Savior (An Impossible Novel) Read online

  The truth was, I was at a loss for words for the first time in my life.

  Chapter 3

  I had been sitting in the uncomfortable metal chair in the grey-walled FBI interrogation room for what seemed like an eternity. My hands alternatively twisted in my lap and balled into fists as worry for Greg warred with my anger at Clayton. Why did he have to turn out to be such a bastard? I had almost convinced myself that he was a genuinely good guy. But apparently he was a cold douchebag who could fuck a girl senseless one minute and then tear her life apart the next.

  I was going to lose everything: my job, my brother, and probably my freedom. What was the penalty for “assaulting a federal agent”? My actions had been rash and stupid. If I had just kept my cool, I might have been able to sway Clayton. But my temper had gotten the better of me, and I hadn’t been able to hold back.

  I only wish I had actually inflicted some damage, I thought resentfully. He had hardly blinked when I slapped him. I had enjoyed how helpless I had felt in his strong arms, but now I was considering taking up weightlifting. They had gyms in prison, didn’t they? I didn’t want to be weak; I wanted to be strong enough to hurt Clayton like he was hurting me. But that would only land me in deeper shit.

  Still, it took effort to stop myself from lunging at him when he finally entered the room. All of my muscles coiled and my fingernails bit into my palms.

  “I want my lawyer,” I snapped. No way was I going to talk to him without someone there to look out for my interests. And maybe they could even help me figure out a way to get Greg off the hook.

  Clayton sighed heavily when he sat down across from me. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table between us as he studied me carefully.

  “You don’t need a lawyer,” he told me simply.

  “You told me I could have a lawyer,” I insisted. “That’s my right. I’m not talking to you without one here.”

  When he spoke, his tone was low and calm. The richness of it threatened to wrap around me like a warm embrace, but I shoved the sensation away. “You don’t need a lawyer because you’re not under arrest,” he explained. “I arrested Mary Baker. I read Mary her Miranda Rights. Rose Baker was never actually arrested.” He gave me a small smile. “I got you off on a technicality.”

  “You got me off?” I said angrily. “You’re the one who arrested me in the first place! Am I supposed to be grateful towards you after you treated me like a criminal?”

  His smile was gone instantly, and his eyes narrowed. A part of me hated that I had wiped that smile away, but the fierceness of his harsh expression made something delicious stir to life at my core. It was a sensation I tried my best to ignore.

  “I didn’t expect your gratitude. But I was hoping for a hint of remorse. Do you want to tell me what possessed you to slap an FBI agent? To aid a wanted criminal?”

  “I slapped you because you deserved it,” I said staunchly. “And my brother isn’t a criminal.”

  His expression softened, and the kindness in his eyes almost penetrated my righteous anger. Almost.

  “I’m sorry things turned out this way, Rose. It’s not what I wanted.” His tone was regretful, but he was spearing me with a level look. “But your brother is a criminal.”

  “He’s just an addict,” I said desperately. “I know buying heroin is illegal, but he just needs help. He needs to go to rehab, not prison.”

  I thought I saw a hint of sadness in the depths of his blue eyes, but he continued to regard me seriously. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Rose, but Greg has been working for the Latin Kings for more than a month now.”

  Clayton’s words hit me like a blow to the gut. I shook my head vigorously. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

  “You’re wrong,” I insisted.

  “How do you think Greg affords his habit?” Clayton asked pointedly.

  I had been wondering that myself. And then someone had beaten him up today. Who would have done that? Why would anyone do that to Greg?

  “The Kings are recruiting, Rose,” Clayton continued ruthlessly. “Your brother owed them money, and he was desperate for more heroin. He’s been selling for them in order to pay for his habit.”

  I shook my head again. “Greg wouldn’t do that.”

  “Your brother might be a good person, Rose. But addiction can drive good people to do bad things.”

  Greg didn’t have any money. And I hadn’t given him any. What Clayton was saying made sense. And I hated him for it. I fixed my eyes on a spot just over his shoulder, refusing to look at him any longer.

