Verity pulled a copy of the satellite photo she’d found online out of her purse and slid it across the table. Jake didn’t even glance at it.
“A reasonable assumption,” he said. “But how do you know the place is empty?”
“Because my brother said it was.” He didn’t look convinced, so she decided to try another way. “The letter was postmarked in Mississippi, and Roman said he and his business partners wouldn’t be at that address until next week.”
“Is that right?” Jake arched a brow.
“It is,” she went on as if his skepticism didn’t bother her. “So, I was hoping that we could get to it this week, while he wasn’t expecting us and steal it back. Then all we would have to do is crate the artifacts up and anonymously send them back to the National Gallery in Kabul.”
“Us? We?” he asked with a dark laugh. “Lady, I’m still not even sure how you know my name.”
“I guess that Roman had an attack of conscience before he sent me the letter because he scribbled a note on the back,” she explained. “It said that if anything went wrong, and I mean anything, then I needed to find you at Macmillan Security and ask for your help. He said not to go to anyone else. Only you.”
The first real spark of curiosity shone in Jake’s eyes. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know,” Verity answered honestly. “I can only guess that Roman has a higher opinion of you than you do of him.”
“I doubt it,” he said, leaning closer. “But none of this explains what you’re doing here. Nothing’s gone wrong.”
Nothing?
“I would call finding out my brother was a smuggler and a thief pretty major,” Verity shot back. “Besides, I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m doing is dangerous. I figured in this situation it was smarter to ask for help before I needed it, not after.”
Apparently, Jake disagreed with her, because he relaxed back into the booth. “You won’t be in any danger once you climb on a plane back to Michigan.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Verity said, wishing she could make her voice sound as strong as her resolve. “Not until I’m done here.”
Jake turned his head to the side, and stretched his arm out on the back of his bench. “Listen, lady, you seem nice. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
Nice. Innocent.
Those qualities weren’t making him listen. The time had come to try something else.
Verity lifted her glass to her lips and felt the sting of burning hot alcohol wash over her tongue. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cough and sputter as she forced the whisky down her throat.
The drink was a hell of a lot stronger than she was used to, but it did the trick, slapping her across the face. When she opened her eyes again, Jake’s gaze was back on her. But this time she had the courage to meet his stare.
“Stop calling me lady,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I told you my name is Verity.”
A long beat passed between them.
“All right,” he said slowly. “Verity, I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. You’re in over your head on this one.”
No shit.
“Why do you think I came all this way to find you?”
“Some kind of death wish?” he answered. There was no humor in his voice.
Verity bit into her bottom lip. Maybe she was going about this all the wrong way.
“I’m not asking as a favor on my brother’s good name.” Obviously, that wouldn’t get her very far. “I have money. I can pay for your protection.”
Jake’s eyes turned dark. He held her gaze for a long moment, as he picked up his glass and downed it all in one swallow.
“I don’t give a damn about your money,” he said. “And you don’t want my protection, trust me.”
Apparently, she’d hit a sore spot. The man might be as big and scary as a grizzly bear, but he was obviously in pain. Usually, she would have felt bad for him, but right now she had her own troubles.
“But Roman said—”
“Screw what Roman said.” His eyes narrowed. “How the hell did you find me anyway? Nobody knows I’m here.”
“That isn’t true,” Verity said, shaking her head. “The girl in your San Francisco office knew exactly where you would be.”
“The girl?” Jake asked, before his eyes widened in understanding. “Ah, let me guess, about yea-tall, bright red hair?”
“It was more of a copper color,” Verity corrected him. She went to pull the business card that the woman had given her out of her pocket. “Her name was—”
“Charlie.” He shook his head as he said the woman’s name. “I should have known.”
“She said you were on vacation, but that for the last few weeks you’d spent every night in this bar.”
Jake closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “She’s probably been tracking my phone.”
“She can do that?”
“Charlie can do just about anything you can imagine,” he said with a sigh.
Verity’s brows drew together. “But why would she?”
“To torment me.” A dark grimace twisted his lips. “See, I almost got her killed a couple of months ago.”
“Excuse me?” Verity’s brows shot up.
Jake’s lips flattened as he reached up to the neck of his shirt and pulled the material down, exposing a ragged, round scar just south of his collarbone. Verity swallowed down hard at the sight.
“We were shot,” Jake said, his voice growing tighter. “I let down my guard for a second, and I paid the price. That’s on me. But when I went down I wasn’t there to protect Charlie. She took two bullets in the chest. I took three.”
Verity shook her head. “I’m sure it wasn’t your—”
“That wasn’t all. My best friend’s girl got kidnapped because of my mistake. I put both of their lives in danger too. Not to mention letting everyone I work with down.” He reached across the table and snatched up what was left of Verity’s whisky. “So, no. I’m not here on any vacation. And I’m damned sure I’m the last person you want protecting you.”
