Crushing Beauty (Harbingers of Sorrow MC): Vegas Titans Series (12 page)

Britton raced back into David’s office and slid down the
wall, out of sight. She didn’t know how to escape without Hank seeing her. How
could he be DEA? Would he be happy to know that she was undercover as well? Or
was he dirty? She knew Jagger could pay him much more than the government
could, but was that enough for him to stray from his morals? How long had he
been helping Jagger out? And wouldn’t Jagger have done his research on someone
he was bringing into his circle? He could’ve easily found out that Hank was
DEA. Then again, he didn’t know she was FBI.

Britton looked around, trying to find an escape.

“Agent Ramirez?” She heard David calling for her. “She’s
probably still in my office. Here, I’ll introduce you.”

No. She had to hide. Britton couldn’t risk her cover being
blown. She wasn’t ready to be taken away from her operation. She wasn’t ready
to be taken away from Jagger.

She crawled to the back corner of the office and slowly
opened a cabinet door. What was she thinking? She couldn’t hide on a shelf
amidst a bunch of files. She quickly scanned the rest of the small office. Under
the desk would have to suffice. It seemed so childish. It was like she was
playing hide and seek.

“Agent Ramirez, are you still in there?” He was much closer.
She hurriedly crawled under the desk and pulled the chair back in, making her
body take up as little space as possible. She held her breath, praying they
wouldn’t take more than three steps into the office. Her heart rate quickened
as their footsteps grew louder. They stopped.

“She must have run out. Sorry about that. “ He spoke in a
quizzical, hushed tone, presumably to Hank, though she wouldn’t dare to risk a
quick peek.

Britton heard the office door shut. She was safe. Now the
only thing she had to worry about was David telling Hank that he had an agent
undercover in the notorious motorcycle gang. Maybe she could text him? Would he
question her request, or trust that she still had everything under control? She
would have to risk it. She slid her phone out of her pocket and typed the plea.
“Please don’t tell him I’m undercover. I’ll explain in time.”

Now she would have to sneak out. Hopefully they had gone
into the conference room and shut the door. She crawled out from under the
table, and stayed low, hiding from the open office window blinds. She glanced
out, planning her escape. They were talking outside the door. She saw David
apologize and reach in his pocket. He was reading her text; it was obvious by
the pure confusion on his face. He quickly looked around and escorted Hank into
the conference room. It was the perfect time for her getaway. She silently
opened the office door and rounded the corner of its frame. Out of the corner
of her eye, she saw a figure exit back out of the conference room.

“Are you Agent Ramirez?” It was Hank. He hadn’t seen her
face, but she would need to respond, wouldn’t she? Maybe she could pretend that
she hadn’t heard him. “Excuse me…” He was still calling at her. She quickened
her pace. Was this really her plan of action: just to run away? How did she
ever make it to ‘special agent’?

“Sorry, in a rush!” She called, lowering her voice below its
usual timbre.

“Do I know you?” He wasn’t backing down.

Now he was following her. She could hear his paces growing
closer as she sped up her stride. She would take the stairs; the elevator was
too risky. She opened the stairwell door and slammed it behind her. She made it
half a flight down before she heard the large door open above her. How could he
be moving so fast? Britton continued to race down, fearing that she would trip
over her own feet. She knew of an escape on the fourth floor, but if he caught
her taking that exit, she would never make it to her car without him seeing her
face.

She reached the fifth floor and looked up the stairwell. He'd
gained on her. All her weight went into pulling the fourth floor door open. Britton
raced around the cubicles, desperately trying not to knock anything over and
cause a racket that would draw him closer. She saw her destination come into
view; the corner office had a fire escape. She threw the window open and
continued down the ladder. She cursed herself, wondering how she'd gotten
herself into this situation. It was like a scene out of a movie.

