by Rachel Kane
He had never felt so shaken. So hopeless.
7
When Jace heard the hopelessness in Trent's voice, a new instinct came into play, one he couldn't put a name to. It wasn't that aloof protection instinct. It felt more raw than that, more primal and immediate. Without thinking about it he took the phone from Trent's hand and dialed a number he had not called in a long time.
“Marlowe,” said Harlan on the other end.
“You need to tell me exactly what we're facing here.”
“Holy shit, Jace. It's been a while.”
“Yeah, I noticed you sent Dodi out to do your dirty work.”
“You know how it is, man, I get so busy—”
“Cut it. We both know why you didn't come yourself.”
Silence hung between them for a moment. The shared guilt they could not speak of, that had put a wall between them, made it impossible for them to just talk.
But Jace didn't have time to think about that guilt, and about the reasons he hated his brother. “Trent's apartment was busted up,” he said. “Now his landlord has kicked him out.”
“We’ll get it handled,” said his brother in that bluff confident tone that grated so badly on Jace.
“What am I protecting Trent from? This isn't some hidden little threat. The landlord is going to involve the police. Surely Grumman realizes that.”
“Do you honestly think someone like Grumman cares that the police are involved?”
“Back when I did this for a living, we had a little thing called a risk assessment, Harlan. Because there’s a big difference between protecting somebody from getting roughed up, and protecting somebody from getting their entire world destroyed by someone who can pay to avoid the consequences.”
“This whole case is about making Grumman pay for the consequences.”
“Fine, fine, but meantime, where is Trent supposed to live? The landlord evicted him.”
“Nah, he can’t do that.”
“It’s too late, he already has.”
“Over the phone? We’ll figure something out.”
“Figure it out now. Trent’s being put through the wringer. He’s probably thinking about dropping out as a witness.”
Trent opened his mouth, but Jace held up a finger and shook his head.
“All right, all right,” said Harlan. “I’ll call the landlord and throw some law-words at him. He’ll be too scared to evict Trent.”
“Good. Call us back when it’s done.”
“You in a place where you’ve got consistent signal?”
Damn. Jace hadn’t thought of that. “Guess I’m stuck here till you call. Make it snappy.”
He handed the phone back to Trent.
“I’m not too scared to testify,” said Trent.
“I know that. I don’t think Harlan does. Don’t worry about it. It gives him a little motivation. But like you heard, we’ll be here for a while.”
Trent looked down at the phone. “Give me a minute.”
Jace watched him dial with a concerned look on his face.
“Billy, it's me. No, no, I'm fine. Did you talk to the landlord? No, don't worry, my lawyer is going to talk to him. How bad--oh.” Trent spent some time listening to the phone. “Okay but look, you're safe, we've got renters insurance, and I'll get the lawyer to give you a call. No, I'm really sorry. It’s all my fault.”
Jace watched as Trent’s shoulders slumped, and heard his voice grow quieter, muffled by guilt. It was hard to watch.
Finally Trent hung up. “Okay. So. Time to kill. What is there to do in town?”
“Dressed like that? Nothing. Get changed.” He tried to make his voice more gentle than he felt.
Trent looked around. “Where?”
“Hell, I don’t know. In the truck, I guess.”
Trent opened the passenger side door and got in. “I feel a little exposed.”
“Oh for god’s sake, don’t be such a girl. Nobody’s going to look in on you. Fine, I’ll block the window. Happy?”
Jace stood with his back to the passenger window. He heard rustling and zipping.
He happened to glance into the side mirror. Trent had removed his hoodie. There was no shirt underneath it, just skin. His chest was trim and tight, his nipples hard in the cold air.
Jace didn’t mean to keep looking. But Trent didn’t seem to realize, and there was something hot about that. It had been a long time since Jace had seen anyone’s bare chest, other than his own. He realized how much he missed touching someone.
