Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (12 page)

“A lot of good that did,” Ty muttered.

He watched Warren brush Jordan’s hair to one side and start nuzzling her neck.

Game over
. Ty was pretty sure a blood vessel had just burst inside his head. So much for slow, steady, and controlled. Did Jordan think he was just going to sit and watch?

Not fucking likely.

He wove through the sea of tables toward the other end of the nightclub. The end where Jordan’s station was and probably the spot where Warren would take his last breath.

Warren stood and tugged Jordan out the back door.

Fine with me
. He didn’t need a nightclub full of witnesses when he beat Warren unconscious.

Arlo Buck walked through the front doors of the club and almost collided with Ty. “McGee, follow me.”

Ty stopped midstride and stared at Arlo.

“You deaf or just dumb, boy? Get your ass over here.” Buck plopped down at a table next to the bar.

Ty backtracked to Buck. He was still debating the wisdom of ignoring him and heading out the back door to kill Warren, but Jordan’s voice played like a recording in his head.
“Stay away from me in there.”

“You legally covered to carry a gun?” Buck asked.

The question caught Ty’s interest.

“Yes. I haven’t needed one in here, but I’ll make sure it’s visible if you want me to.”

“I’m getting some important deliveries of alcohol and food for the Christmas and New Year’s parties. I want security, so all of the bouncers working. I want you armed. I don’t trust them delivery guys. If they can find a way to screw you, they will.”

Ty’s focus shifted solely to Buck for a moment. Guys who delivered food and alcohol weren’t notoriously untrustworthy, but guys who delivered drugs certainly could be. He nodded. “Okay. When?”

“Couple weeks before Christmas. Probably that Monday while we’re closed.” Ty nodded again and turned to walk away.

“McGee, what’s wrong with you?” Buck called out.

On a flash of brilliance, Ty decided the best way to save Jordan was to fuel the fire between Arlo and Warren. “Warren came in about a half hour ago. He’s pretty drunk, hitting on the waitresses and being loud. I know it’s a bar, but he’s obnoxiously loud. Hands all over the girls. He just pushed one of them out the back door.”

Buck turned red, as though his blood pressure spiked about fifty points. Of course, that was precisely the intended reaction. For one brief moment, Buck looked almost human, more like an angry dad than a mean, nasty, drug-dealing son of a bitch.

“Go get him. Tell him to get in my office. Now.”

Ty didn’t have to be asked twice. He shot toward the back door like a bullet.

…

It wasn’t so much the whiskey on Warren’s breath or even the stale smell of sweat that made Jordan want to heave. It was the hand he cupped over her breast while pushing her up against the back wall. Not to mention it was freezing, and she was in shorts. All in all, not a position she hoped to find herself in. Not today anyway.

She was perfectly aware she’d been playing a dangerous game with Warren, and now the shameless flirting was beginning to backfire. The plan, her plan, was to dodge any serious moves for at least a few more weeks. Warren obviously had a timeline of his own.

He squeezed her breast and whispered in her ear. “Kiss me, Jordan.”

The whiskey on his breath could have knocked out a lesser woman. She angled her face to the side.

It was a sticky situation at best. She would
not
insult him; a friendly line of communication with the Bucks was a must. But God, she wanted his hands off her body. She tried to let him down easy, but the subtle hints didn’t seem to be registering.

“I’m sorry, Warren. I don’t want to do this here. You’re drunk. I’m freezing. Anyone could walk out the door at any moment. I know these outfits look like an open invitation, but I do have some standards.”

The back door opened, and Ty flew out. He stormed up to Warren and got in his face. “Your dad wants you in his office. Right now.”

“Scram, McGee.”

Warren didn’t bother to look at Ty, which was his first mistake. Not bothering to take his hand off her breast was probably the second.

Ty shoved him. But it was the fist he powered into Warren’s stomach that dropped him to his knees and made him puke.

Jordan stood still and silent. Emotion told her to step between them and knock their heads together. Instinct told her to stand clear. She’d asked Ty to back off. The fact that he ignored her should have infuriated her, but being rid of Warren’s hands was a definite bonus to his interference. And she hadn’t had to break cover to save herself. So she just stood there.

