Committed (16 page)

Emilio strode up the walk, his gaze searching the flower bed.

He picked up a faux stone and slid a compartment open. The key was still there.

A sense of unease settled over him. The presence of the key didn’t mean anything. Valentina had one in her purse, so she wouldn’t have needed it to get into the house.

His crew might have abandoned him, the DEA scum might have wiped out his supplier, but his woman was faithful. She would be waiting for him.

The door squeaked as it swung inward, the house pitch black inside. He stepped in and closed the door, flipping the deadbolt behind him.

“Valentina?” he called.

Not a sound.

“Valentina, you here?”

There was no answer.

Emilio pulled a flashlight from his pocket and began searching the house, room by room, but all he found were a few pieces of furniture covered in sheets and dust. It looked as if nothing had been disturbed since the last time he’d swung by to check on things.

Where was Valentina?

Poppy checked books in mechanically, scanning the barcodes, and chastised students for creased pages, reminding others about fines. Monday felt as if a fog had rolled in and the whole world was out of focus. Her mind was still living in Saturday, while her body had rolled right ahead into work mode.

“Miss? Miss, you okay?”

Poppy blinked at the student leaning over the circulation desk, peering at her. Poppy shook her head, unable to recall the girl’s name. She could have been any one of the black girls, her hair tightly braided and her clothing slightly worse for wear. There were close to nine hundred students at the high school, and it was impossible to know them all, but Poppy tried. So many of them came from broken families and bad situations; just giving them a hug or listening to them made a huge difference.

“Yes, just a case of the Mondays.” She smiled. “What can I help you with?”

“Just need to check this out, Miss.” The girl bit her lip and handed over a worn copy of the third Harry Potter book and, for a moment, the fog parted.

“Have you read the series before?” Poppy took the girl’s ID, scanned it and the book. Her student card had LaToya Marshall printed in bold letters next to her picture. She looked like a sweet girl, if a bit shy.

“No, Miss.” LaToya shook her head.

“This one might be my favorite in the series. I remember when the books were still coming out, I’d go wait in line at midnight to get the first copy.” Poppy smiled, remembering the excitement, the thrill that turning each page had given her as she cheered the characters on.

“Thank you, Miss.”

LaToya smiled and her face changed, as if she’d parted the curtains and let out an inner glow. Poppy winked and promised herself to commit LaToya’s face to memory. Poppy had some Harry Potter bookmarks at home she could give to the girl.

The bell rang and LaToya scurried off for class, leaving Poppy with a few blissful moments to herself. She shifted in her seat and jumped, a pain shooting down her leg.

Damn bruise.

Most of the soreness had faded, thanks to an Epsom salt bath, but there were a few deep tissue bruises. When she sat a certain way or bumped into the shelves, well, the words she
wanted to say weren’t suitable for school grounds.

Poppy itched to grab her cell phone, but didn’t. She didn’t know how she felt about Damien, even after spending all day Sunday thinking about him … and her, together. He’d been very forthright about his interest, which both thrilled and terrified her. She hated playing cat-and-mouse games, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that Damien had some sort of ulterior motive.

The man was attractive, assertive, well educated, everything she wanted in a guy. Of course, she’d thought his occupation would be an issue, but if she were honest with herself, she respected him for what he did.

So why was she dragging her feet?

Poppy shook her head and turned to her work e-mail account, flipping through notices and announcements. She would not think about texting or calling Damien.

After their play session and her refusal to leave the club with him, they’d hung out watching scenes. Kyle and Nikki had joined them after the dungeon closed, and they’d gone out for pancakes and coffee. She’d thought Damien wouldn’t get on well with her friends, but he’d bantered with Kyle about sports and talked politics with Nikki. Poppy was sure he’d won them over.

The desk phone beeped, signaling an incoming call. Poppy frowned. She didn’t get many calls.

“Library, Poppy speaking,” she said into the receiver.

“Hello, sweetness.”

