Criminal Instinct (18 page)

She fell to her knees, hands landing on the sticky floor. Her face went numb. She wasn’t entirely sure her jaw was still attached, and reached up a hand to check. Her eyes watered as the pain became known. She worked her jaw, felt more pain, and then gingerly climbed to her feet.

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the Suits were still occupied. With a quick stop to pick up her coat, she was out the door.

She ran down the street at high speed, taking brief glimpses behind her. The cool air rushed against her. The sound of a strong motor thundered closer. Not just any motor—a beefed up twin-block engine.

Jax rumbled along on his distinctive cherry red chopper, but he wasn’t alone. He had one of his many women riding the tail.

“Jax!” Ana jumped up, waved her arms, trying to get his attention. Damn, he wasn’t going to hear her over that engine. Luckily, he stopped at a red light. She rushed over, weaving between vehicles.

A block behind her, the Suits had run out of the bar and were scanning for her. She didn’t have much time.

Jax wore an open-face helmet, allowing Ana to view his narrowed eyes.

“What the hell?” he blurted.

“Billy, what’s going on?” Girlfriend looked to be the dark side of her thirties and was plastered with make-up.

Ana stepped as close to the heated chopper as she was able without getting her bare legs singed, the motor shaking the ground beneath her feet. She didn’t think twice, merely grabbed the sides of Jax’s helmet. His eyes widened right before she pressed her lips to his, shoving her tongue into his mouth.

Her jaw flashed a quick ache, but a hint of warmth still pulsed through her.

Girlfriend screeched and hauled herself off the bike.

Ana pulled away, looking into Jax’s astonished blue eyes. Right then, she knew for a fact, she felt absolutely nothing for him. His kiss was definitely nice, but did nothing compared to what Jonas’s could do to her.

Jax just grinned. Girlfriend had thrown her own helmet down, revealing a bright red hair-sprayed mess.

By then the light had turned green and disgruntled car horns blared behind them. Girlfriend began cussing and slapping Jax’s helmet. Ana grabbed the helmet from the ground and fastened it on, ignoring the strong perfume that lingered from it.

Unfortunately, the little scene caught the eye of the Suits. One ran down the street in her direction, the other toward their parked SUV.

“Jax,” Ana said, interrupting his squabble with his woman and climbing behind him. “We have to roll. Killer Suits are gaining on us.”

With a curse, Jax looked over his shoulder, and took off down the road, leaving Girlfriend steaming.

Ana fastened her hands around his waist. It felt like they went from zero to sixty in two seconds flat.

Cold wind buffeted every inch of her body, the bike a grumbling beast beneath her. They swerved between cars and blasted through a yellow light. Cars behind them stopped at the red light, blocking the Suits’ SUV behind them. Jax cut through one side street and then another, making sure they lost them.

Minutes later, they pulled into the alleyway next to the firehouse. Jax parked his chopper where it couldn’t be seen from the street. He tore off his helmet, hauled Ana off the bike, and helped her with her own helmet. He hung both protectors on the handlebars.

“Thanks,” she told him with a small smile.

“What the hell is going on? Who were those guys?”

She told him.

He made a sound of disgust. “How come you’re out alone?”

“Sarge isn’t willing to put anyone else at risk right now. We’re trying to solve a major drug deal here, Jax. Get with the program.”

“I don’t care what Sarge says, you shouldn’t be without a partner.”

Ana cocked her head to the side. “Are you saying you’re willing to be my partner?”

“If I have to. When I’m not working on Garcia.”

She smiled. He was a jerk, but he had his moments. “You’re working the Garcia angle twenty-four-seven, just like I’m working the Brooks and Jonas angle.”

He stared at her, scratching the stubble on his chin. “So it’s Jonas now. How close are you working that angle?”

She thought of the role she would play tonight with the man in question. “Close enough.”

He leaned down close, his nose a hair’s breadth away from hers. “Don’t get personally involved with Saven. You could screw up and get yourself hurt.”

Ana crossed her arms. Just like Romeo’s advice had been too little too late about pushing Boner’s death aside, so was Jax’s warning. No matter how much she tried to deny her feelings, she was personally involved. She already cared what happened to Jonas. She already feared he meant more to her than she was ready to handle.

They stared at each other defiantly, neither one blinking a lash.

Finally Jax blinked, rubbing his fingers into his eyes.

“You lose.” She grinned up at him.

“It wasn’t a contest,” he said, bothered and trying to hide it.

“Sure, whatever you say, tough guy.”

He scanned her face. “What’s the story, Ana?”

