Con Man: Complete Series Box Set: A Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

I
sat at my desk
, heart pounding a million miles per minute. I was pretty sure I looked busy; back perfectly straight, jacket hanging on the back of my chair as I stared at my computer like it would magically answer all the questions racing through my frantic mind. I was also pretty sure that I'd been looking at the same email for the past twenty minutes and still had no clue what it said.

I was in over my head.

And that was actually the biggest understatement to ever come out of my brain.

My best friend and childhood love was the perpetrator of a major theft, and I was supposed to be serving justice. Instead, I'd hidden it from my partner and my superiors. I'd let him kiss me – well, okay, so maybe I could play the shock factor into that one, but still. And then I quit chasing him when I realized what it would mean for the both of us if I caught him.

“Hey, Karis, everything okay?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin as Benita came up beside me. Immediately, I was swamped with guilt. She'd trained me, shown me all the ropes, and yet here I was, betraying everything she'd ever taught me.

It was wrong.

I
was wrong.

That was when I knew I had to come clean. I
had
to. I couldn’t keep lying to her, not without completely ruining everything I'd worked so hard to accomplish. She was my partner, and I needed her to trust me. I needed to trust
her
.

I made my decision.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure.” Her expression sobered when she looked at me. “What’s going on?”

“Um, can we talk in
private
?”

Something about my tone must've told her that it was big because Benita didn’t question me further. “Is my car alright? That wind out there's nasty.”

I nodded as I stood and pulled on my jacket. “That would be great. Really great.”

I followed her out, and to her credit, she didn’t try to question me as we walked. In fact, she kept relatively quiet. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her head, and she was far too good at blank-face for me to read it. I just hoped that I knew her character well enough to know that she'd try to give me the benefit of the doubt.

No matter what, though, I had to do what was right. Otherwise, was I really any less of a criminal than Bron?

Once inside the car with the heater going, Benita turned to me. “What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Because I’ve never been like this.” I took a deep breath, but somehow it just wasn’t deep enough. My nerves, usually steady, were shot to hell at the moment. “I owe you an apology.”

“Uh-huh…” Her tone was almost neutral, but there was an impatient edge to it that would have made me smile if I hadn't felt like she was going to hate me when I was done.

“I’ve been lying about a lead on our case.”

That got her attention, although her face barely changed. If I hadn't been working so closely with her, I doubted I would've seen anything at all.

“Go on.” The words weren't mean or cold, but they weren't warm either.

“I caught sight of the thief's reflection in the security feed.”

“His reflection?” Her eyes narrowed. “I must have watched that a hundred times, and I know there's no mirror anywhere in any of the camera feeds.”

I shook my head, taking a moment to swallow in a vain attempt to wet my nervously dry mouth. “I spotted it on the door. The janitor polishes them
really
well.”

“Hot damn.”

Despite the fact that I'd hidden it from her, Benita still sounded impressed.

“I never would have thought of that. You have a good eye, Karis. But why all the secrecy? Were you trying to make a name for yourself by figuring this all out and leaving your partner in the dust?” She shrugged as if it didn't matter. “It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. I’m just surprised you caught onto the office politics so quickly.”

I shook my head. “No, I'd never do anything like that.” She looked pleased at my words, but I was pretty sure that bit of happiness wouldn’t last long.

“Then what’s going on?” She laughed wryly. “You look like someone just told you your dog died.”

I forced myself to look her square in the face. I wasn't going to let myself hide from her. “I recognized him.”

I'd never seen a smile drop off someone’s face so fast. Her expression tightened, and she was silent for a good ten seconds before she spoke again. Her words deliberate and slow. “You wanna say that again?”

“I’ve told you a couple of stories about when I was a kid, right?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, a clear sign that she was pissed. “You’re not exactly a fountain of information, Agent Melendez. You’ve told me a grand total of three memories. Everything else I had to read in your file.”

Shit. She never called me Agent Melendez unless she was introducing me, or she was angry.

“Do you remember anything about what I told you?”

“Of course. The time you broke your arm because you bet your best friend you could race down a hill faster than him. The time you and your buddy put a school bully in the trashcan, and the time the two of you almost set the kitchen on fire while making toast. If you’re trying to make me soften up with some cozy tales of childhood, not really the best plan.”

“That's not what I'm trying to do. I’m not an idiot.” I considered the statement, then amended it, “Well I am, just not about that.” I swallowed again. It didn’t help. “You read about some my childhood in my file. Mom ran off. Dad committed suicide. Then I was sent off to live with my aunt who died when I was twenty-two.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I know all that.”

“But what that file doesn't say is that around the same time all that was happening, my best friend, the boy I told you about, lost his parents too. Except his were killed in a home invasion gone wrong. He didn't have any other family, so he got put in the system. And you know how it is in some of those homes. Abuse, fights with other kids...getting involved in criminal activities.”

