by Cait Jarrod
Okay, neither Sam, nor a kiss, but he was demanding. “Or what? You’ll handcuff me to you to make sure I do as you say?” Actually, the idea had some appeal.
“If that’s what it takes.” Jake drew his head back, apparently realizing how close his face was to hers, then straightened and raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t mean to order you or swear in your presence.”
The gentleness of his eyes caused her to believe him, and she relaxed, but just for a minute. The impact of the conversation ran through her mind. A terrorist sent the notes. Tears threatened.
Jake knelt in front of her and tugged on her hands, easing her to his chest. Clutching his shirt, the tears broke and she cried. Minutes passed before she pushed him away, outraged. He thought she worked for Sanjar. She didn’t want or need his sympathies. She withdrew and aimed her eyes to the floor. “Where is Steve?” she mumbled.
Jake pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know Steve, but we need to figure how you’re involved in Sanjar’s activities. We’ll work on that later, but first Agent Lever will stay near you today and take you home when you’re ready. Other agents will be posted outside your townhouse and the café. I have family business to take care of tonight, but soon as I’m done, I’ll be come by.”
He grasped the doorknob.
She needed one more question answered. “Who drove the motorcycle?”
He paused and observed her. “A Black Scorpion, one of Sanjar’s gang members.”
Chapter Four
Jake left Pamela’s office and headed toward the dining room. The alarm in her eyes was apparent. His directness had been callous. The way he saw it, he had two choices. One, to sugar coat his words to make them sting less, or two, be straightforward, removing all uncertainties. Sugar coating information never worked out in his favor when civilians were involved. His meaning was usually lost in translation. So, he had blurted that the Black Scorpions were Sanjar’s gang and left. He was sure he’d have to answer questions later.
Noticing the patio was empty, and Marge was nowhere in sight, he advanced through the dining room to the kitchen. He pushed one of the swinging doors open and peeked inside. Marge stood behind an island kneading dough. The waitress was nowhere in sight. “See you around, Marge.”
She looked up from her work and smiled brightly at Jake. If he had known either one of his grandmothers, he imagined they’d been like Marge, always happy to see him. “Come back later. I’ll bake you some cookies.”
“I’ll try.”
“Gonna see your parents today? Oh that’s right, they’re on a cruise.” Marge looked down at the dough. “I’d love to take a cruise.”
“They return later this week.” No sense telling Marge that he’d learned this information from Hal. He hadn’t talked to his foster family for years.
“Tell them I said hi, dear.”
Jake nodded and backed out of the door.
“Oh Jake,” Marge called after him.
He stuck his head inside the door and was surprised to see Marge standing in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him, making sure her doughy hands didn’t touch him, then kissed his cheek. “I am so glad you’re home safe and sound.”
Yep, grandmother material. He brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Me too.”
Jake let the swinging door close behind him, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He pushed open the front door and went outside. The sun shone brightly, promising a hot evening. He surveyed the area and spotted plain-clothed FBI guys positioned nearby, one on the corner of the street, and another sitting on a bench across from the café. In his mind, the FBI always stood out. You just needed to know what to look for. They either tried to be slick by smoothing their hair back, so their wrist was conveniently near their mouth as they talked into their radio, or they scratched their ear as they tapped the radio in their ear. At this moment, both men were doing exactly that. They were probably reporting his location to Larry. He didn’t like it, but it was the name of the game. Larry wouldn’t be letting Jake out of his sight until Sanjar was behind bars.
He nodded at the men and strolled west toward his car. He hoped the guys wouldn’t see any action, nevertheless, but it was likely they would. At this point, there was no telling when Sanjar would strike. After all, Sanjar had Jennifer killed in broad daylight.
Jake shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets. He hated wearing so many clothes in the middle of summer. If he had to chase someone, jeans offered more protection than shorts, although, they were constricting.
He shook his head, recalling how he met Jennifer. At that time, he was undercover as a fisherman. Sanjar was using waterways to fund his cause against the US. Since Jake was an expert fisherman, he landed the job as The Warrior. On land, his alias drove a motorcycle and wore a leather jacket with a Black Scorpion insignia on the back. Jennifer loved the whole bad boy persona, and she quickly became a biker groupie, hanging out at the same bars he did. He could still hear her yell his undercover name, Warrior, in the throes of passion. He grimaced. If he never heard the name again, it’d be okay with him.
His mind quickly went to the last time he saw Jennifer alive.
“When my job is done, I want you to come home with me to meet my family.”
As soon as the request left his lips, Jennifer moved out of his embrace and off the couch.
She darted from one side of the family room to the other in their small rented apartment. “Why would you want to do that? It’s not as if we could have a life together. You’re married to your job.”
Jake rose. “Jennifer, I have to work twelve hours a day now, but soon, the job will be over.” He longed to tell her all his secrets, everything the FBI had him do. He clasped her shoulders, stopping her from pacing. “Come home with me,” he implored, staring into her eyes.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she jerked away from his touch. “No, your life as a fisherman will always take precedence over me.”
