Chapter Five

 

As he sat there in Lt. Bennett’s room, he remembered that long drive back, the blindfold Nathan had made him wear almost a comfort that second time around, the shutting out of the light a symbolic shutting out of the emotions he felt as he’d watched that lovely woman bare herself to him.

It was all wrong. This was all wrong.

Because he’d wanted her. God in heaven, but he did — in every way.

He’d laid awake almost every night since the visit, his hard cock in his hand, hoping he wouldn’t succumb to the memory of it, the smell of her hair, the sweet, gentle sound of her voice.

She was a light in the midst of darkness.

The problem was, that darkness was a very, very familiar thing. It spoke to him, it knew him.

It was him.

“You somewhere in there, Officer Bishop?”

He must’ve pissed off his handler; Bennett never used Eldon’s last name unless he’d fucked something up.

It was the third meeting he’d had with the lieutenant, and in every instance it was the same.

“I need more time. I feel like I’m close, but I don’t have much to go on yet.”

Eldon didn’t know why he lied. Why didn’t he just tell Bennett that he already had enough to have SWAT, and even the fucking feds, descending upon the place?

But he didn’t.

“How much more time? Can you give me anything, anything at all?”

He knew Bennett was always under pressure. Deep cover hits were always spendy, and they were always risky. They were one of the quickest ways for a cop to get dead—and his department might never be able to say a word about it.

Losing one of their own was never easy, but not even being able to acknowledge a fallen comrade, mourn him in public, that was a special kind of shitty.

Why do you care? You’ve gone so fucking far past the point of no return.

Maybe, but how was he going to learn anything else if he had the place shut down on any number of the several felonies he already had probable cause on?

How could he really know anything anymore?

The facts were clear; the place was almost certainly involved in a big time human trafficking operation, and where there was trafficking, there were two other things: money and drugs.

The Trust was drowning in money though, so something didn’t add up there. They had zero reason to be involved with drugs either—too hot, too many problems.

Perhaps it was simply lust, avarice, sadism allowed free rein.

The problem with that theory though… was that everybody seemed to be there of their own free will. Though he’d never seen anyone forced, per se, he’d seen more bound women that day than in the most depraved porn vid. Still, instinct was a powerful thing, and he never, ever, got the sense those women were there… because they’d hadn’t chosen to be.

They might not have particularly liked what was being done to them, but he didn’t believe any of them had been coerced against their will.

And you understand that fact — not to mention your precious feelings — mean exactly DICK as far as the law is concerned, don’t you?

Something wasn’t right though, not least being the fact that the ‘medical aid’ he’d been asked to render hadn’t been much different than what could be given by a layman. Perhaps the rough pregnancy sex, and the mastitis cases might have been slightly above the pay grade of the layman.

But none of the rest was. That alone was suspicious.

One thing they always taught you on deep cover assignments: if something felt wrong or off, then it almost certainly was.

The really good undercover agents kept going anyway.

Then there was the subject of what they were doing with those women. Had he really seen that? Had that actually happened?

He tried not to think about the fact those memories made his cock hard.

Good guys, remember?

“Yeah, the good guys.” Eldon didn’t realize he’d muttered it aloud.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on in that two cent brain of yours, Bishop?” Bennett threw his file down on the hotel room desk, the file smacking against the coffee mug sitting there, black liquid sloshing out, wetting one corner of the paper. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Sorry, I don’t know what the hell that meant. Look, I just need more time, Lieutenant. A little more time, and I think this thing’s going to go our way.”

Sure it is, as long as your way leads to her.

“Then you’ve got to give me something, Bishop. And soon. You may be a good undercover, but you’re a damn shitty liar when it comes to your superiors.”

“Lieutenant, I—”

Bennett held up his hand, shaking his head, his scowl deepening the craggy topography of his face. “I’m letting you run with this… but not forever. Get me something.”