by Rachel Kane
But having Trent there last night had awakened something in Jace. Not desire. He knew what that felt like, and this was different. It was more like a recognition of his own loneliness.
Too bad. He wasn’t interested in relationships. He didn’t even want a hook-up, and certainly not with someone like Trent, who just exuded drama and trouble. He’d always hated guys like that. Back in his bodyguard days, those were the ones who were the worst to protect. They always thought they knew best, always tried to argue with you, reason you out of whatever you were trying to do to save them. Better some rich drunk kid you could treat like a donkey and drag to safety, than someone who was going to argue with you all day.
Part of him wanted to blame Dodi. But he couldn’t. He loved his sister too much to accuse her of any real wrongdoing. No, he knew that Harlan was really the one responsible. Dodi worried about him, wanted to help, all that stuff he didn’t need but could see how kindhearted she was when she offered, even if he answered her sarcastically. Harlan, on the other hand, was a schemer. Always working behind the scenes to make Jace’s life miserable.
It was ironic, really. Harlan had always seen himself as the big protector of the family. The oldest brother, always bigger, always stronger. He probably thought he was dragging his foolish little brother to safety, the same way Jace had kept his own clients safe.
By this time he’d walked back into the cabin and begun tidying. He’d skipped breakfast, too stressed to eat. But now, looking at his food shelf, he realized he was really low on supplies. Trent was going to want to eat. There wasn’t enough food for both of them.
Jace sighed. It was going to mean a trip to town. Which meant complications.
He walked back outside. Where had Trent been heading? Down to the pines. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Jace’s pulse picked up. He felt himself slipping back into the bodyguard mindset. Without conscious thought, he’d set his feet further apart, and lowered his brow, beginning to scan the area for threats.
He’s just in the woods, he told himself. Don’t get all protective. It doesn’t help anything.
He didn’t run, but his step was faster than usual. Every sound of the forest seemed to fill his ears. He tried to filter out the birdsong and breeze, and focus on the ground, the footfalls against pine needles and twigs. It was an instinct he couldn’t shake. He wondered if this was how parents felt when their babies were out of sight, even when they knew everything was probably okay.
Sure enough, there was Trent, another hundred feet into the woods. Was he okay? He seemed to be kneeling before the tree. Jace had the brief thought that he must be praying. But no. He was holding his phone close to the tree, tapping. As Jace grew closer, he could hear the sound of photos being taken.
“You have to get back to the cabin now,” he said to Trent.
Trent hadn’t heard him approach. Jace had been too stealthy coming through the woods, because Trent jumped and dropped his phone.
“Damn, don’t sneak up on me!”
“Sorry. Wasn’t sneaking.” He knelt and picked up the phone, handing it to Trent.
“What’s going on? Why do we have to go back to the cabin?” Trent slid his phone into the pocket of his hoodie.
“We’re low on supplies. I need to drive into town.”
“No problem, I’ll come with.”
Jace shook his head and began walking back. “Nah. Better if you stay put.”
Trent followed. “I don’t think Grumman’s men are coming to some little one-stoplight town to find me.”
See, there it was. The argument. He’d known it was coming. He turned around and faced Trent.
“I don’t know the nice way to put this,” said Jace, “but what you think doesn’t matter. My family wants to blackmail me into protecting you, so you’re getting protected. It doesn’t leave you with much room for an opinion. Yeah, the town is small. But look around you. It's late autumn in a mountain town. Things are teeming with tourists right now, any of whom might actually be a threat. My sister thinks you’re in real danger, so I’m not taking the risk. You’re staying.”
At this point in the conversation, the guys he’d guarded would usually calm down and obey. They might hold a grudge, but Jace knew how to use his size, his tone of voice, and his proximity to make a point. He was standing just a couple of inches away from Trent right now.
But Trent didn’t back down. “I appreciate your point, but listen, those guys were in my house. I know the danger. But I need to check in with my family. I need to check with my landlord, with my boss. I can only do all that with a cell signal, and I don’t have that out here.”
“People pay big money every fall to come out here and live without a cell signal for a few days.”
“Those people aren’t in the middle of their lives falling apart because of trying to do a stupid good deed. I’m already paying enough here, Jace. You don’t know what the past couple of weeks have been like. I'm on the verge of losing my job. I constantly feel like I'm being followed. My entire life is upside down. I need to go into town and take care of my business.”
Jace seldom felt confused. Part of his training had been the ability to make snap decisions, rather than get lost in overthinking. That training had involved a somewhat simple morality. The people he was protecting typically deserved whatever fate he was protecting them from. Celebrities making dumb decisions about drugs, dates, and paparazzi. Executives making dumb decisions about crime and affairs. They all came to him, basically asking him to keep them safe from the repercussions of their bad decisions.
It was rare that he’d been asked to protect someone who hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, there had only been one client that he would’ve called innocent, before Trent. He couldn’t really treat Trent like his usual clients.
So this was one of those rare times he felt confused. His instinct said to lock Trent up in the cabin to keep him safe. His rationality said Trent would most likely be safe, as long as they stayed together in town…and as long as Trent hadn’t done anything stupid. Trying to do justice wasn’t stupid. Jace wasn’t so cynical as to think that. He wanted to be that cynical. But he wasn’t there yet.
