All the Way (32 page)

“
What?
”

“Any chance you know how he got here—and why your e-mail address is attached to a thank you note for the equipment you gave him?”

“Oh, hell.”

“Yeah, that’s where I’m about to send you. Unless you tell me what’s going on and how to fix it. Oh, and this might be a good time to mention that we have, um, let’s see—
tonight
—to get the kid out of this train wreck and back to Cleveland in time for court.”

“Enough with the sarcasm. I get your point.”

“You’re the one who got him hooked on all this undercover crap. I need answers, Will. Before it’s too late.”

His friend hesitated on the line. “Hate to break it to you, Desanto, but your kid isn’t doing this with me. Although…” Blake heard a distant clicking in the background before Waller said, “He uploaded a photo. Give me a sec. I’ll bring it up.”

“You’re telling me you know nothing about this?”

“Nada.”

“Then who’s he working with?”

“Beats me.”

“Not good enough,” Blake fumed. “You need to find out.”

“I don’t have that kind of jurisdiction, man. I can’t just radio out to random forces to figure who some kid is working with.”

“This isn’t ‘some kid,’ Will, and you know it. Rob is like a little brother to me. And it would destroy Layla if anything happened to him.”

“Hey, I’m close with Rob, too. I know you don’t want to hear this, but he’s got a natural talent for this stuff. He just might be able to handle himself.”

“Against gangs and drug dealers? Christ, Waller—”

“Hang on. The photo’s coming up.” A double-click. “Okay…this is interesting.” Will let out a low whistle. “Man, oh man. You’re not going to believe this.”

“
What?
”

“Nothing like the usual suspects. I think we’ve found your Keyser Soze.”

The reference to the double-crosser in the movie “The Usual Suspects” didn’t bode well. Blake braced himself.

“It’s your best buddy—Jack Johnson.”

Blake felt a blast of nausea hit him in the gut.

Still, he
shouldn’t be shocked. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already suspected that probability. Only now he couldn’t shut off the reality of this nightmare.

“Damn that bastard.” The atmosphere thinned. His chest tightened as if the phone booth had suddenly been pressurized. He struggled for air, for the words that would magically make Johnson disappear. “Why can’t he just stay the hell out of our lives?”

“Great. Look who else showed up for the party.” Blake didn’t like the grim note in Will’s voice. “Another familiar face.”

“Now what?” Something clicked in Blake’s mind. “Wait. Don’t tell me. The guy’s got a thin goatee, two gold hoops in his ear, dark complexion.” He swallowed hard. “A.k.a.,
Johnny
.”

“Hey, Desanto. You’re good.”

“Lucky guess,” Blake said faintly. A weight sank inside him. “Another lucky guess—his rap sheet’s familiar, too.”

“Tell the man what he’s won, Bob.”

The one time he wished he hadn’t been right. “Please give me a silver lining to all of this, Will. Or I’m going to lose it.”

“I’m getting to that. Johnny Carlos was finally busted two years ago. The Feds agreed to drop most of the charges if Carlos agreed to become a CI—confidential informant. From what I hear, Carlos has been on a mission to save his ass by turning around and busting his old contacts in the drug trafficking rings.”

“But Rob—what’s he got to do with this?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say Rob and Johnny are working together to bust someone.”

Blake thought back to when he met Johnny, known then as Jack’s passenger, outside the fairgrounds. The wink. The steady calm even when Blake went after Jack. The familiar salute. “That makes sense,” he told Will. “But it doesn’t make this picture look any better.”

“Think of it this way. Rob’s not alone in this. He’s got good equipment—”

“No thanks to you,” Blake threw in.

“Plus, he’s working with a CI. I’m guessing the FBI is involved. Carlos has to report to an agent. With top officials involved, Rob should be in good hands.”

