Catch me when i fall cat.., p.2
Catch Me When I Fall (Catch Me Duet Book 1), page 2
That was almost seven years ago. Dean Connors wasn’t dead, and unfortunately, neither was I.
In fact, both of us were staring at each other in the middle of Oasis as I waited on Jeremy Jones to make his appearance.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Grayson.” That wasn’t the dead baseball player talking. No, it was his gorgeous wife standing at his side. My eyes drifted to her, taking in her brunette curls, her ocean blue eyes. Her voice was sweet, but her body was on alert.
She was on edge.
Rightfully so. These people knew nothing about me, but I knew everything about them. I made sure of that before I made my first appearance here when I was looking for Mason Langston.
“Grayson is fine, Mrs. Connors,” I said, giving her a faint smile, just to let her know she had nothing to fear from me. I had no issues with these people or this city; it was the way it made me feel that I didn’t like.
It made my fucking skin crawl.
“Grayson,” she repeated, her face splitting into a gorgeous smile.
Fucking Christ.
Jaw tight, I looked away from her quickly, not wanted to be sucked into her beauty. Dean Connors had everything I thought I wanted—a family. He had a woman who loved him and stuck by him no matter what, children who looked up to him. He would never understand how lucky he was. Neither did the Oasis leaders. They all had a woman, someone to warm their beds at night so the demons wouldn’t keep them up. Looking at Gwen, seeing her love for Dean shining brightly in her pools of ocean blue was torture for a man like me.
I would never have that because of choice I made a long time ago.
A cellphone rang, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her pull the device out of her jeans.
“Excuse me,” she muttered and turned away from us. She walked by her husband, touching his arm as she went. When she was out of earshot, I looked to Dean to find him still staring at me, his hazel eyes assessing me.
He stood around my height, his arms folded over his chest. His signature dirty blond locks were tied in a bun on the top of his head, his beard longer than it was the last time I saw him last year. There was a scar over his left eye that started above his brow and didn’t stop until the middle of his cheek.
It reminded me of mine.
At the thought, my left temple began to tingle, phantom pain reintroducing itself for the first time in months.
Avoiding his scar, I looked back into Dean Connors’ eyes. After a few more moments of silence, he asked, “How the fuck did you manage to get a C-130 last year?”
My lips twitched. Red Snake Investigations had connections. We had people who owed us favors, powerful individuals. Last year, when Jeremy called, Oasis was wrapped up in some shit with the Bratva. He needed a plane big enough to transfer some cars to Seattle, and I showed up with a C-130, Hayes in the cockpit.
Not moving an inch, I responded, “Got some good friends.”
“I’ll fucking say,” Dean muttered just before a bang sounded behind him. We both looked to the car bays to see another brunette in coveralls, hands on her hips, looking at a part on the ground in front of her.
“You alright, Nikki?” Dean called.
Her head snapped up, and my eyes dropped to the oil smear on her cheek as she green eyes widened. The stray hairs from her messy bun fell around her face as she nodded, waving her hand in apology. “Sorry, boys. This fucking Toyota is giving me shit.”
“Wouldn’t give you fucking shit if you’d just let me look at it,” a male voice chimed in.
My eyes slid over to the last bay where Cain Donovan stood, his coveralls rolled down to his hips, leaving him in just a dirty T-shirt on top. He wiped his hands on an oil-streaked towel, shaking his head at his woman before turning and looking at me. His jaw tightened as I gave him a nod in greeting.
He didn’t like me.
I didn’t give a fuck.
“Yo, Grayson,” another familiar deep voice called from behind me.
I turned away from Cain and his woman to find Jeremy Jones walking up, his boys, Dontell and Leon, flanking him. I had been around these men before, and I knew five minutes in that they were good people. In my line of work, you didn’t really meet a lot of those. So, despite the fact that I wanted nothing more than to be done with this city, Jeremy was a good connection to have.
