by Brandy Ayers
Those thick lips of his she loved so much quirked up at the corners, but sadness still etched every inch of his face. “I’d prefer if you did not grow balls, but I get what you’re saying. Seeing that note this morning, in the same place you left your thank-you note . . . that just about killed me, Ana.”
A swirl of unfamiliar emotions sank to the bottom of her stomach, making her nauseous. “I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I just . . . fuck. Justice, I am starting to realize I am no good at this whole relationship thing. I don’t know how to be accountable to anyone other than the force. Every time I saw you lurking outside the interrogation rooms or shooting a glare at any man who talked to me, it felt like you didn’t believe in me, and being the stubborn idiot that I am, I dug in my heels. I wanted to prove that you were wrong. I went about it the wrong way. I should have just talked to you about your jackass behavior. I shouldn’t have hidden all this from you.”
Ana realized that in the midst of her apology, she also insulted him at least three times, and banged her head back against the roof of the car.
“I believe in you, Ana. Never doubt that. I thought I was being better, but obviously I was just doing a shitty job of trying to hide my need to watch over you.” Justice pushed away from the side of his car, planting his hands on either side of her shoulders. “I guess I thought once we admitted our feelings for each other and swore to give this thing a shot, it would all be puppies and rainbows. We’d have hot sex every night. Nothing would ever be hard between us, except my cock of course.”
Ana rolled her eyes but smiled as well. “Of course.”
“But it isn’t going to work like that. We’re both stubborn-ass people who are used to relying on only ourselves and not worrying about anyone else.” Justice tucked a stray corkscrew curl behind her ear, sending her heart fluttering as some of the pressure in her stomach eased. “We need to work at this. Talk to each other. Listen. And I need to remember that you survived ten years as a cop before I ever came into the picture.”
“And I need to remember that having someone care for and worry about me doesn’t make me weak. You make me stronger.” Ana reached up, wrapping her arms around Justice’s neck. The moment her skin touched his, everything warring inside her felt at peace once again. “We can do this. I know we can. We’ll figure it out.”
Not needing a verbal answer, Ana brought her lips to his, the slow glide of his tongue entering her mouth sending a thrill of desire burning deep inside her core.
“Get a room.” The voice of one of their colleagues echoed across the mostly empty parking lot.
Breaking apart, Justice glared across the parking lot. “Shut it, Wright.”
Ana buried her face in Justice’s neck, trying, and failing, to contain her laughter. “Maybe we should go home. Get a room.”
“Fuck yes. I’ve never had make-up sex before. I can’t wait to whisper all my words of apology directly to your pussy.”
***
Everything went fucking wrong with the planning of the Artiga takedown, which Ana took as a very good sign. The planning stage had gone like clockwork for the undercover mission at Shady’s, and that turned out to be a complete shitshow.
After days of the ATF and DEA being complete assholes, they finally arrived at go time. After a lot of arguing and a lot more make-up sex, Justice and Ana had agreed to be on separate operation teams during the takedown. It had taken a lot of convincing, but Justice finally seemed to accept that if they were on the same team, he would be thinking only about Ana and not the rest of the team or making sure they apprehended Artiga. She needed him one hundred percent focused on the job at hand.
The air at the Middleburg Police Station seemed thinner than normal, probably a result of everyone’s nerves taking up too much of the oxygen. The night before had been the first time since moving in together that she and Justice did not have sex. Without words, they both knew they needed to be rested, and since their lovemaking often went deep into the night, sometimes early morning, they had resisted. But they fell asleep in each other’s arms, each holding a little tighter to the other than they normally would. That morning they had said little to each other, preferring to take comfort in their simple presence rather than to force conversation.
But as they approached the back door, Justice pulled Ana into his arms, pressing their foreheads together. “We come back to each other. Always. Every time. Got it?”
“Got it.” For the first time in her life, Ana had something to fear for other than her own life. But she had to compartmentalize that fear. Otherwise, she would turn into the same growling mess of needy protection that Justice seemed to default to when it came to Ana.
