Chapter 26
Don’t get out, Mick. No matter what our overbearing chief said, I’m more than capable of walking myself to the door.” With that curt admonition, Viviana leapt from the car, slamming her door behind her.
Mick’s troubled countenance confirmed he was reluctant to let her go. Poking his head out the window, he called after her, “Jax is right, sweet cheeks. You look like hell. Get some sleep. I’ll be out front at six-thirty a.m. sharp.”
Practically crawling up the steps, Viviana castigated herself. Gee, no wonder she looked like shit. She’d had a total of five hours sleep in the last two nights. In addition, she’d been reamed out by a jealous wife who may or may not know that her husband had hit on Viviana during a midnight visit. And then there was being chased through the crowd at an exclusive political event by her clearly infuriated lover. The crowd that, incidentally, included the man she’d been onstage with for the last three days. She snorted a rough sound, close to a sob, remembering Jax taking her against the wall on the patio of the five-star hotel within earshot of the elite audience. She could only hope that their illicit coupling hadn’t become topic numero uno among the gossiping elite. She admitted with an embarrassed groan that the most compelling element of Jax’s assault was how his taunting words and outrageous actions had driven her to the most passionate orgasm she’d ever had.
It was hard not to dwell on the ugly confrontation with Enrique as they had left the hotel. It was embarrassing enough that her disheveled appearance had made it crystal clear that Jax had caught up with her and did God-knows-what to her. She was further humiliated when Enrique brazenly challenged Jax by saying that she was his guest and he planned to see her home. It took Jax two shots across the bow to shoot that off-base assertion to hell. The final indignity was when Jax, his cocky arrogance firmly in place, parked her in his car, dismissing Enrique as if he wasn’t worthy of further attention.
Still smarting from the ignominy of the humiliating square off between the two arrogant men, Viviana tried to focus on Jax’s fierce claim that the untenable situation wasn’t about a cockfight between him and Enrique. Rather, it was about him and her. In an about-face scant minutes later, he’d donned his imperious police chief cloak, and she became simply another member of his squad waiting for his commanding orders. His crisp, detached commands to her and the rest of the team made taking her as outrageously as he had a dim memory. Now entering her dark, silent condo, she wished that he had insisted on taking her home. That he’d reasserted the fierce connection between them. But instead of so much as kissing her goodnight, he’d dismissed her as casually as he had Enrique. Shunting her off to her partner, he’d given Mick a raft of instructions worthy of a disobedient child who’d stayed up past their bedtime. The final order on his list of what she was to do and not do was admonishing her to eat.
Hovering in the doorway to her empty kitchen, Viviana fought her tears. It was easy for Jax to say she should eat. When she was at his condo, he fed her an array of exotic food fit for a queen. Given the haphazard state of her housekeeping, she knew the most she’d find in her cupboards were stale crackers and expired cans of soup. Opening the refrigerator door, she stepped back in surprise. Instead of wilted vegetables, moldy cheese, and week-old cartons of take-out, she saw a refrigerator stocked with her favorite foods. The addition of the healthy options Jax insisted she eat confirmed who her personal assistant, or private chef, was.
Already feeling vulnerable to his omnipresence, Viviana didn’t want to look in the freezer. Certain of what she would find, she forced herself to peek inside. Sure enough, lined up in all their seductive glory were four pints of upscale gelato: two cartons of sea salt caramel, one Mediterranean mint, and one toasted coconut. They were her secret addictions, ones that only Jax knew.
Overwhelmed by the emotional maelstrom that had been tearing at her spirit for the last week, Viviana sank to the floor and gave in to the torrent of tears she’d been fighting since she saw him tonight. With a heartfelt sob, she acknowledged she’d never felt more lonely in her life. And, not incidentally, she’d never missed Jax more.
****
“Holy crap, sugar lips. Did you sleep a wink? You got circles under your eyes that would make a panda bear claim you as kin.”
Viviana sneered. “Thanks, partner. Gotta say you sure know how to make a girl feel good.”
