Sweet Ride (37 page)

I’m thinking about
all of this as I shower for the day, when suddenly the foggy glass
door opens, and I turn around to witness Jack sizing me up in all my
wet, naked glory.

“Fuck me,” he
groans, as his eyes lazily move up my body, stopping when they meet
my gaze. His gruff, throaty remark makes me instantly wet (well,
wetter) and aching.

“Jack,” I whimper,
slowly walking toward him. His hands grip me by the upper arms,
pulling me into his hard chest.

“Devon called with a
lead on the fifth guy, so I’ve got to check it out. I’ll breathe
easier knowing this fucker can’t get to you,” he softly says
against my mouth, placing a tender kiss against my lips. I nuzzle my
face into his neck, breathing in his scent as he places soft,
lingering kisses along the side of my face, down my neck, and across
my shoulder. Even with the warmth from the enveloping steam rising
from the shower, my body’s only reaction is to shiver as goose
bumps spread across my skin.

“Please be careful,
baby,” I mumble against his neck.

“I will, and I’ll
be back before you know it,” he says reassuringly.

“Okay,” I say,
lifting my head up toward him and pressing my lips against his again.
His tongue slides into my mouth, gently stroking and tasting me. We
both groan in unison as the kiss deepens. Our laughter bubbling
interrupts our kiss.

“Langston’s on duty
today. He’s down in the kitchen having a cup of Joe. If you go
anywhere, make sure he’s with you,” he tells me.

“Okay. Have I told
you I love you yet today?” I ask him.

“Yeah, but I never
get tired of hearing it,” he admits.

“I love you, Jack,”
I whisper.

“Love you, too,
beautiful,” he murmurs back, placing yet another gentle kiss on my
lips. “Gotta go,” he says, pulling away and walking to the door,
but before he leaves, he turns around with a sultry smile spreading
across his face and says, “Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Gonna fuck you in
the shower when I get home, then gonna make love to you in our bed.”

“Look forward to it, gorgeous,”
I say, watching as he turns and walks out the door.

As I climb into the
GTO, my brain’s still trying to absorb what Devon told me on the
phone not ten minutes ago. Apparently Juan is an acquaintance of
Dag’s. Actually, he’s more than an acquaintance, he’s
apparently Dag’s baby mama’s half-brother, and they’ve know
each other pretty much their whole fucking lives. Once again, how the
fuck did we miss that kind of info?

I shove the key in the
ignition and turn it until I hear the rumble of the engine cut in,
then pull out of the parking garage and head toward Juan’s house.
According to Devon, he has a long rap sheet, which includes charges
of gun dealing that occurred ten years ago.

I missed this because
I’ve been too caught up with getting Payton back. Now that I’ve
finally got her, I remember the day I visited her at Pulse and Dag
showed up. When Juan came around the bar, Payton had introduced the
two men, and Juan was acting shady. Should’ve noticed that shit.
Fuckin’ rookie mistake.

Ten minutes later, I
pull to the side of the road, parking in front of Juan’s bungalow.
I wait for my back up to show before making my way to question
Payton’s boss. After another thirty minutes go by, and Devon still
hasn’t shown, I try calling him on his cell, but it goes straight
to voice mail. I lose my patience, get out of my car, and head toward
the house solo. I knock on the front door and wait. The door opens
and there stands Juan’s wife, Bianca.

“Jack, what are you
doing here?” she asks.

“Came to see Juan. He
in?” I ask, already knowing that he is.

“The bar doesn’t
open until three, so he’s home until then. Come in,” she says,
standing aside, motioning for me to walk through the door.

“Juan, there’s
someone here to see you,” she yells down the hallway as she shows
me into their homey little living room.

“Sit, make yourself
comfortable,” Bianca tells me. I’m too anxious right now, and the
thought of sitting still on the sofa doesn’t work for me. I pace
back and forth while she watches me, waiting for Juan to join us in
the room.

A couple of minutes
later the man makes an appearance. “Jack? What’s going on? Is
there something wrong with Payton?” he asks, concerned.

“Payton’s fine, no
thanks to you,” I accuse him.

“What the fuck’s
that supposed to mean?” he snarls.

