Too Late Page 6

  "Sloan's not a fucking whore!" I yell.

  Jon pulls himself up off the floor, then proceeds to bow up to me like the idiot that he is. "She's not? Guess you found out why she was on Ricker today. She wasn't off fucking some guy like you thought?"

  I lunge forward and punch him in his goddamned filthy mouth. He falls to the floor and I kick him in the ribs. I drop to my knees and try to punch him again, but Dalton and Carter are pulling me off of him before I have the chance. He scoots away from me and wipes at his bloody mouth. He looks down at his hand and back up at me.

  "Fucking bastard," he says.

  "Funny. That's the same thing your girlfriend called me when I pulled my dick out of her throat."

  Jon scrambles to his feet and lunges forward again, so I step into his swing, allowing him to square me in the jaw. Carter steps between us, pushing him back against the fridge while Dalton tightens his grip on my arms.

  "Go upstairs!" Carter says to him. "Go check on Jess and calm the fuck down."

  Jon nods and Carter releases him. Dalton doesn't let go of me until Jon clears the stairs.

  I push my hand against my jaw and pop my neck. "I'll be out back. Let me know as soon as Sloan gets here."

  Asa walks out the back door and I grip the back of my neck and squeeze.

  "Shit!"

  "I know," Dalton says, not having any clue as to what's actually going through my mind at the moment.

  "I need to make a phone call," I tell him. "Wait in here and make sure they don't get into it again." I walk out the front door and head straight to my car. I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll through the numbers, checking for Sloan's. Dalton said he entered everyone's number who lives here into my phone once I was assigned this job. I scroll through the S's but don't see her name. Just as I'm about to throw my phone out of frustration, the contact Asa's girl catches my eye. I press it. I press it over and over, willing it to dial faster.

  I hold the phone to my ear and listen as it rings. On the fourth ring, she finally picks up.

  "Hello?"

  "Sloan!" I say her name desperately.

  "Who is this?"

  "It's Lu...Carter. It's Carter."

  She sighs heavily into the phone.

  "No, don't hang up," I say, hoping she holds on long enough to hear I'm not just calling her to apologize again. "He knows. He knows you went to lunch today on Ricker Road."

  She doesn't say anything for several quiet seconds.

  "You told him?" she asks, her voice full of hurt.

  "No. No, I would never...I heard Jon say something about finding out who you were with at lunch. He doesn't know it was me."

  I glance behind me, making sure I'm still in the clear. Dalton is standing at the window watching me.

  "But...how could he know?" she asks, fear in her voice.

  "Maybe he tracks your phone," I say. "Where are you?"

  "I just left the gym. I'm five minutes away. Carter, what do I do? He'll kill me."

  The fear in her voice makes me regret every second of today. I should have never put her in this situation.

  "Listen to me. The box of pizza is still in my back seat. I'll keep him occupied out back. When you get here, grab the pizza and bring it to the backyard. Act like you have nothing to hide. Tell him you were hungry so you went out to a restaurant for lunch and bought a pizza and then offer us some. If you bring it up first, you should be fine."

  "Okay," she says, breathing heavily. "Okay."

  "Okay," I say back.

  Several silent seconds pass and my pulse slowly begins to regulate.

  "Sloan?"

  "Yeah?" she whispers.

  "I won't let him hurt you."

  She's quiet for a moment. I hear her sigh, then the call is dropped. I look down at my phone and take a deep breath, then head inside.

  "Who was that?" Dalton asks, eyeing me curiously when I walk back through the door. "Hottie from Spanish?"

  I nod. "Yep. I'm going out back. You want to help me calm Asa down?"

  Dalton falls into step behind me. "Looks like you're the one who needs calming down," he says.

  I swing open the door and Asa is seated on a lounge chair by the pool, drumming his fingers on his knees. I take a seat next to him and kick my feet back, attempting to appear as relaxed as my nerves will allow me. I don't care if he finds out it was me who was with her at lunch. I don't care if he follows through with his threat. All I care about is that he doesn't lay another finger on Sloan.

