by RJ Blain
Dinner went by in a blur. I ached, my shoulder hurt, but my worries over Jake’s mother believing Ma and Pops no longer wanted anything to do with me consumed my thoughts. I ate enough to appease Jake and spent the rest of the meal moving my potatoes around my plate while pretending to pay attention to the conversation around me.
Near the end of the meal, while Jake and his parents were engaged in a debate over procedures for handling violent crimes, I excused myself and headed to the bathroom.
To my relief, Pauline didn’t follow me. I dug my personal phone out of my pocket, still amazed it had survived through my stay in London. The only way I’d find out if Jake’s mother was right about my parents was if I called.
It was a little like having a tooth pulled. The longer I waited, the harder it’d be when the time came to get it over with. I wanted to say it wasn’t my fault, but while the medication had brought down my walls, I had spoken the truth.
I dialed home and connected the call before I fell prey to cowardice.
On the third ring, Ma answered, “Hello?”
“Hi, Ma.”
“What do you want, Karma Clarice Thomas?”
I winced at the anger in my ma’s voice, but the painful part was the removal of her last name from mine. Ma was the type who never let someone escape; she had once been eager to have a chance to four-name me.
“I just wanted to call and let you know I’ll be coming back to the States in a few days.”
“I see.”
The static hum of a live line was the only indication she hadn’t hung up on me. I swallowed, at a loss for what to say.
“Is there something you actually wanted?”
I wanted my ma back, but I didn’t need to see the fire to smell the smoke. “That was all. Sorry to bother you.”
She hung up.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Ma and Pops were proud. They fostered kids, and all I’d done was shatter the illusion of their perfect family. To make matters worse, I had done so in front of three members of the FBI.
If Social Services hadn’t come knocking at their door for an interview, I’d be very surprised. Pauline had her dirty secrets, too, including pistol whipping her son to keep him out of trouble. Handcuffing him to the kitchen island put her on a whole different level. There was one key difference, and the more I thought about it, the deeper I sank into my misery.
Jake was a full-grown man who could defend himself and handle his mother however he saw fit.
I had been five.
Considering Jake’s father was directly involved in CARD’s general operations, I couldn’t imagine the Thomas family letting go of what they’d learned about my childhood. Like me, protecting children was in their blood.
Lowering my phone from my ear, I stared at the device for a long moment, then took the ten minutes to cancel my phone’s plan and deactivate the account. The frustrating conversation with a man with heavily accented English and limited vocabulary distracted me enough I avoided crying.
Just to make certain the number wouldn’t come back to haunt me, I took out the SIM card, bent it in half, and tossed it in the trash. The phone joined it a few moments later. I washed my hands for the sake of appearances, forced a neutral expression, and returned to the table.
The Thomas family was still arguing about procedures, and I wasn’t sure they had noticed my departure or return. I waited for a lull in the conversation before asking, “Want to go on a walk tonight, Jake?”
My partner stared at me before offering a small smile. “Sure.”
“Armed and with your detail,” Sebastian ordered.
Jake sighed. “Yes, sir. Do you want to go now? Might give us a chance to escape before they start asking for your opinion. Once they get started, they never quit.”
Grateful for a chance to get some space and fresh air, I nodded. “If you’ll excuse us?”
“Enjoy your walk, kids,” Pauline said, waving her hand to dismiss us. “Take your phones with you. Karma?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
Pauline reached under the table, grabbed her oversized purse, pulled her holstered Glock out of it, and offered it to me. “I don’t think I need to remind you it isn’t a toy, right?”
Clearing his throat, Jake shook his head, likely in an attempt to warn his mother if she gave me her gun she’d never get it back.
Before the woman could change her mind, I reached over the table and secured a hold on the leather straps. “You don’t, ma’am. I’ll be careful with it.”
After I walked off the worst of my misery, I’d take her gun back to the room, dismantle it, and lovingly clean every piece. With luck, Jake’s mother would forget I had it. If I kept it out of sight, maybe she wouldn’t remember.
Hip holsters were substantially more comfortable than the shoulder one I used when I needed to conceal a weapon.
Pauline meant for me to be obviously armed, and I appreciated the extra layer of protection. With a sigh, Sebastian unbuckled his holster and offered it to Jake. “Han shot first. If anyone comes calling, son, you be like Han.”
“I’ll be careful,” my partner promised. After he buckled his father’s holster in place, he linked his arm with mine, careful to stay to my left side. “We probably won’t be too long.”
“Take your time, kids. Check in every now and then,” his mother ordered.
We escaped while we could.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I wanted to run, and it took far too much willpower to walk at a sedate pace. Without the medication dragging me down, an abundance of restless energy worked its way through me.
When it wore off, I’d crash and burn hard, but I wanted to earn every bit of soreness in my muscles. The need to be doing something had me fidgeting despite my best efforts to remain calm.
Jake chuckled, freed his arm from mine, and drummed his fingers against the middle of my back. “You’re a short fuse ready to blow right now, aren’t you?”
