Lacey took a deep breath and pushed her shoulders back. She took two steps and rapped her knuckles on the heavy, hand-carved doors.
“Come in,” Aanya called out.
Lacey pushed the door open and shuffled forward.
Aanya reclined on a sofa facing the windows, while her husband sat at a small table with a newspaper in hand. It was the picture of domestic bliss, and one Lacey was about to ruin.
“Hi!” Aanya pushed to her feet and in the blink of an eye enveloped Lacey in a tight squeeze. Her dark, curling hair tickled Lacey’s nose, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. “I meant to come find you last night before it got so late. How are you?”
Aanya took a step back, her wide brown eyes so friendly and open.
“I need to apologize. To you both.” Lacey swallowed and glanced at Dev. He glanced up from his paper like an owl caught off guard.
“For what?” Aanya tilted her head to the side.
“Everything?” Lacey didn’t know where to start or what to say. God, she was going to be sick.
“Sit, please.” Aanya took her hand and led her to the sofa. “What’s wrong?”
Here goes.
The truth.
All of it.
If Aanya and Dev hated her for it, so be it. At least they would all be aware of what had really gone on.
“Marcos told me to tell you that things would go better if you did whatever he said.” Lacey clenched her hands together. Her throat was so tight she could barely breathe, but she had to get it all out. If she stopped she might never speak again. “Maybe that was the right thing to do? Maybe it wasn’t? I just... He said that—”
“He made you tell us what he’d already told us?” Dev asked.
“Yes?” Put that way, Lacey seemed more like a trained parrot.
“That was not your fault. Whatever that man made you do or say—it’s not your fault.” Aanya reached over and grasped Lacey’s hands, holding onto them so tight her nails dug into Lacey’s skin. “I’ve told you a little about my sister?”
“Yeah...”
“She was kidnapped when we were visiting family in Delhi. The men wanted money my parents didn’t have. You know what I loved about my sister?” Aanya smiled, but it was a sad smile.
“What?” Lacey whispered.
“She was fiercely independent. A fighter. Wonderful, witty, so strong and smart. I looked up to her so much, and I miss how she used to push me outside my comfort zone.” Aanya stared at the tile floor. “We know that she fought back against the men who killed her, that she was difficult and wouldn’t cooperate with their demands.”
Lacey swallowed. She had a bad feeling about where this story was going.
“Sometimes I wonder if she’d have done what they asked, would she still be alive today?” Aanya lifted her gaze to stare at Lacey. “What I do know is that you are not responsible for anything that man made you do. People like him have been taught his whole life that if they have the power, they can do what they want. It’s great and all to tell yourself that we need to stand up to people like that, but at what risk? Yes, men like him need to be stopped, but not at the loss the lives of people like you. Like my sister. You helped us. You were kind to us. That man didn’t make you that way, that’s who you are.”
Oh fuck.
Lacey pulled one hand back and covered her mouth to keep from sobbing.
“Aanya’s right.” Dev knelt in front of Lacy. “How long did you say you were there for anyway?”
“A month, right?” Aanya asked.
Lacey nodded. Six weeks and five days to be exact, but who was counting?
“You said there were others before us. Where are they? You helped them get home safe, and no one came back to help you. Aanya’s right. You did what you had to do. The blame isn’t your burden.” He placed a hand on Lacey’s knee.
“I hate crying.” Lacey swiped at her cheeks.
“You’ve been through a lot. Cut yourself some slack,” Aanya said.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Lacey nodded.
She’d dug herself this pit of doom, gloom and despair, drowning herself in guilt, and in a matter of moments the people who should hate her, were the ones hauling her ass back to terra firma. She’d convinced herself she was equally at fault, that she could do more, and maybe she could have. But Shane—and Aanya—were right. She was a victim, as hard as that was to come to terms with. Lacey had worn many labels in her life, but that wasn’t one of them. She might not like it, but life was a journey. She’d documented most everything since that first Australia trip, and by God, she’d share this with the world, too.
Something pinged from across the room.
“Internet’s back up for who knows how long.” Dev straightened. “I’m going to try to reach my dad again. He’s the only one we haven’t been able to connect with.”
“Your father.” Aanya shook her head and sighed before turning her attention back to Lacey. “Have you talked to your family yet?”
“Oh, no. By the time I thought of it, the cell phones were already down.”
“Do you want to try after this?” Dev tapped at the screen of a tablet that’d been under the newspaper.
A virtual reunion with her family, here, with an audience?
Lacey might prefer dinner with Marcos.
“No, I don’t want to intrude.” Lacey stood. “I’ll get out of your hair, just—thank you. Really.”
She fled after a few more pleasantries. Aanya meant well, and her words were touching, but Lacey wasn’t yet ready to be that person. The victim. She was too angry to figure out how she fit in all of this.
Lacey retreated to the third floor balcony and stood just under the roof, where a proverbial downpour of water splashed on the tile. She stared out over the landscape, noting the changes in less than twenty-four hours.