As she reached the bottom of the fire escape she jumped off
the ladder and sprinted toward her car. Where was Hank? Maybe he gave up. She
found her keys and fiddled with them, attempting to steady her hands. The car
door unlocked and she climbed inside. Hank was nowhere to be seen. Of course he
would be suspicious. Who was this random agent running from him? Would he be
able to get on the FBI server to track down a picture of her? She would need
David to handle the mess she had made.

Britton’s heart rate stayed steadily racing as she made her
way home. Her fantasies of being undercover had not prepared her for the dangers
she might face. She would need to find out more information about Hank. Whose
side was he on? Could she trust him? Could David trust him? Could Jagger trust
him?

She stepped up to her front door and reached out her hand
toward the knob. It was open. Who was inside? She didn’t have her gun on her. What
was happening? She pushed open the door and quickly hid her body, keeping safe
from any sneak attack. Nothing.

“Hello?” She called inside. Still nothing. She took two
steps in and peered around the room.

“Is someone there?”

No one answered her question, and she made her way around
her house, tip toeing around each corner. The kitchen was empty. She proceeded
down the hallway, peering into her empty bedroom. Had she been careless and
left the door unlocked herself? The sound of papers shuffling stopped her in
her tracks. Someone was in her office. What did she have in there?

“Who the fuck's there?!” She jumped into the doorway,
yelling her command.

Jagger turned around, holding a piece of paper in his hands.
His face showed apprehension. He didn’t speak, just stared at her.

“Jagger… what are you doing here? You scared me half to
death.”

He continued to look at her, unsure of what to say.

“What are you doing in here? Are you going through my things?”
Britton was getting worried now. What was he holding? What did he know?

“Where have you been?”

“I was just running errands. What is in your hand?”

“You have no bags.”

“What is in your hand?” Her tone was strong, demanding his
answer. It was the only way to hide her worry.

Neither of them spoke. They only stared into each other’s
eyes, searching for the answers that neither of them would answer.

Britton’s phone rang, breaking the silence. Her eyes widened
as she looked at the caller ID. It was David.

Jagger snatched the phone out of her hands and read the name
flashing on the screen.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know what it’s about. I swear I haven’t spoken to
him.” She was so bad at lying to him. Would he believe her?

Jagger answered the phone.

“David, good to hear from you.” His voice was low, and he
refused to break eye contact with Britton.”

“Yes, she’s with me, but I don’t believe you have any reason
to talk to her any longer…I understand closure, but you’re just going to have
to pretend that you got it, because I forbid you from ever speaking to her
again…I can forbid you because she is mine…Yes, you heard me right. If you try
to contact her again, I will find you, and you won’t like what I have in store
for you.”

Britton’s body raged. Who did he think he was? Did he really
think he could just come in here after ten years and completely take over her
life? Did he expect her to simply stand by and take it? What kind of woman
would she be if she allowed her decisions to be made by a man?

“No!” She grabbed the phone out of his hand. “You cannot
treat me like a piece of your property.”

“Really?” He grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm to the
air. “Give me back the phone, Britton.”

“No.” She was determined.

He pulled her arm even higher, forcing her to rise to the
balls of her feet. She tried to kick him, but lost her balance, forcing her
weight into her outstretched arm.

“Jagger,” she cried, “you’re hurting me.”

He saw her eyes glaze and her lips purse. He felt heaviness
on his heart as he realized what he was doing to her. Jagger dropped her arm,
allowing its weight to return it to a resting place. “I’m sorry.” He
disappeared into the hallway, still holding the paper he had taken from her
desk.

“David, I’m sorry, are you still there...Yes, I’m
fine…Yes…No…”

She was answering his questions as cryptically as possible,
so as to not alert Jagger to the situation with Hank. She was able to clue him
into the fact that she had met him before and that it was while she was with
Jagger. She did not know whose side he was on, but couldn’t risk getting
caught. David told her that Hank had returned to the conference room, winded,
but unaware of her real identity. It was all the information she needed to know
for now. It was time to completely break contact with him.

“David, you cannot call me…No, not ever again…This is
goodbye.”

She hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Now she had to
smooth things over with Jagger. She stepped down the hallway but didn’t see
him. She turned into her bedroom. He was sitting on the floor, his head against
the wall.

“Where were you, Britton?”

“I told you. Running errands.”

“Now tell me the truth.”

He stood up, towering over her. He began to walk forward,
cornering her into the wall. She looked around for an escape, but her attempts
were fruitless. She would have to deal with him.

“I said tell me the truth.” He handed her the paper. It was
a bank statement.

He was getting angrier now. His hands made their way to her
shoulders, his thumbs brushing her throat. He wasn’t hurting her, but she
wouldn’t put it past him to close his hands around her neck if she didn’t start
talking soon.

“Why do you have my bank statement?” She asked innocently.

“Where is that money coming from?”

“Excuse me?”

“You do not make that much money at the casino. Where is it
coming from?”

“How do you know how much I make?”

“I make it my job to know these kind of things. Britton,
what are you hiding from me and where were you just now?”

She obviously couldn’t tell him she was at the FBI, but what
would he believe?

“Seeing my brother was…weird. I started to drive to clear my
head, but had nowhere to go. I ended up by my old apartment.”

Did he believe that? Was it plausible? She had passed by her
childhood home a few weeks earlier, when David had wanted her to scout out a
possible drop location for a different crime syndicate in the area.

“What did you think?”

“When did it catch on fire?”

“About two years ago.”

“How?”

“It wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re thinking, Britton. I
believe it was just faulty wiring. The building was condemned years earlier, so
no one was hurt.”

“Good…Good.” She ran her hands through her hair, preparing
to ask the next question. “So why are you looking at my bank statement?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Tell me first where the money is coming from.”

“Investments.” Was that really all she could come up with? It
was vague, which was good, but was it believable?

“These are some good investments.” He pointed to the
statement.

“I have a lot of spare time to study up on the market. I
only work part time at the casino.”

That did make sense. He would have to trust her: a thing he
was not accustomed to doing. There were a number of things that were confusing
him about her before. Why the casino? Why was she back in his life? How did she
know he would be in the high roller’s room? Wouldn’t it have been some sort of
conflict of interest for her boss to drop his name when promoting her? He was
stalling with his thoughts, but knew he had to say something.

“I have this guy who is helping me out with something, and
he thought he saw you.”

“What? Where?” Her heart began to race. Maybe Hank had seen
her.

“At the FBI.”

She began to laugh. “Are you kidding me? What would I be
doing there? And what was he doing there? Did one of your guys get arrested?” She
was desperately trying to play innocent, awkwardly asking any question that
would come to her mind.

“No, it’s not like that. I…are you sure you want to hear
this?”

“Yes, Jagger, you can tell me.”

Could he? He still wasn’t a hundred percent certain that it
wasn’t her at the FBI. He had no way of truly knowing. He wanted to believe her
more than anything. Maybe things weren’t adding up because he was being
overcautious. Maybe she did just happen to fall back into his life. She had
obviously been by her old apartment, knowing that it had burned down. He'd
already said she was too educated to only be working at the casino. Playing the
market seemed logical. He shook his head. He was just being irrational. She
wasn’t part of some undercover operation to take him down. That was only a
silly thought of his. How could he be so untrusting of the woman he had loved
for so long?

“I had this shipment come in and the FBI confiscated it.”

“What kind of shipment?”

He paused, weighing the consequences. “Cocaine.”

“Oh…oh, so you…are you a drug dealer?”

“Britton.”

“I don’t know anything about this.”

He pushed her further up against the wall and ran his
fingers over her shirt. He attempted to make it seem sexual, but he was
actually looking for a wire. Nothing.
Trust her Jagger
, he repeated to
himself over and over again.

“I’m not a dealer…more of a distributor.”

“So who was at the FBI?”

Jagger fought with himself. Could he tell her all of this? Why
was she asking so many questions? How would she react? Even if she weren’t with
the Bureau, would she run away and turn him in?

