Page 15 of Colton’s Secret Identity

“I’m being frank with you here, Dylan. I don’t know how much of an opportunity this really is, now that you’ve discovered we’re also dealing with Hank and your henchmen working their own slick side deal. Rex is part of something much larger, I’m certain, but I don’t have all the details as I’m sure you do. If Rex is the big player I believe him to be, do you really think he’d trust Hank with as much as Hank believes he does?”

Dylan shook his head. “No. But Rex apparently trusts you or you’d have never been hired. Rex has a reputation for diligent background work. You’ve already figured this out, no?”

She nodded, and realized that her eyelids felt so heavy. A big yawn crawled from her lungs, up her esophagus, and she opened her mouth wide before covering it with her hand. “So, what’s our plan?” Bone-weariness washed over her, making her think of nothing but her bed. Without Dylan distracting her.

“We keep things going for now. Let Hank and my guys skim off the top. We’ll play dumb about that until we can use Hank’s cheating for leverage to bring down Rex when the time is right.” He shook his head. “And boy, will we. Use it, that is. In court when this entire cartel is behind bars.”

“But until then?”

“We’ll keep chipping away at Rex and his holdings, figure out where his boss is getting his supply from. That’s the only way we’ll ever get it shut down. Otherwise they’ll shut down their ops here and disappear.”

“And wait us out until we run out of funds to fight them with.”

“Time and money are never on our side.” They shared a brief smile, their gazes meeting like in old times at the shared memory of their RGPD chief’s oft-repeated axiom.

“I need sleep, Dylan.” She stood, needing to break the tension that had begun to thrum during their brief but intense connection. Dylan followed her lead, standing and plucking his leather jacket from the back of his chair. “I’ll be in touch.”

“As Hawk?”

“None other.” He slid by her and reached for the door.

“Hang on.” She rested her hand briefly on the back of his arm. He turned back to face her. They were inches apart, and save for their pat-down yesterday, hadn’t been this close since they’d worked together in Red Grove.

You mean not since he was in your bed an hour ago.

He stopped, looked at her without turning fully back. He was committed to leaving. Of course he was. Yet the reminder of how easily he’d departed Red Grove without a backward glance still stung. What was wrong with her? Five years ago may as well be a lifetime. She wasn’t as naive as she’d been then, still able to trust that with a little hope and patience, all things would always work out for the best. More importantly, she’d realized that Dylan wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, hadn’t known her as well as she’d wanted to believe. He wouldn’t have disappeared so abruptly, wouldn’t have left her hanging.

“Yeah? What is it?” He watched her as her thoughts raced. A brow disappeared under a lock of hair that divided his forehead, the dim lighting of the apartment emphasizing the dark shadows under his eyes.

Heat exploded from her center and rushed into her face. Hopefully the dim light hid her reaction. The last thing she needed or wanted was for Dylan to think she still thought of him. Or found him attractive. She dropped her hand, took a step backward.

“I want you to know that what passed between us all those years ago isn’t going to get in my way of doing my best job now. I look forward to working alongside you, Dylan, but please understand that as much as you’ve had your share of undercover cases, I’ve had a generous share of cases under my belt, too. Neither of us are the rookies we once were.”

Now he did turn fully back to her. “I appreciate that, more than you can ever know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if the subject pained him. “I’ve, I mean, the Bureau, has looked forward to catching these losers at the right time, to closing a case we all wish had been put to bed months ago. That said, the opportunity to show up as Hawk happened very quickly, and with being back in my hometown, my old stomping grounds…” He ran his fingers through his hair. She curled her fingers into her palm. They were trembling because she was so damn tired. Not because she longed to see how his hair, his skin, felt under hers.

She cleared her throat. “This must be a bit overwhelming. From a personal standpoint.”

A quick burst of appreciation reflected in his eyes was the only answer he gave. As if they’d only met today and had never been friends before—more than friends, if she was being honest with herself—his expression was once again neutral, professional. He broke the moment with a flash of his teeth. “We’d both better rest up before tonight. We’ve got some very bad people to bring down.” He nodded and left the apartment.

She waited for him to shut the door behind him, then bolted and locked it, finishing it up with shoving one of the kitchen chairs under the knob. Keeping Hank out wasn’t possible but she’d hear him or anyone else who tried to break in. If nothing else it would give her time to grab her gun. Exhaustion weighed on her and she trudged back to the bedroom.

Once in bed she didn’t fall asleep immediately, though. For a brief moment she’d seen the Dylan she’d known and trusted, and damn it if her heart didn’t want to make excuses for why he’d never reached back out to her.

A weariness she’d never felt before lowered her defenses against the renewed grief she’d tried to shove down since seeing him again, bringing tears to her eyes that she briskly wiped away. The end of her almost-romantic relationship with Dylan had been the pits, but it wasn’t a tragedy. Losing Tawny when she was eighteen, Tawny only sixteen, was the definition of tragedy.

So why did she feel so raw and split open again?

Chapter 7

“This is a first. You’ve never had anything but a buzz or crew cut.” Callum Colton stared at Dylan as if he were looking at a ghost. He sat in the passenger seat of the late-model sedan Dylan drove, and had agreed to meet him in an abandoned steelworks parking lot. “Let me guess, you’re going for the Dirty Dancing mystique with that hair?”

Dylan grunted. “More like Saturday Night Fever, with an edge. I couldn’t find a white suit, though.”

Callum’s rich laughter tickled Dylan’s funny bone, and just like that they were sharing a joke as they always had. Except the reason for their meeting was no laughing matter. Dylan needed to bring the Stark County sheriff into the entire op, so that Callum wouldn’t inadvertently put any of his people in a bad spot.

“Look, I’m back in the area, as I told you last month.”

“I know.” Callum grunted. “I have my sources, too, you know.”