That was just foolishness. He didn’t know what he was thinking. Trent was a client. A target of dangerous men. Jace had to keep his head on straight. He didn’t even like the guy. All they did was butt heads, constantly. So why did he find himself looking into the mirror to catch a glimpse of him again? And why was he disappointed that this time Trent had the big flannel shirt on, buttoning it up, his soft skin out of view?
There was only one bar in town, and that’s where they went. This time of day it was empty; not a lot of tourists wanted to come in here. Trent got a beer, but Jace felt like he needed to stay alert, so got a coke instead.
“What’s it like to live here?” asked Trent. He looked so different in the flannel shirt and jeans.
“Quiet, most of the year. Once the leaves change, you get flooded with tourists, and that’s pretty bad. They come all around the cabin. Don’t see the private property signs, I guess. That lasts until it starts snowing, then you get a smaller group of tourists who want to see the snow. Constant car accidents. Spring and summer it’s nice, though. Nobody around much.”
“Is that why you came here? To get away from people?”
Jace looked down into his drink. “I suppose so.”
“I don’t know if I could do it. Live way out in the middle of nowhere. No power. No plumbing. No city.”
“Nah, you get used to it. There’s a rhythm to the day you learn pretty early on. When to get up, when to fetch water. You know when the sun starts going down that the day is pretty much done. Anything else you have to do, you’ll do by candlelight, or lantern.”
He moved his glass, looking at the ring of condensation on the bar. He touched the ring with his finger. This was the most he’d said about his move to anyone. It was uncomfortable. He felt exposed. By instinct he looked up and checked the door.
Before Trent could say anything that made Jace more uncomfortable, his phone buzzed. Trent glanced down at the display. “It’s your brother.”
“Hand it here.” He put it to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Okay, some bad news on this one. The landlord is serious. Trent had a month-to-month agreement, no lease. No leg to stand on.”
“Damn it.”
“But tell him not to worry. My secretary is looking for a temporary place for him now; tell him she's in touch with Billy as well. All Trent has to do is make it to the deposition on Monday. Once he testifies, Grumman won’t be able to touch him. The pressure will be off, and he can move. It’ll be fine.”
“You’ve got a lot of faith in that deposition.”
“Once he testifies, it’s on the record. If anything happens to Trent, all fingers will point directly at Grumman, and Grumman knows that.”
Jace had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that Harlan was underestimating Grumman’s sense of self-preservation. He’d seen rich guys in action. When threatened, they didn’t care who got hurt. They’d use anyone as a human shield.
He hung up and handed the phone back to Trent.
“Things okay?” Trent asked him.
“Everything’s fine. Let’s go.”
8
“I guess I have to look on the bright side,” said Trent. He glanced over at Jace, who shrugged.
“You’re not one of those people who say ‘It is what it is,’ are you?” said Jace.
“It’s just hard to be this far away from my apartment. All my stuff. I just feel exposed, you know? Is he going to go through my things, bagging it up to throw it al
l out?”
“Your landlord? I’m sure Harlan won’t allow that.”
It worried him. On the other hand, even though he worried, he’d seen Jace on the phone. For the first time, he actually felt protected. He’d seen the look on his bodyguard’s face during the two conversations with Harlan. The serious, intent look.
“Can I ask you something?” said Trent. “Are you going to be there when I get deposed?”
“I doubt you’ll need any help.”
“They destroyed my place. I’m just not sure how safe I’ll be.”
“You’ve still got a day and a half of laying low ahead of you. Plenty of time to worry about it later.”
When the tire blew it sounded like a gunshot. Jace’s hand was on Trent’s back so quickly, pushing down so hard, that Trent had no time to think, just let himself be shoved into the footwell of the truck. Jace pulled the truck to the side of the road, and let out a long breath. His hand on Trent’s back lifted.
“Come on up. It was a tire.”
“Oh my god. For a minute I thought I was dead.”
