Gretchen wasn’t sure how she was managing to go back to the life she had led before she had fallen irrevocably in love with Finn James but somehow she was getting up every day and pretending her entire world hadn’t been turned on its axis. She tried to tell herself he was as miserable as she was, but as reports came back of him spending more and more time with Ronnie Sinclair, she found it increasingly difficult to convince herself he had ever cared for her at all.
She sat now, leaning back in her chair, her feet propped on the edge of the table as Carpenter shared a similar report of the activities from the previous night. She laid her head back and stared at the ceiling, pretending every time they spoke of Jay Finley, they were talking about someone she didn’t know, which she supposed deep down wasn’t that inaccurate.
“Any thoughts, Chris?” the captain asked, snapping her to attention.
“I’m sorry, what?” She dropped her feet and sat up.
Carpenter rolled his eyes and beside her Neil suppressed a laugh.
“We’re going in next Thursday,” he repeated for her benefit. “Any thoughts?”
Gretchen had plenty of thoughts, but she wasn’t necessarily interested in voicing any of them at the moment. Her main concern was whether she could get Finn out of there by then without anyone knowing she had tipped him off, and more importantly, without him tipping Ronnie off and blowing the whole case to shit.
“They’ll have all of their muscle there Thursday,” she mused, knowing that Carlisle was planning to entertain his biggest supplier that night, which was why she knew Ronnie would be there providing her girls’ services.
“So will we,” Carpenter assured her. “So far everything we’ve received from our source and our inside guy has proven true, I’m willing to go with this.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “Unless there is something that you know.”
Gretchen met his eyes, holding them for a moment before shaking her head. “Just let me at Ronnie Sinclair and I’ll do whatever you want.” She didn’t realize how venomous she sounded until she heard the sharp gasps of a few of her fellow agents. She turned her eyes to them now, almost in a dare.
“She do that to your face a few weeks ago?” one asked, and Gretchen shook her head.
“She didn’t have the balls,” she informed him, “just the bank account.”
“Tell me who she hired and I’ll take care of them,” another agent spoke up.
Gretchen couldn’t help but smile, despite the anger starting to build inside her.
“Already handled,” she told him quietly.
“From inside?” the same agent asked. “They did that for you?”
Gretchen didn’t answer, because she was starting to wonder if anything Finn had done had actually been for her.
“Why?”
This time she let a slow smile spread across her full lips.
“What can I say? I’m pretty good on a pole.”
“Yeah she is,” shouted one of the agents who had seen her dance.
She smiled as the men laughed, although she was sure what she had said was the truth and the only reason Finn had done anything to the men who had touched her was because he didn’t share, since apparently he didn’t have any problems with the woman who had ordered them to do it.
“Damn, Neil,” another agent laughed, “you better get a leash on that.”
“How many times… It’s not like that.” Neil shook his head, and glanced at Gretchen, who knew the other guys often gave him a hard time about their partnership.
“That’s enough,” Carpenter snapped.
“We’ll see what we can do about you and Sinclair,” he told Gretchen with a satisfied smirk.
Gretchen nodded, settling back into her seat and letting her mind wander as they began to discuss the layout of the club and the best way to enter. She pulled out her phone and tried to figure out how to get to Finn.
* * * * *
Finn sat drumming his fingers impatiently on the table, as a new dancer spun around the pole on stage. He wished everything in this place didn’t make him think of Gretchen but he found that it did. Watching the dancer only made him wish she were Gretchen, until he physically ached for her touch.
The private phone in his pocket buzzed, and he looked around the room before pulling it out and checking the display. He hadn’t talked to Brock in weeks, admittedly avoiding his best friend’s calls, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings for Gretchen from her brother. Ironically, he found himself answering now in hopes that he would hear something about Gretchen from her brother.
“Hey,” he greeted his friend. “How’s it going, married man?”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Brock finally spoke.
“My sister asked me to call you.”
Finn’s stomach dropped, but he tried to remain calm.
“Yeah, what’s she want you to give me hell about?” He forced a laugh.
“I think she’s worried about you,” Brock continued and Finn laughed.
“Gretchen’s not worried about me,” he replied.
