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Cain ( Underworld Mafia Romance 1)

Page 22

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“I thought you said the killers they hire are worse.”

“They are, but…” I let out a deep breath. “I’m trying to topple a whole organization here. I’m going after the big guns first, then I’ll take care of the vermin like him later. If I’m lucky, he’ll get caught in the net and I won’t have to fish for him separately.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Cain tells me. “If he works for the people you’re investigating, then it’s likely I’ll find him where you find them.”

Go with me? Is he suggesting we work together?

“Um, no.” I get off the couch and start to pace. “I’m sorry, Cain, but we are not doing this together.”

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t work together,” I answer. “I’m an FBI agent…”

Well, I’m suspended, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“…and you’re a private investigator.”

“We could work together, though. Law enforcement agencies cooperate all the time.”

I snort.

“Fine. Maybe they don’t. But we can still work together.”

“No.” I stop pacing so I can look him in the eye and shake my head. “We’re not working together.”

“You said yourself that you’re trying to topple an entire organization. You need as much help as you can get.”

“I have help,” I lie. “I have the whole Bureau behind me.”

“Exactly. Behind you. You need someone on the front lines with you. Someone who’s used to being on the front lines. Someone experienced and skilled. Someone who can push you out of the way of a sniper’s bullet.”

“You mean someone to protect me?”

“No.” To my surprise, Cain shakes his head. “I don’t protect people. I don’t do that.”

And I thought soldiers were all about protecting.

“I can’t. No one can protect anyone no matter how hard they try.”

Ah. He’s tried to protect someone before and failed, so he’s decided never to try it again. I understand. I tried to do ballet before to make my mom happy – she wanted me to be more graceful and, well, girlish – and I failed. I’ve never worn a tutu again.

“I’m not a bodyguard, Alyssa,” Cain tells me.

“Allie,” I tell him.

I can’t believe we’ve been talking for several minutes here and I haven’t given him my name until now. Well, it seems like he knows it anyway.

“How do you know my name?” I’m curious to know.

“It came up.”

“I see.”

I wonder what else he knows about me.

“So it’s Allie, not Al?” Cain asks.

Apparently, not much.

I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t think so.”

“Hmm.”

I frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” he answers. “As I was saying, I’m not a bodyguard, Allie.”

“And yet you saved my life,” I point out.

“I was just in the right place at the right time,” Cain says. “It was just my luck. Or yours.”

Lucky me.

“But if you feel indebted to me, just let me help you.”

I sigh. “Listen, Cain, I know you’re good at what you do, and I’m grateful you saved my life, but no.”

“Why not?” Cain repeats his question.

I sit on the couch. “Because I work alone.”

Cain gives me a puzzled look. “I thought you just said you have an entire organization behind you.”

“I meant…” I draw a breath. “I work alone.”

I’ve never been good at working with others. Either they dump all the work on me because they know I can pull it off all by myself or I just come up with better ideas and they end up resenting me and leaving me to work on my own. Either way, I end up alone. So I might as well work alone.

“Guess what?” Cain says. “So do I.”

I kind of got that. After all, private investigators are usually very private themselves. They rarely work in pairs. Plus I’m guessing Cain must have grown tired of being part of a unit after being in the military.

I arch an eyebrow. “You do realize if you work with me, you won’t be working alone?”

“It’s fine.”

It is?

“Well, it’s not fine with me,” I tell him as I hold my shoulders up and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m doing this alone, and that’s final.”

Cain falls silent. For a moment, he just looks into my eyes. Is he trying to stare me down? I keep my shoulders square and stare back, trying to let him know he doesn’t intimidate me. Still, I let out a breath of relief when he finally breaks eye contact. A few seconds more and I might have shown my belly.

He stands up.

“Make sure you report the shooting to the police,” he tells me. “And stay somewhere else in the meantime. Somewhere safe.”

If only he had spoken with even just a tinge of concern in his voice, I would have found him sweet, but I didn’t hear any. I’m still not getting any emotion from him, not even frustration about the fact that I just turned him down. Repeatedly.

Now, I’m frustrated.

I try to hide it, though, and just nod. I say nothing more as I watch Cain leave. He walks out the front door and I see him walk past the window. Then he’s gone.



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