The sinfully dark notes of his voice curled around her and she shivered. Even her pussy reacted, clenching, wanting. With two simple words her damn panties were damp, and she was catapulted back to her first vision of him, tall, dark, and handsome, and the way he touched her, how they fit together. Her heart yearned for that while her mind continued to put on the brakes.

“How did you get this number?” Poppy almost expected him to appear for a quick punishment. Her ass stung in memory of just how strong his hands were.

“It’s a public school. I called the office and asked to be transferred to the library,” he said. She couldn’t discern his mood from his tone, which was completely conversational, but she kept waiting for a verbal snap.

Poppy licked her lips. So reasonable.

“You didn’t call me yesterday.” His voice dipped, displeasure dripping from each word.

No, she hadn’t.

Poppy glanced around the library. She seemed to be alone, but didn’t want to run the
chance of being overheard by young ears.

“Sorry, I was busy,” she replied.

“Washing your hair?”

“As a matter of fact, I did wash my hair.”

“Poppy, we agreed that you would call me yesterday to check in and tell me how you’re doing.” His stern tone silenced her inner turmoil. “You were angry with me in part because I didn’t follow through with what we negotiated. Is it fair for you to do that to me?”

She cringed. There wasn’t even a good excuse. Her thoughts had circled around him for a full day, and she’d started and stopped dialing his number, composed twenty text messages, only to delete them.

“No. No, it’s not,” she finally admitted. She wasn’t proud of herself.

“Why didn’t you call me? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable? Upset you?”

“No.” She swung back and forth in her desk chair, badly wanting to get up and pace.

“Then why didn’t you check in?” The frustration coming across the line was almost palpable and she flinched.

What could she say?

The truth was all she had.

“Because to be honest? I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t understand your intentions or goals, and I find it hard to trust myself around you.” She spoke in a rush, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

There was a moment of silence. She bit her lip, unsure of what to pray for.

“I thought I was clear. I want you.”

Poppy shivered again and her pussy clenched. It had been a long time since a man had said those words to her. He scrambled her thoughts to the point that it was hard to think. She shook her head and tried to quiet the pounding of her heart with a deep breath.

The door to the library banged open and a line of students entered, calling to each other as the teacher herded them toward the study desks.

Great
.

“I can’t talk about this here,” she whispered.

“Then you should have called me yesterday when we could have had this conversation in private.”

“Look, I’m sorry. There’s a class here. I have to go.”

“Poppy, I’m going to call back until we’ve talked this through. I know the library
extension now.”

“You can’t call here.”

“It’s the only phone number I have for you.”

Of course it was. She’d suggested he give her his number before he could ask for hers. It was a small way of controlling the situation that felt so out of her hands.

“Fine.” Poppy rattled off her phone number.

“Don’t hang up yet, sweetness.”

She wanted to slam the phone down, get far away from it, except his order stilled her muscles.

“Have dinner with me.”

“Okay,” she said, desperate to get off the phone.

“Thursday?”

“Fine.”

He chuckled. “I’ll call you later, sweetness.”

Neil scratched his arm, yet the sensation of something crawling under his skin didn’t go away. Someone had told him this might happen, but he’d ignored them. Who had that been?

The sensation of being watched kicked his pulse up. He glanced over his shoulder, peering into the shadows cloaking the recesses of the morgue. He’d worked for the city for close to three years, and this place still gave him the creeps. All the stiffs lined up, body parts everywhere. Neil kept waiting for one to sit up and start gnawing on one of the pompous doctors.

Assholes. Thought they were better than everyone else.

He pushed his sleeve up and raked his nails over his arm.

How long since his last fix?

Cunt wife had taken his paycheck before he could cash it. She was getting wise to him. But if this gig turned out well, he’d be set for a while. A shiver rushed down his spine in anticipation of the euphoria.

One of the swinging doors creaked.

Neil jumped, snapping his head around, relief flooding his system.

He was here.

“You made it. Didn’t know if you’d get in,” Neil said in a rush as he approached his new dealer. At least he hoped this guy would stick around. The last few dealers had moved on, making it harder to find his stuff.

