Bad Behavior [Confuct Series #2]

by Jennifer Lane

  He slowly leaned forward, nudging her nose with his and resting his soft lips tantalizingly close to hers, breathing her faint floral scent. Her arms had wrapped around him, and his hands caressed her silky hair as they held each other, completely still. Finally they joined their lips in a deep, slow-burning kiss.

  “We’re okay, Bonnie,” he repeated, pressing his lips into hers again and lowering his arms to guide her body closer, flush to his hardness.

  Sophie closed her eyes, sensing her body melting into his strong, steady hold. She felt the warmth radiating off his skin and the scratchy stubbles on his chin and upper lip. They’d navigated through stormy seas, threatening to capsize more than once, but McSailor had plotted a magnificent course. He would not steer them astray.

  “The man guarding you,” Grant hesitatingly asked. “What was he like?”

  “Well, I was blindfolded, but he seemed huge. Big and stupid…and creepy.”

  Grant’s face clouded. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

  “No. They checked me out at the hospital.”

  Grant exhaled and she added, “I tried to align with him, to make him look at me as a person and not as an object.”

  “Did he speak to you?”

  “He said they wouldn’t hurt me, but they had to hold me there to motivate somebody to do a job.”

  His jaw clenched. “It worked.”

  “What happened when they took you away?” Sophie asked.

  “Well, first they brought me to see my father.”

  “Oh, no! You had to go back there? You must have been devastated when they screwed up your plan.”

  “At first I was. But then I remembered I was wired, and I figured out my dad was going to have me make the drop with Jovanovich’s people, so I decided it might be an even better way to prove what he was up to.”

  “How’d you figure that out?”

  Grant looked distressed. “I guess I know my dad better than I thought I did.”

  “Remember what Hunter showed you? You’re nothing like your father.”

  Taking a deep breath, Grant nodded. He averted his eyes and seemed distracted.

  “Tank and Mario—they held me in a warehouse. It was…the same warehouse where they killed Logan.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, rubbing her hand over his shoulder.

  Grant looked down, picking at the bandages on his wrists. “I miss him. I miss my brother.”

  Sophie halted her rubbing motion, trying to find the right words. “In a weird way, Logan brought us together,” she finally said.

  Grant raised his eyes to meet hers. “I guess you’re right.” Her fingers grazed his cheekbone, and he reached up to capture her hand in his. “I’m so grateful to Logan for bringing you into my life.”

  Her eyes shone with affection, and she leaned in to kiss him once again.

  “All right, cons.” Jerry breezed into the interrogation room. “Break it up already.”

  Grant and Sophie looked up to find Jerry and Marilyn just inside the doorway. Jerry’s expression was stern as usual, but Marilyn sported a huge grin.

  “I’m having a total blast watching them interrogate Barberi goons,” she said.

  Jerry smirked. “I think she likes the perks of her job just a tad too much.”

  Her green eyes sparkled. “Grant, your recommendation to lean on Mario was spot on. When the FBI explained that his cooperation would prevent him from serving time in Gurnee, he sang like bird.”

  “A big, fat, meaty bird,” Jerry added.

  “Tank won’t be so lucky,” Marilyn continued. “They got all they needed from Mario, so he wasn’t given a deal. Tank’s quaking in his boots.”

  “They’re really scared of being inside with my father, huh?” Grant asked.

  “I don’t think Tank is long for this world,” Marilyn said. “Not now that Enzo knows he had a hand in killing his son.”

  “But Tank doesn’t know Enzo knows,” Grant said.

  Jerry gave a grim look. “He will soon.” Changing the subject, he added, “So, I hear they asked you to join the FBI?”

  “What?” Sophie stared at Grant, startled.

  “Yes, sir. I said I’d think about it.”

  “You won’t be the first con working for the other side,” Jerry said.

  Sophie absorbed this information, nodding slowly. “You might get along quite well with FBI agents, Grant,” she said. “The MMPI personality profiles of criminals and police officers aren’t all that different, actually.”

  Jerry shook his head, disgusted. “Jesus, Taylor, enough with the psychobabble! Now that I might be done with you, I’m praying I don’t get another shrink parolee before I retire.”

