BETRAYED:: Sizzling HOT Detective Series (Book 3, The Criminal Affairs Collection Book 3;)

by Taylor Lee

  He blew out a hard sigh and managed to respond relatively calmly. “Remember, Viviana, you and I agreed that we are going to work on this together. We can’t do that if you aren’t willing to talk to me.”

  She shook her head and raised her still tear-streaked face to him. He was surprised to see the heat in her eyes. He’d hoped that her sobbing crash had washed away her anger, but her next words confirmed it had not. “I know I said that before, Jax. But I . . . I don’t know if I can.” Her chin shot up and her stormy blue eyes darkened. “Besides, you . . . you went behind my back and investigated me. How could you do that, Jax? How dare you?”

  Jax hauled in a deep breath of air and said calmly, “I dared because I love you, Viviana. And because I refuse to let you bear this burden alone. We made a commitment to one another that we were going to work through this hideousness together. When it became clear to me that you would not be forthcoming, I took matters in my own hands.”

  She gave an aggrieved snort. “Your hands and Stryker’s. And who knows how many others.”

  Jax was impressed that he responded carefully. It wasn’t easy, but he knew he had to let go of his own anger if they were going to get through this.

  “Viviana, I’m going to say a couple of things, and I want you to listen to me, hear what I am saying. Serge Stryker has spent most of his career working on crimes involving Internet pornography and sexual abuse. I knew if anyone could find information regarding your case, it was Serge.”

  Viviana glared at him and said bitterly, “I wasn’t a case, Jax. You made it that.”

  Again with a huge effort, Jax tamped down his anger, forcing himself to see the tortured girl under her brazen façade. “No, Viviana, you weren’t a ‘case’ per se because somehow you were courageous enough to fight back and get out of the hideous situation you were in.” Reaching for her hands, he held them tightly, forcing her to look at him. “Sweetheart, when I read Serge’s report, I was consumed by two very powerful emotions. The first was a level of fury at those vile men who assaulted you I didn’t know I was capable of. I was also angry with myself.” At her questioning frown, he continued. “I know on one level that doesn’t make sense. But it kills me that I wasn’t there to protect you from the shocking things that happened to you.”

  When she started to speak, Jax raised his hand, stopping her. “After Serge managed to talk me down and I stopped beating up on myself, I allowed myself to feel an even more powerful emotion. That was stunned gratitude that somehow, someway, you endured what you did and survived. Jesus God, baby, you not only survived, you thrived. Do you have any idea how extraordinary that is, Viviana? How much we owe that young girl that you were?”

  When she looked away, refusing to meet his gaze, he reached again for her hands, grateful she didn’t pull away. “Viviana, sweetheart, you don’t have to handle this alone. Because you and I are going to deal with it together.”

  She didn’t answer for a long moment, then looked up at him. The anguish in her stormy eyes was underscored by the tremor in her voice. “But, Jax, what if I don’t want to remember? Can you understand that?”

  “Unfortunately or, in my opinion, fortunately, Viviana, you do want to remember. That’s what your nightmares are about. Do you know why you are having them and why they are so much more frequent?”

  When she shook her head but refused to meet his gaze, he said, “Because I’m here. And because you know that I will never let anyone hurt you again. You know that, don’t you, darlin’?” At her tentative nod, Jax continued. “We are two well-trained investigators, and together we are going to find the men who abused you and ensure that they spend the rest of their days in the toughest prison I can find. In the process, we are going to help an extraordinarily brave young girl come to grips with her abusive past.”

  Jax stopped talking. If they were going to achieve a breakthrough, Viviana needed to agree. As much as he wanted to help her, he needed her support. He was gratified when she looked up at him and nodded. When she still hesitated, he prodded, “Talk to me, Viviana.”

  Viviana slammed her eyes closed, determined to halt the tears building behind her lids. She would give anything to avoid Jax’s intrusive demands, but she knew that she couldn’t. He was right. Her nightmares were becoming an every-other-night terror. And now that she and Jax were living together, she couldn’t hide them. Remembering Jax holding her on his lap for most of the night as she came down from one of the worst nightmares she’d had, she gave in to the hard truth. Whether she wanted to or not, with the help of this powerful man, she was going to face her past.

