Criminal Instinct (14 page)

God, he thought she was high. “Get your hands off me.” But her voice was weak.

Shoving damp hair out of her face, he gripped the sides of her head, forcing her to look at him. His concern was too painful to see.

Her eyes squeezed shut. “Get out, Jonas. I can’t…I can’t let you see me…like this.”

“Let me help you.”

She recoiled, bending at the waist. “Go. God,
please
.”

Abruptly, she spun on her feet, shoving at him with what little strength she had left. He stepped past the threshold, and she slammed the door in his face.

Jonas stared at the closed door and curled his fists as he heard Ana retch. Everything inside him told him to force his way in, to help her, somehow. Anything to stanch the helplessness he experienced at the sight of her pain. For the first time since his mother’s death, he felt powerless.

He stepped back. Ana needed his help, but if he wanted her trust he would have to follow her wishes. He could admire her stubbornness as much as hate it. He knew Ana couldn’t tolerate showing any weakness. He knew it because they both shared the same trait.

The last of her heaves gone, Ana slammed down the toilet lid and slid to the floor. The tiles cooled her head.

Her eyelids felt like weights, and her body ached. With her mouth dry and her throat parched and sore, swallowing was difficult.

Hadn’t been able to fight that one. She needed to sit up, but moving any part of her seemed like too much effort.

A knock at the door.

Not now.

The door swung open.

Ana glanced up and blinked as she pushed herself up to a sitting position against the tiled wall.

She had to be really out of it. That would explain why she was seeing a female version of Jonas standing before her. Same rich brown hair, same topaz eyes. High cheekbones and a full set of lips. Beautiful.

“Are you okay?” the female Jonas asked. She scrunched her nose when she smelled Ana’s vomit.

Ana didn’t answer and the woman looked concerned. She made a far from subtle scan of Ana’s attire and the jacket that Ana had heaped on the floor.

Ana couldn’t care less what she wore. She felt like she’d just taken a quick trip to hell and back. But she finally nodded, and the woman seemed to relax.

“I’m Jonas’s sister, Kara. I was just about to go home from the club when he summoned me.” She lifted a well-groomed eyebrow, then murmured, “Not that I expected
this
.” She went to the tub and turned knobs. “I’m to run you a bath. You can use the towels folded on the rack next to you.”

A bath
. No time. But it worked in her favor. “Great,” she managed.

Kara straightened and flipped her long, layered hair behind one shoulder, her spiked heels making her as tall as some Amazon queen. She looked down at Ana. “You don’t need help getting undressed, do you?”

“No.”

“Good. I’d hurry up. I don’t expect Jonas to give you much time. He’s on a rampage downstairs with the men. A little on edge.” She met Ana’s eyes. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Not a clue.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t nice. “You’re not exactly my brother’s type.”

Ana let out a weak laugh. “Don’t worry, he’s not exactly my type, either.” It wasn’t a lie, although by the smirk that formed on her painted lips, the woman clearly didn’t believe Ana. Whereas Kara had probably been referring to the color of Ana’s skin, likely not knowing or caring Ana was half white, Ana wasn’t talking about Jonas’s looks at all. She was talking about his money.

“You must be one of his personal crusades.”

Ana didn’t comment. It was a dig, and she’d left her own shovel at home, so to speak.

Kara turned off the water. “Not that he ever admits to being a Good Samaritan. He’ll deny his generosity till he’s blue in the face. Today he ordered a soup truck and blankets to be taken to some crack house. Just out of the blue. No explanation whatsoever.”

Ana looked at her, curious. “He did that?” Was she talking about the building they’d hid inside to escape the Suits?

His sister nodded with a sigh. “Sometimes I think God divided up all the good stuff to Jonas. Anyway, you’re just one of many people he tries to help. Don’t fall for him because he’s showing an interest in you. I’ve seen it happen before. The women always walk away with their hearts broken.”

This wasn’t a surprise. “I’ll remember that.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” She turned and left.

Ana straightened with slow movements, remembered to flush the toilet, and rose to lock the door. Her movements were sluggish. She leaned against the wall.