  Dalton and I keep Asa occupied with talk about an upcoming deal he wants to make. A while later, we hear Sloan pull into the driveway. I can see Asa tense up and he clamps his mouth shut mid-sentence. He starts to pull himself up, I assume to go meet her in the front yard. I do whatever it takes to distract him.

  "So, this Jess chick?" I say.

  He turns toward me. "What about her?"

  "Just curious. Can she really deep throat?" Even just having to pretend I'm interested makes me feel like an asshole.

  Asa smiles and opens his mouth to respond when the back door swings open. Sloan walks outside with a pizza box in her hand. I can feel the anger seeping off of Asa as his hands ball into fists.

  "Hey, guys," she says, sauntering toward us. "Anyone hungry? I have leftovers." She holds out the pizza box and keeps the smile plastered on her face.

  Dalton jumps up and meets her, grabbing the box out of her hands. "Hell yeah," he says, taking a slice. He hands the box to me, so I grab one, too. I hand the box to Asa just as Sloan takes a seat on the lawn chair with him. She leans in to kiss him, but he pulls back.

  "Where'd you get this?" he asks, closing the lid to read the top of it. She shrugs, careful not to look at me at all. "Some Italian place. One of my classes was cancelled today and I was hungry, so I grabbed lunch."

  "Alone?" he asks, setting the box on the concrete next to him.

  She smiles. "Yeah. I'm so tired of campus food." She reaches down to the box and grabs a slice. "Taste it," she says, handing it to him. "It's really good. I brought it home so you could try it."

  Asa grabs the slice of pizza out of her hands and drops it back onto the box. He leans forward and grabs Sloan by the hand, pulling her to him.

  "Come here," he says, pulling her onto his lap and grabbing the back of her head to kiss her.

  I look away. I have to.

  Asa stands up with Sloan still wrapped around him. I can see him out of the corner of my eye as he hoists her up by the ass, kissing her neck. He walks toward the house and I look up, just as she glances at me from over his shoulder. She watches me wide-eyed until he carries her through the back door and into the house; more than likely all the way up to his bed.

  I lean back in my chair and let out a huge-ass sigh, running my hands through my hair. How am I expected to just sit here, knowing what's going on in that house?

  "I wish we could bust his ass today," I say to Dalton.

  "I don't like the way she looks at you," Dalton says with a mouthful of pizza. I glance over at him and he's still staring at the back door. "She's trouble."

  I pick up the box of pizza and grab another slice. "Jealous?" I laugh, trying to appear nonchalant about his comment. "You can always have Jess. I hear Jon's a lot more generous than Asa."

  Dalton laughs and shakes his head. "These people are so fucked up."

  Not all of them.

  "I think we could use her," Dalton adds. I look over at him and can see his wheels turning.

  "Use her how?"

  "She's into you," he says, sitting straight up in his seat. "You have to use that to your advantage. Get close to her. She probably knows more about the people Asa works with than we'll ever be able to find out from our positions."

  Shit. The last thing I want to do is get her involved. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  Dalton stands up and says, "Bullshit. This is perfect. That girl is the break we've been waiting for in this case." He starts dialing a number on his phone, walking towa
rd the back door.

  Using women to get closer to cracking a case is nothing to him. He's done it in almost every job we've worked together.

  It's just not something I'm willing to do.

  But it may not be a choice that's left up to me...

  "Your heart is beating so fast," Asa says, dropping me onto the mattress.

  Of course it is. This was probably the scariest five minutes of my life, not knowing if I could pull off the lie. Thanks to Carter, it worked.

  "You kissed me the entire way through the house," I say. "Of course it's beating fast."

  Asa slides on top of me and presses his lips to mine, kissing me gently. He runs his hand through my hair, kissing down my chin and neck, until he gets to the base of my throat. He pauses and looks me straight in the eye.

  "Do you love me, Sloan?" he says, his question coming straight out of left field.

  I swallow and then nod.

  He pushes up onto the palms of his hands. "Well then, say it."

  I force a smile as I look up at him. "I love you, Asa."

