PROLOGUE
Mandy
The wooden seat in the District Courthouse was as unyielding as Judge Mary Ritkowski. Mandy Gilchrist listened to the judge accept yet another guilty plea for drunk driving. David’s turn was next.
He wasn’t in the courtroom – yet. He was on the judge’s docket to be arraigned this morning. The judge repeated the same spiel to the fifth drunk driving case as a deputy led David and three more prisoners into the jury box.
Her breath quickened and pulse raced. David towered over the deputy and other prisoners. His orange prison garb left his muscled, tattooed arms bare. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. His dark hair fell onto his forehead.
He spotted her before he sat down. His blue eyes blazed – with either anger or relief, she couldn’t tell – before he schooled his movie-star handsome features into the hated mask she’d do anything to crack. The few, rare glimpses she’d had of the real, untamed man were the reason she was here to bail his stupid ass out of jail.
His nickname was Hack because he could hack into anything – a total computer genius. But she refused to call him that. He was more than that, even though he was trying his best to prove that he wasn’t.
She’d be maxing out her credit card if the judge offered the 10% option. Mandy had no hope in hell otherwise. This was all kinds of stupid. She knew that. Hell, that was her job. She and David were licensed private investigators. Her specialty was helping women track down assholes they trusted and gave their life savings to – in hopes of recouping their money.
Ryan and Reece, her bosses, would flip a collective cow if they knew she was here. But while she was tracing bank transactions for Ryan to help him locate his girlfriend, she discovered David’s bank accounts were empty. His credit cards were maxed out, too. There was no other way.
A woman wearing a blazer and police shield strode up to the seats reserved for attorneys. Unable to resist the weird, magnetic pull he had on her, she looked at David. He shook his head and frowned.
Fuck this. She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, nodded and mouthed “yes,” the way she did when they worked and competed with each other on cases she wanted to crack before he did.
She would get so damn close, only to have him get the last bit they needed before she did – every damn time. They made a good team, an awesome team. She could help him out of this shit show, if he let her.
His gaze flashed with anger before he looked away. Good. She wasn’t scared of his anger. He would never hurt her, she knew that – although he’d said several times he would spank her ass.
Her cheeks flamed. The cop swiveled in her chair and stared at her. Shit oh shit oh shit. She’d caught their exchange. Panicked, Mandy pretended to rifle through her purse until the cop turned around. How could she have been so stupid?
“People versus David Varetti.”
David stood before the judge, flanked only by a deputy, no attorney. The man who sat next to the cop stood. “Daniel Lemon for the people,” he said.
“Mr. Varetti, you are charged with one count of attempted kidnapping and kidnapping,” the judge said. “And I see you do not have an attorney, so I will enter a plea of not guilty on your behalf.”
“We’re asking for $500,000, no-cash surety, as we have surveillance tape and a witness statement Mr. Varetti attempted to abduct a woman and did, we believe, abduct a man in the space of 30 minutes.”
The judge flipped through some papers. “You have no criminal record, Mr. Varetti, and I don’t see that a weapon was seen or implied. Neither alleged victims are minors. I’m going to set bond at $75,000, cash surety, and require you to wear an electronic monitoring device, if you post bond. Your exam is set for November 30 because of the Thanksgiving holiday.”
The cop nodded at the prosecutor. David thanked the judge. Mandy stood, anxious to get to the window to post his $75,000-bond, as the deputy led him away.
The lobby was busy. She got in line for the cashier and stopped short, causing the woman behind her to crash into her. “Sorry,” Mandy said over her shoulder.
It was then she saw him – J.M. Manning. He stood at the cashier’s window. He was all over the news, a local kingpin in organized crime up on federal charges. He was also the long-lost father of her boss, Ryan’s, wife, Kristin. Apprehension raced up her spine. Manning was charged with extortion and bribery. He was out on a million-dollar bond, awaiting trial.