Was she a personal crusade? Just another person for Jonas to save? Made sense. His interest in her, his constant offers of help. There was irony in finding herself in another scenario similar to when she’d been a young girl, emotionally alone no matter where she lived. Kara was just like the rich kids who taunted her with things she could never have. Max, like Jonas, had been on his own quest to try to save Ana, attempting to mold her into a survivor. She rubbed at her stomach with trembling fingers. Too much to take in now.

She went to the sink and washed her face. A bottle of mouthwash was set on the counter. She sipped some and gargled.

After slipping on her coat, she went to the window. A foot-wide ledge led from here to the room where Paul lay, a couple of windows down.

Jay-man’s words echoed back to her.

Find a way out, Ana, or we’re coming in to get both of you. You have one hour. After that, if you’re not out, we call in SWAT
.

No way would Jonas let her leave. Too dangerous, he had said. Yeah, he was right, but it was dangerous for him as well. And he’d said he wouldn’t let her go until he found out who she worked for.

Jay-man likely had a team outside the club ready to beat down the door. All sorts of things could happen. She’d seen a few of the muscles who scouted Zero, and had noticed one or two with weapon bulges. Brooks and Jonas hired top-notch security.

What were they protecting themselves from? Drug traffickers? Law enforcement? Either way, she couldn’t deny the fact that if something happened to Jonas, it wouldn’t…sit well.

He could be behind this entire lethal shipment. Wasn’t that what two known dealers had told her? But her head wouldn’t accept the idea of Jonas’s guilt. The sources weren’t reliable. Especially Doms—he had leaked Jonas’s name yet hadn’t known the man when he was standing only a few steps away.

Also, Jonas had a sense of righteousness that didn’t fit with illegal drug trafficking. Brooks, she wasn’t so sure about. But she’d find out.

Her throat dry, she swallowed a few times to build up saliva and then hiked one boot onto the ledge.

The door handle wiggled.

The unexpected sound jolted her.

“Ana?”

Jonas
. “Uh, just finishing up.”

“Why is the door locked?”

“I-I need privacy.” She could hear his sigh through the door. Nervous sweat broke out of her pores.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Hopefully a while. She inched out onto the ledge, the cold sinking into her skin. Her boot slipped on the damp brick of the building. Her arms flared out and gripped the edges of the window, her heartbeat skittering. The fog hung like a wet blanket, soaking everything it touched.

Her back securely against the building, she looked down. A good drop, enough for her to go splat. Taking care, she spread her arms at her sides. Her hands rubbed against slippery brick as she sidestepped toward Paul’s window. She didn’t have a plan. All of it depended on timing. Paul’s window led to a fire escape—the only way out.

Reaching the room, she peered inside. Paul was alone. She widened the open window.

A rock nicked her leg. What the hell? She looked down and spotted a dark figure below.

She froze.

“It’s Jax.” His voice was a harsh whisper.

She closed her eyes in relief. Giving a thumbs up, she slipped inside.

Jonas had been downstairs checking on the status of Zero and getting updates from his men. Ray told him Lenny Parker, the second of his men, had been found dead an hour ago, again with burns, broken bones and a bullet to the back of the head, execution style. Leaving his wife a widow.

Jonas shoved down the guilt of not being able to protect his men. No longer any doubt, someone was gunning for him. At this point the questions were, who and why?

How did the killers find out who his men worked for? Were they actually after Ray? Because they couldn’t know Ray acted as a cover to protect Jonas’s family. His own men weren’t even aware of that. They thought Jonas’s orders passed from Ray.

Could these deaths be connected to the X shipment?

The questions just kept piling up without any answers.

Then there was Ana.

He’d ordered a light meal for her downstairs and checked on her friend…and co-worker. He’d still been knocked out. Just the thought of the kid, the motel, seeing Ana around that filth, made him want to pull her from that tub and demand answers. She’d be naked and warm…and wet.

He tucked away the tantalizing image. Couldn’t go there now. Not yet.

Demands weren’t the way to work with Ana. If you pushed, she pushed back harder. It was her defense. He always played his cards close to his vest. Ana was on his home turf. Any fool knew the house always wins.

A knock sounded at his bedroom door. He let in one of his cooks.

“Thanks, Alfonso.” Jonas grabbed the mug of hot coffee off the food tray. He had a feeling no one had ever waited on Ana like this before. Sometimes she acted so young, other times there were years of experience inside her green eyes. He walked through his room to the closed bathroom entrance.