The last thing Red Snake needed was to burn a powerful bridge. Someday, we would need a favor from Oasis, and by doing this for Jeremy, it would be owed to me.
“Jones,” I greeted, extending my hand.
An easy, lazy grin spread across his face, his brown eyes bright as he shook my hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice sincere.
I nodded, grinding my molars for a moment as we shook hands. Once he released me, his boys stepped up.
“Good to see you again, Grayson,” Dontell said, shaking my hand next.
“Sorry it’s not for fun,” Leon added, holding his out as I let Dontell’s hand go.
“It never is,” I deadpanned, shaking his.
After the introductions were finished, we took a seat at the nearby round table. Cain was still watching me, but the tension in his shoulders had disappeared by the time he and Nikki joined us, Gwen moving to sit behind her husband as well. I didn’t bother focusing on them, keeping my eyes on Jeremy’s. He was the one who called me here.
“I’m here,” I began, lifting my chin. “Give it to me.”
A file sat on the table, and Jeremy took a quick look inside before tossing it to me. It landed with a quiet splat in front of me. Immediately, I got to business, scanning over the first page.
Bracing myself, I turned the page to find a full picture of the woman. As I drank in her bright blue eyes and her blonde curls, darkness stirred inside of me.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Last night, after Jake worked his magic, he found one solitary picture of Carrie on the Internet. It was from when she was a small child, laughing in her father’s arms. We found nothing else on her; all information about Carrie Hale had been locked up and sealed tight by the FBI.
That complicated things.
Jake was damn good, but not as good as the FBI hacker who sealed her records. Conveniently enough, Jeremy Jones was married to said hacker; Jake recognized her signature in the code almost instantly.
I peeled my eyes from the picture, burying the feeling arising in my chest, looking back across the table to Jeremy. “You’re wife is good,” I began, and everyone at the table seemed to stiffen. “While my tech man and I appreciate the beauty of Casey’s work, before I can move forward, I’m going to need all records unsealed.”
Silence followed, even the sounds of cars being worked on ceasing to exist for a few moments. All eyes were on me, but I kept my gaze on Jeremy. I expected push back, but I got just the opposite.
“Done.”
My brows rose just a fraction. “Just like that?”
He nodded.
“Carrie’s family,” Dontell murmured, his voice thick with sadness. “After everything she’s been through, we’re all she has left.”
His words struck me, threatening to seep into my chest and into the organ inside it.
Blinking, I bit down on my jaw as my defenses shot back up. “I understand that, Dontell,” I told him, trying and failing to sound sincere. The girl was nothing more than a case—a mark. Her…family shouldn’t have this effect on me, and I shouldn’t allow them to.
Looking back to Jeremy, I watched as he rose from his seat. “Come on,” he ordered, walking around the table.
Without looking at the rest of the table, I followed him out of Oasis into the bright morning, the sunlight glistening off the Arch just a few miles from us. He walked ahead of me, heading to his beast of a Challenger parked by the building. He clicked the locks, heading to the driver’s side. “Get in.”
I stopped in front of the car. “Where are we going?”
He looked at me over his shoulder. “To see my wife.”
Chapter 2
Grayson
The St. Louis FBI field office was just how I’d imagined it to be.
Young, restless agents were running around like the world was ending, the more seasoned agents sipping coffee quietly as they shifted through case files. It was madhouse, yet there was a certain order to all the chaos. I was comfortable here.
As the elevator closed, Jeremy looked at me over his shoulder, jerking his chin to the right.
“Her office is this way,” he told me as he moved.
I followed him silently, the visitor’s badge remaining in my hand as we made our way past the bullpen and into a brightly lit hallway with navy blue carpet. My eyes scanned the names on the closed office doors until Jeremy slowed in front of one labeled Casey Gomez-Jones, rock music blaring from inside. He didn’t bother knocking on the door; instead, he pulled out his phone. I watched his thumbs move over the screen for a moment before he pocketed the device and leaned against the wall by the door, folding his arms over his chest, eyes to the floor. “She’ll be just a second,” he muttered. “Judging by the Nickelback blaring, she’s in the zone.”
