Chapter 21

"Diamonds may be precious,

but friendship is priceless."

–Unknown

Jameson

The idea of Rayne confronting the two burly men who had ambushed me sent a shiver down my spine. I refused to be caught off guard by them again, and I'd sooner face hell and the devil himself than allow Rayne to step directly into harm's way.

Tonight could end up being very bad for me. I knew there was a chance of word getting back that I'd been seen with Rayne. Hell, at this point, I was taking a huge gamble. The image of the kid staring back at me pissed me off enough that I was willing to chance everything.

While she drove us out of town and headed into Madison County towards the Gator Hole Bar, where my phone had last pinged, I kept trying to convince her to let me go into the bar alone first and look around. Of course, she was having none of it, and by the time she parked in the bar's parking lot, we'd just finished our very first argument.

Seeing Rayne climb out of her Jeep and slam her door somehow oddly settled me. Just knowing there was that much fight in her calmed my nerves slightly.

Seeing the real anger in her eyes, I pulled her into my arms.

"Hey," I said softly, kissing the top of her head. I felt her tense in my arms and then instantly soften. "Sorry," I murmured. "I don't want to see anything happen to you. I'm not sure I could survive it."

She relaxed even more and sighed against my chest. "I'm stronger than I look. I do have two black belts."

I remembered her telling me she'd spent most of her youth in karate and tae kwon do.

I nodded. "I have no doubt you can handle yourself. These guys, however, are really big and, well, if they bested me with one blow, I'm afraid what could happen if we both let our guard down."

She pulled back and looked up at me. Her eyes searched my face. I ran my gaze over her beauty, knowing every feature, even in the dimly lit parking lot. "Then we don't let our guard down." She glanced around the empty lot.

"Right." I brushed my lips quickly across hers, and then, stepping back, I took her hand in mine.

I followed Rayne through the parking lot, both of our senses on high alert as we approached the Gator Hole. The place, a ramshackle hut nestled against the shore of a bayou, looked like it had seen better days. String lights cast a dim glow over the outdoor seating area that surrounded the entire building.

Most of the walls had sliding glass doors on them that all sat open, allowing the warm summer breeze to blow through the entire building.

About two dozen patrons were lounging at picnic tables outside, sipping beers as they were enveloped in the humid Louisiana night.

"Definitely not what I expected," I muttered under my breath, scanning the crowd for any sign of the two men who had jumped me.

"Yeah, now I know why it's not on the travel guide for this area," she murmured.

As we made our way towards the bar area, a feeling of unease settled over me. In all my years undercover I'd only been bested once before and it had been in a fight ten to one. I'd hobbled away from that fight with more than one broken bone.

The air thickened with the scent of sweat, stale beer, and swamp. There was a banjo playing somewhere and the noise grew louder as we made our way towards the bar. The sound filled the outdoor space, and the twangy melody that reverberated through my bones.

Rayne glanced at me, her eyes reflecting the flickering lights overhead. "You sure about this?" she asked, her voice low but determined.

I nodded, my jaw set with resolve. "Yeah, we've come this far," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. My concern for her safety somehow had my fears doubling.

The busty redhead behind the bar eyed us with suspicion as we leaned against the old wood countertop. To be honest, I couldn't blame her. We were outsiders in a place where locals obviously ruled. She seemed to regard us as if we were a puzzle as we approached.

"Can I help you two?" she asked, her voice laced with a thick Southern drawl I'd been faking for over a year.

"We're looking for a couple of guys," Rayne said, her tone steady. "Big, mean-looking fellas. They jumped my man last week and took off with his ride. You know anyone like that around here?"

The redhead's eyes narrowed slightly, but she shook her head. "Can't say I do," she said, her tone guarded. "If you ain't buying a drink, you'd best move on."

I exchanged a glance with Rayne, and we both knew what that meant. We were on our own in this place, with no one to watch our backs but each other.

"Beer," I said, slapping a twenty down on the bar.

With a nod, the redhead cracked open two cold bottles with the bottle opener on her belt buckle and set them down in front of us. The twenty disappeared into her jean shorts pocket, and she turned away without getting me any change back.

