Bebe
The way I must die is disgraceful.
A heroin overdose on a Saturday night in a cheap apartment.
I’ve never taken an illegal drug in my life—never even smoked pot. Not much of a partier either. Those couple of beers I’d had with Griff the night before last is about as crazy as I get.
Yes, I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory like an execution—bullet to the back of the head—or having my throat slit in gory fashion.
Instead, I’m lying on the couch in Griff’s apartment, my legs splayed, and a fake needle sticking out of my inner arm. Kynan hired a makeup artist who has effectively made my hair appear greasy, my eyes sunken, and scars on the insides of my elbows from repetitive use. We’re staging the photos in Griff’s apartment as the sparse decor goes more in line with a heroin addict versus the luxury of my house.
It’s only Dozer and Griff here with me tonight. Dozer’s snapping photos from various angles while Griff watches from the kitchen. He’s been unusually quiet tonight, and I can’t figure out if it’s because this is just distasteful or he’s biting his tongue because Dozer’s been a dick to him all evening.
It’s something that’s been going on since the two officially met yesterday, and I’m getting sick of it. I know Dozer’s offended on my behalf by Griff’s duplicity, but he needs to let it go.
I have.
I just haven’t had a chance to tell Dozer I’ve let it go. Haven’t had a chance to tell him about Griff’s visit to the house and his talk with Aaron, which truly… made all the difference to me.
I’m focused now on bringing Bogachev down, and I need Dozer to get on board. I need him to stop adding stress on top of it by having this beef with Griff.
“Just a few more,” Dozer murmurs, moving in to take a close up from where I lay on Griff’s couch. “Hold still, Bebe. Let’s try a few with your eyes open if you can give me a good, unfocused death gaze.”
I focus on the light fixture above me, then let my eyes go blurry. Dozer’s iPhone makes a camera shutter clicking sound with every picture he takes.
“These are good,” Dozer says as he starts flipping through the photos. “I think we’ve got enough that we can get out of this fucknut’s apartment and—”
“Just what the hell is your problem, asshole?” Griff snarls as he advances on Dozer.
I jump up from the couch, the fake needle falling to the floor, and put myself right in Griff’s path before he can reach my friend. When I put my hands on his chest, I feel the muscles leap under his shirt. He’s got a very nice chest.
Griff doesn’t even look at me though, instead glaring over my shoulder at Dozer.
“My problem,” my best friend says from behind me, “is you led my girl on. Acted all interested in her, appealed to her girlie sensibilities so she’d invite you into her life—”
“Okay, now just wait a minute,” I snap, turning from Griff to face Dozer. “I do not have girlie sensibilities.”
Dozer ignores me, glowering at Griff.
I glance back at Griff to find him glaring at Dozer.
With a sigh, I give my regard back to Dozer, moving in close to him. “I need you to stop this. I’m not mad at Griff, so you shouldn’t be.”
“He used you—”
I cut Dozer off with a hand to his chest, opening my mouth to deny it. Before I can, Griff starts defending himself.
“What happened between Bebe and me is none of your fucking business, but if it gets you off my back, you need to know there was nothing fake in my feelings. What’s between us is genuine.”
I whirl to face Griff. He’d said that in present tense.
What’s between us.
Not what was between us.
Is there still something there? He never gave me any indication there might be when he came to my house. We only spoke of the future in terms of taking Bogachev down.
“Whatever,” Dozer replies dismissively then brings his eyes to me. “Come on. We got what we need. I’ll take you back to your apartment at Jameson, then we’ll choose the photo for him to send to Bogachev.”
“I’ll take her back,” Griff growls.
“Jesus,” I say, taking a step away from Dozer to put myself squarely in the middle of them again. “I want this shit to stop. It’s stressful enough with what we’ve got to do. I don’t need you two going at it.”
Griff just stares stonily at Dozer, and he glares back.
Christ… they’re children.
“Dozer,” I snap, forcing his attention to me. “Let it go. I have. Things are cool between Griff and me.”
I hold my breath to see what he’ll do, and I’m discouraged when he mutters. “Yeah… whatever. I’m out of here. I’ll text you the photos when I get home.”