“I don’t want to push my luck.” I’d already pushed it enough at the firing range, handling weaponry with enough recoil to stagger a horse. If I wasn’t already bruised, I’d be black, blue, and green by morning, especially along my left shoulder, which had taken the most punishment.
“Did you really fire a rocket launcher?”
“I think it was made to disable or destroy tanks. It was like a grenade launcher, but so much better.”
“He let you work with a grenade launcher, too, didn’t he?”
“We could defect.”
“We’re not defecting, but I’m grateful you’re considering me in your plans to commit treason.”
With the disastrous phone call with my ma still fresh in my mind, I understood Jake was all I had left. “Of course I’d consider you in my plans to commit treason.”
Jake worked his arm around me and tugged me to his side. Despite our difference in height, I fit with him, and while I lengthened my stride to match his, he shortened his to match mine. A year ago, if anyone had told me I would enjoy being so close to my partner, I would have laughed at them.
I should have felt awkward, but he had as much to do with my sense of security as the presence of his mother’s gun against my hip.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll listen to your proposal for defecting.”
“Jake, two words: rocket launcher.”
“I bet Mom could hook us up with an instructor and a rocket launcher if we asked her really nicely.”
I frowned. “Are you being serious?”
“I don’t want to defect, Karma. We haven’t been here long, and I’m already dying for a good steak. The Brits just don’t get steak. Some of the food here is fantastic, but they commit crimes against steak. That’s a deal breaker for me.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “You’ve always enjoyed a good steak.”
“That’s right. I love a good steak, and I haven’t had one here yet. We can’t defect. I’m sorry. Anyway, we have to go back to work.”
The las
t thing I wanted to talk about was returning to work with the FBI. With my shoulder hurting as much as it did, I wouldn’t be ready for field work anytime soon, which only added to my misgivings. I wasn’t even certain I wanted to return to the FBI, in the field or otherwise.
“There’s going to be an interview regarding my resignation at some point in the future, which is going to be coupled with another evaluation.” Clacking my teeth from a mixture of disgust and frustration, I increased my pace, forcing Jake to lengthen his stride.
“I get to have an evaluation before I can return to active duty, too. Apparently getting shot four times put me on the fast track for one.”
“Just don’t let them take you to a secondary location. They might try to dissect you to figure out how you’re still alive. Actually, I need to watch out for that, too. When they see my x-rays, I’ll be on the short-list for a dissection.”
“Something wrong with your x-rays?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand the problem.”
“That is the problem, Jake. There’s nothing wrong with my x-rays.” I pointed at the bandage covering my right shoulder. “The bullet should have pulverized my shoulder. It should have left a fragmented mess of bone. I should have pins, rods, and screws or whatever it is they use to piece someone’s shattered shoulder back together. The bullet went through me and my shoulder blade.”
“And you don’t,” my partner stated, and I was aware he was agreeing with me rather than asking a question.
“Today’s x-rays showed no evidence I’d been shot at all. Nothing. There’s not even a single one of those shadowy lines or blurry spots or anything. They showed me the x-ray. It’s like I hadn’t been shot, except I have this healing hole through me.”
“Did your doctors seem worried?”
I frowned. “Well, no.”
“So why are you worried? You’re healing well. You qualified to carry a firearm again. My mother trusts you enough to give you her weapon so we could go on a walk without having them breathing down our necks. You’re going to pass your evaluations just fine. What’s the issue? Most people would be overjoyed they’re healing so well.”
“It’s impossible. You’ve seen what happens to people when they’re shot. I should still be in a cast, probably still in the hospital, looking forward to six months to a year to possibly recover enough to return to field duty. You, too. This is obvious evidence we’re dead. Maybe I’m actually in a coma in a hospital somewhere.”
Jake huffed. “You’re being ridiculous again.”
“You’re the one being ridiculous.”
“I am not.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Jake. This isn’t possible.”
“You’re not dead, in a coma in the hospital, or hallucinating. What do I need to do to convince you? You’re healing fast, that’s all.”
“I have a fully functional shoulder when I really shouldn’t. You, too.”
“Hey, leave my shoulder out of this. I’m quite happy with how mine has healed, thank you very much.” Jake huffed again. “Don’t put me in a coma or grave again, especially not having to deal with you on Demerol. I never wanted to kill someone as much as I did that stupid doctor. Demerol, Karma. I dealt with you on Demerol. You owe me.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know I don’t remember anything, Jake.”
“I thought it was bad when you chewed on my desk and tried to kill everyone at the office. You were even worse.” Coughing, Jake covered his mouth with his hand. He snorted. “Dad was shocked. It was one of the few times in my life I’ve ever seen my mother speechless.”
“Was it my language or the violence this time?” I grumbled.
It was probably what they had learned about my childhood, but I wasn’t ready to talk about that quite yet.
“You know I love you, Karma.”
“I may have the romantic instincts of a rock, but even I recognize when something does not sound promising.”