Mick met her annoyed glare and shot her an apologetic shrug. “Damn, Vivi. In a four-way most glamorous contest between you and Marilyn, Rita, and Angelina, even with your raccoon eyes, you would win hands down. But, sugar lips, I’ll confess, I’m more concerned about the sadness in those baby blues of yours than any dark circles ringing them.” Before she could object, he added, “But whatever floobs your boobs, gorgeous as they are, I’ll accept. I’m just achin’ for the day that you will be back with us—your team. You know I don’t care if you are keeping us in the dark, lyin’ your sweet ass off ninety-nine percent of the time. I just want you with us, not that asshole politician.”
Viviana swallowed a sob, making her response three times harsher than she’d intended. “Goddammit, Mick. What the fuck do I have to do to prove that I’m on the team? Line you up in a row and take out my tape measure to see who’s worthy of my attention?”
“Forget the tape measure, sweet cheeks. Remember, you’re not measuring a flash in the pan politician.” Tugging her next to him, Mick’s dancing eyes and heavy Irish brogue spoke volumes. “If it’s your VCU chums you be linin’ up, let alone our fuckin’ police chief, better you forget the tape measure and bring out your yardstick.”
They were still laughing when they entered the squad room and met Jax’s frowning gaze.
“Glad you could make it, Detectives.” He glanced at his watch as if to confirm the reason for his annoyance.
Apparently not seeing his underlying anger, Mick tossed him his usual cheeky grin. “Hey, Jax, you know it can take a while for the sergeant to don her Enchantress garb.” He smiled at Viviana and shot Jax a salacious wink. “But hell, man, you gotta admit the result is worth the wait.”
Ignoring Mick’s familiar geniality, Jax pinned him with a hard glare. “To be clear, Detective O’Reilly, seven o’clock doesn’t mean seven forty-five. Particularly since I assigned you the task of getting your partner here on time, which as I recall, was seven a.m. sharp.” Motioning to the conference table where Greg Bannon was sitting with a troubled frown on his face, Jax said, “Please join Commander Bannon. Greg and I already updated Serge and the guys on the situation here. I dismissed them, waiting for you two, but will notify them when we are ready to talk. I wanted you both to hear the broader ramifications of our gang war.”
Shoving at his frustration, Jax admitted that as annoyed as he was at Mick’s nonchalant disregard for timeliness, his real concern was Viviana. She’d looked exhausted when he sent her home last night, but from her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes, he doubted she’d had any sleep. Even knowing that it had been impossible for him to leave the crime scene, he kicked himself for not taking her home. At least he would have seen that she ate decent food, rather than relying on the Maker’s Mark he was sure had been the sum total of her sustenance. He also would have drawn a hot bath for her, replete with relaxing herbs, before he tucked her in bed, where he would have held her until he was sure she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep.
When Viviana refused to meet his gaze and moved toward the empty chair beside Greg, Jax reached for her arm and pulled out the chair next to his. Her involuntary shiver as he seated her confirmed that she was as on edge as he was. Their razor-sharp reactions to one another didn’t bode well for what was sure to be a challenging day. Trying for humor to lighten the palpable tension in the room, he said with a forced grin, “Tell me, Sergeant Moreau, which flavor of gelato did you pair with your trusty scotch last night?”
At her pained gasp, confirming he’d only ramped up the strain between them, Jax doubled down. Pointing at the bagels and fruit in the center of the table, he said, “No need to respond, Sergeant. If anyone knows your egregious eating habits, it’s the three of us. But given that this is likely the last chance any of us will have to eat today, I suggest you and your partner imbibe.”
Not waiting for Viviana to respond, Jax put one of the bagels on a plate next to a colorful array of fruit and placed it in front of her. Nodding to O’Reilly, who was standing back, a slight flush on his cheeks confirming that he was reeling from Jax’s reprimand, he said, “I presume I don’t have to encourage you to eat, Mick. And while you’re at it, how about getting a cup of java from the counter for you and your partner?”
When Mick returned with two steaming mugs of aromatic coffee, put one in front of Viviana, then took the chair next to Greg and began filling his plate, Jax resumed his seat.
“All right, lady and gentlemen, let’s get to work. I just got a message from Serge indicating that he and the DC team got pulled away and won’t be able to talk now. Given that we need to get our asses in gear, I’ll summarize the info they gave us earlier. To put it succinctly, the shit has hit the fan. While we think we have a burgeoning gang war erupting in our modest burg, the signs are clear that the big boys—to be specific, the El Blanco cartel—are fanning the flames. From what the Feds are hearing, El Blanco has chosen sides, exemplified by the murder of Raphael Torres and two of his top men. Our most immediate challenge is to contain the Diablos’ response to the murder of their leader while we figure out how the Padrones are connected to El Blanco.”
