In a Bad Way

by Karin Tabke

  “I never meant to hurt her,” Flynn said. “It was supposed to be just one night. It got out of hand.”

  “She’s worth ten thousand nights, you moron. If you’d given her half a chance, you’d know that by now.”

  Flynn got it. But he wasn’t a ten-thousand-nights kind of guy. “Look, she’s over her head at Surf’s Up. I need to talk to her about what’s going on there and hopefully talk some sense into her.”

  “Just because you can’t handle her working there?”

  “What she does is her business, but she’s in danger, and that’s my business.”

  Flynn saw indecision flicker in Charlie’s eyes. “You’re telling the truth?”

  “Yes, damn it. She won’t answer my calls. Where is she?”

  “On her way to the club. Something about getting her tips and talking to a guy named Boris.”

  “Shit. Call her on your cell, she’ll answer for you.”

  Charlie turned and ran into the kitchen. He snatched his cell off his charger and called her. He held it up immediately. “It went directly to voice mail. Either she’s in the tunnel or she turned off her phone.”

  “In the tunnel?”

  “BART. She doesn’t have a car.”

  Flynn nodded. “She probably turned it off so she wouldn’t have to listen to me calling her.” Flynn moved past the insolent roommate. He needed to get to the tiny dancer before Boris did. “I’m heading over there. Keep trying and if you get her, tell her under no circumstances to go into that club.”

  “You are talking about Isadora Fuentes, right? Coz if you are, you should know she does exactly the opposite of what someone she doesn’t like tells her to do.”

  “She likes me. If she didn’t, she’d answer my call,” Flynn said as he strode to the front door.

  As he hustled down the front porch steps to his car, Charlie called, “That’s okay, Special Agent, because if you didn’t like her back you wouldn’t be here, and you know it!”

  Flynn shook his head, not denying it.

  “I know she likes you, FBI man! Too much for her own good, and that’s the problem! She’s an all-or-nothing girl! Don’t you dare go near her again unless you plan on sticking around!”

  Flynn cracked a smile as Charlie called him out. She liked him? He liked her too, damn it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Flynn literally flew across the Bay Bridge, the late-morning traffic lull in his favor. Putting his foot to the metal, he roared into the city. Silently he thanked the heavens for the unfettered path to Pink. She had no idea the danger she was in. After his conversation with Justin earlier, Flynn knew that if he didn’t get her out of the club and keep her out, she was going to end up in the black abyss of the sex slave market. In all probability, it was what had happened to Alexandra Chastain. It wasn’t going to happen to her sister. Not on his watch.

  Knowing he’d get push back from Pink, he had a Plan B. He didn’t like it, but it was his only option short of kidnapping her and holding her hostage. Which he thought, if he could get away with it, might not be such a bad idea.

  Focus on the mission, not the woman, he told himself.

  White-knuckled, he expertly navigated the city streets. Purposely he kept his mind clear of all things Pink and bubble gum. Purposely he kept the fact that they were worlds apart from his thoughts. Purposely he tried not to remember the sigh of her breath as he entered her and the warm rush of it against his cheek. He couldn’t stop thinking of her when everything reminded him of her.

  Downshifting, he cursed, taking the turn too tight. Quickly he made the adjustment and upshifted angrily.

  Every memory of Isadora Fuentes infused him. If he were chained inside of a jail cell, he’d feel less imprisoned. The urge to take her into his arms and whisk her away from her life and into his bed was becoming unendurable. Since the death of his mother, Flynn could not remember being in such a dark place.

  He felt blindsided. She’d gotten to him, damn it. His reaction to her had left him vulnerable and unsure, two emotions he refused to allow power over him. He needed to find a way to purge her from his system.

  As he sped into the parking lot behind Surf’s Up, he caught a flash of pink and blond hair slipping behind the metal back door.

  “Christ,” he cursed, throwing the car into park. He hurried out and headed to the back of the club. When he grasped the handle to open the door, it didn’t budge.

  Moving around to the other side of the lot, he saw a beat-up silver Nissan parked in the Reserved For Management spot. He highly doubted that Andre the Giant or Boris Sorlov drove a crappy economy car. He called SFPD dispatch, identified himself, and had them run the plate. It came back as belonging to a Sherry Lauler. Forty-nine, five foot five, one sixty, San Fran resident.

  Letting out a long breath, Flynn strode back to the metal door Pink had slipped behind, leaned against the wall near the corner, crossed his arms, and waited. Five minutes. That was all he was going to give her. If she wasn’t out, he was going in.

  Several minutes later, the door opened back toward him, hiding him from whoever opened it. Not realizing he was standing there, Pink strode away from him, toward the street. Her bubble gum scent fucking with his testosterone.

  “You know, for your line of work you really should be more aware of your surroundings,” he said as he unwound himself and walked toward her.

  Pink jumped, turned, and screamed all at the same time. Wide-eyed, she stared at him. The color drained from her cheeks.

  “Damn it, Pink, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, hurrying toward her. Make a point yes, terrify no.

