Never Trust a Saint (LOS SANTOS Cartel story #1) Page 3

  Turning my back on the heartache, I made to leave but came to an immediate stop.

  He was there.

  Standing with his hands in pockets, he watched. Not the proceedings happening around me, but his eyes were carefully following my every movement, his expression not revealing any hint of his thoughts. He stood, in all his confident glory, at the top of the slope near the small cemetery road lined with black vehicles.

  Swallowing hard, my palms grew sweaty. Since the night of the ball, he’d brought to life feelings I never knew existed. I was heavily attracted to his enigma. The power he exuded that made me feel so deliciously weak, but capable at the same time. But then there was the other side. The one that left me utterly terrified. Like a weak little creature under his preying watch. And now, I had the very real question of whether he played a role in Garcia’s death.

  Daring to break contact, I threw a sidewards glance at the Chief whose voice was in conversation with other agents. He would know who he was. Tapping him on the shoulder, the curious glances of all those I worked but had little in common with, assessed me. They weren’t the sort that were easy to become friends with. They were aware Garcia was my partner and best friend, yet not one of them extended their condolences. Perhaps years in the force had eroded their sense of empathy.

  “Cross,” the Chief turned his face but not his whole body to greet me. It was an action that grated on my nerves. I was only new to the force and I always felt like he treated me as a second rate agent even though I held a high ‘case closed’ number. “How you holding up?”

  “What one would expect, I guess,” he acknowledged with a small disinterested nod but it didn’t deter me. “I was wondering if you would know the man standing to your left, up the hill.”

  He turned and only moments later met my gaze with a curious frown. “Who?”

  Moving to the side, unblocking my line of sight from the other agents. I inhaled sharply. The man who had me on edge for unexplainable reasons was now gone.

  “The same man that was at the charity ball the other night. Sat at table thirteen.”

  “I’m not in the habit of assessing every man in the same room as me, Cross, despite my job. I have no idea who you are talking about. Are you feeling all right?”

  This caught me off guard. “Yes, why?”

  The pitying stares of the others eavesdropping in our conversation only incited a rage within.

  “Never mind.” Was all I said, taking my leave.

  I needed to get back to the station before they all returned and my window of opportunity closed.

  ***

  “I can get into serious trouble for this, Nina.”

  I looked at Alex, who worked in the IT department with a sense of guilt and hope. “No one will ever know you did this, I swear.”

  This time, he eyed me with a curious stare, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?” I asked, confused.

  “About what the Chief said?” He said it with so much caution, he barely mouthed the words.

  “What did the Chief say? And I will tell you whether I know it or not.”

  I wasn’t in the mood for playing games.

  “I should go.” His nerves got too much for him, as he made to stand.

  “Alex, please.” I wasn’t too prideful not to beg. “I need help, and you may very well be the only one still with his wits that can.”

  He was torn. Caught in the middle and I didn’t envy his position.

  “Garcia was a good man and now he’s laying six foot under,” I reminded him. The three of us had spent a great deal of time together since I started work at the agency. Alex was our tech-go-to since most of our work was done by online surveillance, and I knew he and Garcia shared a friendship. “He deserves a proper investigation. Now tell me what the Chief said that has you so nervous.”

  Alex looked to the floor struggling with his inner debate. “The Chief has told a select few that they are not to assist in any investigation you may be launching on your own.”

  Why would he do that?

  Did he not trust my position?

  Did he feel me guilty of something?

  Swallowing hard, I licked my suddenly dry lips and wiped my sweaty hands on my dress.

  “Alex, I only have Garcia’s interests at heart. I’m sure I’m not the only one here who feels like his death has been swept under the carpet.”

  He gave a small nod, lips pursed in acknowledgment.

  “So please, will you help me?”

  This time, when his eyes met mine, I was filled with some hope.

  “What do you want to know?

  ***

  “This is Evan Jacobs. He was Garcia’s partner of two years,” Alex said nodding to the photo on the computer screen. He was a good looking man with extremely dark eyes and strong jawline.

  “I’ve heard of him but was told nothing. It was fairly hush-hush from what I did hear.”

  “You heard correct. Jacobs was suspended without pay indefinitely. I believe he still has an investigation hovering over his head.”

  “For what, though?” I leaned back in my chair and absently twisted an elastic band around my fingers.

  “His file is protected, one of the very few under tight security. If I even try to hack it, it brings up an alert. But from what I do know, Jacobs was involved with the wrong people. Some are calling him a double agent, some straight up claim he’s a drug lord.”

  “For which cartel?”

  Alex pointed to the screen. “That my dear, is locked away.”

  Heaving a sigh, I contemplated what was being said. It was very little information but it had the potential to open a few doors. “So was Garcia ever suspected of being involved?”

  “Jacobs happily removed himself from his position before Garcia was brought into the spotlight. Before you came to town here, Garcia was questioned and monitored for a short while but came up all clear. Jacobs on the other hand, remains unsolved. I believe there’s a task force who still works at trying to bring him down.”

  “Do you have an address?”

  “For Evan Jacobs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh… no, no, no. You don’t want to see him.”

