The Reunion Mission (22 page)

“I wanted you to know I understood what you’d been through, and I know how—”

Annie stiffened, fury coursing through her blood. She shoved to her feet, balling her hands and glaring at Jonah. “Stop it! You can’t begin to know what I’ve been through! And I don’t know what your life was like growing up with a father who hurt you. Don’t you dare try to tell me—”

“All right.” He put a hand on each of her shoulders, and she tensed, realizing the mistake she’d made.

Her stomach knotted. Her mouth dried. Dear God, if she’d ever lost her temper and challenged Walt that way, she’d have paid dearly.

Inhaling sharply, she held her breath, bracing for Jonah’s answering wrath.

Instead, he murmured softly, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I only meant—”

When a tremble raced through her, he paused, his brow lowering in a concerned frown. Cupping her chin, he lifted her face toward his, his thumb stroking her jaw.

His tender gesture, so opposite the raw power she’d seen him display moments ago, caught her off guard. The warmth of his fingers, the crisp scent of soap that clung to him, the lulling calm in his voice had her senses reeling. Her head swam, and the heat of a blush prickled her skin.

“Relax, beautiful. You’re safe with me. I swear it. I will
never
hurt you.” A husky growl of conviction emphasized his vow, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch.

Annie couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Confused emotions tangled inside her. Part of her wanted to trust Jonah and believe the warm promise in his eyes. Another part of her remembered too clearly the brute violence he’d employed defending her in the alley last night and the power behind his punches in the boxing ring only moments ago. Despite his kindness and gentle touches, she’d witnessed Jonah’s fierce strength and skill. Her body’s reaction to him was only the natural response to being near so much virile magnetism. Wasn’t it?

When she didn’t respond, Jonah lowered his hand and stepped back. He sighed and glanced away, his expression pensive. “Annie, I asked you here because I have a bad feeling about what happened last night.”

Sinking back onto the chair, she rubbed her throbbing temple and shoved aside distracting thoughts of Jonah’s allure. “That makes two of us. Hardin isn’t likely to forget the money I lost any time soon. He’s going to make my life miserable until I repay him.”

Jonah popped his knuckles restlessly and frowned. “I wasn’t referring to Hardin.”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think your attack was random. I think the guy who stole the money was waiting for you, that he was expecting someone to be making that delivery for Hardin.”

A chill shimmied through her. “Waiting for me?”

“I can’t go into detail, but...I have reason to believe the money you were delivering was profits from a gambling ring that Hardin had laundered through the diner’s accounts.”

Her stomach seesawed. Annie’s emotions had spun in every conceivable direction in the past few minutes, but Jonah’s claim made her head reel. Hands shaking, she hugged herself and drew a ragged breath.

“The man who mugged you may have intended to kill you so that you couldn’t make an ID. Or Hardin may have picked you to make the delivery because he thought you’d be least likely to talk, that he could keep you quiet through intimidation. Or...there are other scenarios possible, but they all boil down to this—you’re involved now. You’re in danger.”

Chapter 5

T
his couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not again!

Nausea flooded Annie’s gut, and a bitter taste rose in her throat. She shook her head. “No. I can’t... I didn’t d-do anything. I don’t know anything. I—I—”

Jonah dragged a hand over his mouth. “Like it or not, because of that delivery you made, because of the theft, you are involved now, and you’re going to have to be careful. Watch your back. Take precautions.”

Annie muffled a half gasp, half sob.

She’d just spent months escaping a possessive and vengeful husband, seen him brought up on charges of stalking and murder, feared for her life and her children’s. She’d only recently started piecing her life back together, finding some sanity and calm.

As he wrapped a firm, warm hand around her wrist, Jonah’s
gaze drilled into her. “You need to be able to protect yourself. I want to show you a few basic techniques to deter an attacker.”

She shook off his hand and narrowed her eyes, suspicion tickling her neck. “How do you know all this? What proof do you have that Hardin’s doing anything illegal?”

“I don’t have anything solid enough to take to the authorities yet, but—”

“You didn’t want me to call the cops last night. Why?” Her mind clicked, reviewing from a new perspective her attack, Jonah’s rescue and his defense of her with Hardin that morning. “Are you involved in whatever’s going on at the diner?” She rose and stumbled away from Jonah. “How do I know there really is a gambling ring or money laundering or...or—”

Her chest seized, and her stomach pitched at the idea of unwittingly becoming ensnared in unlawful dealings at the diner. The turkey sandwich she’d eaten at lunch roiled in her belly and threatened to come back up.

Jonah sighed. “I know because...I’ve spent the past six months on this investigation.”

“This
investigation?
You’re a cop?”

“I was. In Little Rock. But I left the force about a year ago, right before I moved here.”

Mentally she reviewed everything she’d heard the other waitresses say about Jonah. “You told Susan you worked at the paper mill. That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

He blew a deep breath out through pursed lips. “Yeah. That’s my cover.”

Annie’s heart tapped a staccato rhythm, and she studied Jonah with new eyes, doubt and distrust nipping at her. “Your cover? Who are you?
What
are you? Why should I trust you? What do you want from me?” The questions tumbled from her in increasing volume as her fear mounted.