He storms out of the apartment and I only hesitate a moment before I run out after him. Catching him halfway down the stairwell, I reach out to grab his arm in frustration. “Dozer… why are you acting this way?”
He pivots to face me, a broad grin on his face. His hands come to my shoulders, and he pulls me in to place a hard, fast kiss on my forehead. “I’m all good, baby girl. But if you haven’t noticed, my little display smacked of jealousy, which implies you and I might have a thing together. And that means the man in there will stay on his toes and not loiter when it comes to you. I don’t want him getting complacent.”
My jaw drops, and I mutter, “I don’t understand.”
“Girl, you are just blind.” Dozer laughs. “That guy in there likes you, and I mean a lot. But he’s also got this whole, ‘I’m FBI and bound by duty, and I don’t have time for romance’ vibe going on. So I want to keep him on his toes. I don’t want him to take you for granted, and the best way to do that is to make him think I’m interested in you and that’s why I can’t stand him.”
I just blink at Dozer.
Repetitively.
“Now, if something happens between you two tonight after he takes you home, then you can thank me for it at work on Monday, okay?”
“I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“Thank you, Dozer, will suffice.” He chuckles, then kisses me on my cheek. As he bounds down the staircase, I just shake my head.
I refuse to thank him for his matchmaking shenanigans, returning to the apartment still feeling bemused. Griff is standing in the middle of the living room where I’d left him. “No offense, but your coworker is an asshole.”
I snicker. “He can be. But he’s also my best friend.”
“Not apologizing for the asshole comment,” he mutters.
This makes me laugh. “Wouldn’t ask you to. And might as well just confess it to you, but Dozer was just acting that way to make you jealous.”
Griff frowns. “What? Why?”
“Because he thinks there’s something between us, but he doesn’t want us to get lost in working on the case and ignore it. He thinks you’re FBI, which to him means stuffy, and so you won’t take advantage of the situation.”
Griff looks ever so serious as he says, “Dude pointed out I’ve got long hair, a beard, and tattoos. I came here to stalk and kill you. How in the world can he even consider me stuffy?”
I snicker, giving him an appreciative once-over. He’s as far from stuffy as can be, but still, I have to admit, “You’re a Fibbie, and you guys are pretty strait-laced.”
Griff gets a gleam in his eyes, taking a calculated step toward me. “So, if I were a stuffy, strait-laced FBI agent, I most certainly wouldn’t do this, would I?”
My entire body braces to see what he’ll do, and my skin tingles from head to foot. No man has ever made me feel lightheaded before, but I go dizzy when his big hand comes to the back of my neck. Like weak in the knees, jello-legged, ready-to-collapse-to-the-ground kind of woozy. He moves in closer, dips his head, and brushes his mouth against mine.
In this moment, I realize I’d give him anything he asked from me. If I had more time to think on this, I’d think this might have to do with the fact I’m not only insanely attracted to him and beyond repressed sexually due to prison circumstances, but also because I trust him.
After all, he did save my life.
My entire body surrenders, sags right against him, and his arm comes naturally around my waist to hold me tight. The kiss is gentle, exploratory, and yet possessive at the same time. Griff is affirming he still has genuine feelings, and he’s not afraid to act on them.
But then the kiss stops, and I don’t know what any of this means. Without the pressure of his hand on my neck or his lips whispering against mine, I feel insecure and out of my depth. This man—almost a near-stranger—sent here to kill me, only to protect me instead, and now he’s giving me an opportunity to put my past to rest once and for all. He kissed me, yet we should have a purely professional relationship, but I don’t want to abide by rules that would have us maintaining a distance.
We’re once again at a distance now that he’s stopped kissing me, and I don’t know if I even have a right to ask him to bridge it.
I’m not sure if it’s my face, or perhaps he feels it in the slight stiffening of my body, but Griff frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just…” Just what? What am I? “Confused as to what’s going on between us.”
“I thought me kissing you was pretty clear,” he replies gently, his eyes probing mine for some type of acknowledgment I understand.
I’m more confused than ever.
When I pull away from him, Griff’s hand releases my neck and falls to his side. “We’ve known each other a week and a half. We met in an unconventional way in a mishmash of lies and half-truths. Now we have to work together on an important case to bring down a man who ruined my life once and wants to do it again. I’m kind of thinking I’ve got the right to be confused by this. I mean… you and I have a job to do. It’s important work. Should we even be kissing, or… other things?”
