Criminal Instinct (19 page)

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Authors: Kelly Lynn Parra

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Suspense

BOOK: Criminal Instinct
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“We have confirmation that the shipment is coming in this week by boat. But that’s it. We’re thinking cargo ship. DEA’s researching the itinerary on arrivals of large vessels. And believe me, that doesn’t narrow it down. We need to bust our asses and find out what’s what. With Skates out, we’re short handed.

“Now, what we
don’t
know. Where Tyler has himself stashed. What day the deadly shipment is coming into the Bay or who’s behind it. These are priority questions. You all got that?”

One by one, the team nodded.

A ringing sounded and everyone checked their cells.

“It’s me,” Jax said. “Garcia.” Rising, he left the room.

Miles looked over at the two remaining team members. Romeo and Digit sat across the room from each other like two sulky children. Since he had them working together the past two days they’d been going back and forth with snide remarks. Digit usually cut Romeo low and Romeo sweet talked her.

But now, nothing. Not even a glance at each other.

Miles scowled. If something had happened between these two that shouldn’t have…

“What’s with you guys?” he demanded.

Digit widened her eyes and shook her head.

Romeo straightened in his seat. “What do you mean, Sarge?”

Miles stared at them. They both looked like they’d committed a damn felony. He scowled. He didn’t want to know if anything happened between then, because if it had, he’d have to kick some serious ass.

Jax came back, his face excited. “Looks like you can’t discount Garcia.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That was Rico on the line. He said he’d have the hundred grand worth of Ecstasy this weekend and more if I could afford it.”

“What the hell?”

“That’s all he’d let on. So it looks like we still have three main players. Now what’s the plan, Sarge?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I should have known Tyler was after you. Meyer said there was bad business between the three of you, but it hadn’t clicked. What happened between Brooks, Tyler and you?”

Jonas bit back a curse and stalked toward Ana. He grabbed her bare arms, refraining from shaking her. “So you can run and tell your boss about my life? My personal business?”

She went stiff under his hands. “Hands off, Jonas.”

“Still digging for more details, is that it?”

He could have sworn he saw hurt in her eyes. “You know my job,” she spoke quietly. “I’m only interested in the shipment.”

“Not my life?” he shot out.

Anger flickered across her soft features. “Like I need to know anymore about your poor, cushy lifestyle after the life I’ve been living.”

“Fuck that. You want the cold truth? You want to know that Tyler turned my father into a desperate junkie?”

She shook her head in confusion.

“How ’bout the night my father came home so out of his mind he nearly beat my mother to death? I couldn’t do a thing about it, because he hammered at me till I was broken and threw me out in the street. I could hear Kara’s screams for help and I could do nothing. Fucking
nothing!

She struggled under his hands and he tightened his grip, leaning in so close to her face their noses brushed.

“When the cops finally came, my mother was barely breathing. And my father—my father was found in his bedroom, dead, with a filthy needle stuck in his arm!”

Something like fear flashed in Ana’s eyes and he released her abruptly, disgusted with himself for his loss of control. She rubbed at the reddened spots he’d left on her skin. He turned, walked back to the window. Fury vibrated inside his body. Gritting his teeth, he shut his eyes, hitting his forehead against the cool glass.

What the hell was he doing? Yeah, he was pissed at Ana. For deceiving him, and for making him lose control with wanting her, but the things she’d done hadn’t caused the pain he lived with every day. Wasn’t what drove him to put away every filthy drug trafficker he came across. But here he’d used her as a scapegoat for his anger. He never wanted a woman to fear him the way his mother had feared his father. And after the brutal assault Ana had endured, he should know better than to lay hands on her. He’d read the report, saw the damage she’d suffered from the bastard who attacked her.

Jonas felt a tentative touch on his bare back. He stiffened, shoving down his first instinct to whirl away from her. He didn’t want to scare her anymore then he already had.

“Don’t touch me,” he said. Her touch disappeared the instant he said, “Don’t.”

After a long moment of silence, he said, “Now you know why I do it. Why I do what I can to stop drug dealers.”

“Yes.”

“Wondering why I just didn’t become a cop?”

“Not a chance.”

That made him turn. Her skin looked a little pale, but the fear was gone. Something in his chest loosened. “Why not?”

“You work one way, Jonas. Your way. Your reasons are too personal to follow the rules.”

He didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect her to understand. How could she when he barely did? But it didn’t change a thing. They both had their own agendas. Ana’s was to follow her orders, and his was to see Salvador Tyler behind bars.

He searched her face, stepped closer. “Why did you break the rules? What were your reasons for becoming a thief?”