They were still only inches apart. Jace stepped back. He saw the relief in Trent’s features as the guy realized there wasn’t going to be a confrontation. “All right,” said Jace. “But you stick close. You don’t wander off.”
He found himself dreading this trip into town.
6
“Where do I plug my phone in?” asked Trent. He looked over the cracked vinyl dash and console of the truck. There was a car cigarette lighter, but no adapter to plug his phone into.
Just as he feared, Jace answered, “You don't.”
The entire drive to town had been tense like this, with Jace saying almost nothing. It was making Trent nuts. He couldn't tell whether Jace hated him, or whether he was always this taciturn, but the man just wouldn't give an inch.
The little speech out in the woods hadn't helped. He didn't need to be reminded that he was totally at other people's mercy. His awareness of that was etched into his brain. It sounded like one of those tough guy speeches that had been practiced over and over to put clients in their place.
He didn't need to be put in his place. Hell, all it did was remind him that he didn't have a place right now. He slumped against the door of the old truck, staring out the window, letting the ruts in the road and the truck’s ancient suspension rock him into something like numbness. At least when they reached town he'd feel like he'd returned to civilization.
When his phone buzzed, he didn’t realize it at first, thinking the truck had hit another patch of gravel. But then it did it again. He pulled it out of his pocket.
There were twenty texts and five voicemails waiting for him. “Finally getting a signal,” he said.
“You’re not planning on telling anyone where you are, are you?” asked Jace.
“What? No, that would be stupid.”
“Yeah, i
t would be.” He was staring out the windshield, not even glancing over at Trent.
Why did Jace have to put that little tone of self-satisfied superiority in his voice?
But more importantly, here was a little contact with the real world. Trent flicked the screen of his phone.
A text from his roommate Billy, dated last night: hey did you end up going out? Or are you staying home you big social phobic?
Then, another text: Okay, fine, be that way.
Then: Hey, I'm on my break. I tried calling you but you didn’t answer. Just ping me back to let me know you’re okay please?
Of course, Billy knew about the testimony. What he didn’t know was how worried Trent had been the past few days about it.
Holy shit I just got home—what the hell happened to my apartment?
Dude I am calling the police and reporting you missing if you don’t answer me soon.
“Something happened to my apartment,” said Trent.
Jace grunted. “Like what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
They pulled into town. Under any other circumstances, Trent would have been interested. The houses they passed looked so old-fashioned. Big white Victorians, old Tudors. But also, because this was the mountains, a lot of buildings made with stone. It made the town look sturdy. Jace had to circle the block a few times to find a place to park. The town seemed packed.
“Come on,” said Jace.
“You go on ahead. I need to make some calls.”
Now Jace looked at him. “You can make calls when we’re done. Right now we need to buy supplies.”
“You can do that without me, I’m sure.”
“Do we need to have the same talk again?”
Trent sighed. “God, no, we don’t. But I need to talk to some people.”
But clearly Jace wasn’t taking no for an answer. Trent got out, following dutifully as Jace headed toward one of the little stores. He quickly bashed out a text to Billy: I am ok and safe. Will txt later, long story and bad signal.
It sucked, not being able to find out what had happened.
Trent took in the little place they were about to enter, an actual general store, not a chain grocery place or convenience store. As stressed out as he was, it was so old-fashioned it made him smile. “Okay, I have to admit, I love little shops like this,” he said.
“Don’t call it a shop,” said Jace. “Quit acting like a tourist.”
Trent stopped. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked.
“Quiet down,” Jace told him, his eyes flicking around like he was scanning for enemies.
“Quiet down? Are you fucking kidding me? Look, I appreciate that Dodi wants to protect me. And I know this is a big annoyance to you. But if you’ve got a problem with me, just say it. Let’s get it out in the open.”
Jace whispered, “You don't know which of these people are here for pretty leaves, and which are here to hurt you and prevent your testimony. But you know, even if you don't care about your safety, I have to live with these people, and I don’t want them thinking I’m hooking up with a big drama queen, so yeah, you are going to quiet down now, or I’m getting in the truck and driving back without you. I’ve got no interest in getting anything out in the open. I don’t have any feelings that need discussing, I just have a job to do. Once this weekend is over, you and I will never see each other again, so until then, all we have to do is lay low.”
“Your version of laying low includes being a bitch to me when I say the word shops?”
Jace rubbed his hand over his face. “If you say shops, you’re a tourist. Tourists draw attention. If this Grumman guy somehow finds out you’re around here, first thing his guys are going to do is ask people if they’ve seen anybody unusual. You're unusual.”
Trent glanced down at his clothes. As much as he hated to admit it, Jace was right. He didn’t want Jace to be right. But the people wandering into the shops--the stores--this morning, were all dressed in a more conservative, down-home kind of way. He saw flannel, and overalls, a lot of tucked-in shirts.
If he hadn’t been so stressed out, maybe he wouldn’t have jumped to the conclusion that Jace was being insulting. Was he just misreading Jace’s intent?
