Savior (An Impossible Novel) (6 page)

Sharon let me cry, and the sobs that wracked through me were almost painful.  I wasn’t sure if it was from the heaving of my lungs or the ache in my heart.  Eventually, I pulled myself together.  I had to convince Sharon to help Greg.

“What can I do?”  I asked, my voice wavering as I blinked hard to clear my vision.  “How can I help him?  Please don’t lock him up.  You said yourself he’s being coerced.  He doesn’t deserve to go to jail for that.”

Sharon looked a little uncomfortable now.  “We’re willing to cut him a deal,” she admitted slowly.  “The Kings are ruthlessly expanding into new territories, and they are becoming more violent.  It’s more than we can handle.  There are too many people like your brother who are being victimized and forced into helping them.  But Greg can help us stop this.  He can vindicate himself.”

“How?”  Hope bloomed in my chest.

She watched me carefully as she spoke.  “We need him to spy on the Kings, to pass us information about who is involved and where they meet.  We need names and concrete evidence in order to bring them down.”

I shook my head forcefully.  “No.  They’ll hurt him if they find out.  I can’t let you put him in danger like that.”

Sharon’s expression hardened.  “He won’t be any safer in jail.  There are members of the Kings who are currently incarcerated.  They’ll kill him to keep hi
m from talking.  They know he owes them no loyalty, but they’re willing to serve more time for murder in order to protect their friends.  The Kings have tightly-knit communities, and they would rather die than take on the shame of betraying their friends.  Even if they were willing to give evidence against their compatriots, they know they wouldn’t survive long enough to go to trial to give evidence.  We need people like Greg, good people who are just victims of circumstance.  We
will
let him walk free if he’s willing to work with us.  And we’ll keep a surveillance team on him at all times.  At the first hint of danger, we’ll pull him out.  I won’t allow him to come to any harm.”

What she was saying made sense.  I hated the idea of putting him in the line of fire, but it truly did sound like he would be safer with the FBI watching him at all times than he would be in prison.

“But if he keeps working with them, he’ll keep using,” I pointed out.

Sharon looked sad again, regretful.  “We can’t stop him if he chooses that.  Maybe you can talk to him.  If he agrees, we can put him through rehab before he does this.  But i
f he refuses, I promise you we’ll get him clean as soon as we get the information we need.  Whether he wants to or not.  We can get a court order.”

I took a deep breath and nodded my agreement.  “I’ll do what I can,” I promised.  “And I’ll convince him to help you.  It’s the only chance he has.  I have to keep him safe, even if he hates me for it.”

Sharon squeezed my hand again.  “Thank you for understanding.  This really is the best way.”

“I know,” I admitted.  Now that it had been decided, I was anxious to get on with it as soon as possible.  “Where is Greg?  I need to talk to him.”

“We’ll send him home to you when he gets out of the hospital.  He’ll feel safer there and you’ll have a better chance of convincing him.  But I’m afraid I’ll have to send someone with you in order to make sure he does choose to cooperate.  And to protect both of you.”

“Why would I need protecting?  I’m not involved.”

“I’m afraid you are,” Sharon said evenly.  “The Kings might not know about you, but we can’t take the chance that they do.  They might use you to get to Greg if they find out what he’s doing.  We can’t take that risk.”

Fear clenched my gut.  I hadn’t thought of that.  But I would do what I had to in order to help my brother, even if it did mean having some annoying FBI agent breathing down my neck.

Sharon shifted slightly in her chair, looking uncomfortable again.  “I’m not sure what’s going on with you and Clayton, but I feel I should warn you that he’s been assigned to your case.”

“What?!”
  My voice was a few octaves higher than I would have liked.

“You can always refuse, but he was rather, ah,
insistent
about maintaining the assignment.”  She rolled her eyes.  “To be honest, even if you do refuse, I’m pretty sure you’ll need a restraining order to get him to back down.  And he’s not afraid to use underhanded tactics to get his way.  The liberties Homeland Security grants us can be a bitch sometimes.  Believe me, it will be much easier to save yourself the hassle.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and cursed under my breath. 
“Asshole.” 