“That’s not the point, Waller. He shouldn’t be in anyone’s hands. He should be in Cleveland, getting ready for his court date. Working on his motorcycle in my garage.
Until Layla comes up the driveway to get him, and we ignore each other. Or pick a fight. They leave. I miss her. I feel like shit without her. And everything’s back to normal.”
Blake paused.

Will filled the silence. “Do you hear what you just said?”

After a few blinks, Blake found his voice. “Yeah…I guess I wouldn’t be back with Layla again if Rob hadn’t left town.”

“Then there’s your silver lining. Tell you what, Desanto. I’ll do my best to find out the name of the agent Carlos is reporting to. He’ll be able to lead you to Rob.”

“I appreciate it, Will. I’ll wait for your call.”

“You got it, man. And hey—good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it before this night is out. I have a feeling we all will.”

As the sun ducked behind a hazy patch of clouds, a figure rounded the corner of the designated meeting place. Jack straightened.

Sweat soaked through his navy blue cop uniform. He lit another cigarette.

Wisps of smoke swirled in front of his eyes, mingling with the heat waves that lifted off the pavement of the side street. He shifted his weight. Taking his boot off the foot peg of the motorcycle beside him, he planted both feet on the ground.

When Johnny Carlos approached, Jack
threw him a nod. “It’s about time you showed. For a minute there I thought maybe you’d bailed.”

“And miss out on this kind of cash? Hell no.”

“Everything all set?”

Johnny stopped a few feet in front of Jack. “Yep. I planted the drugs in the kid’s backpack. He’ll come onto the scene separate from the two gang members. The kid is totally oblivious. Has no idea why he’s there, except that someone told him to be. Like a good little wannabe, he’ll follow directions.
When he shows, the gangsters will recognize him, wonder what he’s doing there. In the seconds it takes them to figure something ain’t right, I’ll come up behind the kid and grab him.”

A smile of satisfaction pulled at Jack’s lips. Things were coming together nicely.
“Then I flip on my lights,” Jack continued,
“and give the two gangsters enough time to beat it before I take Rob into custody. I’ll have the kid. You take the drugs and then sell them to the gangbangers. Like clockwork.”

Johnny traced the slim outline of his goatee with one hand. “To clear things up, what exactly do you need the kid for again?”

“Same reason I bought this motorcycle.” Jack turned to run his hand along the smooth black tank. “Sometimes you’ve got to change tactics to get what you want.”

“What does the kid have that you want?”

Jack leveled a sinister gaze at Johnny. “He has Layla for a sister—who’s forgotten how to see things my way. Rob is the perfect reminder.
The perfect bait.”

Johnny shoved his hands deep in his pants pockets, eyeing Jack from under the shadow cast by the brim of his baseball cap. “What makes you think she’ll want you? She stayed with that guy we cornered at that fair.”

Jack stepped forward menacingly. “That’s what I have the
kid
for, moron.”

“I get it. A tradeoff.
And the bike?”

“I’m driving it out of here. I think my car’s being targeted by that cop from Indiana. Can’t be sure, but I swear I heard something come up on dispatch yesterday. A description of my car. I’m not taking any chances.” He shrugged. “Layla came all the way with Desanto on a motorcycle—she can damn well ride back on one with me.”

“What about the drugs left over, once we sell part of the stash to the gang?”

“We’ll square up when we’re back in Cleveland. The way we did it last year. No need to get the locals involved. Out-of-state crap leaves a nasty pile of paperwork. I plan to be real busy reminding Layla why she needs me.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why does she need you?”

“Anyone ever tell you, you ask too many questions? Why the sudden interest in my life? We’ve always kept things strictly business.”

Carlos lifted a shoulder. “Never seen you so focused, dude.
Kind of intense.”

“I’ve never had so much to lose.” Jack blotted out the vulnerability sliding onto his features. He ignored
a stab of anguish bordering on obsession that made him shake with possessive need. He crossed his arms. “This has to be perfect, Johnny. I’m counting on you.”