Dirt and mud were sliding down the hill, covering the road. She’d spied a few overturned trees. From the bits of radio and TV they’d been able to get, she knew there was considerable flooding all over the island, cell towers were down, and houses damaged. Rain like this was unusual and harmful. The people here would rebuild.
That was why she loved Jamaica. The cheer and resiliency of the people she’d met resonated inside of her. Doing this tour was going to be the highlight of her year. And then...
Marcos.
Life was crazy sometimes.
“You do know we have running water and showers downstairs, right? Hot water, even.”
She turned toward Isaac. He paused next to the dining table tucked up against the wall and pulled out a chair.
“Showers don’t do me a lot of good when I’m just wearing the same thing over and over again.” She was pretty sure her clothes could stand up on their own, even when she hand-washed them every so often.
“Why didn’t you say something? We brought some things for Aanya that we could use for you, too.” He sat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Man, I miss smoking sometimes.”
“It’s better for you to not smoke.”
“So I’m told.” He lifted his shoulders. “I’ve also been told I owe you an apology.”
“Oh?” Lacey frowned and ambled toward him. Isaac was a fun guy, the kind of person she liked meeting out and about. Great to pass the time with, but not always a great travel partner. He was too flighty, too smooth. She was willing to bet there was a string of broken hearts in his wake. Then again, some might say the same of her.
“Yes, that I might have flirted a little too much, and it might not have been welcome. So, if I made you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I’m a stupid guy and I miss signals.”
“Who told you that?” Lacey laughed, the first, honest laugh in a while. She pulled out the chair next to him and turned it to face out so she could watch the rain come down.
“Doesn’t matter. If I did wrong, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re fine.” She might like the attention, but it wouldn’t go anywhere. Isaac was harmless. T
o her, at least. She peered sideways at the sandy-haired man. “Was it Shane?”
“It would be inappropriate for me to answer that question,” he said slowly.
“Bullshit.”
Isaac grinned.
It was Shane.
The stick in the mud. He saw someone else having fun and had to squash it.
Lacey rolled her eyes and sighed.
“You got under his skin. I don’t know how you did it, but I was pretty sure he was about to wipe the floor with my ass.” Isaac sounded downright gleeful about the prospect.
“I didn’t do anything.” Except kiss him. A tiny bit.
“If I pay you fifty bucks to keep not doing anything, would you?”
“That would be wrong.” And way too tempting.
“Hey, I’ve known Shane a long time and I’ve only seen him get worked up a few times.” Isaac stared at the tile, some of the humor leeching out of his face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked keeping her voice quiet.
“There was a...an accident a few weeks ago. Shane blames himself, and yeah, maybe it was his fault if we’re assigning blame, but... You can’t do that. Shit happens.”
Damn, that sounded familiar.
They descended into silence, broken only by the pitter patter of rain.
She’d always seen herself as an adventurer, braving the unknown, going to places others wouldn’t, and opening the eyes of people who would never get to be in her shoes. Casting this new light on her life was uncomfortable. Where did she go from here?
Shane seemed so...solid. Unfazed by even the slightest thing. Hell, he’d taken finding a girl with an explosive collar on her neck in stride and known exactly what to do. If he blamed himself for anything, she didn’t see it. What she wouldn’t give for confidence like that at a time like this.
“Isaac.”
Lacey jumped at the sharp tone. She and Isaac turned toward the double doors.
Shane stood there, glaring at Isaac as though he were about to go toe to toe in some sort of epic showdown.
Marcos picked up the phone. He’d had one miracle today. Tommy’s doctor had recommended a week off, time for the kid to recuperate. It was the time Marcos needed to come up with the cash to keep the ball rolling.
“Tell me you’ve got something,” he said. His team wasn’t equipped to follow Lacey’s social media trail, so he’d called in a specialist.
“The website just made a statement that Lacey Miles has been rescued and an update is forthcoming,” Juan Torres replied. At least Marcos assumed it was Juan. For all he knew, it could be his brother Pedro.
“And?” Marcos grit his teeth. He didn’t care one way about her, only that wherever Lacey was, so were the targets.
“You aren’t going to like this. We hacked the site and found some video. It’s of you, the team... She was recording for at least the first few weeks you had her.”
“What?” Marcos stood. His chair shot back, toppling over.
“She wore some kind of small action, body camera thing. It’s not great quality, so the feds won’t be able to use facial recognition software to ID your guys, but it’s all there.”
“Did you delete it?” Marcos paced the office. Part of Marcos’ parting words to his captives before he let them go was a threat that if anyone ever breathed a word about him, his team, or who they were, Marcos would come for them. It was a threat he’d never had to make good on. The people they targeted believed they were above such horrors, and ones behind them wanted to forget they’d ever happened.
“I deleted what was there, but this is probably not the only copy. Whoever she sent it to will have it, and the original is likely still on her. Not that you asked me for my opinion, but you need to find her and shut her up, man. If she talks...”
“Working on it. You handle the video guy. Shut him up. Do whatever you have to do, understand?” Marcos ended the call and slammed the phone down on his desk.
