fighting their prejudice. I didn’t come here to win their approval. They can talk shit about me. They can assume I’m going to fail. I don’t give a fuck. All I need is to be on this case. It’s the only reason I put up with this shit.
It hurts though. I’m woman enough to admit it. I want companionship. I want to feel like I belong. But right now, I have no one. I try to call my mom every once in awhile, but that’s just depressing as hell. I’m most concerned with the fact that I don’t know what happiness is anymore. I don’t know what I expected. But this isn’t it. I was so shortsighted with wanting to get here that I didn’t think things through all the way.
The reality is a swift kick in the ass.
Harrison pushes past me just as I get to the door to the interrogation room. Fucker holds it open for me though, like he’s a gentleman. I give him a tight smile and walk in first.
I almost stop when I see the hulking man in the metal chair. An air of power surrounds him. His hands are clasped in front of him and they're resting on the table. He doesn’t bother to look up at us. His dark, thick hair is longer on top than it is on the sides, just long enough to grip onto. It tempts me; it excites the wilder side of me that I usually keep suppressed.
He’s in a simple white t-shirt that stretches tight over his shoulders, and faded blue jeans. I’ve never seen a man who could make those casual clothes look so fucking hot. His arms are all thick, corded muscle, and they flex as Harrison walks in front of me and stands across from him. Dark tattoos scroll down his left arm. I find myself itching to touch them, and wonder how much of his body they cover.
The younger me would have drooled over this man, but I know better now. Men like him cause more trouble than they’re worth. And he’s a member of the strongest familia on this side of the country. He’s a Valetti. He’s trouble.
“Valetti.” Harrison’s nose scrunches as he sits in the seat across from the sexy-as-fuck suspect. I stand with my back against the wall. I don’t want to go near those two knowing what Harrison is up to. I’m not afraid to get into it if I have to. I can hold my own, regardless of how big and how scary my opponent is. But I’m not fucking stupid. I avoid physical altercations if I can. And Harrison has a smart mouth and likes to push people.
He likes to take advantage of these situations and get them to act out so he can put them in the cells and threaten a heavier sentence. It’s not a move I’d make. But I try not to judge other officers' tactics. I try. Never said I was perfect though.
The man, Thomas Valetti, raises his head slowly. His full lips tip into a slight smirk and his blue eyes hold a hint of humor. “Detective. Nice to see you again.”
His voice sends a throbbing need to my clit, and for the first time since I’ve taken this job, I question if I really am cut out for it. I’ve never once been attracted to the fucked-up criminals that come and go in here. But right now, right here? Fuck. He’s hot. My body can’t deny that. I have to work really hard to keep the embarrassment off my face. I’m a professional. I’m a cop now. I need to put my hormones in check.
I try to ignore the pulsing need between my thighs and I clear my throat to help settle myself.
The action causes both men to look at me. Thomas’ eyes roam my body, but not in a way I find rude or offensive. He’s just sizing me up. I half-expect him to make some sexist comment, like most thugs do. I can feel my defenses go up.
His eyes reach mine and I wait for it. I wait for the dismissal. The demeaning comments I’m constantly used to getting.
Instead Harrison interrupts, “I won’t stop until you go away for life.”
The corners of Thomas’ lips kick up slightly as he turns to face Harrison, leaving me with nothing. “Sorry, Detective. I’m just waiting for my lawyer.”
Harrison looks at me from the corner of his eyes like it’s my fault that Thomas