  He stares at me a moment as if he has an internal lie detector and he's waiting to see if I passed. He slowly lowers himself on top of me and buries his head in my neck. "I love you, too," he says. He rolls onto his side and pulls me to him. He holds me, rubbing his hand in soft circles over my back. I don't remember the last time he touched me in this bed without it being directly related to sex. He kisses the side of my head and sighs.

  "Don't leave me, Sloan," he says firmly. "Don't you ever fucking leave me."

  The fierce yet desperate look in his eyes paralyzes me. I shake my head. "I won't, Asa."

  His eyes scroll over every inch of my face. Lying here wrapped in his arms, watching him watch me with such intensity--I don't know if I should feel loved or terrified. It's a little of both.

  He presses his mouth to mine and kisses me hard. He shoves his tongue deep into my throat like he's trying to claim every inch of me from the inside out. There's nothing tender about it, and when he tears his mouth from mine, he's gasping for breath. He lifts up onto his knees and pulls his shirt over his head. "Tell me again," he says, reaching to me and pulling both my shirt and bra over my head. "Tell me you love me, Sloan. That you'll never leave me."

  "I love you. I'll never leave you," I whisper, praying the latter will soon be a lie.

  He brings his mouth back to mine and runs his hands down my stomach until he reaches my pants. He's kissing me with such intensity, it's hard to catch my breath. He tries to pull my pants down, but he can't seem to break away from my mouth long enough to do it. I lift my hips and remove my clothes, just like the whore I've become for him.

  Because is this not the definition of a whore? Someone who compromises his or her self-respect for personal gain? Even if my personal gain is something selfless and has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my brother, it doesn't change the fact that I'm having sex with him in exchange for something. Which...by definition...makes me a whore.

  His whore.

  And from the possessive look in his eyes, that's all he'll ever allow me to be.

  There are few things worse than my sense of timing. As soon as I open the back door to walk inside the house, my ears are met with the final sound of Asa's grunts coming from upstairs. I pause in the kitchen, not even sure why I'm listening to what he's doing to her. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn, especially after knowing what he just did to Jess a matter of two hours ago.

  When I hear footsteps upstairs and the bathroom door shut, I snap out of my trance and walk to the refrigerator. There's a magnetic dry-erase board, covered in phone numbers, stuck to the front of the fridge. I grab one of the markers and press it to the board and write. Footsteps descend the stairs and I snap the marker back into place, then turn around just in time to see Asa round the corner.

  "Hey," he says. He's barefoot and the only thing he's wearing is his unbuttoned blue jeans. His hair is in disarray and he has a smug grin on his face.

  "What's up?" I lean against the counter and watch him as he walks to the cabinet and grabs a bag of potato chips. He opens it and leans against the counter across from me.

  "How'd it go last night?" he asks. "I haven't even had a chance to ask you."

  "Good," I say. "But I was curious. What if we could get to his supplier directly? There really isn't a need for a middleman anymore, if the only reason you were going through him was for translation."

  Asa pops another chip into his mouth and licks his fingers. "Why do you think I brought you in?" He sets the bag of chips down and turns to the sink, running his hands under the water. "My hands fucking taste like pussy," he says, scrubbing them with soap.

  This is one of the few moments in my career when I wish I had chosen something a little lamer. Something a little less emotionally draining. I should have been a poetry teacher.

  "How long have you been dating that girl?" I ask. Part of what I'm here for is to pry, but the only questions I seem to want to know the answers to are questions related to Sloan.

  He dries his hands on a towel and grabs the bag of chips, then takes a seat at the bar. I stay where I am.

  "A while. Two years maybe?" He shoves a handful of chips into his mouth and wipes his palm down the leg of his jeans.

  "Doesn't seem like she approves of what you do," I say, treading lightly. "You think she'd ever out you?"

  "Hell no," he quickly replies. "I'm all she has. She's got no choice but to accept it."

  I nod and grip the edge of the counter behind me. I don't trust a word that comes out of his mouth, so I'm really hoping the fact that he's all she has is just another one of his lies.

