by M. Leighton
Despite my resolve to remain detached, to listen with half an ear and keep my emotions out of it, I feel my chin tremble in response to his words.
Not until you.
“I don’t know if there was any point, not from the second I met you, when I could’ve hurt you. Not like that anyway. I guess I knew all along that my attraction to you would end up hurting you one way or the other. But I couldn’t resist you. Didn’t really want to. Then again, monsters are selfish. I don’t know why I’m even surprised.”
I try to ignore the way his confession eases my soul, eases some of the pain that I’m trying so hard not to feel. I open my blurry eyes and trace a finger along the shiny wood inlay of the passenger-side door. I can’t look at Jasper. I can’t let myself see what expression he’s wearing, see his eyes.
“And my father? You think killing him wouldn’t have hurt me more than you taking my life?”
“Muse, you have to understand that I’ve never, never hesitated before. All the things you made me feel are new to me. I can’t say for sure what I would’ve done, but I can tell you right now that even if he hadn’t come through with the information I needed, I wouldn’t have taken him from you. If he’d turned out to be a traitor, I don’t know what I’d have done. I’d have hated whatever it was because he was my commander. Men like us, we live by a code. And if he’d violated that code, he’d have deserved death. But even so, I couldn’t have killed him. I couldn’t have done that to you.”
I close my eyes again, battling over whether to believe him. He’s never lied to me before. Left things out, yes. Vital things like being assigned to kill me and my father, but he’s never actually lied.
“What did you want from him anyway?”
“I needed to know who he works for, who calls the shots for him. I knew if he wouldn’t give up a name, he was dirty. That’s how I would’ve known he was involved.”
“Involved in what?”
He pauses. I hear him take a deep breath as though he’s delving into something else that’s unpleasant. “Killing the members of our team. Delta Five consisted of your father and four men. Rogan, Reid, Tag and me. We’re being targeted. Now I know your father is, too. You’ll meet the rest of them soon. Well, all but one. Reid. They got to him first. After I notified the cleaner, I called the others while you were packing, told them to get to Atlanta.”
“For what?” I snap. I’m understandably alarmed. Four dangerous men, angry ones, at that, descending on my father. Who would be okay with that?
“They need to be warned. In person. Our trust needs to be reestablished. And they need to be able to take precautions. Obviously the people they care about could be in danger.”
“So you all did the same kinds of . . . jobs?”
“We all had our specialties, but we all did whatever we had to do to get the job done. We worked as a team for three and a half years. The four of us practically lived together. And in situations like the ones we often found ourselves in, you quickly become like family. Tight. Trusted. Dependable. But when it came time to re-up, two of the four couldn’t. Rogan had a brother who got hurt and needed him. Tag had a death in the family that required he take over the business back in the states. So it was just me and Reid left. Our assignments were solo after the group dissolved, but we kept in touch. We all have, actually. Until Reid got killed two months ago, that is.” Another pause. When Jasper begins to speak again, his voice is taut with an underlying anger. “The thing about men like us is that it takes someone with a high level of clearance to even find out about our existence, much less to be able to find us on an op and take us out, like with Reid. Or to target the family of someone who took on a new identity like I did. There’s a traitor somewhere in the mix. Someone who hired a low-level asshole like Matt. And I’m gonna find out who it is.”
I finally turn to look at him. “And you think my father can help with that?”
“I know he can. Now that I know he’s not involved.”
“And then what? You find out who this person is and kill him? Is that your plan?”
“Yes.” No wavering. No hesitation. No questions asked. “The penalty for treason is death.”
“Wh-what about my father?”
“Your father can take care of himself. He’s part of us. One of us.”
“So you’ll get your name, exact your pound of flesh and then disappear?”
“Yes. It’s what I do.”
“And if someone else is sent to finish the job you couldn’t?”
“The only reason I even took the assignment to take care of the Colonel was so that no one else would get to him and kill him before I could get answers. He went underground because he knew what happened with Reid was foul play. He also knew that if anyone was sent after him, it’d be me. I’m the best at what I do. And I’m sure he knew once I found out about you, I’d use you to get to him. And that there would be no safer place for you than with me until I got my answers. He’s always a step ahead. That’s why he was chosen to lead a team like ours. As I said, your father can take care of himself. He has contacts. He knows things. He knew I was coming. Like me, he put it together about our team being sold out. Men like Reid don’t just get killed on their way to an op that way. No one should’ve known where he was going. Except the very people who ordered him to go there.”
“And me? What’s to become of me?”
“I have a plan.”
When he doesn’t continue, I prompt, “Are you going to tell me what it is?”
“Not yet. But I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re safe.”
Jasper’s face is somber. I don’t ask why, though. I don’t ask what he’s feeling. I’m pretty sure that I don’t want to know. This is already a disaster. I can’t afford to get drawn in any further, can’t risk a setback. And I’m smart enough to realize that I can’t trust myself where Jasper is concerned. I’m in too deep. My heart is involved. Completely and irrevocably involved.
