Hot Ride

by Kelly Jamieson

  “Forever?”

  She hitched a shoulder. “I haven’t thought about forever.”

  “I know you can do anything on your own,” he told her seriously, smoothing a hand over the curve of her shoulder. “Anything. But…you don’t have to, Sera.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Oh Ryan.”

  She pressed her face against his throat, snuggled her body in against him. They stayed that way for a long time, and when he moved against her and made love to her again, it was slow and gentle.

  Their eyes met and held as he pushed inside her, a connection between them that was more than just physical, more than just his body inside her, more than his hands in her hair, her hands on his hips. It shimmered between them, surrounded them in heat and light as they drove each other to a peak of perfect pleasure—carefully, tenderly, respectfully, reverently.

  When they reached the pinnacle together, they both cried out at the exquisiteness of it, the sublime bliss of giving that to each other.

  “Sera,” he gasped, pulsing inside her. “I know you’re going in alone tomorrow, but know this…I love you. You’re not alone. Never alone.”

  Her eyes fastened on his, serious, aware, earnest, and she nodded her head.

  In the morning, they awoke in each other’s arms and shifted lazily together. Sera ran a foot up over his leg, and he skated his palm down the curve of her back and over her ass.

  She pressed her lips to his throat. “Hey. I forgot to ask yesterday. Have you found out anything about my dad?” She still wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to let him try to find her father.

  “Oh. Uh…no. Not yet.”

  His voice sounded funny and she pulled back to look at him. “You haven’t?”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you have.” She gazed at him. “What? Did you find out where he lives now? I’ll call him when we get back.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  She blinked. “Huh?”

  He licked his lips. Her body tensed.

  “What is it? Just tell me, for god’s sake. He’s in detox again? Drying out? In the slammer because they found him passed out on the street?”

  He shook his head and put his strong, warm hands on her shoulders. “He’s dead, Sera.”

  “What!” She stared at him, the breath sucked out of her. “He’s dead?”

  He nodded, brushing his thumbs over her collarbones. “I wasn’t going to tell you until after this.”

  “But…how? When?”

  Ryan closed his eyes. “The records show he died of a gunshot wound. An unsolved homicide. Fifteen years ago.”

  “I don’t understand.” She shoved away from him and sat up, her thoughts blurred and blustery. “That was before my mom told me he came back. She said she told him to go away and never come back.” Her forehead crinkled.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he said, sitting beside her and taking her hands in his. “I can’t explain it, Sera. He died a long time ago. Maybe you’re mixed up about the timing. Do you think your mother didn’t even know?”

  She shook her head, staring into space. “I don’t know.” She was sure of the timing. But why would her mother lie about that? Why had she told Sera she’d talked to him, told him not to come back, when she couldn’t have? Had she been trying to save face by pretending she was the one who’d sent him away, when she thought he’d abandoned them? It was kind of sad and pathetic, if that’s what had happened. But now she would never know.

  She’d been alone so long. The whisper of hope that had insinuated itself inside her, that she could have family—a father—had been so faint she hadn’t even really known it was there. He’d always been there, a nebulous, distant figure, someone she didn’t even want in her life. But in the far outer reaches of her consciousness, he was there.

  And now he wasn’t.

  She took a breath and lifted her head. “Are you sure?”

  Ryan gave her a slow nod of his head. “I’m sure.”

  She sat up. Hollow and empty inside, she wrapped her arms around her middle, tried to control her quivering throat and stinging eyes.

  She’d been crazy to think she could have anyone in her life. The emotions she’d experienced last night, the way she’d opened herself up to him, left herself vulnerable, let him dominate her—that had big mistake written all over it in capital letters.

  She nodded and swallowed hard. She shook her hair back, drew in a breath, then threw back the covers and bounced out of bed. “Okay then. I guess that settles that. Let’s get going. We have a big day ahead of us.”

  “Sera. Wait.” He reached for her arm. “Are you mad at me for telling you that?”

