Justice
The skin around Justice’s knuckles stung as Coy roughly cleaned the cuts with alcohol. “If you keep punching shit in this van every time someone looks at or touches Ana, all your money is going to go right down the fucking drain.”
“You think I give a shit about anything in this van? I’ll tear it all to pieces if it means I can keep her safe.” Unable to sit still, Justice stood to pace the small space inside the surveillance van.
Chucking the bloody alcohol wipes into the trash, Coy turned back to the monitors where the camera feeds from both inside and outside the bar were set up. “Well, unfortunately for you, no amount of property damage on your own damn property is going to make a bit of difference when it comes to that woman’s safety. So calm the fuck down, and let your woman do her job.”
It had taken a good chunk of change, but Justice had managed to acquire a top-of-the-line micro camera, a high-def telescope lens and camera, and parabolic microphones, along with a ton of other equipment needed to make all those things work together. He even purchased a rusted-out, old ice cream truck, which they had gutted and retrofitted with everything they needed for an undercover investigation. Should something go wrong, half a dozen patrol cars were less than thirty seconds away, ready to swoop in and save the day.
But nothing would go wrong. Justice wouldn’t allow for Ana to be put in any sort of danger.
“You don’t know what it’s like to have the woman who occupies your every thought be this stubborn and set in her ways.” As soon as the words left Justice’s lips, Coy barked out a laugh.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You realize you are talking to the guy who set up a speed trap outside a woman’s house every day for six months in the hopes of getting one date, right?” Coy turned his head over his shoulder, giving Justice a withering stare. “The same guy whose wife still refuses to let him pay for anything because she doesn’t want to be a burden, but is really just too afraid to depend on anyone? Yeah, I have no clue about stubborn women.”
Justice nodded his acknowledgment that maybe Coy did know something about his current situation. They both fell silent as Ana launched into her pitch to Shady about bringing in a couple of fights a month featuring all female fighters. If Shady bought it, they could relax a little. Ana would settle in and begin working her magic on getting his lips to loosen and talk about the town’s drug problem. If he outright rejected her proposal, they were up shit creek with nothing to show for it.
“You want me to have a bunch of chicks rolling around in Jell-O before my fights?” Shady’s nasal voice grated on Justice’s last nerve, and he had to clench his fists tight against his legs to keep from punching something else in the van. “I have a reputation to protect. I’d be the laughing stock.”
“No Jell-O involved in these fights. These girls are just as brutal as your fighters. More so, even. Not only do they fight just as hard as any man, but they do it in what can laughingly be called a bikini. Every ticket we’ve been on sees not only a boost in the entrance fees paid but also drinks and any extras your audiences might like to indulge in.” Ana paused, letting her words sink in as she toyed with the few baby-fine hairs that rested at the nape of Shady’s neck.
Justice knew it was all part of the act, but seeing even that slight touch made his blood boil as his need to claim Ana grew stronger than ever. It didn’t help that he’d been spending the last few weeks curled up with her every night, with no release. At least not the kind he wanted; his own hand didn’t count. But he wouldn’t pressure her into going deeper into whatever was between them before she was ready. They had met and had sex, both believing they’d never see the other person again. She needed time to accept that now that Justice knew who and where she was, she wouldn’t be shaking him so easily again.
Shady’s nasal voice cut through Justice’s thoughts, bringing him back to the task at hand. “Interesting. I could use something to draw in some bigger crowds. I’ve had a bit of drop-off lately thanks to recent events.”
“Trouble in the neighborhood?” Ana’s voice held no hint of ulterior motives, and once again, Justice couldn’t help but be impressed with her composure.
Even still, Shady’s eyes held a hint of something that set Justice’s teeth on edge. The whole thing felt off. But when he voiced the concern to Coy, he brushed it away.
“Nah, man, your girl is doing awesome.” He leaned back in the chair, never taking his eyes off the video feed. “Shady’s eating it up.”
Justice had met Shady only once, during a call for a bar brawl that a neighbor called in. By the time the units arrived, Shady had everything neatly cleaned up and no sign of anything untoward ever having occurred. So Justice couldn’t be sure if the tightness in his voice as he continued speaking with Ana was normal for him, or normal only while he was lying his ass off.
“Haven’t you heard about the drug problem around here? Getting real bad. Shit blowing up. People getting beat up. Hell, people getting killed.” Shady took a sip of whatever was in the glass in front of him, keeping his beady little eyes trained on Ana. “Gotta be careful around here these days.”
