Jake: The Sinner Saints #3

by Adrienne Bell

  Unfortunately, the same qualities that drew him to her were the ones that might get her killed.

  Jake jammed his hands into his pockets and glanced down at the hot blacktop beneath his boots. “She shouldn’t have gone after Silas like that.”

  “I don’t know. That took a lot of guts. And brains,” Bowie said. “Silas had to know you’d go back out to the farmhouse to get evidence. That’s why we didn’t find anything. He was ready for us. But I don’t think any of us were prepared for what Verity did today. It might have shaken him up. It might make him sloppy. And that’s just what we need.”

  Jake shot him a glare. He didn’t give a damn about taking down Silas’ operation. Not anymore. The only thing he cared about was keeping Verity safe.

  “How smart will she be when Silas catches up to her and…”

  Hell. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Bowie said, his voice low and firm. “You won’t let it.”

  “Yeah,” Jake said with a dark laugh. “Just like I didn’t let it happen to Charlie, right?”

  The second he said the words the scene began replaying in his mind. Charlie draped across the couch. The cascade of blood running down her shirt. The sound of her wet, rattling breath mixing with Tessa’s screams. He’d never forget it.

  Jake glanced over at Bowie and saw that his friend had gone stock still. His eyes were pointed straight ahead, but they didn’t seem to be focused on anything.

  Damn, this awkwardness was killing him. All the guilt and pain that he was shouldering, it suddenly felt so heavy, like a suit of metal armor he was too afraid to slough off.

  But maybe the time had come to try. Maybe Bowie knew it too, and that’s really why he was still standing here instead of storming away at the mere mention of Charlie’s injuries.

  “Why don't you hate me?” It took every bit of strength Jake had to force the question past his lips.

  Bowie let out a long sigh. At least he wasn't going to pretend not to understand.

  “Because it wasn't your fault,” Bowie said after a few seconds had passed.

  "Bullshit. Charlie was my responsibility. That makes what happened to her my fault.”

  Bowie shifted uncomfortably against the truck. “She lived.”

  “Just barely,” Jake said.

  “Stop it,” Bowie said turning toward him. “Five men ambushed you in Charlie’s apartment that day. Five. What happened to you and Charlie was their fault, not yours.”

  “But I should have known what was coming. I should have fought harder when it did.”

  “No.” Bowie shook his head. “There was no way you could have anticipated what went down. I know we were trained to think of ourselves as supermen, but we're just human. If we take three to the chest, we go down.”

  Jake shook his head. He understood every word that Bowie said, but for some reason his mind refused to accept them.

  “Damn it. Verity was right,” Bowie said. “I was the one that failed you. I should have travelled down to that hellhole you ran off to. I should have dragged your ass out of there and forced you to listen to reason, but I was too wrapped up worrying that Charlie might stumble into trouble to realize that you already had.”

  Jake stared over at his friend in disbelief. Bowie never spoke about Charlie like that. Hell, he’d take someone’s head off just for implying that he thought about her at all.

  “Are you ever going to tell her how you feel?” Jake asked.

  Bowie’s jawline tightened. The cords in his neck started to stick out, but he didn’t lose his temper. “And why the hell would I do that?”

  Jake could think of a thousand reasons off the top of his head, but he went with the most obvious.

  “Because you both deserve a shot at happiness.”

  Bowie arched a skeptical brow. “And you really think that she could ever be happy with me?”

  “I think life’s too short, and the time has come to find out or move on,” Jake answered honestly. “You’re driving yourself crazy pining for Charlie, and that’s not fair to either of you.”

  “Yeah, well you know what I think?” Bowie asked, pushing off the grill.

  “What?”

  “I think we’re just a couple of guys that don’t know how to take their own advice,” Bowie said as he started to walk toward his room at the far end of the motel.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Jake looked at the door in front of him. The one where he’d left Verity alone.

  Yeah, Bowie was definitely right.

  "Oh, and Jake," Bowie said, not bothering to stop or turn around. "You ever talk to me about Charlie like that again, and I'll knock your damn teeth out."

  Jake smiled and nodded even though he knew his friend couldn’t see him. There was the Bowie Tamatoa he knew.

  ***

  Verity jumped away from the window the moment the door handle began to rattle. After her little lecture about trust, the last thing she wanted was to be caught eavesdropping.

  She would have guessed that a motel built on the edge of nowhere in the middle of the last century would have had paper thin walls that she could hear right through, but not this one. It must have been built back in the good old days when they used something more substantial than particle board for walls.

  As it was, she’d had to press her ear right up against the edge of the window. Even then she hadn’t caught everything they’d said. Not even half.

  But she’d heard enough.

  She tried to rush away from the corner she’d tucked herself into, but the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she fell backwards onto the bed just as the door opened. The bedsprings were still squeaking when Jake stepped through the door.

  His brows arched as he looked down at her. “Listening at keyholes?”

  Verity felt her cheeks start to burn. She thought for a moment about lying but quickly tossed the idea aside.

  “Windows, actually,” she said.