He couldn’t tell the client about this. He’d been honest about the escape, but this? A move like this would kill his business, not to mention his ability to travel in and out of the states. Someday he wanted to take Tommy home, watch him play in the yard, spend time with their family. But if Marcos was a wanted man, that was a future they couldn’t have. Lacey Miles and the team who rescued her had to die. It was them or Tommy, and Marcos’ son would always come first.
The cops and local guys would need to be paid more. This was already eating into his operational profits, but now they were talking about Marcos’ ability to pay his men and take care of Tommy. He—and every man who worked for him—could not allow Lacey Miles’ video to go live. If it did, they were all over.
5.
“Kyle wants you downstairs.” Shane did his best to keep his voice even, professional, and not glance in Lacey’s direction. He was there for Isaac, plain and simple.
“Work beckons.” Isaac glanced at Lacey and smiled. “Stay sharp.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Shane remained rooted to the spot.
Isaac pushed up and moseyed past Shane, ramming his shoulder into Shane’s. He took a step back, but otherwise let it go. Starting something with Isaac was not the best way to handle things, even if Shane wanted to ring the guy’s bell.
Lacey watched without offering commentary.
Shane turned his head, listening to Isaac’s footsteps down the hall and stairs.
What the hell was he thinking?
“You should stay away from Isaac,” Shane said.
“What?” Lacey’s face scrunched up and she snorted. “You do realize we’re all trapped in this house together?”
“Just—stay away from him.”
“Why?”
Because I said so. Yeah, Shane bit his tongue on that one. It’s for your own good, was another answer he’d avoid. He wasn’t stupid.
A woman as strong-willed as Lacey would take statements like those as a challenge.
“You don’t want to get involved with a guy like Isaac, that’s all I’m saying.” Shane crossed his arms over his chest.
Lacey strolled toward him, a thoughtful look on her face and her gaze trained on him.
“Who says I’m getting involved with anyone?” she asked, her tone so soft and sweet.
“Isaac has a reputation, and given everything that’s happened, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“What kind of a reputation? What ideas am I getting?” She crossed her arms, mimicking his pose.
“Look, Isaac’s a good guy, but we all travel a lot. It’s not conducive to anything more than...”
“Than what?”
Shane swallowed. He wasn’t accustomed to the company of women. How did he say that Isaac was in and out of enough beds that he found reason to change his phone number every three months?
“Are you trying to say that Isaac wants to sleep with me? Is that it?” Lacey tilted her head to the side.
“I don’t know that.” But Shane could guess.
“I’m not big on relationships, either. Maybe I’m just fine with the way things are going.”
Shane bit his tongue and shoved a hand through his hair. He should have just kept his concern to himself. It was none of his damn business who she slept with or what Isaac did.
“Forget I said anything.” He held up his hands and took a step back.
“I talked to Aanya and her husband.” Lacey lifted her shoulders.
“Yeah?” Those words rooted him to the spot. “What’d they say?”
“About the same thing you did.” She turned her head, the breeze making the tendrils of hair dance around her face.
“You aren’t at fault.” He reached up and gripped the top of the door.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She glanced back at him.
He sucked in a breath. Those green eyes of hers, it was like she stripped back a layer every time she saw him and looked deeper and deeper. It was an uncomfortable experience, and yet what did he really have t
o hide?
“I’ve never been the victim type, you know? It’s just...not me.”
“You survived, Lacey. That’s what’s important. Are you a victim? Yes. But that’s not who you are. That doesn’t define you.”
It was her turn to exhale, shoulders relaxing.
Had he said something good, by chance?
There was a first for everything.
“Is that how you think of yourself? As a survivor?” She leaned against the side of the door.
“I’m a soldier.”
“Is that it?”
“It’s what I chose to be.”
“Do I get to choose, too?”
“I don’t see why not?”
The corners of her lips curled up into a smile that could have parted the clouds if she turned it on the sky. He reached over and pinched a bit of a leaf that’d got caught in her hair. She held still, watching him gently extract the foreign particle.
Lacey was...good. It was in the way she brightened up a room, her very nature. He wanted to protect that, even from Isaac or himself.
He stroked his fingers once more through her soft hair.
They should get downstairs. Yesterday was enough to teach him that he had no business being alone around her. And yet, here they were again.
Her hip pressed against his.
When had he leaned so close?
He couldn’t fault Lacey for pulling him into her orbit, that was all his doing.
“I’m going to go downstairs now,” he said.
“Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure about that?” Her gaze dipped to his lips.
“Yup.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t move, and neither did he.
Well, he hadn’t said when he was going downstairs, had he?
Kissing her was a bad idea. It was lust, life-affirming human contact, indulgent, and yet he wanted to touch that. Hold her for a moment. Feel what it might be like to live with abandon, free and wild.
He curled his hand into her hair, the strands wrapping around his fingers.
She tipped her chin, one corner of her mouth hitching up.
Dangerous in Love (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #1) Page 5