He drained her drink and slammed the glass down on the table. Verity’s mouth hung open, but no words came out. She sat stunned by the force of his words.
It took Verity a second to notice that the mood of the bar had changed. That a hush had fallen over the place. There were a lot of faces turned their way. Jake didn’t seem to care, but Verity scooted deeper into the shadows of the booth, waiting for people’s curiosity to fade.
But it was too late. A man in a black leather jacket was already headed their way. Jake didn’t move as he stopped by their side and propped his beefy fists on the table. Verity tucked her cardigan tighter across her chest as the man’s gaze swept her up and down.
“This guy giving you trouble, miss?” the stranger asked.
“I’m okay. Thanks,” Verity said, keeping her head down. “We were just talking.”
“How about you?” the man said, turning toward Jake. “She giving you grief, brother? Because I’d be more than happy to take this tasty thing off your hands if she’s too much for you.”
“Walk away,” Jake said, his voice low.
The man straightened his back. “Come again.”
“Turn around and walk away,” Jake said, still staring straight ahead.
“And if I don’t?” the stranger asked with a laugh.
Verity sucked in a breath as Jake slowly stood up. The man was menacing enough while seated, but standing he was a force to be reckoned with. He was well over six feet, and every inch of him as brawny as his arms.
Her eyes were drawn to the back pocket of his jeans. The corner of a flat plastic card was sticking out of the top. Verity could just make out the word Motel at the top.
Interesting.
And she wasn’t just talking about his tight rear end.
Verity felt a coil of tension that had nothing to do with fear tighten in her core.
Whoa. Where had that come from?
It was undeniable that Jake Thorne was attractive in a hyper-masculine sort of way. And sure, there was something about all his muscles and rough looks that woke a deeply buried primal urge deep inside her, but this really wasn’t the time to explore it.
“You don’t want this fight,” Jake said, looking down at the man.
Verity wasn’t sure Jake didn’t though. It almost looked like he was itching for a brawl.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” the other man said. Beads of sweat showed on his brow, but for reasons Verity didn’t understand, he didn’t back down. It had to be pride. Wasn’t that what usually made men battle like savages?
Verity’s gaze swept across the bar. Everyone’s eyes were glued on the men and the promise of an imminent fight, but no one looked ready to jump in and stop it. And since she really didn’t want to spend the rest of the night figuring out how to bail Jake out of jail, it looked like it was up to her to keep these two guys from going at each other like a couple of barnyard cocks.
She gathered up her phone and Roman’s letter as quickly as she could and stuffed them inside her bag. She slung it over her shoulder as she jumped out of the booth and went over to Jake’s side. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around his forearm.
Damn, he felt solid.
“Maybe we should continue our conversation somewhere else,” she tried.
Jake didn’t turn toward her, but his muscles tightened under her touch. It was all she could do to keep breathing through the tension.
Eventually, Jake nodded.
Thank God. She might get out of this place alive after all.
Verity held tight to his arm as she started toward the door. She kept her head down, doing her best to ignore all the stares.
“Have fun, buddy,” the man called out when they were a few steps away. “Just be sure to bring the whore back for the rest of us, once you’re done with her.”
Verity felt Jake tense just before he stopped. She tugged on his arm harder, but he didn’t budge.
“Come on,” she whispered. “I don’t care what he calls me. I swear.”
“But I do,” Jake said.
He pulled away from her easily as he turned around. It only took him a couple of long steps to stride back to the stranger.
Verity knew she should look away, but for some reason, she couldn’t. She was just as transfixed as the rest of the crowd.
She flinched as the guy threw a punch at Jake’s face. It never connected. Jake caught the fist in his left hand and held tight.
Faster than Verity could blink, Jake landed a hard hit to the man’s midsection, then another across his jaw.
It was brutal and efficient…and over in a second.
The man went limp and crumpled to the floor. Jake let him fall, then turned to glance around the bar, as if daring anyone else to say a word.
The crowd went silent.
Verity’s mouth hung open as he strode back toward her.
This time he wrapped his arm around her waist and shuttled her toward the door. She couldn’t turn her face away from his as they walked. She didn’t think she managed a full breath until they were outside on the porch.
“T-that was amazing.” Verity had a feeling that it wasn’t the sort of skill that someone should be impressed with but she couldn’t seem to help it. There was a certain grace to the way he moved that was undeniably awe-inspiring. “I’ve never seen a bar fight before.”
“You still haven’t.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “Still, I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”
“I’m guessing you don’t get too many brawls at the University.”
“You’ve obviously never been to a faculty meeting.”
She spied a hint of a smile play at the corners of his lips as he hurried her down the stairs and into the parking lot.
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
“In the far corner,” Verity said, pointing to the silver compact.
“I should’ve guessed.”
She pulled out her keys and opened the driver’s side door. When she turned around Jake was right behind her, his body blocking her in. There was something about his closeness that was distracting, made it hard to focus on anything other than her physical reaction to him.
