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Not surprising considering all the cops in Queen City are on my payroll. Certainly wasn’t going to be one of them pulling me over.
“Can you step out of the car for me, sir?” A clean-cut man I’d peg somewhere in his late thirties issues the question as more of a command.
Fuck it. With the mood I’m in right now, there isn’t anything that could possibly ruin my night. After our first round, Daph and I fucked like rabbits for hours. She told me Lucian and Caleb were out having a boys’ night, which I found odd considering I knew he had plans with J tonight. A quick “What you doing?” text to my sister confirmed Caleb had come to watch movies with her at my parents’ place after having dinner with Luc, and was crashing in one of the guest bedrooms for the night, proving once again that Luc is a lying piece of shit.
Fearing that blowing his cover would result in shortening my evening with Daph, I decided to keep this information to myself and asked JP to text me when Luc was leaving the party. The motherfucker was going to get caught anyway, considering his alibi is literally her best friend’s boyfriend. At this point, I’m not sure if he’s stupid or just doesn’t give a shit. It’s not gonna matter soon anyway. Like I said, he won’t be a factor much longer.
I shove open the door, climbing from the car with a smile.
“Something funny?” his partner snaps, pulling my attention to another agent standing off to the side, this one much closer to my age.
“Not at all.” My smile widens, my unperturbed demeanor clearly triggering the younger of the two men. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“I’m Special Agent Lewis,” the older man introduces himself. “This is Special Agent Bosc. FBI.”
Called it.
“We’re new in town and thought it about time we introduced ourselves.”
“Do you often make a habit of pulling over random taxpayers so you can introduce yourselves?”
“I think we both know you aren’t a random taxpayer, Mr. Conners.”
“Am I supposed to know what you’re implying?”
“Cut the shit, Nicky C.” Agent Bosc—the douchier of the two—sneers my name as though it personally offends him. “We know exactly who you are.”
“Do you?” I snicker at the extent to which this idiot is overcompensating.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Listen, I can whip my dick out if you want to measure, or you could just tell me what the fuck you want.”
The asshole starts to step to me, though is forced to stand down when Agent Lewis extends his arm. “Mr. Conners, does the name Hector Valdez mean anything to you?”
Memories of Rico slamming Valdez’s face into a table flash to the forefront of my mind.
“Nope. Can’t say it does.”
“Really? Well, then I guess you’d have no interest in knowing that as of last week, he’s back in New York.”
Considering I don’t believe in coincidences, that interests me very much. So much so, that alarms sound in my head at the revelation, though my face remains neutral. “If that’s everything, I’ll just be going.”
“Not so fast, tough guy.” Bosc slaps a file folder against my chest, patting his palm against it.
I briefly glance down at the offending appendage before returning my gaze to his. “Do you value your hand, Special Agent Bosc?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because if you’d like to keep it, I strongly suggest removing it.”
He scoffs. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you, hot shot?”
“Keep your hand on my chest and you’ll see how tough I am.”
“Is that a threat?” His free hand drifts down to the gun holstered on his hip.
“It’s a promise.”