Johnny looked affronted. “Have I ever let you down? I’m your man, boss. See you tonight.”

Something made him seek one final reassurance. “You swear you’ll come through on this one? We’re done after this. Just this last one…I need this.” The shaking started up again. It took all his effort to control the spasms. Furious at his own show of weakness, he demanded of Johnny, “Do you understand me?”

“Perfectly.” Johnny touched
the bill of his cap in mock salute. “I’ll deliver the goods, Johnson. Don’t you worry about it.”

Carlos disappeared down a nearby ally. Jack turned away and mounted the motorcycle. He was still getting used to the gears, when to shift, all that crap. He’d been on motorcycle cop duty right out of the police academy, but after seven years he was rusty. Still, he knew everything would be okay once he had Layla in his custody again.

Because the dark thoughts inside him went to sleep when Layla was with him, like a burst of sunlight sweeping away the shadows in his soul. When he could reach out and feel her near, he knew he’d be all right.

After securing Layla, he’d dump the kid. Ditch the undercover car. And they’d be on their way back to the life he’d wanted with Layla before Desanto came back around and screwed up everything.

Then he’d count on Carlos to handle the rest. Jack’s mission right now focused on finding Layla and extracting her from her two bodyguards, Blake and his brother, Tanner.

It didn’t dawn on Jack until later that Carlos’s final words had sounded more like a warning, than a reassurance.

*

It should’ve dawned on Blake in the shower—when the dollop of shampoo slid over his eyebrow, between his lashes and stung his eye—that the pain would be indicative of what the night held in store.

However, the confirmation didn’t arrive until he heard the racket of the shower curtain rings jammed to one side. “So what’s going to happen now?” came
Layla’s voice over the patter of shower water.

Blake opened his eyes to reach for a towel. “Ow—damn!”

Wincing in pain, he cupped his hand over his eye. He shut the water off and reached blindly for a towel. He dragged it from the rack, held it to his face, and gradually the pain in his eye eased. But a sudden, burning sensation flared up in his chest.

Had Layla’s tone sounded accusatory, demanding?

Blake lowered the towel. The first thing he saw was Layla, hands on her hips.
Tanner stood behind her, further back in the room, staring at the floor with a repentant look on his face. Blake whipped the towel around his waist.

Then Tanner looked up and met Blake’s assessing stare. He lifted a shoulder, admitting, “I couldn’t stop her from looking at the e-mails, bro. I felt like it wasn’t my place.”

“I see.” The burning sensation returned and spread through Blake like a brushfire. He felt hot, even after his luke-warm shower. Perspiration sprang to his forehead, dampened his upper lip.

He’d wanted to keep the information in that e-mail secret until he heard from either Will or Rob’s undercover agent. Neither had called yet.

He had no answers to give Layla.

Judging by the look on her face, a vague reply would be unacceptable. Blake sighed heavily beneath the weight of responsibility sitting on his chest. “Layla, we can’t jump to conclusions. Let’s just—”

“If you tell me to relax, I’m going to scream.”

“We won’t know details until I hear from
the agent who’s working with Rob.”

Her features tightened. “I’m not sitting around, waiting for a phone call.”

“Whatever we do now, we’ll just be spinning our wheels.”

“It’s my brother’s life on the line!”

Blake stepped from the shower. “That’s why our time is better spent taking informed action.”

Layla didn’t budge. They stood toe to toe on the fluffy bath towel on the floor. Water dripped from the ends of his hair onto Layla’s skin. The droplets slid down her like a dozen tiny caresses he wanted to follow with his fingertips.

The urge to take her face in his hands and kiss her
intensified. He wanted to taste her until he found the layer of vulnerability trembling beneath her take-charge veneer. He wanted to assure her without words that everything would be all right.

But she’d probably slap him. He knew by now when to pick his battles.