  “Why not? I won’t tell him we spoke, I swear.”

  “It’s not that. He’s considered a highly dangerous man. You going in and questioning his behavior and contacts is not a wise move.”

  “I promise I’ll be fine. I won’t do anything stupid. But I do have one last favor to ask.”

  Chapter 5

  I left the station before anyone had returned, the sky now black. To say I was overwhelmed was an understatement. Garcia’s death was like no other. It was close to home. Personal.

  I wanted him to be able to rest in peace. His memory and legacy of being one the best agents to be remembered fondly.

  Asking the cab driver to pull over a few blocks away from home, I paid my fare and decided to walk, in an effort to clear my head. The streets were bustling with people who were just beginning their night of frivolity. Stopping outside the exclusive bar only a few doors down from my apartment, I eyed the inside. It was half empty, the lights down low. Perfect.

  Ordering a martini, I took a seat and listened to Adam, the bartender who had served me a few times, talk about his day. He was cute, friendly and extremely blunt.

  “You look like shit,” he said in the kindest way possible.

  “Thanks,” I replied sipping my cocktail.

  “No, seriously. What’s happened? You’re normally the hottest woman in town.”

  His overly generous and flirtatious compliment had me snorting the vodka before all humor was set aside.

  “It was my partner’s funeral today.”

  His brows knitted together in confusion. “Garcia?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fuck me! I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  “I saw him the other day. Last week in fa
ct.”

  “Last week?” Garcia should have been in Arizona at that point in time. “Are you sure?”

  “Quite sure,” he said, picking up a wine glass to shine. “He was here with another man.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “He was stressed, a little agitated.”

  “Not Garcia, the man he was with.”

  “Oh. Well, he was tall, good looking, black hair and tanned skin.”

  From that brief description and from the photo I spent a good thirty minutes staring at this afternoon, I was fairly sure Adam just described Evan Jacobs.

  “You say he was agitated?”

  “Yes, they ordered drinks and spent the whole time bickering about something. When they left, they hadn’t even touched their martinis.”

  Why was Garcia still in contact with Evan Jacobs, if indeed it was him?

  It was a somewhat risky friendship to maintain given the cartel connections.

  Throwing some bills on the counter, I thanked Adam and left with only one thought in mind. Tomas Garcia owed me an explanation, and since he was no longer around to give me one, I would have to find it for myself.

  ***

  Dropping my keys on the kitchen counter I made my way straight to the bedroom, switching on the small nightstand light. Unhooking my service gun from my thigh holster, I ejected the magazine and stowed the separate pieces in the drawer. Lifting my dress over my head I threw it on the bed and immediately froze.

  Like a drum, my heart pounded painfully in my chest. The small hairs on my neck stood on end. I knew this feeling. These feelings only belonged to only one man.

  I inhaled, my breath shaky, shoulders squaring.

  I didn’t want to turn around.

  I couldn’t.

  I could feel his stare.

  He was here.

  The perfect stranger was in my room.

  “Don’t stop there,” his husky voice carried a suggestive edge. It cut through the silence like a knife, a quiver of both fear and something else coursing through my body. I stood in only my underwear. Exposed. Slowly turning, I studied the dark corner of my room that left the man shrouded in shadows. I couldn’t see his features, just a glimmer of light reflecting off his shoe that sat propped up on one knee.

  “How did you get in here?” my trembling voice betrayed me.

  There was a pause, one designed to further rattle me. I could feel him watching, assessing my vulnerable state. The whites of his eyes caught the light and he looked every bit the devil. “Why do you disarm your service gun?”

  “What?”

  “You shouldn’t leave yourself unprotected.”

  I too knew it wasn’t wise. Especially now in this situation where I was the weak one.

  “My partner was killed with his own Glock.”

  He moved forward on the chair, the shadow slowly fading to reveal his features. His eyes flicked downward for the briefest moment. My gaze followed and when I saw the shine of metal in the subtle light, I took a terrified step back. His Glock sat perched on his knee, his finger caressing the trigger. “You’re too smart to make rookie errors.”

  I was a rookie and I was certainly making a lot of rookie errors.

  “Why are you here?” I stammered. His finger tapped on the ridge of his gun, my gaze following the movement.

  He remained silent, watching, waiting.

  Was this my death?

  Was I to face the same fate as Garcia?

  I swallowed hard knowing he was studying me. Watching my chest move to the beat of my heart.

  He stood, intimidating me with his powerful physique. Stepping forward, the light revealed the features that had haunted my dreams the night of the ball. A range of emotions I had no right to feel consumed me. How could one man simultaneously make me so vulnerable and so incredibly desired at the same time?

  “Why are you here?” I asked again.

  “Let’s just say you have piqued my curiosity, Nina.” The sound of his accented, gravely voice sent shivers of delight through my body.

  “Tell me who you are?”

  Slowly he advanced forward, like a jungle cat zeroing in on its prey. Taking a hurried step back, I collided with the wall.

  He inched closer yet we didn’t touch, only millimeters separating our heated bodies. There was a current that flowed between us, one I desperately wanted to appease and one I desperately needed to escape from.

