The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(109)

I lean against the door when I make it inside. My emotions are all over the place. Being near Roman makes me forget what I’m really here for. That’s dangerous. It’s also extremely stupid. Roman’s a job. I’m here to find evidence on him and save my brother. It’s that simple. The rest is just static. I can’t allow it to get to me. I can’t allow Roman to get to me. After giving myself a pep talk, I start walking up the stairs to my apartment when a hand reaches out and grabs me from behind. I scream before I can stop myself and years of training takes over. I step into my attacker, deliver an elbow back into his solar plexus. I hear a male grunt and I reach behind my head and wrap my arms around my attacker’s neck, flipping him over my shoulder. He lands with a thud, groaning and still holding his stomach.

“Told you not to sneak up on her, rookie,” I hear Paul say from my left.

The adrenaline is still surging through me, but that’s when I can recognize the guy on the floor as one of the main officers who work underneath Paul.

“What the hell are you two doing here? Are you trying to blow my cover?”

“Gee, Ana, it’s not like we planned on you bringing that slime back home with you. I told you, kid, you’re skating on thin ice here.”

“Back off, Paul. I’m doing what I have to do to make sure my brother survives this shit.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” the man on the floor wheezes as he gets up. I instantly want to knock him back down.

“What do you want? You do realize Roman could be having me watched?”

“You’re safe. We’ve cleared all the security.”

“Whatever. Tell me what you did. Before we got here, Roman got a call that something had happened. He mention deaths. Why did he mention deaths, Paul?”

“We raided the warehouse. There were more guards there than we anticipated. They surprised a few of our men. It had to be done.”

“No, it didn’t. Why are you doing that? I thought the reason I’m undercover is so we can know what property to check into and not do stupid shit and get people killed. People like my brother!”

“I thought that was the reason you were here too, Ana. But it seems to me the reason is all about you f*cking the enemy now.”

“You need to step back, Paul. I’m doing what I have to do to take care of my brother and do my job. You may not like it, but you better damn well respect me and keep your judgments to yourself,” I growl, having enough of the shit he keeps dishing out. It may be frowned on, but if I was a male officer, it wouldn’t even be a question. He’d be patting me on the back. “I am doing my job, and if you would just let me work and give me time, then maybe we wouldn’t have to kill innocent people!”

“They’re not innocent, Ana. They’re felons. Scum of the earth that are supplying drugs to—”

“They are human beings and one of them had a wife and a mother. Last I checked, our job was to protect and serve, not kill and leave lying and shrug it off.”

“If you’re done being on your high horse, I don’t have much time here.”

My stomach churns with the look on Paul’s face. Why had I never noticed this side of him before? Something about his whole attitude makes me feel like my skin is crawling. Something is just… off.

“Say it,” I tell him, just wanting him to leave. He hands me a small packet of white powder. I look at it like it’s a snake, one that’s about to bite me and pump my body full of poison. “What the f*ck is this?”

“Coke.”

I blanch, physically jarred from his answer, even if I knew what it was. “Why are you giving this to me?” I whisper, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach only getting worse.

“You need to plant that on Anthes.”

“Plant? What are you talking about?”

“The f*cking weasel keeps covering his tracks and he slips through every f*cking trap we set. We get him on possession, he’ll get out, but it will give us all the ammo we need to get a judge to give the okay to take a fine-tooth comb to his businesses and anything else. It will give us time to sweep in and tear apart his business piece by piece.”

“Paul, that’s … what you’re asking me to do …”

“Before you go all moral, that’s just enough to cap him for possession. It’s enough to get our f*cking foot in the door. It will save your brother. The quicker we get Anthes locked up, the quicker we can find your brother.”

“But…” I try and argue, but my tongue feeling too heavy for my mouth and refuses to form words. My heart is beating erratically and I am about two steps away from a panic attack.

“Your brother is running out of time, Ana. Do you really want to be the reason for his death?” he asks, then motions to the guy with him. They leave me standing there looking like I was just in a train wreck and holding an eight ball of coke and wondering how the f*ck I got here.





I jerk awake in bed and reaching for the pistol I keep under my pillow. I grab the butt of the grip, wrapping my fingers around it, when a large hand clamps down making it so I can’t move.

“Jesus Christ, Ana. You keep a gun under your f*cking pillow?”

I go deathly still in the dark of my bedroom. “Roman?”