“I would rather she didn’t break the law,” Travis growls.
“So would I, but like she told me this morning, sometimes you have to do something bad in order to achieve something good, and I happen to agree with her.” I stand watching their exchange. My heart warms from Jake’s defence. He hands me the coffee and folds his arms. “Are you done now?” he asks my brother with narrowed eyes, appearing ready to take Travis out at the slightest provocation.
“This is not Command Central,” barks a voice from our left.
We all turn. Houlihan is moving in on our huddle.
“Yeah we’re done,” Travis mutters quickly, already preparing to flee.
“Good,” Jake mutters back just as quickly. “Then we should go.”
“Now,” I hiss, leaving them behind in my rush. Houlihan is a shark. Those who get left behind in deeper waters will get eaten first. I’ve already enacted a break and enter early this morning and survived two attempts on my life today, the first with Jake and then with Casey and my brothers. I’m not planning on a third.
MAC
Weeks after Casey and Grace’s accident, I find myself back at the Florence Bar, this time inside their private function room. I’m hosting a surprise retirement celebration for my father. It’s due to kick off in fifteen minutes, but my mind is still on my two friends.
We received the news weeks ago that Grace has cancer. She was supposed to be undergoing treatment but instead she chose to be here with us, and with Henry, spending time with family. The news was a huge blow to all of us, a reminder that there are some things we can’t protect those we love from, and that life can be utterly, sadistically cruel.
Henry is suffering. Their mother died from breast cancer, and now Grace has the same disease. She didn’t want him to know. Her plan was to battle through on her own, but that’s not how we work.
The news came at the same time Casey’s brother, Kelly, came to light. Kelly is a member of the Sentinels biker gang, and the brother that Casey had feared dead for many, many years. It turns out Morgan is a member too, the very detective that had been giving Casey such a hard time. They ended up arresting her for attempted murder. She was the one causing trouble for the both of them all along. When Kelly found out her plan to remove Grace, he kept Grace safe, though he could have gone about it in a better way.
At least there were no casualties in his plan, apart from Grace giving Morgan a bloodied nose. Thoroughly justified. But now Casey has another battle on his hands, and it’s one he can’t fight with fists or guns. There’s no weapon in the war against cancer.
My heart heavy, I walk to the bar to arrange a congratulatory scotch whiskey for Eli, having spied him making an early entrance to the party. My dad, Chief Inspector Valentine, stepped down a week ago leaving the safety of Sydney’s population in the hands of Elijah Rossiter. Eli will be the youngest Chief Inspector our city has ever seen.
It makes him a big hairy deal in the policing world, and he smiles warmly as I take the drink and stride toward him in my gold Jimmy Choo’s and a strapless dress that clings to every inch of skin.
“Inspector Rossiter,” I say teasingly when I reach his side, holding out my right hand. His hair is slicked back, his tuxedo sleek, and his confident presence fills the room. “Congratulations.”
“Ms. Mackenzie Valentine,” Eli replies, his light blue eyes crinkling at the corners. He takes my hand and leans in, kissing my cheek. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” I say, handing him the glass. It’s Glengoyne, aged seventy-five years apparently. It cost me my left tit, so I’m hoping he appreciates it. “You’re practically family, Eli. And you know how Dad loves to talk business at these parties. You’re the best at deflecting him.”
“True,” he replies ruefully and scans the party, noting the slow-filling room. “Am I early?”
“Of course not. Everyone else is simply late. As usual.”
“Rude of them.” His chuckle is slow, eyes lifting to mine as he takes a sip. Eli sighs deep with appreciation after swallowing and gives me a wink. “But then I wouldn’t get you to myself if they weren’t.”
I dismiss his comment, used to Eli’s teasing. “As host of the party, I’m afraid you won’t have me for long.”
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t stay long either, but …” he reaches inside the pocket of his perfectly cut jacket and pulls out a business card, offering it toward me between two fingers “…here’s my new business card. I have a new private number. If you ever need anything, anything at all,” he stresses, “use it. Okay?”