He quieted her by touching a finger to her lips. “I don’t work for anyone. This investigation is personal for me. I’ve been looking into the gambling ring and money laundering because of a friend of mine. The men involved in the ring swindled Michael out of his entire retirement savings.”

A sympathetic pang gripped her chest. Annie understood the gravity of such a loss. She lived paycheck to paycheck and couldn’t imagine how she’d survive if her income disappeared.

Jonah stepped back and propped himself against the scarred desk again. “Last night, I asked you not to go to the cops because I was afraid police involvement in your mugging would scare some of the players into hiding. I’m getting close to nailing these bastards, and I didn’t want any unnecessary outside law enforcement to rock the boat before I get the evidence I need.”

Annie shook her head trying to wrap her mind around the scenario Jonah laid out. “Wh-what kind of evidence?”

“I need to see for myself exactly how the operation runs, who is involved up the chain. I’ll need to videotape a transaction or record incriminating conversations. If I can get them, bank records, computer files, a log of wagers, any kind of paper trail to support my case.” He wiped his palms on his jeans and shook his head. “But the deeper I get into their organization, the dicier it gets. These men have a lot of money at stake. If they get spooked, they’ll protect themselves and their interests in the operation by any means possible. Even murder.”

A numbing chill crept through Annie. She stared at Jonah, questions spinning through her brain, yet she couldn’t make her tongue work. The weight of the situation settled on her lungs, squeezing the breath from her. By trying to save her job, had she embroiled herself in a scheme that could cost her her life?

The air in the tiny dark office vibrated with tension. Jonah held her gaze, his green eyes difficult to read in the dim light.

Swallowing the pressure in her throat, Annie voiced her doubts. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth? Why should I trust you?”

“Your attack last night was real enough, wasn’t it? Hardin’s fury over the stolen money was no act. I’ve no doubt he’s up a major creek right now with whoever that money was going to.”

Joseph Nance.
The name Hardin had given her flashed through her mind, but she kept silent, playing her cards close to her chest until she could figure out for herself who she should trust and where Jonah really fit in the dangerous scenario he described.

“I know I’ve dropped a bomb on you. I understand how scary this must be. But I need you to believe that I am the only person at that diner looking out for your interests. I want to protect you from any fallout, but you’ll have to trust me.”

Her trust had been shattered by the last man she gave it to and would be hard-earned for Jonah. Another biting chill nipped her skin. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing right now. But stay alert. Keep your eyes and ears open. And learn how to defend yourself.” He pushed away from the desk and moved close enough for her to feel the body heat radiating from his skin. “That’s where I come in.”

* * *

Jonah reached for Annie, noting the wariness that shadowed her eyes. When he touched her arm, she stiffened and pulled away.

“What are you doing?” Alarm flashed in her mahogany eyes.

“Getting to the business at hand. Teaching you some defensive moves to protect yourself.”

Her stance relaxed a fraction, but her expression remained cautious. He understood that caution better now. Her story about a car accident causing her facial scar aside, she hadn’t denied his conjecture about her history of abuse. Her body language had told him all she didn’t say. He had to proceed carefully. The last thing he wanted was to cause Annie any more pain.

But her protection was paramount, and he couldn’t be with her twenty-four seven.

“Let’s start with the basics.” He squared his feet in front of her. “Your best strike points are your attacker’s eyes, his groin and his throat. Concentrate your efforts there. Okay? Like this...”

Jonah lifted his arms to demonstrate the best hand position for a throat strike.

Annie rubbed a hand down her arm, her expression dubious. “I don’t know. Fighting back will only make him mad, make him hurt me more.”

Jonah lowered his hands and stepped back. He remembered how Annie had shut down last night, retreating into herself and giving her attacker no resistance. “Do you believe your life is worth fighting for?”

Her chin lifted, surprise flickering across her face. “Of course.”

“Do you? Deep down, do you truly believe your life is worth defending at any cost? Because to save your life, you may have to do things that are difficult, or embarrassing, or impolite or disgusting. You have to believe you’re worth it and be willing to do whatever it takes. Gouging eyeballs, biting until you draw blood...”

She winced and pulled her arms closer to her body.

Jonah scratched his jaw, reassessing his approach with Annie. His first task was helping her overcome her skittishness. Maybe showing her a few simple, less invasive moves would help build her confidence.

“Lower your arms to your sides,” he said, doing so himself. When she complied, he gave her an encouraging smile. “Now I promise not to hurt you. I just want to show you a couple tricks you can use.”

Her brow puckered skeptically.

“What would you do if someone grabbed your arm like this?” He wrapped his hand around her wrist with a secure grip.

She gasped and tried to jerk her arm back. He held tight.

“Instinct tells you to pull back, but unless you’re stronger than your attacker, that won’t work, will it?”

She raised a startled look from her wrist, meeting his gaze. “So...what do I do?”

