Too Late

  I didn't even have to convince her. This is already so much easier than I thought it would be.

  Asa and Sloan, happily ever fucking after.

  Fuck my father and his bullshit philosophies on love.

  "I'm not telling you again. I don't want her involved."

  Dalton--Ryan--clenches his fists and leans back in the chair, frustrated with me. "She's already involved, Luke. You're not putting her in danger--she lived there before we ever got involved." He leans forward again. "This wasn't an issue in the last job. Remember Carrie?"

  I remember Carrie. "Carrie was your project. Not mine. I've never gotten involved with a girl for the sake of an assignment, Ryan."

  He cocks an eyebrow. "But you'll get involved with one while you're on a job, just not for the job? You'll allow your feelings for her to put us both in danger?"

  I push my chair back and stand up. "I'm not putting us in danger. Nothing is going on. I don't know how many times I have to repeat that."

  I hate that he's right, but I'll never admit that to him. I face the one-way mirror of the interrogation room and stare at myself. I look tired. I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes.

  "Do you really believe that whatever is going on with her is innocent? That it isn't putting us at risk in some way?" Ryan says. "Did you not attack Jon--Asa's best friend--because he was kissing Sloan last night?"

  I find his reflection in the mirror and I eye him hard. "Kissing her?" I spin around and face him. "He was about to rape her, Ryan! What'd you want me to do, walk back outside and double down on the fucking poker game?"

  I face the mirror again and watch him. He knows he would have done the same thing if he had walked in on that.

  It's fitting that we're doing this inside an interrogation room at a nearby precinct, because this case review is starting to feel just like an interrogation.

  We're both quiet for a while. I run my hands down my face and sigh.

  "How is leading this girl to believe I have feelings for her going to help this case?"

  Ryan shrugs. "I don't know. It might not help. But it's worth a shot. Especially since you already seem to have some sort of friendship with her that she values. Her guard would be down around you. She might tell you things in confidence that we don't already know."

  He stands up and walks around the table, then leans against it.

  Technically, he's my superior. I have to remind myself of that sometimes with the way we have to interact and with as many undercover jobs as we've done together. He's been doing this about five years longer than I have and I know he knows what he's talking about. As much as I don't want to admit it.

  "I'm not asking you to fall in love with the chick. I'm not even asking you to pretend you love her. All I'm asking is that you take advantage of her feelings for you. For the sake of this investigation."

  "And how do I do that?" I ask. "Asa is always around. It would be more dangerous for us to get her involved."

  "There are ways," Ryan says. "You have class with her today. Start there. I know she goes to visit her brother on Sundays. Go with her this Sunday."

  I laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure Asa would be absolutely fine with that."

  "He won't know. He mentioned something to Jon about us all going to the casino Sunday. We'll be gone all day. Just pretend you have something else to do and offer to go with Sloan instead. You'll get a full day with her, uninterrupted and unmonitored by anyone who knows him."

  I know I should tell him no. But the truth of the matter is, I'd offer to go with Sloan whether it helped the case or hurt it. That's how pathetic I've become at my job lately. Nothing should come before the job. Especially someone on the other side of the job.

  "Fine," I say. I grab my jacket and pull it on. Before I open the door to exit, I pause. I slowly turn and face him. "How did you know I have class with her?"

  Ryan grins. "She's the hottie from Spanish, Luke. I'm not an idiot." He grabs his own jacket and pulls it on. "Why the fuck do you think you were signed up for that class?"

  I'm still shaking when I walk into the building. It's been hours since the incident with Asa, but I'm still sick over it. I've never been that scared. Not even last night when Jon was on top of me with a knife to my throat.

  I can't believe I said Carter's name out loud while I slept. Not only could I have gotten myself in a serious situation with Asa--I could have been responsible for whatever Asa would have done to Carter.

  I don't know how I recovered from that one as well as I did. And thank fuck Carter's name rhymes with harder.

  But one thing I'm not relieved about is what happened afterward. The things Asa said to me. Him bringing marriage into it.

  Him not using a condom.

  I don't know what Asa does when I'm not around. I've never been told he cheats on me other than what Jon said last night, but I don't even know what he meant by that. I've also never caught him cheating, but I don't trust him enough to put my health and my life at risk.

  But that happened this morning and it's at the forefront of my mind. The second it turned 8:oo a.m., I called my doctor and made an appointment for next week to be tested. I'm on the pill and I take it religiously, so I'm not at all worried about him getting me pregnant. But I am worried about everything else he could give me.

  I'll try not to think about it until next week. And I'll do whatever I can to make sure that doesn't happen again. I was just honestly too scared for my life to say anything this morning. I've never seen him look at me with so much hatred as he did when he thought he heard me moan Carter's name.

  When he did hear me moan Carter's name.

  Before I walk to class to face Carter, I stop by the bathroom and try to calm myself down. Now that I'm not in the same house with Asa, I can breathe easier. But I have no idea how to ensure I don't talk in my sleep again. If it means just never sleeping in the presence of Asa again, I'll figure out a way to do that.

  When I'm finished in the bathroom and walk out into the hallway, the first thing I see is Carter, propped up near the door of our classroom.

