Jane grinned down at her phone, reading through a text promising her some badly needed information. It had been three long weeks since Sitnikov's visit to her apartment and she hadn't been able to find any more leads in her murder case. She had searched tirelessly through boxes of evidence to come up empty every time. She had returned to Yankovich's apartment and gone over it again with a fine tooth comb, which yielded nothing more than the original search. Sitnikov was better than even she had believed, and she was looking at him harder than anyone else in the force. Like any other crime that seemed to link back to the Russian, all the evidence slid off of him like oil on leather. She'd been ready to break with protocol and drag the man back in for another interview when one of her confidential informants had finally come through for her. Jane dropped her phone in her purse and forced back a shout of triumph. Her abysmal luck on the Sitnikov case was about to change. She wanted the
Jane's heart sped into overtime as they approached the gated mansion located in an exclusive sprawling community on the edge of the city. She tried hard to retain her composure, but it was difficult. She was excited and afraid. She'd been investigating Sitnikov for so long now she was used to thinking about him day and night. During the day she worked on finding evidence of his many crimes. At night she remembered the way he had threatened her when he had come to her apartment. How he had forced her body against his and exposed her breasts to his predatory gaze. She couldn't think of him without picturing his hard body pressed against her. She looked across the unmarked cruiser at her partner. She was impressed that he'd finally stepped up in their investigation. After she had told him about her conversation with Desiree and the search warrant she was able to achieve he'd taken it upon himself to organize a unit to search the Sitnikov property with them. They had to move quickly on
Fired.Jane sat slumped in her car, her cold face pressed against the steering wheel, her hands gripping the hard plastic on either side of her head. She felt broken. Like she couldn't sit up properly and breath. She could only lay against the steering wheel of her car, motionless, outside of her former place of employment where moments before she had been forced to give up her gun and her badge.In a humiliating meeting she'd been called into the department head's office and made to explain her relentless pursuit of an upstanding citizen that led to his complaining to her superiors and threatening to withdraw funding from vital city projects. According to Jane's boss, Vladimir Sitnikov's lawyer had demanded the person responsible for dragging Sitnikov through the mud be held accountable. Of course, she knew it was by his order, not the lawyer's.A sob escaped her lips and she shook her head in despair. She had always been a cop. Right from the moment she turned eighteen and could e
The fire escape offered little coverage from the elements. Jane sat fantasizing about a certain mob boss' bloody demise in graphic detail while shivering in wet misery. She was doing her part in what amounted to one of the few jobs she could get with her shiny new PI badge. She was helping a local bond enforcement agent, Mack Hudson, track and take down a man that had jumped his bail a week prior. This one was known to be particularly dangerous, which is why Hudson had asked for her assistance. Apprehending criminals is what she was good at. If she couldn't do it as a police detective then she would do it as a private investigator. The wet misery wasn't helped by her choice of attire. When Jane was forced to give up her uniform she embraced the somewhat gothic style she had always favoured as a teen in an attempt to rebel against her strict upbringing. These days she tended to wear dark, biker-like clothes with her black hair cut severely to her shoulders with straight bangs. She'd e
Jane held onto the railing in a death grip, her body slamming unmercifully into the side of the metal fire escape. The rain made the metal slippery, she was forced to drop her weapon in favour of gaining a better more life-saving hold. Her taser fell thirty feet to the ground below. She feared her assailant might try to force her over the rest of the way, but he was too busy yanking himself up and then hurtling toward the stairs. He completely ignored her dangling body. She was grateful, but also slightly peeved that he hadn't offered her a helping hand. She was definitely going to tase the shit out of this guy when she got safely out of her current situation."Jane, where is he, he didn't come to the door. Should I take it down?" Hudson's voice sounded in her ear. She levered her body down, crawling carefully through the gaps in the railing until she was laying panting on the metal grate once more. She took two deep lung full's of precious air before rolling over and pushing to her
Jane felt better than she had in a long time. Which was really saying something considering she was currently sitting in the tiny, run down apartment above her PI office with a massive, annoyed Russian handcuffed to her radiator. He'd woken up an hour ago. She had worried he'd try to use his brute strength to tear the heater off the wall, possibly crush her skull in his massive paws and then leave. Instead he'd only pulled himself up into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor and simply sat, waiting, and stared past her. Jane was sitting across the room from him cross-legged on her bed. There was no actual bedroom in the suite. Her new apartment was significantly smaller than her last small one. But it was convenient and much more affordable on her reduced and sporadic salary. Unfortunately, it meant that her bedroom, kitchen and nearly non-existent living room were all in one room. She worried about what she would do if her captive decided he had to pee. Despite her skill
Sitnikov snarled something that was probably a swear in Russian. "I should just take from you what I want and be done with it. I shouldn't fucking care what you want, woman."Jane cautiously brought a hand up between them and placed it against his chest, and said almost wonderingly, "But you do."He said nothing for a moment, but finally jerked his head in a nod, his thick jaw clenched in annoyance. "I will give you more time."Jane relaxed slightly in his hold, feeling relief that more time was being added to the invisible clock he held over her head. She wouldn't be forced into a relationship with him yet. He was so intense, so overwhelming. She couldn't imagine being a part of his life."If " he said, his voice becoming deeper.Jane went rigid."If you let me touch you tonight. I want to see the body I am denying myself. I want to touch you and hear you moan under my hands. I want a memory for the cold nights ahead that you will consign me to."Jane stared up at him, her fac
Jane sat in her office sipping her first cup of coffee the next morning, contemplating the less than stellar furniture she had picked up for free on Craigslist and wondering if the decor of her PI office would put potential clients with money off. She was midway through thinking about adding a plant to brighten things up when the outside door chimed. Without a receptionist, Jane was forced to get up and greet the possible client herself.?Jane didn't keep regular office hours, and she wasn't expecting any appointments, so the entrance of two women into her dingy little office raised an eyebrow. Her brow went up further when she recognized the stunning blond as Claudia Cantore, fiancée to one of the most powerful businessmen in the country and owner of the newly revamped Underground. Interestingly, Jane had seen Claudia in passing at Knight's Out cafe several months earlier when Jane had confronted Anya Sitnikov. After further digging into Sitnikov's business and personal interests, Ja