hell.
Shaine chose to ignore Poppy so he could get his thoughts on the right track. This case was the kind that made or broke careers.
It was also the kind that put agents in the ground.
“For the sake of security,” West said, “our contact in Miami will not meet with us until we land. Agent Stapp and I will stay at an undisclosed and newly acquired safe house, while agents Kelly and Jones will be set up in a different location, more central to the college party scene.”
Hobbs nodded. “If you’ll look in your dossiers, you’ll find a comprehensive list of suspected players. We suggest you start there.”
Shaine thumbed through the sheaf, his mind humming. Undercover work fed his need for adrenaline and he loved it—but he’d rather chew nails than work side by side with Poppy and her pretty boy, Marcus.
“With all due respect, this isn’t my first rodeo. Going deep cover gets risky when there are more players involved. I don’t mind the DEA providing support from behind the scenes, but frankly, dealing with a partner just adds to the risk for everyone involved.”
Not to mention I work better alone.
Poppy offered a brief but chilly smile. “The DEA appreciates your expertise in deep cover operations, Agent Kelly. Your success rate for apprehensions is impressive. However, you’ve gained a reputation for being reckless, which makes you unpredictable. El Escorpion has managed to elude capture for years. It will take more than luck to bring him or her down.”
Shaine held Poppy’s stare, amazed at the balls on the woman. “I’m not sure if I should take your comment as a compliment or an insult,” he said, toying with the pen in his fingers.
“Your choice.” Poppy’s smile returned as if daring him to go a round with her.
Hobbs cleared his throat, sensing the brittle tension growing between Shaine and Poppy. “Let’s remember, we’re all on the same side. El Escorpion is the enemy, not anyone in this room. Private transport has been arranged to Miami at 0600 hours tomorrow. Pack light. A Miami summer is hot, humid and filled with alligators.”
“Sounds like fun,” Poppy quipped, scooping up her folder. “See you tomorrow morning.”
Shaine watched them leave, his one thought being, Poppy will fit right in with the wildlife, before turning to Hobbs.
“What’s the deal with you and that DEA agent?” Hobbs asked, narrowing his gaze. “Is there something I should know?”
“Nope,” he lied.
“Then why are you being so hostile? Those agents are highly trained in their fields and your posturing makes us look bad. This is a high-profile undercover case with a lot of pressure from the higher-ups to get it closed. That means you’re going to put on your good boy pants and do what you’re told.” Hobbs put it bluntly. “Whatever bee you’ve got in your bonnet...squash it.”
“You’re the boss,” Shaine said, mock-saluting Hobbs.
“Try to remember that,” Hobbs growled as he headed out the door. “Damn Kellys. Always a pain in the ass.”
“You must have me mixed up with my brothers, Sawyer or Silas. I’m the nice one, in case you were confused,” Shaine called out, but Hobbs was already gone.
Shaine rubbed at the slick table veneer. Time to focus.
And pretend that the one woman he’d ever loved—and who’d subsequently trashed his heart—wasn’t about to be his partner.
* * *
“What was that all about?” Marcus asked as soon as they left the FBI building. “You know Agent Dickwad or something?”
“No,” Poppy answered quickly, not interested in sharing details. “But I know his type and I don’t have time for his games. He thinks because he’s some brilliant undercover agent that he gets to call all the shots, and that just rubs me the wrong way.”
“I get it, but you have to work with him. We can’t let anything get in the way of this case. If you can’t be objective, you need to bow out.”
Poppy shot Marcus a dark look. “Not going to happen. I worked my ass off to qualify for this case. I’m not about to give it up over some FBI agent with a bloated ego. I’ll be fine.”
She knew Marcus was right and that, unlike her, he was being honest, but there was no way in hell she was walking away from this case, not even if she had to work with the devil himself.
Which in this case, was nearly true.
Shaine Kelly.
Why him?
Because he was, simply, damn good at his job.
Of course, the brass wanted him working this case.
Shaine Kelly closes cases.
Shaine Kelly doesn’t get shot.
A phantom pain pierced her chest at the exact spot where a bullet had ripped through her flesh two years ago, narrowly missing her heart.
She tried not to think about how close she’d come to dying that night. Fear clouded judgment.
And she had a lot to prove.
To whom?
Don’t say Shaine, an inner voice hissed as a familiar hurt threatened to boil to the surface.
Marcus, seemingly satisfied with her answer, moved on. That was what she liked about him—he didn’t dwell or dig. Best quality in a man as far as she could tell.
Too bad he was gay.
“Ever think of transferring to the main headquarters here in Washington?” Marcus asked as they climbed into the rental car to head to their hotel. “The weather is a bitch, but it would be nice to be so close to the movers and shakers, you know?”
“I like Los Angeles,” she answered, which wasn’t entirely true. She hated the frivolous culture and the self-absorbed people that seemed to flock to Hollywood trying to find their big break, but there was no shortage of action in the LA office, which had enabled her to make her own reputation.
Marcus, a transplant from the Seattle division, had his eyes on the chain of command. He made no bones about wanting to move up the ladder. “Closing this case will look damn good on our résumés,” he pointed out with a grin. “I heard there’s a potential opening in the New York field office. It’s not headquarters but it’s a step closer, right?”
“You planning to hop, skip and jump right into the chief deputy’s position?” she joked.
Marcus grinned. “Not saying it isn’t on my radar. Gotta have big dreams, Jones. If your dreams don’t scare you, they ain’t big enough.”
“Such a philosopher. Let’s focus on closing this case first.”
Marcus chuckled, his gray eyes bright with the big dreams in his head, content to let the subject go.
Poppy knew all about big dreams—and their cost.
They say to aim for the moon, for even if you miss you’ll land among the stars. But what they don’t tell you is that what goes up, must come down, and the landing was a bitch.
Leaving Shaine was necessary, but it’d hurt more than taking that bullet.
But she couldn’t stay with someone who wouldn’t treat her as an equal.
She’d spent her life being treated as arm candy.
When she’d announced her intention to join the FBI, her family hadn’t supported her decision, saying she was too pretty to take on a job like that.
Her father, an old-school type with decidedly archaic beliefs, had been dismissive.
That’s not the future for you. God blessed