The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Third Person

"You’re looking at twenty-five years to life, minimum."

Victoria’s jaw dropped as she glared at the detective. "What? Why?"

The man gave her a bored look and counted them off in a bored monotone. "Accessory to murder, money laundering, and conspiracy. And that’s before the feds finish digging through your secret accounts."

"Twenty-five years?" Victoria’s lawyer, Stan, leaned forward.

"She’s cooperating. She’s been sitting here for six hours answering questions. That has to count for something."

The detective was not amused.

"Cooperating? She’s been giving us crumbs and names we already know. All the locations she mentioned, we’ve already raided." He slapped a file folder onto the table.

"We want Wolfe. We want him tonight. And she’s going to get him for us, or she’s going to die in prison."

Victoria remembered Finnegan’s threat and knew the detective was working with him.

"What are you offering?"

"You’ll get immunity on the financial crimes," he replied curtly. "We’ll help make sure your prison sentence is reduced. Five years, maybe seven, with good behavior. You could be out in three."

"Three years?" Victoria laughed bitterly. "For helping you catch him? Devin will kill me."

"Then you’d better be convincing enough that he doesn’t. The plan is simple. You call him. You tell him you’re in trouble. You tell him you love him and need his help. You wear a wire, and you lead us right to him."

Victoria looked down at her hands. The red nail polish was chipped. Devin had always liked red. "And if he finds the wire? If he kills me before you can move in?"

"Then you die knowing you did the right thing for once in your miserable life," he shrugged.

"Hey!" Her lawyer snapped.

The detective spread his hands. "Or you take twenty-five years. Your choice."

Twenty minutes later, Victoria stood in a small room next to the interrogation area, wearing fresh clothes.

She was so relieved to be out of the disgusting orange vest that she clutched the cashmere top tightly. A technician named Eddie taped a thin microphone to her sternum, running the wire up under her clothes.

"Is it secure?" she demanded.

"Just keep your distance from him and you’ll be fine,"

Victoria closed her eyes. It wasn’t exactly easy betraying a man she had loved for years, but he had abandoned her here and was planning to leave the country without her.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew Abigail was right. He would have come for her if he cared. She loved him, but Victoria would always love herself more.

She opened her eyes and dialed his number on the phone that had been returned to her. Her stomach twisted with nerves with every ring. Then he picked up.

"Devin." She faked a crying voice, sniffing.

"Devin, I managed to escape prison. I’m scared, Devin. I don’t know what to do."

"Shh," he soothed, and she could picture him, his green eyes burning. "You can’t just say stuff like that over the phone, Victoria!"

"I’m sorry, I need to see you," she cried. "I need to get out of here before they notice I’m gone. Can I... can I come to you? Just tell me where you are. Please. I can’t do this alone. I need you, Devin. Don’t abandon me!"

Devin paused for a long moment, and she held her breath, crossing her fingers.

"Fine," he finally said. "Old warehouse district. The red one at the end. There’s a gap in the fence on the east side. I’ll wait for you there."

"Thank you," she breathed. "I love you. I’m coming."

"Hurry, or I’ll leave without you."

The line went dead. Victoria lowered the phone. Her hands shook so badly she could barely set it back on the table.

The detectives now knew the area Devin was in. They contacted Abigail and Finnegan immediately and followed Victoria to the warehouse district on the outskirts of the city, watching from afar as she met up with Devin in the night.

The warehouse district reeked as Victoria pinched her nose, convincing herself this was all she had to do to earn a reduced sentence.

Wasn’t that wonderful? Devin would go to prison, Gina was dead, and she would be the only one left who knew about their stash. A life of luxury was waiting.

She found the gap in the fence, just as Devin had described, and called out into the night.

"Devin? I’m here,"

He appeared suddenly behind her, gun in hand. His eyes were wild, darting past her into the darkness.

"Stop there," he commanded, raising the gun. "Turn around. Slowly."

"Devin, it’s me,"

"Turn around!"

She obeyed, her heart hammering, arms outstretched. She felt his eyes on her before he stepped forward, reaching for her.

"Come here," he grunted.

She rushed into his arms. He pulled her close, burying his face in her neck.

"I knew you would come for me," he murmured against her skin. "I knew you wouldn’t abandon me. Everyone else has — my men, my contacts, even my own blood brother. But not you, you’re still—"

The click of a gun in the night had Devin stiffening. He whipped his head up, telling himself he hadn’t imagined it.

His eyes met Victoria’s, and he saw the guilt in them.

"You bitch," he snarled, shoving her backward with such force that she stumbled. "You set me up!"

"Move! Move! Move!" The shout erupted from every direction as police swarmed in. Dozens of officers poured through the fence gap, and a beam of light fell on Devin.

"Police! Hands up! Drop the weapon!"

Devin fired wildly, sending the officers diving for cover. He grabbed Victoria’s arm, wrenching her toward him, using her as a shield, but she twisted free, screaming, and broke loose.

She dropped to the gravel as bullets whizzed past her head.

"Freeze, Wolfe! Drop it now!"

Devin didn’t freeze. He bolted toward the warehouse where his captives were. Bullets sparked off the containers around him.

"After him! Go! Go!"

Victoria lay on the ground, hands over her head, as officers rushed past her into the warehouse district.

Devin burst through the door of the warehouse, gun raised, to see Marissa and Gerald Kellerman partially untied, Abigail kneeling beside them with a knife in her hand, and Finnegan standing in front of them, blocking Devin’s path, while police officers rushed in behind him, forming a wall.

"Drop the weapon! Drop it now!"

Devin didn’t hear them. All he could see was his twin brother, who had stolen his birthright, his father’s love, his empire.

The man who had everything Devin had ever wanted, and yet Finnegan didn’t value it and was going to throw it all away for a fucking woman.

"DIE, BROTHER!"