I had thought
I liked his controlling side, but it seemed I had made a major mistake in coaxing it out of him.

Sharon shot me a small smile.  “I couldn’t agree more.  But when he gets like this he doesn’t really let anything get in his way.  He can be very… tenacious when he wants to be.  It’s part of what makes him such a good agent.  It’s also what makes him a total ass sometimes.”

Just then, the door opened and Clayton entered, a scowl plastered on his face.  “Thanks for the glowing assessment of my character.  You know I can hear everything out there.”

Sharon just looked at him coolly.  “I know.”

I smiled at her, and she winked at me.  Okay, so maybe she was winning me over.

Clayton was glaring at me.  “I’m taking you home now.”

“Fine,” I said snappishly.  “But I’ll have you know that I don’t appreciate the imperious tone.”

He said nothing, but the roguish smile that spread acro
ss his face told me he knew very well that I
did
enjoy his imperious tone.  Damn it, why the hell had I ever slept with the bastard?  He knew far too much about me for my liking.  And I most certainly
didn’t
like the heat that flared in my belly at the sight of his knowing smirk.  I didn’t.

I was still pissed while Clayton was driving me home.  At least I got to ride in the front seat this time, and I wasn’t wearing handcuffs.  That was
so
not the scenario I might have fantasized about involving Clayton and bondage.

Not that I was going to fantasize about him.  I wasn’t.  Not only was he a heartless bastard, but it would be foolish of me to revisit the memories of our scorching hot night together.  Unfortunately, my body wasn’t exactly cooperating with my mind.  The sexual tension that filled the small space of the car was almost stifling.  His cocky air was maddening in an infu
riatingly sexy way; he knew he had me backed into a corner, and he was in complete control of the situation.  It was clear he was enjoying my predicament far too much for my taste.  I was again struck by the realization that he was messing with my usual M.O.  Although I was sexually submissive, I never truly lost control.  I used my looks and my body to lure in my targets, my conquests.  But now Clayton was taking the reins.  It seemed he was going to get his way no matter what my wishes were.  The thought pissed me off and unsettled me.  And it got me hot for him.  This new feeling of helplessness, of captivity, was darkly thrilling.  I liked to push things to the edge sexually, to find my sweet release in extremes.  And Clayton was definitely one of the most extreme things I had ever experienced.  He wasn’t going to let me get my way, and although a part of me railed against the idea, my lustful side reveled in exploring this new territory.  How far would he push me?  I longed to find out.  I didn’t have to like him, but I could certainly use him.  If he was determined to stay close to me, then I would keep him close to my body.

With that resolution, I found myself almost eager to get back to my apartment where we could be alone.  I had seduced him once before.  How hard could it be to do it again?  Judging by the hungry glances he was shooting my way, it wouldn’t be too difficult.  I kept my silence, deciding to play coy.  Hopefully that would draw out his aggression.

But my lust was deflated like a popped balloon when we entered my apartment.  Greg was home, and he was sober.  Even though I was deeply disturbed by the situation he had gotten us into, I couldn’t help feeling overjoyed at seeing him as his true self.  It was a rare sight.  I left Clayton’s side in a heartbeat, launching myself at my little brother and grabbing him up in a tight embrace.

“Greg!  Thank god you’re alright.  I was so worried about you.”

He was stiff in my arms for the space of a moment, but my heart swelled near to bursting when his arms closed around me as well.  He rested his chin on the top of my head as I buried my face in his shoulder.  My tears of relief at seeing him safe wet his t-shirt.

“I was worried about you too, Rosie,” he admitted
tremulously.  “They told me they had arrested you for trying to help me.  I’m sorry.  God, I am such a fuck-up,” he groaned.

