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“You look like you lost your best friend. Want me to buy you a beer to cry in?”

“Fuck you,” I tell him, not looking up from my whiskey. “You’re traveling late, Marcum.”

“I got a call from this bastard in Miami. Sounded serious, so I thought I’d come see him.”

“Dangerous, in your line of work.”

“Life’s fucking boring without a little danger,” Marcum says. I turn to look at him. He hasn’t changed much. A little gray around the edges, a few more scars, He’s got long hair that he has pulled back in a clasp at the back of his neck right now. He’s wearing jeans, his leather club cut, and cowboy boots. I respect the man. We might be different as night and day on the outside, but on the inside where it counts, we could be fucking twins.

“How’s the fifteen kids?” I ask him, and he gives me the one finger salute. If you can say anything about Marcum, it’s that he’s a fertile son of a bitch. He has so many kids, he could populate a small country with nothing but his offspring.

“Eight, asshole. And not bad. Even got a grandkid now. Max’s woman Tess had a little girl. Prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Hard to picture you as a grandfather,” I tell him honestly.

“I’m fucking awesome at it. Hell, should have tried it sooner. Lot easier than your own kids, that’s for fuck sure.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I tell him, taking a drink of my whiskey.

“That job you wanted, that’s not going to be easy, asshole. That fucker has connections,” Marcum

says, switching to business quickly, which is just as well since I’m not really in the fucking mood for small talk.

“I’m not paying for easy. While we’re on the subject, I have another problem that needs to be dealt with.”

“Jesus, you’re a needy fucker all at once. What brought on all this shit?”

“A woman,” I growl, pouring more whiskey into my glass.

“Say no more. Jesus, brother. Shouldn’t you have learned from my mistakes?”

“She’s a good one, Marcum. She just comes with a fucking load of baggage.”

“Don’t they all,” he sighs.

“Trouble with Cherry?” I ask him, mentioning his latest squeeze. He’s kept this one the longest and she seems to care about him, but then what the fuck do I know about anything.

“Cherry left.”

“What the fuck for?”

“Now that’s the question. Unfortunately, it’s a question I have no fucking answer for.”

“Life would be fucking simpler if you could just keep them tied to the bed all the time,” I growl, draining the last of my drink.

Marcum stands up and slaps me on the back with a laugh. “Amen, brother. Amen. I got your order in. Get Bruno to send me the particulars on your add-on.”

“Will do. Where you headed?”

“Anywhere my dick takes me, brother. Anywhere my dick takes me.”

I shake my head and let him go. I’d like to think he’s a miserable fuck, but the truth is, I’m being led by my dick too, and at least Marcum’s will have a warm place to spend the night. Thoughts of Ana in our room covering her body from me with tears running down her face flash through my head.

Fuck.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Ana

I pull myself out of bed. I think I’m still in shock and I didn’t sleep at all last night. Mostly, I lay in bed reliving the confrontation with Roman. I thought I was prepared. I mean the DEA doesn’t send you undercover for nothing. I knew all along there was a chance that Roman did in fact have Allen, but after meeting him and the way we became with each other, it just didn’t seem to fit. How can someone be so good to you, be sweet and loving, and all the while be holding your brother to use against you—or worse, holding him to kill him? What does it say about me that I slept with this man?

God, what does it say about me that I miss him even now?

My emotions are all over the place and I can’t seem to get them in order. My mind keeps going back to the hostility between Paul and Roman. There’s more there than I know, much more than Paul will ever tell me. The man he makes Roman out to be, the man in the file the DEA has is not the man I’ve come to love—sorry, to care about.

Roman has always treated me like I mattered. Then again, how well do I know him? I jumped in head first, led by a quest to learn more about my brother—and by hormones. Definitely by hormones. I need to see Allen. If I can see him, then maybe things will seem clearer.

It takes me a few minutes to get dressed, brush my teeth, and look like I haven’t lain awake all night crying. I’m not sure I fully succeed. By the time I’ve finished, Roman still hasn’t shown. For all I know, he could still be gone. The thought of him spending the night somewhere else hurts me. Not because I think he went to another woman, it’s just… I want him with me. Even now. God, I am messed up.

I walk through to the main room. Roman is sitting on the sofa, his clothes wrinkled, his hair a mess, and there’s an afghan thrown over the sofa as if he slept there. It’s stupid, but thinking that he has, somehow makes me feel better.

He looks up at me when I stop by the sofa. There’s a look in his dark eyes… a heated look, and I fight against its pull.

“Have you decided, Ana?”

“I want to see Allen.”

“I can arrange that, after I have your word that you’ll stay.”

“This is crazy. Do you realize you’re blackmailing me into—”

“Call it what you want. Your word. I want your word.”

“Fine. I’ll stay,” I tell him, my stomach churning. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I do know I have to stay either way… for now.

“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the contract.”

“Contract?” I ask, confused.

“You don’t think I’m going to take you at your word, do you, Ana?”

