Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
After the playful, seductive way Ana had made the vigilante Avenger jab, A.J.’s heart exploded in his chest. His entire body was more alive than when in the middle of a gunfight with a bunch of Talibani terrorists.
The gorgeous redhead, with eyes capable of seducing him to the most dangerous of waters, had him wrapped tight around her finger without even trying.
No woman, including his only real relationship outside of high school, had ever had him tongue-tied before. And was it sad that he’d just turned thirty-eight and hadn’t been in something real in over a decade?
Ana began straightening the pillows on her living room couch, then moved on to the stack of magazines on the coffee table, clearly anxious to hear news from A.J.’s team.
Panic-cleaning?
With his back to the column in the room, he eyed her as she bent over to retrieve the TV remote that had fallen on the floor, and he became mesmerized by the woman’s ass in those black jeans. She had to do Pilates. Yoga, maybe. Something that tightened and lifted her butt to perfection.
Her top came untucked, and when she stood upright and faced him, she began fidgeting with the material. The woman was a bit high-strung, but . . . damn.
Headstrong, guarded, and stubborn one minute—playful, sexy, and witty the next. He couldn’t always get a read on her, but he was pretty sure Ana was confused by her behavior when around him.
While sitting in his SUV an hour ago, watching Ana slip around to Porter’s backyard, his hand had remained frozen and hovering over his cell phone to alert Harper to what Ana was doing, but he hadn’t been able to rat her out.
Not without knowing more. He wanted answers from the source herself as to why she’d go into her boss’s house dressed like a burglar.
He hadn’t expected the gunshot shortly after she’d gone inside.
And when A.J. had rushed through the unlocked back door, the masked man had caught him off guard and barreled straight for him, arm outstretched, a firearm in his hand.
He didn’t want to shoot the man first and ask questions later since he was on U.S. soil and rules of engagement were a bit stricter. But damn, he’d swear ever since his fall Saturday, the random dizzy spells, the ones that felt like his head was filled with air, had him off-kilter.
A.J. hadn’t shared this with Harper or the others yet.
He couldn’t bring himself to admit he may not be in tip-top shape to operate or that he may actually need to get his head examined.
There was a real chance he’d been wrong to brush this off like he had so many times in the past. But usually, he felt better a few days after hitting his head.
He’d been thrown quite a few times from IED blasts, so he had some experience dealing with losing consciousness.
Never hallucinating ghosts, though. That was new.
Or someone getting the drop on him to knock him in the side of the head.
And tonight, when that fucker had hit him in the head with the gun, he could’ve sworn Marcus was there. He could feel him looking over. He didn’t have time to process the weird sensation since he’d had to let Ana know he was there moments later.
“It’s Harper,” he announced when his phone vibrated.
Ana crossed the living room to stand closer, her arms going over her chest like a shield.
“I have bad news,” Harper announced the second he answered.
“Don’t you know never to start a phone call like that?” he asked her.
“Someone beat us to it. The camera footage was already removed,” Harper delivered the shitty news.
“Fuck.” He held the phone away from his ear for a moment. “Security footage was wiped before we got to it,” he told Ana.
“He got to the footage first?” Her gaze dipped to the floor before slowly sweeping back up and landing on his mouth for several heartbeats. A.J. could almost see her thoughts swirling in overdrive.
Was she torn between panic-cleaning and panic-sex? Okay, he had to focus and not allow himself to be “razzle-dazzled” as his niece, McKenna, called it when a boy became fixated on someone or something.
“I kept my hat on. Head low. Whoever got to the security footage first won’t be able to ID me,” he told Harper, knowing exactly what she was thinking.
“What about you?” he asked Ana. But the look on her face and the fact she was as pale as a ghost said it all.
She was concerned her face had made it on the screen.
“Are we really helping her, though? Doesn’t this sort of prove she’s the leak?” Harper kept her voice low as if worried Ana might overhear her. “She’s one of our suspects. I know how you feel, but—”
“It’s not her,” A.J. snapped out, then quickly muttered an apology. To both women, maybe. “I’ll call you back.” He ended the call and tucked his phone into his pocket as Ana surprised him by unleashing her auburn locks from her bun.
She tore her fingers through her hair, swiping it off her shoulders. “I have to go sooner than I thought.” Her gaze darted to the stairs. Nervous as a rabbit about to bolt.
