Page 56 of Never Say Never

York cleared his throat. “Thanks again, for cheering the girls up.”

I waved him off. "Any time." And I meant it.

"Paul—" A knock interrupted me.

The doctor walked in a smile on his face. "Glad you're awake, this one was going to fall over from lack of sleep if you'd stayed asleep any longer."

York looked my way, studying me again, before turning back to the doctor.

I knew our future was nothing pretty. We were on opposite sides of the law, and there was no future for someone like me and York. But for a split second, I could imagine a different me, a different life.

With York.

The sling rubbed against my clothing in a way that made every movement louder than it needed to be. Not only that, but it made driving damn near impossible. I couldn't turn safely, couldn't operate my vehicle like I usually did. This morning, I'd had to call for a ride share. At least I was dropped off right in front and didn't have to fight for parking in the structure.

I walked into the building and immediately felt eyes on me. That was normal, but it wasn't as bad as it was right now. It was as if people were staring holes through my body. Everyone knew that I had gotten injured, that I had surgery. I'd gotten an overabundance of sorries and flowers delivered to my hospital room. I just wanted to go back to being plain old York Washington who hadn't been shot by a gangster.

"Morning, boss," Hunter said, making me cringe. Paul had forever changed the way I viewed those words. "You okay? Can I get you a coffee?"

I didn't want anything from him. Yes, I was aware that he was sucking up, but I couldn't take it right now. There were much bigger stakes at hand.

"No, but thank you. I'm all right," I said as I walked into my office and dropped my bag off beside my desk. "You should start getting ready for the day. There are cases everywhere. Keep your eyes open."

"What about the ones we're working on now?"

I winced. "On hiatus," I said darkly as he continued to stare. I needed to figure out what was happening within my unit before I could continue hunting soulless beasts. "Agent Hunter, can I help you with something or do you plan to stare at me for the rest of the day?"

"Sorry," he muttered. "We were worried that you were..."

I frowned at the way he trailed off. They thought that I was dead. Or dying. I knew that was a blow to all of them, but I couldn't handle being their beacon of light right now. I still hurt, I ached all over. The meds were only doing so much, and I just wanted to curl up and sleep for a year. Instead, I pushed onward. As I always did.

"Thank you for the concern," I said, evenly. "But I need some time to work. Okay?"

"Of course, sir."

Hunter headed for the door, and I sighed with relief when it shut after him. Right now, my mind was in a whirlwind and my body wasn't much better. I was older than I was the last time I'd been shot. The pain was worse than I remembered. I wanted to go home, but I knew that wasn't an option. Time was of the essence, and as we grew closer to cracking down on the dangerous mobs of this city, I knew that they would be breathing down our backs even harder. It was time to stomp them out once and for all, but first I needed to figure out what was going on.

A mole. A dead informant. A gunshot wound.

It was like some horrible joke gone wrong. Over the years, I had led my team with an iron fist, but now something—or someone—was sabotaging everything that I'd worked hard for. I couldn't have that.

Glancing over the top of my computer, I pulled up my databases and began to search. First, I did a run through of everything I already knew about the Acetos, Triads, and Vitales. Their files were constantly updated with any tidbit of information that we thought would be relevant to capturing and prosecuting them. I glanced over the screen, trying to find any new information, but I came up with nothing.

"What am I looking for?" I muttered to myself.

No matter how many times I went over their files, nothing new surfaced. As I stared, I thought about Paul. He'd explained what was going on, but I still wanted—no, needed—a name. The fact that he was protecting his source so hard pissed me off, but part of me understood it. The contact he had might be our last tie to these vicious monsters that were tearing about our city. Once it was all said and done, they could face what they had done to me, what they had almost taken from me, but if we lost another informant, what the hell would we have?

Nothing.

Still, I couldn’t get the bits and pieces of conversation Paul had with the man out of my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. Did I really hear something suspicious? Or had my mind made that part up as I laid bleeding in a filthy alley?

My fingers hovered over the keys. Normally, I typed ninety-two words per minute, but as I moved my fingers over the keyboard, I knew I was moving slow because of the guilt that sat in the middle of my chest like a stone. Hesitation coursed through me, but I didn't stop. Letter by letter, I typed in a name.

Paul Gallo.

I smacked the enter key and his picture filled my computer screen. The same blond hair and blue eyes that I had started to associate with pleasure, friendship, and warmth stared back at me, but I felt something else along with familiarity. Uncertainty. Was Paul really who he said he was? It wouldn't be the first time that someone had slipped their way into our agency for some unholy reason. The more I thought about Paul betraying not only me, but our entire team, my stomach twisted and churned.

Could he really do this?