They got out and walked to the back of the truck. The rear driver’s side tire was busted, completely flat. At first all Trent could think of was sabotage, but then he saw how bald the opposite tire was.
Jace pulled a jack and tire iron from the toolbox in the truck bed and got to work. By now, the air had grown warm with noonday sun, and Trent’s flannel shirt felt itchy on his skin. He plucked it away from his chest, where it wanted to stick.
“Can I help?” Trent asked.
Jace just shook his head. He got the tire off, then wiped his forehead on his sleeve. He looked as uncomfortable in his shirt as Trent felt. Without warning, Jace began unbuttoning his shirt, then pulled it off and threw it into the driver’s side window.
Trent tried not to watch him. It would be really impolite to stare at that broad back, the way the shoulders flexed as Jace fitted the spare on. But what else was he going to do? Stare at the trees? Better yet, he could stand there and think about his apartment. He could savor the fear of his landlord tossing all his stuff onto the street.
He felt his pulse quicken at that thought, as anxiety coursed through him.
Funny how he was standing here, his life basically in danger, and he was worried about whether his books were thrown out. He took a long breath, trying to clear his head.
Jace got the last nuts tightened on the tire and stood up. “Damn, you never know what the temperature is going to be like, this time of year. Last week it was chilly.” He pulled his shirt off the car seat and rubbed his face and chest with it.
Trent helped him put things back in the toolbox, and threw the busted tire into the truck bed. Jace, still shirtless, started the truck and pulled back onto the dirt road.
It was impossible to make conversation. Trent was too aware of Jace. There was no doubt he was attractive. Painfully so. If it had been anyone else, Trent would have thought of flirting. Or at least making some admiring comment.
But this was Jace, who had been an asshole to him, and who even now looked self-satisfied at having changed a tire. He looked like one of those guys for whom everything came effortlessly. The blessings of life, interesting jobs, cute partners, everything, would just shower down from heaven on guys like this. They never had to scramble for work. They never had to worry.
Ever since Jace had spoken to his brother, the atmosphere had been different, but certainly hadn’t warmed up. It really left Trent at a loss for what to say, or even where to look. So he ended up staring out the window again, and then worried that Jace would think he was too stuck-up to talk.
Damn. Why was he so confused about what to do? Why was he so flustered?
But luckily the drive wasn’t interrupted by any more big disasters, and they made it to the cabin safely. “Can you take the groceries in?” asked Jace. He handed Trent the keys.
Trent agreed, glad for something to do. It wasn’t until he got in and set the bag down that he realized Jace hadn’t followed behind. Was he doing something with the truck?
It didn’t do to be too curious. He sure as hell didn’t want Jace to think he was trying to sneak a peek at him, although some part of his mind told him that was exactly what he wanted to do.
He put the cans and the jerky on their shelves. But what to do with the bag? He looked around for a recycling bin before realizing how ridiculous that was. So he just folded it up and set it on the shelf.
And then…there was nothing to do. Suddenly the afternoon and evening seemed to stretch out very long before him. No books. No internet. No anything. Plenty of time to sit and fret. He was going to drive himself crazy if he did that. He had to get out and walk around some. That always helped. And if Jace wanted to gripe about him straying from the cabin, then Jace could just come on the walk too.
Of course that meant figuring out where Jace was. Trent stood outside the cabin, shielding his eyes from the sun, looking around. He thought he saw some motion down the slope a bit, so he headed that way.
It was never quiet here, he’d realized, although it often seemed that way. The breeze was fairly strong in this clearing, but the way it buffeted the ears gave the illusion of silence by blocking out other sounds.
Trent felt very exposed in this quasi-silence. Jace was still nowhere to be seen. The truck was empty.
He was gripped by a sudden vision of Grumman’s men emerging from the woods, guns in hand. He pictured them like gangsters in old black and white movies, slick suits and small mustaches. It made him walk faster. He wanted to call out. That would be the easiest thing, just yell for Jace and see where he answered from. But there was that irrational fear that Grumman’s men would hear him if he yelled. He ended up walking even more quietly than usual.