And he was right. Her shoulder bumped into him a beat later when she brushed past him.
He pivoted and reached for her arm in an attempt to stop her. “What are you talking about? Where are you going?”
“I can’t wait three days to leave the city. If footage of me in Porter’s house gets out . . . no, I need to leave now,” she said, a resigned look on her face.
Three days?
She pulled free from his grasp and started for the stairs, leaving him unsure what to say or do next.
He took a few seconds to gather his wits and figure out what in the Sam Hill was going on with her. A.J. knew why he was there, but she’d need to open up and let him in on why she felt the need to leave.
“Don’t you think running will only make you look guilty?
” he asked once he found her inside her master bedroom closet grabbing a duffel bag.
“Remember what happened with Aaron Todd last year?” Aaron was the Navy SEAL the FBI assumed was guilty of an assassination plot, especially because he ran.
Running was never the best choice when trying to prove your innocence, and she should’ve known that.
“I don’t have a choice. I need to go.”
“Ana.”
Before she had a chance to challenge him, to offer a response, her doorbell rang. Her eyes grew narrow when her brows slanted, a touch of fear coloring her green eyes darker.
She maneuvered around A.J. to get to the top of the stairs when they both heard someone yell, “It’s me. Kyle. Open up.”
“Shit,” she said under her breath. “He can’t know about this. About anything.” She faced A.J. and whispered, “Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him more than her words.
He nodded, not sure what else to do. He wanted to protect her.
Something inside of him wanted to save her from every threat that came her way, even if she was capable of saving herself.
She was in his life again, and this time, he didn’t have it in him to walk away.
Plus, right now it was his job. Okay, so maybe it was his job to chase down a mythical ledger while determining if there was an FBI leak, but . . .
“Thank you,” she mouthed, then went downstairs.
Once the door was open, Kyle quickly stepped inside. “Are you okay?” he asked before his attention swung A.J.’s way, distrust filling his eyes.
With Kyle there, Chris would be nearby. That is if Chris hadn’t lost him the way he’d lost Ana’s source earlier that evening.
Ana moved backward and stood alongside A.J., her body language saying, He’s with me. “This isn’t the best time right now.”
“Porter is missing, the neighbors overheard a gunshot at his place tonight, and you’re here doing what?
” One dark brow arched as he stared at A.J.
as if he were looking to do some hand-to-hand combat.
The man wasn’t over Ana, and A.J. didn’t blame him.
A.J. had only worked one case with her. To marry her and have to walk away? Hell, no.
“A.J.’s my boyfriend. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
“You’re not serious. This Navy man?” His eyes were on A.J.’s trident tattoo. Kyle was FBI and as decent at reading people as Ana, so it would seem. Although, given Ana’s psychology background, she could probably profile people down to the kind of breakfast they preferred to eat.
“Navy man?” A.J. tipped his head, acting confused just to screw with the guy, but he had to admit he loved the fact Ana had referred to him as her boyfriend, even though it was a lie to get her ex-husband off her back.
Still, he’d planned a hundred different ways to ask her out over the last several months, so “boyfriend” might not have been out of the realm of possibility.
But of course this would be how she wound up back in his life.
On a list of potential suspects for being a traitor. Of-fucking-course.
“I don’t believe you.” Kyle ignored A.J. and moved closer to Ana. “You didn’t mention him tonight, or the other night when we were together.”
“You and I weren’t together-together,” she added as if worried A.J. might think she’d hooked up with her ex.
Kyle looked back and forth between her and A.J. but chose to drop the matter. “You should be worried that Porter is MIA, not worried about your love life. What’s really going on?”
Love life? A.J. coughed into his fist. He sure as hell wished that was why he was in her townhouse right now and not because someone nearly shot her tonight.
Hell, everything happens for a reason. If he hadn’t been watching her, the guy at Porter’s house may have killed her.
Fate. Fortune. Whatever mystic shit Chris had been talking about earlier—was he right?
And maybe the Daylight Ledger was legit instead of an urban legend. And pigs can fly. Bigfoot is real.
“I was chasing down some leads, and then I planned on heading in,” she said, the snap in her voice a clear indication to A.J. that Kyle knew not to follow up with more questions, or he’d get his head bitten off.