I didn’t respond.
I was too busy going running through the probability of Hale actually being dead. She couldn’t have gotten far, not with any money to her name. A woman alone like that, in a world like this? Her chances of survival were slim, a princess who willingly walked into the wolf den.
A few minutes later, I heard the music cut off, followed by someone cursing in Spanish. When the door opened, the tech genius’ eyes went to her husband before flicking over to me, her honey-colored eyes widening a bit as she said, “Tell your boy he’ll never crack my codes.”
I held her eyes as Jeremy looked over to me. “If he really wanted to, Mrs. Jones, he would. I told him to back off out of respect for your husband,” I told her. “Can we get on with this?”
Jeremy nodded and looked to Casey. “Honey, Grayson is going to need everything on Carrie,” he told her, his voice soft.
“I’m not unsealing her files, Jer,” she quipped. “I sealed them for her protection.”
A muscle in my cheek jumped at her words. “Protection?” I parroted, jaw tight once more.
Casey looked at me, her eyes pleading behind her glasses. “Tell your boy to stay away from those files. If he somehow manages to breach them—”
My patience was wearing thin now. “If you want me to find her, then I have to know everything, including why she was in rehab to begin with,” I said, cutting her off before I looked to the Oasis leader. “You called me and I’m here. Do not waste my time sending me on a wild fucking goose chase.”
Jeremy’s eyes darkened, his jaw jumping as he slowly pushed away from the wall.
A voice came from behind me. “What do you need?”
Twisting my neck to look over my shoulder, my eyes landed on Agent James Garner.
Here we fucking go.
He was dressed in a black suit and a white shirt sans tie, his hands in his pockets. His dark eyes bounced from his hacker to Jeremy before landing on me. His eyes dropped to my shirt. “You need to put that badge where it is visible, Mr. Grayson,” he said calmly as his eyes met mine.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I returned, my voice as cold as the complicated history between us, a lifetime of secrets, surging to the surface.
Garner raised his chin slightly but gave nothing away. I was the only one here who could see the frustration hiding behind his perfect little mask.
“You want me to find Carrie Hale or not?” I asked, looking back to Jeremy and Casey. “Give me what I need so I can make that happen. I’m damn good at what I do, everyone here knows that, but even I can’t go into this fucking blind.”
“And I asked what you needed,” Agent Garner repeated, his voice hard this time.
Slowly, I looked back to him before cocking my head to the side. Did the people around him know the truth? Or was he still hiding things from his little “family?”
“Everything you have on Carrie fucking Hale,” I clipped.
The agent nodded as he looked to Casey. “Add more protection to her files. I’ll be giving Mr. Grayson hard copies.”
“Yes, boss man,” Casey responded quietly, clearly realizing the tension simmering between us.
Garner looked back to me. “Come with me.”
Two minutes later, we were on the second level of the field office as he moved around his desk, opening the right-hand drawer after scanning his thumb print. I rounded the front of the desk, not bothering to take a seat, folding my arms over my chest as frustration built. That was another thing I hated about this fucking city—everyone and everything was connected.
It was a fucking nightmare.
Garner pulled out a thick file, and it landed on the desk with a heavy slap as he put his hands back into his pockets, looking at me once more.
“Everything in that file is confidential,” he stated.
“Clearly,” I drawled.
“You need to sign an NDA,” he continued.
“What’s one more?” I returned, my voice void of emotion. Despite the annoyance and tension forming inside me, I was doing my best to keep it in check.
“This is connected to the Bratva,” Garner informed me.
Everything was always connected to something.
“How?” I questioned.
His eyes dropped to the file. “The leader of the Bratva got to ex-Mayor Gellings.”