Warren struggled upright. “You sealed your fate here, McGee. You’re fired.”

“Your dad hired me. If he fires me, I’ll leave. But not before I tell him I found you assaulting a waitress in a parking lot while you were drunk. I heard a rumor that he doesn’t like it when you come to work trashed. We can go in there and cause serious trouble for one another, or I can forget that I found you out here mauling an employee. Your call.”

Warren glared at Ty as he stumbled past Jordan and back into the nightclub.

Jordan took one deep breath to compose herself. She swallowed hard, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to generate some warmth.

“It was no big deal,” she said, although Warren probably outweighed her by two hundred pounds. Still, she was no pushover and had been trained well. With a weapon, she could have certainly dropped him. But alone, one-on-one, as tough as she believed herself to be, she knew it wouldn’t have been a fair fight.

Apparently, Ty saw her moment of uncertainty.

She expected anger, a lot of anger. Instead, he put a hand on her chin and tilted her head up.

“Are you okay?”

His words were soft and sweet, but she’d be damned if she’d tear up like a helpless female because some big, drunk ape put his hands on her. But that had been as close as she’d like to get to a very large, very drunk man who took whatever he wanted and never suffered any consequences.

Ty pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her trembling body. He was warm and smelled…Well, as he always did. Amazing. The contrast between Warren’s rough hands and Ty’s gentle caress made her body wilt against him.

It struck her, profoundly, just how attracted she was to him. It was so much more than anything she’d ever felt, so much more than anything she’d ever wanted to feel. Definitely more than anything she
should
be feeling.

“Shit,” she mumbled into his chest as her arms slid around him. “I’m fine. Go back in. I just need a moment here.”

“Go home, Jordan. Get out of this place. If you need financial help until we find you something else to do, I’ll help. You need to—”

“Stop, Ty. Just stop.” She found the strength to push away from him. “Unless I go in and Buck fires me, I’m not quitting. You’re the one who just hit Warren. You’re the one who may not have a job much longer.”

“Job or no job, I can help you. You said you never had a safety net; I’m offering to be yours. You don’t have to put up with this crap. I want you out of here. Now. No arguments.”

Her head began to swim. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. Instinct told her to take his head off for the utter stupidity of what he was demanding.

“Maybe you don’t want to be taken care of, fine. You can pay me back. Can you honestly stand there and tell me you wouldn’t like to walk away from this place?”

How did it all get so complicated? Huh, as if she didn’t know.
Sex
complicated everything. She was in new territory. She’d never done anything quite so stupid. And yet, as much as she wanted to regret the whole thing and hate herself, hate him, and walk away, she was quite honestly having a hard time getting there.

“Look, I can’t deny that I, you know, feel something. But damn it, Ty, I told you from the first day I met you that this”—she motioned between them—“whatever you think it is, can’t happen. You can’t go chasing me around or even look in my direction. I need you to pretend I don’t exist.”

“Yeah? Tell me this doesn’t exist for you.” He pulled her into his arms and crushed his lips over hers, kissing her roughly at first before letting it slide into a simmer of tenderness and passion.

Her knees buckled, her fingers dug into him, and her heart thundered. Her heart always thundered when he touched her.

He stroked his tongue across her bottom lip. Breathless, shivering, and almost incoherent from the kiss, she stepped back and stared at him.

“Maybe that doesn’t exist for you,” he said, “but it sure the fuck does exist in my world. Why are you here? Why are you scared of them? What do Warren and Arlo have on you that’s trapping you in this godforsaken hellhole?”

She wasn’t sure of the best way to answer and needed time to think, so she simply turned to walk away.

He snagged her wrist and pulled her close. “Neither of us is moving from this spot until you come clean. Since you’re about to freeze to death, you better start talking fast. I mean it, Jordan.”

Instinctively, in one slick move, she broke his hold, swept both of his legs, and tumbled him to the ground.

“The men in this town need a serious damned lesson on how to treat women,” she said, stomping back into Buck’s.

…

Ty half smiled at the way she’d taken him down. She had some moves he hadn’t expected. Must have been how she took down the old man the other night. Almost like she’d had self-defense training or something.

And with that thought, he got it.

Jesus, I’m an idiot.