The argument had started so quickly that Jake could hardly make heads or tails out of it, just like every other time he broached the subject of her meeting his family, but this time something was off. “Not true.”
Jennifer grasped the doorknob. “I have to go to work.”
“Jennifer, don’t leave mad.”
She paused, looked over her shoulder at him, then said, “I do love you.” Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.
Jake flung the front door open and called her name.
She stopped in the middle of the street and turned his way. A loud engine drew her attention, and she looked down the street.
A semi drove straight for her.
She screamed.
Jake charged to her side. The driver of the semi flashed his shiny teeth as he drove off.
He shifted Jennifer’s limp head in his lap. Blood covered her face, her clothes. Her entire body lay contorted on the hard pavement. Pain seeped into his bones, into his heart. It was too late. She was already gone. He didn’t get a chance to return her words. His heart was so heavy that he didn’t notice when Larry arrived at his side.
“Snap out of it, and let’s get the hell out of here. She’s not who you think.”
Jake wanted to punch Larry that day. The sensation vanished within the hour when he received the news that sent his whole world into a tailspin. Jennifer not only worked for Sanjar, but she was also his mistress.
Bile rose to his throat, threatening to explode and plunging Jake back to the present. He swallowed and raked his fingers through his hair. Jennifer had been killed because she wanted out of the organization. No one left Sanjar’s organization alive.
Despite the betrayal, he believed Jennifer deserved a decent burial. He had loved her, even if he had been unable to tell her. Jake had Larry bring Jennifer’s body to his hometown and ask Paul to make the funeral arrangements.
“Jake.” Footsteps pounded behind him. He ducked inside an entrance to a nearby alley and grabbed his gun. Slowly, he peeked around t
he corner. Pamela, surrounded by several men, ran toward him. Not good. If one of Sanjar’s men saw them, the case would be busted.
Jake snagged Pamela’s elbow as she approached and tugged her into the alley with him. He motioned for the men to retreat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, pulling her farther down the alley. “I told you what type of men are threatening you, and you walk outside in broad daylight, calling my name.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp and jabbed her hands on her hips. She lifted her chin and glared at him.
He’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. Her blue eyes shone like the Caribbean and the bit of sun that reached them sparkled against her hair. The deer in the headlights look vanished and in its place was one pissed off woman.
“Sorry if I don’t know how to play spy, but don’t insinuate I’m stupid. You’re the one who dumped a load of crap in my lap, and then walked away.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up. He’d been told by the officer last night that Pamela had had an encounter that made her vulnerable. He was mistaken. Outside of thunderstorms and bricks flying through windows, she didn’t appear to have a weak bone in her body.
Jake grabbed her hand and dragged her farther into the alley. The space was narrow, which didn’t give them much room, unfortunately. Her body skimmed his, awakening the desires he’d shoved down last night, the same ones he’d avoided years ago.
She hit his back. “Let go of me. I’m tired of you manhandling me.”
He stopped and faced her, his eyes tense and their bodies aligned perfectly. “I haven’t begun to manhandle you.” His voice rumbled inches from her face.
She blinked, and he watched the veil of shock slide across her beautiful features. He had said too much. He waited for her to slip away. Not an easy task in a confined area, yet, she could manage, if she wanted to.
She didn’t move.
He closed the minute space between them.
“Don’t!” Hands shoved against his chest. He didn’t budge.
She shifted past him. “How could you try to kiss me?” She fumed over her shoulder.
Man, he fucked things up. He couldn’t let her reach the street in this state. As she neared the opening to the alley, he caught up to her and slid his arm around her waist, holding her still. “Don’t,” he whispered into her hair.
Her hands landed on his arm, keeping him close. She leaned her head back against his chest. “Jake.” Her voice dripped of erotic promises.
Every muscle in his body responded, and he pressed his lips against her neck. Her skin tasted sweet.
She moaned.
The need to touch her lips overcame him. He trailed kisses up her neck, across her cheek, until he reached her mouth. She spun in his arms, and her mouth crushed against his before he could blink. Her hands raked through his hair as their tongues mingled. Each touch of her tongue sent a need through his body, and he realized he wasn’t getting enough. He wanted more of her. Knowing a tent erected in his pants, he grasped her butt and pulled her taut against him.
She gasped, paused, and eased her head back far enough that she saw his eyes and nothing else. A second passed as she studied him, a smile on her face. Suddenly, the veil that covered her face earlier returned. This time it wasn’t shock. A flurry of rage mixed with pleasure. “We shouldn’t have done this.”
They stood together, his hands firmly on her butt pressing her into his erection, and stared at each other. Each of them stood amazed at what happened.
He cleared his throat. It didn’t help. His voice was still gravely when he said, “No, we shouldn’t have.”
“I better get back. The other agents will be looking for me.”
Shit. The other agents had probably seen them. “We’ll talk later.”
Pamela stepped away, then looked back, catching Jake adjusting himself. She bit her lip to stop from smiling. “Really, we can’t do this again. I can’t … I don’t know how … after what happened…” Pamela stopped talking and shook her head. “I can’t, not now.”