Britton could see him waning from the truth, but knew this
might be her only chance to get this kind of information. She softly put her
hand on his.

“Do you not trust me?”

“I do, but…”

“I understand. We don’t know each other anymore, but Jagger,
you were my first love, and my brother is loyal to you. Do you actually think
I’d be capable of reporting you to the police?”

It was everything he was thinking, but it felt good to have
her affirm his expectations.

“Hank, the guy you met earlier, is with the DEA.”

“What?” She had practiced her surprised reactions. “Did you
know this?”

“Yes. He’s on our side. He’s helping us get that shipment
back.”

“Oh thank God. And you trust him?”

“He has two kids in college. I trust he needs the money I’m
giving him.”

“Right.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. A little shocked, but okay—wow, so he actually works
for the government? Aren’t you even a little worried that he might be playing
you?”

“Of course, but I’m taking precautions, but he’s proved
himself enough so far that I’m choosing to believe he’s on our side.”

“This is just a lot.”

“I know.” He could see her mind spinning. Maybe this was too
much for one day. He didn’t want to suggest it but it felt like the right thing
to do. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” It was the truth. She didn’t want him to go anywhere. He
was opening up to her. “So, what else do you guys do?” Maybe that was a little
blunt.

“No, Britton.”

“Jagger, if you want me to be part of you, then I need to be
part of this. You understand that, right? I’m not the kind of girl who just
sits on the sidelines and pretends that everything happening around her is
perfect. Whatever you’re involved in is obviously dangerous and if I’m going to
be sitting at home alone at night, I need to know the degree of that danger.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.” He leaned in and softly kissed her lips. “You are an
amazing woman, Britton Ramirez.”

She smiled at him, loving the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Hank saw a woman at the FBI who had the same color hair as
you and was running away from him.”

Britton started to laugh. “The same color hair? Like brown? Don’t
most people have brown hair?” She was worried that her laughter would reveal
her nervousness, but then he laughed with her.

“I guess you’re right.”

“He didn’t catch up to her?”

“No, he said she disappeared in the stairwell.”

“Does that have you worried? I mean, do you think it could
be someone else in your group?”

“Absolutely not. We’re a family, and family would never do
that to each other.”

“So maybe it was just a coincidence.”

“It would seem like it, but I don’t plan on dropping it.”

“Of course.”

They were silent, not sure of what to say to each other. Britton
wanted to get out of the situation, but didn’t want to seem suspicious.

“I like talking to you.” He admitted.

It was such a simple compliment, but it made Britton tear
up. All of her memories of their time talking rushed through her head.

“What? What did I say?”

“Nothing, it was just sweet.”

He turned over her hand in his, tracing the marks that the
rope had made, the earlier bruises, and now the deepening red band around her
wrist. He sunk to the floor.

“I really am sorry.”

Was he though? He continued to hurt her after all his apologies.
“You can’t treat me like that.”

“I know, I just…I just don’t want to lose you again...I
can't lose you again.”

“And you think hurting me is the best way to keep me around?”
She crouched beside him.

“No. No, I don’t, and I know it is no excuse, but I can’t
seem to control myself around you.”

“Listen, I told David that he can’t call me anymore, but if
he does, you can’t take that out on me. I will be loyal to you. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Britton, I am so sorry….I’m so sorry.”

Jagger repeated the words as he held her in his arms and
began to kiss the top of her head. The tighter they held each other, the lower
his kisses would travel: her forehead, her eyebrows, her cheeks, her nose, and
then finally, her lips. He drew away and his eyes bore into hers.

“Britton…I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her
in. He played with her lower lip, wanting more and more of her with every nip. His
mouth took over hers and Britton’s body went limp. He pulled away again, not
refusing his desire to tell her everything.

“I have prayed every day for ten years that you would come
back to me, and I have no idea what I have done to deserve it, but here you
are. You are the only woman I have ever loved, and I will never let you go
again.”

He waited for her reply, hoping that her confession would
mirror his. She said nothing, instead focusing on the steady rise and fall of
her chest.