Page 93 of Isaac

"Hey. You heard anything about us cleaning up the streets or picking up some underage kids around these parts?"

Robbie shakes his head.

Fuck. Did those passports never make it to where they were supposed to go?

"All is quiet, my man," Robbie adds. "Anyway, I can’t be seen chatting with you too long. Come back in a couple of days."

"Appreciate it, dude." I knock back a dose of my drink, feeling the slight burn as it slides down my throat. In the privacy of my mind, I give myself five minutes to finish the beer and be gone.

Tossing my colleagues into the crossfire isn't exactly my thing but desperation has me cornered.

"Hey there, handsome." A female voice interrupts my thoughts, and I glance over to see a woman in her mid-thirties sidling up to me. Objectively speaking, she’s gorgeous. Smoldering eyes. Hourglass figure. Long blonde hair. "Buy you another one?" She tips her chin to my glass that’s about to become empty.

"I’m good," I tell her, trying to sound as firm but as polite as possible.

She doesn’t get the hint. "In the mood for anything else?" She leans forward, her breasts rubbing against my arm suggestively.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but you don't have what I like," I reply, trying to brush her off without causing a scene.

"Really?" She arches an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What is it that you like? I can get it for you."

I catch Robbie's eye, and he gives me a warning look. Time to shut this down. Leaning in close, I whisper a single word in her ear, "Cock."

Without saying anything else, I throw another twenty on the bar counter, turn on my heel, and walk away.

When I return to the club, it's Ricky I first run into. He’s a shifty picture of agitation, his face a weather-beaten map of exhaustion after what seems like marathon nights spent without sleep.

"You in the loop about Jess?" His voice is no more than a scratchy whisper, restricting its reach to just me and him as we stroll through the dim-lit corridor.

I nod. "She'll pull through." I don’t know that but I know that everyone is on edge and one wrong word can tip the scale and let all hell loose. "She’s in good hands."

"Shit." Ricky shakes his head and runs his large palm over his face. "I’ll kill those motherfuckers, man. I swear…when we find them."

I don’t comment. I can’t condone violence. I’m a fucking federal agent but I’m so deep in this now that I’m not certain if what I’m doing matters.

If Isaac is back in prison, who’ll look after Jeremy and his sister, or Jaheim’s family, or Señora Vargas? Who'll buy toys for the children in the church orphanage?

"Did you see the boss?" I ask Ricky.

"Saw him going to his office earlier."

"Thanks." I leave with a supportive pat on his shoulder as a sole goodbye.

This whole thing is starting to feel like a hamster wheel.

This is my thought when I knock on Purgatory’s office door.

"Come in," Isaac’s voice, muffled by the walls between us, echoes from the inside.

My heart stutters, a single hiccup in its rhythm. I'm clueless as to why. It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Isaac does something and my body responds without checking with me first if I want it.If I want this feeling in my chest, a paradoxical play of light and dark.

A single, dim lamp paints Isaac's form in rippled shadows as he lounges in his office chair when I step inside. His piercing gaze locks onto me the instant I walk in. My body tenses immediately. My stomach tightens. The air between us is electrified all of a sudden. The pulsing current of an unseen tether.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" I say, trying to sound casual. I don’t know why I’m here. Can’t explain it. I should have gone back to the hotel room. Instead, I sought him out.

Sought him out, fully aware that the more I give in, the bigger traitor I become.

Yet, there’s some sick part of me that doesn’t care.

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