Malco came forward, and then her eyes caught on his prosthetic before she looked up. “You’re wrong. I don’t care about your leg, except I know it caused you pain. I hate to think of you hurting.”
He towered over her for a second before sitting beside her on the floor. “You say that, but I’ve learned over the years that not all women are comfortable with a veteran, even less with an amputee. It generally turns them off.”
His tone turned a little sarcastic, and somehow, it lightened the mood. She elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s a lot to process… I don’t know what to think about everything, but as for your leg, it’s not turning me off, because I don’t get turned on or off by feet or legs. They’re not my fetish. That mouth of yours, though, that’s real sexy. I’m still tingly from this morning.”
Even if there was still a lot to discuss, at least they’d cleared the air.
Malco leaned a little closer, his eyes smoldering. His heated body was getting to her, and she knew they had come to an understanding when his lips pressed against hers in the sweetest kiss.
She regretted everything he’d suffered but knew they could only move forward. They weren’t kids anymore and they had the power to save those kids from the Youth Center and clean the crooked cops out of their city.
Chapter Eleven
After taking a quick shower to get rid of all the sweat and stress from his workout, Malco felt more human again. The shock of finding out Frida was related to the Dead Kings, and his brother’s murderer had rendered him speechless. He’d felt trapped, all the pain and helplessness of losing his brother coming to the forefront of his mind like a hammer to the head. It was difficult to fight the darkness, which was why he tried to remember happier times with Jay. How much he’d liked to laugh, the love he had for his Camilla. How he’d dreamed of a life with her away from all the danger, traveling with her, especially to Africa for a safari. That had surprised him, but Jay shrugged and said that it was Camilla’s dream and so it became his, and it made him happy too. Now that dream was dead with the two young lovers. A tragedy that brought him back to the present and Frida.
Running had been a dick move and not one he was proud of. Even as he’d left, he’d seen the confused, hurt look on Frida’s face and known he was an asshole for doing it. Regardless, he knew he wasn’t fit to be around anyone until he could process how he felt about this turn of events.
After losing his leg to a landmine, he’d spent hundreds of hours processing the loss. Guilt because others had been less fortunate and lost their lives and yet angry that it had happened at all. It had taken a long time to accept the loss of his leg and longer still to not let the pitying looks make him want to throw something. It was why he didn’t date a lot or actively tell people.
It changed how they saw him, and he didn’t want that. It had nothing to do with embarrassment or shame. He’d lost his leg defending his country and saved a young boy in the process. Shame never came into it; he just couldn’t be bothered with people who only saw his prosthesis and felt sorry for him.
He was a lot better off than most, and he lived his life proud of who he was. Alliance and the team were the only ones he felt comfortable enough around to not hide it. They understood it. They were all veterans in some way or other and treated him exactly the same.
He should have known Frida wouldn’t care either. She was as real as they came, and her attitude toward his leg cemented what he had come to realize as he’d pummeled the punch bag. He liked her—a lot. They fit in a way he hadn’t seen coming, and her being who she was, although a huge shock, seemed as if perhaps somehow the universe was righting a wrong.
Malco walked from his room and found her on the phone. She smiled as she caught sight of him, and her look made his blood heat. Moving forward, he slipped his arms around her waist from behind, giving her ample room to pull away if she wanted. He wanted to make it up to her, going off as he had was not okay, and he needed them to be okay.
She leaned back into him as she spoke with her assistant on the phone, and he laid his chin on her shoulder.
“Rina, can you scan those files and send them over on a secure server, please?” He felt her nod. “Yes, ask Shane or Cleo if you need to. I need to see them ASAP.”
Frida hung up and settled into his body with a small sigh.
“Everything all right?”
She nodded, but when she spoke, she sounded worried. “Rina found details of large payments to an MPD Union fund from the DA’s office.”
“Is that allowed?” Malco freely admitted that politics wasn’t his cup of tea. Frida tilted her head to him, and her lips turned down as she pulled free of his arms. “Yes and no. It isn’t illegal per se, but it isn’t exactly ethical either. What is interesting, though, is that Rina found links between a number of cops in the Union and questionable treatment of alleged gang member victims.” Malco moved to pour them both coffees, lifting the pot in question. “Yes, please. I have a feeling it may be a long night.”
He poured them both one