  Shrugging, she began to speak. “You want to know all the ugly details about Viviana Moreau-slash-Reynolds’s past?” She glared at him and spit out, “Fine, here goes. My mother was a whore and a drug addict. She didn’t work the streets; she was much too high class for that. Instead, she brought her men home from the swanky clubs she frequented. The lucky ones—usually with the best dope, got invited to extended stays. Many times there was more than one man. We had a big house with a pool and a tennis court. My mom liked to sunbathe. Naked. I guess she had a great body. At least that’s what all the men told me. I stayed in my room most of the time. Everyone including my mother pretty much ignored me. A function of the drugs they consumed and the fact that I was a kid.”

  She hesitated, then pressing her lips together in a straight line, she continued. “That changed when I was eleven years old. Mostly the only people who talked to me were the maids. I guess I was pretty then. At least Sherman thought so. One night he left the others and came into my room. He forced me to suck him off. The next night he raped me. I told my mother, but she didn’t believe me. She said if it did happen, I must have led him on. For the next six months or so, Sherman brought friends home with him. To put it nicely, they had their way with me. I’m not sure what would have happened if my mother hadn’t killed herself.”

  At Jax’s shocked gasp, Viviana shook her head. “She OD’d. I found her in her room. I’m not sure how long she’d been dead. I got sent to live with my aunt. Like my mom, she was a high society bitch and liked men and booze as much as my mom had. She hated me. I guess she didn’t like that her boyfriends thought I was cute. After the third time I ran away, the cops turned me over to Child Protective Services. When CPS decided my aunt wasn’t fit to care for me, I got put in foster care. Weird as it sounds, that saved my life. In the next three years I got sent to seven different homes. The longest I stayed in any one place was seven months. My body was starting to develop and I guess I was pretty. At least all my ‘stepdads’ seemed to think so. I was removed from each of the foster homes for the same reason. The foster mother complained that I was trying to seduce her husband, or her live-in boyfriend, or her teenaged son. It wasn’t true. From the time I was twelve, I’d learned how to avoid the ‘dads.’ I got padlocks for my bedroom doors and made sure I was never alone. When the foster mom lied about me, I got sent to a new home. I was fifteen when I barely escaped a guy who was determined to rape me after he nearly beat me to death. I left the hospital AMA and decided I was done. I blew the system. I hit the streets and managed to stay alive, but barely. I was constantly being hassled by pimps and dealers. I guess God must have taken pity on me, because the third time a neighborhood cop arrested me, he and his family took me in. I changed my name to theirs and lived with them for the next two years. I graduated from high school when I was seventeen and got a scholarship to college. I wanted to be a movie star. I studied acting. But for some crazy reason, I couldn’t get the street out of my head. Officer Moreau got me into the police academy and the rest is history.”

  Chapter 5

  Listening to her hideous tale, made even more challenging by her flat delivery, Jax tried to absorb what she was saying. In the space of five minutes, without so much as a flicker of emotion crossing her face, she’d recounted a horror story that should have crushed her. That it hadn’t and she was sitting beside him, as one of the most intuitive and courageous polic
e officers he’d ever known was a miracle. Her ugly tale made many things clear, such as her pathological need to work alone and her unwillingness to trust anyone, including him. She’d learned through violently hard lessons that she could rely on one person: herself.

  Jax knew that there were many more details he would need to drag out of her or, more likely, find on his own. For Christ’s sake, she alluded to a home that, rather than being a tenement in a rundown neighborhood, sounded palatial. That she called her mother and aunt society bitches indicated that Viviana had grown up in a moneyed family, a family that shouldn’t be hard to trace. But why, then, had she ended up in Child Protective Services and a series of foster homes? Clearly, he needed more information, but tonight wasn’t the time to press.

  At that moment, Viviana met his gaze. Although glaring would be a better way to describe the heated expression she threw his way. Jax wasn’t surprised. She frequently used her anger to protect herself, to shut him out. He braced for the barrage that was sure to come. She didn’t disappoint.

