Chapter twenty-four
Titan MMA Gym
Damon
Emma grasps for her discarded leggings and jumps to pull them on.
Hunter and Greyson continue to walk toward us, completely unflustered.
I stand and move in front of the poor woman I was fucking moments ago in a sad attempt to create some privacy while she covers her bare ass.
I quickly readjust my shorts and straighten to my full height.
“Turn around, you pair of bastards,” I growl, and they both respond with a grin. “Give us a moment.”
“I certainly didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” Hunter says, completely ignoring my suggestion he look away.
“Especially this much of you,” Greyson adds and chuckles.
“Fuck off, both of you.” Emma appears at my shoulder; she stands slightly behind me, half obscured from the view of the two men. I step backward around her, then slide my arm around her waist and pull her to me. She relaxes under my touch. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Not the same thing you’re doing, unfortunately,” Hunter jibes, then winks at my companion.
When I glance at her, her face, neck, and chest are the same color as her pink cropped top.
I flex my fingers against her skin in comfort.
“What self-defense move did he tell you that was?”
Hunter asks cheekily. “Defeat them with the doggy?”
He cackles, and Greyson snorts loudly then covers his nose and mouth with his hand.
“Ignore them, Spitfire,” I tell her. “They’re jealous, probably here to do the same but with each other.”
“Nicknames now?” Hunter taunts, cocking an eyebrow. “Must be serious.” I narrow my eyes at him, and he shrugs.
“Why are you here?” I repeat, wanting to move the conversation forward and away from my sex life.
Hunter bends his elbows and raises his hands before clenching his fists. He bounces from foot to foot, then pretends to jab at my arm. “We’re in my gym, not a brothel, so I was planning on working out. Greyson is here to give me something to punch that moves.”
“I’m here to kick your ass,” he counters.
Emma stands silently beside me. I’m aware of her looking around the space but never at either man in front of us. She leans into my side, and I tighten my hold slightly on her.
“I’m sorry,” she says, surprising us all. “I’m sorry you both walked in on us having sex in your gym.” The men fall silent and stare at her; Hunter’s mouth twists into a dark smile. “It was inappropriate.”
He steps forward and offers her his hand, his eyes hold hers for a beat. She takes it. “My friend is smiling for the first time in months,” he says. “You have nothing to apologize for. But don’t wear him out tonight; we have a busy day tomorrow, and I need Damon on top form.”
“Tomorrow?” Emma asks as she shakes his hand. “You all have plans tomorrow?”
“Oh, we have a little sting organized,” he tells her and grins. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to warn him not to continue with the tale. The last thing I want is to give Emma something else to worry about.
“A sting?”
“Yes, just some surveillance and information collecting, but it will be oh so much fun.” He claps his hands together. “See you then, McKinney.” He dispenses his farewell, and the two men turn to walk over to the nearby punching bags.
Emma blinks up at me with wide eyes. She smiles softly; the pink embarrassment that was covering her body has receded to only a glow on her cheeks. I trail my fingers across her back then take her hand closest to me.
“So, you’re happy?” she whispers.
“Very happy. Let’s go home and we can be happy together.”
***
The following morning, I arrive at the office for another day of feeling like we’re getting fucking nowhere.
As the years pass, it feels as though as a police officer our hands are tied tighter.
Every conviction requires more paperwork, more evidence, and ultimately more time to achieve.
It’s infuriating, especially when there’s no doubt that the person being investigated is guilty.
These past two years I’ve watched more criminals walk free than ever before—the systems that are meant to help us do our job seem only to make it more difficult.
Working as I do between the force and The Level means I tend to be privy to information people in this office don’t have.
I have other sources at my disposal, and often they can be utilized to create scenarios to help me do my job.
On more than one occasion Hunter and his men have set up a sting, only for my police team to swoop in and successfully capture the suspect.
The tradeoff—I ensure his underground operations go ahead with little to no disturbance from the police.
A dangerous but worthwhile agreement for me, since without his information it’s unlikely I would have been promoted as I have been.
Today, we have a briefing with regard to the money laundering case and threats to force members and their families.
Our small team of ten assembles in the meeting room as we do every time one of these gatherings are called.
The room resembles what you would expect a police office to.