Somehow he didn’t think so. Jace might be looking out for his safety, but he was still an asshole.
“Maybe Dodi can bring me some stuff,” Trent said.
“Yeah. She’d bring you things that’ll make you stand out. We’ll get you a couple shirts here, some jeans. Just enough to camouflage you.”
His phone buzzed. He glanced down as they walked inside. It was Billy:
OMG so glad to hear from you. WTF happened to my apartment?
“I really have to call my roommate,” Trent said.
“Right this second?”
“There was a break-in at my apartment. I need to—”
Jace shook his head, and glanced meaningfully at a man behind the store counter.
Suddenly Trent felt very trapped. Like he was caught in a paranoid fantasy of someone else’s making.
The store was divided into a grocery section, a clothes section, and what seemed to be a random gear section. “Grab some of those shirts,” Jace said, pointing at the rack.
The shirts were cut large, with thick flannel. The colors reminded Trent of upholstery from the 70s. They were seriously bad. But he knew that arguing with Jace would get him nowhere. He pulled down two shirts in medium. Then, at Jace’s prompting, picked up a pair of jeans that were stiff and itchy-looking. Nothing like the heavily-washed denim he picked the few times he wore jeans. The idea of being in these heavy fabrics for the next day and a half was depressing, just adding to the burden he already felt.
He had to make some calls. What had happened to his apartment? Grumman, obviously. But did they take everything? Smash his stuff? What did he have to look forward to when he came home?
Jace meanwhile was looking nonchalant, like this was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was, for him. He was grabbing cans from the grocery shelves, along with packs of beef jerky.
“How’s that spring holding up for you?” asked the man behind the counter.
“Still good,” Jace told him.
“Thinking about running some plumbing yet?”
It was an entirely different side of Jace, and one that Trent had not seen. His manner was easy. He put his purchases up on the counter, his face open and friendly. “That’s all I’m doing, thinking about it,” he said. “Been thinking about some solar panels, too.”
“Oh, you don’t want to do that. First thing any of you newcomers think of. Come to get off the grid, then can’t stand not having power. Then realize you only get a couple good hours of direct sun a day.”
Jace nodded. “But I don’t want a generator out there making noise all night.”
“Nope, I know, I know. Had a guy once on the other side of the valley, dug a hole for his generator to dampen the noise. Still cost him an arm and a leg. I’ve been thinking about something like that for my lodge up on the peak. Not up there enough to make it worth it though.”
“Guess I’ll just light fires for now.”
“You come see me when you’re ready to do that plumbing.”
Jace handed him some cash, got change in return.
Then it was Trent’s turn at the counter. He set his clothes down and prepared to pay. The man glanced from Trent to Jace and back again.
A moment of discomfort. What Jace had said about tourists being obvious came to mind. Damn it. Jace had been right. Trent stuck out here. And he saw the look on the store owner’s face. He was wondering what the connection could be between Trent and Jace.
I should have stayed at the cabin.
His heart sank. Had he signed his own death warrant, just because he wanted to check his voicemail? It didn’t seem fair.
But when Jace reached out and put his hand atop Trent’s, the atmosphere became much different. Their shoulders were brushing. Jace was suddenly extremely
close to Trent. And a look of recognition came into the man’s face. He gave Trent a small smile, but did not ask questions. He rang up the clothes purchase.
When they were outside, Trent asked, “What just happened?”
“I just saved you, that’s what.”
“I mean, that look he gave us—”
“Old Al cares about two things in life. First, he wants everybody to know he’s the expert on living out here. He’ll talk your ear off for hours about cabin-building, storing food, digging wells.”
“And the second thing?”
“Guys. He doesn’t talk about that one much unless you get him alone and get a few drinks into him.”
It was a puzzling image, Jace having drinks with a man twice his age. But Trent’s curiosity was quickly dissipated by his need to use the phone. This time, Jace didn’t stop him.
First, the voicemails.
“Trent? This is Frank Leonard.” His landlord. And he sounded pissed. “I’m standing in the middle of your apartment right now. I’m going to assume this is a break-in, because this level of damage is unacceptable. Give me a call as soon as you can. We need to file a police report.”
The next was Billy. “It’s just me. Call me. Text. Something.”
Then, surprisingly, Jace’s brother Harlan. “Harlan Marlowe here. Trent, I sent one of our secretaries over to your apartment to pack a few things for you. But your place has been tossed. It’s pretty bad. Your landlord confronted her and asked if she had anything to do with it. Sounds like he gave her hell about it. Goes without saying you should stay put. Also, see if you can get my brother to call.”
Jace was staring at him. “Was that Harlan?”
But Trent didn’t answer. One more from his landlord. “Look, Mr. Sinclair, I don’t know what the idea is, not getting back to me. I met the woman from your lawyer’s office. I don’t need tenants who are in trouble. You know I run a clean building. You need to pack your things. I’m terminating our rental agreement effective right now.”
“You’re kidding,” he said into the phone.
“What?” asked Jace.
Trent shook his head. “I’m homeless. Grumman’s men trashed my place, so my landlord is throwing me out.”