  “I’d like to leave now,” I said coldly.

  “I’m afraid I need to ask you a few more questions, Rose.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Well I’m not going to talk to you,” I snapped. A part of me knew I was acting childish, but I couldn’t bear to be near him any longer. And if I couldn’t leave, then he was going to have to.

  “Okay, Rose. I understand.”

  And damn it if he didn’t sound like he understood. I would have almost preferred it if he had acted like an asshole. That would have made it easier to hold onto my anger. If I let it go, I knew grief would overwhelm me. And I wasn’t going to break down. Not when Greg needed me.

  I refused to watch him leave, but out of the corner of my eye I saw his female partner enter the room as he left it. The woman’s expression was cool and professional when she sat down in Clayton’s vacated seat. She looked competent and controlled in her neatly tailored white button-down shirt and black pinstriped slacks. I scowled at her.

  “I’m Agent Silverman,” she began.

  “I know who you are,” I snapped.

  “But you can call me Sharon,” she continued on over me as though I hadn’t spoken.

  Like hell I would. Were we supposed to be friends? Did she really think she was going to have a girl-to-girl chat with me? This bitch had arrested Greg and hardly spared me a second glance when Clayton had arrested me.

  “What do you want, Agent Silverman?” I emphasized her official title, letting her know I wasn’t up for chitchat. Although I knew answering her questions was necessary in order to get out of there, that didn’t mean I had to play nice. This was an interrogation, not a cocktail party. And I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

  Despite my caustic tone, she appeared unruffled. “Okay,” she said coolly. “I get it. I’ll cut to the chase.” She looked at me levelly. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but Clayton was telling the truth: your brother is involved with the Latin Kings.”

  The calmness with which she confirmed this horrific news infuriated me. But this time I didn’t deny it; the evidence was stacked against Greg. Still, I needed more proof before I was prepared to believe the worst.

  “How do you know?” I demanded. “What do you have on him?”

  “I can’t tell you everything, but I won’t lie to you,” she promised solemnly. “We received a tip that Greg had been dealing for the Kings, so we’ve been watching him. There is photographic evidence. I can show it to you if you need to see it.”

  I didn’t want to see it. But I needed to. I had to know for sure. My nod was jerky, my movements reluctant. Agent Silverman flicked open the manila folder that she had been holding and slid it across the table so I could see its contents. A series of photos were paper-clipped to it, and I pulled them free with shaking hands, spreading them out before me. My heart twisted at the images: Greg being discretely passed something by a hard-looking Latino guy who was covered in tattoos; Greg handing off a small package to a woman who looked like she was wasting away, her eyes wild; and the same Latino guy shoving Greg up against a brick wall, clearly threatening him. Was this the man who had hurt him earlier today? Was my baby brother truly so far gone that he would do terrible things and willingly take a beating just to get his next fix?

  I felt sick; I could taste the burning tang of bile in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard and shoved the photos away from me, disgusted and heart
broken. My entire life revolved around protecting my brother as best I could. But I had failed. I had let him down.

  “How long? How long has this been going on?” I asked quietly.

  When I glanced up at Agent Silverman, I noticed her eyes had softened, her professional manner slipping. Maybe she wasn’t such a cold bitch after all.

  “About five weeks to our knowledge,” she answered gently. “Listen, Rose. We know that Greg has been coerced into this. The Kings are ruthless, and it’s obvious that they have threatened him and manipulated him into working for them.”

  I just shook my head, defeated. “I should have given him money.” I hated the way my voice broke. “I just wanted to help him, to make him stop. But I couldn’t stand seeing him in pain when he went through withdrawal. So I ignored the problem; I didn’t question where he was getting the drugs.” I hung my head in shame. “He should be in rehab. But I’m an enabler. I should have been harder on him, should have done the right thing. I just couldn’t bear the thought of him hating me if I betrayed him like that.”

  Agent Silverman – Sharon – reached out and placed her hand over my clenched fist, squeezing gently. “I can understand that.”