“Ana, are you okay?” No answer. He tapped his knuckles against the door.
“Ana.”
The tapping turned into pounding. He tried the knob. Still locked.

He ran his hand over his head. Had she fallen asleep? He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes had passed since he last spoke to her. Was she trying to postpone his questions?

He ground his teeth. “Open the door, Ana, or I’m kicking it down.”

Again, no answer.

He stepped back, kicked the door. It flew open, bouncing off the wall.

He looked to the tub. Still water, and the window next to it was wide open.

No Ana.

Not again
.

He whirled. The mug smashed on the floor as he ran to the kid’s room, reaching it just before Ray entered. The bed was empty.

“Shit.”
Out the open window, he saw a guy loading the kid in a black van. Ana, huddled in her coat, was stepping in behind them.

“Ana!”

Her head snapped up. It was dark, but he could swear their eyes met.

The van door slid shut. A harsh final clank.

Then she was gone.

Jonas dug his fingers into the window ledge and lowered his head. Anger raged within him, fighting to claw out. He took a breath. Control—he had it.
He had it
. He wasn’t like his father, a man who gave into his weakness and died because of it.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there. Ray hadn’t said a word, but he stood as a steady force at his back. Waiting.

The rage nearly gone, tamed, Jonas looked out across the city. Street lights glinted. Tall buildings stood like stiff soldiers guarding over a city that hardly rested.

Sometimes that’s what he felt like. A soldier fighting a war that never stopped.

“Find out everything you can about her. Who she works for. Where she’s from. Everything there is to know about Ana Moreno, I want to know.”

“Anything useful?” Salvador Tyler rolled the inch-thick Cuban cigar to the other corner of his mouth.

“Another one of Raymond Brooks’s security has been killed.” The hushed voice spoke through his speakerphone. “The men are nervous. Worried that they may be next. There’s a Hispanic woman. Ana something. Saven has been showing an interest in her.”

Ana, is it?
“Where can I find her?”

“I don’t have that information.”

Tyler clenched the cigar between his teeth. “Get it.” He cleared his throat. “You’ll be rewarded. Call back when you have what I want.” He pressed the release button to disconnect the phone on his desk.

As he leaned back in his chair, the leather groaned under his girth. Ana. His spy was proving himself very useful. He’d finally put a name to the little street rat who’d witnessed that pathetic Dolini’s death. And Saven was interested in her? Too good.

Sal narrowed his eyes. That damn Saven must have somehow made a connection to Dolini through this Ana. Why else would he suddenly be interested in a woman not of his customary female tastes?

Dolini had been weak. Unacceptable.

But had he managed to take out Dolini before the ingrate opened his pathetic trap about the shipment?

Yes, yes. No one outside his realm knew about the shipment coming in. He’d taken too many precautions. Dolini’s death sent a warning to anyone working for him:
breathe the name Salvador Tyler and die.

Picking up one of the various miniature statues of nude forms sitting on his desk, he gripped the smooth marble in his hand. The figurine was one of his favorites, a carved image of a tortured man on his knees, begging for mercy. He did like pretty things.

He smiled. Everything was indeed going according to plan. He would receive the shipment of pills to sell throughout the Bay Area as Ecstasy. Kids and adults would take the drugs and some unfortunate souls would participate in a lethal game of Russian Roulette.

How many pills would kill them with an overdose of PMA? Nobody knew.

His eyebrows lifted and he very nearly chuckled. By then rumors would have circulated of Saven’s connection to the pills. He’d be investigated, and—with enough bribes and planted evidence—arrested and charged. After that, only one more thing would make Sal’s world perfect.

Jonas Saven’s death.

He let the chuckle creep up his throat as he replaced the statue precisely where it belonged. Rising from his chair, Sal gazed into the wall mirror beside his desk. He turned left and then right, checking for creases and smoothing the line of his cream-colored silk suit down his bulging stomach.

Sal’s informant didn’t have a clue that the entire Brooks operation was actually run by Saven. Or that Sal had waited three long years to put them all out of business for the embarrassment Saven and Brooks caused him. But the day was finally coming. Yes.