“Wasn’t a problem.” The dealer hadn’t given Neil his name, and so he’d become Dealer in his head. For a drug dealer, he was surprisingly clean-cut, with a nice button-down shirt and slacks, and even a pair of loafers, like one of the fancy dealers on TV.

Which pocket did he keep the stuff in? God, he needed a fix, and soon. He’d sell a kidney at this point if he thought it would get him the good stuff.

“Where is she?” he asked, his tone sharp and cold, a lot like the morgue.

“Sure. Yeah. Right this way, man. She’s been here for a while. You sure you want to see this one?”

Dealer’s hard stare said more than words could.

Neil turned and scurried toward the back lockers with Dealer following. Neil’s job included body retrieval and transportation for the city. A few weeks back, he’d had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to go collect a whole truckload of bodies. It was a fucked-up mess, complete with a crew of government and federal types that made his belly churn. One of the agents had stopped him, concerned that he wasn’t handling the situation properly.

Ridiculous.

He’d seen bodies in pieces, hacked up and beaten down. A few bullet holes didn’t bother him none.

“She’s in pretty bad shape, man.” Neil opened the last locker and shivered at the cold gust of air.

Lights flickered on, illuminating stainless-steel rolling tables. Each had a black body bag zipped up and lying on top. This entire unit was for the fed’s case that was still open. Every couple of days someone else was in and out of there poking and prodding at the bodies, like it was some sort of grotesque titty show.

The body Dealer had requested to see was on the very last row of tables in the corner. She’d been a pretty thing in life, but death didn’t care who the fuck you were.

Neil glanced over his shoulder at Dealer, curiosity gnawing at him.

Why this body?

“Open it,” Dealer barked, gaze narrowed.

“Yeah, sure thing.”

What did it matter to Neil what the fuck this guy wanted with it? He could jack off on her face, he didn’t care, so long as he got the goods.

Neil dug a pair of rubber gloves out of his pocket and used them to grip the zipper, pulling it down slowly so he wouldn’t catch anything in the teeth. He’d zipped some chick’s tit
once, and it had been disgusting, the way the decaying flesh oozed. Neil managed to get the bag unzipped without incident, then folded it back to display the woman inside.

Dealer shoved Neil aside and leaned over the body, peering at her face. He didn’t say anything, just stared.

The three shots to her chest would have hit some of the major organs, so she’d probably died quickly. But then again, maybe Dealer had wanted her to suffer?

Neil couldn’t tell by watching him.

The backs of his hands felt as if insects were crawling over his knuckles, but when he glanced at them, nothing was there.

“Say, man, did you bring the stuff?” Neil asked, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Dealer straightened, casting him a cool glance over his shoulder. “In the car.”

Well, fuck
.

“Oh, okay. How much longer do you think we’ll be? Did you want—some alone time with her?” Neil glanced from the body to Dealer.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Show me out.” There was no change at all in Dealer’s manner of speaking. It was as if he’d asked to see where the john was. What had the—

No, Neil didn’t care. He just wanted his meth so the damned bugs would go away.

“Sure, sure.” Neil started for the door.

“Are you forgetting something?” Dealer hadn’t moved from his place next to the body.

“Huh?” Neil blinked over his shoulder. What the fuck now?

Dealer tipped his head toward the open body bag.

“Oh, right.” Neil scurried back and zipped the bag again. He stripped the gloves off, folding them one over the other and jerked his head toward the door. “Good now.”

Dealer followed him soundlessly back through the locker and into the receiving room of the dead. The autopsy rooms were the few places he didn’t go.

“Let’s go out the back through the dock.” Neil dropped the gloves into a trash can and continued through a large metal door that required security clearance.

“What about cameras?” Dealer asked.

Neil chuckled. “Don’t worry.”

“Why?”

“Oh, Cliff wanted a break to go see this chick he’s screwing behind his wife’s back, so I told him I’d watch the tapes. I just paused the recording, so we’re good. No one will know you were here.”