  I glanced up at her, disbelieving. I was shocked to see nothing but sincerity in her rich brown eyes, and there was a hint of pain in her tightened features that convinced me she truly did understand.

  My fingers unfurled, some of the tension leaving me. “Thanks,” I said shakily, accepting her comfort. The sensation was completely unfamiliar. No one had ever treated me like this. Certainly not my mother. And my friends didn’t know me on a deep enough level to know that I needed this. The bond I shared with Greg was the closest thing I had ever known to this feeling, but I was always the one supporting him, protecting him. And our lucid interactions had been few and far between over the last year since his addiction had claimed him. I hadn’t allowed myself to fully realize how much I had missed him. It would have hurt too much. But now the pain of my loss crashed down on me, and I couldn’t hold back the tears. Even worse, I was going to lose him completely; the FBI were going to lock him up, were going to take him away from me. As destructive as our relationship was, Greg was my whole life, and I didn’t know how to function without him.

  Sharon let me cry, and the sobs that wracked through me were almost painful. I wasn’t sure if it was from the heaving of my lungs or the ache in my heart. Eventually, I pulled myself together. I had to convince Sharon to help Greg.

  “What can I do?” I asked, my voice wavering as I blinked hard to clear my vision. “How can I help him? Please don’t lock him up. You said yourself he’s being coerced. He doesn’t deserve to go to jail for that.”

  Sharon looked a little uncomfortable now. “We’re willing to cut him a deal,” she admitted slowly. “The Kings are ruthlessly expanding into new territories, and they are becoming more violent. It’s more than we can handle. There are too many people like your brother who are being victimized and forced into helping them. But Greg can help us stop this. He can vindicate himself.”

  “How?” Hope bloomed in my chest.

  She watched me carefully as she spoke. “We need him to spy on the Kings, to pass us information about who is involved and where they meet. We need names and concrete evidence in order to bring them down.”

  I shook my head forcefully. “No. They’ll hurt him if they find out. I can’t let you put him in danger like that.”

  Sharon’s expression hardened. “He won’t be any safer in jail. There are members of the Kings who are currently incarcerated. They’ll kill him to keep him from talking. They know he owes them no loyalty, but they’re willing to serve more time for murder in order to protect their friends. The Kings have tightly-knit communities, and they would rather die than take on the shame of betraying their friends. Even if they were willing to give evidence against their compatriots, they know they wouldn’t survive long enough to go to trial to give evidence. We need people like Greg, good people who are just victims of circumstance. We will let him walk free if he’s willing to work with us. And we’ll keep a surveillance team on him at all times. At the first hint of danger, we’ll pull him out. I won’t allow him to come to any harm.”

  What she was saying made sense. I hated the idea of putting him in the line of fire, but it truly did sound like he would be safer with the FBI watching him at all times than he would be in prison.

  “But if he keeps working with them, he’ll keep using,” I pointed out.

  Sharon looked sad again, regretful. “We can’t stop him if he chooses that. Maybe you can talk to him. If he agrees, we can put him through rehab before he does this. But if he refuses, I promise you we’ll get him clean as soon as we get the information we need. Whether he wants to or not. We can get a court order.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded my agreement. “I’ll do what I can,” I promised. “And I’ll convince him to help you. It’s the only chance he has. I have to keep him safe, even if he hates me for it.”

  Sharon squeezed my hand again. “Thank you for understanding. This really is the best way.”

  “I know,” I admitted. Now that it had been decided, I was anxious to get on with it as soon as possible. “Where is Greg? I need to talk to him.”

  “We’ll send him home to you when he gets out of the hospital. He’ll feel safer there and you’ll have a better chance of convincing him. But I’m afraid I’ll have to send someone with you in order to make sure he does choose to cooperate. And to protect both of you.”

  “Why would I need protecting? I’m not involved.”

  “I’m afraid you are,” Sharon said evenly. “The Kings might not know about you, but we can’t take the chance that they do. They might use you to get to Greg if they find out what he’s doing. We can’t take that risk.”

