Dangerous Secrets (Knights of War MC Book 2) Page 7

  She leaned back on the surprisingly comfortable sofa. “I did some digging, contacted our gang unit. The dude in the red truck is a South Side Vato. They’re just a shitty street gang slinging dope and pimping out chicks.”

  “No dogfighting with them?”

  “Not as far as our gang intel goes.”

  Hem stretched his arms over the back of the couch. “I’m baffled. What the fuck are they doing with the dogs?”

  “I was hoping maybe you could find out. If you can find the dude who owns that vest, maybe he can answer that question. By the way, do your friends here know that I’m a cop?” One of the members sitting at the bar kept glancing her way. She hoped she hadn’t arrested him at some point. That would be awkward.

  “A few know.”

  “And they’re okay with it?”

  “Holly is a reporter. If they let her in, I’m sure they’re good with a cop.”

  “So, reporters are lower on the food chain than cops?”

  “What do you think?” Hem laughed. “Reporters are sneaky and publicly print shit.”

  “Cops put you in jail.”

  Hem smirked. “Not if nobody talks.”

  Chapter Ten

  Hem

  Hem leaned toward Calliope. “But I’m going to talk because I trust you. Hunter and I are heading down to El Paso for business in a couple of days, then we’re going to step over into Mexico. We found out that the chapter in Little Rock has an AWOL member. They’re a fairly new chapter, so that cut might belong to our missing guy.”

  “Did he disappear in Mexico? Is that why you’re going down there?”

  “Yep. He was supposedly on vacation and just never came back. I’m not sure he was actually on vacation, though. I suspect he might’ve been trying to do some side business behind the club’s back.”

  “Odd.”

  “It is especially since that chapter doesn’t have any authority to do business down there, and it’s a big no-no to do business behind our back.”

  “Okay. I’m stalling the major crimes unit on what I found on the computer. But I may go ahead and tell them about the suspected trafficking.”

  “Does that include telling them about the club?”

  “I can leave that out initially, but at some point, I’ll have to tell them.”

  “I understand. If you can hold off until we get down to Mexico, I’d appreciate it.”

  “You got it.”

  “Seems like we’re always talking about work,” Hem said.

  “It’s this life, you know. I feel like I’m married to my job. As we speak, there are files on my bed at home.”

  “I’m sure you could arrange something more cozy than files to be in your bed.” Hem smirked. He liked teasing her.

  “Are you volunteering?” she asked.

  “What would you say if I was?”

  “I’d definitely take it under consideration.”

  “Do you work tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll be off around five unless there’s some huge cyberattack in the city.”

  “Let’s hope there’s not. How about if I come over tomorrow night, and we can put our heads together more on this case?” Maybe even put a little more than that together if he was reading her body language right.

  She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

  “Cool. We can reminisce about our days in the military and how we thought we’d conquer the world back then.”

  “You talk like it was fifty years ago.”

  “It feels like it sometimes, doesn’t it?” he asked. His days in the service weren’t that long ago, but he felt light years away from that life now. Callie was waking up that guy he was before, and Hem wasn’t entirely disappointed. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be a let down from the image she seemed to have built up around him after what happened back in San Antonio. He hadn’t directly brought it up because it was her story, and maybe it was something she’d just rather forget.

  Hem wasn’t her hero. He’d done what any decent guy would’ve done under the same circumstances. He also didn’t want her jeopardizing her career because she felt obligated to shield the club for him. They could really talk more about that when he saw her tomorrow.

  Calliope yawned and blinked. “I should get going. I’m tired, and I have to be at the station at eight in the morning.”

  “Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

  “I forgot to fill out my survey card.”

  Hem laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll fill yours out for you. What were your favorite dishes tonight?”

  “The halibut, the lobster bisque, and the lemon cake.”

  “Funny. Those were mine too. I got you.”

  “Thanks, Hem.”

  After Calliope left, Hem opened up a beer and sat back on the couch. Hunter ambled over and sat across from him. “So, are you tapping the cop? Wouldn’t hurt to have her on our payroll.”

  “Nah, man. It’s not like that. She’s a friend.”

  “Dude. Have you had any lady friends that you didn’t lay?”

  Hem thought for a moment. “Um. Well, no. Except for your bride-to-be.” He laughed. “But Callie’s different.”

  “Oh, damn. So, she’s special then? You getting soft, man?”

  “She is but not special in the way that I’m trying to get into her pants, you fucker. And you’re so whipped you’re almost meringue.”

  “How do you come up with this shit?” Hunter put his hand on his chest and laughed.

  “I’m a creative son-of-a-bitch.”

  “That you are.”

  * * *

  Hem knocked on Callie’s door and waited. They’d agreed on take-out, so he’d brought a bottle of Jack Daniel’s to go with whatever they ordered.

  The door opened a fraction, and Callie peeked through the crack. She closed the door to take off the chain and pulled it open. “Come in.” A Glock 23 was clutched in her right hand. Once he was inside, she locked the door and placed the gun on the table in the foyer.

  “Damn. You always answer the door with a gun in your hand?”

