Undercover

Copyright © 2011 Christina Wolfer

Cover art design by Christina Wolfer

Digital ISBN: 9781466092822

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author's imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental.

Dedication

William Moore

Tony Isaacs

Acknowledgments

To God – for the many blessings.

A big thank you to Kim Jacobs for the continued support and your

willingness to share your knowledge of the publishing industry.

To Calisa, Clancy and Joelene - thank you for your insight and wisdom. Each of you brought something different. Your time and efforts are greatly appreciated. Your friendship invaluable.

Other Books

by Christina Wolfer

All Bets Are On!

Two Brothers

Coming January 2012

The Daughter

Excerpts from
Two Brothers
and
The Daughter
are

available at the back of this book.

At twenty-nine, police officer Erica Salinas is determined to eliminate as many gangs as she can from the streets of Chicago. When she's offered an opportunity to go undercover as a student at an inner city high school to stop the drugs trafficking its halls, she jumps at the chance. It doesn't take long for her to identify the two gangs ruling the school or to be offered drugs, but she isn't satisfied with runners. She wants the dealer and the supplier.

She befriends a boy who has connections with one of the gangs, hoping to get closer to her goal. Instead, she finds herself getting attached to the kid and falling in love with his older brother, Derrick.

Erica knows she is putting the case at risk by getting too involved. And when she spots a gang allegiance tattoo on Derrick's wrist, she’ll have to decide if her career and avenging her sisters death is more important than love.

UNDERCOVER

Derrick Moreno stepped from the shower, a billow of steam followed him out of the glass enclosure to fill the room. He heard the screen door slam down the hall and the muffled sound of voices, and he knew Joey was home.
An hour late, the little shit
. The third time this week and Derrick knew he had to put a stop to the behavior.

He grabbed a towel from the rack to wrap around his waist and in the process knocked his elbow against the sink. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he eked out between clenched teeth, rubbing the injured not-so-funny bone. And thought for the millionth time about tearing out a wall and making the damn room bigger. But who had the time or the money?

Work took up most of his waking hours and Joey's college fund received the bulk of his money. He pushed the hint of resentment aside and focused his thoughts on his little brother.

He was a good kid but opportunity to find trouble lurked around every corner. Derrick worried about the possibilities everyday, partly because he'd dabbled in a bit of trouble himself when he was Joey's age. The majority of residents living on the west side of Chicago were Hispanic and poor. They relied on low-income housing and food stamps. Drugs were the norm. What wasn't there to worry about?

When Joey was younger, Derrick kept close tabs on his activities and talked with the teachers often to make sure Joey's grades didn’t slip. His efforts were paying off. Derrick trusted Joey, as much as you could a seventeen-year-old, and knew the kid had a good head on his shoulders, but the sudden disregard for his school night curfew was worrisome. Joey had never pushed at the rules before.

Derrick had come too far to let it slip away from him now. Joey would graduate from high school this year, go off to college in the fall and have a shot of getting out of this neighborhood. Derrick had given up too much, given up his own dreams, to make sure Joey had a chance at a better life.

Derrick ran a towel over his damp hair, tossed it toward the overflowing hamper, and stepped into the hallway. “Damn it, Joey…”

He stopped cold, the words lodged in his throat at the sight greeting him. A woman stood in the hall between the living room and the kitchen. The small confines of the house made her impossible to miss but he would have noticed her across a crowded room.

She was stunning with big brown eyes and a mass of dark auburn hair caught on top her head in a messy ponytail from which ringlets broke free to frame her delicate face. Her skin shimmered with a radiant golden hue. The blue jean mini skirt and strappy sandals she wore highlighted her long sun kissed legs. The sweet scent of vanilla reached out to him. The late August sun slanted through the screen door behind her adding the illusion of a halo. Had he died, managed to get directions to heaven, and she was his personal angel?

His body tightened.

Joey made a noise to his right, but Derrick didn’t pull his eyes from the beautiful aberration before him. Angels didn’t have to be blonde, right? Because there was no doubt in his mind, God had taken extra care when creating the woman before him. Derrick only hoped she’d been created for him.

“Hey, 'numb nuts',” Joey said loud and slow, laughter edging his voice as he leaned through the island separating the kitchen and front room. “Play nice and say hi to Erica.”

Erica? He’d heard the name before. Erica.
Holy shit
.
The
Erica
. The new girl at school. The one Joey had been gushing about for the past three weeks.