Beneath his fingers, the flutter of her pulse beat harder, faster. He became acutely aware of the delicate softness of her skin, the poignant blend of hope and vulnerability in her expression and the answering thump of his own heart.

For weeks now, he’d been intrigued by Annie, attracted to her, and the protective instincts she brought out in him only deepened the connection he felt. Knowing how satiny smooth her skin felt stoked the fire that smoldered in his blood when he was around her and teased his imagination.
Steady, boy.

“Step closer to me.” When she hesitated, he added, “Come on. Keep your elbow down and close to your body.”

Drawing a shaky breath, Annie edged nearer.

“Okay, look what that did to my grip, the angle of my wrist.”

Her wary gaze still on him, she tipped her head like a curious puppy, then glanced down at the awkward cant of his hand.

“Now make a fist and twist it up toward my thumb and over my arm.”

She followed his directions and broke free of his grasp. Instead of smiling at her success, Annie scowled. “I didn’t do that. You let go on purpose.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, because I didn’t want a broken wrist. Here. Try it on me, and I’ll show you.”

Annie gripped the arm he extended at his wrist, and he worked through the steps he’d just shown her slowly, repeating, “Step in. Arm close to you. Fist. Twist toward their thumb and—”

“Ow!” Annie dropped his arm and shook her hand as he broke her hold. She blinked at him, her expression stunned.

He sent her a satisfied grin. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I—” She wet her lips and stood taller. A bit of the skepticism melted from her expression, replaced by intrigue. “It works.”

“Of course it works.” He chuckled. “I’m not gonna teach you stuff that doesn’t work. What’s the point in that?”

“Touché.” The corner of her mouth twitched, and a pink flush stained her cheeks.

Even that sultry hint of a grin scrambled his concentration and filled his chest with a warmth that expanded until he couldn’t catch his breath. But her delicate blush reminded him that despite her full lips and temptress hairstyle, Annie was off-limits. He had nothing to offer the young mother except heartache, and she’d seen enough pain in her life.

“Okay, next move.” He stepped behind her, catching her shoulders when she tried to turn toward him. “No, this time let’s suppose someone comes up from behind and grabs you like this...” He circled her with his arms, pinning her arms to her sides, and tugged her back against his chest. Again, she stiffened under his restrictive hold.

The light floral scent of her shampoo teased his senses. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself when her futile attempts to break from his hold caused her fanny to buck against his crotch.

After a moment of panicked wiggling, her breath coming in shallow gasps, she stilled. “Let go. Please. I—I don’t want to do this.”

“Struggling doesn’t do anything but wear you out, Annie. You have to use your head. Stay calm.”

She gave a small nod and drew a tremulous breath.

“You can break his grip by dropping to the ground. Just lift your feet. But shift all your weight onto his arms. Or if you throw your head back hard—although not now, ’cause I don’t want a bloody nose—your skull is hard enough to bash your attacker’s face.”

She tipped her head back slowly until she lightly bumped his face. Her silky hair tickled his nose and stroked his cheek.

Another spike of arousal sucker punched him, and he wrestled down the urge to nuzzle her neck. He cleared his throat and stepped back, allowing her to face him. “That move, uh...will at least catch him off guard.”

Mentally he regrouped, concentrating on the details Annie needed to know. He had only to think of the dangerous people who could be gunning for her after last night and the importance of her knowing how to protect herself to bring him back to the task at hand. “That’s a key thing to remember. If you can pull a surprise move on him, it gives you back the upper hand for a few seconds. Use those seconds to strike a debilitating blow that will help you get away. Got it?”

“What debilitating blows? I’m not Bruce Lee.”

“Remember those strike points I mentioned?”

She hesitated. “Eyes, throat and...groin.”

“Good. We’ll get to the Bruce Lee part later. But first you have to break his hold. Once you’re free, pull out your pepper spray and prepare to douse him.”

Her forehead dented as she frowned. “I don’t have pepper spray.”

“Get some. Keep it with you.” He waved her close again. “Let me show you something else.”

When he stepped toward her, Annie visibly shivered, and Jonah’s heart squeezed. He hated the fear that flickered in her watchful eyes. Some bastard had really done a number on her. The mugging last night hadn’t helped.

He pressed his mouth in a taut line, realizing that, more than the physical scars on her cheek, Annie bore emotional scars on her heart thanks to the rough treatment she’d received from a man she’d loved. Just as his mom had.

But understanding the source of her ghosts made it all the more important to him that he not add to her pain. He had to be careful not to give her false expectations, not to follow through on the desire that pounded in his veins. He had to protect her from himself.

He paused and held his palms up. “You up for one more demonstration?”

She hugged herself and, closing her eyes, inhaled a deep breath. Blew it out slowly. “All right.”

Pride washed through him. Given her history, he knew any reminders of violence and her vulnerability had to be frightening, yet she was here, giving his lessons a fair shake. She had the core strength and resilience that were essential to rebounding from the knocks life had given her.

From behind her, he held her waist with one hand and pressed his other forearm against her throat. “There are two things you can do if you’re being choked like this. First, turn your head to the side, into the crook of his arm. That repositions your windpipe so that you can get air.”