We made our way deeper into the dimly lit area and found two chairs to sit down in. The sound of laughter and conversation was barely audible over the loud banjo music. We scanned the faces around us for any sign of the men. So far, no one seemed to fit the description.

We hardly spoke as we focused on watching everyone who was watching us. It was very obvious tensions were high now that we were there.

But as the minutes stretched into hours, it became increasingly clear that finding those two men wouldn't be easy.

"I doubt they're going to show," she said under her breath. "I think we made our point. Most likely, word has spread that we're looking for them. This could really mess things up. Us being here. Together."

"Right," I agreed.

After two hours of listening to the music and sipping warm beer, Rayne and I made our way out of the Gator Hole. Somehow, the night air felt heavier than before, suffused with tension and the promise of danger. We had come up empty-handed, and I could feel the frustration gnawing at the edges of my resolve.

But before we could even reach the parking lot, a pair of shadows emerged from the darkness, blocking our path. My hand instinctively went to the holster at my waist where my backup weapon sat, but I forced myself to stay calm while my senses remained on high alert.

I was right. The two men were huge and easily loomed over us, casting a menacing shadow in the dim light. They were the same ones who had jumped me a few days back, I was instantly sure of it. I could see that they recognized me when both of their faces twisted into smirks of triumph.

"Well, well, well," one of them drawled, his voice dripping with malice. "Looks like we found ourselves a couple of marks. This one's come back for another whooping."

Rayne stepped forward, her stance defiant. "We're not looking for trouble," she said, her voice steady despite the danger that lurked. "But if you want to start something, I'll wager that we'll finish it."

The men exchanged a glance, a silent communication passing between them. Then, without warning, they burst out laughing.

"Go on home to your daddy, little girl," one of them said.

"Where's my bike?" I asked in a firm tone. Both men's smiles turned harder.

"It's ours now. Along with everything else that punk owed us."

"So you killed Mason Williamson because he owed you money?" Rayne asked as she lifted her chin.

I watched as both men went on high alert.

"You're that little cop girl from Gemsville, ain't you?" one of them asked. "Your daddy runs things over there."

"We didn't do shit to no one," the other said when Rayne didn't reply.

We were losing them. If I didn't do something quickly to turn the conversation around, we'd walk away empty-handed.

Stepping forward, I said, "I don't give a shit about anything but getting my bike back," I said, trying to veer the conversation away from the fact that I had made the drop and now I was here with a cop.

"Like we said, it was payment." Then, without warning, both men lunged forward, their fists swinging in a flurry of blows right at Rayne.

I reacted instinctively, knocking Rayne out of the way from the first fist. The blow landed on my left shoulder and bounced off. Then I was busy ducking and weaving as I fought to keep both men at bay. Rayne was right beside me, her movements fluid and precise as she landed blow after blow on one of the attackers, which almost seemed to bounce off the heavy-set man. Thankfully, she was quick and easily ducked whenever the guy reached for her.

Despite my best efforts, I knew I was losing. The men were bigger, stronger, and seemed to be fueled by a rage that knew no bounds.

I took blow after blow on my already bruised body and felt winded and unprepared. I was too concerned about Rayne's safety to care about my own.

Hearing her grunt when the man landed a hit, I felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, dulling the pain and sharpening my focus.

Just as I laid out the one man that I'd been fighting, red and blue lights lit up the parking lot and suddenly we were surrounded by Madison County police. My heart sank as I realized what this meant—we were caught in the middle of a mess we hadn't anticipated.

Did Rayne's authority run to this county? Shit. As with all the times before when I'd ended up in situations like this, my cover was too deep to break. Even now.

"Hands where I can see them!" a voice boomed over a megaphone, cutting through the chaos of the fight, while light blinded us all. Rayne and I exchanged a glance, both knowing that we needed to comply.

"Shit," the last big guy who was still standing said under his breath. Then he kicked his buddy in the ribs. "Wake up, Earl," he said as he slowly lifted his hands.