  He's waiting for me.

  When he sees me, he stands up straight and waits for me to reach him.

  "You okay?" he says, his eyes immediately falling to my neck. There are bruises there from what Jon did to me last night, but it'll probably look even worse by the end of today, thanks to what Asa did this morning.

  God, what kind of fucking life am I living right now that I'm choked by two different men in the span of twelve hours?

  "I'm fine," I say unconvincingly.

  Carter lifts his hand and touches a finger to my throat. "It's bruised," he says. "Did Asa notice?"

  He runs the back of one of his fingers across my neck. I know it's out of concern, but whenever he makes any sort of contact with me at all--no matter the reason--I seem to forget just how capable I am of actually feeling things. I've learned to numb myself over the past couple of years with Asa, and Carter negates all that effort.

  "He noticed, but he wasn't suspicious. He thought he did it himself."

  My words cause Carter to flinch. His eyes flick back to mine. "Sloan," he whispers, shaking his head. He pulls his hand away from my neck and runs it through his hair. I can see the roll of his throat as he swallows back what looks like pure hatred at the thought of Asa's hands on me. He's obviously worried about me, which I completely understand. But he also knows why I stay, and he doesn't seem to judge me for it. He actually understands my situation and sympathizes with it. I like that about him--his empathy.

  Something Asa has probably never felt for anyone his whole life.

  Carter lays a gentle hand on my elbow. "Come on. Let's get our seats." He makes an attempt to direct me toward the door, but I pull back.

  "Carter, wait."

  He turns around to face me again, stepping aside to let two students enter. I glance down the hallway to the left and then to the right. "I have to tell you something."

  Concern overtakes whatever residual a
nger he felt. He nods and leads me down the hallway, away from the door, looking for somewhere more private. We pass another door and he checks the window, then the doorknob. It turns, so he pulls open the door and leads me inside.

  It's an empty music room, flanked with various instruments against one wall and several desks arranged in a circle in the middle of the room. When the door closes behind us and we finally have privacy, I expect Carter to ask me what I need to tell him. Instead, as soon as I turn around, he pulls me to him, wrapping his arms tightly around me, cradling my head against his shoulder.

  He hugs me.

  That's all he does. He hugs me tightly without a word, yet I can feel everything he's saying. And I realize that since last night--since everything that happened with Jon--he's probably been worried sick about me. He probably wanted to hug me and reassure me last night. As soon as he saw me this morning. But simple hugs aren't so simple in my life.

  I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his shirt, inhaling the subtle hint of his cologne. He smells like the beach. I close my eyes and wish we were there. Away from all this bullshit.

  We stand in silence for several minutes, neither of us moving. After a while, I can't tell who is hugging whom--who is holding whom. It's like we're both barely suspended, clinging to each other, afraid we might fall down if either of us lets go.

  "I said your name in my sleep," I whisper, slicing through the silence.

  Carter immediately pulls back and looks at me. "Did he hear you?"

  I nod. "Yes. But I think I covered it pretty well. I told him he misheard me--that I said something else. But he was really angry right after it happened, Carter. Angrier than I've ever seen him. And I just...I thought you should know. I think we need to be more careful. I mean, I know there's nothing really going on between us, but--"

  Carter interrupts and says, "Isn't there, though? I know we technically haven't acted on it, but this isn't innocent, Sloan. If Asa even knew I had class with you..."

  "Exactly," I say.

  Carter nods, knowing what this means. He can't talk to me at the house. Hell, he shouldn't even look my direction anymore. After what happened early this morning, Asa will be suspicious, even though he believed me. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble for Carter, but it seems I've already done that.

  "I'm sorry," I say to him.

  "Why are you apologizing? Because you had a dream about me?"

  I nod.

  Carter lifts a hand to my cheek and the corner of his mouth lifts into a grin. "If we're apologizing for that, then I owe you about a dozen apologies already."

  I bite my cheek to hide my smile. He drops his hand and presses it against the small of my back. "We'll be late if we don't hurry."

  I laugh a little at the thought of being tardy. What weight does being late for class hold against all the other shit that's going on in our lives? Very, very little. But he's right.

  I follow him out the door and back down the hallway toward the classroom. Before we walk inside, he leans down and whispers, "For what it's worth, you look really beautiful today. I kind of can't catch my breath."

  He keeps walking, despite the fact that his words have frozen my feet to the floor.

  That's all those were. Words. A few simple words strung together, but they held just enough power to physically stop me in my tracks.

  My hand goes up to my mouth as I quietly inhale. I force away the smile that wants to break out and I somehow force my feet to walk into the classroom. I glance up and see Carter pulling two chairs out on the top row, so I make my way up to him.

  My knees feel like they're about to fail me. This is how it should be. This is how guys should make girls feel.

  Why the hell did I ever give Asa the time of day?

  When I reach my seat, he's still standing, waiting for me to sit down first. I give him a quick smile as a thank-you and take my seat. I take my books out of my bag and he does the same. The professor walks in just as we're settled. He turns and begins writing on the board.

  Screamed a little too much at the football game last night. Lost my voice. Go through chapters 8-10 and we'll catch up on lecture next week.