  “Excuse me, sir, did you just say Sophie might be done with her parole?”

  Jerry narrowed his eyes. “Apparently the state attorney’s talking to the prosecutor, exploring ways to get your convictions vacated in exchange for your help. And if that doesn’t work, I doubt the governor will have a problem pardoning you both. How you managed to con the legal system, I’ll never know.”

  Sophie grabbed Grant in a gleeful hug.

  “We’ll be free,” he murmured, squeezing her tight.

  Jerry coughed uncomfortably. “For now you’re still on parole, though. And if this works, you should still stop by and visit me sometime, uh, you know—to make it look legit.”

  Sophie grinned knowingly, snuggling into the nook of her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Oh, yes. We’ll definitely visit you, Jerry—to keep up the ruse and everything.”

  “Does this mean we won’t have to go to therapy anymore?” Grant asked hopefully.

  Sophie looked up at him warily.

  “It wouldn’t be mandated any longer if your convictions are set aside,” Jerry replied, “but I think you two nut jobs still need it.”

  Tapping a finger to her chin, Sophie mused, “Maybe you should go to therapy too, Jerry, to work on your excessive irritability.”

  Grant grinned, and Sophie continued, “Or how about you and Marilyn get some couples counseling? I’m sure she could use some help, dating you.”

  Marilyn giggled and Jerry scowled.

  Turning to Grant, Sophie suggested, “We should at least say goodbye to Hunter before we terminate counseling. It’s wise to go through that process, reviewing what did and didn’t work, what we learned, what’s left to work on… You know, to gain some closure.”

  Jerry shook his head slowly, sending an exasperated look at Grant. “She’s killing me.” He squeezed Marilyn’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Mar. My head hurts from listening to all this shrink-speak.”

  Marilyn beamed at the couple. “I’m so glad you’re both okay. We’ll be in touch.”

  As they departed, Jerry tossed over his shoulder: “Come see me Wednesday morning, you two. And don’t be late!”

  Left alone, Grant drew Sophie nearer. “Don’t worry about his teasing—I find it interesting to learn about all the therapy stuff. We’ll talk more about whether or not to keep seeing Dr. Hayes, okay?”

  She nodded gratefully, and he planted a tender kiss on her lips.

  “One thing I know for sure, Sophie…I definitely don’t want to terminate with you.”

  He felt her lips curl into a grin as they pressed against his mouth for another kiss.

  Freedom awaited them. McSailor and Bonnie would be free!

  27. Congratulations

  Hunter couldn’t stop staring at Grant’s bandaged wrists. The three had just sat down in his office, and Grant appeared predictably nervous. Sophie, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement.

  “We have so much to tell you, Hunter,” she gushed.

  “Really?” His wary eyes swept over the couple. “Did something bad happen to Grant?”

  Sophie looked puzzled by his cautious tone. “Well, yes. Something bad happened to both of us.”

  “Both of you?” He swallowed, his mind racing. “Are you hurt too?”

  She shrugged. “It was just s
ome sort of sedative overdose. The doctors cleared me pretty quickly at the hospital.”

  Grant added, “And I’m fine too.”

  Hunter sternly sat back in his chair, folding his hands in a little tent in front of his chin. “You’re both being rather cavalier about this, aren’t you?”

  Sophie and Grant exchanged bewildered glances. “What do you mean, sir?”

  “What do I mean?” Hunter’s voice rose. “You attempt suicide, and then you dare to tell me you’re fine?”

  Sophie just looked confused, but Hunter stared straight at her and continued his onslaught. “I don’t think you overdosing on drugs”—he turned and glared at Grant—“or you slicing your wrists open, is not fine at all. You two better start explaining what the hell’s going on.”

  Hunter finished his lecture, and Sophie and Grant suddenly burst out laughing, wildly shaking their heads.

  Sophie pointed to Grant’s wrists. “You thought his wounds were self-inflicted?” She chortled gaily. “They’re not. Hunter, I assure you, Grant’s quite mentally stable.” Giving her boyfriend a coy sideways glance, she added, “Well, stable for him, anyway.”