  She stared at him. “Of course not,” she said stiffly. “It’s not your fault.”

  She pulled loose from his grasp and walked over to her suitcase, pulling out what she planned to wear that day. When she turned, Ryan stood right there behind her, naked and radiating heat…and anger.

  “Then what’s wrong?” he demanded.

  “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Oh Jesus, don’t go getting all mysterious female on me.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Last night—Sera.” He stopped. “I love you.”

  She froze, paralyzed into icy immobility like a stone sculpture. Her breath stuck in her throat and her heart tightened.

  “No, you don’t.” She gave him a wry smile, put some distance between them, clutching her clothes. “Last night we got all wound up about what was going to happen today, and we had really hot sex. I know I felt it pretty intense, but it’s not love, Ryan. Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t fall in love with each other. That would be a huge mistake. We need to get our job done, and then—” She fought to keep her voice steady and light. “And then this case will be over. You’ll go back to your life and I’ll go back to mine.”

  He stared at her, eyes blazing, mouth hard. And she turned and walked into the bathroom with her clothes. With the closed door between them, she paused for a moment, head bowed, leaning against the tile wall, dragging gulps of air into her tight lungs through an aching throat. Then she stepped into the shower and let the tears flow, turning her face up, the spray of water washing them away fast enough that she could pretend they didn’t exist.

  She had to get a grip. She needed to be ready for whatever was going to happen that afternoon. There was no room for messy feelings, about Ryan or about her father. She had to steel her heart against the ache that throbbed in it with every beat, and push away the pain that had shafted through her at seeing the expression on Ryan’s face moments ago.

  Automatically she shampooed her hair, blew it dry with the hotel blow dryer, applied the usual dark eye makeup that had become like a uniform to her. Then she dressed in tight, black, skinny jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved T-shirt with a rock band logo on it.

  She emerged from the bathroom and found Ryan sitting at a laptop computer on the small table in the corner, dressed in his boxers and nothing else. It took every ounce of determination she had to not be distracted by the sight of his nearly naked, muscular body. He glanced up at her, eyes somber, then rose from his chair.

  “Have a look,” he said. “Carlos emailed me the op plan, final version.”

  He disappeared into the bathroom and she sank down into the chair, warm from his body, and focused on the computer screen. This was it.

  She was going in. Alone. And that was the way she wanted it.

  Carrying that much cash around made Ryan and Sera an easy target. A surveillance team was at the bar before them, with a detailed description of Dominick Casas, there to check the place out for anyone who could be a threat. There was always the possibility they’d been set up.

  When Sera followed Ryan into the restaurant, they carefully didn’t look for the men, but Sera peripherally spotted two of them at the bar, nursing drinks. She surveyed the room herself, the black leather seats of the booths, the light maple wood of the tables and chairs, bronze lamps that weren’t needed with the sun str
eaming in the big front windows. Every nerve ending quivered with tension. She was carrying a hundred thousand dollars. People had been killed for less. Much less. She needed to be hyperaware of any potential threat.

  Sera and Ryan took a seat at a table in the back corner of the room, in sight of the surveillance team but not right out in the open.

  “Okay?” Ryan murmured. She glanced at him, hardened herself not to melt at the warm reassurance in his eyes.

  “Yeah. Fine.” Sure she was fine, she was a frickin’ basket case of nerves. But she could do this.

  They ordered a beer and sat there waiting. Only a minute after two o’clock, Casas strolled into the bar followed, to their surprise, by Zocco.

  “Hey, Zee!” Ryan greeted him, as if happy to see a familiar face. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Dominick wanted me to be in on this,” he said, a proud smile stretching his face.

  “Have a seat.” Ryan nodded to two chairs at the table and Casas and Zocco sat down. A waitress appeared and they ordered beers. Out of the corner of her eye, Sera noticed the two agents who had followed Casas and Zocco into the bar sit down at another table.