“Roman, I don’t have a law degree, but I’m pretty sure contracts built on blackmail are useless.”

“You’d be surprised what money can do.”

“Money and the right crook for an attorney,” I tell him, unable to believe he’s serious about any of this.

“Whatever, it won’t be an issue, because you will stay.”

“Roman, I think maybe…”

I stop when he gets up and comes to stand in front of me. His hand goes to my neck and he pulls my face up to him.

“You gave yourself to me, Ana. I told you I claimed you. Maybe you don’t understand exactly what that means, but you should.” His fingers trail down my neck, pulling my shirt loose and smiling. I know he sees the dark bruise that he left there when he bit me last night. Just remembering it makes a shudder of need vibrate through me. I know Roman doesn’t miss it when his lips graze my ear. “You can fight it, pet, but your body knows who it belongs to. It craves me even now.”

I fight against the lure of him. It would be so easy to give in, to lose myself in him. I can’t. I need to keep my head straight. I should have been doing that a long time ago. I try to pull away, but Roman tightens his hold on me. “Roman, I want…”

“I bet if I touched you right now your pussy would be soaked for me.”

“Roman…”

“Am I right, Ana?”

He is. I can’t tell him that. I refuse to tell him that.

“I want to see Allen now,” I tell him, my voice monotone, and it takes everything I have to hold my body rigid and sound like I’m unaffected. I know he can tell it’s a lie, but it makes me feel marginally better. His eyes lock with mine and I see disappointment on his face as clear as day for just a split second and then it’s gone.

“Fine. Grab your coat. It’s chilly outside.”

I take a breath and step away from him. I wasn’t sure he would give in this easily. Now, if I can just make Allen listen to me without blowing my cover.

Chapter Forty

Ana

I follow Roman down the stairs to where he’s holding Allen. Each step I take, the nerves of the unknown increases. Roman and I haven’t said a word to each other since we left the apartment. I’m not sure why he’s not talking, but I have nothing to say. I’m feeling so lost. In such a short time, Roman has become this rock on which I lean. I’ve never had that in my life, not really, and Roman filled a void I didn’t know I had.

We make it down a hall to a large cemented area. Even the walls are concrete. The doors are made of steel just like the ones you would find in prison. Roman has the guard unlock the padlock so we can go inside. A part of me wants to run and hide, but instead, I force my feet to move forward. I see Allen. He’s lying on the bed, his right hand chained to a cable that runs across the room, allowing him to go from the bed to a small bath area. My stomach churns because it’s basically a large dog-run, except the cable is longer and more extensive.

“How did I know it wouldn’t be long before you showed up, sister dearest?” he says, and the guilt hits me again. Allen is three years younger than me. I was a kid myself, but he didn’t fare as well as I did with mom’s boyfriends. He blames me. I didn’t protect him enough. I didn’t take care of him. I tried, but I obviously failed and that has done nothing but make him hate me.

“I’m sorry, Allen. I didn’t know,” I whisper lamely.

“Yeah. You seem to not know a lot of shit when you should. Kind of like your boyfriend. Right, sister dear? Imagine my surprise when Roman didn’t know that you were a…”

“Allen,” I yell, trying to stop him before he can reveal to Roman that I’m a cop.

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“What a selfish bitch you are.”

“That’s enough, Stevens. I told you to show respect when you talk about your sister. That goes double for when you’re talking to her. She’s the only reason you’re still breathing,” Roman says from behind me, causing me to jump.

I look over my shoulder at him. He’s standing completely still looking at Allen with hate and anger. He’s doing it again, taking up for me when no one ever has before. That funny feeling in the pit of my stomach I get when Roman is around picks up. How can I not be drawn to this man? I touch his arm gently, turning into him. “Can I talk to him alone, Roman? Please?”

The one simple gesture catches Roman by surprise. I read it in his eyes. Seeing the state that Allen is in is jarring at first, until I realize one thing: Allen’s not high. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him where his eyes weren’t glazed over and he didn’t have that crazed look he gets when he’s coming down off his last high. I don’t know what exactly Roman’s endgame is, but I do know right now that he’s helping Allen. Call me stupid a million times—but that’s what I see here, and I think Roman’s doing it for me. Maybe Roman senses the way I’m softening, because he bends down and kisses my forehead.

“I’ll be right outside, pet.”

“Thank you.”

“Pet. Isn’t that precious,” Allen sneers after Roman leaves the room. “Boy, if he only knew the real you, right sis?”

“What’s going on with Roman and I is none of your concern.”

“Wait? Are you really slumming it with the biggest criminal in Miami? Gee, I bet your boss loves that. I’ve already gathered Anthes doesn’t know what you do for a living. I take it your boss doesn’t know about your dating activities either.”

My heart speeds up like crazy. What if Roman can hear what is said in the room? I try to change the subject. “You’re looking better.”


Tags: Baylee Rose, Jordan Marie Filthy Florida Alphas Erotic