Ryan Michele - Wanting You

Kinsley joined in my laughter. “Well it sure as hell isn’t gonna be boring around here with your wicked mind.”

“Hey, don’t knock it. Writing has been really good to me. I love my fans. There are only a few that freak me out, but I don’t let those ruin it for the others.” I said flippedly.

“If you don’t do book signings, how do people know anything about you?”

I shrugged. “Internet and social media. I’m an indie author, so I rely heavily on bloggers and word of mouth for my work. I have a pretty good following and made some good friends so that all works in my favor.”

“So Gabriella Daniels. I get the Daniels, that’s your Grams’s last name. Where did you come up with Gabriella? You’ve never said.”

I smirked. “Babynames.com.” Kinsley started laughing. “No really, I did. I had no clue what my pen name should be so I searched. Gabriella stuck.” After searching page after page of names.

“I thought maybe it was your great great grandma’s name or had some significance.”

I shut my laptop, setting it on the table. I knew I was done writing for the moment. “Nope. Eenie Meenie Miney Mo. Done. I liked the way it sounded.”

“It’s awesome. I love it. How’d you learn about pen names?”

I stared at her for a moment collecting my thoughts. “When I was in college a professor talked all about pen names and how some writers like their privacy. For me, I didn’t want my personal stuff getting out, mainly my mom being a drunk and, well, my dad being an ass. I wanted to deal with that shit on my own.”

“Are you going to tell anyone here?” Kinsley asked.

“Nope, the only ones who know are you, Saw, Grams and my editor, but I have a signed contract from my lawyer saying she can’t talk.” And thank God for that. I’d heard tons of shit has been getting leaked these last few months after some ‘investigations’ into author’s real information. I just prayed mine didn’t leak and get into the wrong hands.

“How many books have you published?”

I loved that Kinsley was taking an interest in my books. I might not be the highest paid or most sought after author, but I was proud of my accomplishments. “Right now, seventeen. I started when I left here and never stopped.”

“Vann!” Sawyer yelled from the house.

“What!” I yelled back immediately.

“You’re phone’s been vibrating all over my counter. Would you pick it up already?” Sawyer huffed.

“Yeah! Hang on. We good?” I asked Kinsley.

“Yep. We’re going out tonight. Get ready.” Kinsley hopped up, grabbing my arm to ‘help’ me up.

Groaning, I complained, “No, I really don’t want to. Look at last night. I don’t want to do it again.”

“We’re not going there. You won’t see him. Get ready, we’re leaving in an hour and a half.” I knew I wasn’t going to let him rule my emotions, but I’d be damned if I was going to see him the night after his asshole behavior. I needed a little mental breather.

“Great.” I plastered on a fake smile.

Entering the kitchen, smells engulfed me. “God, Saw what are you making?”

“My momma’s chicken parm. Get in the shower so we can eat and still have time to get ready,” she said while stirring something on the stove.

“Fine.” Grabbing my phone off the counter, I saw I had six missed calls, all from Grams. She could be so persistent. Hitting send, she answered on the second ring. “Hey Grams, What’s up?”

“You avoiding my calls?” Grams teased.

“No. I was writing.”

“Uh-huh. Anywho … I called Keith, and we are doing dinner tomorrow night!” I loved hearing the excitement in her voice.

“All right, what time?”

“I eat early. So be here at four. Keith said he and his clan could get here around four-thirty, so I’m planning on eating no later than five.”

“No problem. I’ll be there.”

“Love you, Savannah.”

“Love you, too, and see you tomorrow.”

After saying our goodbyes, it was time for me to get ready for what I was sure would be an eventful evening.

What a fucking day. No amount of kicking, punching, or jabbing at the gym helped get that little blonde out of my fucking head. She was stuck there like some disease—one I thought I cured a long ass time ago. No, she had to bring her ass back here and stir up shit. Fucking shit-stirrer.

And then to think I called her name out when I was fucking Mindy. How fucked is that? In all the years, I had never called a chick another woman’s name. Ever. I actually prided myself on that considering how many women have had my dick in them over the years. That was also why I switched to sweetheart—helped a lot.

Why the hell did she have to be a fucking knock out? If she were anyone else, she would’ve been under me last night. No question about it. I would have fucked her every possible way I could, and then I’d have done it again. But no. She had to be Vann.

