Dream Huntress (A Dreamseeker novel) (Entangled Ignite) (15 page)

“After Thanksgiving dinner, Mom told Katy and me to take a bath. On holidays, it was kind of a tradition for the four of us to snuggle in Mom and Dad’s bed and watch movies.” She absently swiped at her tears. “We were all curled up together watching a movie when it started. Out of nowhere, there was a vicious pounding and a horrible, angry voice. My dad jumped up and sprinted toward the front of the house and…”

She stopped. Even her full, pink lips drained to a pale, sickly gray. “He killed my dad,” she finally said. “We were in the bedroom, but we heard the gun go off. Mom screamed and started crying. She scooted Katy under the bed. At the last second, Mom grabbed me and pushed me in the bottom of her closet.

“The guy busted through the bedroom door. My mom begged and begged. I heard her plead with him. She said we didn’t have his money.” Jordan’s quiet gaze held his for a long moment. “Or his drugs.”

“Oh, Jordan,” Ty said. “It was drug related? You think your dad was dealing?” His heartbeat raced with the implications.

Jordan nodded. “I don’t think it, I know it. I have an uncle in Kansas City that I stayed with for about a week after it happened.” Shrugging like it was no big deal, she said, “When the cops came to talk to him, I listened in. They said my dad made a horrible decision, and it cost his family their lives. My uncle told them they had to find a different place for me to stay. He said he wasn’t risking his family because my dad had been involved in a huge drug war.”

So many things began to make sense. The way she attempted to kept him at arm’s length. Working narcotics. The stupid damn risks she took. All the cryptic answers she’d given him fell into place and completed a large part of the puzzle. “I’m sorry that you had to hear that, baby,” he murmured.

“I’m not. Asking why over and over is almost as hard as living through it the first time.”

Unable to stop himself, he took a step closer, but she jerked a chair between them and held up one shaky hand. “When you’re ten, no one wants to break you with the truth. But for me, the truth was better. I knew exactly why it happened, and I knew exactly who to hate.”

Ty watched her eyes drift shut and her body stiffen. He eased a little closer, thinking she might pass out or something.

“I lost my mom and sister because of my father. He led a crazy, high drug addict straight to our door. My mom tried so hard to talk to the gunman. She begged to go to the auto-teller with him, promised him an insane amount of money just to get him out of there and save Katy and me. But he shot her anyway.”

He decided she wasn’t passing out, just trapped in a flashback.

“Katy whimpered when the gun went off. Soft at first. I thought maybe he didn’t hear her, but he looked under the bed and grabbed her by the leg of her pajamas. I had about an inch of space under the door that I was looking through. He dragged her across the floor. Tossed her on the bed. She rolled off, trying to get to the closet. To me. She kicked and screamed and…and he pulled the trigger.”

Jordan opened her eyes and stared at him. “If I’d have just opened the closet. If I’d have done something…She was trying to get to me, her older sister, for protection. But I did nothing. I could’ve jumped from the closet or startled him.”

“No,” he said sternly. “You’d be dead now, too. You know that, right? You can’t blame yourself for something like that, baby. Sometimes it just…” He opened his eyes wide, blinking away the burn. “You were a kid, Jordan. You had no idea what was happening on the other side of the door.”

“I wish that were true,” she whispered, then swayed.

Ty moved around the table, decided to hell with her barriers.

“Ty, no!” she yelled when he pushed past the chair. “Don’t. I don’t want you to touch me.” She backed further into the corner and tried to steady herself against the wall but wilted toward the floor instead. “God, please go. Please just go.”

“Stop it,” he growled, swooping her up. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do it anymore. Stand on the other side of the room and watch her drown in misery. “I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t like it, that’s too damn bad.”

There was no fight left in her. She sagged in his arms.

“Ty. Oh, God.” Breaking, she buried her face against his neck and sobbed.

His chest hurt. His heart pounded with a painful, wretched throb. Still cradling her, he fell back onto the sofa. He had no idea what to do, so he simply held her, let her cry it out. He wondered if the tears were helping or just sucking her farther into the past.

Finally, she collapsed, limp and exhausted across his lap. Her voice was weak, barely audible when she spoke. “I think I’ve pushed it down for so long that when I sleep, it just swallows me whole. The dreams about that night, they get worse at stressful times, especially when I’m undercover. But they never go away, not totally.”

She tilted her head back and looked at him. “I’m messed up, Ty. I’m broken when it comes to caring for someone. Not even what happened between us last night can fix me.”

He picked up her hand and laced his fingers with hers. “Have you ever told anyone what you just told me?”

She shook her head.

“Then why did you tell me? Why trust me with something you’ve never told anyone?”

