by RJ Blain
“That sounds pretty volatile,” Jake replied, and the subtle change in his voice betrayed his worry.
I remembered why I was angry at Jake. He didn’t trust me. No one trusted me.
Another hiccup slipped out.
“Agent Miller, Agent Dillan, if you would please excuse us for a few minutes?” Dr. Sampson gestured towards the hotel, and both men walked away. “Get in the car. It’s probably better if you let her sit instead of carrying her.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable,” Jake replied.
“Let me spell this out for you: sit her in the car nice and easy before you make her throw up from jostling her.” Dr. Sampson held open the back door. “It’ll be more comfortable for all of us, and I’d rather no one overheard confidential information.”
Jake huffed but obeyed, and once I was seated upright on the backseat, my vertigo eased to a gentle sway. There was no escaping, however, as Dr. Sampson slid into the car beside me, trapping me in the middle.
“I’d like to say something.” I leveled my best glare at the woman, but I only made her smile.
“By all means, Agent Johnson. We’re listening.”
I opened my mouth, and the words spilled out of me. “He’s not supposed to be nice to me. It’s too hard to be mad at him when he’s being nice. That’s not fair. How can I have my fit of righteous wrath if he’s being nice? It’s like kicking a puppy, and I can’t kick a puppy.”
Dr. Sampson sighed. “Morphine can cause excitatory responses in some patients, and Agent Johnson happens to be one of them. These periods seem to be coupled with moments of calm clarity and normalized behavior.”
“Karma, I’m over six feet tall. I’m about as far from a puppy as a person can get. I can handle anything you throw at me.”
“It’s your stupid pretty eyes, just like a puppy’s,” I informed him. “All big and brown. Chocolatey brown. Shut up. Puppies are stupid. Why can’t I kick puppies? I’m mad at you. Stupid.”
Dr. Sampson cleared her throat. “Admittedly, I’m a little concerned about the degradation of her vocabulary and difficulty maintaining coherent thought.”
“You should have seen her on Demerol. We had to handcuff her so she wouldn’t be a threat to herself and others. Unfortunately, the handcuffs did nothing to stop her mouth. She was very vocal. Let’s just say they changed her to a different medication.” Jake chuckled, shifting beside me. When he reached over and rested the back of his hand against my forehead, I frowned at him. “I thought so. You’re running a fever.”
“Likely a combination of injury and stress. As long as it remains low-grade, it shouldn’t be a concern. Now, can we get to business?”
“Of course.”
“Jake’s an asshole, Dr. Sampson.”
“Let’s try to keep the discussion civil, Agent Johnson.”
Jake chuckled. “I’m pretty sure she’s just telling you the truth, ma’am. If it makes her happy, let her. I’d be more worried if she wasn’t calling me an asshole. It’s her favorite.”
“Very well. Let’s begin with the issue of her firearm confiscation.”
I slumped in the seat and wished I could disappear. “Well, shit.”
“I was a stupid asshole, under stress, and didn’t think through the consequences of my stupidity. I should have refused to cooperate. Better yet, I should have told her the instant I found out, recommended she just hand over her firearm and cooperate, and taken a few minutes to figure out what was going on and why. I fucked up.”
“Agent Johnson seems to have substantial trust issues when it comes to her partners, and it seems this incident has triggered old trauma.” Dr. Sampson patted her briefcase. “Almost all FBI agents have faced trauma of some form or another, of course. Unfortunately, this could have long-term consequences.”
Jake tensed beside me. “This conversation will remain confidential?”
“This conversation is confidential, there are no recording devices being used, nor am I taking any notes. Anything said in this vehicle remains between us.”
Sighing, Jake shifted on the seat so he could better face us, although it was a tight fit with his long legs.
“You’re a giant with puppy eyes. Should cut you off at the shins so you fit in tight spaces better,” I complained, moving my feet out of the way.
“I can’t say she’s wrong, Agent Thomas.”
“Until Karma joined the FBI, she was your average pretty young woman. Someone once told me she dated, could probably talk anyone she wanted into having sex with her, the pretty thing she is, and what have you.”
“Who the fuck told you that?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes so I could glare at Jake. “I did not.”
“Father of the Shrimp,” he replied.
“Pops told you what?” My voice rose an octave. “And why were you talking about my sex life with Pops?”
“Karma, I wanted to know what had happened with your previous partners. Of course I talked with your parents when I found out where they lived. I visited them several times within the first few months of our partnership. How can I watch my partner’s back if I don’t know about her?”
“You sneaky rat bastard. You seduced Pops with your puppy eyes, didn’t you?”
“I actually told him I was your new partner and needed to know your circumstances so I could best watch over you in the field. Your parents were very cooperative.”
“Tricky bastard.”
“She stopped dating anyone after her second or third month in the field. Around the same time, she developed a rather cold and withdrawn reputation. She handled people she didn’t like by simply refusing to talk to them unless absolutely necessary.” Jake sighed and shook his head. “It’s tough being a woman in the field to begin with, and when your partner doesn’t give a shit what happens to you as long as he looks good, bad things happen. She took the brunt of it. After she was shot four times over six months, her psychologist ordered her partner to be transferred.”
