Lust (Vegas Nights 2)

Sam rubbed his jaw, glancing at the door a few times before sighing with resignation. “All right. We think he’s a major player in a sex trafficking ring here. We’ve been trying to get him on something for months but he always evaded us. When we said he was new to us yesterday, the only new thing was his alias. He changes them on a regular basis to avoid being caught.”

“He’s—what?”

“He’s one of a few scouts. They reel in women, take them back to their rooms under pretense of being a prostitute, then drug them. We already searched his car and found a couple grand’s worth of ketamine in there.”

I blinked. “You lied to me.”

“By omission.”

“A lie by omission is still a lie. Don’t you think you should have been honest with me? It would have changed it.”

“You wouldn’t have done it.”

“Damn right! I have a seven-year-old daughter. I’ve taken enough risks with my life over the past few years. I don’t need it in an environment where I’m supposed to be safe!” I buried my face in my hands. They’d omitted a huge piece of information in an effort for me to snare their guy.

I should just go become a cop. Clearly, I’m already better than these pieces of shit are.

I took a deep breath and dropped my hands, looking at Sam with an eerily calm expression. “Are we done here?”

“Adrian said he’ll take you home when he’s done.”

“I’m perfectly capable of calling a cab. Are we done here?”

“Adrian said—”

“Adrian can swivel on a steel spike. Are. We. Done?”

Sam swallowed. “We’re done. Will you let me call you a cab?”

I pulled my phone out of my purse and got up.

I had the number dialing before I’d even left the interview room.

It wasn’t the only number I needed to call.

***

I twirled Dahlia Lloyd’s business card between my fingers. I was sitting on my sofa wearing the same dress I’d been wearing all night, the half-empty bottle of wine sat, uncorked, on the coffee table in front of me.

The wine had been for dutch courage, but all it had done was make me overthink. I probably should have gone straight for the vodka.

Calling The Scarlet Letter right now would be useless. It was late and they were, no doubt, busy. That would be my first move in the morning, and that wasn’t quite as daunting as the prospect of calling Dahlia and saying a few short words.

I want to see my brother.

There was one way out of my life. If he really wanted to see me, I would swallow my pride and accept any help he wanted to give me. I no longer wanted to live the way I did. I wanted to be a decent mother and be there and stop putting myself in situations I despised just to get by.

And, selfishly, I knew Damien would be able to get me out of my contract with the police. Even if it meant buying me out of it and buying continued immunity. I had no idea what they would do when I said I wasn’t coming back, that tonight was the final straw, but I needed him to help me.

I was terrified of so many things.

Terrified of his rejection. Terrified I’d left it too long to call about the job Dahlia had mentioned. Terrified I’d be taken from Lola.

Terrified tonight’s secrecy was hurting me more than it should.

I threw the business card onto the table and poured more wine.

I hated how Adrian had sneaked into my life. Hated how the bond our kids had tugged at my heartstrings and changed things. I wanted Adrian Potter in my life as much as I wished he’d leave the way he came—quickly and without fanfare.

I hated how there was a dull ache when I thought about the way things had gone tonight. If Sam hadn’t told me, if they hadn’t waited, I never would have known. I could have been in real danger.

Rationally, I knew I was okay. But irrationally, I wasn’t safe. I was in terrible danger.

What if I hadn’t known?

What if, one night, he’d tried to pick me up, and I’d gone?

What that could have been in real life chilled me to the core of my bones.

I cradled the glass and leaned my head back. The light, swirling pattern in the white paint on the ceiling mesmerized me and gave me something to focus on.

I’d never asked for any of this.

I’d never invited it in, I’d never given it an opening, it had just happened. I’d been given choice after choice since the moment my mother and sister died. The choice to keep Lola had set all these things in motion, but I knew right down to my soul that there was no way I could ever regret that choice.

Even if it meant both of us would experience a little heartbreak before the year was over.