  “You got the money?” Dominick said as soon as the waitress had left. He seemed tense and Sera didn’t like that. She lifted the leather saddlebag she carried. “In here.”

  “I need to see it.”

  “Of course.” Mid afternoon and the bar was mostly empty, a few tables up front occupied, so when she opened the bag on the floor and showed him what it contained, there was no worry about anyone else seeing it.

  Dominick nodded. She could tell he was impressed, even though he was trying to hide it. “Good,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair, both hands on his beer bottle. “We can do the deal tonight.”

  “The lab?” Ryan murmured.

  “Yeah, you’ll see the lab tonight. You’ll get a tour before we do our deal. Just bring the money and we’ll take you there and give you the drugs.” He looked at Ryan. “You’re coming?”

  Ryan shook his head with a small smile. “Nah. Sara’s going to go. This is her business.”

  Dominick’s eyes widened but he just nodded again. “Okay.” He thought a moment. “Okay.”

  He probably was relieved about that. Sera knew they were likely more relaxed if it was her doing it, less chance she was going to double-cross them, less chance she was a cop. Also, less able to defend herself should they decide to double cross her.

  And yet, the fact that Zocco was there felt reassuring to her. He was a criminal, responsible for who knew how many deaths from these drugs, but his code of loyalty to fellow gang members made her feel like there was less chance they were going to rob her of the cash and run.

  Because as far as he knew, they were all going back to Clover City tomorrow.

  Unless he knew they weren’t. There was always that possibility. Tension tightened her muscles and she forced herself to breathe calmly.

  Keep going. Play it out.

  She drank some of her beer, even though she didn’t want it. The bitterness stung her tongue.

  “So, let’s meet here again,” Dominick said. “Eight o’clock. We’ll take Sara to the lab, do the deal and bring her back here. You can wait here.” He jerked his head at Ryan.

  Ryan nodded, even though Sera and he both knew he had no intention of waiting at the bar.

  “Sounds good,” he said. He looked around the restaurant idly, then back at Sera. “Want something to eat, babe?”

  “Maybe.” She picked up the menu as if she could possibly be hungry—not!—and looked it over.

  “We gotta go,” Dominick said, draining his beer and smacking it down on the table. “Come on, Zee.”

  Dominick tossed a bill on the table. “Later. Eight o’clock.”

  “You bet.”

  Sera watched them leave out of the corner of her eye then snapped the menu closed. “I can’t eat,” she said. Nerves danced a quick step in her stomach.

  “Me either.”

  Two of the agents followed Casas and Zocco out of the bar and would tail them to wherever they were going next. The other two agents remained in the bar with Sera and Ryan.

  “Eight o’clock,” she huffed out, adrenaline and impatience mingling inside her, making her skin itch and her muscles twitch. “What are we going to do until then?”

  “Review the plan.”

  “We’ve gone over it a hundred times.”

  “Now Zocco’s here.”

  “I know.” She sighed, met his eyes. “We didn’t plan for that.”

  “I don’t know what it means.”

  “Me either.”

  “Let’s go talk to Carlos about it. We have to get everything in place for tonight.”

  They met the eyes of one of the agents sitting at the bar who gave them a short nod. He was wearing a wire so he knew it was now safe for them to leave, that Casas and Zocco had driven away, tailed by government agents.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Eight o’clock, same place. Once again a surveillance team was already in the restaurant, now crowded with diners. Another team sat outside in a vehicle, waiting. Sera and Ryan found a seat at the bar since every table was full. The small restaurant hummed with chatter and cutlery clinking, the occasional burst of laughter, smooth jazz music tinkling in the background. Not exactly the DAs usual type of place.

  Ryan studied Sera surreptitiously. He hoped she was okay. He’d felt her nerves earlier and tried to send her waves of calm. He longed to hold her hand, touch her and ease her edginess but had a feeling she would not welcome that.

  His gut cramped with worry about her and how she was going to do tonight, on top of being sick with the realization that he’d confessed his feelings to her and she’d stomped all over them.