  Putting her hand out in a Stop position, she shook her head and damn if there weren’t tears in her eyes. “Don’t come any closer,” she said, her soft breathless voice killing him with its hurt. “Please, leave me alone.” She backed up, then turned and ran toward the street.

  “Isa!” he called, following. “What the hell’s wrong?”

  Shaking her head, she kept moving away from him.

  “Talk to me, damn it!”

  She stopped in her tracks. He stopped, too. Ten feet separated them. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders and knew she was fighting back emotion. He hated himself at that moment for scaring her.

  Slowly, she turned and faced him. God, she was beautiful. She took his breath away. The breeze ruffled her soft hair, her big sea green eyes so full of emotion, they chipped away at him. Her full pink lips trembled slightly and that killer body of hers stood rigid with pride. She was dressed in a pair of low-slung black jeans that were stylishly distressed with thin cuts across the thighs and knees. The long-sleeved pink shirt she wore embraced her curves in a soft, flattering way, exposing one creamy shoulder. Self-consciously she pushed the sleeves down as if to protect herself from what he was sure his face and body language screamed it wanted. Her pink toes peeked out from the wedge sandals she wore. She looked good enough to eat.

  “I don’t like you, Flynn Ryker. You’re a mean elitist who doesn’t keep his word.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “You hurt me. I don’t want to see you ever again.” She took a step toward him. “Do you understand that?”

  His heart thudded hard against his ribcage. He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good,” she choked back, then turned, and continued toward the street.

  She was hurt and she was pissed; no way was she going listen to anything he had to say when it came to her personally. Go directly to Plan B. “I kept my word about helping you find Alex,” he called. “That’s why I’m here.”

  She stopped again. His heart slammed painfully against his chest as he strode toward her. “There are some people I want you to meet,” he said, his voice quieter.

  “What kind of people?” she asked without turning around.

  Flynn stopped an arm’s length behind her. If he got closer, her body heat would lure him into her spell. “The kind that can help you find your sister.”

  She turned around, eyeing him w
arily. “Really?”

  Tension tightened his muscles as if he could repel all of the things about her that drew him to her. He didn’t like it, but damn it, at least with the task force involved, she’d be safe if she wouldn’t listen to reason. Though Flynn knew she wouldn’t. Not until she found her sister.

  “Yeah, really.”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Where are these people?”

  “At the Federal Building.”

  Raising her chin, she said, “I’m just a lowly cocktailer who flashed your buddies, Flynn, why did you change your mind?”

  “I gave you my word.” And it had become personal to him.

  “Do you really want to introduce me to your friends? Aren’t you afraid I’ll taint them? Taint your reputation?”

  “Stop it,” he bit off.

  “Have any of these people seen my boobs?”

  “Yes, damn it, and I don’t like it.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “Because your safety is important to me.”

  “A strip club server’s safety is important to a society man like you?”

  “Stop it, damn it! You’re not some piece of trash.”

  “I’m glad you finally realize that, Flynn.”

  Her words sucked the fight out of him. She was right. He was an asshole. Extending his hand toward the other side of the parking lot to his car, he said, “If you’ll accept a ride from me, we can go now.”

  “Okay, Flynn,” she exhaled, her voice shaky. “But that’s all. You stay away from me afterward.” When she stalked past him, he stood rooted to the ground, as he allowed her scent to die away and her words to penetrate.

  His request to officially join the task force had been denied, which meant, once he handed her over to the task force, there would be no official need for him to see her. The thought of that didn’t sit well with him.

  As she moved to the passenger side of the car, and he still hadn’t moved, she turned to look at him. “Do I have to drive myself?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No way.” And headed toward her.

  As she slid into the car and got situated, Flynn closed the door behind her. Get her in and out, then take her home and get the hell out of Dodge.

  As he put the key into the ignition, she shot him a questioning look. “No way as in you don’t think I could drive this baby, or no way, I’m ego man so I have to drive?”

  “No way, as in you don’t have a driver’s license.”

  “How’d you know that?”

  He grinned. “FBI.”

  “You looked me up!”

  Putting the car into gear, he backed up, made a sharp turn, and headed for the street. “Of course I did. That’s my job.”

  “Your job is to look up every woman you have sex with?”

  “No, my job is to look up every woman who tries to drug me for blackmail purposes.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she huffed back into the seat.

  “You Googled me,” he said calling her out. “Turnabout is fair play.”

  “Whatever.”

  Flynn grinned again, happy they were back to a more amicable tone. “You look cute when you pout.”

  “Shut up.”

  He laughed and turned onto O’Farrell.

  “Who are these people we’re going to see at the Federal Building?”

  “All you need to know is that I’m introducing you to a group of individuals who, through their efforts in another arena, may be able to help you locate your sister.”

  “Your FBI buddies?”

  “I can’t tell you too much, Pink, so don’t ask.”

  “Why not? I admitted trying to drug you and why. I told you about my sister.”

  He glanced at her, all humor gone. “Because if you were tortured or beaten into revealing sensitive information, lives could be lost.”