Not only would he pull off a major drug deal right under the noses of the law, but he would also take down a strong enemy soon after.

Even better, if this Ana woman turned out to be a vulnerable spot for Saven, he would exploit that to the maximum.

Someone knocked at the door. Flattening his eyebrows with his pinky, he gave himself a last cursory once over.

Handsome son of a bitch
.

“Enter,” he said.

Dominic Barley crossed the threshold, one eye swollen shut. The cheek below was darkened purple, his large upper lip busted. Sal’s men followed, flanking the doorway.

Sal removed the cigar from his mouth and sighed. “Dominic, Dominic. What have you done?”

Dominic clasped a handful of his sickening rat’s nest of dreadlocks and threw them over his right shoulder. “I need to go under, my friend, the cops will be looking for me.”

“Really. Why is that?”

“A woman and her muscle came to pick up their man we had taught a lesson for asking questions in my establishments. She wanted to talk business. But she was too cautious with her money man. I wouldn’t deal without the main man.”

Sal walked directly in front of Dominic, meeting his one good eye. He took a long pull of the cigar and blew the smoke in the dealer’s face. “What kind of business?”

Dominic swallowed with an effort. “Love Drug.”

“Tell me.”

When he did, Sal slammed his burning Cuban into Dominic’s good eye.

Sunday
2:30 a.m.

Sarge’s cold stare told Ana tonight was it. Her get-out-of-prison card had expired.

She stood in the front of the meet room. Jax, Digit, Romeo and Jay-man stayed off to the side as if giving her and Sarge some semblance of privacy.

Ana ran a hand through her limp hair, the strands damp from sweat and the misted fog from outside. She had already changed into a T-shirt, sweat pants and a pair of old Nikes she kept in a locker downstairs. But she felt cold to her very bones.

Sarge remained in front of his desk like a judge ready to pass a death sentence. Hands on his hips, he glared at her, digesting the information she’d just told him. The fact that she’d set up a likely connection to the Deadly X…and now it was gone.

“What about Toby Wiler,” he said precisely, with a bare movement of his lips. “What’s your excuse for him?”

She frowned. “Toby Wiler?”

He didn’t answer. But then again, the storm brewing in his eyes and the stiffening of his shoulders told her enough.

Blinking a couple of times, she realized her body was swaying after twenty hours on her feet. She’d been up that long before, but with her earlier bout of sickness, she felt drained.

She cleared her scratchy throat. “Don’t know any Toby Wiler.”

“I heard you, Switch. I’m just preparing myself for the load of bullshit you’re most likely going to shovel at me. Restraining myself so I don’t reach over and squeeze your little neck.” He said it so matter of fact, so quietly, she knew he spoke the truth.

“Toby Wiler!”
he bellowed out of nowhere, causing her to step back. “Over two hundred and eighty pounds. African American. Found on scene where police were called to investigate a loud disturbance, possibly gunshots, fired at the Vista Hotel. Various drugs and paraphernalia found on premises. Room appeared abandoned at first, until they walked toward the restroom.

“There, Toby Wiler lay nearly unconscious. Swimming in his blood. He was immediately taken to the hospital where… he paused, leaning in close to her face before he continued in that same robust, rage-filled tone, “…doctors found his nose broken and half his face fractured!”

Her mouth opened. “Sarge—”

“Don’t say it!” he plowed over her. “I don’t want to hear your half-assed excuses. You set up a precious-as-gold deal and threw it out the fucking window. I just don’t know why. I can’t see it. And not just the fact that the man was twice your weight and how the hell you ended up doing that much damage to his face, but
why
—why would you do this to the team?”

She didn’t say anything. She’d been smacked with a hard ball of shock.
She
had caused that much damage to Wiler? God, what kind of person did that make her?

“You just said Barley was going to let you walk out of there with Skates. Isn’t that what you said?”

She blinked, focusing on his question. “You heard me.”

“But that’s not all you screwed up, is it? You brought Saven with you to the deal and blew your cover. Risked Skates’s life because you didn’t take the time to call for backup. Left your fingerprints at the scene.”

