Kimberly Van Meter - Deep Cover

“Damn it, Mom,” she muttered, pulling away with a curse. “Just stop.”

“What did I say?”

“You always turn it around back on me. As if I should be thinking of everyone else when no one seems to give a damn about how I feel about the situation. Shaine is just as bad as you, demanding that I give up a career I love without considering how doing so would kill me faster than any bullet. If you can’t support me, then stop pretending that you care. I’m done with all of you.”

“Poppy Jones, what has gotten into you? You were never this aggressive, or so rude. This job has changed you and not for the better.” Dottie gathered her purse, her upper lip stiff. “I hope you come to your senses soon. Otherwise, I just don’t think my heart can take it. I didn’t raise my daughter to want a career she’s so ill-suited for.”

Ill-suited? she’d wanted to scream. I was top of my class in Quantico, ranked in the top five in intelligence training and broke the record for fastest time running the eight-mile Hell Run.

But none of that mattered to her parents, which was why Poppy hadn’t bothered.

A sigh escaped her parted lips as she roused herself from that terrible memory. Moving away from DC, leaving behind everything she’d ever known, had been her only choice.

Facing Shaine after their breakup would’ve been a torture she wasn’t up to and having to listen to her parents berate her for her choices would’ve been the straw that broke her.

Since moving to LA, her relationship with her parents remained stilted. She made obligatory phone calls now and then just to check in, but for the most part Poppy had cut ties.

It’d been easier that way.

She liked to think that it was easier for her parents, too.

A kindness.

Now they no longer had to lament the fact that their only daughter had become a “ballbusting man-hater” as her father liked to put it, and her mother didn’t have to hide her head in shame when her nosy, gossipy nurse friends pestered her for why Poppy hadn’t married or had kids by now.

For cripes’ sake, they weren’t living in the ’50s.

But you’d never know it from the way her parents were acting.

The truth was, she could probably forgive her parents for their ignorant thinking, but she could never forgive Shaine for his.

Up until this moment, Poppy had managed to shove Shaine and everything that came with the memory of their time together into the deepest, darkest, most remote part of her brain.

But that all changed the minute he was assigned to her case.

And yes, it was her case.

El Escorpion was a DEA target and the FBI was assisting, as far as Poppy was concerned.

Maybe she did have something to prove, but one thing she knew for certain—Poppy wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, get in her way of closing this case.

Not even Shaine Kelly.

* * *

Shaine walked into the slick, upscale strip bar Lit, where he and Poppy were supposed to be embedded, and observed the crowd, his body loose but his observation skills sharp.

The blast of cool air was a welcome respite from the sticky Miami heat, but the place was crowded with half-dressed people with banging bodies. The bar should’ve been named Sin because that’s what oozed from the walls.

He grinned suggestively at hot women, allowing his gaze to linger as if he wanted to imagine what it would be like to run his hands up and down those smoking curves, but actually, he was simply taking in the scene, gauging who may or may not be someone he needed to put on his radar.

Shaine’s gaze snagged on the raised platform where the dancers were dominating the floor, and he realized with a grim start that some of the girls were topless. And while he enjoyed the view, he knew that Poppy was going to be up on that stage and he didn’t like that idea at all.

Suck it up.

Poppy wasn’t anything to him. Just another agent undercover.

He shouldn’t care if she was gyrating on a pole as naked as the day she was born, as long as she was doing her job.

He’d have to forget about all the times that lithe body had been pressed against his, her high breasts pushed into his face as they did things that were probably illegal in some states.

Sweat popped along his hairline and he swore under his breath at how easily he was breaking character the moment something involving Poppy entered into his brain.

Nice way to get yourself killed, hotshot.

Get over it. Poppy was old news.

This case could catapult his career and he aimed to make that happen.

Plus, on a personal note, he hated drug dealers.

Scum of the earth getting fat on the misery of others.

Shaine approached the bar, needing a drink for multiple reasons, but the biggest being his need to scope out Angelo Costa.

Angelo, the man in charge of the bar, looked as slick as everything else in the place. Dark hair, darker eyes, and if it weren’t for the hard glint in his eyes, one could almost call him pretty.

Shaine knew right away that if he was going to get into the inner circle, getting tight with Angelo was going to be the key.

Depositing himself casually at the bar, he ordered a beer and then swiveled back around to survey the crowd.

Angelo delivered the beer with a comment. “You new to the area? I haven’t seen you around.”

He was assessing Shaine as much as Shaine was assessing Angelo. It was a game—a game Shaine knew well.

A thrill raced his spine.

This was the exciting part. And it was the most dangerous.

If everything was going to fall to shit, it would fall to shit right then and there.

Shaine grinned as he swept up his beer for a swig. “You could say that. But you’re going to see a lot more of me. I’m your new bartender.” He extended his hand for a quick shake. “The name’s Rocco Pacheco. This place always jumping?”

Angelo shrugged. “What can I say, it’s a smokin’ club. So you’re the new hire. Gotta say we don’t usually hire sight unseen. But you come with a hot résumé. Not many people leave Grind. What gives?”

“Let’s just say the owner and I had a difference in opinion.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He thought I should stop banging his wife. I disagreed.”

Angelo laughed, shaking his head. “Ohh, you brave. Or stupid. Was she worth it?”

“I don’t do anything that’s not worth my time.”

“All right, yeah, yeah, I feel you. But the question is, do you learn from your mistakes?”

“Are you asking am I going to sleep with the boss’s wife? Then, yeah, I’ve learned my lesson.”

Angelo seemed amused. “Sounds like you’ll fit right in. So before you left Grind, what brought you to Miami?”

“You’re looking at it. I like my women fast, my liquor expensive and a beautiful beach on which to nurse my hangover. Miami seemed the perfect place.”

“Then you did come to the right place. But if you have a taste for expensive liquor, what’s with the cheap beer?”

“I said I liked expensive liquor, I didn’t say I could afford it. At least not yet.”

“I like your style, kid. I think you’ll fit in real well.”

So far so good. But it could all be smoke and mirrors. If Lit was, in fact, the hub where El Escorpion was peddling Bliss, chances were Angelo was involved. And if that was the case, it was imperative that Shaine get in tight with the man.

“So where’s the action?” Shaine asked, appearing hungry and horny. “I’m ready for a good time.”

“I doubt you need my help. Just flash those pearly whites and you’ll be glommed by women looking to put their stamp on you,” Angelo said with an enigmatic smile.

“Yeah sure, but you seem the kind of guy who would know the real scene.”