“Deke?” Z’s head popped around my office door.

“What?”

“Glad I caught you in a good mood. You’re gonna love this.” Z tossed a manila folder onto the desk. Opening it up, I saw a picture of him. The asshole we’d been after for the past two fucking years—his scraggly haired, tattooed face staring back at me. What I wouldn’t give to find this asshole and end him, for good. Most of the papers I had seen many times; I practically had them memorized, but one stuck out.

“You see it?” Z asked.

“Yeah, I fucking see it.”

“You’re going in as a buyer,” Z announced.

“I figured. I’m gonna need good cover.” Last time I was face-to-face with this douche was a few years ago when I beat him to a fucking pulp. I’d have to change up my looks a bit. At least I was bigger now; that would help.

“Yeah. Working on that.” Z sighed. “You gonna let your personal shit go so we can do this?”

“Fuck no, it’s my personal shit that keeps me doing this,” I growled. Like I could forget the fucking reason I wanted this asshole. I’d prefer him six feet underground, but since I liked my freedom, this was the next best thing. I would just make sure that he had a great roommate in the pen.

“You gotta keep your cool or they’re gonna throw your ass off.” I knew that. I wasn’t official anymore. I gave that up when the rules fucking sucked at catching the scum of the earth. I couldn’t sit around waiting for all the red tape to clear before doing what needed to be done. This was a better option for me. I helped them out my own way, but still had the back up if I needed it.

“Sullivan!” Captain Craiger called.

“Yes sir.”

“Come take a seat and shut the door.” I knew this wasn’t good. Captain only called you in his office and shut the door for disciplinary shit. I knew why I was there. I just didn’t want to deal with the bullshit of it.

I did as he instructed and took a seat in front of his desk.

“Look son, that shit you pulled out there the other day, we can’t have it. Too much paperwork and it comes down hard on the whole force. This is the third time.”

This time I couldn’t help it. The little fucking weasel deserved having his ass kicked for selling dope to a thirteen year old kid. I would have killed him had my partner not pulled me off him.

“I know.” I was going to say I was sorry, but thought better of it. I wasn’t sorry. He was too fucking high to give a shit anyway.

“And I know you’d do it again in heartbeat.” Captain blew out a deep breath. “Look son, I have a team and I want you to be part of it. You are too good to let go, and this might be right up your alley, but no one can ever know. Officially you will be discharged from the force.”

I immediately accepted.

“I’ve got this,” I said, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

“Meet Sam at your place at seven. She’s gonna fix your ass so you can buy. At nine, we’re gonna roll into Schooner’s. I’m hanging back, you’re doing the exchange.”

“Got it. Gotta talk to Ace.”

* * *

Sam worked her magic. Looking in the mirror, I didn’t even recognize myself. My hair was now black as coal hanging long to my shoulders. It was gonna drive me crazy as fuck, but I’d get over it. Contacts changed my blue eyes to green, and the goatee was a nice touch. I grabbed a long-sleeved polo and some jeans. The shit I was buying cost good money, so I needed to make sure I looked like I had it.

Grabbing my shades and tucking my gun in my boots, I was as ready as I was gonna get.

Heading out, Z was in a beautiful Camaro parked at the curb. “Like it?” He smirked.

I whistled. “Hell yeah. How’d you swing this?”

“Connections.” Sam did a bang up job on him, too. I wouldn’t have known it was him had I not been expecting him.

“Dumbass.”

Pulling up to Schooner’s, the place looked busy, which was good for what I needed to do. We were just getting a sample this time, pictures of the transaction, audio from the wire I had on, but no arrests. I didn’t understand the fucking wire; it would be loud as shit in there. They wouldn’t be able to pick anything up.

Scoping out the place, I couldn’t see him. “I’m gonna take a walk,” I called out to Z after grabbing my beer. I knew there were guys in here, and probably some women, too, watching my every move. I also knew they only stepped in if I needed it.

I scanned the place as I walked, but nothing. Intel said he’d be here tonight. Damn it. The dance floor was packed wall-to-wall with people. So many hot chicks, but I needed to get this shit done first. “Fuck,” I murmured to myself.