Those words echoed in Ana’s subconscious through the briefing, through the ride to the staging area, as she strapped her Kevlar vest to her chest and double-checked her weapons.
At exactly 8:50, her team, South Team, loaded into a cargo van and set off for the southern-facing apartment building. No one spoke during the drive. Hell, some of the younger guys on the team barely breathed. Despite knowing they were there to take down only one man, everyone was all too aware of that one man’s reputation for preferring carnage over compromise. No one expected him to give up without a fight.
The van pulled up to the curb at 8:58. “South Team in place. Waiting for North Team’s signal.” Ana was relieved to find her voice strong and confident, exactly how she would have sounded if the love of her life wasn’t also at risk just down the block.
The radio at Ana’s shoulder crackled, Luke’s voice echoing in her ear. “North Team in place. On my mark.” Ana glanced around at the determined faces of her colleagues. No one showed any doubt. They knew their purpose and would carry it out. “Mark.”
Everyone moved in perfect synchronization. Two MPD officers swung open the rear doors to the van. The ATF agents exited first, followed by the DEA agents, then Ana and the rest of her team behind her. A battering ram was passed up the line, and with one hard swing, the ATF agents bashed in the heavy wood door of the apartment building.
Ana held her pistol down and away from her colleagues, the safety off, her finger resting just in front of the trigger. Letting the steady beat of her heart act as a metronome, she moved her feet in time with the deep thud, thud, thud. The first level of the building was a simple vestibule, mailboxes on one side, utility closets holding heating and cooling units on the other. It took the officers behind her no more than fifteen seconds to declare the area clear, and the agents led the way up the staircase to the second floor.
The building was run-down but not unlivable. Graffiti wallpapered every inch of available space, but the absence of must in the air let them know that mold had not crept in yet. The stairs creaked under the weight of highly armored men climbing them after years of unuse. The ATF agents stopped at the second-floor landing, their weapons pointed down the empty hallway. Two DEA agents skirted around them and made entry into the first apartment. Following them, Ana and Wright proceeded to the second apartment. Each room they cleared ramped up Ana’s growing anxiety. Where was he? No word from North Team meant they hadn’t found Artiga either. This wasn’t a large building. Two more floors and they’d clear it. Had they somehow missed him leaving town?
Once the four apartments on the second floor were cleared, the team regrouped on the landing, ready to proceed to the third floor.
A deep bellow filled the air, rattling the walls around them. Eight of the team members leveled their weapons, looking for the threat, but instead of Artiga, they found one of the ATF agents bent over halfway up the stairs, gripping his foot, blood streaming out between his fingers.
The agent behind him bent down, inspecting the stained carpet covering the stairs. “Spikes. There are huge spikes under the carpeting.”
“Get him out of here. If Artiga didn’t know we were here before, he does now.” Ana plastered herself against the wall, ready for the agent to make his way down.
Instead, he stood up, his face paler than
it had been downstairs. “Screw that. If this asshole thinks a nail through the foot is going to stop me, he’s crazier than we thought.”
Peering up the wide staircase, Ana evaluated their path. Upon closer inspection, she could see the metal spikes peeking out through the carpet fibers. But a path had been worn directly in the middle of the stairs, where Artiga would have been stepping. It made sense. Law enforcement was trained to stick close to walls, while not touching them. Walking up the center of the stairs would go against their every instinct.
“Okay, stick to the middle of the stairs. You can see how the carpet is worn directly down the middle.” Ana glanced at the men behind and in front of her until she saw everyone acknowledge her instructions. Before they continued their ascent, she clicked the radio on her shoulder open. “North Team, be advised there are booby traps. We just encountered spikes on the stairs.”
“Ten-four, South Team. We found the same.”
With one stiff nod from Ana, the team continued to the third floor. The four apartments there produced nothing but dusty, vacant rooms. The frustration became palpable in the air around them.
