Lara sobered. The image of the man with dark eyes filled her mind. “At least that means Moretti can’t go after my family. They’re gone.”
Nick didn’t have the hesitation that Lara had harbored before. He stretched his hand out and, touching her chin, tilted her gaze up from her bottle to his eyes. They were also dark. The contact surprised her, but she didn’t pull away.
“We’ll stop him,” he said, voice charged. “He’ll pay for what he’s done, and then all that will be left is a name no one will remember.”
Every part of Lara began to vibrate. The walls she’d built around her emotions began to shake. When she spoke, it was terrifyingly honest.
“I’ll remember,” she whispered.
Nick’s fierce expression sharpened. “Then we’ll have to make you forget.”
And then his lips were on hers.
His kiss was hard. It pushed against Lara’s lips with a need so poignant that she was stunned into immobility for a moment. Or maybe she wasn’t as still as she’d thought. She felt her body reach out to him just as she returned the kiss. She wanted Nick Delano, and she wanted him badly.
And that was a problem.
Lara froze.
Nick broke the kiss.
She glanced around them to see if anyone had noticed the two FBI agents locking lips, but no one seemed to care. They were in their own little worlds with their own little worries, not caring about the two at the corner of the bar. The cold of the bottle still in Lara’s hand seeped into her skin and acted as a blaring reminder of who she was and what she couldn’t do. The proverbial bucket of cold water to the face, in miniature.
“I—I have to go,” she stammered out, pulling out some money for the drinks. Heat crawled across her body. Her heartbeat raced, and it was all she could do to control her breathing. Nick also seemed to be going through a myriad of feelings. The kiss, she believed, had probably happened on impulse. Either way, Lara hopped off the stool, reached for her keys on the counter and averted her eyes.
“Lara, I’m sorry,” Nick tried, voice lower than normal. “Stay.”
“I have to go,” she said, more resolutely.
She was out of The Pit in a flash, the door swinging closed behind her. Nick didn’t follow. It gave her the break she needed. She took a few steps away from the entrance and put her back against the wall. No one seemed to pay her any mind as she closed her eyes.
I can’t do this, she thought. I can’t do this again.
Whatever was between Nick and her, whatever attraction threaded them together, she was going to have to ignore it. They had to keep things professional. They had to...
If only for her sanity.
She took another moment, trying to calm her excited body, before nodding to herself. Without a backwards glance Lara headed to the subway and made her way back to her apartment. Instead of focusing on her partner, she busied her mind on trivial things. Focusing on the chill that bit at her despite her coat and trying to recall how empty her refrigerator was, Lara Grant knew that thinking about Nick Delano would utterly distract her.
Yet another thing she couldn’t afford.
* * *
Victoria looked up from the desk but didn’t smile. The older woman wasn’t in the mood and neither was Lara. After getting back to her apartment the night before, she had tried to rest until finally falling into an uneasy sleep. One that had been interrupted by a call from her boss the next morning. Now Lara sat down opposite the woman, unsure of what it was she had been called in to talk about.
“I’ve tried to avoid this,” Victoria jumped in, interlocking her fingers on the desktop. “But I think it’s time you pay a visit to Moretti and find out what he knows about the Black Stamp Serial Killer. That’s what the newspapers are calling the killer.”
Lara felt her face contort into a blank slate. Thinking of talking to that man again made her blood run cold. Distancing herself from him and everything he had done was easy to do with him behind bars. Talking to Moretti in person—in prison, no less, thanks to her—was a different ballgame. He had become the head of a massive organization, running most of it off of fear. No matter her part in his and its downfall, seeing him was an intimidating thought.
“I’d send the others, but, firstly, I don’t think he’d talk to them, and secondly, I’m not sure I’d believe anything he did say since we know how well he lies. You know that better than anyone.” Her expression softened. It didn’t last long. “And because you do know him, maybe he’ll betray himself somehow, even by his expression, and you can get something from him.” Lara shifted in her seat just thinking of being across from Moretti again after all of this time...”Listen, you’re the only one who managed to bring down the son of a bitch and his entire empire,” Victoria added. “His reaction to you might be interesting. So, let’s see where it leads.”
“It’s leading to murder,” Lara reminded her boss. Victoria didn’t hesitate in her response.
“It could be him behind everything so far. It could be anyone remotely connected to his organization pulling the strings. Either way, we need to find out.” She pulled her hands apart and shifted her gaze back to the papers she’d been looking at when Lara had walked in. “Now, go.”
Just like that the conversation was over.
* * *
The farther she walked down the hallway, the colder her heart became. Whether it was fear or anger, she couldn’t tell. Each step closer to the meeting room, what made Lara, Lara became quickly encased by something she didn’t like. Something that made her want to stop following the guard in front of her and leave the federal maximum security prison in the dust. But she owed it to Tina Cole, Lara Bowman, Elizabeth Grant, Cass’s sister Allie and the many other victims to stop Moretti once and for all.
“Agent Grant?”
Lara’s gaze left her current point of fascination on the cinderblock wall beside them. She hadn’t realized they’d come to a door. The guard gave her a questioning look.
“Are you?” he prompted again.
“Excuse me?” Lara was so far into her own mind she’d missed what he’d said.
“Are you ready?”
The guard had no idea of who she was and how she was connected to the man he, among many others, was tasked with keeping locked up. He had no way of knowing the trepidation she was currently battling. His question was just a formality. So she gave him an equally formal reply.
“Yes, sir.”
The guard let her into a small room with stained concrete flooring and more badly paint-chipped walls. Horrible fluorescent bulbs buzzed overhead, doing nothing more than giving an already gloom-filled atmosphere more gusto. Lara took up a seat at one of three booths lining the wall.
“I’ll
