When He's Dirty (Walker Security - Adrian's Trilogy 1)

Savage smirks. “You’re the little bitch.”

“When my mama got a hold of me, yeah. I was.”

Everyone laughs and my phone starts ringing again, and thanks to Savage running his mouth, I easily slip away from the group.

I walk away, feeling all kinds of dirty, and not because I’m Mexican. I’m proud of my heritage. I loved my mother dearly and so did my father. Even so, despite inheriting her dark hair and brown eyes, no one thinks I’m Mexican. It works for me, it means I can play the Latin role or not, I’m easy that way. And that’s exactly how I ended up undercover for the Feds on the case that pretty much gutted my life. I was seasoned, a good choice for a dangerous job. And the devil incarnate, our target, liked me. More and more, I’m not sure if that’s a testament to my skills or my character.

“Someone else is dead,” I say, skipping the niceties, which my caller will understand. Kirk Pitt was on the same task force I was when we took on the King Devil, Nick Waters—the leader of one of the most notorious biker gangs in the world. He just wasn’t on the inside of the club like I was. He wasn’t ruined like I was.

“Yes,” he confirms. “Another one down. We need you, man, or Waters is going to get off. The ADA on this case is asking for you.”

My lips thin. We got Waters and a shit ton of his people on everything from extortion to murder to sex trafficking. The problem is I’m one of the only credible witnesses that can pull all the pieces together.

“I bet she is,” I say.

“She’s legit, man.”

“And you know that how?”

“Her reputation.”

“You forget that nothing gets Nick Waters off like turning a good girl going bad.”

“All those years you were under were for nothing if he’s the one getting off.”

“Which is exactly what happens if I’m dead,” I say.

“Adrian, man—”

“What does she know about me?”

“She knows you by your real name, Adrian Mack, not Adrian Ramos. Your photos and file remain top secret to protect your identity but she’s read your written testimony.”

“What about John Jacobs?” I ask. “He’s the CEO of a the next best thing to Facebook. He was Waters’ partner. Where are you on getting him to roll over on Waters?”

“Nowhere. He’s not even in the picture. He knows we don’t have shit on him. He and Waters will be back in business in no time without you. Call the prosecutor, man. Talk to her.”

My lips thin. “Text me her information. I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll text you right fucking now because you don’t have a lot of time on this, none of us do. The trial is only six weeks away. He knows you’re out there. He knows you can come for him. You think he’s not coming for you?”

A muscle in my jaw ticks. “I’ll be in touch.”

I disconnect and my phone immediately buzzes with a text message. I sit down on a living room chair and click the Dropbox link Kirk just sent me. The first document is a photo of a gorgeous brunette with blue eyes. Priscilla Miller, often called “Pri,” spent years working for her father’s high-profile law firm, helping bad guys walk free. She did well. She made a lot of money. Then one day, she quit and joined the good guys at the district attorney’s office, walked away from the money in the process. Only, things like that don’t just happen. I know. I didn’t just randomly wake up and decide to leave the Feds. Shit happened. I had motivation. I want to know what motivated Pri. I have to know. Because this woman is now more a part of my past and my future than any other woman ever has been in my lifetime. Some might say she could be the life or death of me. I’d say I’m the life or death of her. If she’s dirty, I might just have to kill her. If she’s not, I have to keep her alive.Chapter TwoADRIAN

I glance up from the electronic file I’m looking at to find Asher and Savage’s wives hugging all over them. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. They’re family men now, and once a Walker becomes a family man, he backs out of the more dangerous jobs. They’ve had their big paydays. They’ve done their time. They stay home and safe. They keep their wives safe.

I’m putting them in danger just being here.

I can’t be here, not until this is over. Maybe not ever again.

Pushing to my feet, I head for the door and I don’t look back. Exiting the apartment, I wait until I’m in the elevator and punch in a text to Raf, my younger brother by six years, and the only family I have left: I’m hot right now. That means you are, too. Keep your security tight. I’ll call you later.