And David was connected. She was there when Manning showed up at a restaurant to talk urgent business with him. And that’s all she knew, but damnit, she was going to find out what he was up to.
When Manning finished his business, he saw her. He smiled and nodded. She flashed her fake smile, and he turned and walked way.
Ten minutes later, it was her turn. She’d posted bail before, when her brother got popped for drunk driving, but never this much money. She dug out her credit card, grateful she hadn’t indulged her QVC vice lately.
“Posting bail for David Varetti,” she said. Her voice sounded strong and confident, so at odds with the storm of emotion tossing in her guts. The gray-haired man at the window lifted his hand, as to say halt, and shook his head. “It’s been paid, miss,” he said. His eyes were kind.
“Who?” The word burst out before she could stop it. He held her gaze then looked pointedly over her shoulder to where Manning stood against the wall, talking on his phone. “I can’t say,” he said, glancing at her credit card and wincing.
The line behind her was long. She had to move along. “Where would he be released from?” she asked, shoving her credit card back in her wallet.
“From lockup at the police department,” he said. This time her smile was real. “You take care, miss,” he said. “You remind me of my daughter.” His face was somber. She thanked him and left the window.
Manning was deep in conversation on his phone as she walked past.
CHAPTER ONE
Hack
Hack grit his teeth, as the deputy attached the tether to his ankle, and stood in the black T-shirt and jeans he was arrested in. He checked the bin for his stuff – wallet, phone, car keys and belt – no .38. He looked at the deputy in question. “Get it back from the front desk,” he said. “If you have a CPL.”
He did. Luckily, he didn’t have his pistol on him when they arrested him. He’d left it under the floorboard of his Charger when he’d tried to intercept Kristin, Ryan’s girlfriend. He made a grave mistake, involving an innocent, and the woman his former best friend loved.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d wrecked the bond with Reece and Ryan – his brothers from a different mother – like a mangled twist of metal and broken glass in a car crash. He closed those feelings off like a storage pod, sealing it shut.
He pulled his belt through the pant loops around his waist, trying to shut out Mandy’s face when she saw him in the jury box wearing his prison jumpsuit. She was sweet and cute and wicked smart. And he, Hack, tainted her by drawing breath.
Still, he yearned for her little smiles, the real ones she gave him when they cracked cases together at the private investigation firm they worked at. She fueled him, made him a better person. And he could not have her – not after this. Try as he might, he couldn’t shut his imaginary storage door on her beautiful face, her bright green eyes behind her glasses and petite curves he could spend the rest of forever worshipping.
Hell, he’d screamed her name when he tried to string Bria along, pretending that she, and they, meant something. He shuddered, remembering Bria’s rage at Mandy’s name on his lips.
Was Mandy there to pay his bail?
The aide said it was paid in cash. Did Manning pay it? And why?
Hack had accounts offshore – so paying him back, even with mob interest, wouldn’t be a problem. A smile played on his lips. He was picturing Mandy poking around in his financials. His sweet girl thought he was broke and wanted to help him.
Anger bled through him. What was she thinking, jeopardizing her financial security for scum like him? She saw that shit every day. Hell, in her year with him at R & R Investigations and Security, tracking down deadbeats who swindled lonely women out of their life savings was her specialty.
She knew better, damn it. He stepped into his shoes and nodded to the deputy that he was ready. He signed the form, stating he had his stuff, then retrieved his gun.
He was sick of this dance with Manning. Hack had bad intel that some assholes would try to keep Manning quiet by taking Kristin, so he tried to abduct her to keep her safe – a plan she’d foiled. It was all bullshit that wrecked his relationship with Reece and Ryan. Hack would not have harmed Kristin in any way – only to show Manning not to fuck with him. Manning’s minions terrorized Harriet, his gambling-addicted mother. They shook her down for the spiraling debt she owed the loan sharks who reported to Manning. Harriet dragged her oxygen tank into the smoke-filled casinos for years, sinking her life savings and health. His mother saw the easy loan shark money as a way out, always sure her next big win was a throw or pull away. The addiction the mobster offered was one she couldn’t walk away from.
