had to protect the three of us. I was the oldest, so I had to take care of my family.
My mother raised us in church, so the only father I knew was a Heavenly Father, and most times I wondered if He was even there. You know, when Mama couldn’t pay the rent, when we had no food, or when I wore shoes to school that were way too small because we had no money for new ones. Where was God when my mother couldn’t get folks in our small church to help her? Out of desperation she turned to a local drug dealer for a job. It destroyed her life, and not having her there for me sent me searching for love in all the wrong places. So here I am with Troy.
Troy and I found our way into each other’s arms after work one day. It was early April, and I’d been on Troy’s team for eighteen months. It was my tenth assignment since coming out of training—I had been an agent for almost five years. We were working a money-laundering case. We’d tracked our suspect, Rudy Roberts, from our hometown and headquarters in D.C. to New York City. Troy, another agent, and I were in a surveillance van, following Roberts in a cab. Suddenly the yellow taxi pulled over and Roberts got out, smiled at our van, and started walking briskly down the sidewalk.
Very annoyed that the guy had somehow found us out, Troy ordered, “You guys stay in the vehicle and follow me—I’m tailing Roberts.”
He hurled out so fast that he didn’t take a radio. When Roberts ducked down a dark alley, Troy followed him. We couldn’t see either of them.
After waiting a few minutes, panic began to set in. I opened the van door.
The other agent yelled, “We need to stay put.”
“We can’t even see him now,” I rationalized. “What if he’s in trouble?”
I ducked down that same blind alley and heard a scuffle. With my gun drawn, I crept up the sidewall behind a green, industrial Dumpster. Suddenly the struggle ended.
Roberts laughed. “You’ve nothing on me. Get ready to die.”
Taking a deep breath for courage, I walked a few paces more and saw Roberts on top of my case leader, his gun in Troy’s face.
I identified myself by saying, “Freeze—FBI!” When he cocked his gun, I shot mine on impulse.
After the smoke cleared, I realized I had shot a man for the very first time in my life. I suddenly felt this awful guilt. Although I’d spent countless hours at the firing range, I was not prepared for the emotional reaction that I would have when I was actually in that situation.
“What have I done?” I mumbled.
Then Troy was in front of me, taking the warm weapon from my hands. “If you hadn’t shot him, he would have killed me. I’m forever grateful—and glad you disobeyed my order and got out of that van.” He smiled.
After Internal Affairs investigated for days, they concluded I did the only thing I could. Still, I was mentally drained and shaken. After the shooting I couldn’t handle my emotions in the field, so my boss, Agent Thomas Hunter, decided to keep me chained to my desk, reviewing cases and talking to confidential sources, gathering evidence until he thought I was ready to get back out there.
Troy understood my disappointment. Not too long after I was benched, he asked to buy me a late meal. Since the shooting, I didn’t like being alone at night, so I accepted his offer. We went to a local steak house and ate and drank for several hours. Later, Troy saw me to my door. I was slightly inebriated and he wanted to make sure that I got in safely. He opened the door for me with my keys but didn’t say good night.
Troy looked deep into my eyes that hazy April night and told me I was beautiful and sexy. I hadn’t heard that from a man in too long.
I pulled him close to me and kissed him deeply. I wanted to be found attractive again by a man. It had been years since I’d felt the warm hands of a strong man all over my body. No part of me hesitated as I slipped into his arms.
Though Troy made it clear he didn’t want anything serious, that was the first of many wonderful, sensual nights that we would spend together. Law enforcement wasn’t the kind of career that lent itself to settling down. The women Troy had dated before me didn’t understand that. The long hours and spur of the moment out of town trips for weeks at a time without a decent night off weren’t the kind of thing most women could deal with. He was one of the FBI’s best agents, so he handled some of the biggest cases in the world. Romance came second to adventure for Troy.
At first, that wasn’t high on my priority list, either, so we made a good match. We’d get together whenever we felt like keeping each other’s bed warm. Other than that, neither of us had any expectations. Months ago that was okay, but now, lying next to him, I was suddenly sick of the arrangement.
As I gazed at his muscular body, toffee-colored skin, and handsome face, I thought maybe, just maybe, I was ready for more than just casual sex with no commitment. Something inside made me see this as wrong. Was it the Holy Spirit at work?
Stepping out of bed, I hurried to the bathroom. It was almost two A.M. Spending the night this time was not an option. I had too much going on inside me. Not only was I starting to hate our no-strings-attached relationship, I was also starting to despise my profession. I was honestly burnt-out personally and professionally. Our unit worked closely with the Drug Enforcement Agency, following seedy characters from state to state until we finally got enough evidence for an arrest. But each time I saw a major drug dealer get off on a technicality, it made me want another job. And watching others work on cases in the field while I was still tied to a desk didn’t help matters any.
Standing at the sink, I stared at my dim reflection in the mirror. Troy often complimented me on my smooth brown complexion and warm, hazel eyes. I was just glad my eyelashes were long and thick so I didn’t have to use mascara. I never wore much makeup, preferring to rely on my own natural, God-given attributes. Glamour and guns only mixed in the movies.
I really needed to redo my highlights, though. I ran my fingers through my short hair and thought about the fine man in the next room. Suddenly my insides started churning.
One part of me wondered why I was tripping. Maybe I just needed to crawl back into bed with him and get some more loving. Or maybe I needed some space. It seems like just yesterday that my first and only love, Max Cross, broke my heart. Max and I dated all four years at Baylor. I majored in Criminal Justice and he was a Business major. We met at a freshman party and were inseparable from then on. He was an exceptionally sexy man with creamy clay skin and hazel-brown eyes that made me melt. I thought we’d get married, and I was devastated when we broke up. I shouldn’t have told him I was pregnant. The abortion broke my heart—and our relationship.
To get over that pain, I took on more shifts at my job at a local restaurant, Texan Grill, where I’d been working to earn money to send back to my mother and sister. It hadn’t been more than three months before the married manager, Damien, and I began having an affair. I knew it wasn’t right. But Damien just treated me so well—like a queen, and I hadn’t been treated like that before. He bought me things and took me on trips. I didn’t know what he told his wife and didn’t care until the day she caught us in the act.
Over the next six months, I applied and got accepted into a training program for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It’s been less than six years. After doing well on other assignments and saving Agent Evans’s life, I now enjoyed the respect of my colleagues. They started calling me “the woman with everything going on.” It was true. I was good-looking, well put-together. Whatever I wore always suited me. And I’d never had a problem attracting a man. But what difference did