Jake laughed, faced me, and lifted me up by my waist, pulling me to him.
Squeaking from a mixture of shock and fear, I wrapped my arms around his neck and clamped my legs around his waist, clinging so he wouldn’t drop me. “Don’t do that. Put me down, Jake!”
“I was not expecting you to imitate a koala, but I like the results. Now I have you nice and close, right where I want you—and at eye level.”
It was true, we were at eye level, and as always, his rich brown eyes derailed my train of thought. “Damn you and your pretty eyes, Jake.”
“You could just shut up and kiss me,” he countered.
I didn’t have to think about it for very long. Kissing Jake was something I could get used to very quickly. I lowered my gaze to his mouth, which was curved in a smile. “I could.”
“You should.”
I made a show of thinking about it, shifting my gaze away from him and into the woods. Something in the trees caught my attention, and I stiffened, my hands flexing and grabbing hold of his shirt.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just something in the woods,” I replied, remaining tense and wary. “Do they have bears here?”
“I have no idea. They don’t have rabies, though. Do you remember that?”
I scowled at the memory of my ma telling Jake and his parents about the vixen biting my shoulder, resulting in a move to Vermont and rabies shots. “Unfortunately.”
Working his hands under the back of my shirt, he teased my skin, pressing his lips to my cheek. “You’re worrying about the wrong animal. I heard you very clearly tell everyone I’m a beast in bed.”
“We’re not in bed, Jake,” I reminded him.
“We could improvise.”
I snorted. “I’m pretty sure there are people watching us.”
“I’m strangely okay with them knowing without a doubt you belong to me.”
“We have wedding rings for that.”
Somehow, our rings had survived intact, although mine had required a thorough cleaning. I wasn’t sure when they’d been returned, and I was genuinely surprised they hadn’t been kept as evidence.
“Now you’re just being mean.”
Wherever the animal had gone, I couldn’t spot it, but I kept searching the forest for a sign of it. “But Jake, there’s an animal.”
“A less secure man would probably be really offended right now.”
“Why?”
“I have my hands up your shirt while trying my very hardest to get you to kiss me.” Jake kissed his way along my jaw, and I tightened my hold on him, well aware he was trying to make me squirm. I was determined to resist him, at least long enough to see the local wildlife. “You’re ignoring my kisses. That’s not fair.”
“But I want to see the animal,” I complained. If he was going to tease me, I’d pay him back for it. “There is also no way I said you were a beast in bed.”
“You really like what I do to you when you’re handcuffed. That counts.”
I did, and I probably should have been at least a little embarrassed by that fact. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Jake.”
“You just want me to remind you,” he accused. “You want to use me, don’t you?”
I did want him to remind me, and the truth of it made me happy. “Yes. Now, shh. You’re going to scare off the animal.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be afraid of heights?”
“Are you going to drop me?”
“I’m not sure I could. You have a death grip on me.”
The woods remained still and quiet, and I sighed my disappointment. “This is your fault, Jake. I wanted to see the animal.”
“I would ask if you were under the influence of narcotics, but I know you’re not, which is actually disturbing me. You don’t like the woods. Slugs live in the woods. If you want to see animals so badly, I’ll take you to the zoo. I have a better idea; I’ll take us back to our room.” He growled in my ear. “I’ll show you how much of a beast I can be.”
I bit
my lip so I wouldn’t grin—or worse, giggle. “Do you want something, Jake?”
“You, obviously. We’re really going to have to work on this.”
“But I’m right here,” I replied, careful to keep my voice neutral.
“You sly vixen. You’re toying with me, aren’t you?”
I turned my attention away from the forest, gave him a quick kiss, and pulled away before he could react. “Yes.”
“You win this round. I will behave until I have you back in our room. All bets are off then, though. My handcuffs are in there, and I think I need to put them to good use.” Jake slid his hands out from beneath my shirt. “All right. Back on your feet, you.”
If Jake thought I was going to jump down, he was crazier than I thought. “It’s too high.”
“I’d remind you it’s only a foot or so you have to slide down, but there’s no way you’re going to jump, is there?”
“Not a chance. You picked me up, you put me down.”
“All right, all right.”
I took one last look at the woods using the extra foot of height. I tightened my hold on Jake’s shirt, preparing for the moment he’d either lean forward or stoop so I could get my feet under me.
That was when the wolf stepped out of the trees. It bared its fangs, and its silence frightened me far more than its size.
“Jake.”
“What?”
“I found the animal,” I whispered, plucking at his shirt while every one of my instincts screamed at me to run right up the nearest tree.
Trees were safe. Wolves couldn’t climb trees. There were trees all around the path. All I needed was to make it the handful of steps off the trail to reach one.
Jake snorted. “It’s a slug, isn’t it?”
Fear had a way of making things seem far worse than they were, and the wolf was far too large and close for my comfort. I couldn’t even tell what color its coat was; my attention was focused on its long fangs, which it showed off.