But for now, Hack needed a ride, some food and a drink. He made his way to the lobby.
Mandy.
She stood near the door, wearing her little plaid coat, buttoned up to her stubborn chin with the cute dimple. Her strawberry, blond hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders. She wore navy, blue tights he wanted to peel off her shapely legs and tie her up with then feast on her gorgeous curves.
He stepped closer, catching her exotic, floral scent. It enthralled him, made him think about coming home to her every night. The animalistic feelings to make her his never ceased. But these were things he had no right to hope for – things he could never have.
Her shy smile twisted his guts and hardened his dick. He needed to piss her off, before he took hold of her, crushed her lips under his and took what he longed for.
“Hey, Tink.” She hated that nickname – short for Tinkerbell, the little fairy sprite she reminded him of. She scowled, all pissy. He hardened to the point of pain.
“Manning paid your bail,” she said.
His anger resurfaced. “And you were going to? Is that why you’re here?”
She stalked toward him, all five feet, two inches of fury. She clenched her little hands into fists and spoke in a harsh whisper. “Mob money, you took dirty money.” She was breathing hard, her cheeks stained with color, making it hard to make out her tiny crescent-shaped birthmark of seven little dots just under her right eye.
Unable to resist, he reached for her fist and pulled her closer. “Tink, Mandy, I can pay him back. I will pay him back.”
“No, you can’t,” she hissed. “I saw your accounts.” Her lip trembled. She was scared for him. He ran his thumb over her chin, tracing the sexy dimple he adored. He would stop touching her in a minute. “No, darlin’.” He smiled to reassure her. “You didn’t find everything.”
Her smile hit him square in the solar plexus. He had to have a taste to get him through the endless nights without her in the rest of forever that loomed ahead. Angling his head, so he wouldn’t smash her tortoiseshell glasses, he traced the seam of her soft, full lips with his tongue.
She opened, and he sipped gently until her tongue slid against his. Forgetting where they were, forgetting everything except her, he deepened the kiss, exploring the depths of her sweetness like a starving man. When her arms circled his neck, he pulled her soft curves into his body.
“Ahem.” He lifted his mouth, smiling when he saw Mandy’s glasses were fogged. He made sure she was steady then regretfully let her go.
Manning. He stood, waiting.
Manning nodded then turned to him. “We need to talk,” he said. “We can drop you off.”
We? As Hack glanced around the lobby, Bria burst in. Fuck. Mandy flinched.
Bria’s gaze flickered over Mandy dismissively, at first, until recognition dawned, and she stared at her, puzzled. Her cold, blue eyes reminded him of shards of glass. Her sleek, blond hair and tall, willowy figure drew second looks, and he felt nothing. “Who is this?” Bria asked, staring at him and ignoring Mandy.
Hack wasn’t proud of his past involvement with Bria. Ryan and Reece had fired the previous R & R receptionist just after Mandy got hired. He felt sorry for her, and one thing led to another. Bria also had a gambling problem and was involved with the same sharks his mother had been tangled up with – ones she’d discovered because of Hack. So he felt guilty and tried to keep her safe as well as use her to get the information from her about Manning the FBI wanted.
God, it was all a fucked up mess.
“We work together, or we did,” he said, hoping like hell Bria didn’t lose her shit until they left the police station.
Bria rested her claw-like talons on his arm. He barely suppressed a shudder. “Oh, right,” she said.
Maybe Bria did him a favor, for once. It was best to let Mandy think Bria meant something to him, so she would walk away. He settled his features into the mask that was now his second nature.
He stepped toward Manning. “Let’s go.” It took everything inside him to ignore Mandy. He couldn’t, wouldn’t look at her sweet face – or he would never leave her.
His chest felt hollow, and his guts clenched into knots. “That way, babe,” Bria said, glancing back at Mandy with a sneer.
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