“Found out you’re
acquainted with Diego Sanchez. That’s he’s the father to your
sister’s baby. And you both have been in trouble with the
law—involving the sale of illegal weapons. Gonna take you into the
station, get this shit sorted,” I inform him as I walk over toward
him with my cuffs in hand.

“Where the fuck did
you get that information?” he asks, angrily.

“Doesn’t fucking
matter,” I hiss at him.

“Sure as fuck does,
when it’s bullshit. I’m clean, never been in trouble with the law
before. Haven’t even gotten a parking ticket. As for having a
sister, I’m one of four boys in the family. So, like I asked you
before, where’d you get your fucking information?” he barks out.

“He’s telling the
truth,” Bianca backs him. She walks over to a built-in bookshelf and
grabs a photo album, bringing it over to me. I flip through page
after page of family photos with Juan and his family over the past
twenty years or so. No signs of a sister in any of them. The hair on
the back of my neck stands on end.

Devon Ryan. My fucking
partner. The guy that’s been trying to convince me that Payton’s
been involved with this shit the whole fucking time. Why would he
give me false information?

Jesus Christ! He’s the fifth.

I’m downstairs in the
kitchen, standing at the island pouring myself a bowl of cereal, and
at the same time, having a conversation with the adorable Officer
Langston. Of course, because I’m not paying attention to what I’m
doing, my bowl overflows and Cheerios spill out on the counter and
the floor.

“Shit!” Oh well, no
point in crying over spilt cereal, right? I look around for a blasted
broom, but can’t find it anywhere. I make a mental note to ask Jack
where he keeps it stashed. I remember packing up my little hand-held
vacuum before I moved, and it’s still in a box upstairs in the
closet.

“Be right back,” I
tell my bodyguard before running up the stairs to the bedroom. I
locate the box shoved into the far right corner of the closet. Upon
opening the box, I immediately see the vacuum right on top of
everything else. As I take it out, I can’t help but notice the
canister’s full, so I head into the bathroom to empty it. When I
pull it apart to dump the contents I hear a clanging sound as
something heavier than dirt drops into the trashcan.

I lower my head to see what it is,
and that’s when I notice the silver USB jump drive. I recall the
last time I used it and then remember it was in my car. Holy shit!
That’s what those assholes were after! I’ve got to call Jack to
let him know, and I’ve got to get downstairs to my laptop to check
out what’s on this blasted thing. I reach for my phone on top of
the dresser and call Jack’s cell.

Before I left Juan’s
I tried calling Payton, but it went to voice mail. Now as I race
toward our condo, I tag my phone from my front pocket, ready to call
her again, but my phone starts ringing. It’s Payton.

I pick up and say,
“Baby, listen to me. Don’t let …”

Before I can finish
warning her about Devon, she says to me in an excited tone, “I
found the USB, Jack. I’m just going to run downstairs and see …
what the fuck?” Then I hear a gunshot, and the phone goes dead.

Oh shit! Jesus, no! Do
not let this be happening again. I increase my speed knowing I’m
approximately a minute away from her. Please don’t be too late. If
anything’s happened to Payton, I’m going to be spending the rest
of my life in prison because I’m going to kill that fucking
bastard. Partner or not! As I’m driving toward home, I call
Payton’s cell and get nothing but voicemail again. Fuck!

I call it into the
station, requesting back up. Even though I know I’ll get there
before them, I won’t be waiting. I’m barging in there with my gun
loaded and the motherfucking safety off.

I pull into the lot of
our condo, not bothering with the parking garage—wastes too much
time. I burst out of the car, leaving the door wide open and run as
fast as I can toward the building. I press the elevator button …
nothing happens. Panic starts to build. Fuck it, I’m taking the
stairs. I fly up the stairway, taking the steps three at a time. When
I get to the top, my heart’s pumping wildly in my chest, and my
head’s pounding. Fucking shit! Before entering the apartment I take
a quick look at the ceiling and close my eyes. If there’s a God,
please let me not be too late!

I open my eyes, pull in
a deep breath, and open the door to our home.

The scene before me
brings me up solid—ice flowing through my veins.