Gellings was Carrie’s father, that much I knew.
I went to grab the file off the desk, and, in a flash, Garner’s hand was around my wrist, the head of my red snake tattoo below his fingers. Suddenly, I was fighting the urge to kill him where he stood and then forgetting this city and Carrie all together. “Get your hand off me,” I ordered, my voice calm as ever as I worked to restrain the darkness swirling inside me.
Garner pinned me with a look, not letting go of my hand. “You pick up that file, there is no turning back. You don’t think about anything but Carrie. You don’t take any other cases. You don’t do anything else until she is back here, safe and fucking sound. That understood?”
I gave him five seconds to remove his hand.
He didn’t.
My head ticked to the side. “Do you think Haley would like a one-handed husband?” I asked darkly. “Take your fucking hand off me before I call her and make her listen to your screams, Agent.”
As he pulled his hand away, he kept our gaze locked.
Oh yeah. This man didn’t show fear.
Most men would’ve been crying in the corner by now, but James Garner had been around darkness his entire life. He knew it, down to his soul.
Just like me.
“You take that file; Carrie Hale becomes your number one priority. Understood?” he clipped, sticking to the issue at hand.
My next words came out calmer than before. “I don’t take orders from you.”
His upper lip curled as he huffed. “Oh, that’s right. Joseph Grayson doesn’t take orders from anyone.”
I grabbed the file and turned, ready to the leave this fucking city, get the job done, and get back to my fucking life.
“Even in the Marines, right? Following orders was difficult for you then too, right?” he continued.
There it fucking was. Last year, he didn’t mention it—not once. He pretended I was a stranger to him. That was fine. It wasn’t like I went home and cried about it.
My footsteps halted, and I looked over my shoulder, a smirk forming on my lips. “You would do well to remember who saved your unit’s ass over there, Garner.”
Everything was fucking connected.
Agent Garner served in the Marines the same time I did.
“I remember, Grayson,” he said, coming around to the front of his desk. “I’ll always remember.”
Curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself turned around as I asked, “Tell me something, Garner. If you remember so well, then why didn’t you disclose that you knew who I was when Oasis was drowning last year?”
He shrugged a single shoulder. “Wasn’t relevant.”
I lifted my chin. “Hmm. And what about when Oasis struck a deal with Hallow Ranch?” I pushed.
His brows furrowed. “I never knew Denver Langston when I was enlisted, Grayson.”
The darkness inside of me grinned. “I’m not referring to the fucking ranch owner,” I told him. “I’m referring to the Marine running the mission that prevented you from getting blown to bits.”
Agent Garner didn’t blink. “Mags had nothing to do with any of that, Grayson, and you know it.”
“Bullshit,” I said quietly.
That got a reaction out of him. “I didn’t know Mags was at Hallow Ranch, let alone that he hasn’t left the fucking place in over ten years.”
“Always the one with secrets,” I muttered.
His dark eyes flashed. “Always the one with authority issues.”
We stared at each other for a few more minutes, and when he finally broke the silence, I could hear a hint of regret in his voice. “Bring Carrie back home.”
I said nothing, turning to head to the door once more.
“I’m sorry, Grayson,” he said to my back.
My hand landed on the doorknob and twisted it. Then, I was gone, leaving the agent’s apology in the dust.
I sat in the SUV I’d rented, bracing myself for the information I was about to inhale about Carrie Hale. Leaning back, I rested the file against the steering wheel before pinching the bridge of my nose. A second later, the cab filled with the sound of my cell ringing.
Muttering a curse, I connected the Blue-tooth and answered. “Grayson.”
“Goodman is taken care off,” Hayes informed me, not bothering with a greeting.
Well, that was something.
“Where was he?”
“In a resort hotel down the coast,” he answered.
My brow furrowed; the Hale case forgotten for a moment. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Hayes grunted. “Yeah, neither did the fifteen grams of cocaine in his system and the four hookers with him.”