There’s the brotherly attitude I know. I laugh as I look at the white card and turn it over in my fingers. It’s thick and matte, the font in perfect, simple lettering. It suits him. “Sure. Next time I find myself in lockup and need bailing out, I’ll call you.”
His brow furrows in an expression of severity. “I don’t want to hear about you doing anything that requires being arrested. If you do, I’ll leave you in there until you learn your lesson.”
Eli’s tone is utterly serious. I cock my head. “You would?”
“You’re a Valentine, Mackenzie. And the Valentines are held in high regard in this city, including you. And I know you would never do anything to besmirch the family name, especially not get arrested.”
“Eli …” I trail off, taken aback as I think of every reckless thing me and my brothers have done over the years. We’ve literally dragged the Valentine name through the mud so many times I’m pretty sure it’s entombed there for all eternity.
Elijah’s booming laugh fills the room.
“Oh my god!” I flick him on the arm with the business card in my hand. “Eli! For a minute I thought you were serious.”
His grin disappears. “I am serious.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You are not.”
Mitch arrives through the back entry in his own tuxedo and catches my attention. His appearance is remarkable, though I’m sure he knows it. My eldest brother has a presence that commands the room and sharp eyes that stick you like a pin, but tonight they’re dark and weary and his movements are sluggish. Mitch is tired from working overtime. I’ve hardly seen him in months. I point his way, knowing he could use his best friend right now. “Go and harass my brother. He’s the one who deserves it, not me.”
Eli gives me a casual salute with the hand that holds his scotch and turns to leave, saying, “Thanks for the drink.”
“Wait.” I grab his arm, halting him as an idea hits me.
His brows rise in question.
“I do need something.” And it’s a risk bringing it to the attention of the newly appointed Chief Inspector, but it’s a risk I feel will pay off. I can trust Eli. I know it just as I know the sun will rise tomorrow, so I speak my mind, and the truth. “I have a case.”
He blinks. “You have a case.”
I nod firmly. Convincingly. “Yes. With Jamieson and Valentine Consulting.”
This time his brows don’t just rise, they shoot up so fast they almost fly off his face. Eli doesn’t usually give much away, but it seems he can’t contain the surprise this particular news has on him. “You’re working for them now?”
“Unofficially. But you have to keep this between us for now, okay? I can trust you right?”
He huffs and rolls his eyes as if my question insults him. “Of course you can trust me.” He leans in a little and I relax. Already, he understands my need for discretion. “Tell me about this case.”
“It’s drug related.” Eli, having graduated alongside Mitch from Charles Sturt University, climbed the ranks of the narcotics division while my eldest brother busied himself with homicide. If anyone can help me with this case, it’s Inspector Elijah Rossiter.
“Drug related, you say?” He looks at me closely, his interest piqued.
“Yes.” I’ve managed to skim-read the file I lifted from the office. The contents include background information on four criminals and their potential tie
s to a high-threat drug syndicate. The request memorandum was simply to pad the file with further information for Operation Strike, a multi-pronged investigation that’s working to tackle the effects of ICE in Australia.
Already, I’m in over my head. What kind of padding do they need? Is the firm simply required to hand over any and all information pertaining to the four criminals that they already have on file, or perform some kind of surveillance?
“What do they need?”
After a quick glance around to ensure privacy, I lower my voice. “Something to do with Operation Strike.”
“Mac.” Eli’s jaw hardens. “That’s a dangerous and extremely covert operation. I don’t think—”
“Eli,” I hiss as he downs a mouthful of expensive scotch. “I can handle dangerous. I just need some direction. And you said you’d help me with anything at all,” I remind him.
I expect anger for putting him in this position, but instead he smiles tightly as though he knows arguing with me is useless. Which it is. “Okay. I’ll help you. On one condition.”