Her smile fell away at his serious tone. He’d never called her Ana before.

“Are you still on the team?”

She hooked her hair behind her ear. “For the time being. I’m up for review as soon as this op is done.”

He looked down at his bike, as if maybe he didn’t want to talk about the possibility of prison at all. Jax had spent part of his sentence in a penitentiary.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s probably clear to take you home. The Suits likely have given up by now.” He shook his head. “I have to see if I can salvage my date.”

“Are you kidding? Your ass is dumped.”

He grinned. “That’s what you think,
chiquita
.”

Ana shifted her stance. “Can I ask you something?”

“Only if it’s to ask me into your bed.”

“I’m serious… I was wondering how you know Spanish so well.”

“You think I shouldn’t because I’m light skinned?”

She frowned. That had been her reasoning, and now with her own experience being thrown back at her, she felt like a bigot. “Just forget it.”

“My
abuelita
taught me.”

Ana blinked. His grandmother. “That would make you—”

“I’m Latino. A quarter.”

“And you still call yourself Latino?”

“Don’t you?”

She couldn’t answer. She hadn’t believed herself to be a real Latino. Half-breed, mixed mutt, she’d gladly admit to, but now…seeing blond, blue-eyed Jax be proud of his Latino background, shouldn’t she be more certain of her own heritage?

He suddenly smiled. “Does knowing this make you want to give me another kiss?”

Through her uncertainty, her lips curved. “Don’t even go there.”

“Now that I’ve had a taste, I’m eager to win our bet.”

Ana didn’t comment. One hot-blooded man at a time.

“Yes!”

Miles looked up from reading files to Digit, who was sitting at a computer. Her long hair was braided and knotted on top of her head. Small glasses perched on her nose, and her jaw worked on a stick of gum—her usual ritual when in “techie mode” as she called it.

Digit and Romeo had been working on breaking Sam Pike’s real identity. They already had a few tentative Internet business connections with Pike and Salvador Tyler, but Miles’s instinct told him they were the same man. If they could find a lead on Pike or connect him to anything illegal, there just might be a lead to Tyler’s whereabouts. Or more importantly, proof to put the drug-dealing low-life behind bars where he belonged.

“Did you find something?” Miles asked as he walked over.

Digit smiled. “Did I ever,” she answered with a stunning smile. “It’d been driving me crazy for the past few days trying to find
some
kind of connection among all these perverted porn sites. All of them have different e-mail addresses, and different post office boxes throughout the U.S. under various aliases. Yet the films are all produced by Powerhouse and the owner supposedly Sam Pike.”

Miles crossed his arms. “Get to it, Digit.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “Finally, I thought to search the business archives or public records from each city where the sites are registered. I kept scanning through form after form looking for something significant and I finally found a set of numbers that showed up repeatedly. It was longer than a Social Security number—I wasn’t sure what the heck it was. Until I thought it possibly could be a Social and something else like a date of birth.

“So I started trying the different sequences and came up with two logical numbers. Of course, they didn’t match our popular Salvador Tyler.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, striving for patience. “Okay. What did they match?”

“Salvador Tyler’s mother.”

He ran a thumb and a forefinger down his mustache.

“Yep,” she continued on. “I couldn’t get over the possibility that this sick bastard probably killed his own mother. After watching some of his disgusting films, I started to believe it. So I looked up her personal info and, sure enough, the numbers match. The IRS has obviously let these internet businesses get past them. Seeing as the woman is dead.”

“And it’s about damn time someone let them know in order to take care of this problem immediately. Good job. Now make copies of all the connecting businesses and do a wide search with the same number, see if you can catch any other businesses that shouldn’t be running.”

He turned to Romeo. “I know you’re not as quick on the keyboard, but I need you to help go through the system and do a scan on bank accounts. Tyler could have an account nearby, or hell, try deed transfers. Anything to find out where this low-life is hiding. Wishful thinking, but you never know. I’m on the phone. I need the info yesterday, understand? After I make some calls, I’m bringing everyone in for an emergency meeting.”

His mouth curved.
We’re on your ass, Tyler
.

Sal Tyler liked to think of himself as a rational man.

A fair man.

A competitive man.

A man who always wins.

But as he stared at the two incompetents before him, he found it hard to hold on to those ideals. The fouler side of his character threatened to take over, like a festering bogeyman hiding in the dark closet waiting, wanting, to spring out. His hand fisted and his eyes squeezed tight as he struggled to keep the fury down. If rage escaped, he would be unable to stop it. Unable to control his actions.

From the widened eyes and the sweat on the foreheads of the two men standing before him, they knew it too. They’d witnessed his wicked side many times before.

