Page 19 of Lethal Justice

Chapter Eleven

After takinga quick shower to get rid of all the sweat and stress from his workout, Malco felt more human again. The shock of finding out Frida was related to the Dead Kings, and his brother’s murderer had rendered him speechless. He’d felt trapped, all the pain and helplessness of losing his brother coming to the forefront of his mind like a hammer to the head. It was difficult to fight the darkness, which was why he tried to remember happier times with Jay. How much he’d liked to laugh, the love he had for his Camilla. How he’d dreamed of a life with her away from all the danger, traveling with her, especially to Africa for a safari. That had surprised him, but Jay shrugged and said that it was Camilla’s dream and so it became his, and it made him happy too. Now that dream was dead with the two young lovers. A tragedy that brought him back to the present and Frida.

Running had been a dick move and not one he was proud of. Even as he’d left, he’d seen the confused, hurt look on Frida’s face and known he was an asshole for doing it. Regardless, he knew he wasn’t fit to be around anyone until he could process how he felt about this turn of events.

After losing his leg to a landmine, he’d spent hundreds of hours processing the loss. Guilt because others had been less fortunate and lost their lives and yet angry that it had happened at all. It had taken a long time to accept the loss of his leg and longer still to not let the pitying looks make him want to throw something. It was why he didn’t date a lot or actively tell people.

It changed how they saw him, and he didn’t want that. It had nothing to do with embarrassment or shame. He’d lost his leg defending his country and saved a young boy in the process. Shame never came into it; he just couldn’t be bothered with people who only saw his prosthesis and felt sorry for him.

He was a lot better off than most, and he lived his life proud of who he was. Alliance and the team were the only ones he felt comfortable enough around to not hide it. They understood it. They were all veterans in some way or other and treated him exactly the same.

He should have known Frida wouldn’t care either. She was as real as they came, and her attitude toward his leg cemented what he had come to realize as he’d pummeled the punch bag. He liked her—a lot. They fit in a way he hadn’t seen coming, and her being who she was, although a huge shock, seemed as if perhaps somehow the universe was righting a wrong.

Malco walked from his room and found her on the phone. She smiled as she caught sight of him, and her look made his blood heat. Moving forward, he slipped his arms around her waist from behind, giving her ample room to pull away if she wanted. He wanted to make it up to her, going off as he had was not okay, and he needed them to be okay.

She leaned back into him as she spoke with her assistant on the phone, and he laid his chin on her shoulder.

“Rina, can you scan those files and send them over on a secure server, please?” He felt her nod. “Yes, ask Shane or Cleo if you need to. I need to see them ASAP.”

Frida hung up and settled into his body with a small sigh.

“Everything all right?”

She nodded, but when she spoke, she sounded worried. “Rina found details of large payments to an MPD Union fund from the DA’s office.”

“Is that allowed?” Malco freely admitted that politics wasn’t his cup of tea. Frida tilted her head to him, and her lips turned down as she pulled free of his arms. “Yes and no. It isn’t illegal per se, but it isn’t exactly ethical either. What is interesting, though, is that Rina found links between a number of cops in the Union and questionable treatment of alleged gang member victims.” Malco moved to pour them both coffees, lifting the pot in question. “Yes, please. I have a feeling it may be a long night.”

He poured them both one and moved toward the back of the house where his home office was set up. It was large and sleek, with a couch, a massive glass desk along the left wall, and floor to ceiling windows facing the back-deck area, with a sliding door to the right.

“Wow, this is impressive.”

He turned and winked. “You should see my Star Wars collection.”

Frida looked at him, unsure if he was joking or not. “You do not have a Star Wars collection.”

“I most assuredly do. If you’re good, I’ll show you later.” He moved closer at her flirty smile and took her mug from her and set it beside his on the desk.

“I want to kiss you, but I’m scared I may have frightened you off with my outburst earlier.”

Frida cupped his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her soft palm.

“You didn’t scare me off. I’m made of tougher stuff than that. I had to be.”

“I’m sorry I ran. I just needed to process it, and I didn’t want anyone to see that.”

“I understand, I do, but even if we’re just having wild sex, you can’t run without telling me. You scared me and hurt me, and I won’t allow that from anyone, not ever again.”

“Deal. Next time, if there is a next time, and I hope there isn’t, I’ll tell you I need a minute.”

“Good, now kiss me before Rina sends this paperwork through, and I have no more time for kissing.” Malco dipped his head and, with his lips against hers, whispered, “Oh baby, there’s always time for kissing.” Then he did just that, kissing her slowly, deeply until he felt her sag in his arms, as hers came around his neck and she pushed her breasts against his hard chest. He broke off with a heaving groan before he took it any further. They didn’t have time for what he wanted to do to her, not until the kids were safe from the gangs and the trouble that was brewing. With one more touch of his lips to hers, he stepped away, steadying her as he did.

“Time to go to work, Counselor.”

Opening his laptop, he went to work as Frida settled in at the desk beside him and did the same. They worked silently for a few hours before the ringing of his phone broke the silence. Standing, he stepped into the hallway to take the call, not wanting to disturb Frida.

“Hello.”

“Malco.” The voice on the other end of the line was barely discernible, and he had to listen hard to hear it.