I echoed Jake’s sigh. “He liked using me as bait, and he didn’t pay attention or watch my back. Fine. I have trust issues.”
My first partner hadn’t just used me as bait for gunfire, either.
“I’ve seen your file, Agent Johnson. I understand.”
If anyone else had tried to tell me they understood, I wouldn’t have believed them for an instant. However, I suspected Dr. Sampson understood a lot more about my circumstances than I ever wanted to admit to anyone. Maybe she hadn’t walked in my specific shoes, but her job was to make sure I could wear them and survive the experience intact.
I wondered if I’d remember that little gem of insight when the morphine wore off.
“Her next six or so partners just didn’t understand what it meant to watch someone’s six. Karma did. She was so busy trying to watch theirs and her own at the same time that she was shot several times. I was number eight’s replacement. The first picture I ever saw of Karma was showed to me by her parents. She was unconscious in a pool of her own blood, and her so-called partner was responsible. Went rogue. The first time I met her, she informed me I was a stepping stone so she could make her way into CARD. She warned me our partnership was temporary, and she had no appreciation for those who couldn’t do their jobs.”
“That doesn’t sound like a promising start to a partnership.”
“I found it a very promising start, actually. She made her expectations clear. Once she relaxed a little, she gave me an opportunity to present my own concerns and expectations. It wasn’t until she tried to get herself killed during a bad case that she finally figured out I was actually watching her back. As I said before, I fucked up. I know exactly what sort of woman she is, and I knew full well there was no justification for confiscating her weapon.”
“So why did you participate?”
“Ma’am, she fell face first onto a corpse. She fell on a second corpse shortly after. Just prior, she had climbed down into a bloody gorge trying to discover the truth of a little boy’s disappearance, convin
ced she’d be finding his body. By the end of the day, I’m pretty sure we were both primed to blow. I fucked up.”
“Taking my keys out of my hand without asking was a shit move,” I muttered.
“Next time, let the fucker have the keys without kicking him.”
“Maybe the fucker shouldn’t have fucking stole my fucking keys, then I wouldn’t have had to fucking kick him.”
“Mom asked me to tell you she’s very sorry, and she has properly disciplined Dad for his actions.”
“And what about you?” I demanded.
“We’re going to be here a while, aren’t we?” Dr. Sampson pinched the bridge of her nose. “Perhaps holding this discussion in the car was not as wise as I thought.”
“Honestly, all I want to know is where you were for the past three weeks, Karma. Mom said you were getting fresh air for a week. You didn’t contact anyone. You vanished without a trace, and no one would tell me anything, not until some asshole showed up at my door, forced me into a suit, and dragged me to his car by my ear, took me to the airport, and shoved me in the security line so I could fly to London.”
“Some asshole?”
“Dad.”
“Oh, that asshole.”
“Yeah, that asshole.”
“I’m not sorry.” I really wanted to cross my arms over my chest, but the sling hampered me. How could I express my annoyance properly while my arm was trapped in a sling?
“I know. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. You deserved better.”
“You didn’t trust me.”
“Just because I’m a stupid idiot doesn’t mean I didn’t trust you, Karma. If anything, I didn’t trust my father. He’s an even bigger idiot than I am, and he simply isn’t ready to handle the immense amount of stubborn pride packed into that little body of yours. I was fucked no matter how I looked at the situation.”
Letting go of an unwanted grudge was easy.
Jake had nothing to prove, and I should have remembered that from the beginning. “Morocco sucked, but I went to Casablanca and waded all the way to my knees in the ocean. I didn’t even leave the airport when I got to Russia, and I spent two weeks driving in circles on the Autobahn in a Mercedes-Benz I should have just bought outright. I probably would have saved money. Then I got to London, and the FBI picked me up and told me my resignation was postponed because someone’s an asshole.”
“That asshole would be my mother.”
Bursting into tears, I wailed, “I married my way into a family of assholes!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Not even the morphine spared me from a skull-splitting headache. Sobbing must have contributed to the painkillers wearing off; my hand throbbed along with my head. I choked back the worst of my tears, my entire body shaking from the effort.
“Now would probably be a good time to take her to your room, get her medicines into her, and give her a chance to rest. You are checked in, right?”
“Yes, I’m checked in, though I haven’t been to my room yet.”
“Give me your key. I’ll walk with you and get the door open and bring her bag.”
The thought of anyone seeing me made me shake my head, which only added to my headache and growing nausea.
Jake took a tissue and wiped my face. “Karma, everything’ll be fine, okay? You can hide in our room until you feel better.”
While I protested, Jake ignored me, slid out of the car, and waited for me to join him. The man somehow managed to lure me out of the vehicle, but the instant I tried to stand, everything spun around me.
I lost a lot of time somewhere, because when I could finally crack open my dry, gritty eyes, I was cocooned in a warm blanket. The soft material had me wiggling my toes. Moving woke the pain in my hand, which hurt enough to warn me the painkillers had worn off.
“Hey. You actually awake this time?”
It took me a moment to realize I wasn’t alone in bed. Jake wrapped his arm around me and tucked me close to him.