“Why are you prattling on abo-” She stopped mid-sentence, and her eyes grew wide. “No. Please, don’t tell me you’re saying it was him.”

I nodded, thankful that she already came to the conclusion. “I never saw him again after CPS took him away, but I recognized him the moment I saw his reflection. His name was Broderick Murray, but that name vanished when he ran away from the last group home he was in. I don’t know what name he goes by now. But when I thought it might be him, I had to make sure. I needed…I needed to know what happened. How he'd turned into a thief.”

Benita’s edge had faded, and now she was just slowly shaking her head. “Oh kid, what've you gotten yourself into?”

I couldn’t help but mentally echo her sentiment. What indeed? I'd be lucky to get away with just the loss of my job. If she wanted to, she could have obstruction charges brought against me. Especially if I told her how close I'd been to getting him today.

“I should turn you into Colman right now so he can fire your ass.”

“
Should
?” A ray of light cut through the darkness.

“But I’m not. You're telling me now, and that means you know we need to go after him.” She settled back in her seat and gave me a hard look. “Tell me everything you know about this guy. And I mean
everything.
If I think you're holding back on me, or still trying to protect him, I'll turn you in.”

I nodded. “I understand. And thank you.”

Her mouth twisted into something that looked like a cross between a smile and a frown. “Don't thank me yet, rookie.”

I nodded again, then started to recount every notable physical trait and personality quirk I could remember. It was painful, recounting memories that put me back into a time I'd never be able to reach again. A time when I'd been happy, normal. I hadn't been the half-abandoned, half-orphaned kid who'd lost everything. Things hadn't been perfect. I knew that, and I wasn't trying to romanticize my past, but I'd had my parents, and I'd had Bron.

To her credit, Benita sat and listened, only stopping me when she needed to ask a question, but never commenting on anything I was telling her. Colman called her after the first thirty minutes, but she answered tersely about being in the field and let me keep going.

When I finally finished everything, I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I never realized how much it'd affected me, not talking about what happened. My aunt had been content to let me grieve and process in my own way, and I'd been grateful for that, but I could see now that it might have done me some good if I’d been more open with my therapist. I knew I still had to deal with the consequences of my actions, but having someone who knew all of it made me feel lighter somehow.

Okay,
almost
all since I hadn't told her the details about what happened this morning between Bron and me, specifically about the kiss.

Benita let out a long breath, and I waited for the judgment.

“Alright,” she said finally. “I’m on your side.”

The relief was almost enough to make me sick. “You are?”

“Yeah. This kid probably got himself snatched up by someone who groomed kids like him. No way does some random kid turn into a successful art thief without a mentor. And I'll almost guarantee that child's teacher has a lot more crimes to his name than your Bron. We turn Bron in now, and we’ll never find the source. Even if Bron's not working for his teacher now, if we manage to get to a bigger fish, maybe we can work something out for your friend.”

I nodded, stunned at her words. I'd been more than grateful that she'd decided not to turn me in to Colman, but I'd expected that we'd move on Bron like any other criminal. I'd never in a million years thought that she'd agree for the two of us to work alone so we could possibly help a childhood friend.

“Thank you.” The two words didn't seem even close to adequate enough to express what I was feeling.

She gave me a brisk nod, then something in her expression shifted. “Tell me one thing.”

“Yes, anything.”

“Are you still in love with him?”

I knew what she was hoping I'd say, but after how much I'd kept from her – and knowing that I was keeping that kiss a secret still – I had to be honest. The only problem was, I wasn't entirely sure what the truthful answer was. What I'd felt for him before had been an innocent, child-like love. I hadn't even really gotten to the older adolescent stage before he disappeared. Then years apart, not knowing who he'd become. A connection was there, I couldn't deny it, but I didn't know if it was something that would go away as I received closure, or something that could turn into an adult, grown-up version of what I'd felt as a child.

“I don’t know,” I answered finally.

She nodded. “Thank you for being honest.” She opened the car door. “We’ll play today like everything’s the same, but tomorrow, you and I are diving head-first into this investigation.”

I nodded in agreement and opened my door.

“Oh, and Karis?”

“Yeah?” I said, looking at her over the hood of her Jeep.

“You owe me about a dozen pizzas now.”

I flashed her the biggest smile I could manage at the moment. “At least.”

As we walked back inside, I knew that, no matter how much Benita was on my side, things would come up that I couldn't ask her to protect me from. Decisions I would have to make. Emotions I would need to sort. She would support me, help me as much as she could.

But when it came down to how I felt about Bron, and what that would mean for my future, I was still alone.

I
stared
up at my ceiling, frustration, and confusion mounting, making sleep practically impossible. I sighed in exasperation and rolled over, flipping my pillow as well. If only all my problems could be solved by something as simple as changing positions or turning over to a cooler side of a pillowcase.

