Bluegrass Undercover (15 page)

“
It’s perfect. Now, I think it’s unfair you have seen me naked, but I haven’t seen you naked yet.”

“
I had my eyes covered, remember.”

“
Liar.” He set her down and brought his lips to hers. Softly, slowly he tasted her. He reached for her shirt and stripped it off before looking down at her. She was gorgeous, and he was going to show her just how amazing he thought she was.

He ran his hands down her sides and over the curve of her hips. Her skin was so soft. It was ivory and there was a sprinkling of freckles covering her shoulders. He leaned down to kiss them. He worked his way up the column of her neck and grew bolder when he heard her moan in satisfaction.

His hands slid under the elastic band of her sports bra and cupped her breast. His hand got stuck, though, as he tried to remove it to help take off the blasted thing. Smooth, Davies, real smooth. He was so nervous. He knew it already. He just wasn’t going to admit why it was so different this time. Cade slid his hands down her hips, under those cute pajamas, and down her legs while he pushed them to the ground.

It was going to be hard to make himself take his time. He felt himself losing control, something he prided himself in never doing. But getting a glimpse of her lush body was enough to snap any control he had left. His mouth came down on hers as he felt her fumble with his button as she tried to push his pants down. Screw control. It was overrated. There was something to be said for uncontrollable sex. He led her backwards a couple of steps and lowered her to the bed. New goal: to make sure she enjoyed it so much she’d forget to punch him.

* * *

Trevor Gaylen looked out over his domain. The gym was full, and the profits were up in both the legal and illegal incomes. All those thirty-something men down there getting wind of a new drug and thinking it would turn them into teenagers again had turned into a very profitable secondary market. Denial. It was a profit maker, that’s for sure.

Before getting into S2, he had sold leftover biochemical weapons materials to middle-aged women, promoting the promise of youthful appearance. It was a great way to dispose of all the outdated weapons materials no longer selling on the black market. S2’s new secondary market worked the same way. Men hit their mid to late thirties, their wives started to have babies, and they were faced with the fact they were no longer eighteen. Or, what he was seeing more of, was the thirty-seven year old bachelors trying to get laid at the college bars and being turned down because they were too old. S2 made them feel young again. They could lift more. They could run faster. They could trim up and get those six packs they always wanted.

It all boiled down to denial. Denial you were too old to nail sorority girls. Denial you were too old to keep up with the high school players on the rec room basketball courts. Denial you were now a mature woman and had wrinkles. And what did all that denial equal? Money.

At the knock on his door he turned to the video monitor that sat on his desk. His men were here. He pressed the buzzer that unlocked the door and waited for them to file in. The three men he had sent to remind Coach Davies to stay on track were staring at their feet. The three imbeciles who had previously failed looked like they were gloating, for their failures were now being replaced with newer failures. They were all screw-ups. It was hard to find good drug soldiers these days.

“
I got a call from Boss. Said the wrong car was destroyed. Also said it drew a lot of unwanted attention from parents when the owner of the car started screaming and Coach Davies started laughing. Do you have anything to say?”

“
I read the note with the information wrong. I don’t know why I thought it was a Ford. They both looked the same and were parked near each other. It was my mistake, sir.”

“
Well, Steve, I respect someone who takes responsibility for his mistakes. But, because you made that mistake you will now be the carrier of the new shipments coming in. If you get caught, your punishment will be the jail time you get. If you don’t get caught, there will be no punishment.” Gaylen took a seat in his black leather desk chair and pulled out the most recent sales information.

“
The latest orders are in. This is a big order, Steve, so don’t mess it up. Remember, this is your chance. Pick it up tomorrow and deliver it to our contacts at the Convention Center. The Personal Trainers of America are having their annual conference in Lexington this year. They’ll be arriving Friday, and their product must be delivered to them soon after.

“
Ross has really expanded our market with his NFL and trainer contacts. We will have new markets in Georgia, California and New York by the conclusion of the conference. Texas is booming while Florida is holding strong. All in all, business is going well. If Steve manages the pickup and drop, we’ll all be looking at some bonuses.”

He paused and let it soak into their dimwitted minds. They certainly had more in common with dumbbells than lifting. However, they were loyal and you could never beat that.

“
Now, back to our main problem. Boss says Coach Davies is wavering on his end of the deal. I’m afraid we need to send him a reminder of what will happen if he decides to no longer participate in our deal. Doug, you take your crew and make a little visit to remind the Coach of the repercussions of getting cold feet.”

* * *

Annie hung up the phone with her boss after updating him on the case and begging for a rookie to be sent to the school for an assembly on drug abuse. He wasn’t too happy about it, but that was what rookies were for. She had done thirteen assemblies when she was a rookie in Miami. Much to her surprise she had really liked it. She liked interacting with kids and being there for them, especially the ones she knew she could help. This undercover gig wasn’t so bad. She actually liked going to work although it was strange to not be armed. She was getting used to it though.

A knock at her closed door had her looking up through the glass window to see who it was this late after school. “Come in,” she said when she saw Trey’s face.

“
Am I interrupting you, Miss Hill? “ he asked with a slightly nervous look on his still maturing face.

“
Not at all, Trey. What can I do for you?”

“
I need help.” He sat down in one of her visitor’s chairs as if the weight of the world were on his young shoulders.

“
Are you in trouble?” She’d be shocked if he was. He seemed the perfect young man.