Derrick felt heat blush over his body and into his face. She wasn’t old enough to be his personal angel and his body had no business reacting this way to the sight of her.

He remembered to close his mouth and said, “Hello.” He stepped forward and held out his hand, surprised when she gripped it firmly instead of the limp
I don’t give a shit
handshake most kids gave.

Her eyes traveled down the length of him and back up, flashing a devilish tit-for-tat smile before letting go of his hand and giving a throaty, “hello.”

His skin flushed again with embarrassment, but he figured he deserved that.

He clamped his mouth shut again, wondering when the hell his jaws had gotten so lax.

She glanced away, brushing him off as if bored.

Had he said hello?

“Joey, I need to get going,” Erica said. Dropping her chin, her long lashes brushed the fragile skin below her brown eyes before sweeping up and pinning Derrick with a steady stare, leaving him feeling naked.

His stomach clenched at the realization that he
was
naked with nothing more than a thin towel wrapped around his waist. He rejected the urge to cross his arms in front of himself.  

Joey came out of the kitchen and handed Erica a Coke.

She turned for the door. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Moreno,” she threw over her shoulder.

Mr. Moreno? Jeez, he wasn't that old.

Joey glanced back at Derrick with a wiggle of his brows and then walked Erica out, his hand placed on the small of her back.

Where had the kid learned a chivalrous move like that?

Derrick stood there trying to process his reaction to the girl
.

When Joey strolled back through the door, he beamed a knowing smile at Derrick. “Something, ain’t she?”

Derrick moved now, following him into the kitchen. “Are you sure she’s only seventeen?”

Joey laughed. “I told you she’s pretty.”

Was the kid crazy? Pretty didn’t come close to describing her. “Are you… you know.” Derrick didn’t know how to ask and wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Tapping that?” Joey supplied. “No, but I’m working on it.”

Jealousy warred with brotherly love, so he kept his response simple. “Just be careful.”

“Oh, no worries. I keep a condom with me at all times.”

That wasn't what Derrick meant. His concern was that Joey would end up with a broken heart. A girl like Erica would eat him alive.

****

Erica hated lunchtime. The food was terrible, but the atmosphere of the school cafeteria is what got under her skin. Lunchtime had more to do with social status then nutrition. Girls strutted up and down the center aisle as if it were a stripper stage tryout. Their only interest in which boy's eye they could catch or which girls they pissed off.

Erica scanned the crowd for Joey, but he wasn’t there.
Damn him
. His request to meet for lunch was the only reason she would subject herself to the scrutiny of the other kids by standing at the end of the food line looking for somewhere to sit. Carrying the dingy yellow tray, she made her way to an empty table, taking a seat so she had a view of the doorway and the room. The bitter smell of day old wet rag lingered on the table, stealing her appetite.

She tuned out the noise to a low hum of chatter. She’d been at Fairmont High for three weeks and had yet to make friends with any of the girls. In grade school, she’d been shy, so making friends had never come easy for her. When she sprouted to five-seven and blossomed to a C cup her freshman year, the situation worsened. Other girls avoided her like the plague. Her mother said the girls were jealous but for a teenager the reasons why didn’t matter. It hurt all the same.

But boys had always liked her and even now, she got along better with men. She found them much more forgiving than women.

Again, Erica scanned the room for Joey, thinking she might have missed him. His outgoing personality gave him friends on all sides of the cafeteria. He mingled with the hoods, the popular crowd and the nerds. His connections the very reason she identified him as one to keep her eye on. She hadn't planned on become his friend, but he’d gone out of his way to welcome her. He would sit by her in their mutual classes and be the first to strike up conversation. She'd found him hard to resist. Within a week, she ruled him out as a drug dealer but figured him for a tout, one who could introduce her to the main dealer in the school.

Erica stuck a French fry in her mouth and at the same time spotted three girls heading her direction. With a sigh, she picked up another fry and took a bite.

LeAnn, Deidra and Haley were the type of girls you were friends with or enemies, and they decided which category you fit in. Erica had done all she could to stay under their radar, but here they came, anyway.

LeAnn, with her knee high, lace up black combat boots and orange stripped shirt, looked to be dressed for Halloween. All three girls wore black. Black stockings, black finger nail polish and thick liner.

Erica dropped what remained of her fry onto the plate. Why, she wondered, were they gunning for her? What had she done to get their attention?