One more floor.
Ana became aware of every sound around her. The shuffle of heavy boots against carpet. The heavy breaths of the officers and agents around her. The hum of traffic blocks away, past the barricades that would now be set up. The creak of the floor above them as someone ran from one side of a room to the other.
Ana’s eyes flared, signaling the agents at the front of the line to advance. Two steps, and chaos erupted around them.
An explosion rocked the foundation of the building. Ana stumbled to the side, more out of surprise than the force of the blast. Pain lanced through her hand and arm as she tried to recover her balance, mistakenly grabbing onto the stair above her and getting a nail through her palm for her efforts. She hissed, pulling the blood-soaked appendage in close to her chest.
“Everyone okay?” Swinging her head wildly, she saw that everyone in her team was still on their feet and more or else intact. For a moment, her confused mind couldn’t figure out where the explosion had come from. There was no dust or debris in the stairwell.
Behind her, Wright whispered, “It was the north building. The explosion was in the north building.”
Ana fumbled for the radio, precious seconds wasted while she tried to make her shaking hands cooperate. “North Team, report. What is your status?” In her head, she wanted to scream for Justice. Find out if he was okay. Beg to hear his voice, if only to confirm he would follow through on his promise to come home to her.
“Officer down. I repeat, officer down.” Sounding more panicked then Ana had ever heard before, Luke radioed dispatch for an ambulance. “North Team, be advised there was a trip wire at the top of the stairs.”
Above them glass shattered, followed by a thump.
“Abort mission.” Luke’s final command echoed in the hallway.
Ana’s heart and brain went in opposite directions. Her heart wanted to say “Screw the mission and run to the street.” Find Justice. Touch him. Her brain wanted to ignore Luke’s command and proceed upstairs.
All eyes swung to her for instructions. Without hesitation, she started barking out orders. “Wright, take everyone behind you, and make your way to the street. Help cover all fire exits.” Wright and three officers turned and bound down the stairs they had just painstakingly climbed.
“The rest of you, leave with them now if you don’t want to go farther. But I’m not letting this asshole get away.”
Every single agent in front of her turned and ran up the stairs, pausing at the landing to ensure they avoided the trip wire hiding there. The ATF agents took their positions on either side of the hallway. No longer breaking up between apartments, Ana and the two DEA agents headed straight for the unit they had heard the noises coming from. Unlike the lower levels, the fourth floor held only single-room studio apartments. One sweep of her eyes, and Ana saw it stood empty.
The window on the south wall had been shattered, and glass shards sat scattered around the windowsill and floor. One of the DEA agents peered out through the window, where Ana knew a fire escape would be. “No way he could have gone down here and past the barricades. Not even with the distraction tactic.”
“Agreed. He’s still in here. Tear it apart, but be careful. Look for more traps.” Systematically, every cabinet, closet, and piece of furniture was opened and overturned. After ten minutes, they had looked everywhere they could in the sparse space, but still no Artiga.
“Fuck. He has to be here.” She turned to the ATF agents. “Sweep the other units on this floor.”
Nodding, both men turned and exited through the door.
Ana ran through the last half hour in her head once again, replaying everything from the explosion to the time they entered the apartment. Something was off. “The thump. It was at least five feet away from the window.”
In unison, Ana and the remaining officers traced back over the area by the window, inspecting every bit of floor and wall space. A slight discoloration in the worn laminate floor drew her attention. As she bent to inspect it closer, a crack rang out beneath her. Ana tucked and rolled to the side, a bullet missing her by less than an inch, the skin of her neck tingling with the near miss.
Shot after shot rang out as Artiga aimed blindly through the floor. Three clicks signaled he was out. Ana rolled back to the now hole-riddled section of flooring. Pressing her finger into one of the holes, she pulled a four-by-four section of plywood up. Lying on his back, scrambling for something in his back pocket, was Richard Artiga.
