Savage Romance: A Rio FanFic

Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

Was this my life now? I was sleeping with a criminal, the one thing I swore I would protect this sorry country from. Criminals murdered my parents. Criminals are the reason my brother lost his mind and is now rotting away in a home. When I read the file on Leo Christopher Torres, also known as Rio, it chilled me to the bone. He has murdered innocent people, not so innocent people. I knew all of this. But still, I couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he looked at me. The fact that he could fuck me or kill me at any moment just added to my interest. I never said I was completely right in the head. How I passed the countless personality screens for the FBI, I will never know.

After Rio had left, I showered. I showered hard. I literally scrubbed my body until I was bleeding. I ran my hands over my sensitive area over and over. I had to try and get him off of me. This was insane. My life was over. How could I continue serving the United States Government in catching a thug when I was fucking said thug? But God, the way he touched me. The way his rough hands ran over every inch of my body. The way he looked at me. I don't know that a man has ever looked at me with so much...hunger before. The way he smiled at me as I came around him made me shake. What in the hell was I going to do?

Once I had showered, I dried off and got dressed. I had a text on my phone as well as a missed call on my work phone. I checked my burner phone first and saw that Rio had texted me.

Midnight. Better bring that fine ass of yours Back in one piece.- Rio

My heart jumped, and I couldn't help but smirk. I shook my head to snap myself out of it and picked up my work phone to see that Ron had called. I called him back and was told that I had the authorization to go to New Jersey. I found myself telling Ron that I may not have time to send over new case notes because I would be watched the entire two days I would be gone. But I knew that wasn't true. I knew Mick would not be watching me the whole time. But I had this instinct to protect Rio, and I knew giving more information on his organization would put him away for good. We were that close. This was my last stop, and I would have enough charges to lock him up for life. While a part of me wanted that, an even bigger part of me wanted to protect him. Why? Did I love him? No. Did I want to fuck him sideways every time I saw him? Absolutely. Did I get a feeling in my stomach that I hadn't had in a long time? Yes. I had a decision to make, I either hammer the last nail in the coffin and put Rio away or throw my entire career away for something new...something I was terrifyingly good at.

It turned out that Mick was not the only guy accompanying me on this business trip. A large fellow named Tony, who looked like he was from the medieval ages, sat in Mick's sports car's back seat, scrunched up. I offered to give him a shotgun, but he refused. While we were driving, I got a little bored and decided to look up Rio on Facebook. With some digging, I found him. I forgot he had a kid, a little boy. My heart sank. Would I really be okay with taking Rio away from his son?

"So how long you been in?" Mick asked.

"About four years now. You?" I asked. I already knew the answer. I knew a lot about Mick. The whole crew, really.

"My whole life." He said back, taking a drag off his cigarette. I nodded and leaned my head against the window. I eventually fell asleep and didn't wake up until we were in New Jersey. It was around ten a.m., and we were meeting the Jersey crew at a hotel room. Mick said that the cameras had been shut off, so we were good to go. I walked ahead of Mick and Tony, my heart rate rising with every clank of my boots. I was keeping my cool, but I was a wreck. My time to either put up or shut up was coming. I had to make a choice.

I knocked on the door, and a short and tan guy answered the door, his suit looking all flashy. He led us inside, and a tall, beefy version of him was sitting at the round table of the room, drinking an espresso. He eyed me most creepily and grunted. I knew who this was. This was Don Tucci.

"I didn't know Rio had a hot piece of ass workin' for him. Mmm." He said as he licked his lips. I smiled with disdain. "Might have to see if he would be willing to make a trade. I can tell you're Italian. You belong with a big Italian...." He started to say.

"Don't think that's possible. I'm Rio's." I said, Mick, looking at me briefly and smiling. Not with surprise, but with satisfaction. Like I had just confirmed something for him.

"Let's make this quick. Thirty percent for whatever is printed, we distribute, wash and transport. We need your printers. Drops are expected on the fifth of every month so that we would be picking up on the third." I said. The big guy eyed me for a moment.

"Forty." He countered. I laughed.

"Thirty-five."

"Deal. You gonna be making the pickups?" He asked as he shook my hand.

"No." I said, reluctantly shaking his hand.

"Damn shame. I'll see you soon." Don said as he waved the three of us off. We had to bounce before we aroused suspicion in the hotel lobby. I nodded once with a fake thin smile. Once we were back in the car, I offered to sit in the back. I had to write my report for Ron.

When we got back to Detroit, Mick had dropped me off back to my place, and the sun was almost down. I opened the front door and turned on the overhead lights to see Rio, sitting at my kitchen bar. I wasn't even startled. Instead, I smiled. He didn't return it.

"Hey." I breathed out as I set my keys on the counter. "What are you doing here?" I asked. He shrugged, not taking his eyes off of me. I grabbed Perrier water.

"Just checkin' to see how things went in Jersey." He lied.

"I'm sure Mick already filled you in." I said. I took a drink and turned my back to him, so I was facing the kitchen backsplash. He got up from the kitchen stool and came up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his hands roaming.

"Yeah. I suppose you're right. Ms. Lorenzo." He whispered in my ear. My blood, my body, my everything froze. He knew. He knew I was FBI. I was dead.