  He was taller than me by a good foot and I felt dwarfed under the intensity of his gaze. Using the tip of the barrel, the perfect stranger tilted my chin until we met face to face.

  His eyes were hooded. Wanting.

  I should be running. I should be reaching for my own weapon. I should be anywhere but trapped between a wall and this man who made me traitorously wet between the legs.

  “You don’t need to know who I am just yet.” He ran the Glock down my cheek, the coolness of the metal a contrast to my flushed face. “You look so beautiful when you’re scared.”

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “You are of no use to me dead.”

  The perfect stranger lowered his mouth next to mine, eyes falling upon my rapidly moving chest.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  Before I could respond, he pinned me to the wall with a kiss that was a mix of passion and possession, both of which left me weak for him. When his tongue met mine claiming every bit of submission, I knew I was in trouble. I wanted to fight him off. Despite him consuming my dreams for the last three nights, I didn’t know him. He was my gun wielding perfect stranger. I should have known better.

  He sent a fear through me. Captivated me. And I wanted more of it.

  He deepened the kiss, the roughness of his face against mine igniting my senses. His approving groan mixed with my whimper.

  “You need to stop,” I mouthed, pushing at his firm shoulders.

  Ignoring me, he wrapped his hands around my wrists, pinning them to the wall above.

  “I won’t stop until I get what I came here for.” His deep voice was like a rumble, and my resolve abandoned me.

  With narrowed eyes he drank me in, causing a shiver of panic, the corners of his lips twitching at my reaction. Then as the roughness of his cheek trailed down my neck, lips sucking, and teeth gently biting my skin, I caved. My clit unfairly responded to his hard cock pressing against me, and I decided then this was a battle I wanted to lose.

  Placing his Glock in the drawer with mine, he spun me until my breasts were pressed against the wall. Reaching his hand around my waist, he slid it inside my panties until his entire palm was cupping my pussy.

  I was breathing heavy, my body tormented between right and wrong.

  His lips grazed my ear just like they had on the dance floor a few nights earlier. “I told you to be careful who you trust, cariña.” His deep voice rang out as a warning and a single tear ran down my cheek. It was clear, my head, heart, and body were not working in unison.

  “Can I trust you?”

  “No.”

  My sharp inhale was cut short, my intruder’s fingers dancing circles over my sensitive clit.

  Why was he doing this to me? Could he sense my attraction for him? Could he see how vulnerable he made me?

  Lost in ecstasy, my head lolled back against his shoulder. Twisting my hair in his fist, he tilted my head, lips possessively claiming mine. My groan sounded more like a cry when two fingers forced inside me starting a tantalizing rhythm.

  “When you give in…” he murmured against my ear, “…and trust someone you shouldn’t…” he sunk his fingers deeper inside and I lost my breath, “…you become vulnerable.”

  Squirming against his hold, my thighs clamped around his hand but it was no use. Releasing my hair, his hand fell to my breast, kneading each one while pulling at my nipples.

  “St—” My protest cut short, I clenched around his fingers, each rapid stroke of my clit encouraging an orga
sm that flowed in waves.

  I cried out in pleasure.

  I gave into a man who I didn’t know.

  His fingers moved slower, gliding in and out as my pussy throbbed in the aftermath.

  “I want to taste your vulnerability. I want you to crave it.”

  Yanking me away from the wall, I wobbled back into his stronghold until he pushed me forward on the bed and climbed over the top. Snatching my left wrist, he slid the cold metal of a handcuff over it before attaching the other end to the bedhead.

  Pulling against the restraint, panic tore through me. I was allowing this hole to be dug deeper, this man whether he was dangerous or not had the complete upper hand and I had simply allowed him to take it. His rough hands massaged down my back, squeezing my waist before ripping off my underwear. The tear broke through the silence and dug into my thighs. Propping me slightly on my knees, he spread my legs. My sensitive pussy relished in delight as his tongue plunged deep inside tasting me the way he promised. I rocked back and forth, enjoying the sensation. Breaking the rhythm, he pulled away unzipping his jeans and placed his cock at my entry. His hand hooked around my waist and brought to life my clit once again. It was a distraction. Something to take the edge off of the feeling of his cock being buried deep within. I cried out with a mix of pleasure and pain, my one free hand clutching desperately at the pillow as he entered hard.

  Behind me, my possessor thrust deep, my sensitive pussy demanding more. My exposed nipples grazed the bed cover, teasing them into hardness.

  Still not yet recovered from the last, I felt the surge of another climax. The way he smashed into me, holding me prisoner yet demanding my pleasure was just too great a conflict not to warrant a response. When I clenched around his hard cock, he deepened his strides encouraging a husky scream, my orgasm raw and needy.

  Collapsing onto the bed, sweaty and void of all strength, I let my stranger ride me softly, his teeth biting a delicious trail down my neck.

  As my eyes began to close from physical and mental exhaustion, my pussy was granted no reprieve. Taking advantage of my sensitivity, he pulled out and flipped me over onto my back before nestling his face between my legs. The new sensation of feeling his rough face against my smooth thighs and throbbing clit had me gripping the pillow once more.