Especially now that she knew what he was capable of.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I am going back inside,” he said, “and you’re headed to the airport.”
Verity lifted her chin, even as disappointment washed over her. “So, you don’t want to help me?”
“You want my help? Then take my advice. Forget about Roman’s bogus treasure hunt,” he said. A kind, honest quality had snuck into his voice, even though none of the firmness had faded. “Go back to your nice little life in Ann Arbor.”
If only she could.
Jake fixed her with a look. Her heart began to pound. She tried to blame it on fear again, but the strange truth was she didn’t feel threatened—and she hadn’t since the moment she’d sat down at his table and really started talking to him.
The truth was, she felt strangely safe with him. Now, more than ever, she was convinced that Roman was right. Jake was the only one who could keep her out of harm’s way.
No, her speeding pulse had more to do with being so close to those warm brown eyes and soft lips—those few features that were at total odds with the rest of his rough exterior and reminded her that he was just a man, after all.
Somehow, that made what she had to do next even harder.
Verity lifted her head and slowly nodded.
“Okay,” she said.
His eyes narrowed. “Okay?”
He obviously wasn’t expecting her to give up so easily. He should have listened to that instinct.
“Thank you for what you did for me in there,” Verity said.
Before he could say anything in response, she slipped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug. He was every bit as surprised by the affectionate display as she’d hoped. His arms went out to the side…giving her access to that motel key that she’d spied inside.
As delicately as she could, Verity pinched the top of the hard plastic card and slid it out of his back pocket.
“Yeah,” he said, giving her back a quick, awkward pat. “Take care of yourself.”
“You bet,” Verity said, palming the key as she took a step back.
She didn’t waste any time slipping into the car. She didn’t even look his way as she started the engine and pulled out of the Crossroads parking lot.
There wasn’t any need.
She’d be seeing Jake Thorne soon enough.
Verity waited until she was almost a mile down the road before she pulled over to the shoulder and looked down at the key card still clinched in her hand. Just like she’d hoped, the name of the place was printed on the front.
The Blue Sky Motel.
Next, Verity pulled her phone out of her bag and went straight to her texts. Her fingers flew over the keyboard.
Remember when I said I was making the biggest mistake of my life? I lied. I’m about to make it now.
Because if there was one thing that fight inside the bar had proved to her, it was that Jake Thorne was wrong.
He was the only man she wanted to protect her.
Chapter Two
Jake was damned tired by the time he pulled his truck into the parking lot of the Blue Sky Motel at a little after two in the morning. Between the brief tussle with the loudmouth at the Crossroads and his encounter with Roman Green’s dark-eyed sister, it had been a hell of a night. But deep down, Jake knew that the weariness clawing at the edge of his consciousness wouldn’t be enough to pull him under.
No, tonight would end just like all the others, with him stretched out on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling and counting the long hours until the sun rose.
It was the same routine, night after night. The memories found him the moment he closed his eyes—the burning
pain of bullets ripping through his chest, the sight of the ground rushing toward him, the terrible rage that had swept through him when he’d caught a glimpse of Charlie in the same state.
Nothing seemed to stop the constant loop of regret and anger. Not solitude. Not drinking. Not fighting.
The only thing he hadn’t tried was sex. God knew, it was the last thing he deserved. He hadn’t even looked at a woman that way since the day he’d woken up in the hospital. It was as if the guilt had robbed him of desire.
At least, he’d thought it had, until Verity Green had slipped into his booth tonight.
Maybe it was the striking combination of her loose black curls and her pale skin, or those full red lips. Maybe it was the tempting pull of all those lush curves. There was no denying that the woman had the kind of body that a man could get lost in.
Still, Jake had crossed paths with dozens of beautiful women during his time down here, and none of them had drawn him in the way Roman’s sister had tonight.
Of course, none of them had been as intriguing as Verity.
Everything she’d done had surprised him—coming over to his table when it was clear how much she wanted to run away, staying after he’d tried to frighten her off, continuing to argue her case even when he’d made it clear she was never going to win.
It seemed the woman had a reserve of courage that even she wasn’t aware of.
But more than that, there didn’t seem to be even a drop of deceit in her. She was everything that her brother wasn’t—honest, innocent, decent. Apparently, Jake hadn’t been prepared for how refreshing and attractive he’d found that combination of traits.
Just like he hadn’t been ready for the way his body had reacted to the feel of her skin. Urges he hadn’t felt in months roared back to life at the simple touch of her hand against his arm.
It had taken everything he had to wrangle his desires back under control. Sure, Verity might be the most desirable woman he’d crossed paths with in a long time, but she was hardly the kind he could take hard and fast up against the back side of a country bar.
And that was just as well, Jake thought as he threw his truck into park and killed the engine. He’d come out here, to the middle of nowhere, for penance not pleasure.
Jake: The Sinner Saints #3 Page 2