Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3)

by Calinda B

  “Don’t worry, I’ve seen you beat the crap out of a guy or two. I did say you have badass britches. Don’t get all selective with your hearing.” She winked, then grew thoughtful. Her lips puckered into a peevish expression. “I know Jace is your friend, but he, of all people, should know better than to take away women you’re interested in.”

  Zed’s defenses rose. “He’s admitted to being a jackass. And our respective sins sort of cancel each other out. Don’t pick on him—he’s a good friend. Both he and his wife are good friends.”

  “Okay, he does seem changed.”

  “Yeah,” Zed said. “And speaking of crap beating, you should’ve seen his face when we patched things up several months ago,” he said, adding air quotes around the end of the sentence. “I even sucker punched him. Stuck out my hand for him to shake, then, wham!” He jabbed the air forcefully.

  “You didn’t,” his sister said gleefully.

  “I did. It was a low blow but I figured he deserved it. We got out all our misgivings and resentments in one fight. His wife drilled him a new one after that. She’s got him by the short hairs.” He chuckled.

  “It’s about time someone did.”

  “Yeah, and his upbringing was brutal. You don’t want to know kind of brutal.”

  “Okay, I’ll give him that. He’s changing for the better.” His sister sipped her coffee. “But Lawson’s always behaved like a dick. I don’t know what his problem is. Our upbringing seemed normal enough.” She pressed her lips together in a look of utter disgust. “I doubt if any female will turn his shit around. And what a loser for poaching your girls. And for…” She shook her head and shivered.

  “Yeah, thanks, sis.” He drummed his fingers on the table, considering his next words. “Here’s something else. I’m kinda used to putting up walls. I’ve done it for years, even before Jace and I had issues. But ever since San Diego…”

  His voice trailed off and he zoned out for a second. “It’s like…I can’t put my finger on it, but the other night, on our date, I had this completely irrational moment of absolute, shit my pants terror. And I kind of blanked out for a moment. It was like a lightning strike. Then boom, it was gone and we proceeded with our date. Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?”

  “I have no doubt that whatever you went through in San Diego left marks. I raged for days after you told me. Jeff probably thought my period was intense and long. You males always excuse a woman’s anger with her menstrual cycle, like we don’t have reasons to get mad in general. Lawson makes me feel violent.”

  Zed put his hands up. “Don’t look at me. You drilled that fact into me when we were growing up.” He lifted his hand, waggling his index finger. “‘And don’t you ever think because I’m pissed it means I’m on the rag.’” He let his voice raise in pitch and intensity as he repeated words he’d heard long ago. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said, laughing. “I remember thinking, ‘N-n-no, Caitlin, I would never.’”

  Caitlin laughed, too. “Oops. I presumably used my ‘outdoor voice.’ You probably did something to piss me off. Being the only girl in the family had its disadvantages.” After their laughter died down, she said, “I dunno, little bro. Have you ever thought of talking to a therapist?”

  “Shit,” Zed said. He finished his coffee and crushed the paper cup. “No, to that idea. I don’t want to give Mom more reasons to feel sorry for me, nor do I want a shrink to examine my head.”

  “Is that what you think Mom does?”

  “She always looks at me like, ‘poor Zed, he has no wife and is therefore unfulfilled.’ Like that’s the sole purpose of the species.”

  Caitlin waved away his comments. “Oh, you know Mom. She worries about looking good, keeping up appearances and all that, sending the right message at Christmas at how incredible we are as a family. I figure now that Dad’s dead, Lawson is doing his part for the family by drawing all the attention so the rest of us can live interesting lives without scrutiny.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Zed said. “But you know all the stuff I’ve done to set myself right. I’m even about to be issued patents for my soil saving compost. I’ve worked years on perfecting it. Now that’s something to be proud of.”

  His phone vibrated on the table. He snagged it and read, Hey, sexy man. I’m thinking of buying some maple syrup panties while I’m in Minnesota. You pour them on and they harden within minutes. How does that sound? He burst out laughing, both from finally hearing from her, and from her funny idea. Hell, no, he quickly typed. You taste far better than maple syrup. He hit Send and looked up to see his sister studying him, her eyebrow cocked. “What?”