There was another pause before Brock’s voice sounded again.
“How do you know it’s Gretchen?” he asked. “I have three sisters, Finn. How do you know Gretchen’s the one worried? What the hell is going on?”
Finn swallowed hard, not surprised that he had managed to slip up, his mind had been torn between his work at the club and thoughts of Gretchen for months now.
“What did she say?” he asked Brock without answering.
Brock sighed loudly.
“She says I should invite you over for dinner next Thursday,” he told Finn. “Any reason for that?”
Finn’s chest grew tight, and he wished it didn’t make him so damn happy that she had found a way to warn him about the raid he had helped set up.
“Not that I know of,” he lied.
“Is she in trouble?” Brock asked as Finn expected he eventually would.
“Not anymore,” Finn admitted. “I took care of her, man.”
“Finn.” Brock’s voice grew serious. “I’m trusting you, because I love you… Like a brother.”
“And you know I’ve always cared about Gretchen,” Finn countered.
“Like a sister?” Brock’s voice held too much understanding.
Finn didn’t answer, he didn’t have to.
“Dammit, Finn, if anything happens to her…”
“It won’t,” he assured his friend. It couldn’t, he wouldn’t survive it if it did. “She’s safe, she’s good.” He hoped he was telling the truth.
“And you?”
Finn thought about the question for a moment. “I’m sure I will be,” he told his friend, praying that he was right.
* * * * *
“You ready for this?” Gretchen turned at the sound of Neil’s voice behind her and fastened her vest.
“Yeah,” she told him with a confident nod. She was more than ready to face Ronnie Sinclair. She just hoped to God Finn wouldn’t get caught in the crosshairs.
“What about this guy you were with?” Neil leaned against a locker, watching her.
“What about him?” she shrugged.
“Jesus, Gretchen.” He pushed away from the locker and came to stand in front of her. “Don’t play cool with me. He took out his own guys for you, it was more than you being good on a pole and you know it.”
Gretchen shook her head, because as much as she may have wanted to believe it, she certainly didn’t know it.
“It wasn’t like that,” she explained. “He had to, Neil. He had staked a claim on a piece of meat and someone dared to poach. If he hadn’t done something, he would have lost credibility, respect, that’s all it was.”
She was surprised her voice didn’t waver as she spoke, and she supposed it was because she had told herself the same thing so many times it had mostly become a simple recitation.
“So if he’s there tonight?”
“I would prefer he stay out of my way, but if he doesn’t…” She shrugged as if she would do what she had to, but she knew she would never be able to take down Finn. Her biggest fear was that he would stand between her and Ronnie, and she would be forced to let the other woman go to save him. She shook her head, because she refused to allow herself to consider the implications of such a scenario.
“We roll in five,” a voice called from the door of the locker room, and Gretchen met Neil’s eyes stoically.
“Kick ass in there.” Neil nodded, extending his fist.
Gretchen bumped her fist against his.
“Take names,” she finished, holding his eyes for just a moment before they made their way out.
* * * * *
Finn downed his drink, he knew it was a terrible idea to be drinking when Gretchen and her group would be bursting through the doors within the hour, but he needed something to calm his nerves. Tonight would make or break his entire world. He was giving up the life he had known for the last ten years in hopes that he could start a new life with Gretchen, and he wasn’t entirely sure she would give him a chance in hell when this was all over.
The stripper in front of him slid onto his lap, rubbing against his thigh so that he could feel the warmth of her through her thin G-string. He met her vacant eyes and felt nothing. He forced a smile and signaled for another drink.
“You like this one.” Ronnie’s breath was hot on his neck as she slid onto the bench beside him. She reached out and ran a fake nail down the other woman’s chest and over her hard nipple. “She tastes even better than she looks,” Ronnie told him. She slid her hand across his lap, cupping his balls before giving a slight squeeze. “We should try her later.”
Finn swallowed back the bile rising in his throat, regretting his last drink. “Why don’t you go back and get ready for me?” he replied, letting her take his lips with hers.
She pulled away and grinned. “I’ll be in the third room,” she told him.
He nodded because he would have expected nothing less. The third room had been Lilah’s room, the room where he had first slept with Gretchen, and Ronnie damn well knew it.