He turned his back, taking the reins and pulling hard with all his inner strength. A light coat of perspiration sprouted above his lip and brow. As time wore on it became more and more difficult to control his dark side. Not that he’d ever admit it.

Never admit a weakness, his father had always said as he punched him with his ham-sized fist. Never fail. It wasn’t an option.

He would not fail in his revenge against Jonas Saven.

“Now.” He turned, blowing out a shaky breath. “What happened to your faces and why—
why
don’t you have that little street rat, Ana?”

Tom stepped forward, nursing a bloody lip and cut eye. “Mr. Tyler, we went straight to the Ink Dome and grabbed her after Meyer contacted us. But, uh, she started a riot in the middle of the crowd, sir. She yelled that we were gay haters and they mobbed us. We barely got away. Harry here, has a sprained wrist. We both might have a couple of bruised ribs. She ran. By the time we finally broke away, she got on a motorcycle and disappeared.”

Harry stepped forward with his smashed nose. “We’ll get her, Mr. Tyler.”

“Yes,” Sal said. “You will, indeed. Because if you don’t, I’ll have to find replacements and you know what happens when I do that.” He smiled when they flinched, enjoying the fact that they feared him. He could thrive on fear alone, he really could. “Find her again, but this time let her lead you to her home. I want that little street rat, boys.” His teeth pressed firmly together. “I want her…very badly.”

Sunday
11:04 p.m.

Jonas answered his hotel room door shirtless.

Dark, physically fit and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

Every nerve ending in Ana’s body sprang to attention and screamed, “Run for your life!” Not only were his pectoral muscles revealed to her in all their bronzed glory, but his hair was unbound. The thick rich mass the color of mahogany brushed just past his shoulders. She hadn’t seen it down before, and now she knew why he didn’t walk around with his hair flowing free. He’d have all the women who flocked around him hypnotized. She finally got past the hair, eyes traveling down…nice defined stomach…light tan corduroys fitting
very
low on his hips. Was he even wearing underwear?

Just for the pleasure of it, she slowly pursued her visual journey back to his face. His expression looked neutral in the dimly lit entryway. Soft music drifted from behind him. She took a slow steady breath.

One thing was for certain: the man knew how to play dirty.

“You’re late.”

“I know,” was all her current limited vocabulary could manage.

He widened the door. She stood at the threshold, wondering if she could pull this off.

What if he didn’t stop the charade? Would she keep up the pretense and actually sleep with him? His kiss had knocked the sense right out of her before. Kiss? Just being near him had her panting for more.

This was a bad idea. She cupped her left hand into her right and cracked a knuckle.

Jonas smirked.

She dropped her hands, and stepped inside the room.

Of course, since it was an extravagant suite, she hit the lounge area first. No bed to face yet. But with a man who enticed such sexual tension, who needed a bed?

She could hear his soft tread behind her. She turned and looked down at his feet. He was barefoot.

Those long, tan feet made their way closer, until they stopped at her heeled boots. Toe-to-toe. His cologne tingled her senses. Subtle and musky, it made her think of hot nights and bare skin. He pressed a finger under her chin, bringing her gaze to his. His eyes were fierce, and she blinked.

“What the hell happened to your face?”

Her hand went to her tender jaw. “It was an accident.”

After being disgusted with herself for getting in the line of fire, she’d gone home to notify Sarge of the incident and clean up. Looking in the mirror, she’d discovered a bruise the size of an egg had bloomed on her skin. She’d iced the swelling, but it still turned a nice purple.

“It looks like someone clocked you.” His fingers tilted her head, eyes narrowing as he inspected it. He brushed two fingers lightly across the sensitive area.

“That’s exactly what happened.” His concern made her pulse speed up. She pulled away, taking a step back. “I was getting away from the Suits. I got too close to the fight that broke out.”

“They found you? Tell me what happened.”

She crossed her arms, leaned her body weight on her right foot. “If I remember correctly,
you’re
the one who should be providing the information.”

“Other than this, did they hurt you?”

His concern made her heart cartwheel in her chest. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His jaw flexed, but he merely walked to her and slid her jacket from her shoulders, tossing it on the couch. He repeated the same with the tiny purse that hung from her shoulder.

His eyes traveled down her body and up again. “You look very nice,” he murmured.

She’d taken a shower, dabbed on her habitual strawberry-scented lotion, and applied lip gloss and mascara. She’d even gone all out and blow-dried her hair so that it was thick and shiny. Normally she was too rushed, but it was amazing how she could find time for nonessentials when she was stalling.