  “Was that her?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe nothing. Your face is ten kinds of red. I’ve never seen you blush like that. My brother’s crushing hard.”

  “So what?” he said, feeling sixteen again. His phone buzzed again. He kept his eyes on Caitlin.

  “Go ahead,” she said with a roll of the eyes. “See what it says.”

  He picked it up and read, Sorry it took me so long to connect. Phone went dead on the plane. I didn’t bring a charger! Idiot alert!

  So that’s what it was, he thought, relieved. He grinned. He typed, No prob. I’m with my sister. His fingers hovered over the keys as he thought of what else to say. Should I say I miss her? Probably not. Take care? Hell, no. He settled on, enjoy your training. Let me know when you get back. I’d like to see you again. He congratulated himself for being simple and direct, placed the device on the table, and turned his attention on his sis.

  When the smartphone buzzed again, Caitlin said, “Last one, dude,” giving him a cocked eyebrow glare.

  He sheepishly retrieved it and read, when I get back??? What about in the meantime? Phone sex? Sexting? Heavy breathing? Shared carnal dreaming? Your call. He let out a loud laugh, bit his lip and said, “Not going to answer that one. Not with you around.”

  “Do not tell me what she said. I’ll never un-hear it and I need to meet her before I pass judgment.” She chuckled. “It’s nice to see, Zed. I mean it. You haven’t looked happy for a long time, maybe ever truly happy. And no, I don’t think you need a relationship to make you happy. I’m not Mom. I do think you need to stop hiding in the shadows of brother dearest. He’s a huge bully. I hope he gets caught. But then again…I don’t ever want my kids to be the focus of ridicule if he does get caught. Our entire family could be ostracized because of what he did. Have you thought of that?”

  Zed scoffed. “What do you think? How do you think it feels to be starting out a new relationship knowing one day she’ll ask me something probing about my family and I’ll get to say, ‘oh, you mean the brother I told you about who’s a marine? Yeah, well, he murdered someone and threatened me with a gun but we have a really stable family. Just ask my mom.’ I’ve thought about it a lot. How do you tell someone you barely know but want to know more a story like that?”

  “I don’t have a clue. And no I haven’t told Jeff, in case you’re wondering.” His sister rapped the table with her tiger striped nails. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d like to slug Lawson. He can’t get away with this. When I think of what you told me I get so pissed. I can’t even see straight. And don’t even start with your ‘I shouldn’t have told you’ bullshit. I’d be super pissed if you hadn’t told me. I mean…we’re the siblings of a murderer,” she hissed with quiet intensity, looking right and left to make sure no one heard her. “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  “No,” Zed said, brooding. “We don’t. No one has ideas on what to do, either.”

  “Who have you told? I thought this was top secret between you and me.”

  “Jace. I told Jace. He’s been in some messed up trouble and his, er, counselor has done time before so he asked if he could share with the guy.”

  “Do you think that’s safe? To tell them, I mean?”

  “They’re outside our family fishbowl and pretty trustworthy so, yeah, I do. Jace has tu
rned around. The counselor dude…he’s not really a counselor, he’s someone who wants to pay it forward in life. He’s the guy who helped set Jace on a better path.”

  “Why don’t you see the guy?” His sister pounced on the idea like it might get away. “Have a conversation, nothing more, that’s all I ask. Zeddy, I’m worried about you. I’m worried about what Lawson will do to you if given the chance. Get the guy’s number. Do it for me. If nothing comes of it, so be it. But I’d feel better if I knew you were getting some sort of guidance in the matter.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “Jesus, Caitlin, don’t cry.” Zed reached for her hand. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

  “But what if you’re not? What if Lawson has truly snapped? My whole family adores you. The kids think you’re the best. Rickie can’t stop talking about his uncle Zed racing to save Murphy. Jeff thinks of you as the best kind of family. I love you. You can’t let anything happen. Talk to the guy…please. You only have to agree to one conversation and I’ll drop the whole thing, promise.”

  Zed saw utter desperation pouring from his sister’s eyes. “All right. Okay. One conversation. That’s it.”