Langston’s lying dead
in a pool of blood on the living room floor, with his gun in hand,
and a bullet to the head. From behind the stairs walks my girl
looking scared out of her ever-loving mind, with the barrel of a gun
pressed to her temple. Next, walks the man holding that gun, wearing
a malicious grin on his face, and my stomach lurches. His free arm
snakes around Payton’s waist as he uses her body as a shield. My
hands are shaking, but they both steady as I raise my sidearm and
take aim at the head of the man that I trusted with my life.

“Just tell my why.
Why you’re fucking standing there with a motherfucking gun pointed
at the woman that I love? Because this shit’s not making any
sense.” I direct at the piece of shit holding my future in his
hands.

“Not only does this bitch have the
USB containing the password to the storage unit holding my guns,
which, by the way, is going to make me a very rich man, but she also
holds the evidence that can put me in prison for the rest of my life.
Diego got greedy, tried to blackmail me into giving him more money
for the guns. I ended that little shit. In case you haven’t figured
it out by now Jacky-boy, I’m a dirty cop,” he hisses between his
teeth and presses the gun against Payton’s temple harder, causing
her to whimper. I can’t take my eyes away from this bastard. If I
miss something, it could mean the end for Payton, and then not long
after, it’ll be the end for him … and then me.

I can’t believe this
is happening right now. My eyes are squeezed shut as I feel the cool
metal of the revolver pressed against my head. I can still smell the
gunpowder odor lingering from where he shot Officer Langston at point
blank range.

“Is Devon involved
with this shit, too?” Jack inquires.

“No, I’ve been
feeding him wrong information. He knows nothing.” D.W. answers.

“How long?” Jack
asks.

“How long have I been
dirty? Since you were in diapers, boy. I’m doing all right now, but
when your father and I first started out, the pay was shit. One day
during patrol, I stumbled across something I shouldn’t have and was
paid a considerable amount to look the other way. I realized then I
could be rolling in it and, before long, I wasn’t only covering
things for asshole criminals, I started my own endeavors, and I was
doing pretty well for myself.”

“Shit!” Jack
hisses.

“You sure you want to
hear the whole story,
son
?” he asks.

“Don’t fucking call
me that!” Jack snaps at him, his jaw clenching.

“Your father was much
the same as you are—protective and loyal to a fault. He was born to
be a policeman and loved every underpaid minute of it. He was also
smart like you; too smart. He sensed there was something wrong, and
one day tailed me to a weapons deal. He threatened me with going to
our Captain, but I laughed at him because he didn’t have any proof.
The last words I ever heard from my partner’s mouth was ‘I’ll
get the damn proof.’ And I knew he would. As much as I didn’t
want to, I had to end him. The next day, he was gunned down by gang
members in his driveway in front of his only son,” he confesses.

“You were his
partner, his ‘brother’… he fucking trusted you!” Jack shouts,
his eyes glassy from the pain of hearing how the man he thought of as
another father figure betrayed his father.

“He was, and honest
to God, I didn’t want to do it, but if I let him go, he’d turn on
me. I wouldn’t make it in prison,” he says softly.

“You can end this
now. You’re not going to hurt her. Let Payton go,” he pleads, but
I can tell by the grip on my waist that D.W. has no intentions of
doing that.

“Still don’t get it
do you, son? I’m in too deep now, and there’s no fucking way I’m
going to prison, which is exactly what’s going to happen if I let
her go. And you’re wrong if you think I won’t hurt her. It didn’t
stop me from killing your precious Julie when you were sticking your
nose where it didn’t belong. I needed to do something to keep you
from looking too deeply. It was supposed to be you—did you know
that? So don’t think for a fucking second that I won’t hesitate
to put a bullet in her brain,” he says, taunting Jack. “Now,
lower your fucking gun!”

I watch in disbelief as Jack lowers
his weapon. This cocksucking motherfucker is going down, and I know
just what to do.

I can’t believe he
had my family, and the whole fucking police force, me included,
fooled. My heart’s heavy and my stomach’s in knots with the
knowledge of all this man has robbed from me.

My hand’s shaking
against my hip, and I feel like I’m going to lose grip on my gun.
My eyes slide over to Payton’s for the first time since seeing D.W.
As our gazes lock onto each other’s, her eyes no longer hold fear
in them, but absolute trust, and she only verifies this for me when
she softly says, “I trust you, Jack.”