  She smiled. “I do. You can never be too careful.”

  He nodded. “I approve.” Strong women were attractive. The types that could cover your ass if needed. Hem wouldn’t have to worry about her being able to handle herself.

  She was dressed casually in light blue yoga pants and a gray sweatshirt with a wide collar that hung off one of her shoulders. Her dark hair was damp, and the scent of her shampoo wafted in the air. She smelled good.

  “So, what do you want to eat?”

  A crude response almost rolled off his tongue, but they weren’t quite there yet, even though she’d probably laugh if he did say it. “I’m not picky. Do you have anything particular in mind?”

  The apartment was similar to Hem’s in setup. To the right of the front door was a small kitchen, and straight ahead was a living room with thick, beige carpet. A flat-screen television was mounted to the wall on one side, and a navy blue couch sat on the opposite side of the room. A dark wood coffee table was in front of the couch. The volume was low on the TV, and an old rerun of Law & Order was playing.

  Callie walked into the kitchen and pulled open a drawer. An assortment of menus were neatly stacked inside, and Callie spread them out on the faux granite countertop.

  “We have pizza, Thai, Chinese, I have a coupon for a buy one get one free salad from the Greek deli. Any of that spark your interest?”

  “Thai sounds good.”

  “I love Thai.” She opened the menu. “They have really good Pad Thai. Spicy enough to clear your sinuses for a week.”

  “I’ll have that then. The spicier, the better.”

  “Perfect.” She called in the order with her cell phone and added a large coconut lime soup and two Thai iced teas.

  Hem sat the whiskey on the counter. “For later.”

  “Nice. I’m off today and tomorrow,” she said. “But I always bring work home. Did you want t
o go over where we are on the case?”

  “Maybe later. I think we both need some downtime.”

  “I’m not even sure what that means anymore.” She rubbed her forehead. “It feels like I’m either working or asleep. I only have two speeds nowadays.”

  “That’s exactly why you need a break. You can’t keep running on fumes. You’ll run out of fuel eventually.” He sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him. “Come here.”

  Callie kind of poured into the spot next to him and easily cuddle up against him. Had it always been this natural with her? He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her shoulder.

  “Even your entertainment is police work,” he indicated the television.

  “You know that saying that you stick with what you know? I’m the sad stereotype.”

  “Nothing about you is sad, Cally-Ope.”

  She laughed. “You’d be surprised how many people actually pronounce my name that way.”

  “I guess not everyone knows Greek mythology.”

  “You know where my name comes from?”

  “Calliope was one of the muses. The one with the pretty voice and a penchant for poetry. She was the most popular.”

  “Well, that’s not me. I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

  “You miss the point.”

  Callie angled her head to look up at him. “And what would the point be?” Her lashes were long and dark and framed her blue eyes. Without any makeup, her skin was clear and pale. A small smile played on her lips above a slightly dimpled chin.

  “Umm …” Hem was rarely at a loss for words, but his tongue wouldn’t budge.

  She brought her hand up and touched his cheek then lifted her chin, bringing her mouth closer to his. She closed her eyes, and her lashes fanned out over her cheeks. Without thinking twice, he moved his mouth toward hers. Her lips parted, and then a bang on the door shattered the moment.

  “Fuck,” Hem said under his breath.

  Callie cleared her throat and pulled away from him. “That’s probably dinner.” She grabbed her purse from the end table next to the couch.

  Hem stood. “I got it. Sit your butt back down.” He pulled the chain that hooked into his wallet and took out two twenties.

  A smiling Asian dude with a cardboard tray holding Styrofoam containers waited at the door. He handed a handwritten ticket to Hem. The total was a little over thirty bucks. Hem took the box and gave the delivery guy the two twenties. “Keep the change.”

  The guy stuffed the cash into his pocket. “Thanks. Have a good night.”

  “You, too.” Hem carried the food to the coffee table and grabbed a set of chopsticks in a paper wrapper. “Ever eat Pad Thai with these things?”

  “I’ve tried, but I nearly starved to death.” She laughed. “Let me grab some forks.”

  He watched her walk to the kitchen and noted that she didn’t have a dining room table. The coffee table moved easily when he pushed it forward enough to make room for them to sit on the floor. There was enough space for the food containers and the two drinks. The food smelled great. His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  Callie handed him a fork and a paper napkin. “Fine dining.” She sat cross-legged nest him. “Let’s eat.”

  He swirled noodles around his fork and took a big bite. “Damn. That has a hell of a kick.” Hem stuck a straw into the Thai iced tea and took a long pull.

  “Mmm. So, good. I swear this is better than any Thai food I had in California, and there are some really top-notch restaurants out there.”

  “Why didn’t you go back?” Hem asked between bites of chicken and egg.

  “I don’t know. I kind of feel like I’m not the same person I was when I left there.”

  “Well, you were what? Eighteen when you left? None of us are who we’re going to be at that age.”

  “Yeah. I enlisted while I was in my senior year of high school. So, I shipped out to basic literally two weeks after I graduated.”