  “Good.” Caitlin squeezed his hand. “You owe it to yourself to pursue healing, Zeddy. You owe it to this new girl—what did you say her name is?”

  “Beck. Rebecca Tosetti.” Even saying her name evoked pleasure inside.

  “You owe it to Beck. You don’t want her to worry, do you? Women worry. We fret and worry about our men. At least the ones who truly care do.”

  The thought of having a woman who fretted over him, who actually cared, made Zed feel all kinds of strange. He nodded in affirmation. “Yeah, okay, I hear that.”

  Caitlin looked at her watch. “My client will be arriving in a few minutes. I’ve got to get back to the shop. Here’s a topic change.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Rickie wants to watch you in training. He wants Jeff to bring the GoPro and video his uncle training to save Murphy. Are you game?”

  A mix of pride and self-consciousness vied for attention inside Zed’s chest. “Yeah, I suppose. How about this weekend? I don’t know what kind of footage he’ll get or how interesting it will be. I do sprints, I swim, I bike. Nothing fancy.”

  “Oh, it will mean the world to him. He’s so excited about you doing this, I can barely get him to bed at night. Even Cerise is excited. I tell you, you’re a total hero to the kids.”

  Zed’s chest filled with pride. “So, the sea lions are doing okay?” he asked.

  “Apparently everyone’s alive,” Caitlin said. She stood and Zed followed suit. “The mom has started suckling the pup again. According to the biologists, pups nurse for over a year. And their mom’s go away for a few days to forage for food. Murphy got a slightly longer and more traumatic time away from his mom but the two are reunited and mom doesn’t have to go away to feed. They get daily feedings. As soon as they’re well, the center plans on releasing them back into the wild. Rickie’s learning a lot about marine life through this ordeal. Thank God it’s turning out to be a happy ending. One big death in the family is enough.”

  “You thinking of Dad?”

  “Yeah. What a shocker that was. Now all this shit with our brother.” She shuddered. “All I want is to live a normal life, and raise my kids to be decent individuals, but no, Mom and Dad had to spawn an asshole.”

  “They got three of the four right, at least.” Zed smirked, pushed open the door for her and they walked toward the salon. When they arrived at the shop, he hugged his sister goodbye and turned to head back to his truck. His phone vibrated again, and he pulled it free from his pocket and read, I hope you know this is more than sex to me. Although sex with you is the best I’ve ever had and we haven’t even fit the big bit into the small tight hole.

  She ended with a smiley face. Zed felt stunned and aroused. No one had ever hinted at something like that with him, not the “more than sex” part. They’d barely dipped their toes in the relationship waters and already it exceeded his scope of experience. A thrill of exhilaration filled his heart, until they collided with thoughts of his brother.

  Damn it all to hell. Even if the dickwad didn’t swoop in and claim her like a buzzard, his actions could stop the best thing that ever happened to him from growing into something fantastic. “Brother of a murderer,” he muttered, as he stomped to the truck, wondering what in the world he could do to get rid of his brother for once and for all

  Chapter 15

  Zed paced through the day, wishing it would hurry up and finish. After work he had a meeting with Mitch Jamison, Jace’s counselor, or whatever the hell he called himself. After that, he’d be meeting Beck for drinks. She’d sent him a text late last night, telling him her phone had died while on the plane and the charger was in her checked bag. Maybe I’ll buy her a large-ass battery for her phone. He chuckled. Too soon? It seemed like a dumb yet practical idea for a gift, but the girl had some serious technological malfunctions to keep draining her phone dry.

  Finally, the damn day ended and he headed to the address he’d been given. When he arrived at the small Victorian home, overlooking the water, not far from Beck’s home, he got out of the truck and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before tromping up the steps. He’d met Mitch once, at Jace’s wedding, but hadn’t really talked to the guy…not like this, anyway.

  They guy answered the door quickly, as if he stood at sentry, waiting for Zed’s arrival. “Hey, Zed. I was just about to head outside to check and make sure you found the place all right. I’m OCD that way.” He grinned, putting Zed at ease. “Come on in. I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee.”