  “Watch it, Bonnie,” Grant warned.

  “And I didn’t try to off myself either, I promise,” Sophie resumed. “I’m in such a great mood right now, I’d never even think about that.”

  Now it was Hunter’s turn to be confused. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” he said, his face a little flushed. “It’s just that I know how much trauma you’ve both endured. What was I supposed to think?”

  “Yeah,” Sophie mused. “I guess when you see wrist bandages on a psychotherapy client, it’s easy to assume the worst.”

  “How did you hurt yourself, Grant?”

  “It’s kind of a long story, sir.”

  “You heard about Darko Jovanovich withdrawing from the race, right?” Sophie offered.

  Hunter scoffed. “How could I miss it? It’s been plastered all over the news for days! I can’t believe he just dropped out of the race at the last minute—there’s absolutely no ethics left in politics these days…” His voice trailed off, and he gave the couple a wide-eyed stare. “Oh my God, you were involved in that?”

  Sophie nodded vigorously.

  Grant explained. “My father tried to buy his way out of prison by financing Jovanovich’s election campaign. He was expecting a pardon in return.”

  Hunter looked incredulous, scooting to the edge of his seat. “Why didn’t the media name your family in this mess?”

  “Several reasons,” Grant answered. “They couldn’t prove Jovanovich knew about the money exchange since he wasn’t in the room, but they had enough on him to make him withdraw from the race. And that worked out for us since a public trial would expose our involvement in busting up his plan, putting us and Ben at risk.”

  “You broke up his plan?”

  Sophie cut in, “Hunter, this is confidential, right?”

  “Of course, Sophie. You know that.”

  Receiving Sophie’s nod of approval to go on, Grant continued, “When we figured out how my dad would get out of prison, Detective Fox connected us with a corruption task force. The plan was for me to go back inside Gurnee, wired, to get my dad to confess what he was up to.”

  Hunter looked appalled.

  Sophie shrugged guiltily. “Grant was the one who figured it out. I just stood around and did nothing.”

  “That’s not true!” Grant insisted. “Where do you think I got the idea of wearing a wire in the first place?”

  She stared at him blankly.

  “From you!” Grant exclaimed. “I got that idea from your revenge against David Alton. When you and Tanya cooked up that plan for Nora to secretly record her conversation with him, I thought it was brilliant.”

  A bright smile dawned on her face. “So I did help you?”

  He squeezed her hand warmly. “You have no idea how much, Sophie.”

  Grant turned his attention back to Hunter and slowly explained the rest of the story.

  Hunter blinked several times, trying to take it all in. “Wow, you won’t get the opportunity to confront your father about this, though, since your involvement is secret.”

  Sophie took on a fierce look. “I wish Grant could shove it in his face.”

  Grant bit his lip. “I’d rather keep us safe. Besides, gloating about the victory is something my father would do, and I don’t want to be like my father.” His jaw clenched. “I’m not like him.”

  “No, you’re not,” Hunter agreed and looked at Sophie. “I’m so grateful Ben knew where to find you.”

  “Dr. Hayes?” Grant hesitantly glanced up. “Do you, um, see teenagers? I think Ben needs therapy too—he’s been through a lot.”

  “How old is he again?” Hunter asked.

  “Sixteen.”

  “I could see him. I’m not trained in child therapy, but I’ve worked with a number of adolescents.” He smiled. “They can be quite a challenge.”

  Grant grinned. “You’ll be earning your fee when you see him, that’s for sure. Thank you, sir.”

  Hunter nodded.

  “Ben did great, but he wasn’t the only one,” Sophie added proudly. “The FBI said Grant was extremely cool under pressure.”

  “It’s because of you, Dr. Hayes,” Grant added.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, sir.” Color rose to his cheeks. “I never could’ve made it through all that if I hadn’t been in therapy. They blindfolded me, they held a gun on me, they threw me in the trunk of the car—”

  “They did?” Sophie asked, alarmed.