Slowly, Rayne and I raised our hands.

I knew that if word of me and Rayne getting arrested got back to the Reapers, it could be the end of my mission.

As the officers closed in on us, their weapons drawn and their faces grim, I couldn't help but wonder how we had ended up in this mess. All we had wanted was to find answers, to bring justice to those who deserved it. To a high school kid who had gotten involved with the wrong people.

"I'm police," Rayne said. "I can show you my?—"

"Don't matter," the officer said. "I know who you are. You're in my county now." The man yanked Rayne's arms behind her. "You can't just come into my home and make a mess." He glanced over at the still-conscious man. "Bobby, get Earl and head on home."

This was bad, really bad. We were just trying to do our jobs, but now it looked like we were the ones in trouble and the two real crooks were going to walk free. Rayne's eyes met mine and we knew we were in it deep.

As the officers took us into custody, I made a silent vow to myself—we would get through this, no matter what. Even if it meant the end of my assignment, we'd come out of whatever hillbilly, bullshit, crooked-cop crap we'd just stepped in. Together.

Several hours later, and after a few new bruises were given to me by my arresting officers, I walked out of the station with Rayne.

"You okay?" she asked, eyeing me.

"Yup," I said, holding in a groan. I nodded to where Randy Cordova stood leaning against his car, watching us.

"It looks like you two stepped in it pretty bad this time," Randy said, running his eyes over me. "Anything broken?" he asked.

I shook my head. "My pride."

"I'm guessing those were Sheriff Dupont's sons that jumped us?" Rayne groaned.

Randy nodded. "Yup. How about I take you two to breakfast?" He motioned towards his car. "I'm afraid your Jeep got towed. They'll hold it until Monday," he told Rayne. "Probably charge you an extra couple hundred to get it out, just because you're mine." He wrapped his arm around Rayne for a moment. "Next time you come out here, give me a heads up."

Rayne sighed and held onto her father. "Yeah, I thought we could slip under the radar. I had no clue it was the Dupont brothers that jumped Jameson. I haven't seen them in years. They've gotten a lot bigger. I guess I should have known."

As we climbed into Randy's car, the early morning sun cast long shadows across the empty streets of the small town. It appeared that every cop in this county wanted to use me as a punching bag. I could honestly say I was going to be happy to leave the town behind us.

Relief washed over me as I breathed in the fresh air. I climbed in the car, grateful for Randy's timely intervention.

"Thanks for bailing us out," I said.

Randy started up the car and glanced in the mirror at me. "No problem at all," he replied, his voice gruff but friendly. "This will be a bitch to keep quiet though. You might have to rearrange a few things. There's no keeping this from the Reapers. Several of them are from Madison County."

"Yeah." I nodded. "It will probably move up my timeline." I sighed, too tired to focus on what it meant beyond the moment.

As we headed out of town, I noticed that everyone was just beginning to stir awake, the quiet hum of morning traffic filling the air.

On the outskirts of the little town, we pulled over to a gas station that had a small dinner.

The place was a quaint little place with its neon sign flickering invitingly in the early morning fog. As we stepped inside, the smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee enveloped us, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

Much like at the bar the night before, when we walked in, everyone turned to watch us.

"Clayton folks don't get along much with Gemsville folks," Randy said under his breath. "Still, they won't mess with me." He smiled as he led us to a booth in the corner. As I sat down, I tried not to groan as pain shot through my ribs. What I needed was an ice pack, a few aspirin, and sleep.

Randy wasted no time in getting down to business after ordering his coffee.

"So, what the hell happened back there?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern. "All I heard was that you two got into some trouble with the sheriff's boys."

I exchanged a glance with Rayne, knowing that there was no point in hiding the truth from our friend.

"Bobby and Earl Dupont jumped us," I replied, my voice grim. "We were just leaving the bar."

"They're running a drug ring in their father's county," Rayne said, her voice low but determined. "And it appears they've been selling stolen vehicles on the side. They're the ones who jumped…" She stopped and looked at me. I nodded, assuring her that she could tell Randy everything.

