License to Kill
Page 18
I did not want to think about Jake’s parents in that way, and I shuddered. “Okay, fine. You have evidence. I also did not want to know that.”
“You asked.”
“I hope you’re not expecting that explanation to change my mind.”
“No, I’m not. I’m making sure you have all of the facts, however. You deserve to make an educated decision, one without anyone getting in the way. I’m going to do my best to turn the tables in my favor, and I’m not even going to try to pretend otherwise. I also have a secondary motive of getting into your bed without having to sleep as a wolf.”
“Isn’t that what got us into this mess in the first place?” I grumbled.
“Yes, and I don’t regret it.”
I sighed and checked the clock. If I left in twenty minutes, I could make it in time for work, which would be the perfect distraction from having to think about whether or not I could handle Jake Thomas reentering my life. “I’ll think about it at work. I’ll give you my spare key, but if you can’t bribe my landlord, it’s not my problem. That’s all you’re getting out of me for now.”
“I can live with that.”
Thirteen
Ever thought of picking up a career as an attorney, Mr. Desjardins?
The instant I walked into the office, my boss descended, armed with a bottle of orange juice and a muffin, which he defiantly plunked onto my desk. “Eat that.”
Without another word, he marched in the direction of his office, leaving me gaping at his back. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, fully intending on getting something on the way, but a delay in the subway had kept me from having the time to grab something from a convenience store.
Work proved even busier than normal thanks to catching up from the two days out of the office and the impending Hemshaw preliminary hearing. My boss had provided a transcription of the meetings with the state’s prosecutor and the defense attorney, which played out as I had anticipated.
The current proposed plea bargain favored Mr. Hemshaw enough I suspected a great deal of foul play but no way to prove it. I nibbled on my muffin while confirming the schedule for the next two weeks, a task I normally left for the end of the day but prioritized thanks to too many other people working with my nice, neat, and organized calendar.
Jake also kept creeping into my thoughts, and I’d have to potentially leave to escape him or escape with him if he had his way.
I couldn’t afford to think about Jake, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was probably lounging about in my apartment while naked to vex me and earn an invitation to bed as a man rather than a wolf.
“What do you think about the Hemshaw trial?” My boss set another bottle of orange juice on my desk.
“I don’t have blood loss, sir.”
“Humor an old man who shouldn’t be handling this type of trial.”
“Bring in a lawyer from another firm working as a consultant.”
“I’m under a rather strict confidentiality agreement as part of the divorce proceedings. The state prosecutor isn’t happy with me being along for the ride, but the two cases are irrevocably tangled.”
Hello, red flag. “How convenient for him.”
“That’s what I thought. So, Mrs. Thomas, former member of the FBI, and if my understanding of the situation is accurate, child rescue specialist, what do you think?”
Yep. Jake had managed to turn my life upside down yet again, and I gave it a week before I bailed town for one reason or another. If his parents showed up, I’d be running for the hills, never to be seen again. I’d transform into a fox, and I’d do a better job of hiding. I understood better how they might find me.
Damn it. I forced my attention back to work. “I think there are two possibilities from what I know. First, Mr. Hemshaw knows Mrs. Hemshaw did it and, for whatever reason, wants to protect her from a harsh punishment. This could be for many different reasons, including a mutual desire to get rid of an inconvenient child.”
Somehow, I managed to get the words out without choking on them.
“Alternatively?”
“He really likes his money and wants a plea bargain so no one exposes him as the actual culprit.”
“Using his daughter to do it.”
“Exactly.”
“Mr. Hemshaw doesn’t want you involved with the trial at all, interestingly enough. He saw how the Thomas family reacted when you fainted in the conference room, and claims you have questionable motivations.”
I picked up the bottle of orange juice, twisted off the cap, and took a sip. “Humor me, please.”
“I have the security footage, complete with sound, if you’d rather watch.”
“I think I can live without watching myself faint and making an idiot of myself in front of a client, three FBI agents, my boss, and another attorney.”
Mr. Desjardins chuckled. “Your mother-in-law’s overreaction scared the liver out of most of us. I had no idea it was possible to draw a gun that fast.”
Pauline Thomas, the mastermind of my misfortunes, just couldn’t leave me alone, could she? Even when she wasn’t present in body, she still found some way to fuck with my life. “Ah, I’d been told I had dropped like I’d been tapped.”
“Tapped?”
“Shot in the head. Collapse is immediate. It’s rather messy, too.”
“Yes, you did fall so fast no one had time to react. You were on the floor before your husband made it to you, and while your mother-in-law is quick, he made it around the table before I realized you had fainted.”
Damned Fenerec and their unnatural reflexes. I really hoped my boss didn’t expect an explanation I couldn’t give him. “Do I want to know what Sebastian did?”
“Blinked, looked at his wife, and started laughing. He then shrugged and asked your husband if you were all right. That’s when the creative cursing began. Between curses, your husband called for an ambulance and had it pegged as dehydration, although I had no idea how he figured that out just from looking at you for a few moments.”