“
No, ma’am, but some people I know are doing something that makes me uncomfortable. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal and it’s affecting the team. I just don’t know what to do because I know they’ll be in trouble.” Trey pushed back a long lock of blonde hair that had fallen forward and into his eye.

“
Who will they get in trouble with, Trey?”

“
Their parents, Coach, and shoot, ma’am, I don’t know who else, but I’m guessing the police wouldn’t look too kindly on it.”

“
What are they doing that could get them in trouble? Are they in danger?”

Annie held her breath. This was it. It was her break. If Trey would just un-shoulder some of the load, she could make her case.

“
I don’t think they are in danger. At least they don’t act like it.” He paused and looked up at the ceiling before looking her in the eyes again. “I just don’t know if I should turn them in and risk ruining the rest of their lives.”

“
Do they know what they are doing is wrong or that it could ruin the rest of their lives? It seems if you tell me what it is, I can help you make that decision. You don’t have to do this all on your own.” Annie kept her gaze steady but gentle.

“That’s it!” Trey bolted from his seat. “I’m going to talk to them first. Straight up. I’m going to make sure they understand what they are doing to the team and what the consequences are if they get caught. I am the captain of this team, and I need to act like it. Thanks, Miss H!” And with that her best lead walked out the door.

Chapter Twelve

Annie pulled the baked spaghetti out of the oven and almost cried for the first time in her life. Things had changed, and she wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it. Almost a week ago she and Cade had made love for the first time, and since then they had been together every night.

Usually Cade would pick up dinner after practice, and they would talk about their day and about the case. They would watch some television, which would inevitably end up with their clothes tossed around the room and them naked on the couch some time later.

She would then kick him out when it started to get late. There was just something about spending the night sleeping with someone that was just too intimate and serious for her brain to handle. Cade seemed to take it well though and never complained when she started glancing at the clock.

One thing she had made clear was that there was to be no affection at school. She didn’t particularly like the fact that people knew about her personal life and wanted to keep it separate as much as possible. First off, she wasn’t one of those touchy feely people who liked public displays of affection, and she would never even think of doing that at school. Second, she knew it didn’t make sense, but in her mind if you were in a relationship, it made you vulnerable. She was vulnerable to speculation from her peers and friends and vulnerable to her enemies because they now knew her weakness. It also had the bad side effect of people judging her on her relationship as opposed to the job she was doing.

Annie stared at the burnt meal and began to try to scrape off the blackened top as she thought about when she was younger. When she was fifteen, her foster mother had been a serial dater. She had depended on man after man to give her an identity. She would be so and so’s girlfriend, never herself. She would depend on the boyfriend of the month to provide for her and in return she was his doormat.

Annie had been mortified by it and had taken pains to always be the one in control and to never lose her identity in a relationship. As a result, she was more inclined to go on a couple of dates and then the relationship just drifted away into nothingness. The men usually were intimidated by her anyway and because of that tried to exert control over her. She would not let them make her fit their concept of a “normal” woman who would sit eagerly by the phone waiting for them to call or who would do whatever she could to make him happy. She always got a kick out of that.

Being the simpering trophy girlfriend just wasn’t her style. She was too busy to worry if he called her or not. Most of the time she forgot about calling him at all, and most of his calls went to her voicemail. But, as she scraped another burnt layer off her failed attempt at cooking, she realized that this time was different. Cade didn’t complain about her job. He didn’t complain about the fact she didn’t call him. He didn’t complain about the fact that when at school she wanted to keep it professional. He didn’t even complain when her fears surfaced, and she hurried him from the house when it got late. Fears of those nights at the foster home always surfaced. It was why she couldn’t spend the night with anyone. Not realizing it, she stabbed the casserole dish with her knife as the flashback assaulted her.

Annie pulled on the old, ratty white undershirt that served as her nightgown and jumped onto the cot that served as her bed. The thin mattress sagged under her slight form as she pulled the musky covers over her head. She had turned twelve years old today, but no one knew it. It was just another night in Hell. She’d been at this foster home for four weeks, and her only escape was school that started last week.

She shared a room with two other girls, Stacy and Sarah. They were both eight years old. She was the big sister, and the girls looked to her to protect them, but she couldn’t. She had tried, oh, how she had tried. She had received a broken rib for the effort along with a black eye and probably a concussion, but she had never seen a doctor.

The floor board creaked, and a shadow blocked the light coming under the door from the hall. Hell had arrived. Stacy and Sarah stifled a cry and pulled the covers tight to their little chins. Annie heard the door open and closed her eyes. She started working over the science problems from class that day and tried to block out the screams coming from the girls. The first night she was there she had jumped on his back and tried to stop him from hurting them. She had saved them that night, but she had been so badly beaten that she couldn’t stop him again.

As she huddled under her blanket that hadn’t been washed the whole time she’d been there, she thought about her science teacher Miss Whitebuckler. School hadn’t started yet when she had arrived, and after the scars from her beating faded, she had been enrolled in school. Miss Whitebuckler would help. She was a tough but fair older woman who had taken a liking to her. She knew no one else would listen to her. Social services thought she was a liar and stopped investigating the claims of neglect and abuse she had told them about.

The sobs reached her ears along with the crack of the belt. She knew she couldn’t stand it anymore. She peeked out from the covers to peer at the broken floor lamp near her bed. She slowly slid out from the side of the bed and onto the floor. Her knees scraped along the rough hardwood floor as she crawled to the lamp. The long rusted pole was solid enough to be of some assistance. She hadn’t been labeled a troublemaker for nothing, and this time she knew what she was up against.