  “The Army made us who we are.” He looked her way in time to see her shovel a shrimp into her mouth.

  “I was scared shitless when I got on that airplane. I’d never been away from home or from my mom.”

  “I was scared shitless too.” Hem chuckled. “Pretty much everyone in my platoon was ready to shit themselves when the DS started to yelling at us.”

  “Oh, my God. There was a girl in my squad who cried every time the drill sergeant yelled at her.”

  “Oh, shit. They love that,” he said sarcastically.

  “This guy was a hard ass, but you could tell he struggled with girls crying. He’d put his hands on his hips and say, ‘Oh, for the love of buttered biscuits, quit your crying’ in this really deep southern accent. I had to fight not to laugh because you know I’d have gotten smoked if I did.”

  “No laughing, no crying, no complaining. We got smoked just for moving our eyes in the first couple weeks. Man, feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

  “Sometimes, yeah. And then sometimes, it feels like yesterday.”

  “Was the police academy the same as basic?”

  “Nah. The academy was a cakewalk compared to basic and AIT. Well, for me, it was. For some others, it was bad. We lost eight people who failed out.”

  “Damn.”

  “Well, one of them slipped through the cracks with a suspended driver’s license. I guess he thought they wouldn’t find out.” She laughed. “Idiot.”

  Callie pulled the lid off one of the soups and sipped it right out of the container. She closed her eyes. “God, that’s so good.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  Callie laughed again and gave him the side-eye. “I bet that’s not all she said.”

  “I’d wager she’d have a lot to say.”

  “Thanks, Hem.”

  “For what?” He folded his napkin and closed the Pad Thai container.

  “For coming over and having dinner with me. I honestly haven’t had a good time in too long. I’ve missed you.”

  “Yeah? I’ve missed you too.”

  “Liar.”

  He put his hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. “Why, I never.”

  Callie wiped her mouth. “Now that is a lie. How about a shot of that JD now?”

  “Yeah, okay.” He followed her into the kitchen.

  “There are some shot glasses up there.” She pointed to a double-doored cabinet up above the stove.

  He grabbed two glasses and lined them up on the counter. “Got anything to chase this?”

  The refrigerator was behind them. Inside was a carton of orange juice and two cans of diet Sprite. She gave him a sheepish grin. “Not much.”

  “I’m down to take it straight up if you are.” He filled each glass to the rim.

  “Let’s do it.” Callie tucked her hair behind her ears and picked up one glass and held it up. “What are we cheering?”

  Hem picked up the other glass and clinked it against hers. “We don’t have to toast to anything. Just enjoying each other’s company.”

  She smiled. “Perfect.”

  Hem put the glass to his mouth and watched her tip hers back before he did. The whiskey burned going down and pooled warmly in his stomach.

  Callie coughed and shook her head. “Hit me again.”

  He smirked. “You sure?”

  “Hell, yes. I never cut loose. I need this.”

  “All right, then.” He refilled both glasses. “Bottoms up.”

  She held up the glass. “That’s what he said.”

  “God damn, Callie.” Hem laughed and downed the second shot.

  “One more,” she said.

  After three shots, she staggered a little on her feet.

  “You good?”

  “I’m perfect.” She stretched her arms up, lifting her sweatshirt and revealing a small section of her stomach. “I feel really warm inside.”

  Something stirred in Hem. He knew she wasn’t talking sexy, but the words were hitting him
that way, and he imagined peeling off her shirt and tugging down the cups of her bra. He wondered what sounds she’d make as he pulled a nipple into his mouth.

  He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from her chest. But then Callie grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward her. “Kiss me.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “No, I’m really not. I’m just relaxed.” She let go and stepped back. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. If I just made an ass of myself, please pour me another shot.” Callie laughed nervously.

  Without answering her, he backed her up against the counter and leaned down. “If we cross this line, there’s no going back. You know that, right?”

  She stared up at him. “I know. But, God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “I was afraid?”

  “Of what?” He cupped her chin.

  “Of you saying no.”

  The first touch of their lips was like an electrical shock. Her lips were soft and warm, and her tongue tasted like spiced whiskey. She put her palms flat against his chest like she might push him away. He was mindful to give her that space in case she wanted to stop, but then she snaked her arms up around his neck, and he moved closer.

  He moved his hand down her sides, letting his thumbs brush the rounded edges of her breasts. His cock sprang to attention and pressed against the zipper of his jeans. He knew she felt it when she ground her pelvis against his.

  Callie slid her hand into his hair just under his ponytail and gave a hard tug. He growled against her mouth and moved his hands below her breasts. He kneaded her flesh and circled her nipples through the fabric of her top. She gasped and pushed his cut off his shoulders. He let it drop to the floor and reached down to pull his T-shirt over his head.

  Callie put her hands on the counter and braced herself there. Her chest heaved with her heavy breathing.

  He unhooked his belt to remove the knife that always hung at his waist. “You still good?” he asked as he placed the blade on the counter next to her coffee maker.

  She nodded and stared at his chest.

  Chapter Eleven

  Calliope