She sat up straighter on his lap. Shrugged. “Because I think you want something I’m not capable of giving. You deserve more. You’re handsome and kind.” Her mouth curved in the hint of a smile. “And brave in a totally warped kind of way. You should be with someone who can give you everything, a life, a family, a—” Her brows drew together. “What?”

He knew his smile confused her. Her mood shifted ever so slightly from wrecked to mild irritation. For that little spark, he was grateful.

Her eyes narrowed. “You could be a little more broken up that I’m ending this, cowboy,” she said. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah,” he tossed back smugly. “Are
you
listening to you? Because you sound an awful lot like someone who cares to me. Enough to risk a secret you’ve never shared with anyone. Enough to warn me you’re a pain in the ass. But lucky for you”—he tapped her nose with his finger—“I’d already figured out the pain-in-the-ass part.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears again. “This isn’t a joke.”

“No, nothing about any of this is funny. But your past doesn’t matter to me. The dreams don’t matter.” He tipped her chin up and sealed his mouth over hers, figuring he was a whole lot better at kissing than he ever would be with words. His tongue stroked between her lips, and that sizzle of connection that could bind them whether they were making love or standing on opposite ends of the room ignited, bright and brilliant.

“
That’s
what matters,” he said breathlessly when he pulled his lips from hers. “It’s the only thing that matters. I’m not asking for marriage or forever. We’ve both got a lot of issues to work through. I’m just asking for a chance. I want to get to know you better, and I want to help with this case.”

He touched her cheek, forcing her eyes toward his. “So for once in your damn life, can you just mutter a simple okay?”

She dropped her head back to his chest and nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

Chapter Eleven

Thanksgiving Day officially sucked sideways in Jordan’s book. And this one was looking less promising than the last nineteen. In fact, this year she was going to have to endure it sober and awake. Drinking wasn’t Jordan’s normal style, but once a year, she made an exception, although she’d yet to find the magic bullet that could put her in a coma from about noon on Wednesday straight through black Friday. But in past years, the most promising results had come in the form of cheap red wine.

Unfortunately, today would be spent without the numbing effect of alcohol. She was on her way to the Bucks’ family home, and if all the stars aligned just right, she’d figure out a way to get inside Arlo’s home office long enough to riffle through some of his documents. One small break—a scribbled phone number, a date on a calendar—was all she needed to tie the Bucks to the Delago Cartel and possibly confirm whether Ty’s suspected delivery date was correct or not.

But something about the raw ache that began when she kissed Ty good-bye continued to churn in her chest. The lingering unease of it baffled her. The whole thing with Ty baffled her. The last week had been unlike any she’d ever experienced. Her evenings at Buck’s had been spent ignoring Ty with frigid disregard, only for them to discreetly meet at her place after work and make love until the early hours of the morning.

She craved him like an addict craved the next fix. How ironic for a narc cop to develop a dependency. And not just any dependency. It took a special kind of Jordan Delany dysfunction to let a man be her drug of choice.

He’d shocked her with his support and understanding when she confessed about her family’s murder. Then he’d carved a path for her she’d never thought to travel down by herself.

“Wouldn’t it be stupid to push me away now,” he had said, “after you’ve told me all your secrets, and I’ve told you none of it matters?”

She’d spent every day since then turning his words over in her mind. He knew what happened to her family. He knew she dreamed. She told him the dreams never went away. She warned him she wasn’t good with relationships. The only thing she hadn’t confessed was that the dreams sometimes held visions from the dead.

But did he ever need to know that? Why would he need to know that?

If he witnessed another nightmare, wouldn’t he think she’d dreamed of her family? She often did. Perhaps it was selfish, but he’d offered her a chance. A chance that might never come again. The insanity of her life made falling into a relationship feel wrong, but thinking about pushing Ty away was nearly unbearable.

She glanced into the rearview mirror. A stranger with big, blond hair, thick eyeliner, and glossy pink lips stared back. As an undercover look, it wasn’t all that unusual, but the unease that accompanied it certainly was. Trepidation had gnawed at her since she’d accepted the invitation to Thanksgiving at the Bucks, and this year, she knew it was more than the normal stress the holiday usually carried for her.

Working with little backup and no wire while at the nightclub was one thing. Walking straight into the lion’s den with no way to defend herself was stupidity on a whole different level. It was obvious Warren wanted more than a friendship. And while flirting with him had once seemed like a sensible plan, she was now rethinking it. How was he going to react when she finally put her foot down and said no? She’d survived a lot of crazy stunts in the name of justice, but sleeping with Warren Buck wasn’t going to be one of them.