She glanced away. “I needed an easy out, why else?”

“I don’t believe that. You’d been in the system since you were five. Flipping off the law at twelve. Why, then?”

“Look, if I wanted to tell my life story, I’d write a book.” She rubbed her bare arms as if she was cold.

Was she cold? Or had he handled her too roughly?

His jaw flexed. “I apologize for the second time tonight. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I could have hurt you back if I needed to.” She tossed her hair out of her face. “Let’s get something straight. Contrary to what you might think, I’m not here to spy on you and report whatever you say back to my boss. Yeah, I have a job to do. To find out when and where that boat is coming in, and to stop it. I know you’re not behind it, and I’ll say it once—I’m sorry for deceiving you. But I’m not sorry for doing what I had to, to stay out of a prison cell.”

“You were looking out for yourself. You still are. I already know that.”

She lifted her chin. “Damn right I’m looking out for myself. You don’t know what it’s like having your life controlled every day. Having to do things you don’t want to do.”

“You got me there. I’ve been making my own choices since I was a kid.” He thought about having his every decision placed inside someone else’s hands. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it. And for someone like Ana, a headstrong young woman who was raised with no family, no love, never knowing the comfort of what was going to happen tomorrow, he could almost understand how she would do anything not to be thrown into that confined hell again, to even resort to letting them insert that object into her body. Almost.

She shrugged, but the nonchalant gesture seemed forced. “I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t going to narc on your personal business. So if you needed to…I don’t know, talk about it, you could, without worrying I would turn around and tell somebody.”

“You mean talk like you’re so willing to?” He rubbed the back of his neck, concentrating on relaxing the tension balled there. “I don’t want to talk about my past.”

“All right, then there’s no reason for me to stay.” She turned away.

Uncertainty drummed in the center of his chest. “Ana.”

She stopped in mid reach for her coat.

“You really want to know how I got where I am today? What the hell.” After tonight, they might never see each other again. Why rush it?

Why prolong it?

Hell if he knew.

He motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. I had some food brought up.” He walked to a pushcart he had stashed by the bar. He’d ordered a small assortment of food that he thought might make Ana feel comfortable. Tortillas, black beans, Spanish rice, guacamole and salsa. Part of setting the stage. No reason to let good food go to waste.

He moved a couple of covered platters to the coffee table in front of Ana. She brushed back her hair and shifted on the couch, straightening the hem of her dress.

Why so nervous? He was the one about to spill his guts. No, not spill his guts. Just explain a few things. He sat next to her as she scooted forward. Her little tongue flicked across her lips before she nibbled on her bottom lip.

Absently, he removed the covers and set them on the side table.

Four years
. Damn, that was one hell of a long time not to have sex. Her lack of intimacy hadn’t turned him off. It made her all the more desirable, especially knowing he was the one she’d let get close to her, maybe not to sleep with, but to hold, to taste that soft mouth. His eyes moved down her smooth neck, down into the V of her dress to the firm breasts he’d sucked on.

He went hard and cursed. How pathetic was it to desire the one woman he couldn’t have? A desire he didn’t want to have, since she’d befriended him for her damn job.

He closed his eyes. Baseball. Think baseball. First base, second base…

No
. He opened his eyes.

Golf.

He was so occupied with his desire, it took him a moment to realize she hadn’t touched the food. In fact, her back was rigid. “Something wrong?”

She hooked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “What made you order this?”

“What do you mean? I thought you’d like—”

“Because I’m Mexican, right?” Her lips curved mockingly. “A cheeseburger would have sufficed.”

He shut his mouth. It was the truth, but his intention had been to make her comfortable, not stereotype her in any way. “Ana, I apologize. You don’t have to eat any of it.”

“Thanks, but I’m just not very hungry.”

“Not a problem.” He re-covered the platters, feeling like a certifiable ass.

Her eyes shifted to him for a second. “Maybe you should put a shirt on.”

Maybe she was right.

 

Ana expelled a tired breath when Jonas left the room, fatigue weighing into her body by slow degrees…the effect of guilt for having snapped at Jonas for something he didn’t understand. Something she herself didn’t yet understand. She eyed her coat and purse, then the door.

Leave.

She had what she wanted: confirmation that Jonas wasn’t behind the X deal, and his reason for tracking Dolini. She also understood now that Tyler had a personal vendetta against Jonas that was whole-heartedly returned. She had to get back to the firehouse, find out what was going down. Sarge wanted her to keep her cover with Jonas, but he still thought Brooks and Jonas were involved. She was wasting time here.

