Page 22 of There Once was a Dancer
I leaned down and kissed him again, hating that we had to be separated even for one minute. When I finally, pulled back, I glanced at the clock and swore out loud, hating my own shortsightedness in being so caught up with the man in my arms, that I hadn’t warned Candy about the shit that’d happened last night. “I gotta go, kitten.”
His frown was priceless.
Chapter Six
REX
By the time I got to the office in the federal building, I was ready for Candy to chew my ass. I’d dropped Cachi off at his car, promising to pick him up from work when he got off at eleven-thirty and then proceeded to the office. I arrived thirty-five minutes after our phone call, which I already knew would be five minutes too long for my boss. When I walked into his office, he looked up from his desk wearing a scowl that I rarely saw on his face. The six foot four-inch man everyone called the Viking due to his bright red hair and long, red beard, was a fearsome creature.
Candy had a scar running from the corner of his eye all the way down his cheek where it disappeared into the long beard. I didn’t know how he’d gotten the scar…no one did because my boss was a very private man. I only knew he was a former Green Beret, serving in Afghanistan early on in the conflict. I wasn’t sure how old he was, but he must be at least forty if he’d joined the Army at eighteen. It made him about five years older than me, and he’d commanded my respect since the moment I’d met him. It was just the way he carried himself…like a born leader.
“Sit down!” he growled, stabbing at a chair in front of his desk. Candy’s office was what I would describe as cold and minimal. There was a large desk, bookshelves behind it, and two photos on the wall. In one of them, he was much younger. In another, he was dressed in fatigues as he stood with other men somewhere on a faraway battlefield. I could only assume the location was classified since most missions of Special Operators were.
Candy and I had met overseas when I’d been assigned to his unit who was hunting a particularly nasty terrorist. We’d located him several days after my introduction to the captain, and I’d earned his respect when I’d put a bullet through the terrorist’s brain. He’d invited me to replace his team’s sniper who’d been killed the month before and we’d worked together ever since.
As I slid into the chair, my gaze went to the five challenge coins which sat in a holder on his desk as they always did. I assumed he not only kept the coins there to remind anyone coming into the office that there were five branches in the U.S. military, but that his job as captain of Tac Team One, was one of service to everyone. The moment I opened my mouth to apologize, he held up his hand.
“Whatever you’re going to say, had better begin with why you didn’t call me immediately after the incident happened.”
I swallowed hard. “Okay, well, as you know, it was my night off and since I didn’t have work today, I decided to go out.”
“I don’t need to know about your social life,” he said, interrupting. “I need to know how you got in the middle of an attempted murder and then somehow forgot to tell me about it.”
“It wasn’t really an attempted murder, boss. It was an attempted assault which could’ve gotten a civilian killed and—” I slapped my lips shut when he growled.
“Stop fucking splitting hairs, Monroe, and tell me what the hell happened.”
I swallowed again, feeling that feeling like I always did when I disappointed Candy. He was steadfast and loyal to all of us, so when I pissed him off, it made me feel bad.
“Sorry, boss. Anyway, I was just leavin’ the club when I heard someone scream my name. I looked up from my phone andrecognized the go-go dancer runnin’ toward me. He was bein’ chased by these three thugs and—”
Candy held up his hand again. “Hang on. The go-go dancer at Dance Hall Boys is the civilian in question?”
“Yeah.”
“And he screamed at you…calling you by name?”
“Yeah. We’d met earlier in the evenin’ when these three assholes came up and started harrassin’ him. I run ‘em off and I guess they waited for him out in the parkin’ lot.”
Candy sat back and folded his hands over his taut belly. “You should have led with that.”
I frowned. “I’m…sorry?”
He glowered at me. “Start with the fact that you encountered the men who assaulted this—”
“Go-go dancer.”
He nodded, then waved his hand. “Tell me what happened inside the club. Start there.”
So, I did. I explained how I’d been talking to Cachi when these three drunk idiots came up to the cage and started calling him names and being generally disrespectful. That I’d intervened for him and thought, at the time, that they’d run off to get drunk somewhere else. Then I’d walked out of the club, heard Cachi scream out for me, and stopped the three from assaulting him again by pulling my creds, and ordered them to get on the ground.
“I see,” he said as he listened to the last of my explanation. “Now tell me why you didn’t call to report your intervention the moment you got the chance. You know what the protocolsare and you know you can be suspended for failure to report something like this to me.”
“I had to take Cachi home and—”
He held up his hand again. “Cachi’s the go-go boy?”
I nodded. “Yes, the dancer,” I snapped, irritated by the way he’d called him a boy. It made me feel my age all the more. I immediately regretted my tone after he gave me a scathing look. I cleared my throat and continued. “Anyway, Cachi was the man who was assaulted.”
