Intensity (Book One) *SAMPLE* (Published)

One

SIX MONTHS LATER

His steps were purposeful, determined, but done with ease, carrying him through the front door of the precinct and into a deep sea of black and blue. On the outside, Antonio was a clear picture of cool—dressed casually in a white T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and an expression that said he didn't have a single care in the world. On the inside, he was pissed to the highest degree like a raging bull, doing everything he could to maintain his composure.

The war waged by Detective Rich was longstanding, going back as far as his mid-teens. Now thirteen years later the man still had it out for him. Still, he was always going out of his way to throw shit in his path, hoping he would step in and failed every time.

"Sir! This area is for officers only. You can't go back there—Sir! Sir!"

The little old woman seated at the front desk ran behind him. Shouting to no avail, she was causing a scene that captured the attention of every officer within hearing distance. Despite the fact, Antonio kept walking until the man he was looking for descended the hallway, nose deep in the thick file he was carrying. As soon as they made eye contact, Detective Rich stopped mid-step with disdain overtaking his features. Whatever the words on those pages, they were quickly forgotten.

"I got it from here, Lida."

He waved her off, taking the few steps needed to get to his corner of the office. Neither man broke their gaze while the woman retreated, leaving them alone in a relatively private area. Rich caved first with a bit of humor curling his lips.

"Cortes. What an unpleasant surprise. It would be proper to offer you a seat—"

Before he had the chance to complete his sentence, Antonio slouched in the chair, one of his work boots placed on top of the same file the Detective had been reading. With his eyes only, he dared the cop to say something, touch the thick sole on the bottom, even. Egging anyone on was not his style, but it was necessary to take the position on offense and not allow his nemesis to see his mask slip.

"Where's Detective Dumb ass? I thought you girls didn't pee without one another. You must be lonely."

"Dumas is none of your concern. What do you want?"

Antonio stroked the short hairs on his chin, staring straight before speaking, "I came back from a meeting today to find my office a mess. Important documents—contracts, plans, records, blueprints—ripped. Expensive material destroyed."

"You want to file a report on it? Take that to the front desk. Have a nice day."

Antonio remained seated, didn't blink, or show any sign of moving.

"Cute. What I want, Detective, is to know what it was that you were looking for?" A single dark brow rose with the question.

Detective Rich took his seat, folding his hands in front of him neatly.

"Who says I was looking for something and not conducting a routine shakedown?"

Antonio smiled for the first time since walking into the building. A sincere yet taunting smile.

"Routine shakedown? My lawyer would love to argue the bases and legality of that in court considering my office is not a Correctional Facility. She'd have your badge and probably this entire building placed at my feet."

Casually he gazed around the room as if conducting a thorough assessment of it.

"If I knock out a few of these walls and manage to get the doughnut and cop stink out of here, I could turn this into a nice little after-hours spot. Beautiful girls dancing behind the bars you use to cage men like animals. Decorate the ceiling with handcuffs between light fixtures. I have the perfect job for you, too, Robert. How good are you at cleaning toilets?"