  Zed followed the male into the kitchen. The dude looked like a badass, plain and simple. Granite muscled arms protruding from his sleeveless tank. Black Harley vest, no doubt recently plucked off the garage floor, blood-colored ink adorned arms, shaved head so smooth it must have been done with a straight edge razor and an eye for detail. A wicked scar snaked across his smooth skull like a slash from a scythe or a switchblade. Good thing he was one of the good guys.

  “Sit,” Mitch said, indicating one of the kitchen chairs. “Mi casa es su casa.” He plunked a mug in front of Zed and asked, “Can I pour you a cup? Life’s better with caffeine.” He grinned again.

  “Sure, coffee’s fine,” Zed said, wanting something to hold in his hands to keep them from shaking.

  “So Jace filled me in on the situation with your bro,” the male said, his lined face crinkling into a deep frown. “Rough stuff. I take it you have no interest in snitching on him, am I right?”

  “Not really, no. I, uh, I don’t know what he’d do to retaliate…if he knew I did.”

  Mitch filled both mugs, placed the glass coffee carafe back in the Cuisinart, and settled across the table from Zed. “Yeah. Makes sense. A dickhead rarely makes sense. Trust me. I’ve met more than my fair share and I’ve been one. But that’s not the topic of focus today. Savage tell you my terms?”

  “He mentioned something about you don’t take payment, bringing a pound of coffee, and I have to pay it forward if I get something out of it.”

  “That about sums it up. I take the coffee to Al Anon and Narcotics Anon meetings.”

  “He said you gave it to charities in the city,” Zed said.

  “That was when he came. Now, it’s meetings. I don’t keep it, if that’s what you’re implying.” He gave Zed a level, serious whiskey-eyed gaze. “I can buy my own damn coffee.”

  Again, Zed felt thankful Mitch was one of the good guys. Or he hoped he was. “Got it,” he said. “Not my business what you do with the coffee.”

  “The community service and paying it forward part—that’s a non-negotiable.” Again with the steely gaze.

  “Understood,” Zed said, feeling like he was on trial for a crime he never committed.

  “Okay,” Mitch said, rapping his knuckles on the flowery tablecloth covered table. “So, what can I do you for?” he asked, breaking into another engagin
g smile.

  Zed eyed him skeptically. “Not sure,” he said, cautiously. He sipped his coffee. “My sister thought it a good idea to talk to someone.”

  Mitch nodded, his goateed face appearing stern and thoughtful. “What would make her think that? Sisters can be highly intuitive.” He ran a hand over his shaved skull, a soft rasp of skin on skin sounding. “Mine sure is. Nothing escapes that little brat.”

  Little brat? Unless Mitch’s dad divorced and married a twenty year old, Zed doubted Mitch’s sister was younger than forty or forty-five. He smiled, gamely, not sure what to say.

  “Care to share?” Mitch prompted. “I asked you a question. Should I repeat it?”

  Heat flooded Zed’s cheeks. “No, I got it. You asked me what would make my sister think I needed to talk with you.”

  “Good. Your ears work.”

  Anger prickled Zed’s insides like porcupine quills. “No offense, but I didn’t come here to be ridiculed or schooled by you. I’ve had more than my fair share of that.”

  Mitch chuckled. “None taken. Just checking to see if you had a pulse.”

  “What’s that mean?” Zed asked, feeling like an ornamental poodle being examined by a pit bull.

  Mitch shook his head. “Can’t help you with your bro, man. What I can help you with is you. You seem a little victimized, like you’re your brother’s bitch.”

  Zed wanted to launch across the table and tear Mitch’s throat out, poodle or not.

  “Got something you want to say to me?” The male’s eyes glinted.

  “I’m not my brother’s bitch.” Zed eyed the door, ready to bolt out of here.

  “Then stop acting like it.” Mitch leveled him with his dispassionate gaze. “You come in here all nice and polite but you’re seething with anger, man. You’re one pissed off male.”

  “What makes you so certain of that?” Zed challenged.

  Mitch laughed. “Son, I spent time in lock down, what do you think? I could spot your kind from a mile away in the pen. You’d be an easy target. Your asshole would be so sore at the end of the day you wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone see straight. And you’d just let it happen.”