  She lifted her chin and tossed her head flippantly, a sure sign she was on the attack. “So, Chief Hughes, are you satisfied now that you know all the disgusting details of my crappy life? That my mother was a ping-pong pussy? In addition to being a coked-up druggie? That she chose not to believe that her troupe of cum coasters was raping her kid? Are you happy now?” She added with a sneer, “Not exactly the all-American, white-bread family you grew up in, was it, Jax?”

  Jax agreed solemnly. “No, Viviana, it wasn’t. As for being satisfied that you have told me all the details of your challenging childhood? No, sweetheart, I’m not. But thank you, it was a good start.”

  “Too bad, Jax. I’m done.” Viviana rose to her feet and headed to the staircase, clearly intending to leave.

  He was beside her in seconds. He caught her arm and jerked her up next to him. His voice was curt. “I’ll decide that, Viviana. And no, sweetheart. We are far from done. And you’re not going anywhere.”

  She flushed and tried to pull away. When he shook his head, confirming that she wasn’t leaving, she changed tactics.

  “Jax, please, I’m tired. I don’t want to talk anymore. I . . . I can’t—”

  He interrupted her as he pulled her back into his arms. Holding her chin so that she couldn’t look away, he didn’t try to tamp down the emotion rippling through him. “You don’t have to talk anymore, Viviana. In fact, I’ll appreciate it if you don’t talk. However, I have several things that I need to say to you.”

  Backing her toward the sofa, he sat her down. He reached for the bottle of Maker’s Mark and refilled each of their glasses. Sitting beside her, he pinned her with a frowning gaze. He knew he should be comforting her, but that would have to wait. For the moment, he needed to tell her how much her ugly accusations had hurt.

  “I want to ask you a question, Viviana. If Ariel or any of the countless abused girls that you have saved railed at you, asking if you were satisfied that you now knew their ‘shame,’ how would you respond? Would you try to tell them they had nothing to be ashamed of? That they were victims of a horrible crime and that it was the perpetrators who should be shamed as well as punished? In addition, when they knew you were working with a team, what if those girls accused you of bringing your buddies into the conversation to further exacerbate their shame?”

  Viviana averted her gaze. That she was unwilling to look at him and the scarlet splotches flaming her cheeks confirmed that she knew what he was talking about. Leaning back, Jax took a hearty swallow of his scotch, then studied her through narrowed eyes.

  “Remind me, Viviana, when was the last time I spanked your ass?”

  Shocked, she jerked to attention, her eyes wide with surprise. Not waiting for her to answer, Jax said thoughtfully, “That’s right, now I remember. It was after one of your more obnoxious attempts to push me away with your antagonistic words and behavior.” He nodded as if clarifying his memory, then continued. “It’s been ten days since you were badly beaten and nearly killed by the Lolitas Unbound assholes. I concede that at this point, it would be bad form for me to turn you over my knee and spank the hell out of you. However, let me warn you. If you ever again imply that I’m ‘happy that you were shamed, or that I brought my buddies into the case so they also would know your shame,’ know that when I’m done spanking your ass, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.” His voice darkened with irony. “And yeah, I might just tell my buddies what your spectacular ass looks like spanked bright red. Maybe we could all yuck it up at your expense like the despicable assholes you clearly think we are.”

  Viviana visibly swallowed, then averted her gaze. When she continued to look away, Jax reached for her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “Tell me, Viviana, that you understand how angry I am and, yes, dammit, that you couldn’t have hurt me more if you’d slid a knife in my gut and twisted it. And while I know it’s not in your nature, at some point you might even consider apologizing for making such terrible accusations. To the man and some of his so-called buddies who won’t rest until the vermin who hurt you are in the deepest, darkest level of hell we can find. If we can keep from slaughtering them first.”

  Seeing his anger and, more challenging, the hurt in his eyes, Viviana was overcome by self-hatred. God, what was wrong with her? Was she so fucked up that she only knew how to strike out? To try to make other people hurt as much as she did? Even the man who she knew would make it his life’s work to find and destroy the men who had raped her? She struggled with her incoherent thoughts. How could she make him understand that she was ashamed? That she didn’t want to be a victim. She didn’t want anyone, especially Jax and, yes, his strong Special Ops guys to know how weak she’d been. Knowing she couldn’t live with herself until she tried to explain, she swallowed past the gargantuan lump in her throat and made a halting attempt.