Never saw it coming, just like a bullet between the eyes.

She had moves, intelligence, beauty, and, it looked to him, very possibly…

A badge.

Chapter Eight

Jordan hadn’t yet put the key into her door when she noticed it wasn’t latched. “Son of a bitch,” she mumbled under her breath. Someone had been there and done a slop-ass job of breaking in. They hadn’t even bothered to cover their tracks.

Her hand instinctively slid to a holster that wasn’t there. Being accustomed to carrying a gun, she found working without one on her person was the thing she hated most about this particular undercover. Being weaponless was a risk, but carrying while wearing short-shorts and a bikini top was a logistical impossibility.

She opened her purse, grabbed her Glock, and popped into the apartment with a low, fast sweep. No visible intruder, but the bedroom light was on. She paused to listen. No noise. No footsteps.

She whipped around the corner. Again, nothing. Another quick sweep into the bedroom proved uneventful, but the window was open. She walked to it and looked down, noticing some dirt that could have come from a shoe on the windowsill. A jump from the second floor wasn’t impossible. Not one she’d voluntarily like to take, but if someone had been in the bedroom when they heard her come in, they might have done it.

Content with the knowledge she’d at least scared the intruder into an ugly jump for freedom, she’d clear the apartment and take inventory. Hopefully, it had just been a college kid looking for cash. She’d left precious little about her real life lying about, nothing that should feed anyone’s suspicion. But the idea that someone was interested enough to break in was disturbing and something she’d need to report.

A peek in the closet showed her clothing untouched. If a thief had been looking for electronics or valuables, he’d have been sorely disappointed. Unless he collected rooster knickknacks, there wasn’t a damn thing inside the place worth carrying over the threshold.

She stepped back into the hallway, her instincts kicking in just a second before large, powerful hands grabbed her from behind.

She rammed an elbow into a rib cage. When the guy crumpled over, she landed a sharp, vicious blow to his head with the butt of her gun.

He dropped to the floor and didn’t move as she drove the barrel of her Glock into the back of his neck.

The takedown had been much too easy for an intruder of his size. Not a single protest, no fighting back. Jordan blinked in the dim light filtering in from the bedroom and immediately recognized the dark, wavy hair and expansive shoulders. Her gun was burrowed squarely into the neck of Tyler McGee.

“You really are some kind of an idiot, aren’t you?” Stomping a foot on his butt, she stepped over him and raged off into the other room. “Honestly, what the hell are you doing here? Do you have a death wish? I could have shot you.”

He stood and followed her. Saying nothing, he folded his arms across his chest, and his lips curved into one of his smug smiles.

“Really? You think this is funny?” She raised the gun, it at him. “I ought to shoot that stupid grin right off your conceited face.”

“Shooting an unarmed man at point-blank range seems like a bad move for a cop.” He leaned casually against the back of her couch, not at all bothered by the gun aimed at him. “They’d probably take your badge if you killed an innocent man.”

Her eyes opened wide as her brain fully absorbed the impact of his words. She made a sound very similar to a cornered, rabid animal. “You are a lot of things, McGee. Innocent is
not
one of them.”

He’d figured it out. Figured her out. She took a few steps and kicked over a dining room chair, then whipped around and threw a rooster saltshaker at his head like a missile.

He ducked.

“Damn it all to hell. You’ve been a royal pain in my ass since the moment you walked into Buck’s,” she said.

She’d blown it. For the first time in her career, she’d blown it. A huge multi-jurisdictional investigation, and she’d been made as a cop.

This whole hellish undercover had been one big, hairy disaster from the moment she’d crossed into the little flea-infested, two-bit, rat-hole town. And given the fact she’d messed the whole damned thing up so thoroughly, screwing with McGee’s mind felt like the only reasonable thing left to do.

If she was going down and had to give up this undercover, she was at least going to give him as much grief as she could inflict. She stalked to a small desk in the corner, unlocked a drawer, and pulled out her badge and handcuffs.

Deadly serious, she walked back and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Down on your knees.” With the wave of her gun, she motioned for him to drop.

His face sobered. “What?”

Ha
. That knocked the smart-ass grin right off his face. “I said get down on your knees. Put your hands behind your head.”

