She spent her whole life taking care of him. Every scrap of food she got, she’d break in half and let him pick. He never thought to take the smaller half. Not when he was little.
When they got older…after Marcelo’s crew picked them up…it was too late. The sister he knew was already gone.
He scrubbed his face with his hand. How could he have ever sent Mia to the same fate? Had it been that long since he’d seen goodness? Hope? Had he become immune to the humanity some people still possessed?
Mia shifted in the bed and Damien shook his head at his own heartlessness. He needed to find a way to get her home and the cartel off her back. It didn’t matter what happened to him. He was a dead man.
Damien pulled a wad of cash out of his front pocket and set his handgun on the table. Only one person came to mind.
He picked up his phone and dialed the number he still knew by heart.
“Wellington PD, Johnson.”
“Hey Rick, it’s Damien Rogers.”
The twenty-year veteran of the police department turned the phone off speaker. “Are you all right?”
“Not dead yet. Need a favor.”
“It’s been a long time. The precinct’s changed.”
“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious. I don’t know who else I can trust.”
Damien ran his fingers over the ridges in the tabletop while Rick mulled it over. He was the only cop who’d ever shown a bit of kindness to Melanie. If he were on duty when she was hauled in, he’d call Damien first and get her released to his custody.
‘What do you need?”
“I’ve got a woman with me. She’s gotten tangled up in Marcelo’s gang. I’ve got to get her out.”
“What’s she done? Petty theft? Prostitution?”
Damien dug his fingernail into his palm. “No. Nothing like that. Marcelo wants her dead. She needs protection.”
“Whoa…you know I can’t promise anything like that. Shit, Damien, half the cops… you know.”
He didn’t need to say it. Damien knew. They were either on the take or would be if Marcelo’s men could get to them. It always amazed him what a couple grand in a pocket could do.
“She’s not just a girl from the streets, Rick. She’s the DA’s daughter.”
Rick cursed into the phone. “You’re involved in the Davenport mess? Fuck, man, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“What’s the talk?”
“That it’s Marcelo’s work. But the ADA wants it wrapped up. He’s up the chief’s ass every damn day to get the case closed. He’s gunning for an interim appointment and then the election.” Rick paused. “The DA’s body hasn’t been released from the morgue and the man is already campaigning. It’s sick.”
“It’s politics.” Damien cracked his knuckles. It’s why he couldn’t stand the rich in town. They were worse than the criminals. At least a thug was straight up with his crimes. The politicians and the attorneys and the cops? They were the liars.
“Can you help her?”
“I can try.”
Damien exhaled. Probably the best he could do. “Thanks, Rick.”
“No promises, Damien.”
“I know. I’ll be back in touch.” He hung up as Mia rolled over in the bed.
“Is something wrong?” Her sweet, sleepy voice tugged at something long buried inside him.
Damien stood up in a rush. “No. Go back to sleep.”
Her caramel hair trailed behind her as she leaned close. “Come to bed. You must be exhausted.” She patted the empty pillow and Damien swallowed.
Women didn’t affect him. They could be pretty or ugly, fat or thin. He never cared. They had only been tools. Something he used to pass the time or get his rocks off. Not a person with feelings attached.
But one look at the beautiful, innocent woman smiling up at him, half-drunk on sleep, had his hard edges easing. She was a bad influence.
A terrible decision.
Mia needed to get far, far away from him before he couldn’t stop himself. Damien walked up to the bed. She smiled and another chink in his armor broke free.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” His words came out thick. Heavy.
She rolled over and pushed the covers down. “I’m not.”
Damn. Her body curved against the mattress. Pert breasts, wide hips, gorgeous ass.
He let out a low groan and climbed over her. “Be careful what you wish for, Mia.”
“Too late.”
Her lips landed on his and Damien came unglued. His hands were too rough, too hard. He tore at her skin, shoved her legs apart with his knees. She was pinned beneath him but it wasn’t enough. He wanted every inch she could give.