Somehow, I managed to keep my job today. Now that Benita was risking her career as well as mine, it seemed much less likely that this pursuit of my childhood...
whatever
was going to leave me without a career. We just had to keep Colman and his too-friendly hands away from it as long as possible. Once Benita and I got everything into place, we could bring Colman in on things, and he'd be none the wiser.

I was incredibly grateful to my mentor for understanding and agreeing to help me. I knew I was both in over my head, and emotionally compromised by Bron, even if I didn't know exactly how I felt about him anymore. I needed Benita's experience and expertise if I wanted to get this under control before it got any further out of hand.

I also needed a good night’s sleep. I wasn’t going to get anywhere if I dropped dead of exhaustion. I needed to clear my mind, start thinking objectively like I'd been trained to do, and get some shuteye.

I'd never had an easy time sleeping, especially after my mom left and my father...died. My aunt made me see a therapist a couple times, and he'd given me some breathing exercises to help me relax.

I closed my eyes, took slow, steady breaths. It took longer than usual to work, but eventually, I felt the tension start to ease. And, at some point, I finally fell asleep.

* * *

“
Y
ou came
.”

I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my eyes. I was at some sort of gallery, or maybe a museum. I couldn’t quite place it, but it was beautiful.

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again.”

The voice came again, and this time, colors swirled and warped in front of me until Bron stepped out of nothing. I was struck again by how handsome he had become. He was so tall, easily six inches taller than my own six feet. Still lean, but clearly strong. His hair was just as wild as ever, his eyes still intense. He was a man now, but I could see the boy in there too.

“You haven’t exactly made it easy,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even despite the fact that he made my pulse race.

“I know, and, for that, I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere as he stepped toward me. “But perhaps here we can forget about all that troubles us and just dance?” He held out a hand.

“Dance?” I asked with a wry grin. “To what? You should know better than to try to feed me a line like that.”

He tilted his head to the side, and my heart missed a beat. It wasn’t right for someone to be so charming.

“Can’t you hear the band?”

I started to shake my head, but then, sure enough, the rich tones of a piano drifted through the air, followed closely by the lilting melody of a violin, maybe a cello. I knew the music, but couldn't name it.

“How did you do that?” I asked more curious than surprised.

He held out his hand. “Don't worry about it. Now, how about that dance?”

“What on earth makes you think I know anything about ballroom dancing?” I laughed. “What cheesy romance novel have you been hiding in?”

He laughed, and I swore the sound was pure sin. “Just trust me. Like old times, right?”

I stood there, in the strange room, with the strange band, and a strange man I now barely knew but was still irrevocably drawn to. His hand was still held out, the look on his face one of immeasurable patience.

I took a deep breath and then slid my hand into his. The smile that lit up his face was new, real, and he used my hand to pull me into his arms. He held me just like all of those magical ball scenes I had seen at least a dozen times in the movies or on TV. I expected to stumble, since I didn't know the steps, but to my surprise, we drifted across the floor quite elegantly.

“I missed you, you know,” he murmured above my head.

“I taught myself to forget about you,” I admitted. “It hurt too much, and I couldn't take any more pain. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, just a survivalist.” He gave me a sad smile.

I didn't want him to be sad. I wanted to see that real smile again.

He continued, “I think that’s why you’re willing to forgive all this trouble I’m stirring up for you. You know I only did what I had to do to survive. You know who I really am.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

I leaned my head against his chest. It was warm, and solid, and felt so real even though some part of me knew it wasn't. His heart beat under my ear, racing along despite his calm demeanor.

“I wish you hadn’t run away from me,” I murmured. “I know why you did, but I wish you hadn't.”

“I wish you hadn’t stopped chasing me,” he countered. “I might've let you catch me.”

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that welled up. We both knew what would've happened if I'd caught him. What would happen eventually. “I'll find you again.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Bron.” I hesitated. “I have a question.”

One side of his lips quirked up. “I'm sure you have more than one.”

I rolled my eyes. “I'm being serious.”

“I know. And I’m totally serious. Look at my face. The ultimate in respect and maturity.”

I risked a glance up only to see him smirking at me. I could only sigh and return my head to his chest. He'd always been like that. “If none of those terrible, awful things had happened, do you think we would…we…”

“Do I think we would be together?”

I nodded. I couldn’t work up the courage to look at him. I could face down FBI recruits, cops, criminals, my boss...but not him.

“I think you know the answer to that, Karis.”

I sighed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” I fell silent, and just let the music fill the air around us. I knew this was a dream; a beautiful, perfect dream.

And like all dreams, it had to end.

But not yet.

First, there was something I wanted to do, even if it was only in my subconscious.

I looked up at him now, let myself meet those beautiful cerulean blue eyes of his. I ran my fingers through his hair, then down to the back of his neck. I pulled his head down and kissed him. No rush, no shame, just him and me.