“I’ll be there,” he lied and watched as the she sashayed away.
“Should I?” The girl in his lap motioned toward where Ronnie disappeared.
“No,” he told her firmly. “You just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
She looked confused for a moment before quickly continuing her lap dance.
Finn lifted his hand to check the watch at his wrist when the doors burst open and all hell broke loose.
Gretchen was behind Neil with her gun held across her body as they burst through the back entrance of the nightclub. She could hear the music still pumping as screams rang out and people, most likely the innocent who had never experienced such an event, began to run. She spotted one of Carlisle’s suppliers headed her way, and she raised her gun, surprised at how readily her finger went to the trigger. The man stopped when he spotted them, and he looked back for another escape.
“Nowhere to go,” Neil told him. “Get down.”
Gretchen could see the man debating, weighing his chances of getting past them. He lunged toward them, and Gretchen stepped forward, catching the side of his jaw with the butt of her rifle.
“Get on the fucking ground,” she told him.
“Fucking-A, Chris.” Neil rushed past her, stepping between her and the man writhing on the floor, holding his likely broken jaw. He motioned for another agent to cuff the man and take him away.
Gretchen pushed past Neil and continued quickly down the hall, trying to break away from her partner, her desire to find Ronnie outweighing any potential danger she knew to expect. She had to get away from Neil in order to protect him. She knew enough about herself to expect she wouldn’t remain calm when she faced the other woman, and she wouldn’t cost Neil his badge, she couldn’t be with him when she found Ronnie. She heard him coming up behind her as they made their way down the hall, slowly approaching the room where she had first slept with Finn. Throughout the club, agents were pushing through doors, finding people in various stages of undress and sexual activity.
“Check in there,” Neil told her with a slight duck of his head toward her old room. Gretchen looked at the door before turning back to him, but he had already continued down the hall.
Finn tossed the girl to the floor when the doors burst open and jumped to his feet, supposedly as surprised as everyone else about what was happening. He rushed toward Carlisle as per his job description in case of such an incident. He saw Grant out of the corner of his eye as he ran forward. Finn took Carlisle’s arm and pulled him up, ushering him out of the main part of the club and to his private office. Grant ran up to cover his back. They pushed through Carlisle’s door and slammed it behind them before Finn slid aside the false bookcase, and Carlisle disappeared through the private tunnel where he would essentially walk right into Captain Carpenter’s hands. Finn was just replacing the bookcase when the door behind him splintered, and three agents dressed in black entered the room with their guns raised. He turned and held his hands up, but Grant moved toward the men, and Finn knew they would shoot him. For a brief moment he thought of Gretchen and wondered what a life with her could be like, but then he remembered the pictures of Grant’s wife and daughter that he often caught the other man admiring, and he threw himself into Grant, crashing to the floor on top of him.
Gretchen heard the first gunshots ring out and she shook her head. It was inevitable, but she still always hoped for a peaceful ending. She swept into the room, pushing back the memories it held and instead searched for any sign of life. She could smell Finn in the room, and she fought to push the thought of him away. She lowered her gun, briefly pausing in front of the small dresser, she caught a movement in the mirror out of the corner of her eye. She spun and felt the cold steel of a gun at her temple.
“I never have understood why you all wear those vests when it’s so much more convenient to just shoot you in the head.” Ronnie laughed and pulled back the hammer.
“And I’ll never understand why you didn’t just have your men kill me when they had the chance.” Gretchen swallowed.
“I was hoping to recruit you,” Ronnie admitted. “Surely if that tight body of yours could get Jay so twisted up, I could make a fortune off you.”
Gretchen bit back her reply as Ronnie reached across and took the gun from her hand, dropping it to the floor behind her.
“I should have known you were a good girl,” Ronnie taunted. “I should have never worried about you. He would have grown bored of you eventually.”
Gretchen nodded, sure the other woman was right. “But you did worry,” she goaded. “You were threatened, I get it. I’m like ten or fifteen years younger than you, and I’m sure my pussy doesn’t have nearly as many miles on it.”
Ronnie pushed the gun harder against Gretchen’s temple, and Gretchen managed to suppress the satisfied smirk inside her.