Ana tensed, as did Coy. Justice couldn’t get any more tense, but the pounding of his heart and the tightness in his lungs increased until it was all he could do to not rip the doors off the van and sprint the mile between them and the bar.
“Sounds like a real problem you have on your hands.” The easy, flirting tone had left Ana’s voice, a cold monotone left behind.
“Not on my hands. My hands go nowhere near that shit.” Shady leaned a little closer to Ana, getting right up in her face. To her credit, she didn’t back down an inch.
“We have to go in and get her.” The desperation in his own voice had Justice cringing. He needed to get her out of there, away from Shady and whatever the hell he was playing at.
Coy ignored him, his focus remaining completely on the conversation happening just down the road.
“But people in this town seem to think I have my hands in everything. They like to tell me shit I don’t care about. Like to question me about shit too.” Shady sat so close to Ana the camera picked up only his chin and neck, everything else out of its limited view.
Justice imagined she could smell whatever drink he’d been sipping on his breath. That she could see the pores filled with the filth from the bar. He didn’t like the thought of them being that close. He gripped his fingers on the back of Coy’s chair, the plastic groaning under his grip.
The storm in Shady’s eyes turned on a dime, changing to amusement as he barked out a laugh right in Ana’s face. “Truth is, I know everything that happens in this town. I listen to every single thing a person tells me, offhanded information about how the rookie down the station has a hard-on for the new detective. Information I pay well for, including why the town council didn’t want to pay for a detective, so the police department had to get one on loan from the big city. And especially when big shipments of specialty equipment are delivered to that same police department.”
Justice moved for the back door to the van, no longer able to take hearing Shady’s thinly veiled threats.
Coy grabbed the back of his flak jacket before he could even get his hand on the door handle. “Let it play out, man. Trust Ana to do her job. You go in there now, she’ll never let you forget it.”
Justice reeled around, grabbing Coy by the throat in a firm grip, without cutting off his airway. “At least she’ll be unharmed. I’ll take whatever fallout as long as he doesn’t get to touch a single damn cell on her body.” He backed away slightly, taking his hand away and letting it fall to his side. “Are you going to tell me if that was Lexis in there you wouldn’t already have your fist shoved so far down that scumbag’s throat he’d be tasting your deodorant for weeks?”
Before Coy could respond, Ana’s voice rang through the van. The intense anger and authority in that voice made Justice stop and look at the screen. “Well then, I guess I get to drop the crap, don’t I?” On the screen, Shady’s face pinched in pain, but they couldn’t see what could have caused him discomfort. “Honestly, it is a relief not having to play at being even a little bit interested in someone like you. For business or otherwise. If you know so much about this town, how about you just tell me what I need to know about where Richard Artiga is hiding, and then we can go on like this never happened.”
“Such a pretty woman as you should really find a different career path. You’ll find the type of guys we’re talking about find extra amusement in hurting women like you.” Shady shook his head, leaned back, and chuckled a little before wincing in pain again. “I’m not telling you shit. I value my life and health more than anything else in this town. Hell, in this world. Do your own damn police work. Tell Luke to sit his ass down at that bar he likes so much on Fifth Street and stay out of mine.”
A loud burst made the sensitive microphone in the surveillance equipment crackle and whine in protest. Shady’s eyes widened in fear for an instant before Ana’s body turned away from him, coming to a stand and overturning the table all in one move.
The camera jostled and went black, the audio going completely dead. But just before everything went to hell, one word burst through in Ana’s calm voice, the word Justice had given her as their code if she needed help. She swore up and down they wouldn’t need it. That this whole operation was nothing but a cakewalk for her. That one word struck fear like Justice had never known into his soul. Because his soul was in that shitty bar, in danger. Fearing for her life enough to ask for help when he knew she hated nothing more than that.
“Betty.”
The name of his bike. Where they shared their very first kiss. Acting on pure adrenaline, he sprinted from the van, down the pothole-strewn road toward Shady’s Bar. Justice had never in his life tried to run a four-minute mile. It wasn’t an accomplishment he ever strived for. His runs usually wound up in the five- to six-minute range. But at that moment, he thought he would be able to make the mile to Ana in under three. Every second stretched on for an eternity. His lungs burned with the effort, but he ignored the pain, thinking only of getting to the woman who had turned his life upside down.
Sirens wailed behind him as the bar came into view. The front of the building appeared as normal. Without pausing to look around, Justice sprinted around the corner, making it to the rear door before the backup even put their squad cars into park out front. A hulking figure guarded the rear door, gun in hand and black ski mask covering his face. The guy never had a chance to even raise the firearm above belt level before Justice had him flat on his back, unconscious from a well-placed punch to the jaw that sent his head snapping back.