Jax turned to Viviana, who was pointedly staring at the table, her food untouched. “After the two of you have finished eating, we’ll divide into teams. Mick, I want you and Greg to partner today. I need you to interrogate as many of the low-hanging fruit in both gangs as you can haul in. Knowing how hard it’s going to be to get so much as their mother’s name from any of their leaders, the wannabes might unknowingly give away gold. And if anyone knows how to mine gold, it’s you, Mick. Just unleash all that Irish malarkey of yours that even the gangbangers can’t resist. Greg can fill you in on the shit we learned from Serge and the others. Meanwhile, Viviana and I are going to meet with Carlos Mendes. According to his docs, Carlos is coming in and out of consciousness because of the drugs they have him on but can still be interviewed. Once we get what we need from Mendes—which is a promise to hold back his goons—the Enchantress and I are going for the big prize: a conversation with Manuel Ortiz.”
Apparently forgetting his rupture with Jax, Mick whistled appreciatively. “I admire your stones, boss man, but how the hell are you going to do that? Ortiz has to be protected up the ass with a battalion of Padrones. It’s fuckin’ unlikely he is receiving visitors today, even ones as compelling as the indomitable SJPD chief of police.”
Jax shrugged. “Don’t forget, Detective, that as indomitable as I am, which is saying something, I have a surefire door opener.” He nodded at Viviana, who was frowning at him, and said with a narrow smile, “That being none other than your alluring partner, the unparalleled Sergeant Moreau.”
Viviana spoke for the first time since she had arrived. Jax didn’t miss the edge in her voice or the determination lighting her azure-tinged eyes. “I disagree with your assignments, Chief Hughes, for several reasons. First, Mick and I are partners and accustomed to working together. Second, I would think since you are the big bad police chief, you will have dozens of important people seeking you out. Finally, as you are aware, when meeting with honchos like Mendes and certainly Manuel Ortiz, I prefer to work alone.”
Jax gazed at her through narrowed eyes and allowed a fleeting smile to quirk his lips. He kept his voice cool, pleasant. “Those are all useful considerations, Sergeant, and perhaps on another day I will consider them. As for today, my assignments stand as stated.” Ignoring Viviana’s frown and flashing eyes, he turned to Greg. “Knowing that Sergeant Moreau and I will likely be in high-level conversations that we can’t interrupt, I’ve asked Serge to contact you when they get more on the El Blanco connection. As for Sergeant Moreau’s concern about leadership for the rest of the squad, that’s why we call you Commander Bannon.” He added with an adroit smile, “Command away, Lieutenant.”
Viviana stood back as Jax moved to the door with Greg and Mick. She didn’t know which was more infuriating, Jax’s arrogant directive separating her and Mick or pairing her with him. She knew what he was doing. He thought that by partnering with her, he could control her. Remembering the way he’d shunted her off to Mick last night when she would have given anything to be in his arms, she was determined to stand up to him. To not let him push her around like this or presume he was in charge of her. When Jax closed the door behind Greg and Mick and turned to face her, she struck.
“This isn’t going to work, Jax, and if you weren’t such an arrogant asshole, you’d admit it. I work better with Mick as a backup or best, by myself. I was able to meet with both Raphael Torres and Manuel Ortiz without help from you or anyone else. The least you can do is acknowledge that, as you said, I’m more strategic than ninety-nine point nine percent of all cops, and let me do what I do best.”
Jax pursed his lips together with a thoughtful frown and then said with a slight smile, “Ah yes, I did say that. However I believe I qualified that statement, indicating the only person more strategic is me.”
When she clenched her hands in tight fists at her sides and prepared to respond, Jax held up his hand, stopping her angry words. “That’s enough, Viviana. We are in the middle of a fucking gang war with the likely involvement of one of the most dangerous cartels in the hemisphere. No one, most especially you, is flying solo on this mission. Accept that or don’t. Just know that you and I are going to be interrogating badasses as dangerous as we are likely to meet. Also know that the man standing beside you isn’t going to let you out of his sight.”