“And you couldn’t have just trusted me with this? You couldn’t have just told me? Did it never occur to you that maybe I could help? That maybe I could talk to my father, convince him—”
“It’s too dangerous. I would never risk you like that.”
“But you agreed to kill me,” I spit.
“That was before I knew you, knew who you were. And unless I’d found out that you and your father were liabilities, I had no intentions of killing you.”
“Why should that matter? If I’m a threat, I’m a threat.”
“I didn’t know for sure if you were. I came to find out if the Colonel was dirty. I knew I’d find out about you, too. But you’re not. You never have been. Your father sent you away because you were in danger and he knew it. He must’ve suspected something all those months ago. But even if you had been a threat, I wouldn’t have cared. I could never hurt you. Not now. Not after . . .”
I hate that my eyes sting. I hate that my feelings ache. I hate that my voice trembles. “And yet you’ve done just that.”
“Not because I wanted to. I just didn’t . . . I didn’t know how to tell you. Or even if I should. You’re only hurt because you know that there was a time, even though it was before I met you, when I might’ve done things to hurt you and the people you love.”
For some reason, that makes me prickly and defensive, even though it’s basically true. If I’d never found out, I’d have gone on blissfully ignorant, just as I’d been earlier today. And yesterday. And the day before that. Never knowing that Jasper came into my life with the intention of killing my father and me if he had to.
But I did find out.
And, as irrational as it might seem to him, I can’t simply pretend that nothing has changed.
“Maybe that is part of it, Jasper, but that’s not all of it. I think the worst part is that I trusted you. I believed you. And I fell—”
I won’t tell him again that I fell in love with him. My pride had taken a back seat before, but now it’s making itself known. And it’s
wounded.
Jasper’s voice is low and defeated. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m the worst thing in the world for you. But I promise that I’ll do right by you and then you’ll never have to see me again.”
To this, I say nothing.
Why is it that his promise makes me feel worse rather than better?
THIRTY
Jasper
My antennae twitch when I pull up outside the Colonel’s hideaway and find every light in the house on. Not very subtle for a man trying to fly under the radar.
I pull to a stop almost a block away and turn to wake Muse. She finally fell asleep almost an hour ago. I let her rest. She’s been through a lot today. She’s been through a lot the last several days, actually.
I don’t blink at the pang of guilt that stabs at my insides. I deserve every bit of anger and disgust she’s throwing my way. Probably more. If I’d been a halfway decent person, I’d have left her out of this after I met her, even though she was leverage for getting what I wanted from the Colonel. But even if I had made the same choice, I didn’t have to compound things by sleeping with her. I didn’t have to make things so much worse. But I did. Because I couldn’t resist her. Because she awakened some part of my heart, of my soul that I wasn’t sure I even had. She made me feel and, as much as I knew it was a bad idea, the lure of what she offered was just too much, too good. She was like fresh air to a man who has been locked in a basement his whole life. She was like the warm glow of a fire to a man whose heart turned cold a long time ago. She was like everything I never knew I wanted, served up with big green eyes and a sexy-as-hell smile.
I never knew I had an Achilles heel. Because I never knew Muse.
Until now.
But now I know. And where do I go from here?
I cut the engine and wait to see if she wakes. She doesn’t, so I speak her name softly, so as not to startle her. “Muse.”
She makes a little mewing sound and turns her head in my direction, but her eyes are still closed. I reach out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, the back of my finger grazing the silk of her skin. “Muse.”
She leans into my touch, her subconscious not nearly as averse to me as she seems to be in her waking hours. Her lips curve the tiniest bit and she makes a sighing sound, like she did when she was open to me earlier today.
A lifetime ago.
Her response makes me hard and achy, and grumpy as shit.
Since my right hand is trapped between her cheek and her shoulder, I ease my other onto her neck on the other side, trailing my fingertips over the soft, warm skin. “Muse, wake up.”
Sleepily, eyes still closed, she reaches for my hand, winding her fingers around my wrist and pulling it down to her breast. The air whizzes through my teeth with the hiss of my want. God, how can she do this to me so easily?
She arches her back, pressing the plump mound into my palm. Reflexively I squeeze and she moans.
I want to touch her. I want to slip my fingers into the neck of her shirt. I want to feel her nipple tighten, practically begging for my mouth. I want to crush her mouth under mine. I want to drag her warm body into my lap and ram my cock into her sweet heat.
But I can’t.
I won’t.
Because this is wrong. Messed up and wrong.
I jerk my hands away, bringing Muse fully alert.
Her doe eyes blink at me once, twice, and then she looks around. “Where are we?”
My breathing is harsh and fast, and I feel like I could bite through a steel I beam. “At your dad’s.”
She glances behind her and then back at me, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong? Why are you breathing so hard?”
“I was just . . . thinking.”
“About what?” she asks, her eyes widening in alarm.
I could lie. I could spare her the discomfort of my truth. But I haven’t lied to her yet. Why start now?
“About you. About us. About how much I miss touching you, kissing you. About how much I wish I could rewind. And how much I hate that I can’t.”