Justice pulled his own gun from his holster at the same time he ripped open the cracked and worn door to the bar. Time suspended and yet his heart raced. Only one thought cycled through his mind. Get Ana, get Ana, get Ana. Nothing would satisfy him until she was in his arms, everyone who had dared touch her dead on the floor.
The rear door led into the kitchen, the smell of old grease and half-spoiled food heavy in the air. A gunshot rang out from the main dining room. In three quick strides, Justice pushed open the swinging door separating the kitchen from the back of the bar. With one sweep of his eyes around the place, Justice took in everything he needed to know. One table, the one known to be Shady’s preferred spot in his bar, sat on its side, Ana and Shady huddled behind it. One man lay on the floor by the front entrance, blood pooling beneath him, though his chest still rose and fell with each labored breath. Another man stood half hidden behind the cracked and broken jukebox, his back to Justice.
Justice didn’t have to think about what he would do next. Pointing his Glock at the man’s right shoulder, he squeezed the trigger, hitting him where he knew not much damage would be done. The perp dropped the gun and screamed in agony. Ignoring his pain, Justice stepped out from behind the bar, pointed his gun at the guy’s left knee, and fired. The asshole crumpled onto the floor screaming and cursing.
Ana stood from behind the table that had sheltered them, not even a finger shaking, the picture of calm and collected. Just the opposite, Justice’s entire body shook with relief.
She was okay.
After kicking the guns out of reach from both men bleeding on the floor, Justice strode over to the only woman to ever occupy his heart. Cupping her face, he scanned it, cataloging the small scratch on one cheek, probably from the broken glass on the floor. He slid his hands down her neck to her shoulders and arms, searching for injuries, a lump firmly lodged in his throat the whole time.
“Justice, look at me. I’m fine. I swear I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m fine.”
The words barely penetrated his fear-addled brain. His hands continued drifting over her body, checking for wounds or any sign of a mark that he would need to pay back tenfold onto the men who touched her.
Taking a deep breath, Justice pressed his forehead against Ana’s. The warmth radiated off her, comforting him in the knowledge that she was unharmed. “I knew something was off. I wanted to pull you out of there, but Coy stopped me. I should have trampled his ass to get to you.”
Ana laughed. “Justice, you are an amazing, overbearing, beautiful man. Coy was right. I was fine the whole time.”
Behind them the bar flooded with police, Coy and McCracken leading the way. Shady started to stand, but one sharp look from Ana sent him slinking back to the floor, both his hands in the air. Paramedics carted the wounded men out. Others were questioned. Through it all, Justice refused to take his eyes off Ana.
“Well, that was just about worthless. We’ve got three of Artiga’s men in custody. Two in surgery. One refusing to talk. Shady isn’t saying a damn thing either.” The frustration oozed not only from Luke’s tired voice but from his entire being.
“I’m not so sure.” Justice released some of the tension he’d been holding. He turned to look at Luke, Coy, and the three officers lined up behind them. “Before Artiga’s men came in, Shady said to tell you to stay at the bar on Fifth Street. The Blue Line is on Spruce. He knows that. Why would he purposely get the address wrong?”
“You think he was trying to tell us something? I thought it was just a slip of the tongue.” Coy squinted, searching his mind for something that seemed to evade his grasp. “The only bar on Fifth Street was Vesuvius. It was more cheesy nightclub than bar though. It closed down a few months ago.”
“Do you think Shady was giving us a hint? Telling us to look there?” The doubt written across Luke’s face cleared the more he silently thought it over. “If it was, this little incident scared him enough that he isn’t going to be helping us anymore. Not even in code.”
“I’m not so sure.” Ana leaned against the bar, surveying the damage around them. “I saved his life tonight. If I hadn’t pulled him behind the table and grabbed the gun he had taped under there, he’d have been dead in the first thirty seconds. I think he’ll talk to me.”
Justice loathed giving Shady another opportunity to be near Ana. But he knew better than to voice his concerns.
“Well, let’s give him a night in lockup first to help loosen things up. Ana, Justice, you two head home for the night.” Luke nodded at the other officers as they scattered around. “We’ll finish up here, and tomorrow we’ll regroup.”
No one had to tell Justice twice. Without letting Ana get another word out, Justice grabbed her hand and spun on his heel, leading her outside to the fancy little sports car they’d borrowed for the mission. Every part of him vibrated as he deposited her into the passenger side, pretending to ignore her eye-roll at his possessive move.
But he noticed. And he’d make sure she knew he had once they got back to his place.