She turned on the little gravel road leading to the Buck family home and blew out a huge breath. What a mess. Thank God Bahan and her surveillance team would be in place by tomorrow, most likely before her shift began. That knowledge alone made her breathe easier.

It was just before one p.m. when she pulled in front of the old, two-story farmhouse. It could have used a fresh coat of paint, but it was pretty and surrounded by its own personal forest of trees. She stepped onto a huge porch decorated with festive holiday pumpkins and corn stalks. A large swing swayed from the overhang. It was better, homier, than any place she pictured Arlo and Warren living.

“Hey, baby, glad you could make it.” Warren took her coat and gloves, and then kissed her. Not in a friendly, welcoming sort of way, but with a much darker undertone. She’d definitely pushed the flirting thing a little too far, but how else would she have gotten an invitation to their home?

Warren introduced her to his grandparents and a gathering of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Then he pulled her into the kitchen to meet his mother.

The scent of turkey clogged the air. The sickly smell of pumpkin pie bombarded her. Sage. Onion. Celery. The smells, one on top of the other, grabbed her around the throat and squeezed.

One of the children flew through the kitchen door, and the loud crack of wood smacking wood made her whirl around in defense. Her gaze flittered to the table lined with bowls of stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberries, and rolls piled high on a platter.

Her heart raced, thundering in her ears. No air seemed to pass in or out of her lungs. Then Warren’s mom touched her shoulder, and the spell broke.

“I’m sorry, honey, that door is louder than a firecracker when the kids run in and out. Anyway, I’m glad you could join us.”

“Thank you for having me.” Jordan said. “Is there a restroom where I can wash up?”

Warren led her past the large group watching football. The restroom on the main floor was occupied, so he guided her to a bathroom on the second level. “What’s wrong? You okay? You looked like you were gonna pass out.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve had a bad headache all morning, but I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a couple aspirin, wash up, and be down in a minute.”

Warren tapped her bottom as she turned from him.

Jordan stepped into the bathroom, locked the door, and sank to the floor. She scrubbed her hands up and down her face. Her ears were still ringing, but her heart rate had dropped from wildly rapid to just moderately fast. She could breathe now.

“I’m so stupid.” She hadn’t participated in a real Thanksgiving since her family had been gone. Why had she thought she could manage it today? Ty had been furious when she’d admitted where she was going, and he was right, she should have stayed with him. He would have understood. He would have made it better.

Turning the water to its coldest setting, she let it run over her hands and splashed her face. “Rein it in, Jordan,” she whispered. There was a job to do.

She dried off, straightened her clothes, and opened the bathroom door. When she stepped out, she looked around.

Arlo Buck’s home office sat directly across the hall. She made it to the threshold before she heard footsteps on the stairs.

“Hurry up, Jordan,” Warren said as he peeked the top of the stairs. “Everyone’s sitting down to eat.”

As the day progressed, Jordan had to admit the Bucks seemed like any other family sitting down to a holiday dinner. Not that she had much to base the experience on, but it all felt relatively normal. Enough food to feed a small country. Men debating football strategies. Grandpa telling stories.

Warren pulled her to her feet after dinner. “I could use a little fresh air.” He grabbed a blanket and two glasses of wine and led her out to the swing on the front porch. He shoved off the two pre-teens who’d been giggling over something. They giggled even more when they caught Jordan’s eye.

Anything that moved her away from the overwhelming Thanksgiving gathering was a blessing, so she didn’t argue. But she did say, “Jeez, Warren, it’s like thirty degrees out here. We’ll freeze to death.”

“Trust me, I’ll keep you warm.” He pulled her down onto the swing and threw a blanket over them both.

They swayed with gentle movements, chatted, and sipped wine. Warren pulled her legs onto his lap, slipped off her shoes, and began rubbing her feet. Thank God she’d opted for no clutch piece today.

“Something tells me you’ve had more than one girl out on this porch swing.” Jordan smiled at him, but all the while she contemplated how to get upstairs to his dad’s office and how much time she needed to put in before she could leave.

Warren took her wine, shifted their positions, and put his arm around her.

You’re walking a dangerous line,
Ty had said
. I don’t like it.

Warren brushed her hair back from her cheek. “A few of us from the club are going to lunch and a movie tomorrow. I want you to come.”

“I have to work. I start at four. You probably won’t be back by then, so I better not. Your dad said the day after Thanksgiving is always packed.”

“Tell you what, I know both of your bosses, and they’re pretty nice guys. I’ll take care of everything, and you meet us at the bar about noon.”

Since undercover work was second nature, something better than
okay
should have come to her mind. But it didn’t.

“So how many girls have you seduced out here on this swing?”