She watched as confusion and skepticism dawned in his eyes. He had no idea what to make of her now. Oh, yeah, she was going to enjoy this. And she was going to find out once and for all what his connection to Arlo Buck was.

“Funny. You’re real funny, Jordan. Come on, I’m not getting on my knees.”

She tossed him her badge. “I’m Jordan Delany, a narcotics detective with the St. Louis County PD. I’m working on an interagency drug task force team based in St. Louis. We’re investigating a trafficking ring believed to be operating out of Buck’s Nightclub. Because you broke into my place tonight, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering. And because of your involvement as Arlo Buck’s head security guy, I’ll do my best to throw in suspicion of drug trafficking with intent to distribute.”

It was a bluff, but a decent one. Watching the color drain from his face was satisfying. Very satisfying. She could see him reeling from the insult, but she knew better than to think he’d quietly cave. She’d bet every last dime on the fact that the man had never quietly caved on anything in his entire life.

“You can’t arrest me. I didn’t do anything.”

“At the very least, you broke into my apartment. You can’t deny that, since I caught you in the act. B and E alone can get you time, McGee. Add assaulting an officer, resisting arrest, drug charges—you’re in deep.”

Jordan was pleased her bluff had the intended effect. His eyes were wild with anger, but he swallowed it quickly. It was a nice recovery. And such a smooth one that she suspected he was plotting his countermove.

“Drug charges? Against me? That’s ridiculous.” His tone was dangerous and even, his body language implied, “I’m not worried.” The man wore his arrogance like a finely made suit, but his eyes were a dead giveaway. He’d never be able to hide a damn thing from her in those overly expressive eyes. They spoke volumes in complete silence. Right now they said he was livid.

“I only broke in to get you to admit to being a cop. It finally sank in when you took me down in back of Buck’s. Your moves were too powerful, too practiced, too precise for a cocktail waitress who’d simply taken a self-defense class. I knew you’d never come clean unless I forced you, and here, you defended yourself like a cop, gun and all. Case closed.”

“Let me get this straight.” She stepped closer. “You figured it more logical to break into my apartment and possibly get a bullet put in your ridiculously smug ass than to just confront me? You really are some kind of stupid. Get down on your knees. Now!”

Vibrating with anger, he assumed the pose—the one she’d seen him use on Warren. The one he’d whip out on any customer who dared to challenge him. The arms-folded, chin-set, I’m-not-budging stance.

“I’m not amused with your game, Jordan. I’m inside Buck’s for the same reason you are. I’ve spent six months embarrassing myself and my family, letting the rumor circulate that I lost my badge because I failed a drug test. Now that I’m inside, no one is going to screw this up for me. Not even you, sweetheart. Sorry.”

Jordan leaned casually against the wall and raised an eyebrow. “Wanna bet? Last time I checked, a federal investigation trumped the hell out an unauthorized, half-assed local one. I’d be happy to call my FBI contact and let him come sort this out.”

An interesting shade of pissed-off red flushed his face. “You can’t be serious. Everyone knows Arlo Buck is a major distributor of drugs, and not one person wanted to risk crossing him. It’s about damn time someone did something about it. I’m on the same side of the law you are. Don’t screw with me. If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

“No joke, cowboy.” Jordan stood straight, let every bit of emotion drain from her face. Bahan had dubbed it her
ice bitch
face. It had the intended effect when she was working over a junkie in one of the interview rooms. Ty certainly wouldn’t be a pushover, but she hoped it would set him off kilter for at least a minute or two. “I’ll ask for your cooperation one more time. Down. Now. Put your hands behind your head.”

He dropped, laced his fingers, and nailed her with a look so dangerous, it almost unnerved her enough to blow her game.

She walked around behind him and slapped the cuffs on. “Start talking, cowboy. Everything you know about Arlo Buck.”

Stepping back in front of him, she bent slightly to get in his face. “If I get the teensy- tiniest inkling that your story is off, I’ll have a dozen federal agents here before I get done reading you your rights.”

“I’m a damn cop, too, Jordan. My chief authorized me to do some poking around on Arlo Buck. I’ve only worked for him for a couple days. This is bull. You can’t touch me, and you know it. You need to call my chief.”