It’s a reflection of what you see in crime TV series: a collection of plastic chairs, a coffee machine, and whiteboards with scribbles, photos, and lines connecting information.
We’re standing around talking over the known details of the case when Commissioner White enters the room.
He strides in and stands at the front as the door slams closed.
His furious gaze lands on me, and an uneasy feeling tickles my chest.
“Do we have any new information?” he barks.
“Is there anything any of you aren’t sharing with the team?”
I stare straight back at him, attempting to keep a blank expression on my face.
“You! Menzies!” he shouts, pointing to the officer beside me.
“You have been sitting on important info and not sharing it with the team.”
The younger officer opens his mouth to protest, but his jaw merely opens and recloses.
He visibly sags and drops his focus to between his feet.
“It has come to my attention that you were given data regarding a launderette business which has become one of the main money-washing fronts,” my boss continues.
“You decided to keep this to yourself and visit the premises in your own time. The owners have lodged a complaint. Please explain this lapse in judgment and how it would benefit the case in your opinion.”
“I made the best decision based on the information I had,” Menzies replies ambiguously. “There may be people within the team who have a personal interest in this case, which may cloud their judgment.” The younger officer’s eyes come to land on me, and I scowl at him.
“What are you implying?” I ask sharply.
“That I may not be the only person in this room hiding information, sir,” he says smoothly. “It can’t be forgotten that you have personally lost due to this case.”
“That’s not fucking new intelligence,” I growl. “My wife was murdered because of these bastards.” He raises his eyebrows. “I have more interest than anyone in this room to catch them.” He looks completely unruffled with my words.
“My informant has advised that the gang member who pulled the trigger causing your wife’s death has gone missing.”
“You know who killed my wife?”
“Yes,” he replies calmly. “And I believe you do too. My mole advised me that a young man known as Jed Black had been undertaking the steps of initiation into the gang. The final step required the murder of someone perceived as innocent. His target was Connie McKinney.”
“And is this informant also a member of this gang?” the commissioner asks.
“Yes, he had been at the meeting where Jed was given his target and told when the job was to take place.”
“Job, you fucking mean murder,” I snarl, and slam a fist onto the table beside me. The coffee cups stacked on the cheap wood vibrate with the impact, then the top one falls onto the floor and smashes. “He fucking murdered my wife.”
“McKinney,” my boss says quietly. “Calm down or I will need to ask you to leave. Carry on, Menzies.” He gestures with his hand, implying Menzies should continue.
“Jed has gone missing, and my mole has reason to believe he was taken by Hunter Devane.” The room falls silent, all eyes in the room focused on the man beside me. “I have reason to believe that McKinney works with Hunter Devane.”
“Pull the fucking other one.” The Commissioner laughs.
“You expect me to believe the head of the Irish mafia in London is a police informant. The man we spend hours trying to convict for anything we can pin on him?”
My heart which jumped into my throat lowers back into my chest. “Did your informant tell you this?”
“Yes,” Menzies replies confidently. “And I believe him.”
White’s gaze returns to me, and he smirks. “Any truth in this, McKinney? Are you secretly an accomplice to the mafia?”
I chuckle and shrug my shoulders. “I’ve been called worse,” I say then turn to the man trying to end my career with the truth, all the while wondering how the fuck he knows. “I think you need to better vet your informants, Menzies. You’re lucky I don’t take offense easily.”
He takes a step toward me and looks me directly in the eye. “I know you aren’t what you appear to be,” he says quietly. “And I’ll fucking prove it.”
***
The Level
“You’ll need to make a decision soon,” Harrison says. It is only him and I here so far; we’re waiting for the others to arrive before heading to the launderette. “If someone is talking to the police and linking you to Hunter, it’s only a matter of time before someone follows up on the information.”
“I know,” I mutter, pissed that he’s right.
“What stops you from working with Hunter full-time?” he asks honestly. We’ve had this conversation so many times before. How I can’t continue to work both sides of the law. How I need to pick a side. How it won’t be long before my two worlds collide, and the risks to everyone I’m involved with.
“I always wanted to be a cop,” I answer immediately. “Ever since I was a kid, all I wanted to be was one of the boys in blue.”
My mind wanders back to the day I officially became an officer and swore my allegiance to the force along with my fairness, integrity, diligence, and impartiality. How the fuck things change.