She stared into his eyes for so long, he knew her answer, but he waited to see if she’d tell him.
“Three times.” A shadow fell over her eyes. “Some things from our past need to stay there and some things are better left unsaid.” The fear and the fury in her eyes dissipated.
She’d been through hell, then he’d tossed her to the curb.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said.
“Only time will tell.” Then, she shot him a little smile. “But… if I were betting on us, I’d say we’ll go the distance.”
“Iambetting on us, because I know we will.”
They came together in a tender kiss, interrupted by the bing of an incoming email.
The license plate inquiry had a match. They grew quiet while they read the results.
“Whoa,” she blurted.
“No fucking way,” he said.
Slash
While Slash’sclosest friends were having a blast at Danielle and Cooper’s dress rehearsal, she was suiting up alone in ALPHA’s locker room. On went her combat shoes, her body armor, her gun belt. After tucking her Glock into the holster, she left.
She couldn’t wait to make the arrest.
She’d been so fired up about it, she hadn’t slept much. Turned out, that had worked to her advantage. Carrera had kept her well entertained half the night.
That man has got it going on.
She spent the day coordinating logistics with FBI SWAT Team lead Neil Eggleston and Arlington County’s Police Detective Rosario. With their plan in place, they agreed to meet at ten o’clock.
Once at Blue Suit, she called them both. Neil’s SWAT teams and the vans were two minutes out. Detective Rosario had just parked.
When SWAT pulled in, two vans drove out back, two parked at the entrance. Slash exited her SUV, but she didn’t pull her weapon from its holster. Guns in a nightclub were a last resort. She had every confidence the men in SWAT gear were a menacing enough sight that no weapons would be needed.
Slash met Eggleston and Rosario at the front door.
“Let’s get this done,” she said.
The three, backed by SWAT personnel, marched into the main room of the club. The place fell eerily silent, all eyes on the formidable group of LEOs who made their way through the crowd. She said nothing, made eye contact with no one. A group of members beelined toward the exit. She let them go, her focus on arresting one woman and her illicit customers. The SWAT teams would arrest everyone in the playroom, then escort them into the waiting vans.
With Carrera’s access card in hand, Slash stopped in front of the Management Only door, swiped the card, the light turned green, and they stormed in.
Like any Friday night, the room was filled with nude and semi-nude clubbers having their hedonistic fun with the dancers and other members.
“FBI!” she yelled. “Everybody down on your knees with your hands up!”
As soon as the SWAT team dispersed to make their arrests, Slash led Rosario and Eggleston to Karen’s office. Excitement pounded through her. She could not wait to take this woman down.
Knock-knock.
Karen opened the door, her gaze jumping from Slash to Rosario to Eggleston. Her face went ashen white while her beady eyes shot daggers into Slash.
“You motherfucking bitch!” Karen started to shut the door, but Slash stopped it with her foot, then bulled her way inside.
“Karen Woodside, you’re under arrest for racketeering, specifically taking money in exchange for sex between members and dancers,” Slash said. “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?”
“Fuck you,” Karen bit out.