A sleeveless cotton black dress with a V neck fit snug against her body. It rose two inches above her knees, but the material stretched and was comfortable. Her calf-high dress boots with the two-inch square heel topped off her dressy look. It hadn’t seemed appropriate to wear her usual pants and a T-shirt for the role she would play with Jonas.

Role? More like game. The Who’s-Gonna-Call-The-Bluff game.

“Thanks,” she said. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

A serious understatement. A light coating of dark hair curled across his upper chest. A happy trail of hair began just under his belly button, traveling straight into his pants. She swallowed with difficulty. No, he couldn’t be wearing underwear. One less layer between the harsh reality of her life and sexual temptation.

A muscle moved under his zipper.

She jerked her eyes to his, mentally cursing the heat filling her cheeks.

He stepped closer, his warm hand sliding onto the side of her neck, while the other combed through her hair. It was getting pretty hard to breathe.

“Is it…hot…in here?” she whispered.

“Very.” He lowered to her, hair falling forward on the right side of his face. She could smell his shampoo. Like his cologne, it was faint and masculine.

Eyes still open, he brushed her lips with his. She shut her gaze as he caressed her mouth again, this time a little stronger. Pleasure took a slow stroll through her center, sensitizing her breasts.

His arm wrapped around her, pulling her against his heated body, raising her to her toes as their tongues touched tentatively.
Oh, God
. Her arms slid up over his solid shoulders. He was smooth, firm. So good.

She whimpered and kissed him harder.

A low growl came through his mouth into hers and suddenly she was lifted, legs wrapped around him, as she felt herself spun and pressed to the wall.

His groin pushed between her legs. He was thick against her underwear, rubbing. A tingle came to life between her legs, and her head fell back.

She couldn’t get enough air, enough of him. Her hands roamed his back, his neck, his shoulders. The feel of him beneath her hands…she wanted more.

He nipped at her lip, then her chin, careful around her bruised jaw. His wet tongue glided down her neck into the V of her dress. “Jonas.” She arched her back with a heavy gasp.

“Oh
yeah
,” he said.

And just those words, so full of male satisfaction, made that tingle between her legs pulse into an ache. She felt his thick hands run up the underside of her thighs, her dress was bunched around her waist, his fingers gliding inside the cotton of her bikini underwear.

The intimate touch where no one had been in so long jerked open her eyes. She fought to break through a wave of lust.

Oh God, it was difficult. Jonas’s face was buried in her cleavage. Even though she wasn’t blessed in the breast department, his tongue still managed to get pretty creative with what Mother Nature had given her.

“Jonas,” she whispered again. She grabbed a handful of his mass of hair and pulled.

His eyelids were heavy over his tawny gaze. The desire there sent her pulse skittering.

He kissed her top lip, then her bottom. “What?”

“We have…to stop.” She swallowed, staring at his glistening mouth. “I didn’t come here for this. I didn’t think you had either.” Regardless of what they both had said, she wanted to believe Jonas didn’t think so little of her that he’d believe she’d use her body for information.

Abruptly, he lowered his forehead to her shoulder, his own shoulders rising with a strong sigh. “Damn,” he said softly. They stood with him pressed intimately between her legs, long fingers still cupping her ass.

She squirmed.

He finally said, “You’re right. This…isn’t what I meant to happen.” Gently, he removed his hands and set her on her feet.

She quickly pulled her dress down back over her thighs. With her head averted, she used her hair as a much needed veil.

“Ana,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it so far. Hell, that sounds pitiful.” His hand brushed her hair away from her face. “It started off I wanted to call your bluff, but if you hadn’t stopped—” He muttered a curse. “I’ve wanted to take you to bed, but deal or not, I would never force a woman to sleep with me.”

“Not likely you ever had to.”

“Look at me, Ana,” he demanded, then added more softly, “please.”

“Don’t worry about this.” She motioned with her hand awkwardly between them. “It was as much my fault as yours.” She drew a reluctant breath and raised her head, then expelled a gasp at the look on his face. Sincerity. Even a little shame. The first glimpse of his emotions he’d allowed her to see.

“You know, I used to think I had a way with women. But, I realize that was B.A.”

She frowned. “B.A?”

“Before Ana.”

Her lips curved. “A joke. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

His expression remained solemn. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Goes both ways.
She cleared her throat. “I guess I should tell you the reason I’m sort of gun shy.” When he continued to look at her she said, “Why I won’t just jump in bed with you.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, ah. It’s been awhile.”

The barest of smiles touched his lips. “How long? A few months?”

Her laugh flitted out. “Try four years.”