  Grant placed a calming hand on her forearm and continued gazing appreciatively at his psychologist. “But I used the grounding strategies you taught me, and I didn’t dissociate once. I want to thank you, Dr. Hayes.”

  Hunter looked into those expressive blue eyes, earnest and yearning, and noticed his feelings toward Grant were undergoing a change. While nobody could deny that Grant continued to exude pure sexiness, Hunter no longer felt the hot spark of physical attraction. It was a warm fondness that filled Hunter now. Witnessing all the pain Grant carried, experiencing the honor of trying to help him through that pain, observing the fathomless love he shared with Sophie—Hunter found himself feeling more paternal toward Grant than anything else. Though he was only about ten years older than his client, he was immensely proud of Grant and wanted good things for the young man, just as a father would.

  “You’re very welcome, Grant,” Hunter responded with a faint smile. “You’ve worked quite hard to arrive at this spot.”

  “And he hasn’t told you about his potential new job yet, either,” Sophie announced. “He did so well that the FBI offered him a position.”

  “That’s great! Special Agent Madsen, huh? I could totally picture you in that job.”

  “You could?” Grant asked, looking pleased.

  “Absolutely. You know, though, it seemed like you were enjoying the singing gig too. You’ll probably miss that.”

  “Actually,” Grant said with a smile, “I’m going to keep singing at Mr. Remington’s bar. ‘Lounge singer’ will be a nice cover for my day job.” He glanced at Sophie. “We don’t want my family knowing I’m on the other side now—it might be dangerous.”

  Hunter nodded. “That makes sense. So you’ll still have women buying you drinks every night then, huh?”

  Noticing her psychologist’s wink, Sophie countered, “They better not.”

  “Don’t worry, Sophie. If you survived my family, surely you can take on a few middle-aged women,” Grant joked. “Though you’re going to be busy too,” he glanced at Hunter, “since she’ll likely be offered an assistant professor position at DePaul.”

  “Congratulations!” Hunter looked quite pleased. “You two will be busy indeed between working full-time jobs, keeping tabs on Ben, attending your parole appointments—”

  “That’s the best part of all of this, Hunter,” Sophie said. “Because Grant helped the gove
rnment so much, and after learning more about the circumstances of the crimes we were charged with, they agreed to move to set aside our convictions. They’re working on the final details now, so we won’t be on parole anymore.”

  “Wow, that must’ve killed Officer Stone, huh?”

  Sophie laughed. “You know him well. We promised we’d still visit him, though.”

  “Does that mean you’re finished with couples counseling too?”

  Having expected this question, Sophie glanced uneasily at Grant. “We’re not really sure. You’ve helped us a lot, Hunter, and we’re doing great right now. Do you think we should continue?”

  He sat back in his chair, studying them. “Hmm. There’s probably more to work on in here, but if you wanted to take a break, that’d be okay with me. But I don’t think it’s my decision to make. How do you feel about it?”

  Sophie appeared pensive. “Well, I know counseling’s been painful at times for Grant, but I don’t think I’m ready to end it. This is my first romantic relationship that’s really surviving—thriving even—and I don’t want to mess it up. So I guess I’d prefer to keep coming.” She looked at her boyfriend. “What do you want to do, Grant?”

  “Hold it,” Hunter interrupted, marveling at Sophie. “That was beautiful!”

  She appeared startled. “What?”

  “Do you realize how far you’ve come, Sophie? What you just said? You weren’t engaging in caretaking at all. You weren’t enmeshing yourself with Grant’s needs. You directly and respectfully shared your feelings, not apologizing for them or making assumptions about what your partner wanted. You were behaving interdependently, bringing the man you love closer by sharing your inner thoughts and feelings, but also making it okay for there to be disagreements, because you know you can communicate effectively to resolve conflict.”

  “I did?” Sophie looked surprised.

  “Well done,” Hunter murmured approvingly. “So, Grant, what do you think? How do you feel about continuing couples counseling?”

  Instantly Grant’s anxiety seemed to amp up, and Hunter curiously watched him take a shaky breath. “Well, um, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, Dr. Hayes. And, I…I have a question to ask first that might clear this up.”