Page 9 of Draven
Shoving my body between him and her, I say, “You’ve got thirty seconds. Make ‘em count.”
My only reasoning for giving her that length of time is because if she sticks around much longer, my ribbing from Ciaran will last for days.
“My sister has gone missing,” Louise says. “And I need your help to find her.”
I shrug. “Not my problem.”
Her lips curl in a snarl, and the noise she makes in her throat kicks my dick into action. Fucking thing. What does it know?
“When did you give up on saving those who can’t save themselves, huh, Draven?” she asks, exasperation tinged with desperation bleeding into her tone. “The one thing I respected about you was that you always prioritized the victim.”
I shrug again. “Times change.” They don’t, and they haven’t. I’m still all about the victim. “Besides, I’m too busy.”
“You were talking about taking a vacation five minutes ago,” Ciaran unhelpfully interjects.
“No one asked you, so button it.”
“What’s the matter, Draven?” Louise asks. “Worried this case will beat you? Or are you such a pussy jerk off that you can’t handle being around a strong woman who won’t let you push her around?”
Ciaran’s laughter almost bursts an eardrum. “You are fantastic,” he praises, standing and shifting his position until Louise comes into view. He sticks out his hand. “I’m Ciaran. The grumpy bastard’s best friend and business partner.”
Louise gives him another of those warm smiles that I’ve never received and shakes his hand. “My condolences, Ciaran. If this jackass was my best friend, I’d demand a refund.”
Ciaran’s laughter grows while I stuff my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket in case one forms a fist and smacks right into his jaw. Traitorous bastard.
“Excuse us.” I grip her arm, pitching her to the other side of the bar, away from Ciaran’s earwigging. I’ll get enough grief from my best friend for allowing Louise to speak to me as she has. I don’t need to provide him with further ammunition.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” I snap, my face menacingly close to hers.
She meets my fierce stare with one of her own, poking me firmly in the chest. “All I’ve asked for is a few precious minutes. I get it, Draven. You’re pissed off with me because you think I ran you out of town like the bad guy in some seventies Western. But have you ever stopped to think for one second about your role in your own demise? Huh? No. You think the end always justifies the means, but sometimes, you need to take a breath and consider the consequences of your actions. Take ownership. Stop blaming others for your decisions.”
Her chest heaves with the effort of her outburst, drawing my eye to her tits. I’d pushed the image of them from my mind years ago, but now, all I want is to bury my head between her magnificent cleavage and never leave. What is it about the woman that when she rails on me, my dick gets hard as a baseball bat?
“Look.” She briefly squeezes her eyes closed. “My sister is missing as well as several other women from the Camden area. From what we’ve gleaned during the investigation, a sex trafficking gang has moved into the area, and you know as well as I do that means we’re on borrowed time. I refuse to believe she’s never coming back. I can’t lose her, Draven. She’s not only my sister, she’s my best friend. I can’t handle the thought of her scared and alone, suffering, or in pain. Please, you’re my last hope. I’m out of options. The FBI are taking over the case, and you and I both know what that means.”
Her words send me cold. My baby sister lives in Camden. At nineteen, she’s prime for a gang such as this one. I inwardly curse. That does it. I’m getting her and Mom out of there until this gang is caught…or moves on. I have enough experience to admit the latter is far more likely. These gangs tend to move in, snatch the girls to order, and ship out. Usually it’s a week or two of activity, followed by silence when they move on to another city. It’s what makes them so difficult to track and prosecute. Just look at the man hours I put into tracking Moretti through several states.
Louise touches my arm, and I glance down at where her hand lightly rests on my leather jacket, the warmth from her skin seeping through to my own.
“All I’m asking for is a few minutes of your time to explain what’s going on and show you what evidence I have. After that, if you’re still not interested in working with me, you’ll never have to see me again.”
“Now you’re selling it to me.” My voice has lost its acrimonious edge, and she knows it.
Her lips curve upward. “Great. Let’s get a drink, and I’ll brief you.”
I step in her way as she goes to brush past me. “Not now. Tomorrow. Come by my place in the morning.” I have to get over to Jersey and move my family somewhere safer, but I don’t want to tell her that. She’s panicked enough already, and if I admit that what she’s told me has me worried enough for my own family, it’ll panic her more. Plus, I can start to put the feelers out in the meantime.
I scrawl down my address, even though I have a feeling she already knows it.
“Draven, please. Don’t punish me by making me wait. The clock’s ticking.”
“Tomorrow,” I repeat, knowing I look like an asshole, but better that than scaring her more. “Take it or leave it.”
Her jaw flexes. “Fine. I’ll be there by eight.”
“Make it nine. I sleep in Sundays.”
“I hate you,” she grits out.