His grin is wide and teasing. “I don’t know… depends on what ‘other things’ you have in mind.”
Glaring, I stomp my foot. “I’m being serious, Griff. I need some clarity. I’m not the best person at communicating. I was very isolated for the last seven years. I’m withdrawn and introverted. Why I’m so good at coding and computers is because I understand them a lot better than people. When I got out of prison and reunited with Aaron, I didn’t even know how to talk to him, but what I learned was I actually had to talk. I had to put things out there so they could be addressed. So I’m putting it out there to you… I need to know what this is. Something we should ignore until we bring Bogachev down? Something we should pursue? I need some guidance so I quit worrying about it.”
Throughout my rant, I notice the grin slip off his face and his eyes darken a bit. Perhaps I stepped over a line. Maybe that came off as way too whiny and unattractive to such a self-assured man. Or it could be I’m just the world’s biggest moron.
Griff’s head bows slightly, causing his long hair to fall forward. He scrapes it back with his fingers, tucking it behind his ears. When his gaze comes back to me, I feel a settling deep down in my gut just from the expression on his face.
Lips curled slightly—not in amusement at my insecurity, but in understanding. Eyes warm, empathetic. Jaw set in a determined manner. I just know—deep in my gut—that the words getting ready to come out of his mouth are going to set the course of my relationship with this man.
“You want to know what this is, Bebe?” he asks, but I hold still because of the low, rhetorical rumble of his voice. “It’s everything. It’s fate. It’s serendipity. It’s fucking destiny. Our paths crossed, two people who were probably a billion-to-one odds of ever meeting, yet we were supposed to come into each other’s lives at the moment we did. I was supposed to be the one who was sent to find you, and it was supposed to be you that I was meant to save, and together? Well, together the world is our fucking oyster is what I’m thinking. We’re going to work together—take down the monster who destroyed your life and hurt so many other innocent people. We’re going to do it together. And while we’re at it, we’re going to continue to get to know each other. And if I may be so bold as to say, I already have a fairly intimate knowledge of you and I intend to continue to get to know you. I don’t need for this case to be over to take it to the next level with you, but if you want to take it slow, just know I’m not fucking going anywhere so we can move at a pace that’s good with you. Whatever we decide—we do it together, knowing we’re together for a reason that defies all logic and reason, and I’m not letting this opportunity pass.”
I just stare at him, thinking my ovaries just might have combusted.
“Is that clear enough to you?” he asks.
Nodding, I continue to stare like a wide-eyed owl, wondering if I can get him to repeat that entire speech one more time so I can remember the exact details to tell Dozer about it.
Griffin smiles again. This time, I can tell he’s amused and thinks I’m the cutest thing ever. His hands go to my face, hold me in place, and he bends to kiss me once again.
It’s deep, but not overly erotic. Promising.
All too brief.
He pulls away and when my eyes flutter open, he’s regarding me somberly. “I’m going to New York.”
Startled, my body jerks over such a proclamation. “But why?”
Griff’s thumb grazes my cheek. “I want to make sure Bogachev buys my story of your death. I want to look him in the eye when I tell him how you died and that Aaron’s still out there, and I should find him. I want to make sure he doesn’t doubt me, and that it’s safe to come back here and be around you, because I am not going to put you in danger. I really need to see it for myself.”
Now I’m scared and it’s not for me, but for Griff. I know how demented Bogachev is, particularly if he thinks someone is disloyal. “No, don’t go. Notify him by phone. We’ll both be safe at Jameson until I can figure out how to hack him.”
Griff shakes his head. “Sorry, Bebe, but I need to do this. I need to judge the situation. While I need to do everything to maintain my case, I need to balance that with making sure you’re absolutely safe.”
And it’s then I learn my first lesson about Griff. I can tell by the tone of voice there’s no arguing with him about this.
But then I realize… this actually may be a golden opportunity.
“Will you be going to his apartment?” I ask.
“Yeah… he conducts all his business from his home.”
“Then I have an idea,” I say, my mind now spinning madly with inspiration.