  The corners of his eyes lifted as a hint of a smile showed on his lips. See, she didn’t care what Charlie said. The truth was always best.

  “Hear anything?” he asked as he kicked the door closed.

  Nothing that she wanted to repeat.

  “Not much,” she said, quickly abandoning her policy of honesty. Of course, her blush gave her away.

  “Liar.” His smile deepened as he slowly started walking toward the bed.

  Verity thought for a second about getting up, but she changed her mind as Jake’s hungry gaze slowly slid up her body. Verity’s heart started to pound. She was starting to get to know his looks pretty well, and this one…well, this one was quickly becoming one of her favorites.

  “Well I did hear the part about Bowie being in love with Charlie,” she admitted. “That was a surprise.”

  “It wouldn’t be if you ever saw them together.”

  Jake stopped at the edge of the bed. His fingertips dangled down, barely brushing against her ankles.

  “I take it you’re not upset with me anymore,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” He glanced at her face. There was still a burning intensity in his eyes, but now it seemed to be firmly back under his control. “What you did was reckless.”

  “Oh, come on,” she said. “Even Bowie said it was a smart move.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up even higher. “I thought you didn’t hear anything.”

  “I said I didn’t hear much,” she tried. “It’s not my fault that both of your voices carry.”

  “Well, you were right about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Jake’s gaze darkened as he wrapped his hands around her ankles. He slowly pulled her down the bed sheets until her knees draped over the edge. Verity didn't fight him. Not a bit.

  “You trusted me. Even when I didn’t trust myself,” he said, leaning over her and casually flicking open the button of her jeans.

  “I still do.”
Her voice came out a breathy whisper. It was amazing that she’d managed to form the words at all with Jake slowly pulling down her zipper.

  “And now it’s time for me to trust you,” he said.

  Verity let out a rush of air as Jake hooked his fingers over the top of her jeans and, in one fluid motion, pulled them down her legs.

  She couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter that escaped her lips as Jake sunk down to his knees. “And this is how you show that you trust me?”

  “No,” Jake said, sliding her even closer. “This is how I convince you that I trust us.”

  A moment later, every thought fled Verity’s mind as Jake’s mouth closed over her. He swiped his tongue up between her lips and her back arched on its own.

  Damn, that felt good. Not just good. It felt like everything that was right in the world.

  Her hands twisted in the sheets at her side, but somehow that wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to feel cold cotton. She wanted to feel him. Verity reached down and ran her fingers over the top of his head.

  Fire built in her blood as he honed in on her clit, laving her with his tongue. A moment later, the blaze grew even hotter as Jake slid a finger inside her. Then another.

  “That’s right,” he growled against her as her fingers twisted in his short hair, holding him close.

  Her legs began to tremble as he upped the tempo, driving her hard. He knew just where to stroke, just where to press. It didn’t take him long to push her past the point of no return.

  Verity cried out as pleasure rocked her entire body. Every part of her shook so hard she feared that she might fly apart completely. That she’d lose herself to sensation.

  But deep down she knew that Jake wouldn’t let her. He had her in every possible way. He’d never let her fall.

  And she was right. His grip on her only tightened as she floated back down to earth. He didn’t let his hands slip away until she’d gone completely limp on the mattress.

  It took Verity a few moments to catch her breath and recover enough to crane her head up and look him in the eye.

  “Now that was one hell of a convincing argument,” she said with a soft laugh.

  He shot her the world’s sexiest smile as he rose to his feet. “I can be very persuasive.”

  Verity slid the rest of the way down the bed, until she was seated on the edge. She reached out for the buckle of Jake’s belt.

  “And what do you think you’re doing?” he asked as she started to undo the clasp.

  “Well, you had the chance to present your case. I figured it was only fair to let me have a try.” She shot him a teasing look as she freed the front of his pants and slid her hand inside. “Unless, of course, you have an objection.”

  Dark passion filled his gaze as he looked down at her. “None at all.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Jake’s head popped up from the pillow the second he heard the scratching at the door. He hadn’t been asleep—not really. Sure, he may have dozed off a couple of times in the last hour, but who could blame him? His mind was calm, his body was satisfied, and Verity was curled up, warm and snug, at his side. He couldn’t have asked for anything else.

  Except to be left in peace.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  He knew instantly it wasn’t Bowie outside his door this time. The person clawing at the lock had none of his skill or subtlety. And it sure as hell wasn’t housekeeping.

  That left only one other option.

  Jake rolled Verity over on her side as he grabbed for his gun on the nightstand. She roused instantly, her eyes wide with surprise.

  "Get on the floor," he whispered to her, pressing a finger to his lips. “And no matter what, stay down.”

  Verity’s gaze flashed from his gun to the door and back again. Her eyes went wide with fear, but she nodded and did as he said, disappearing over the far side of the bed. He heard her fumbling down there, probably pulling on her pants.

  Wise move. Once he had taken care of whoever was coming through that door, they were going to have to get out of there…and fast.