A yawn slipped out, and I mumbled, “No.”
“Breakfast comes with coffee and painkillers, but you have to get up to have any of it.”
“It’s breakfast time?”
“It’s a little after seven. You slept right through dinner and the night. Dr. Sampson said to let you sleep for as long as you needed. Something about stress fatigue. She then told me I should do the same for the same reasons. That woman’s pushy.”
“You’re an asshole, Jake.”
“There’s the Karma I know and love. How are you feeling?”
“I haven’t had coffee in three weeks.”
For such a large man, Jake moved fast, and he was out of bed on route to the room’s coffee maker before I had a chance to do more than blink.
“This kingdom is hell. Apparently, they don’t believe in coffee. I had to specifically request a coffee maker. The only other way to get coffee? Room service. They would have brought it in a tea pot. In teacups. Gold-rimmed teacups.” Jake sighed. “We’re stuck with the gold-rimmed teacups. At least they believe in cream and sugar here.”
It wasn’t until Jake turned to face me, the coffee brewing, that I realized he wasn’t wearing anything.
While I thought he looked great when he wore a suit, damn the man looked even better when there was nothing between me and a good look at his skin. There were a lot of different types of men in the world, and Jake was definitely my type. While he was tall and had muscle, he balanced masculine bulk with a leaner build. When he wanted to show off muscle, he could—and did.
I had some very pleasant memories of just how he could put his strength to good use. The emotions I expected, the anger, sting of betrayal, and all the negativity I had carried around with me in Africa, Russia, and Germany should have still been lurking beneath my skin poised to rear their ugly heads, but they came a distant second to my awareness of his beautiful body.
I wanted to do a lot more than run my hands all over him, which added to my confusing tangle of emotions. Men had made it clear what they wanted me for, and Jake being so relaxed frustrated me.
It wasn’t supposed to be the other way around, and I had no idea how to bring out the playful and energetic man I wanted in bed with me.
Careful to avoid using my right arm, I lurched upright so I could figure out how to lure him away from the coffee maker. While I had no memory of changing, I was wearing a nightgown, the kind I hadn’t worn since I was little a girl.
It had frills. Pink frills. “Why are there pink frills?”
“I was going to ask you that. It was in your bag.”
Finding adult clothing in my size was often a challenge, especially after having lost so much weight. I glowered at the gown, taking a few minutes to consider the most satisfying ways to rid the Earth of it. “I would rather be naked, too.”
“You need to stop losing your clothes.”
“But maybe I like losing my clothes.”
“That has to be the painkillers talking.”
“You lost your clothes. Are you saying I can’t lose mine? Look at you, all naked over there.” I lifted my right arm and stared at the splint. “The painkillers aren’t working anymore.”
“Is there something you’re trying to tell me, Karma?”
My face flushed right along with the rest of me.
Jake stalked towards me, leaning down until we were eye to eye. “Well?”
Why did the man have such pretty eyes? It had been the first thing I had noticed about him when we had met. He always managed to make me hyper aware of him and his eyes, and I had had to work hard to ignore those feelings.
“We’re going to have to work on this,” he murmured. “If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask.”
If my face got any hotter, I’d combust. “Oh.” I stared at the splint trapping my arm and sighed my disappointment. It was in the way, and until it was gone, there’d be no repeating what I had enjoyed so much.
Jake stared at me for a long moment. At first his expression was
one of complete confusion, then he followed my gaze to my arm. Concern replaced confusion, and when the comprehension hit him, he laughed. “You’re surprisingly shy. If that’s what you want, don’t you worry. I think we can come up with something.”
We did.
“Do you have a lighter?” I eyed the pink frilly nightgown, which had somehow ended up discarded on the other end of the room. Despite being located within a castle, the room was mostly taken up by the large bed, the dresser currently serving as a place to make coffee, and the tiniest bathroom I had ever seen in a hotel. It was still a bit of a mystery how they fit the sink, toilet, and tub in such tight confines.
Despite the room’s small size, it still managed to ooze opulence. The dichotomy amused and puzzled me. How could something so tiny still seem so elegant?
“No. Why?”
“I want to light that thing on fire in the bathtub.”
“The painkillers have kicked in, haven’t they?”
“Probably.” I had a vague memory of Jake plying me with coffee and pills after he had finished having his way with me. If anything, he had been even more determined and enthusiastic than in Pennsylvania.
Men, especially Jake, confused me. Then again, I’d heard a lot of people discuss make-up sex as though it were a sacred thing.
It wouldn’t take much to convince me they were right.
“If I order something, do you think you can keep it down?”
“I haven’t thrown up my coffee,” I reminded him. “These cups suck. I have to keep refilling my coffee every other minute. What is the deal with that? What happened to mugs? I need a mug, Jake.”
“I think they intend for you to sip the coffee and enjoy it.”
“I think they’re crazy.”
“So, we’re good?”
I turned my attention away from my nightgown nemesis to stare at my partner. “We’re good. Just don’t do it again. If you even think about it, I will unload my weapon, clear the chamber, and proceed to pistol whip you into unconsciousness before turning it in.”