I pulled away from h
im slightly so I could look up into his eyes.  They were the same as mine: pale green ringed with indigo.  That was our only physical similarity.  Where I was pale-skinned and platinum blonde, he was tan with an unruly mop of curly brown hair.  Apparently he took after my father, but I honestly couldn’t remember what he looked like.  Right now I was thrilled to look into those eyes that were a mirror for my own.  They were clear for the first time in I didn’t know how long.

My fingers curled around his arms, unwilling to let him go.  “You’re going to be okay, Greg,” I said firmly.  “I’m not going to let you go to jail.”

Fear flashed across his face.  “I’m not going to jail.  Am I?  They let me come home.  And they let you go too.  We’re fine.”  His eyes darted to Clayton where he stood just inside the doorway.  “What’s he doing here?”  Greg asked suspiciously.

I gripped him harder, drawing his attention back to me.  “He’s here to help us, Greg.  Clayton is with the FBI.  He told me…”  I tripped over the words.  “He told me about the Latin Kings.  I know what they’re making you do, and it has to stop.”

Now anger flashed over his features, and he jerked away from me.  I hated the distance he put between us.

“You don’t know anything,” he hissed through gritted teeth.  The addicted monster that had possessed my sweet brother was coming to the fore.  Usually, this would be the point where I would back down. 
But not this time.

When I spoke, I made my tone forc
eful, determined.  “I know you’re dealing for them.  I know they hurt you.  And I’m not going to let that continue.  You’re going to help the FBI take down the Kings.  It’s the only way to keep you out of jail; it’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“Are you crazy?!” 
He half-shouted, his rage taking over.  “They’ll kill me if they find out I’ve turned against them!”

I glowered at him, my own anger rising to meet his.  This person before me wasn’t my brother; it was some twisted demon that wore my brother’s face.  And I would be damned if I didn’t force it out of him.  “You’re going to help the FBI, or you’re going to jail.  That’s the deal.  If you choose jail, you’re as good as dead.  And I’m not letting you choose that.”

“Fuck you!  You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do!”

“Don’t you dare talk to her like
that.”  Clayton’s voice was soft, but the coldness of his tone gave it a much more dangerous edge than if he had shouted.  Greg froze, his eyes riveted on Clayton.  His muscles were tense, bracing for a fight, but one look at the imposing FBI agent made him back down.

“Your sister is right,” Clayton continued sharply.  “I will arrest you if you don’t cooperate.  You should listen to her.  And you sure as hell should treat her with more respect after everything she’s done for you.”  The threat of violence that pulsed around him was nearly palpable.  The force of it almost made me take a step back.  Clayton might seem sweet and easygoing on the surface, but this was a man you most definitely did not want to fuck with.

Greg dropped his eyes.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  He looked almost petulant, like the child I had known for so many years.  In that moment I was struck by just how young he still was.  How had I allowed him to be reduced to what he had become?  I had been too easy on him, had let him get his way.  Yes, I had wanted to protect him, but now I realized I was so terrified of losing him that I had let him walk all over me.  I had let him destroy himself rather than risking pushing him away by reprimanding him.  But that was all going to change now.

“I know
you’re sorry,” I said gently.  “And that’s why you have to make things right.  You can’t keep helping the Kings, Greg.  They don’t just deal drugs.  They’re violent, and they hurt people.  They kill people.  And I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

He hung his head,
defeated.  I hated the way he unconsciously ran his hand up and down over the crook of his arm.  He had only been sober for a few hours, but already he was craving his next fix.

“Okay.  I’ll do it.”  He sounded weary and more than a little scared.

I lightly touched my hand to his cheek, a reassuring gesture.  “Don’t worry.  The FBI will be watching you.  They’ll keep you safe.  But I need you to get clean before you do this.”

That furious, twisted expression was back in an instant.  His hands closed around my shoulders, and all of the air was knocked from my lungs as he shoved me harshly against the wall.  “No!”  His fingers dug into my flesh painfully.  “I’m not going to quit.  You can’t make me,” he snarled.