After she quickly ran through what had happened to me the other night in the hotel, Randy's eyes widened in disbelief, and his jaw slacked with shock. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "That's some serious shit."

I nodded, my thoughts racing as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the past few days. "We need to figure out our next move," I said, my voice determined. "I have a feeling those two aren't going to stop. And when word of last night gets to the Reapers, my cover will be blown."

Rayne took my hand under the table. "We'll deal with what comes next," she said to me.

We ordered food and ate in silence after a group of people came and sat in the booth beside ours.

I wanted to spend more time with Rayne, but when Randy stopped in the parking lot a few blocks from my place, I knew we wouldn't have time. Besides, I had to get back to work and assess the damage last night had caused.

"We'll talk," I told Rayne and slid out of the car. "Thanks again," I said to Randy.

The moment I stepped through my door, I knew just how deep of shit I was in.

Felix lounged on my sofa, sipping a cup of coffee.

"I heard you and that pretty little detective went and had yourselves some fun last night," Felix said, glancing me up and down.

I took one step into the room and then Ben appeared out of nowhere behind me.

"I told her that I'd been jumped after crashing my bike. She told me she had a lead on my shit and was trying to help me get my phone back," I said, trying to relax.

Felix's eyes narrowed. "Funny thing," he said, setting his cup down on my coffee table. "I thought we were your family?"

"You are," I said, taking another step. I was still armed but there was no way I'd pull a gun on Felix. Not yet. He was trying to make a point. I fucked up and I knew it.

"Then why the fuck are you running to some cop for help?" Felix's voice rose.

"I didn't run. She offered and, well"—I smiled—"I was horny."

Felix's eyes narrowed. "That may have played a month ago." He stood slowly. "You cut us. Cut us deep." He nodded to Ben, who had moved behind me.

Ben grabbed my arms and held them. I knew what was coming, so I relaxed into the first of Felix's blows. To be honest, the Dupont brothers and the cops who had locked me up had hit harder.

It was obvious that Felix was going easy on me.

When I was kneeling on the ground, gasping for air, Felix hovering over me, he added, "Cut your family out again and we might just cut back," Felix warned as he yanked my hair. "You'll have your shit back, including your bike, by nightfall. If you need a fuck, use Izzy or one of our other girls." He dropped his hold on my hair and walked out.

"Clean yourself up. We have a job to do," Ben said once Felix was gone.

I glanced up at Ben. "For real?"

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Since it appears you're healed enough from getting jumped, Felix wants us to take a drive."

I stood up and nodded. "I need a shower," I said motioning towards my bathroom.

Ben nodded. "I'll head downstairs and grab us some sandwiches and coffee."

"Thanks," I said, disappearing into my bathroom.

Shit. What in the hell did I just get away with? More importantly, what was I heading into?

Was Ben taking me out to get rid of me? Was this some ruse to lower my guard? Did they suspect me?

I was getting so tired of playing this game. It had over a year and I was no closer to finding out who was pulling Felix's strings than I had when I'd first come to town.

I itched to send a text to Rayne or Jasmine. Instead, I showered and changed, and when Ben knocked on my door, I left with him.

I sat back in his truck while he downed a bagel sandwich and sipped coffee. I even filled him in on spending the night in jail.

Since he and Felix already knew what had happened, I figured I'd stick to the story that Rayne had offered to help me find all my stuff that had been swiped. Which was true.

Hopefully, they wouldn't read anything more into the situation other than an ex-lover trying to help me out of a bind.

I was surprised when we drove straight up to the Taylor house and parked next to a shiny, souped-up, cherry red Mustang.

"Looks like someone's enjoying his new income." Ben chuckled as he got out of the car.

New income? I glanced at the house. So, Henry Taylor was new to the business. Not the head of it.

"Want me to wait here?" I asked.

"Not this time," Ben said, motioning for me to follow him.

We stood on the front porch and waited for the door to open.

Seeing Wyatt Taylor grinning back at us after he opened the door slightly surprised me, but not as much as seeing who was standing behind him. My entire world shifted.