He also knew her anger was fueled by fear, yet she wouldn’t let him witness her vulnerability. She’d spent too many years toughening herself,
going it alone. Any hint of relying on another’s strength probably felt like weakness to her. She had too much pride to reveal her softness to anyone. Even to herself.

Another make or break moment. Possibly the last, if her expression was any indication.
Shit
.

“Layla, I know you want to be active in this, and you’re still in the game. No one’s dealing you out.” He took her shoulders in his hands. “I’m not going to leave you on the fringe—”

“Like you did last time?”

The air around them crackled with supercharged emotion.

Behind them, Tanner cleared his throat. “I’ll see you guys downstairs.”

The door shut, locking the two of them in with their fierce silence.

“This is just like last time.” Desolation clouded her features. “You’ve left me out, hiding the truth from me. Again.”

“Hey.” Blake’s defenses shot up. “This time the stakes are even higher. Gangs, drugs, violence—”

“You’re right. The stakes were higher. This time I really trusted you. I should’ve known better.” Her eyes were accusatory, snapping.

Feeling trapped by the truth in her accusation, he ran a hand down his face. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing.” Emotions surged through Layla. Her chest rose and fell rapidly under a wash of
heart-breaking devastation. She’d fallen in love with a second time, and the betrayal hurt even worse. “There’s nothing left to say.”

He filed his fingers through his wet hair. “I want you safe, Layla. I want to protect you. Is that so wrong?”

“You
think
you’re protecting me. I can handle myself, Blake,” she shouted. “I always have. If you wanted to be with me, you should’ve respected me.”

“I can’t pretend I don’t give a damn about your life. You’re too important to me.” His volume rose. “I’m the one who brought you here. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”

“It’s
my
responsibility to protect Robby. Even if I haven’t done everything right, I can’t fail him now. This is my last chance to make things right between us. I have to be a part of this. He’s
my
brother!”

“And you are
my
world
. Don’t you know what you mean to me?”

“Then why would you repeat our past mistakes?” Hurt clawed through her. She couldn’t imagine going back to how they were before this trip. The notion ripped through the shattered glass of her former hopes. “I don’t need a protector. I need a partner who stands with me, not someone who works against me every time I turn around.”

He clasped her face between his hands. “I need you safe, Layla. Alive, whole, mine. Can’t you understand?”

“I understand your priorities perfectly.” Her chest caved under the weight of his betrayal. “I gave you—us—a second chance. For nothing.”

The truth stripped her emotions bare, leaving her ravaged.

He shook his head, his expression fierce. “This isn’t like last time. You have to believe me. Everything I’ve done has been for you—”

“I never asked! I never asked you to lie to my face out of some noble obligation that you use as an excuse to call the shots. I never asked you to fight my battles.”

“I know, but—”

“We’re done talking about this.” She whipped around and headed for the door.

“Now look who’s repeating the past,” he snarled.

Halfway out the door, she paused. “I guess some things just don’t change. No matter how much you hope they will.”

“Layla.”

She slammed the door.

Blake punched the wall. Pieces of cracked tile fell to the floor.

Numbly he dressed and ran the conversation over through his mind. He should’ve said what he’d wanted to say despite her interruption.
I know, but…
that’s what you do for love
.

If he’d admitted it, if he’d said
I love you
, would she have listened? Would she have believed him? Or would she have shielded her heart from him yet again because he’d come too close, cared too much?

She wasn’t here. They hadn’t reconciled. They weren’t having make-up sex. There was his answer. “Damn it.”

Maybe some emotions were too ingrained. Some scars so damaging even love couldn’t heal them.

Where the hell did that leave him and Layla?

The deadened echo in his chest answered with the unbearable reality. They were back where they were a year ago.

Shit. Shit. Shit
. He should’ve told her the truth. Let her in on the grim details, regardless of how much he wanted to spare her the pain and agony of knowing the mounting danger surrounding her brother.

He’d had the opportunity and blew it. Not that Layla’s preconceived expectations helped any.