  Jake stood up from the bed and took a long, silent step toward the door. He pressed his back against the wall, just out of swinging range, and waited.

  Fortunately, the son of a bitch outside didn’t keep him waiting long. A few seconds later, the bolt slid back and the door violently swung open, crashing just centimeters from where Jake stood.

  The first shot came not even half a second later. The gunman didn’t even wait until he’d entered the room. He’d just fired blind, the bullet hitting halfway up the wall above the far bed.

  Amateur.

  Jake hadn’t expected anything less. Silas wasn’t about to send anyone who could be traced back to him out into such a public setting to do his dirty work. He needed someone without direct ties to him, someone expendable, even if that person shot first and thought second. This Norteño thug would have suited his needs perfectly.

  Silas probably hadn’t even told the poor bastard about the kind of man he’d been sent to kill. It was almost enough to make Jake feel sorry for the guy.

  Almost.

  Jake, on the other hand, didn’t have any problem being patient. He waited the extra half-second for the gunman’s arm to make it through the doorway, then snapped out his hand. His fingers wrapped around the other man’s wrist and jerked up.

  Another shot rang out just as the delicate bones snapped under Jake’s hold. The bullet buried deep into the mattress, sending up a spray of white fluff that suspended in the air above the bed like snow.

  The man howled out in pain, but held tight to his weapon. Jake gave his arm a hard tug, knocking the man off balance and forcing him down on his knees. Once there, Jake drove his hand down hard, shattering what was left of his wrist. A second later, Jake snatched the gun from his limp, useless fingers.

  He glared down at the man. There was no use asking who sent him, but there were plenty of other questions Jake wanted the answers to.

  “Who told you where to find us?” Jake demanded.

  The man didn’t answer. His face was quickly turning white as he quaked in pain. By the looks of it, he was barely able to drag in a breath.

  Damn it. He’d overdone it. The trauma of his injury was sending him into shock.

  Information gathering had never been Jake’s strong point. He’d always left that part up to his good friend, Rhys. That man could make anyone talk.

  Jake, on the other hand, was much better at busting heads. Which meant that answers would have to wait. He couldn’t waste his time waiting for the attacker to come around. The most important thing was getting Verity out of this compromised motel, and into someplace safe.

  He snatched his own pants off the floor and called out to Verity as he pulled them on.

  “Come on,” he said, quickly sliding into his boots. “We need to go now.”

  Verity’s face popped up on the other side of the bed, but she didn’t stand. She looked terrified, even more rattled than she had in his truck yesterday. Her wide eyes stared at her attacker kneeling on the ground.

  “What about him?” she asked.

  It was easy to see she was still afraid the man was a threat, so Jake reached out with the tip of his boot, and tapped him on the shoulder. The man didn’t let out so much as a whimper as he crumpled the rest of the way down to the floor.

  “Someone will come looking for him eventually,” Jake said, putting out his hand. “That’s why we need to go now.”

  Verity nodded and raised herself up on shaky legs.

  Damn, he hated seeing her like this. She could barely even make her way over to him without leaning on the bed.

  Something deep inside himself wanted to console her, tell her that everything was going to be all right, that they were going to be fine. But Jake knew he couldn’t make that promise. Not yet. Not when he still needed to come up with a plan to get them out of this mess.

  Jake waited until Verity was at his side before st
arting for the half-open door.

  “We need to get Bowie,” he started. “After that we’ll—”

  The words died in Jake’s throat the moment he stepped out into the sunshine. It didn’t look like they’d be going anywhere. At least, not through the front door.

  The motel parking lot that had been all but empty the last few days was anything but now. There were two cars blocking the entrance and exits, one parked next to his truck, and another next to Bowie’s.

  Shit.

  It seemed that Silas hadn’t underestimated him after all.

  Jake didn’t take the time to scan for familiar faces, but he could see at a glance that all of the vehicles were full. And by the looks of it, they weren’t too happy to see someone other than their friend walking out of the room.

  Jake yanked Verity back inside just as car doors started to open. He threw the bolt, then went over to the closest bed. In one move, he picked up the heavy mattress and propped it up against the door.

  “Is that going to stop them?” Verity asked with a shaky voice behind him.

  “No,” Jake answered honestly as he grasped her arm and pulled her deep into the room. “But with any luck it will slow them down a little.”

  Bullets started hitting the door the moment his mouth had closed, as if to punctuate his words. Jake shoved Verity into the bathroom, praying no stray bullets found their way through before he could get her out of there.

  He grabbed a towel hanging by the sink, wrapped it around his hand and stepped into the tub. One quick punch was all it took to shatter the frosted window that led out to the alley. He wiped away the rest of the shards with the towel.

  “You’re going to have to jump down,” he said, lifting Verity up so she could shimmy through the opening.

  “No, she won’t,” he heard a familiar voice calling out from the other side. “I’ll catch her.”

  Bowie.

  He should have known that his friend would jump into action the second he heard gunfire. Something close to relief rushed through Jake. Alone, he didn’t stand much of a chance against such steep odds, but with all three of them together, there was a chance.