  "Just making sure," I say. "It's hard for me to trust people, if you know what I mean."

  Asa narrows his eyes and leans forward. "Don't ever trust anyone, Carter. Especially the whores."

  "I thought you said Sloan wasn't a whore," I challenge.

  He keeps his eyes locked with mine--unmoving and angry. For a moment, I'm worried he might do to me what he did to Jon earlier. Instead, he brings his hand to his jaw and pops his neck, then leans back in his seat again. The flash of anger in his eyes dissipates with the sound of Sloan's footsteps descending the stairs. She walks into the kitchen and comes to a pause when she sees both of us.

  Asa takes his eyes off me and looks at Sloan. He laughs and stands up, scooping her against him. "People have to earn my trust," he says, looking over her shoulder at me. "Sloan earned hers."

  She puts her hands against his chest and pushes against him, but he doesn't release her. He sits back down and pulls her against him so that she's standing between his legs with her back to his chest, facing me. He wraps his arms around her stomach and rests his chin on her shoulder, making eye contact with me again.

  "I like you, Carter," Asa says. "You're all business."

  I force a half-smile, gripping the counter with all my strength as I try not to look in her eyes. I can't handle the fear I see in them every time he has his hands on her.

  "Speaking of business," I say, "I'll be back in a couple of hours. I've got a few things I need to do." I straighten up and walk past Sloan and Asa toward the front door. When I do, she looks up at me with appreciation in her eyes.

  Asa bends down and kisses her neck, then lifts a hand to her breast. She squeezes her eyes shut and grimaces, then turns away from me.

  I keep walking and head for the front door, feeling completely helpless. I have to remind myself that I'm here for one reason and one reason only--and she isn't it.

  I text Dalton before I pull out of the driveway and tell him I'm going to the station to do a few write-ups. Instead, I just start driving, not having a clue as to where I'm going. I turn on the radio and try to rid the murderous thoughts I'm having of Asa, but all my other thoughts are of Sloan...and every thought I have of Sloan leads back to murderous thoughts of Asa.

  I realize I have a duty. My duty is to complete the job I'm being paid to do...w
hich is to bust the largest campus drug ring in collegiate history. The drug problem at the local university has multiplied tenfold in the past three years alone. Rumor has it that Asa is the sole reason for that. Asa and all the people in his circle, which is why Dalton and I are here--to identify the key players. Dalton and I are only a small part of this sting, but it's the small parts that make up a huge whole, and every one of our roles is vital.

  Asa is ruining countless lives and Sloan's is just one of them. I can either focus on what I'm here to do and help take down everyone involved in his entire operation, which will in turn save lives...or I can save one girl from her abusive boyfriend.

  Having to separate what I'm here to do and what I want to do makes this situation feel like General Patton's theory, how sometimes it's necessary to sacrifice the lives of the few for the good of the many.

  It feels like I'm sacrificing Sloan's life for the sake of all the others that Asa is ruining. And the thought of that kills me.

  I find myself second-guessing whether or not I'm cut out for this profession for at least the third time in the last week.

  After an hour of driving around, I decide to head back to Asa's. Dalton stays there most of the time, but he told Asa I live on campus during a conversation they had a couple of months ago. Therefore, I had to actually get an apartment on campus in case Asa ever decides to run a check on me. I'm at Asa's more often than not, though, because that's where I'll ultimately get most of the info. Well...from being around his "crew" and...possibly Sloan.

  I know Dalton is right. I know I need to utilize Sloan for the advantage of the investigation, but that would mean she would have to remain in the situation she's in. I'd much rather sneak her some cash and force her to run as far away from Asa as she can get.

  When I close in on Asa's street, I notice Sloan sitting at a park bench two blocks from their house. She's seated alone with books laid out in front of her on a picnic table. I slow down the car and pull over to the side of the road. I scope out the area, ensuring she's alone.

  I sit in my car and watch her awhile, contemplating what I should do. If I were smarter, I would keep driving and refocus my attention where it needs to be. If I were smarter, I wouldn't be shutting my car door, preparing myself to cross the street.