Jayce & Emma

by Barbara Winkes

  Jayce stepped back, regarding her for a long moment. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “No. Not at all, but it doesn’t matter,” Emma whispered, stepping into her personal space once more. “Please.”

  The last word might not have been necessary, because Jayce’s hands were on her waist, sneaking underneath the hem of her sweater, pushing it further up. It ended up on the floor, moments later, together with her bra. For the span of a heartbeat, Emma felt self-conscious and a bit cold standing half-naked in the middle of the room, until Jayce pulled her close again. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had undressed her like this, slowly, carefully explored her skin, and cherished her. Emma gasped as Jayce’s fingers brushed over her stomach, lower, sliding beneath the fabric of her panties. Her eyes were on Emma the whole time, studying her, gauging her reaction. She might regret this not far from now, but at the moment, Emma had no reason to complain. She stumbled backwards onto the bed, tugging Jayce with her.

  She wasn’t feeling so self-conscious anymore when Jayce took off her sweater, halting for a moment before she leaned down again to kiss Emma’s neck, then her mouth, as her hand slid up her thigh. Emma had made a decision in those past few moments. She might be safer trying not to feel anything, for anyone, but she might just as well not be alive at all. That way, she served no one, especially not the man who had lost his life. Emma might have been naïve hanging out with Maxine, but it was Maxine who had pulled the trigger. Emma had served her sentence.

  “Shh, stay with me.”

  Oh, not a problem, she was right there. Almost. She had worked hard on keeping it together, for some time, but at this moment, she wanted to let go, to be swept away, no matter the consequences. “I’m with you.” Her voice was breathless with anticipation, making Jayce smile.

  “Good.” Her hands were on Emma’s thighs, gently opening her legs. Emma forgot to breathe for a moment. She let herself sink back into the mattress, pressing into Jayce’s warm touch, hungry for more sensation. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Jayce leaned down to brush Emma’s thigh with her lips, working her way upward until Emma had to bite her lip to keep in the sound. The sensations held her captive, waves of pleasure washing through her body, a helpless moan she couldn’t hold back.

  Stillness followed.

  Jayce lay down beside her, wrapping her arms around Emma’s trembling body. Silence was all right with Emma, because every word would inevitably destroy what fragile connection was between them. They couldn’t go anywhere from here, halfway nowhere.

  * * * *

  Still typing on her report, Jayce was doing the best she could to hide from Lieutenant Chomsky when her superior passed by her desk. “Detective Finney? Have a minute?”

  Depends on what you’re going to tell me, and if you want me to come in for good, the answer is no. Instead, Jayce saved her file and got to her feet.

  “Of course.”

  It was funny how undercover worked. Here, at her desk, life in the halfway house was like an elaborate, if real and potentially dangerous, dream. In the days spent there, however, Jayce Turner took over, a person who easily inserted herself into troublesome situations. Part of what had made the transition smooth, were some biographical similarities she could have done without. She hadn’t expected the life of her undercover persona to bleed into her reality like this.

  Emma.

  Aside from the obvious reasons, Jayce was worried about her, because she was kind and curious, and hanging out with the wrong people. Jayce shook her head to herself, smiling wryly. Herself included.

  “Something funny, Detective?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  “Okay, have a seat.”

  “I can’t stay long. I have to go back to the house,” Jayce reminded her.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” the lieutenant said. “I think it’s time to bring in reinforcements. The names you gave us…as you know, they are associated with some dangerous people. It’s going far beyond the sale of a few prescription drugs and a bit of crack.”

  “With all due respect, Ma’am, I disagree. If you call in the FBI now, those ‘cousins’ are going to be spooked, and we’ll never get to the suppliers behind them. We can go up all the way to the chain. Megan Connelly trusts me. I’ll deal with the others.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jayce held her superior’s gaze. “I am,” she said, but they both knew she had hesitated for a moment. Jayce wasn’t worried about the operation. She knew she could hold out until they had more than Meg’s silly ideas of hooking up with small time drug dealer. They could get all the way to the top. She hoped that when they did, Emma would be out of the house. She didn’t want her in any danger, and seeing to that was the only thing she could do for her. Once Emma found out the truth…Jayce sighed to herself. It was all her fault.

  “Is there anything else?” Damn the woman for being this perceptive. She hadn’t made it into this office for nothing. Usually, Jayce appreciated a woman in power, but today she wished Chomsky would let her handle the situation without asking too many questions.

  “There’s someone…I’m worried about,” she confessed. Lieutenant Chomsky regarded her intently.

  “She overheard something. I don’t think she wants to get involved in any way, but there’s tension. I’d like to get her out before the takedown.”

  “Does she know anything?”

  “Since when do we keep someone out of the line on fire only when they can help the case?”

  Chomsky’s expression told Jayce that her inappropriate outburst had revealed a lot more than she’d intended to. She made an attempt at damage control.

  “She’s young. She has no business being in the middle of this in the first place. Fell in with the wrong crowd. She got set up.”