I held up my hand and pinched the skin, which returned to its appropriate place in short order. “Skin elasticity changes when someone is dehydrated. He probably pinched me, saw the symptom, and made an assumption.”
In reality, Jake probably had taken a few sniffs and figured out something was wrong with me just from my scent.
“I found it very interesting Mr. Hemshaw had a strong and immediate dislike of those presenting the starting evidence for the case.”
“Most would interpret that as someone having something to hide. Why isn’t the defense attorney trying for a better bargain—or better, an acquittal?”
“Bribed by Mr. Hemshaw?”
“Ever thought of picking up a career as an attorney, Mr. Desjardins?”
My boss stared at me as though I had grown a second head. “And to think I believed you didn’t have a sense of humor.”
“I give it CPR on occasion.”
“Good to know. If you figure out anything, let me know.”
I returned to my work. Cursing my inability to let go of a case involving a child, I pulled out a blank legal pad and began sorting through all the evidence I had on the Hemshaw case in my search for the truth.
For the first time since being hired, I worked overtime, staying three hours later than normal so I could organize my thoughts and start doing independent research on Mr. Hemshaw, his wife, and their daughter. I grumbled the entire way home, let myself into my apartment, and yipped my surprise when I came nose-to-nose with Jake.
“You’re late,” he growled.
“Don’t scare me like that, asshole!” Easing my way inside, I closed the door and willed my heartbeat to slow to something a little saner.
Jake Thomas was not good for my health.
“Are you all right?”
I breathed until my heart no longer threatened to abandon ship and run away without the rest of my body. “Aside from you almost scaring me to death, I’m fine. I needed to get some work done.”
/> Apparently, Jake didn’t believe me, as he decided he needed to do a very thorough investigation of my mouth with his tongue. Shock and surprise kept me in place until I developed a severe case of raging hormones only he could address. I meant to protest, but instead of pushing him away, I twisted my hands in his shirt and held on for dear life so I wouldn’t forget how to stand.
When he finally let me go, I gasped to catch my breath. With one kiss, he’d undone the work I’d put in on reining in my racing heart. He also managed to revive its traitorous tendencies, joining forces with my body, which was quite ready to surrender and enjoy everything Jake had to offer. I dug into my last resort: the truth. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know.”
Shit. Acknowledging me wouldn’t help me drive him off. “I hate your parents.”
“I know.”
Double shit. Fine. If he wanted to play hardball, I’d play hardball. “I hate wolves.”
“I know.”
Damn it all to hell. He wasn’t helping. At all. “Knowing that, why are you still here?”
“I need you.”
Why did Jake always break down my walls? Every time I thought I could stand up against him, he found the one crack in my defenses and brought everything crumbling down. He turned my strengths into my weaknesses. When I surrendered and trusted him, he could turn my weaknesses into my strengths.
How could I have let any one person burrow so deeply beneath my skin?
It hurt.
The difference in our heights made it possible for me to lean my forehead against his chest and beat on him with my fists, too tired to do anything other than silently communicate the anger and frustration I’d carried around for so long. When I gathered my flagging courage, I asked, “Then why did you drive me away?”
I had left of my own free will, giving me half the blame for there no longer being an us. No matter how I looked at it, the story always ended the same way.
I’d left because I’d given everything I had and needed the one thing he couldn’t provide.
I needed a pack, too.
I needed a lot of things, and upon discovery of what I lacked, I’d become obsessed with belonging.
I’d become our downfall as much as him.
“I’m a stupid idiot who put my parents in front of my mate and wife. If you can never trust me with anything else again, trust me with this: I’ve learned my lesson. You will always come first from now on, no matter what. If I have to cut ties to prove it to you, I will.”
I shook my head. The scars inflicted from my ma reminded me each and every day of the price of cut ties. If I had been a better daughter, if I had stayed human, so much would have been different. “You need your pack.”
“I need you more.”
“No.” The thought of forcing him to remain alone like me woke sickening anxiety.
Jake pushed me away and cupped my face in his hands, leaning down so he could be eye-level with me. “Karma, calm down. It’s all right. Take a deep breath.”
I tried to shake my head, but he held me still with a firm but gentle touch. “You can’t leave your pack.”
“There’s an alternative. Several, actually.”
Tensing, I backed to the door. He pursued me, planting his hands to the wood on both sides of my head, still bent so he could look me in the eyes. I whispered, “What alternatives?”
“We pick a place to live and petition to join a pack. If the Alphas don’t agree to take us both, we move on until we find a pack who will. West coast packs have humans and witches in their packs. They’ll take a fox. That’s our first option.”
I wanted it so much it hurt, and I doubted my heart could withstand another disappointment. I fought my tears, refusing to harbor hope I might get what I needed and rediscover what it meant to be truly wanted by those around me. Amelia had promised such things, too, but our plans had changed. She’d been caught up in her dream of having a pack, and I’d been tossed to the wolves.
I couldn’t blame her—and wouldn’t. “And option two?”