  Gazing up at the frowning man, she said, “Jax, I . . . I am sorry. You’re right. Those were dreadful things to say.” She hesitated, then forced herself to go on. “I don’t know how to say this so that you will understand. But I am ashamed of what happened to me. I . . . in a way, I’m embarrassed. I think of myself as a strong person. I can take care of myself. I don’t want to be a victim . . . ” She stopped, knowing that she was only making matters worse. She could never make him understand. Besides, it was getting impossible to suppress the sobs swelling in her throat. Not able to speak, she shook her head and slammed her eyes shut, determined not to let him see the tears burning the backs of her eyelids.

  Jax saw her agony and fought the guilt threatening to consume him. Christ, Viviana was fragile as hell. Instead of comforting her, he’d given in to his anger and chastised her. But even as he chided himself, he was glad that he’d taken her on. They were facing a hideous situation filled with landmines for them both. Viviana needed to know he had boundaries, just as he was bending over backwards to respect hers. Seeing the distress written all over her pale face and the strain wracking her body, he reached for her. Of course she hated the thought of being a victim. He knew how much she relied on her physical strength and her wily courage to take on—and defeat—adversaries twice her size. He needed to help her differentiate between the phenomenally competent woman she was today and the eleven-year-old child who was attacked by evil men three times her size and four times her age.

  “C’mere, you.” Tugging her onto his lap, he held her tightly against him. “First, thank you for apologizing to me. And yes, I forgive you. I just needed you to know what you said was unacceptable. Listen to me, sweetheart. We are going to be under a shitload of stress as we navigate our way through this hideous mess. We need to take extra good care of each other. Now I want to speak to what you just said. Honey, you are one of the strongest, most competent cops I’ve ever known. Add to that, you are definitely one of the smartest and most intuitive detectives I’ve worked with. Your instincts are the stuff of legends. In short, you are a formidable adversary. The idea that any of us would consider yo
u weak is ridiculous.”

  Swiping at the residual tears on her face with his thumb, Jax added, “One more thing. Yes, baby, you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean you have to do it all on your own. God help anyone, including you, who doesn’t know that you are also in my care. And, Viviana, know that anyone who ever tries to come at you will have to go through me. Not to brag, sweetheart, but no matter who they are, that ain’t gonna happen.”

  Viviana rested against him, wondering when she’d been this exhausted. Jax must have known, because he picked her up in his arms and carried her down to their bed. He stripped off her clothes and murmured, “Turn over, baby, I want to get at that glorious backside of yours.” Assuming he wanted to make love, Viviana forced herself to try to shake off her fatigue. To her surprise, he squirted warming oil from her neck to her thighs with an extra dollop on her butt. In seconds he began massaging her, his expert fingers digging unerringly into the tenderest places. As he released each knot and sore place, he concluded with long, deep strokes that had her melting into the bed.

  The next thing she knew, he was sitting beside her with a mug of fragrant coffee in his hand. At what she was sure was the confusion on her face, he said with a satisfied smile, “Yeah, baby, it’s nine o’clock and time for your morning sludge. And yes, sweetheart, this one goes down in history. You slept soundly for nearly twelve hours. The only thing I had to do was make sure you never got more than four inches away from me. Your exhaustion did the rest.”

  ****

  Eight hours later, she, Greg, and Mick had spent most of the day scoping out a plan to begin the arduous task of infiltrating the two violent gangs who were intent on starting an all-out gang war. Greg Bannon, her direct supervisor, was savvy enough to defer to Viviana’s extensive knowledge of the city’s drug culture and the gangs who ruled it. He also didn’t press her for the identities of her CIs. Rather, he laid out the general plan and put her initials in most of the boxes. Pointing to the chart they’d created, he smiled at her. “This plan assumes, Sergeant Moreau, that as you gather information, you will apprise Detective O’Reilly and me and let us know how we can help.”