Appearing more gaunt than in the photos Camille had given them, the criminal stared at Ana with wild eyes and released a blood-curdling screech through rotted teeth.
Pointing her gun directly at his head, Ana drove her foot down into his chest. The pathetic man coughed and wheezed as the breath whooshed out of him. One of the agents swooped in, prying the gun from Artiga’s hand.
“Richard Artiga, you are under arrest.” Ana had never been happier to say any words in her life.
She couldn’t say the same for the drug lord who had been evading them for months. He thrashed and yelled, struggling to get his feet under him.
“Screw this.” As soon as Artiga got into a semi seated position, Ana swung her leg around, driving the heel of her boot into his jaw. The scumbag slumped back into his hiding place, completely knocked out. “Get him out of there and cuff him. I’ll send the paramedics up once everyone else is looked after.”
Not bothering with the nail-riddled stairs, Ana raced to the window and stepped out on the fire escape. The only thing on her mind was finding Justice and wrapping him in her arms.
Chapter Twelve
Justice
“Get the fuck off me, or so help me, I am not afraid to punch my commanding officer in the face.” Justice got right in Luke’s face, quite the feat considering both Coy and Wright were pinning his arms to the side of an ambulance.
“Justice, get back on that gurney right now, or I will let these nice paramedics shoot you up with so many tranquilizers you won’t see Ana for days.” Eyes hard as steel, Luke didn’t even flinch when Justice bared his teeth and growled.
The panic he had felt at Shady’s was literally nothing compared to the sheer terror filling every muscle and tendon in his body.
As soon as Wright came running out from the south building, they had known Ana ignored Luke’s order to fall back. The stubborn woman was going to bring down Artiga, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.
A warm trickle of blood rolled down Justice’s face from the wound on the side of his head. The explosion had knocked him against a wall, knocking him momentarily unconscious from the force of the blast. The whole team had scrapes and cuts up and down their arms from the damn nails Artiga had planted on the stairs. Two of the ATF agents had already been raced to the hospital by EMS, both with severe injuries that Justice honestly didn’t know if they would wake
up from. In comparison, the rest of them had made out easy.
But Ana was still in there, and Justice refused to be a good boy and sit down until he saw hard evidence that she was unharmed.
Continuous gunshots rang out above them, cutting off the argument Justice had been forming. For a moment he stood slack-jawed, staring at the fourth floor of the building, unable to process that the gunfire was coming from the same place as the woman holding his heart.
Against his will, his head counted off each shot. Finally, after the fifteenth crack, silence settled on the scene. Every law enforcement officer, paramedic, and citizen stood stock-still. Seeing his opportunity, Justice ripped his arms out from Coy’s and Wright’s now slack grips, racing for the building. He stumbled as dizziness tried to overtake him but regained his footing and continued, only to be taken down three steps later by a tackle to the legs.
“Let me go! Ana, I need to get to Ana.” Normally he would be embarrassed as hell to have tears tracking down his face in front of his brothers-in-arms. But he couldn’t even muster up the slightest concern. Not while images of Ana shot and bleeding assaulted his mind.
“Hey, assholes, you want to stop wrestling and help out up here.” Metal on metal clanged at the side of the building as Ana descended the rusted fire escape, running as best she could on the rickety things.
Adrenaline surged through Justice’s body. In one swift movement, he planted his hands beneath him, ignoring the pain from the open wounds there, and pushed until whoever had brought him down rolled off his back. He sprinted to the fire escape, racing up one flight of the stairs and meeting Ana in the middle. They crashed together, and Justice buried his face into her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her arms circled his neck, her lips raining kisses over the back of his closely shorn hair.
“You’re okay. When I heard the officer down call I almost died.” Ana sobbed, sucking in breath through her tears. “All I could think about was getting this asshole, so if you were hurt it wouldn’t be for nothing. So we could put this all behind us. I almost ran out of the building, but I didn’t think I could look you in the eyes if this was all for nothing.”