Her expression is sad and wary, but not openly hostile. “You and me both,” she confesses quietly.
“Muse, if things were different . . . if I were different, I’d—”
“Don’t,” she interjects, turning away from me. “Please. Just don’t.”
It’s my turn to sigh. “Will you stay here and let me go check things out first?”
“No.”
I knew what her answer would be before she gave it. And the reason I don’t argue with her is because things will end badly enough between us without me having to restrain her in the car because I’m overly cautious where she’s concerned.
“Fine. Come on then,” I tell her, unsnapping her seatbelt before I climb out from behind the wheel. While she’s getting out, I grab her suitcase from the back seat and meet her at the rear of the car.
We walk in silence up the street. Muse is distracted, frowning as she stares off into the distance. I doubt she’d notice if an ambulance went by. I, on the other hand, am ever vigilant. I’m scanning the street and the dark spaces between houses, covertly glancing in the windows of parked cars and listening for any sounds that might seem out of place.
I notice that the license plate of a motorcycle parked along the street has a California tag. That’s when I realize that at least one of my comrades is already here. This Ducati has Rogan written all over it. Another vehicle, a black Jeep parked up the street with a cluster of grapes on the license plate, makes me think the other might be here as well. Tag, my other brother-in-arms, grew up on a vineyard, one he’s now running from what I understand. My guess is both of them are inside with the Colonel.
Muse and I mount the steps and ring the bell. There’s no answer at first, but then I hear the raised voices. I try the knob and it opens easily.
“How the hell can something like this happen? All that shit’s supposed to be classified. Which bureaucrat with a price tag has access?” I hear Rogan shout.
“I don’t know all the players, but you can damn well be sure I’m going to find out,” the Colonel replies.
I enter the kitchen with Muse trailing right behind me. All heads turn in our direction. The Colonel nods and then crosses the room to take his daughter into his arms.
“Boys, this is my daughter, Muse. Muse, this is Kiefer Rogan, goes by just Rogan, and Tag Barton. They were part of my team for a few years.”
Rogan and Tag nod their greeting to Muse. Both men are openly appreciative of her beauty, which pisses me off. I grit my teeth against the urge to lash out at them. She’s not mine. I don’t have any right to be jealous. Of course, that doesn’t make one damn bit of difference to my temper.
“Nice to meet you,” Muse says with a polite smile. I’m glad when her father leads her out of the room, leaving me alone with Rogan and Tag.
After a short pause, Rogan smiles his typical devil-may-care grin and walks over to punch me in the arm. Even though he’s horsing around, I feel the power he’s holding back. It’s no surprise that he dominates in the mixed-martial-arts championship ring.
“You dawg! Figures you’d be the first one to meet the Colonel’s daughter. Man, she’s hot as hell!”
Tag’s approach is in line with his less cowboy nature. “Good to see you, man. Sorry to hear about your mom.”
“Shit, dude. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry, too. I was thinking with my big head instead of my little head,” Rogan chimes in. Although he adds the last in teasing, I can see by his expression that he’s genuinely apologetic.
“Thanks. She’s better off, I guess. Lost everyone she ever loved and was living all by herself.”
“Yeah, but you were taking care of her, man. Sending her enough money to put her up for life. At least she never wanted for anything.”
“For what that’s worth.”
“You did the best you could. We’ve all done the best we could.”
“So you’ve talked to the Colonel?”
“Yeah,” Rogan says, glancing at Tag. “Evidently, he has always answered to and received his orders from a committee. He’s having trouble finding out who heads it up, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if this went all the way to the top. Some sort of cover-up because a slimy politician wants a better seat at the table or some shit like that.”
“I won’t rest until I find out who’s behind all this. Matt may have pulled the trigger on my mother, but someone pointed him in the right direction. I want to know who it is. Someone needs to pay.”
THIRTY-ONE
Muse
I stand behind my father, surveying the room, taking in the power and adrenaline surging through the air. I tried to talk my father into leaving with me. Right now. Just picking up and moving to parts unknown, without looking back.
“Muse, honey, I can’t do that. I won’t do that. These boys trusted me. It’s up to me to do everything I can to get to the bottom of this,” he’d said. I should’ve known that’s what he’d say. Running is not in my father’s character.
I came with him to the kitchen. I’m tired of being left in the dark. This all very much affects me now and I dare even one of them to try and make me leave. They’ve never seen a hissy fit until they’ve seen me throw one.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It’s Jasper who addresses my father’s statement.
“A young man that I worked with put out the hit on Muse and me to draw you here. You and I were his real targets. He was going to have Muse killed to cover his own ass in case she’d overheard something that could prove detrimental to him. But he was working for someone, someone high up on the food chain. We just have to find out who that person is.”
Rogan is the first to reply. “Well, shit! There could be a couple dozen people on that list. Damn bureaucrats.”
His mouth is curved into a lopsided smile. He seems like the type who doesn’t let much bother him, not even a Benedict Arnold. His disposition only adds to the laid-back appeal of his surfer good looks.