I’m so grateful at this point, I’m willing to offer him whatever he wants. “Anything.”
“Lunch,” he says. “It’s been so long since we caught up with each other. I want to know what’s going on with you. And there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I nod. I can do lunch. Easy. “Lunch sounds perfect. I’ll bring the file?”
“Please,” he replies, then looks toward Mitch. Jared has since joined him and they’re both deep in conversation as they walk away from the bar, drinks in hand. “Can I go now?”
“You can go,” I say imperiously.
He grins and shakes his head, walking away.
I make my own way to the bar. After handling a few issues, I phone Travis when I notice he’s yet to arrive. My other brother is late. Again. It’s unacceptable. I place a call. He’s driving and I’m placed on speaker while Quinn convinces me they’re only five minutes away (which likely means they only just left). I end the call and return my phone to my clutch then tuck it on the bottom shelf behind the bar. I won’t need it for the rest of the night.
When I straighten, Jake is behind the bar with me, appearing like a sexy magician. “You look beautiful,” he tells me, inspecting me thoroughly.
“Thank you. You look…” my eyes run over his black collared shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black pants “…good enough to eat.”
His lips curve. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Jake’s question makes me pause. That’s it. That’s all it takes. One suggestive comment and I’ve lost my mind. But I’m the host. I can’t just run off like we usually do for a random sex session.
You can! my vagina cries recklessly. Don’t leave me hanging here!
I compromise because I find saying no impossible. “Give me an hour.”
JAKE
I give her the hour. Right down to the second. Then I have her arm in mine and I’m leading her out the back door. You have to be forceful and decisive when it comes to Mac. She responds to it, like I’m the sun and she’s a flower unfurling beneath it. That analogy makes me sound like a dick, but it’s how I feel. How she makes me feel.
The time for contemplating my next move is over. Now it’s time to implement it. Grace and Casey’s accident helped make my decision. Life is too short. And I’m a selfish bastard. Impatient too. The emotion burns hot enough that some days I fear I’ll choke on it. If Mac needs time to heal, she can spend that time healing with me.
“Where are we going?” she asks as I rush her outside. She’s trotting beside me in her high heels and slinky dress. Good. Her struggle to keep up will give her no time to think. “And where’s the fire?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” is my brief reply. I pull the car keys from my pocket and lead her to my Dodge Charger. “Get in,” I command after unlocking the car and opening her door. She slides in, pulling the sleek material of her long dress around her ankles so it doesn’t catch when I close the door behind her.
I walk around the car and hop in the driver’s side. We leave the venue behind as I pull out into evening traffic. It’s not until I turn down the street of her family home that she speaks. “Why are we going to my parents’ house?”
“I told you to wait and see.”
“I’m not a wait and see kind of person.” She folds her arms. “I like to know where I’m going and who’s going to be there and what we’re doing,” Mac says as I park in the driveway. “And why,” she adds.
I turn off the ignition and look at her, my grin wry. Of course she does. That’s my girl, and I wouldn’t change her for anything. “Do you trust me?”
Her eyebrows pull inward, like I’ve presented her with a Rubik’s cube. “I used to once. A long time ago,” Mac says with darkened eyes. “I trusted you with my life.”
I’m careful to keep my voice steady. “And now?”
“Jake, I …” Mac’s gaze drops to her lap as if it holds all the answers.
“Look at me,” I demand.
Her eyes rise. We stare at each other, the space between us heavy. “I do,” she says with some surprise. “I trust you.”
Her declaration is all I need to hear. I get out of the car and walk around to open her door. Mac steps out, taking my hand. I shut the door and rather than lead her toward the house, I lead her down the street. We walk along the road heading toward Mort Bay Park by the harbour.
When I find the right spot, I stop, and she stops with me.
“The last time we stood here together,” I begin.
“Was the day I asked you to stay.” Mac’s chin rises. “And yet you left anyway.”
