiet, most of the staff giving me a wide berth. I stepped out into the balmy evening air, the scent of the day’s heat heavy on the breeze. As I approached the small cottage, warm light spilled from the windows. I hesitated for a moment at the door, my hand hovering as I debated whether or not to knock. But Sarge and I were long past those formalities. I turned the knob and stepped inside.
The interior was warm and inviting. Rich leather furniture and dark wood accents gave the space a masculine energy that was perfectly Sargent Silva. The air was thick with steam, scented with his signature blend of sandalwood and tobacco.
"Sarge?" I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet space.
A muffled response came from the direction of the bedroom. I made my way down the short hallway, my heels clicking against the hardwood floors. As I rounded the corner into the master suite, I was greeted by a sight that made my blood catch fire.
Sarge had just emerged from the shower, water still beading on his bronzed skin. A towel hung low on his hips. His long hair dripped onto his chest, and my mouth literally watered.
The air between us felt charged, crackling with the tension we'd been dancing around for years. My skin tingled with awareness, every nerve ending hypersensitive to his gaze. I thought back to the last time we'd been this close—his tongue working magic between my thighs in the jet bathroom. I licked my suddenly dry lips, my eyes never leaving his.
"Lala," Sarge said, his voice low and rough.
“Sarge,” I said back, a small smile stretching my lips as I ran my eyes deliberately up and down his body.
Sarge's eyes darkened, hunger etched in every line of his face. "Fuck it," he growled, closing the distance between us in two long strides.
His large hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly as he spun and pressed me against the wall. The cool surface was a shock against my heated skin. My legs wrapped around his hips instinctively, the towel falling away as I felt the hard length of him press against my pussy.
Sarge's fingers hooked under the thin straps of my dress, yanking them down roughly. The delicate fabric tore, exposing my breasts. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he lowered his head, capturing one nipple between his lips.
I gasped, arching into him as his tongue swirled around the sensitive peak. One hand tangled in his damp hair, holding him close as I moaned. Sarge's hips ground against me, the friction delicious even through the thin layer of fabric still between us. I could feel how hard he was, how desperately he wanted this. Wanted me.
"Sarge," I moaned, my head falling back against the wall as he switched his attention to my other breast. "Please..."
He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. "Tell me what you want, baby girl. You want me to fuck this pretty pussy the way you deserve?" Reaching between us, he snaked his fingers under my dress before roughly ripping my lacy underwear off. “Do you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of you in the room?”
I whimpered, my hips grinding shamelessly against him. "I need you…" I breathed.
His fingers teased along my wet pussy, gathering my wetness before circling my clit. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
"That's it, baby," Sarge murmured, his lips brushing my ear. "Let me hear how much you want it." He slid two thick fingers inside me, curling them just right. My inner walls clenched around him as pure, white-hot pleasure shot through me. "Fuck, you're so damn perfect."
I fumbled to snake my hand between us, desperate to feel him. Sarge batted my hand away. The blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance, making me gasp. He didn’t need my help to line himself up. He was fucking ready.
"Look at me," Sarge commanded.
I forced my eyes open, meeting his dark gaze. Slowly, torturously, he pushed inside. I moaned as he stretched me, filling me completely. He was so fucking thick. So long and deliciously thick, and warm and hard.
"That's my good girl," he praised, beginning to move. He leaned in, capturing my lower lip with his teeth, biting gently. I groaned.
His thrusts were hard and deep, each one punctuated by a grunt. I clung to him, meeting him stroke for stroke, writhing in his lap as he held me against the wall, my thighs braced around his hips.
How many times had I imagined this exact scenario? How many times did I moan his name in the dark of my room at night?
I whimpered, clinging to his broad shoulders as he pounded into me relentlessly. Every thrust sent waves of insane pleasure coursing through my body, setting my nerve endings on fire. The coarse hair on his chest rubbed deliciously against my sensitive nipples with each movement.
"That's it," Sarge praised, his breath hot against my neck. "Take it all, sweetheart. You're doing so fucking good."
He growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight to my core. Without warning, he gripped my ass tightly and pushed off from the wall. I gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he carried me across the room, still buried deep inside me.
Each step jostled me, making me bounce harder on his length. My head fell back, exposing my throat to his hungry mouth. Sarge took full advantage, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he walked.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck—" I chanted, my filter completely gone as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. "I... oh god... I love you…"
The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them, raw and honest in the heat of the moment. Sarge's steps faltered for just a second before he growled again, the sound animal and possessive. We reached the bed and he lowered me onto the soft mattress, never breaking our connection.
Sweat glistened on his bronzed skin, droplets rolling down the defined planes of his chest and abs. I reached up, running my hands over his slick muscles, marveling at the way they flexed and rippled beneath my touch. His long hair fell around us like a curtain, tickling my face and shoulders.
I could see the muscles in his jaw working as he gritted his teeth, fighting for control. "Fuck, Lala. I've been such a goddamn idiot." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust. "All these years," Sarge continued, his breath coming in harsh pants. "All this time, I've been fighting it. Telling myself I couldn't have you. That I didn't deserve you."
His hand slid up my body, calloused fingers trailing fire across my heated skin. He cupped my face, thumb tracing my lower lip as he stared into my eyes. Sarge's thrusts slowed, becoming deep and deliberate.
"I love you, Lala."
I reached up, tangling my fingers in his damp hair and pulling him down for a searing kiss. Our lips moved together desperately, tongues tangling and teeth clashing. It was violent and angry and such a goddamn fucking relief that I could have passed out.
"I love you," I gasped against his lips, the words tumbling out between moans. "Fuck, I love you?—"
Sarge moaned, his hips stuttering as he followed me over the edge as I came hard. I felt the hot pulse of his cum, flooding me as his cock throbbed inside me. He continued to move inside me, his thrusts becoming slower and more languid as he rode out the waves. I could feel his hot cum coating my pussy, some of it seeping out and trickling down my thighs with each gentle thrust.
His lips found mine again, the kiss deep and sensual and slow. Our tongues danced lazily as he rocked his hips, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. The oversensitivity bordered on painful, but in the most delicious way. I never wanted it to end.
I ran my fingers through his hair, savoring the silky texture. Our bodies were slick with sweat, sliding together as Sarge continued to move inside me at an achingly slow pace. I could feel every ridge, every vein of his thick cock as he withdrew almost completely before sinking back in.
He broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jaw, then down the column of my throat. I tilted my head, giving him better access as he lavished attention on my pulse. "You're so damn beautiful," he murmured against my skin between soft kisses. "I knew one day you’d bring me to my fucking knees."