His smile disappeared.

He pivoted and strode away to a table set by the plush green couch, picked something up, then smoothed his hair back with his hands. Binding his beautiful hair at his neck, he continued on to the side bar. Muscles moved in his back as he walked, like a large leopard’s strength rippled beneath its skin as it moved.

“Tell me what happened with the Suits.” He returned to the Jonas she knew, demanding and poker-faced as he poured a couple of drinks.

Back to business. She turned her back, reaching up to the hollow feeling of loss in her heart. It was for the best that she’d called a stop before their attraction had gotten out of hand. Her priority was to find out what Jonas knew regarding the X shipment…not to mention staying out of jail. And there was the team; she’d blown the mission once. She couldn’t do it again.

“Ana…are you okay?”

She ignored the latest question. “Not much to tell about the Suits. I went to do a follow up on a bartender connected to Salvador Tyler. The guy ratted me out. They came looking.” She was strong enough again to face him. Jonas walked to her and handed her a drink. “I’m more positive than ever Tyler’s behind the shipment. I just need to know where and when and then…”

“Then what?”

“Then, this mission is over. I’m done.”

He scowled down at his glass. “Until the next mission.”

I wish
. “That about sums it up.” Raising the glass to her nose, she sniffed, her lips curving. “Dr. Pepper. How did you know?”

His rebel eyebrow rose. Funny. The scar that slashed through his eyebrow fit him more than ever now. “I noticed a couple of empty cans at your place. And, well, I also got the impression you don’t drink alcohol much.”

She flashed back to the night up in his office above Zero, where she nearly hacked up a lung after a swallow of vodka. Or maybe he’d guessed after the brandy incident the night they rescued Paul.

Her cheeks heated for the second time, which irritated her. “Are you going to follow through with your end of the bargain and tell me what you know about the drugs?”

He sipped dark liquid. His probably wasn’t soda. “I know as much as the DEA. My Israeli source told me the shipment was on its way and that the tablets were mixed. He didn’t know the arrival, or wouldn’t say.”

“Or who was behind it,” she said. “But you know.”

He shook his head, turned away, and walked to the picture-view window. His posture was stiff.

“What about Dolini, Jonas? How did you find out about him?”

“A tip. I wanted to know who his supplier was. He’d also been the last to see one of my men. I’ve got more problems besides the location and the shipment.”

“You mean, besides the fact dealers are connecting your name to the X?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know.”

“About what?”

“Two of my security have been killed. Shot in the back of the head. A third man is missing.”

“Who’s after you, Jonas?” He didn’t move, or say a word. She slammed her glass down on the coffee table. “Damn it, please,
tell me
.”

He whirled, making her flinch, and then threw his glass across the room. The glass hit the wall, shattering, spilling shards on the soft carpet. He stared at her, his chest expanding with rapid breaths.

Her stomach tightened at the powerful sight of him.

His expression filled with disgust. “Salvador Tyler.”

Miles stood in front of his desk, hands on his hips, scanning faces of the SIDE team. “Expect to be called in at a moment’s notice until this mission is solved. We’re damn close, but not close enough. This evening DEA picked up Derek Meyer, the Ink Dome’s bartender, for questioning regarding Salvador Tyler. Switch informed us the same men she witnessed killing Thomas Dolini were the same ones Meyer informed of her location tonight.”

“Where is Switch?” Digit asked.

“Working her undercover mission with Saven.” He rolled his shoulders. “Now here’s what we know. The lab results came in on the X tablet Dolini gave to Switch. It tested positive for PMA.”

“And Dolini was passing it off as E?” Romeo questioned.

Miles nodded. “With this new evidence, it presents a couple of scenarios, the worst case being the entire load is PMA. This shipment gets out, every tablet is a potential overdose if distributed as Ecstasy.”

Romeo cursed.

Digit said, “Wow.”

He held up his hands. “Quiet till I’m done. Dolini was in fact killed by the men who are after Switch. Brooks and Saven are still priority suspects. It’s no coincidence Saven’s name is being connected to the shipment. We know there’s been some kind of feud between Tyler, Brooks and Saven. Garcia and the Black Dragons have been too quiet. They aren’t off the list entirely, but they’re no longer priority.”

He smoothed a thumb and finger down the sides of his mustache. “Whoever is behind the shipment has taken out two known X dealers. Dominic Barley was found late this afternoon floating in the Bay. Same weapon used as in the Dolini killing. We connected Tyler’s mother’s Social Security number to what we think is Tyler’s alias, Sam Pike, but DEA says it’s not enough to bring him in for questioning.