  “Detective, can I be sure that your mind is a hundred percent on this operation? Because if it isn’t, you shouldn’t go back to the house at all.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “So you keep telling me. Okay. If you can’t come up with that connection in forty-eight hours, we’ll take the risk and go with the ‘cousins’. They are low-level from what you’re telling me. If we can get them to talk, there’s no reason for putting more people in danger.”

  “Fine.” She’d probably asked for this. The only way to turn the case around was to get the cousins’ boss into the house for the deal, and preferably get Emma out before—all in forty-eight hours. Jayce was aware there was no way to do this without revealing herself.

  It was already pitch dark when she stood shivering outside on the street. She didn’t have a lot of time to make the transition into her character. Part of her wished she could have taken Chomsky up on her offer and get the hell out. Jayce wanted to get out, as far away from that house as possible, but she couldn’t. Too much was on the line. Not everything she’d told Emma was a fabrication. One of her omissions was that the accident had occurred at work, during a pursuit, when the suspect thought he could get away by ramming his own vehicle into her car, almost killing both of them in the process. A long and painful recovery had sent her into a downward spiral, on the verge of addiction. She had worked her way back out of the haze, dealing with part-time work and desk duty until she was finally back to claim her old job, a case that should have been cut and dry, but was starting to grow heads. There was the likely connection to a network of dealers they were about to tap into. Meg’s little operation could blow up in her face any day—either way.

  Then there was Emma.

  The bus finally arrived, and she could get out of the cold, find a seat close to the heating. Jayce leaned against the window, her thoughts troubled by the memory of last night. Unprofessional, came to mind. Impossible. She had needed to be with someone, her bad luck that it happened during undercover work, with someone she cared about. From day one, she had found it hard to ignore Emma, wondering how someone like her would end up in jail for murder. She had done her homework on all the women,
the ones she needed to get close to in order to get to the dealers. Emma wasn’t one of them. From the day of her conviction, she had stayed under the radar, had been a model prisoner and was now working on leaving the halfway house as soon as possible. There were no friends or family to speak of, so she needed help with the transition. For sure, Jayce hadn’t helped, but she’d been unable to resist either.

  Marley greeted her as she pulled the front door closed behind her.

  “Hey. Quick, close that door, it’s freezing today, isn’t it? Did you get all your errands done?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “You got a job interview for Friday, right? Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jayce breathed a sigh of relief when she could finally escape the small talk and retreat to her room. The smell of food from the kitchen half-tempted her, but she didn’t want to see anyone, especially not Emma. Nevertheless, as her gaze fell on the book on the bedside table, she had to smile. Emma had stolen out of the room and across the hall on her tiptoes, but not before she had fallen asleep in Jayce’s arms. Feeling safe next to someone had become a privilege somewhere along the way, for both of them. She should do Emma a favor now and let it go. It was hard to stay away, almost impossible.

  All conversations came to a halt when she entered the kitchen, something that Jayce didn’t particularly like. Meg and Alison stood in opposite corners with their respective groups, not giving each other—or Jayce—the time of day.

  Emma gave her a shy smile, unaware she was shattering all of Jayce’s good intentions. In a way, they were both trapped. Who could blame them for trying to make that space a bit more livable?

  “You’re right on time,” Emma said. “It’s still warm.”

  Behind her back, Meg was rolling her eyes. Jayce had an idea why, but that was another thing she didn’t want to contemplate at the moment.

  “Good.” She took a plate out of the cabinet, served herself and sat down across from Emma, the air of disapproval in the room chilling. Jayce didn’t need any more hints to know that for the safety of both of them, she’d have to let her down gently, but she thought Emma deserved a warning at least. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Emma spoke. “You’ve been away for a long time. Did you have a job interview?”

  “Something like that.” It wasn’t one of the bigger lies. If she screwed up this case, she might not have a job anymore.

  Emma sighed. “You’ve been here for a few days, and you already have opportunities lined up. Honestly, I’m jealous.”

  “Don’t be. You’ll find something.”

  “Maybe.” Emma studied her for a long moment. “I finished your book,” she said, and it wasn’t hard to tell it was code for something else. The book had sat on Jayce’s nightstand the whole day, where Emma had left it last night.

  “Did you like it?”

  “I’d like to read it all over again.” Emma blushed a little, but she held Jayce’s gaze. “I enjoyed it very much.”

  “You could give it another go. Maybe tonight.” Jayce could hardly believe herself, saying, doing the opposite of what was the responsible, necessary thing. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow she’d find a way to get Emma out of the house, after she’d learned the details of the new meeting. Everything had to happen quickly. She didn’t want to go over the deadline Chomsky had given her. After the arrests were made, maybe she could apologize to Emma and they could…dream on. Tonight would probably be all they had left together. She wanted to make it count.

  “That would be awesome.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you. I have to…go,” she said awkwardly before getting up to rinse her plate in the sink. Alison followed her into the hallway, her buddy Terri not far behind.

  “You and Emma seem awfully close lately,” Alison remarked.

  “You have a problem with that?” Jayce asked sarcastically.

  “Personally, I think she could do better, but that’s not my problem. Meg, however, isn’t so pleased.”