Most of what he said was true, but… “I tried to save Skates
and
find out about the deal. I did confirm the shipment is coming in by boat sometime before Friday. We didn’t have that information before. And the fact the dealer named Saven as his backer, but didn’t recognize Saven in the motel. Sarge, someone’s pointing us in the wrong direction—”

“I’m going with the facts, Switch. You blew it. You risked lives and broke protocol.
Son of a bitch!
We could’ve given the exact time and date of the X load over to DEA—the whole deal wrapped up with a red-fucking-bow. Could’ve nailed the scum ready to distribute that load of garbage to every household in the city. Saved your asses from the can. Tell me,” his arms went wide to encompass the participants of the room. “Tell us all why you screwed us over!”

“All right,” she screamed back into his face. “Don’t you think I know I screwed up? I fucking know!”

Rubbing her hands into her face, she lowered her head. “I know,” she whispered.

An ache burned inside her. It burned so bad she couldn’t fight it or control it. Couldn’t utter the words that when she’d seen the brutality of Skates’s injuries, a switch had been flicked inside of her.

A switch of pure fury.

Before she’d known what happened, her hands had grabbed the closest potential weapon and she’d swung up and out like a Babe Ruth impersonator and took out her closest threat. Blood had squirted from Wiler’s face and just to get the sight away from her, she’d hit him again.

Damn it, she should have ditched Jonas and called for backup. She wouldn’t have had to risk her cover. Wouldn’t have had to feel his anger like a punch to the stomach as she stepped into the van.

Yeah, she’d blown the deal. For everyone.

She hadn’t wanted to face another ten years without her freedom, chained to the system, being told what to do and when. Oddly enough, that same rebellious spirit was what had led her into her life of crime to begin with. But tonight, she could honestly say she’d been trying to do her job by solving the mission. Following orders. She had also been trying to keep her teammate from getting killed; that’s where she’d screwed herself.

Now she would pay for her actions. Just like she’d been paying for that night six months ago that got her into SIDE. Just like she’d paid for telling off Max when he wouldn’t adopt her. Max had gazed at her tear-stained face and given her his final words of advice.

There’s going to be times when all seems lost, Ana. Right now, this is nothin’. Maybe one time it will be. But whatever you do, don’t go down like the wounded to their deathbed. Stand like you are now, like a fighter
.

Swallowing past the tightening around her throat, she stared at Sarge’s flushed face and took the advice of a man who’d been the closest thing to a father figure she’d ever known.

“You know what?” She spoke in a low voice, her face set in disgust. “Fuck it.” Seeing Sarge’s eyes widen, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. “You and the stiff-necked government assholes sit behind your safe little desks with your god complexes. Thinking you can lead us wherever you please without repercussions. Unless the team brings in the bad guys, we’re not even people to you. No explanation I give for what happened tonight will matter a damn.”

She shook her head as the truth of her words spread the pain from her gut to her throat. “It doesn’t matter what happens to any of us. That we’re shot at, nearly killed, that we risk our lives every day. Paul’s in a hospital bed and nobody’s going to blink an eye.”

She lifted her chin, and raised her voice because she feared it would break. “I know I fucked up. For everyone.” She spared a glance at the team. They stared at her with empty expressions. They blamed her for Paul too. Yeah, the half-breed outsider messed up again. “I don’t need
you
or anybody else throwing it in my face. You want to send me to prison? There’s nothing I can do to change your mind.” There had never been anything she could control.
“Just do it, and leave me the hell alone!”

Sarge’s face wavered. She blinked until she could see him more clearly.

Her arms shook at her sides, and her stomach cramped. But her body was braced for the backlash of Sarge’s explosion. She was ready for whatever he sentenced her to.

Only, for some reason, his face was a blank slate. No anger or accusation creased the harsh lines of his expression. He just turned away. She almost told him not to, to face her like a man, but she didn’t have the energy to argue anymore.

A large hand came down on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Jay-man.

His eyes, windows to his soul, carried sympathy and a pain she didn’t understand. Then his other hand reached up with a tissue and wiped her face.

Her fingers swiped at her cheek and she stared at her damp fingers in something akin to horror. Tears of vulnerability,
in front of everyone
. She was Ana Moreno, codename Switch, tough-as-nails street narc. But here she stood shattering the image she’d built and letting the truth seep through the cracks.

Clenching her hand into a fist, she did the only thing she could.

She ran.