  “Who would torture or beat me?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “No one, if I have anything to do about it.” He meant it, too. Her continued association with the club was bullshit. “I told you, you’re working for dangerous people. I wasn’t lying. You need to allow the authorities to handle what’s going on there and stay clear of Surf’s Up.”

  She shook her head vehemently.

  Damn stubborn woman.

  “I told you, I have an in the authorities don’t have. I won’t give up until I have Alex home safe and sound. Besides, the ‘authorities’ don’t even know to care about Alex because she hasn’t been reported missing!”

  There was that. Again, it made no sense to Flynn. “Why would your father not report her missing?”

  She shrugged, but answered candidly. “Probably because she’s become a blight on the Chastain name. He’s probably happy she’s not working the strip club anymore.”

  “Maybe he made sure she didn’t resurface?”

  Pink gasped and looked over at him, wide-eyed. “He’s up for reelection next year!” She chewed her bottom lip and shook her head. “But he loves Alex. I could understand him wanting to get rid of me, but not Alex.” As soon as she said the words, he saw the color leach from her face.

  “What is it?” he urged. Something had triggered in her mind and she was obviously unwilling to share it. That meant trouble.

  “I—um, I’m not sure.”

  They entered an underground parking lot. Flynn badged the guard, then slid his ID card through the terminal. The metal gates swung slowly open. Driving through and up to the second level, Flynn parked in his usual spot, reserved for when he had business in the city.

  As he helped Pink out of the car, her hand was trembling. The urge to pull her into his arms and tell her it was going to be okay was strong. When her body naturally gravitated to his, he reached for her. But she shook whatever it was off and pushed away from him.

  “Tell me what you’re not sure about,” he quietly urged.

  Her face scrunched as indecision and fear played out across her features.

  “Trust me to help you,” he said softly.

  Nodding, as if coming to a decision, she looked up at him, determination written all over her lovely face. “This morning at the bus stop, a white van came racing around the corner from my house, it drove up on the sidewalk, and gunned straight for me. I jumped out of the way. Right after that the bus pulled up. By then the van had circled and drove by the bus.”

  With a calm he did not feel, Flynn asked, “Did you report it to the bus river?”

  “Yes, he didn’t see anything. I called nine-one-one, but it just rang. By the time we got to BART, it was still ringing. I hung up and just as I did the van pulled up facing us. I made a run for the train, hoping to find a cop. But there wasn’t one to be found.”

  “Did the driver come after you?”

  “No, thank God.”

  “Did you get a license plate? A description of the driver and the van?”

  Nodding, she took her phone from her purse and showed him the pictures she’d taken from the BART train. They weren’t great, but they were good enough to determine the make and possibly the model and year. “There was no license plate, and the driver was wearing a ball cap and sunglasses.”

  “Forward that to me as well as the bus route. I can have BART PD check the cameras. I think they store footage for more than twenty-four hours.” After she texted him the photo, he asked, “Has anything like this happened before?”

  When she told him about the motorcycle incident and being followed home, his anger mushroomed.

  Flynn said very slowly, “Did you report either of those incidents?”

  “No, I just figured the motorcycle incident was bad timing on my part. As far as the guy following me, I told Andre. He said he’d keep an eye out when I left each night. It hasn’t happened again.”

  “And yet, despite all of that, you went to the club today?”

  “I needed my tips and I thought it might be a good chance to get into Boris’s office.”

  Flynn stopped her in their tracks. Grabbed her b
y the arms and lowered his face to hers. “You’re a target now. If you want to stay alive, you don’t invite trouble.”

  “Target?”

  “Yes. Especially now that Andre lured you into committing a crime with the promise of information.”

  “But I don’t have a video. He can’t prove anything.”

  “He doesn’t have to, Pink. Don’t think for one minute he’s going to let you off the hook. You made a video once, he’s going to find a way to force you to make another one if you go back.”

  “I have to go back. I can’t just stop what I’ve started.”

  Taking her elbow, Flynn steered her toward an elevator. “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  As they entered a conference room on the thirteenth floor, Flynn braced himself. Justin looked up from his laptop and grinned as Pink preceded him into the room. If he made one comment about her tits, Flynn was going to flatten him.

  “Nice to see you again, Miss—?” he said, extending his hand as he stood.

  “Fuentes,” Pink replied, extending her hand and firmly shaking his. The other men and one woman in the room looked up the minute she spoke. Her sweet breathless voice tugged at Flynn’s gut and made his dick throb. “It’s nice to see you again, too, Justin.”

  Justin grinned like an idiot, looking everywhere but Pink’s chest. Inwardly, Flynn shook his head. Releasing her hand, Justin stepped back and glanced around the room. As he did, Pink stood quietly, chin up, and with a soft smile said, “Hello, boys.” Then nodded to Sonia Jackson, the only female on the task force. “Ma’am.”

  Sonia’s sharp eyes flicked from Pink to Flynn, back to Pink again, before she shot an inquiring look at Flynn. They’d tangled up the sheets about a year ago. It had been one of those “letting off steam after a high-speed pursuit” kind of unions. “Jackson,” Flynn said, acknowledging her.