Relief buzzed all the way to her toes. Having sex with another cop was considerably better than sleeping with a criminal. It still wasn’t good, but if he was telling the truth, maybe last night’s indiscretion wouldn’t threaten her badge.

“I don’t need to do anything but make one simple call and wait for the special agent in charge to come haul you away. Spill it now, McGee. If you’re really trying to bust the Bucks, lay it all out for me. Your suspicions, your research, your hunches.”

Sparring with another cop was never as easy as yanking the chain of some street thug. The problem being, he knew the law, too.

“See, you keep threatening me, but you’ve made no serious attempt to read me my rights. No call for backup.” His smug smile returned. “I think you believe me.”

“Don’t think. Just talk.” She was channeling her ice bitch, but she needed to study him in order to get a really good handle on whether he was telling the truth or not. And therein was the catch-22. Looking at him seriously screwed with her instincts.

“You know why you’re not calling for backup?” His smile grew even more cocky and self-assured. “Because you already know you don’t need any. You know I’m on your side.”

He sighed as if digging deep for patience. “Look, I’m sorry I set you off by busting in here tonight, but I needed to know if I was right. I needed to know if we could work together and trust each other.”

She choked out an incredulous laugh. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back the hell up. We are
not
partners. We are
not
working together. This isn’t going away just because you want it to. You wanted to find out if I was a cop by breaking in here tonight? Well, congratulations, I am a cop, and you’re in serious trouble.”

Dropping onto his butt, he began to shift around, the irritation of being restrained clear on his face. “Is all this really necessary?” He jerked against the cuffs. “I get it, you’re pissed. But quit screwing around. I know you’re a cop; so am I. I want to help you. We can do this together. If there’s an investigation going on, I want to be a part of it.”

“Well, that’s going to be tricky to pull off from jail,” she answered coolly.

Without a doubt, the man had more balls than brains. She could totally see him trying to be the single protector of Titus; it was just like him. Stupidly cocky and unbelievably dangerous. Vigilante cop, taking on a drug ring all alone. No backup, no contacts, no FBI or DEA. She actually bought that scenario more than she bought into him being a dirty cop.

“Come on, take these off. We need to talk this through. I can help you, Jordan. If you’re going up against the Bucks, you’ll need help. You’ll need me.”

“Listen, sport, I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday. As much as it may shock and amaze the pig-headed, chauvinistic attitudes so deeply engrained in this godforsaken town, I’m more than qualified for this job. I do not, under any circumstances,
need
you.”

“Yeah, darlin’,” he mocked, pure country drawl in his words. “You’re doing a bang-up job so far. And hell, you’re right, you didn’t need any local hick cop when Lewis kicked you face first onto the floor at Buck’s. No, sir”—he laid the drawl and the sarcasm on thick—“you and your fancy investigation didn’t need me to cover your naked breasts or take you to a hospital or stop Warren Buck from having his way with you out behind the club tonight.”

“You’re an ass,” was all she could manage through the blinding rage.

He dropped the sarcasm and the drawl but continued to glare. “Maybe I am, but I know a hell of a lot more about this town than you do, things your big-city training can’t teach you. I don’t care how many agencies you claim to be working for; they don’t know this town. They don’t know Arlo Buck. And none of you know me. So take the cuffs off now. Settle down, and get over your snit because I surprised you tonight.”

Jordan was pretty sure her brain had just seized up. Settle down?
Snit?

Her head began to pound. Or maybe it was mini-strokes from the spike in blood pressure. He was going to kill her with smugness and stupidity. It was a new technique, one she hadn’t seen before, but damned if she wasn’t one step away from an aneurysm.

The fact that he was local and no doubt did have a perspective on the town that she would never have throbbed like a rotten tooth.

She paced, tamping down the desire to throttle him. He was actually trying to call the shots while wearing handcuffs. She had no actual desire to arrest him, but she was far from done when it came to getting answers.

Turning, she allowed her eyes to connect with his. So much always passed between them in a simple glance. His jaws were clenched, his brows drawn together with a line of stress etched between them. The last thing she wanted was for him to shut down before she got the answers she needed.