“One or two.” He smiled. “But nobody I wanted to be with more than you.” He pulled her close and dove headfirst into a kiss. A dark, greedy, take-all kiss. She tried to ease back, but his arm clutched tight around her waist. He tasted like whiskey and desperation. His other hand found the hem of her sweater and slid underneath to grope her skin.

Automatically, her back stiffened. She wedged an arm across her stomach to create a barrier and gently pushed at his chest with the other hand.

A dark, ominous cloud of warning invaded her senses just as quickly as Warren’s hands. She hadn’t been with Ty long, but guilt and betrayal weighed heavily on her. So did knowing that if Ty ever caught sight of her with Warren, like this, the end result would be disastrous for all of them.

Warren had quick hands and a quicker tongue. Harsh, greedy lips nipped and sucked at her neck. With several drinks under his belt, he certainly wasn’t comprehending the subtle cues to back off.

The front door rattled, and Arlo cleared his throat as he stepped out onto the porch. He flashed a slight smile at both of them. “Sorry to interrupt. The security company called, said the alarm is going off at the club. I have to go check it out. Warren, you need to come with me. Sorry, Jordan. We should be right back.”

“Oh, I should be going anyway. I hope everything’s okay.” Jordan couldn’t remember ever being relieved to hear about a break-in, but she was damned relieved about this one.

Warren grabbed the nape of her neck and pulled her close. “Why don’t you stay? I promise I’ll hurry.”

“It’s been a long day for everyone, and I’d feel a little strange without you or your dad here.”

“Tomorrow then?” Warren asked.

“Tomorrow,” she said.

Back inside the house, she approached Warren’s mom. “Mrs. Buck, thank you for having me. The food was wonderful. I need to get going, but tell the guys I said goodnight.”

“One second, darlin’, and I’ll get your coat as soon as I finish scrubbing this pan.”

“I can probably find it myself if you point me in the right direction.” Bingo.
Buy some time, Jordan. Buy some time
. “I need to use the restroom before I leave anyway.”

“Sweetie, I think Warren took all the coats upstairs to his room. There’s a restroom in the hallway up there. Help yourself, if you don’t mind.”

“No problem. I’m sure I’ll find my way.” Straight to Buck’s office.

She hustled up the stairs.

Time was critical. In and out, she told herself as she slipped inside the office door. She grabbed her cell phone and started snapping pictures of every document she could get her hands on.

No book of contacts sitting around, not in this day and age. Everything would be in his phone. Maybe. But maybe not, if he was smart.

There was a calendar. She flipped through the last year, snapped a picture of each month. Opened a couple of drawers, looked up and saw a picture of Warren on the beach with some buddies.

Nothing, damn it. Nothing she could take to Bahan. Maybe Buck was a little smarter than she’d given him credit for. She didn’t expect a list of drug contacts lying around for the taking, but Christ, there had to be something. What about financials? Accounts? Where would they be?

“Jordan?” The voice echoed up the stairs. Warren’s mom. Damn. “Did you find your coat, hon?”

Something about the picture of Warren on the beach bothered her. She snapped a picture of it and blazed into the bedroom and grabbed her coat.

“Yes, thank you,” she said, meeting Warren’s mom in the hallway. “I was looking at all the family pictures. There must be hundreds here.”

“Taking pictures is kind of a hobby. I’ve always loved it, and Warren is so photogenic.” She smiled.

“Thank you again, Mrs. Buck.” Jordan headed down the stairs. “Good night.”

…

She’d survived.

That was the good news. The bad news—she had another date with Warren tomorrow.

But hopefully it would present an opportunity to talk with Warren, as adults, and set the record straight.

If he got angry and fired her, well, she’d need to cross that bridge when it collapsed. Tolerating the hands and comments had been one thing, and even Warren’s kiss she could shrug off. But no one, especially Bahan, would expect her to sacrifice anything more for a case.

Working undercover was often tricky for females. Doors opened a little more easily than for the men, but often there was a price to pay for that ease of entry. Even without Ty’s insistent warnings, Jordan knew enough to back off when the situation got heated, and Warren had been very heated tonight.

She pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex with Ty on her mind. Big shock, since that’s where it had been since the first night she’d met him. She’d become one of those women she hated, obsessing over a man rather than focusing on the task at hand. Of course this particular man had done things to her body she hadn’t understood were possible, but still, he was a distraction nonetheless.

And she couldn’t wait to get inside and call him, let him know she made it home okay.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?

She stepped out of the car and headed for her building. The wind kicked up. She tugged the collar of her coat tighter around her neck and realized she’d left her scarf and gloves at the Buck’s. Well, she’d just have to do without, because she sure wasn’t going back after them tonight.