Dobroshi lets out a chuckle. “Me.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Yeah? Like a chauffeur?”
He nods, and surprisingly there’s zero caution on his face.
I clear my throat, then ask, “What’s the pay like?”
“How much do you need?”
“I used to make eight hundred a month.”
He nods. “I’ll start you on a thousand-five-hundred. You do a good job, and I’ll triple your pay.”
“And if I do a bad job?”
He gives me a threatening smile. “You won’t.”
I nod, then glance around us again. “When and where?”
This time he pats me on the shoulder as he chuckles again. “Here. Now.”
Chapter 11
JJ
Glancing up at the rundown apartment building, I cringe at the sight. The place can do with a coat of paint. And fumigation.
O’Brien’s plan worked, and watching him drive off with Joseph Dobroshi was unbelievably hard. Knowing he’ll be in constant danger makes the pit of my stomach burn.
He’ll make contact as soon as he can.
Gripping the box tighter, I head into the building. I give the broken elevator the stink eye and take the stairs to the fourth floor.
We both have identical one-bedroom apartments that look like something out of a horror movie. As I unlock the door and shove it open, the stale smell of accumulated dirt and old age makes me breathe through my mouth.
I’m going to incense the hell out of this place to get rid of the stink.
It takes me a couple of trips to carry some of my belongings into the apartment to give the impression I’m really moving in.
When I have everything unloaded, I glance around the small space, wondering if it’s even possible to make this home for however long it will take O’Brien to crack the case.
Pulling my wallet out of my bag, I check the fake ID Eric gave me.
Jenna Johnson, aka still JJ.
My cover is simple. I’m playing the role of an introverted girl who’s living off the meager funds she inherited from an aunt. No family. No friends. The identity is safe.
Checking the time, I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, worried because I haven’t heard from O’Brien. I’ll quickly run to the store to get a couple of things, then hunker down and wait for him.
I leave my apartment, locking the door behind me, but the moment I turn around, my eyes lock on O’Brien and Joseph Dobroshi as they come up the stairs.
Shit.
I wrap my arms around my waist, hunch my shoulders, and keep my eyes on the floor as I shuffle to the side before darting past them and down the stairs.
He’s alive.
Thank God.
I let out a relieved sigh, suppressing the urge to glance over my shoulder.
Dobroshi lets out a chuckle. “Ky vend është një hale.”
“Më thuaj diçka që nuk e di,” O’Brien mutters. I don’t understand a word but just hearing his voice makes the corner of my mouth lift.
Feeling better after laying eyes on him, I hustle to the store. In a hurry to get back, I grab the essentials, figuring I can get more stuff once I’ve spoken to O’Brien. I don’t want to waste time at a store and miss an opportunity of meeting with him.
There’s no sign of the men when I get back to my apartment, and I can’t hear anything. Letting myself in, I worry he’s already left again.
I start to clean my temporary home, determined to make it semi-liveable. I scrub every surface, then wonder if I would be risking our covers if I were to clean O’Brien’s apartment, not wanting him living in a dump.
Five soft taps at the front door have me darting up. I peek through the peephole then yank the door open. I have to suppress the urge to throw myself into O’Brien’s arms while he steps inside.
I shut the door, and unable to contain my relief, I say, “Thank God. I thought I missed you.”
He shakes his head, glancing over the boxes. “Your place looks worse than mine.”
“I’m going to bathe in sanitizer when I’m done cleaning,” I mutter.
We walk deeper into the space, and I dig up the encrypted laptop Eric gave me. I point to the couch. “Take a seat.”
Chief Archer had the apartments furnished with the essentials, so at least we don’t have to worry about that.
Sitting down, I open the laptop and go through the three security steps before getting into the program set up for communications with Eric.
My eyes dart to O’Brien, and my fingers freeze on the keyboard of the laptop. It looks like he’s fallen asleep, his head leaning back against the couch.
I take in the frown line still between his eyes. Even though he’s resting, he still looks threatening. My heart squeezes in my chest from how devastatingly attractive this man is. Add to that his broody and edgy demeanor, and I’m done for.
It feels like I was destined to love him. Only him.
Tenderness spreads warmly through my chest. I shut the laptop, and getting up, I close the distance to O’Brien. The moment I take hold of his shoulders so I can help him into a comfortable position, his eyes snap open. They lock with mine, intense as always.
“We can have the meeting after you’ve had some sleep and something to eat,” I murmur softly, my feelings clear as daylight in my voice. Realizing my mistake, I clear my throat and pull back. “I’ll fix you a sandwich.”
O’Brien’s eyes are still locked on me. Always searching.
Hoping to God he didn’t pick up on the emotion in my voice, I walk to the tiny kitchen and start to make turkey sandwiches.
“Thanks, JJ,” he finally says.
“Of course.” I let out a chuckle. “Part of the job is making sure you stay healthy.”
I plate the sandwiches and carry them back to the living room. When I hand O’Brien his food, the corner of his mouth lifts. “It’s not part of your job to make sure I eat.”
I take a seat across from him. “As your partner it is. I’ll finish unpacking while you get some sleep.”
I keep sneaking glances at him while we eat, then my eyes lock on his bicep, the sleeve of his shirt wrapped tightly around his arm.
I’ve thought it a million times before, but damn, there isn’t an inch of this man that doesn’t fill me with desire and love. The way his jaw moves while he chews… sigh.
“Are you going to be okay sitting here every day?” O’Brien asks after swallowing his last bite.
“Yes, I’m going to study languages so I can give you a run for your money,” I playfully inform him. Getting up, I take his plate, then give him a pointed look. “Sleep.”
A slow grin tugs at his mouth as he stretches out on the couch. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dear. God.
O’Brien
It takes three weeks of driving Joseph Dobroshi around like a glorified fucking chauffer before I’m allowed in on some action.
It’s just not the action I was expecting. I should’ve, though. It was no secret the Bregu syndicate deals in sex slavery… but this?
As I follow Joseph through a hallway at one of the massage parlors, the air is filled with grunts and disorientated groans. A man comes out of a room as we pass by, and when I glance inside, it’s to see a young girl cuffed to a single bed. The sheets are filthy as fuck, and she’s clearly drugged out of her mind, her hair a disheveled mess, bruises coating her clammy skin.