He couldn’t either. Her words described his feelings exactly, word for unspoken word. He shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled.
She blinked and walked away from him. He pulled out a hand and pushed it through his hair. “Damn.”
“You can say that again.”
Jake looked in the opposite direction from where Pamela left. “Larry.” His hand dropped to his side. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Didn’t I tell you to remember the Alamo?”
Jake groaned. “I know. It wasn’t planned. It just happened.”
“This stuff is never planned. Don’t get yourself killed because you’re horny.”
“Larry.” Jake had numerous things to retort, but he kept them quiet. “I’ve got to deal with my brother right now. I don’t have time to deal with your shit.”
Larry chuckled. “Out of the pot to the frying pan, or is it the frying pan to the pot? It doesn’t matter. Either way, you’re screwed when Paul sees you.”
“Don’t forget you’re the person who put me in this position.”
Larry advanced. Close enough that when he spoke his spit landed on Jake’s face. “I beg your pardon, Agent Gibson, Jennifer Glass put you in that position. I cleaned up the mess to save your hide.”
Jake wiped the saliva away and glared at Larry. A beat later, he smacked Larry on the back. “I know. Thanks. You always have my back.”
****
Jake slid into his black Chevelle. Today would be the first time in over three years since he’d seen Paul, his foster brother. He didn’t expect the confrontation to go well.
Pulling out into traffic, Jake scanned the streets for Athletes R Us. He was still coming down from the adrenaline rush between Pamela and the heated discussion with Larry.
His left foot anxiously tapped on the floorboard as Panama Jack’s name flashed in his mind. Was this guy Pamela’s love interest? The thought dug under his skin. He and Panama Jack needed to have a talk. The man might have information about the case. Doubtful, but it’d give him reason to question the handyman.
He didn’t like the feelings that flooded his body when he thought of Pamela. The same feelings he had had years ago when he saw her around the café. He hit his hand on his steering wheel. Given his history with women, he would be smart to remember Jennifer’s duplicity and refuse to be taken in by another. No matter how much his body demanded something different.
The Athletes R Us sign glimmered on the right side of the road. Good. He needed to think about something else, rather than blue eyes and raven hair. He parked and ambled inside. After talking to the clerk, he learned that Paul had gone on a coffee run to a shop a street over.
On foot, he arrived within a few minutes. He pulled the door open. Inside, the air-conditioning cooled his dampened body, but the chilly glare he received from the only customer in the place sent an ache into his bones. Paul glared at him from a corner of the restaurant.
Jake placed his order at the counter. After the chirpy blonde-haired woman had refused to take his money, he moved toward Paul and the inevitable conversation. “We should talk,” Jake said, dropping into the chair across from Paul.
“We should have talked three years ago. Instead, the girl you were dating died, and you bailed.”
The blonde strolled over, set a fresh cup of coffee in front of Paul, and smiled.
“Thanks.” Paul squeezed her hand.
“Anytime,” the waitress winked as she wandered behind the counter.
Jake watched the rapport between the two. Paul always charmed the women. His green eyes and deep dimples helped. “Still have women eating out of your hands,” Jake commented.
“I bet you didn’t pay for your coffee, either.”
Jake sipped said coffee and winked.
“She has a thing for single guys.” Paul grinned.
This part of the conversation resembled old times. Damn, he missed his brother.
“Can’t say.”
Paul’s infuriated glare told Jake his opinion of his careless response. “You ass, you owe me an explanation!”
Jake’s eyes flicked toward the counter. No one was in the coffee shop, except the waitress, and she had disappeared into the back. It was time his brother knew the truth. After all, he’d come to wipe the slate clean. He leaned his elbows on the table, meeting the eyes of the man whose family opened their hearts and offered him a stable home. “My girlfriend, Jennifer, betrayed me.”
Paul flinched. “With whom?”
“A terrorist named Sanjar.”
Paul’s eyebrow arched as air gushed out of his lungs. “Was the car accident intentional?”
“Truck accident, and yes.”
“Damn.” Paul leaned back in his chair. “Why didn’t you contact me?”
“I couldn’t speak to anyone. Larry Newman flew me to a remote location. The FBI even had another agent living in my house for a while. Eventually, the agent closed it up, and I got my dog.”
“I noticed. It’s kind of weird watching people roam around your brother’s home, and you can’t do anything about it. Larry did contact Mom and Dad and me first before anyone entered.”
“He knew you’d beat the crap out of them if he didn’t.”
Paul gave him a sideways glance. “I want to beat the crap out of you now.”
Jake twisted. He didn’t want to fight his brother.
After a few seconds of glaring, Paul rested back in his chair. “Larry wouldn’t give any details. He said it was best that we were kept in the dark.”
“I know. I didn’t have control over how events occurred. Larry hid me in another country with no contact to anyone. Only recently was I allowed to return home.”
“So how did Jennifer betray you?”
“She was Sanjar’s mistress.”
“Holy shit. She used you.”
Holding his anger at bay, Jake nodded. Outside of losing his mother, the treachery of his girlfriend was the worst thing he’d ever experienced.