  Half of the class laughs at the note. The other half groans. Carter opens his book to the right page. I lean forward and open mine and begin reading. I don't get far before Carter grabs a pen and begins writing a note. I'm giddy with anticipation, hoping it's for me and he's not actually taking notes for class.

  I don't even feel guilty. I should feel guilty about this. Especially since Asa sort of proposed to me this morning, and out of fear for my own life, I was forced to say yes.

  This is so fucked up. I'm going to hell.

  Actually...I might already be in hell. Most of the time this life feels more like a punishment for something horrible I must have done in a previous life. Until Carter came along, at least. I don't remember much that has ever made me excited about life before he recently entered it.

  Carter slides the note to me. It's folded in half, so I lift the paper and read what he wrote. I expect something random, like the game we've played in class before. Instead, it's just a simple request.

  Put your hand under the table.

  I read it twice before looking at my hands. The note is a little random, but not like the game I showed him. It's only random because I'm confused by it. I slip the note under my book and then lower my hand under the table and wait for him to hand me whatever it is he has.

  To my surprise--he doesn't give me anything. His warm palm slides against mine and he threads our fingers together, resting our hands on my thigh.

  And then he returns his focus to his textbook, resuming his reading like he didn't just attempt to set me on fire.

  That's exactly what it feels like--my hand wrapped in his--him touching my leg. I feel like someone needs to douse me with water. My heart begins to race and I feel like my whole body is tingling.

  He's holding my hand.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  I didn't know holding hands could feel better than a kiss. Better than sex. Sex with Asa, at least.

  I close my eyes and focus on the weight of his hand against mine. The width of his fingers between mine. The way his thumb occasionally runs back and forth.

  After probably fifteen minutes of pretending to read the textbook in front of me, he pulls his hand from mine. He doesn't release me, though. He just begins to make circles with his fingertips against my palm. He traces every part of my hand, my palm, my fingers, between my fingers. With every minute that passes, my mind begins to wonder what those fingers would feel like against my leg. My neck. My stomach.

  My breathing grows heavier. I begin to take in shorter breaths with each minute closer we get to the end of class.

  I don't want class to end. I never want it to end.

  When he's explored every part of my hand twice over, his fingers slide to my leg. He begins to stroke my knee, about three inches up the inside of my leg, and back down to my knee. My eyes are closed and I'm gripping the book in my hands. He does this for several more minutes, driving me completely insane, almost to the point that I might have to get up and go to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face.

  But I don't, because somehow the fifty minutes of class are up and everyone is packing up to leave.

  I find the strength to open my eyes and glance up at him. He's staring at me, his gaze narrowed, eyes heated, wet lips that I can't seem to look away from. He grabs my hand again and squeezes. "I know I shouldn't..."

  I shake my head. "You shouldn't."

  I'm not even sure what he was about to say, but I have an idea of where his mind is at right now, because mine is right there with his.

  "I know," he says. "I just...I can't be this close to you and not touch you."

  "And I can't not let you."

  He inhales a deep breath, then releases it at the same time he releases my hand. He gathers his book and shoves it inside his backpack. He stands up and throws the backpack
over his shoulder. I look up at him and he's staring down at me. I wait for him to say goodbye or walk away, but he doesn't.

  We stare at each other for a few more seconds before he drops his backpack and falls back down in his seat. He wraps his hand in my hair and presses his forehead against the side of my head. I have no idea what he's doing, but the desperation in the way he's pressed against me makes me wince.

  "Sloan," he whispers, his mouth directly over my ear. "I want everything about you. So goddamn much. To the point that it's blinding me."

  I gasp at his words.

  "Please be careful," he says. "Until I can help you get out of there. I don't know when that'll be, but please. Be very, very careful."

  I squeeze my eyes shut when he presses a kiss to the side of my head. What I wouldn't give for those lips to be pressing against my mouth right now.

  How can I have this many feelings for someone I just met? For someone I haven't even kissed yet? For someone who is mostly everything I want, but also involved with everything I despise?

  "If I come to your house tonight, I'm not even going to look in your direction," he says. "But know that you're all I see. You're all I fucking see, Sloan."

  He releases me as quickly as he grabbed hold of me. He picks up his backpack again and stands up. I hear him walk away and I'm still sitting completely immobile, my eyes closed, my heart thrashing around inside my chest.

  I want more of whatever it is he makes me feel. But I want it away from here. Away from this town. Away from Asa. I know Carter wants me to leave and I want to. I want to so bad, but I have to be more prepared for that to be able to happen. And if I leave--Carter has to leave, too. Not only does he need to sever ties with Asa, but I need him to sever ties with this corrupt lifestyle Asa has created.

  We both need to leave.

  Before it's too late...

  I've never been the kind of guy who deals with excess bullshit. Another piece of wisdom my father taught me.

  "If it doesn't benefit you, it shouldn't fucking matter to you."

  That's probably the best piece of advice he ever gave me. I apply that wisdom to every aspect of my life. My friendships. My business partners. My education. My empire.

  Yes, I said empire. I'm not quite there yet, but props to positive thinking and all that bullshit, right?