Still, she remained rooted to the big, plush couch, waiting on the one man she could never have—not with a five-year sentence as her future. He already meant more to her than she thought was possible. One night with him and she wouldn’t survive the five years without him.

Jonas entered the room wearing a light gray sweater that was loose, yet outlined the strength in his chest and arms. His feet were now clad in black leather tennis shoes. Twin tugs of pleasure and disappointment vied for dominance. She was glad he was covered up, but did he still have to look so good?

“Would you like more to drink?” he asked, his expression layered with mild interest.

“No thanks.”

Maybe he wanted to put off telling her about his past. Very un-Jonas-like. But it was his choice, she wasn’t holding a gun to his head. She’d been ready to walk out the door.

He couldn’t be telling her so she’d stay. That didn’t make sense. Jonas was a private guy. He wouldn’t let down a personal guard just to keep her around a little longer.

Obviously, Jonas didn’t want her comfort, either. Not that she knew how to give it, but she’d tried after he’d hit her with the truth about his dad. Then he’d shot her down.

Don’t touch me
.

But what did she expect after a confession like that? Here she thought Jonas was this preppy rich guy, raised with a silver spoon stuck in his mouth, and she’d been so wrong. She’d been wrong about a lot of things where Jonas was concerned.

She made herself meet his eyes. “There’s one more thing I want to apologize for.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“I’m sorry for treating you like a jerk because of your money. I assumed stuff about your life. That was wrong. How old were you when your dad…”

He tucked his hands in his pants pockets. “Kara and I were sixteen.”

“Your mom—”

“My mother never regained her health…she passed away a year later.” His chest rose with a silent sigh. “Watching her slowly weaken, it changed me. Gave me a new purpose.”

“Revenge against Tyler.”

He inclined his head. “I knew I couldn’t just face off with a drug lord with a reputation like his. There was Kara. I would never leave her on her own. But I still…needed…to do something.”

“And that’s how it began.”

“I started with anonymous calls to the police station. Told them about the dealers I knew about. We lived in a bad neighborhood. They weren’t hard to find. I worked two jobs, one in a warehouse, another as an errand boy for a financial firm.”

Her lips curved. “So that’s where you learned how to handle money.”

“I was young, eager to learn. They taught me about investments, strong investments that have helped me to fund my operations. Apparently I have a head for business just like my father had. Before he lost his job he was an industry guru. He used to say, everything he touched turned to gold.” He smirked. “That was before one bad deal made him lose everything. His job, his reputation.”

“How did Brooks come into the picture?”

Jonas narrowed his eyes.

“Only curious for myself, Jonas. I swear.”

“I’m probably going to regret this, but I believe you.” He sighed. “After one of my early morning shifts at the warehouse, I saw him taking on about five gang members. He was holding his own, until they brought out the bats.”

“You jumped in?”

“I couldn’t chance it. I didn’t know him. But I knew the gang. Before it was too late, I cut a deal with them. Dropped him at the hospital.”

Jonas went beyond being a Good Samaritan, he helped people for nothing in return. Just like when he sent food and blankets to the homeless in that abandoned building. Just like when he saved her from the jerks at the arcade. Jonas was everything opposite of what Max had stood for.

Jonas lifted a shoulder. “I went back to see how he was doing, we became friends. He helped me build what I have today.”

Something told Ana there was more to it, but that was all she would get out of him. His posture was rigid. Delving into the past sucked, she knew.

“What happened between you and Tyler three years ago?”

“You must know Tyler was nearly put in prison about that time.”

She nodded. “Heroin trafficking. But he got off.”

His jaw went taut. “I helped get him there and law enforcement couldn’t keep him in a cage. I had gone to Tyler with a potential partnership, only I pulled out at the last minute and turned him in along with the heroin traffickers. My cover was never blown. When he walked, I realized he had officials in his pocket as well as a judge.” He fell silent for a few moments. “He’s not going to get away with it this time.” An intense determination laced his words.

A cell phone rang, and Ana flinched. Jonas walked over to a side table, picked up his phone and flipped open the cover. “Saven.”

His eyes went hard. “How bad?” He paused. “Call an ambulance. I’m on my way.” He shut the phone, grabbed his worn wallet. “I have to go.”

She stood. “What’s going on? What happened?”

He glanced at her as he grabbed his coat. “My missing man showed up at Zero, he’s hurt…bad.”

Ana grabbed her jacket and her purse, slipping them on. “I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“Jonas, you can’t keep me away.”

“I don’t have time for this. If you’re coming, fine, but there’s one condition.”

She was getting tired of all his rules. “What now?”

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