When he heard splashing, he realized he was near the spring. That made sense. Jace had probably come down here to wash off after the tire change. Trent moved in that direction.
And stopped.
Jace was in the pond formed by the little spring. It wasn’t deep, only about thigh-high. His jeans and shirt were in a pile at the bank. He was completely naked in the water, facing away from Trent.
There was no question now of pretending not to stare. Trent stared.
Jace’s ass was as toned and muscular as his back. Trent studied the way his back tapered at the waist, at the triangle of muscle situated above and between those firm cheeks. It was a fascinating view to have of Jace; he seemed strong and vulnerable at the same time, totally unaware that he was being watched.
He bent and put his hands into the water. Trent watched his rippling flanks as Jace rubbed water into his face, and into his hair. He stood up quickly, and an arc of water followed, breaking into a million beads all catching the afternoon sun.
Trent's body responded without thought. He felt himself grow hard, felt the hardness pressing against these unfamiliar jeans. The thought of Jace seeing him occurred to Trent. If he was caught, then this vision would be over. He silently moved towards a stand of trees a few yards away, where he could watch from cover.
As his hand slipped into his pants, he willed Jace to turn around. He wanted to see the bodyguard in his entirety. Wanted to see how well-equipped he was. Trent slowly stroked himself, waiting and hoping, watching each flex of Jace’s bathing body.
Was this wrong? The question echoed in his thoughts as his hand stroked the length of his now-hard cock. It was too crowded in his pants now, and he was going to have to unzip in a second. But was all this wrong? He was invading Jace's privacy. Would Jace find that infuriating? Would he be flattered? The tension drove Trent to pull on his cock even harder. He unzipped with his other hand, freeing himself.
It was hard to imagine what sex with Jace might be like. No, that wasn’t true, it was easy to imagine, because Trent’s mind was full of the thought, so full there was no room for anything else. But he had so many questions. He had never been with someone like Jace. What would it be like, to rub his hands over muscles like that?
Were they hard? Did they have any give? Was Jace strong enough to just pick Trent up, press him against a tree, and go at him standing up?
Foolish thoughts, just fuel for the fire he felt inside. And he had to hurry. Jace was clearly finishing up his bath.
Trent’s thumb rubbed against the flare of his head, and he shuddered at the sensation. He half-wanted to close his eyes and continue the fantasy of Jace taking him here in the trees. But then Jace turned around.
He’d already seen Jace with no shirt. But now? He felt like he was going to explode. The water left trails down the hair of Jace’s chest and belly, winding down the ripples in his abdomen. The lines of his hips were so defined.
And he was hung. Trent’s mouth fell open, seeing it. His hand by reflex started moving faster and faster at the sight of Jace’s cock, swinging heavily as the man turned.
Then, at the very moment of Trent’s climax, when he couldn’t hold back one second more, when he felt the fire of his orgasm begin rising from his tight balls, right at that moment, Jace glanced up and spotted him.
9
It was so quiet during dinner that Trent could almost pretend nothing had happened. Part of his mind kept insisting that nothing had. If Jace had really, truly seen him, wouldn’t he have said something? It had clearly been a false impression. Jace had blindly looked his way, with water in his eyes. Something like that. Because it wasn’t as though their eyes had locked together. Jace looked his way, Trent slid down to the base of the tree, his cock pulsing and spurting, and then when he looked back, Jace had gotten out of the water, wrapped his shirt around his waist, and was already halfway back to the cabin.
When Trent had gotten back after washing his hands quickly in the spring, Jace had already toweled off and put on pajama bottoms and a tank top.
“Gone to look at more trees?” Jace had asked. His hair was a tousled mess.
“Uh, yeah,” said Trent, scratching at his collar where the rough shirt was rubbing against his skin.