  Fear clenched my gut. I hadn’t thought of that. But I would do what I had to in order to help my brother, even if it did mean having some annoying FBI agent breathing down my neck.

  Sharon shifted slightly in her chair, looking uncomfortable again. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you and Clayton, but I feel I should warn you that he’s been assigned to your case.”

  “What?!” My voice was a few octaves higher than I would have liked.

  “You can always refuse, but he was rather, ah, insistent about maintaining the assignment.” She rolled her eyes. “To be honest, even if you do refuse, I’m pretty sure you’ll need a restraining order to get him to back down. And he’s not afraid to use underhanded tactics to get his way. The liberties Homeland Security grants us can be a bitch sometimes. Believe me, it will be much easier to save yourself the hassle.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and cursed under my breath. “Asshole.”

  I had thought I liked his controlling side, but it seemed I had made a major mistake in coaxing it out of him.

  Sharon shot me a small smile. “I couldn’t agree more. But when he gets like this he doesn’t really let anything get in his way. He can be very… tenacious when he wants to be. It’s part of what makes him such a good agent. It’s also what makes him a total ass sometimes.”

  Just then, the door opened and Clayton entered, a scowl plastered on his face. “Thanks for the glowing assessment of my character. You know I can hear everything out there.”

  Sharon just looked at him coolly. “I know.”

  I smiled at her, and she winked at me. Okay, so maybe she was winning me over.

  Clayton was glaring at me. “I’m taking you home now.”

  “Fine,” I said snappishly. “But I’ll have you know that I don’t appreciate the imperious tone.”

  He said nothing, but the roguish smile that spread across his face told me he knew very well that I did enjoy his imperious tone. Damn it, why the hell had I ever slept with the bastard? He knew far too much about me for my liking. And I most certainly didn’t like the heat that flared in my belly at the sight of his knowing smirk. I didn’t.

  I was still
pissed while Clayton was driving me home. At least I got to ride in the front seat this time, and I wasn’t wearing handcuffs. That was so not the scenario I might have fantasized about involving Clayton and bondage.

  Not that I was going to fantasize about him. I wasn’t. Not only was he a heartless bastard, but it would be foolish of me to revisit the memories of our scorching hot night together. Unfortunately, my body wasn’t exactly cooperating with my mind. The sexual tension that filled the small space of the car was almost stifling. His cocky air was maddening in an infuriatingly sexy way; he knew he had me backed into a corner, and he was in complete control of the situation. It was clear he was enjoying my predicament far too much for my taste. I was again struck by the realization that he was messing with my usual M.O. Although I was sexually submissive, I never truly lost control. I used my looks and my body to lure in my targets, my conquests. But now Clayton was taking the reins. It seemed he was going to get his way no matter what my wishes were. The thought pissed me off and unsettled me. And it got me hot for him. This new feeling of helplessness, of captivity, was darkly thrilling. I liked to push things to the edge sexually, to find my sweet release in extremes. And Clayton was definitely one of the most extreme things I had ever experienced. He wasn’t going to let me get my way, and although a part of me railed against the idea, my lustful side reveled in exploring this new territory. How far would he push me? I longed to find out. I didn’t have to like him, but I could certainly use him. If he was determined to stay close to me, then I would keep him close to my body.

  With that resolution, I found myself almost eager to get back to my apartment where we could be alone. I had seduced him once before. How hard could it be to do it again? Judging by the hungry glances he was shooting my way, it wouldn’t be too difficult. I kept my silence, deciding to play coy. Hopefully that would draw out his aggression.

  But my lust was deflated like a popped balloon when we entered my apartment. Greg was home, and he was sober. Even though I was deeply disturbed by the situation he had gotten us into, I couldn’t help feeling overjoyed at seeing him as his true self. It was a rare sight. I left Clayton’s side in a heartbeat, launching myself at my little brother and grabbing him up in a tight embrace.