FBI.”
Kane obviously didn’t believe him. He stared at Syren with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. “Wha-what?”
“You won’t find me on the books, you won’t find anyone willing to acknowledge this.” Syren took Kane’s limp hand in his and brushed his thumb across his palm. “Very few people, five at the most, know about me and what I’m doing.”
Kane narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Taking down Delatorre. Dismantling his entire operation from the inside out.” He walked back to the banquette with Kane and sat. Kane hovered over him for a second then sank to the floor at his feet. “Look at me, Marshal.”
Kane tilted his head and met Syren’s gaze. The confusion was still there.
“I’m not an official FBI agent.” He cracked a smile. “Don’t want to be one, but I offered them a deal and they took it. I take down Delatorre, give them the Nietos and any others in the process and they bankroll it.”
“Just like that?”
“Definitely not just like that.” Not by a long shot. “I had to jump through hoops for those bastards. They let me handle the human trafficking part of Delatorre’s organization all by myself. As proof that I was on the up and up.”
Kane grasped his knee. “Delatorre doesn’t do trafficking anymore?”
“Insiders know he doesn’t, but not other traffickers.” Syren grimaced. “Every now and again we’ll get someone who wants to sell or buy and I handle it, set up a sting with the Feds and they take care of it.”
“How?” Kane rose on his knees, fingers painful on Syren’s thigh. “How did you manage that?”
Syren forced a smile. “The whippings are part of it.” A small part. “The price I have to pay for that. The Feds and the Brazilian government set up a sting and target all the players Delatorre normally dealt with. That put pressure on him. It really wasn’t that hard to whisper in his ear. Make him rethink it.” And offered myself up to sweeten the pot. This was perfect opportunity to bring Càtia up, but Syren couldn’t make himself do it.
“How long have you been doing this?” Kane demanded. “Living inside the lion’s den and playing for both sides?”
Syren shrugged. “The years have long blended together. Too long. That’s how long it’s been.”
“And Rafe knows.”
“He does.”
“You’re telling me this why? I didn’t have to know.”
Syren grabbed Kane’s hand on his thigh and twisted their fingers together. “I couldn’t keep it from you. I’ve been around a lot of people since I was rescued at fifteen, men and women. I’ve never wanted any of them to touch me. Hold me. I’ve never dreamed of any of them.” He lifted his head, searched Kane’s gaze. “You are everywhere. In my head, in my dreams. You are who I want. You make me feel and I— sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t, but you make me feel and after twenty years, that alone is enough for me to want things. Unattainable things. With you. From you.”
Chapter Six
Kane stared at the man next to him, into his eyes and felt himself falling. Slowly. Surely. He didn’t know his name, not really. Until today he could’ve said he was attracted to a bad guy and used that as the excuse to hold Faro at arm’s length.
Except his name wasn’t Faro. According to him. Nothing was proven. All he had was what the man said.
The man.
Syren Rua or Marcos whatever.
“Where were you born?” he asked. Because damn if he didn’t need answers. Full disclosure. He needed something to start making sense.
Syren—call him Syren—swallowed. “São Paulo, Brazil. My father was the biggest drug dealer there in the eighties. He went by the name Manuel Rua.”
“I know that name.” Kane sat back in amazement. “He and his entire family were massacred. No one was arrested for it, but everyone thought…” He shook his head at the entire sad tale. “Everyone thought Delatorre did it.”
Syren nodded as he wiped his eyes. “He ordered it, but he wasn’t there. I
Kane obviously didn’t believe him. He stared at Syren with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. “Wha-what?”
“You won’t find me on the books, you won’t find anyone willing to acknowledge this.” Syren took Kane’s limp hand in his and brushed his thumb across his palm. “Very few people, five at the most, know about me and what I’m doing.”
Kane narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Taking down Delatorre. Dismantling his entire operation from the inside out.” He walked back to the banquette with Kane and sat. Kane hovered over him for a second then sank to the floor at his feet. “Look at me, Marshal.”
Kane tilted his head and met Syren’s gaze. The confusion was still there.
“I’m not an official FBI agent.” He cracked a smile. “Don’t want to be one, but I offered them a deal and they took it. I take down Delatorre, give them the Nietos and any others in the process and they bankroll it.”
“Just like that?”
“Definitely not just like that.” Not by a long shot. “I had to jump through hoops for those bastards. They let me handle the human trafficking part of Delatorre’s organization all by myself. As proof that I was on the up and up.”
Kane grasped his knee. “Delatorre doesn’t do trafficking anymore?”
“Insiders know he doesn’t, but not other traffickers.” Syren grimaced. “Every now and again we’ll get someone who wants to sell or buy and I handle it, set up a sting with the Feds and they take care of it.”
“How?” Kane rose on his knees, fingers painful on Syren’s thigh. “How did you manage that?”
Syren forced a smile. “The whippings are part of it.” A small part. “The price I have to pay for that. The Feds and the Brazilian government set up a sting and target all the players Delatorre normally dealt with. That put pressure on him. It really wasn’t that hard to whisper in his ear. Make him rethink it.” And offered myself up to sweeten the pot. This was perfect opportunity to bring Càtia up, but Syren couldn’t make himself do it.
“How long have you been doing this?” Kane demanded. “Living inside the lion’s den and playing for both sides?”
Syren shrugged. “The years have long blended together. Too long. That’s how long it’s been.”
“And Rafe knows.”
“He does.”
“You’re telling me this why? I didn’t have to know.”
Syren grabbed Kane’s hand on his thigh and twisted their fingers together. “I couldn’t keep it from you. I’ve been around a lot of people since I was rescued at fifteen, men and women. I’ve never wanted any of them to touch me. Hold me. I’ve never dreamed of any of them.” He lifted his head, searched Kane’s gaze. “You are everywhere. In my head, in my dreams. You are who I want. You make me feel and I— sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t, but you make me feel and after twenty years, that alone is enough for me to want things. Unattainable things. With you. From you.”
Chapter Six
Kane stared at the man next to him, into his eyes and felt himself falling. Slowly. Surely. He didn’t know his name, not really. Until today he could’ve said he was attracted to a bad guy and used that as the excuse to hold Faro at arm’s length.
Except his name wasn’t Faro. According to him. Nothing was proven. All he had was what the man said.
The man.
Syren Rua or Marcos whatever.
“Where were you born?” he asked. Because damn if he didn’t need answers. Full disclosure. He needed something to start making sense.
Syren—call him Syren—swallowed. “São Paulo, Brazil. My father was the biggest drug dealer there in the eighties. He went by the name Manuel Rua.”
“I know that name.” Kane sat back in amazement. “He and his entire family were massacred. No one was arrested for it, but everyone thought…” He shook his head at the entire sad tale. “Everyone thought Delatorre did it.”
Syren nodded as he wiped his eyes. “He ordered it, but he wasn’t there. I
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