“Go ahead,” Gretchen jeered, “pull the trigger, Ronnie. End it where it started.”
She forced back the memory of the way Finn had felt that first time and prayed that she knew what the hell she was doing now.
“Because when I get you down on your knees, I won’t be holding an old picture in front of you, I’m going to make you watch as I—”
Gretchen had known Ronnie was getting close to snapping, so when she pulled the gun away and made a move to hit Gretchen across the face with it, Gretchen was ready. She moved slightly, reaching for Ronnie’s arm and pulling it across her own body, before slamming the heel of her hand down on the back of the other woman’s elbow with a satisfying snap. Ronnie went to her knees, and Gretchen fisted her hand in her red hair, bringing Ronnie’s head down as she drove her knee up and into her face.
She let go, and Ronnie fell, bleeding, onto the floor. She stood for a moment watching as Ronnie tried to push herself up before reaching out a booted foot and pushing her down, resting it across her throat.
“You have the right to shut the fuck up,” Gretchen told her, still too angry to even smirk. “But frankly I don’t give a shit what you do.” She pressed a little harder and watched as Ronnie tried to use her broken arm to push her foot away.
“All clear in here?” Neil stood relaxed in the doorway, his gun held at his side. Gretchen looked up, meeting his eyes. “I could come back,” he offered.
Gretchen shook her head and stepped away, letting him enter the room and take over.
She moved into the hall, surprised at how quickly her group had swept through and gained control. In the main part of the club, she spotted Amber and a few of the others she had gotten to know over the past few months. Amber eyed her strangely and Gretchen offered a soft smile.
She looked up at the sound of two officers coming out of Carlisle’s office with Grant cuffed between them. Grant was covered in blood and despite the fact that at the moment they were supposed to be on different sides, she made her way to him.
“Grant,” she spoke calmly though she felt anything but. “Are you okay? Did they…”
“It’s not my blood,” he interrupted and shook his head sadly, looking away and not meeting her eyes.
“Well thank God.” She smiled and stepped closer to offer any help that she could. She didn’t want to see Grant go down for the things he had helped perpetrate. He may not have been innocent, but like Finn, he wasn’t bad either.
“If there’s anything—” she whispered, stepping close so only he could hear.
“It’s Jay,” he cut her off, and Gretchen shook her head, moving back and looking into his tortured eyes.
“The blood,” Grant told her and his voice cracked. “It’s Jay’s.”
It took Gretchen a moment to realize he was talking about her Finn, but when she did, she pushed past him, running toward Carlisle’s office.
A sheet had already been spread over the body and blood was soaking through it when she came through the door.
“Who is that?” she asked, still hoping it was someone else, someone truly evil who would deserve what had happened to them.
“I think it’s Jay Finley,” Carpenter spoke from behind her. “The other man called him Jay, and from what we can tell, he fits the description.”
Gretchen shook her head and began to move forward, she would tell them that it wasn’t Finn. She could identify even the smallest bit of him, like the small scar at his hip, or the freckles on his shoulder or the birthmark on his knee. Carlisle stepped in front of her.
“You need to get out,” he told her. “The two of you were too close, you don’t need to be here. Go handle things with Ronnie.”
Gretchen shook her head. Fuck Ronnie Sinclair. If Finn was dead, none of that mattered.
“I need to see—”
“No, get out of here,” Carlisle told her firmly.
Gretchen nodded but didn’t comply. She looked at the body on the floor, her gaze going to the hand that lay outside the cover of the sheet. She saw the calluses and the scar across the palm from an errant saw when he and Brock had built their first fort decades ago.
“No,” she muttered, shaking her head, feeling as if her chest was suddenly too full and too tight.
“No.” She pushed against Carpenter, determined to get to Finn. “No.”
“Come on, Chris, let’s get out of here.” Neil was behind her now, but she couldn’t leave, convinced that Finn needed her now, that she could do something that would erase this.
“No,” she screamed and pushed Neil, lunging toward the body.
Neil caught her by the waist and jerked her back, only tightening his grip when her hands tried to bat him away.
“No,” she repeated, then she was screaming for Finn as Neil forced her through the club and the people she had helped destroy.