  He was a fucking mess of anxiety, love and fear, and he had to get a grip.

  When Dominick and Zocco walked into the bar yet again, once more trailed by two agents, he nodded to Sera. He’d tried to argue for her going in with a .38 caliber strapped to her ankle but he’d lost that battle. If they checked her and she was carrying, they’d be done. Same for wearing a wire. She had her phone recording everything, as usual, but the only thing keeping him from losing her was the GPS in her phone and the tiny GPS tracking device planted into her watch just in case she lost the phone somehow. He tried to swallow the fear inside him.

  “Ready?” Dominick stopped in front of them.

  Sera smiled at him, and stood up, still holding the saddlebag full of money that she hadn’t let go of since they’d walked in. The crowded restaurant increased the possibility that something could go wrong, that they could have been set up.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Ryan made to move too, but Zocco put a hand on his shoulder. “You and me are staying here, remember?”

  Ryan gave him a hard look. Shit. Zocco was staying with him? That totally screwed up the plan.

  He kept his face impassive. Fuck! Now he had to rely on Carlos’s team to follow her, to keep her safe. Jesus Christ!

  He was experienced enough to know that criminals often changed the plans at the last minute just in case…surely to god they weren’t suspicious of him and Sera? But they couldn’t be too complacent that just because of their close association with the DAs over the last months that they were trusted.

  His stomach rolled over, but he nodded tightly. “Yeah. Sure.” He sank down onto the bar stool, and watched grimly as Sera started to follow Casas out of the bar. “Sara. Wait.”

  She turned and he rose and went over to her. They were still supposed to be a couple. It wasn’t that unreasonable that he’d kiss her. He hugged her to him, whispered in her ear, “I’m with you, angel. Got that? You’re not alone. And be careful.”

  She smiled at him and nodded, oh so casual, and it made him grit his teeth.

  He returned to the bar stool and sat next to Zocco, who occupied Sera’s seat.

  There was no goddamn w
ay he could sit there for the next couple of hours and just wait for her. He had to get rid of Zocco, or convince him to come with him or something. Something. But what?

  Sera followed Dominick out of the bar, resisting the urge to clutch the bag of money to her chest. She maintained her hypervigilance, her nerves like live wires, knowing it was still possible Dominick had set her up.

  Jack London Square was a popular area and many people strolled through the stone-paved streets in the warm evening. She flicked her gaze around constantly, watching for anything unusual, hoping the surveillance agents were tailing them but knowing she couldn’t turn around to check.

  Dominick led her to a van, where another man waited, leaning against it. On the far side of the vehicle, away from crowds, Dominick nodded to the other fellow. “Blindfold her,” he instructed him.

  She’d been expecting that, but it was still unpleasant to have her vision obliterated. They tied the scarf around her face tightly and helped her into the van. All the while she kept hold of the bag.

  They’d better be following her.

  She had no clue where they went, felt the van turn, slow, accelerate, go up a hill, then race down. They apparently pulled onto a freeway because they picked up speed and maintained it for about ten minutes. There was no conversation in the van as they drove.

  When they finally slowed, made a couple more turns, and then parked, she assumed they’d arrived. She hated not knowing where she was. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

  She wished Ryan was there.

  No. God, no, that was senseless. She’d begged him to let her do this, and she could do it. Alone. Like she did everything.

  She let them lead her inside a building. The smell was unusual—a chemical sort of smell not unlike nail polish remover. Then they removed the blindfold.

  She shook her hair back and blinked, looked around.

  “Wow,” she said, trying to sound impressed. They stood in a small warehouse type of building, bare brick walls and exposed rafters. Stains and gouges scarred the linoleum floor. A man sat at a counter, another stood at an ancient stove. Equipment, some of it looking like pressure cookers, lined the counter along with bottles of different sizes and shapes and with various contents—most of them unlabeled. She blinked again as she followed Dominick farther into the warehouse.