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 police 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 you 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.”
Before Viviana could respond, a deep voice from the doorway intoned, “That’s a given, Commander Bannon. And when Sergeant Moreau begins to capture the information as only she can do, I’ll schedule a team-wide meeting so she can update us all.”
Viviana frowned, knowing that Jax was purposefully making his point that going forward, she would be reporting to the team as a whole. Glancing up to see him coming toward her, it was hard to maintain her annoyance. After all, a movie star–handsome man with gleaming emerald eyes that sparkled with salacious innuendo was hard to dismiss—or stay angry with. Even if she’d considered it, the impulse died when he reached for her chin, raised her face to him, and planted a proprietary kiss on her lips.
Grinning at what she was sure was the flush on her face, Jax glanced at Bannon and Mick. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I needed to see if this wayward sergeant of mine is up for ‘bash duty.’ As much as the bristly sergeant despises hobnobbing with the hoi polloi, I may have an invitation she can’t resist.” To the group as a whole, he added, “Actually, this is an invitation for all three of you. Mayor Simpson and Commissioner McElroy have ‘encouraged’ me to attend an event presenting Enrique Vega, the upstart guy who’s running for governor. Suffice to say, he is the shiniest of shiny new things, and the press is going wild over him.”
Pulling Viviana out of her chair, he grinned at her. “How about it, Sergeant? You up for putting on one of your knock ’em dead outfits and going to a bash celebrating a guy who’s almost as good-looking as I am?”
Viviana couldn’t hold back a smile. Nor could she keep from tweaking him. “Now, that is quite a concession, Chief Hughes. I didn’t think you thought a mere politician could be in the same winner’s circle as you. Tell me this, Jax, is he as arrogant as you?”
Jax chuckled. “So I’m told. But if that means that you are up for an evening with the city’s elite, I have news for the upstart pol. Competing with me is one thing, but sharing the limelight with the Enchantress? Honey, that poor guy won’t know what hit him.”