“We fight for dominance and the winner takes all. If I win, I bring you into the pack. You’ll have to put up with my parents, and they’ll have to put up with you. It’ll inevitably piss them off, and I’m certain they’ll put me into the doghouse until I die of old age, but you’ll be in the pack where you belong. That’s a fight I’m willing to deal with, as long as you all are fighting within the pack. And if they kick us out, well, we’ll go together, and that’s that.”
If only life could be so simple. “And if you lose?”
“I wasn’t intending on losing.”
His answer didn’t surprise me in the slightest. Jake remained Jake, although I’d long lost sight of who I was. The new me, tired and worn, couldn’t keep up with the asshole even if I tried, and I found it difficult to try at all.
Things had been so much easier as a fox.
“I don’t know how to fight for dominance,” I finally admitted.
“I was counting on that to give me an unfair advantage.”
“Jake.”
He shrugged. “Desperate times, desperate measures. Fine. We shift and get into a fight. The winner, me, will bite you, the loser, and when you, the loser, submits to me, who will be the winner, I will bring you into the pack. Dad might have explained how to me during a theoretical discussion Mom doesn’t know about.”
Hell had frozen over, Satan had started ice cream socials, and the place had chosen to become a safe haven rather than continue its role as a place of eternal damnation. “Your father went behind your mother’s back?”
Jake grinned. “My parents screwed up, but Dad does care about the final outcome while Mom remains blind. Dad will claim desperate times create desperate measures, and that he always knew I was too smart for my own good. And as Dad is a very talented liar when he wants to be, Mom won’t smell it on him—or even think to check to see if he’s lying. Dad figured the only solution to the problem was to fix the core problem, so here we are. I’ve known the trick to bringing someone into the pack for a few weeks now, but I hadn’t figured out how to get a hold of you. Nobody in the pack has access to any of your information anymore.”
That tidbit interested me. Someone in the FBI had safeguarded all of my information? I’d only asked for my address to be sealed. I considered how that changed anything—if it changed anything.
I wondered if the black market operators had gotten involved with my situation.
I could truly disappear if Jake’s pack and family couldn’t readily access my file. I’d just have to give Jake the slip first, if I could. I’d put serious thought into it once he left me alone for a few minutes.
The Jake I knew talked big but bowed to his parents’ wishes. His defiance came in the form of a smart mouth, not in actual deeds. I gave the last living remnants of my sense of humor some CPR to get me through the rest of the conversation. “Who are you and what have you done with Jake?”
“People change. A pack without you in it is a pack I’d rather live without. If I have to choose, I’m choosing you, as I should have from the very beginning.”
Too little too late applied in our case, but I couldn’t help but wonder if we could rebuild a bridge out of the rubble that’d once been our relationship.
The problem with small apartments was the general lack of privacy. I needed some space, so I spent at least an hour hiding in the bathroom, spitting curses while trying not to cry. I avoided the tears, but it took a long, cold shower to accomplish. When I emerged, Jake was in the kitchenette, his smug smile fixed in place.
While I had been in the shower, Jake had made a modification to my apartment. On my counter was a coffee maker, and I was almost a hundred percent certain the rat had picked it up just to piss me off. Who came into someone’s apartment and set up a coffee maker uninvited?
My husband, apparently.
Asshole.
I pointed at the offensive, tempting machine. “What is that thing?”
“It’s a coffee maker. I saw you didn’t have one, so I picked one up after I finished successfully bribing your landlord into looking the other direction should you have a beautiful brown and tan dog over or if I happen to not leave at night. After our discussion about bringing you into the pack bonds, I decided to set it up. I need coffee, Karma.”
“That is not a coffee maker, Jake. That is an abomination.”
Jake pointed at the carafe. “The liquid in the glass pot is coffee. The machine made it. It’s a coffee maker.”
“And how long does it take that so-called coffee maker to brew coffee?”
“About twenty minutes,” he admitted.
“And how many cups does it hold?”
“I’d guess maybe five, if I’m being generous.”
“How much did you spend on it?”
“Six dollars at some thrift store I found down the street.”
If Jake wanted a fight, he was about to get one. He didn’t need his fur, did he? I could see spending a few hours ripping it all out and using it to stuff a pillow. When he shifted back to human, he’d be fine. The cold shower had done nothing for my resurrected libido, which wanted to skip the fur-ripping and go straight to bed. Unless he disregarded his nose completely, he could smell the truth of my situation.
One lost shirt and a few muscle flexes would do me in.
I lifted my chin and did my best to ignore my inappropriate case of lust. “I stopped drinking coffee months ago. Take it back.”
“No return policy.”
“Jake.”
“No return policy,” he repeated, pouring himself a cup and slurping.
Months clean of coffee hadn’t eliminated my desire to steal Jake’s and drink it. “A fight is really what you want, isn’t it?”
His smile grew wider. “Yes, it is.”
What an asshole. “So help me, when I win, you will never touch a single drop of coffee as long as I live.”
That plan would backfire; I liked coffee, and I missed it, but I’d stopped drinking it because it reminded me of Jake. If he insisted on being underfoot, I could have coffee again. It would only take a few sips to send me straight into orbit.