  “I didn’t know you cared about pleasing Meg.”

  “Just watch out. It’s a friendly warning.”

  Jayce shrugged. “I appreciate it. Good night.”

  “You’re going to bed already?” Terri called after her. “That must have been a stressful job interview.”

  Jayce didn’t think she needed to comment on that. However, stressed, she was, for too many reasons.

  “Here. If you actually want to read it this time,” she said when Emma opened her door, a happy smile on her face.

  All of Jayce’s stress and worries were gone in a heartbeat, though, when she was the sole focus of Emma’s attention. They didn’t bother removing every piece of clothing, or even moving away from the door. Leaning back against it, Jayce gave up on reason and responsibility, enjoying the play of Emma’s fingers teasing and tormenting her, the hungry kisses they shared. Eventually, Emma pulled down her pants completely, together with her slip, and got to her knees.

  Emma didn’t have any idea about what the urgency actually was, but she too seemed to sense that they were on borrowed time. After that first hurried time, they continued to undress each other, continuing at a slower, gentler pace on the narrow bed, until they collapsed in each other’s arms. There was nothing left to prove. After the case ended, maybe they’d have a shot at happiness—and if they didn’t, Jayce was all right with pretending for the moment.

  * * * *

  Meg knocked on her door precisely at midnight. Jayce had expected her, but she hadn’t expected Emma to still be there, curled up, sleeping soundly in her bed.

  “Don’t say anything about it, and make it quick,” she warned. “We don’t want to wake her.”

  Even in the dim light of the flashlight, Meg’s pout was obvious. “So it’s true. Sheesh, you don’t have standards, do you?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Your ‘cousins’ coming over tomorrow or what?”

  “Yes, of course, I told you. You didn’t need to make such a drama of it. They got everything we want, as long as we bring them the money, everyone’s going to be fine.”

  “Great. Make sure you check the pantry before we get started. We don’t want any surprises like the last time.”

  Meg sneered. “I think you benefited from the last surprise, didn’t you? Or maybe she isn’t that good?”

  “Screw yourself,” Jayce said mildly.

  Meg laughed. “Since you won’t, I might have to do just that. Besides, we won’t have that meeting in the kitchen. It’s too dangerous to do it here. There’s an abandoned house not far. Can’t miss it. That’s where we’ll meet them. Quickly, in and out, deal done. If all works well, every other week from now.” With a wry grin, she added. “We both know that you didn’t go to a job interview, and you probably won’t on Friday. We’re all gonna stay here a little bit longer…and little Emma might just to warm your bed. Lucky you.”

  “Yeah. If that’s all, I’d like to go back to said bed now?”

  “Oh, sure, knock yourself out. If you strain anything…well, tomorrow is the day.”

  She closed the door, and Jayce winced. She had told many lies, but Meg’s casual dismissal of Emma bothered her. Hypocrisy much, Jayce Finney?

  She had thought, hoped, that Emma had missed the whole exchange, but no such luck. When she crawled back under the covers, Emma turned to her. “I wish you wouldn’t do this,” she said ruefully. “Anyone, but not Meg. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Jayce was well aware that this wasn’t what Emma wanted to hear. For a moment, she toyed with the idea telling her the truth there and then. She couldn’t risk an operation that had started long before she’d shown up at the house, for a personal matter. She brushed her hand over Emma’s cheek. “I promise.” Whatever this promise was worth, because she would have to break it. Unlike other people in Emma’s life, she had no choice.

  * * * *

  In the afternoon, they had retreated to Emma’s room with
a cup of tea, trying to hide from the world and the inevitable. They were still hours away from the deal going down. Emma was blissfully unaware.

  This could still work out for her, Jayce thought. When it all came out, she might be able to do something for Emma, ask around—Kitty, the wife of her partner Daniel, had recently opened a shop for stationary and greeting cards. It wasn’t maybe what Emma had envisioned, but it was a start, something that might even give Jayce a chance to check up on her.

  Her plans were altered drastically the next moment when the door sprang open and a group of uniformed officers barged into the room. Jayce jumped to her feet.

  “What the hell is this?” She’d been startled by the intrusion, but Emma looked shell-shocked as the cops started immediately to tear up the room.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Marley said. “We got a call…I don’t know much either.”

  Jayce couldn’t believe what was happening. These officers could easily undo her work of the past half year—gaining credibility with the players in question, the immense time and effort leading up to this day. If the deal was off, they’d most likely scare the higher-ups away, no matter if they had planned to do it in the house or not. She felt with Emma who still stood unmoving and pale, but at the moment, she couldn’t help her. She would have loved to give the men a piece of her mind. She’d have to wait.

  Their problems became even bigger a moment later, though, when one of the uniforms produced a package from underneath the mattress. Emma’s eyes went even wider, her hand going to her mouth.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Damn. Somebody had talked. Somebody had done this on purpose, or to create a distraction, because there was no way in hell Emma would hide this much cocaine—from the looks of it—in her room. The person who had done this also deemed their little stunt important enough to count in substantial losses. Why?