I breathe deep and take both her hands in mine. “Are you bitter?”
Of course she is. Mac’s eyes hold pain and regret beneath the glow of the streetlight. They answer my question better than any words can.
“If I could go back and change it I would, but I can’t,” I say. “Neither of us can.” The air gusting between us stills and makes the thumping of my heart feel louder and stronger. “Are your memories of that day really that bad?”
Her cheeks warm, and I know she’s remembering our first kiss. Nothing had ever felt more awkward or beautiful. It was the start of a love affair so turbulent and wild, there are days where I’m not sure I’ll survive it. But I don’t care. I’ll go down loving Mackenzie Valentine until the day I die.
“No, Jake, they’re not bad. My memories of that day are bittersweet. I look back and see two young kids on a collision course, and I want to yell at them and tell them to … to …”
My chest tightens with anticipation. Mac is opening up her heart. It’s rare and I find myself hanging on her words like each is a precious gem. “To what?”
“To never let go.” Her breath catches and her eyes fill. “To stay in that moment forever because it’s the most perfect one you will ever have.”
“That’s why we’re here,” I say with a galloping heart. I release her right hand and tug the small box from my pocket. With it clutched in my fist, I drop to one knee.
A harsh sob escapes Mac’s chest and her hand quivers in mine. When I’m steady, I look up. Emotion is rich in her wide eyes.
“Because it’s time we let go of the past and move forward together. We can create a new perfect moment, right here, where we made our first. You know I love you, Mac. You’ve always been mine. Does that make me a selfish bastard for wanting the world to know?” I fumble a little as I open the ring box. We’re in the perfect spot because illumination from the streetlight sets the square-cut diamond beaming brighter than the sun. “Marry me, Princess.”
She blinks and stares. Mac is speechless. It gives me the urge to whip out my phone and snap a photo for the future. I could show everyone the one time where Mac didn’t have a witty comeback. But I don’t because it will ruin the moment.
“Say yes,” I instruct, squeezing her hand, “and I’ll let you have the last word.”
“I alwa
ys get the last word anyway.” Mac is trying for flippant, but she doesn’t pull it off. Her voice is choked with too much emotion.
MAC
I want to say yes. More than my next breath. But I’m not ready. I’m not ready to create a new perfect moment only to sit back and watch us fall apart all over again. It destroyed me once. Next time it will put me in the ground. And there will be a next time. Of course there will be. I feel it deep in my bones. This is me and Jake we’re talking about. The two of us were destined for disaster the moment I splattered spaghetti sauce down the front of his shirt and stomped up the stairs in a childish girly tantrum.
“Mac.” Jake’s voice cracks, and he squeezes my hand a second time.
I’m giving him nothing. It’s unfair. It makes me feel like the bitch I’m touted to be.
“Please,” he begs.
“Yes,” I blurt out, because I’m hurting him and hurting him hurts me. “Yes.”
Jake exhales a breath of relief. He rises to his feet and looks at me, his eyes alight. Then they drop to the task of pulling the ring from the box. He does it with trembling fingers, and the sight makes my heart squeeze. When it’s free, he takes my ring finger and slides it on, his gaze on me and his grin boyish.
I love him. I love Jake Romero from the base of my toes to the very tips of my fingers. He deserves all of me, but I can’t give it. And I hate myself for it.
The ring feels snug. I look down, spreading my fingers as I stare. The diamond is huge. I adore it. It rests there like a weapon. A primed fist with this baby on the end of it would cause more damage than Superman on steroids. But it’s supposed to represent so much more. A future. Is that even possible for us?
“What do you think?”
My eyes shift from the ring to Jake. His expression is hopeful, and he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think it’s incredibly beautiful.”
His boyish grin morphs into a blinding laugh. He hugs me and picks me up swirling me around in his big, powerful arms. Jake’s enthusiasm is infectious. I’ve never seen him happier and it lifts my soul. An enormous smile overtakes my face.
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