Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material

by Kindle Alexander

  “Oh, by the way, you might not be aware that I’ve told them you two were married in New York last week. You’re his legal guardian for the time being.” The afterthought was said so casually, Jace had to rethink the words before they snuck in and relief staggered him. Those few simple words were exactly what they needed to fend Colt's father off.

  “I need to go. I’m observing this surgery. I think Colt might want that; it’s a sensitive procedure. I’ll get him back to you as soon as possible. I promise to be with him the entire time.” Dr. Knox left to be replaced by a frenzy of activity as a hospital gurney was pushed in the room, followed by several hospital staffers.

  The new gurney was pushed to Colt’s side and locked into place. The medical professionals worked like a well-oiled machine, but lifting Colt properly required all of them. They unhooked some of the machines while leaving others going and connected to Colt. They gently tugged and carefully pulled Colt until he slid from one bed to another. His arms and legs treated with the utmost care. Jace jumped in to help Colt over onto the gurney by supporting his feet.

  He trailed along behind the crew, down the hospital corridor as long as he could. The minute came where he had to let Colt go to the operating room beyond the closed doors. They stopped momentarily, and he stole the moment to lean over and kiss Colt’s lips.

  “I’ll be waiting on you,” Jace whispered. He stood there, watching them bump open the swinging doors and disappear inside. As the doors swung closed, he got a glimpse of Dr. Knox scrubbed up and ready for the operating room. Good. Colt wouldn’t be alone. Jace turned and found the ever present agents close by. They quietly followed him back to Colt’s room to wait.

  “It’s definitely a cut. It looks like the locals did a pretty good sweep,” Tommy Wagner said, clicking off his pen flashlight and rolling out from under the wrecked Prius. Tommy was head of the Crash Data Retrieval Department for US Marshal’s Hawaiian field office. Mitch had worked with him for years. He knew his stuff, and if anything differed from what was reported, he’d find what no one else could. “It’s professional and planned.”

  “It’s what I thought, too. Either route to town would have had the brakes going at the worst possible time. Someone local has to be involved.”

  “It’s hard to see, but the safety on this frame had to give before he rolled. I’d say he was hit from the driver’s side of the vehicle. A precise hit, very intentional,” Tommy said. His head was inside the vehicle now, his body arched through the small opening in the side window. The pen light flashed on, his eyes scanned the roof. Tommy didn’t mention the dried blood on the door’s frame and maneuvered his body farther inside. “Once it gave, it allowed the hood to give a little easier. The safety on the left side held. Interesting…”

  “That’s what the skid marks in the road show. I’d say someone sideswiped him at a high rate of speed. There was also evidence he was hit from behind.”

  “And he lived through this?” The pen light clicked off, and Tommy worked his body out of the window.

  “Yeah. He’s pretty fucked up, but yeah,” Mitch said, standing back, watching Tommy work.

  “Surprising.”

  “Tell me,” Mitch said. When Tommy looked done, Mitch pulled his notepad out of his pocket and jotted down a few notes.

  “Yeah, this is a professional. It was executed with precision,” Tommy added, surveying the damage from outside the car. “Damn.”

  “Yeah. Who do you know around here that would do this?” The question didn’t hurt to ask. He knew the answer, but maybe if he asked enough people, the answers might change.

  “It could be any of them. Gangs, cartel, any trained mechanic that needed cash, shit, just pick one. Better question is who would have the money to pay someone to do this?” Tommy asked, playing the twenty questions game with skill. “Someone’s pulling purse strings, somewhere.”

  “The best I can tell, about fifty percent of the trash in his life could pay with Colt’s own money and would.”

  “Nice. Makes for a great family reunion. What’s your next step?” Tommy asked, turning to Mitch.

  “The locals are running everything through their database. They’ve assured me they’re on it, interviewing and all that bullshit. I got some feelers out there, but no one’s talking which at this point is pretty damn weird. Somebody’s got to be bragging somewhere.” Mitch flipped the small notepad over and tucked it back in his pocket.

  “Unless it’s cartel.”

  “Right.”

  “He had to have a pretty big mark on his head. Could this guy be on the island for reasons other than the standard vacay?” Mitch had wondered the same question himself and dug a little deeper, looking to see if Colt could be a seller, but he found nothing. Besides, the car was Jace Montgomery’s rental, not Colt’s. As crappy as Colt’s human leech baggage looked, they didn’t come off as killers. And from what he could find, Jace was squeaky clean. He ran a legit business dealing with children, and he seemed to take it seriously. Jace’s bank accounts were loaded, his pockets past full grown, and his savings was huge. He didn’t spend his money. Nothing in his background pinned this to him.

  Besides, Mitch’s gut told him this was some sort of hate crime. “I see that brain of yours ticking. I’ll write this up using the name John Doe. Let me know if you need anything else,” Tommy said as he reached down, loading his toolbox.

  “They have a second vehicle at their house. You might check it out when you have time,” Mitch commented absently.

  “Sure thing. Address on the report?” Tommy asked, standing and lugging his toolbox up with him.

  “Yeah, thanks, Tommy,” Mitch said.

  “No problem, man.” Tommy took off, but Mitch stayed right there, staring down at the mangled car. From this side, you couldn’t even tell what kind of car Colt had driven. How did he survive this accident? At the very least, how had there been no severe brain damage? The roof crushed in around him. Mitch found his heart connected again. Damn, that never happened. Fuck! Two men finally found happiness and to have someone try to tear them apart so tragically. How much more would they have to endure? He guessed as much as it took. And they were dealt a shit load right here.

  Pivoting on his heels, he walked to his truck, forcing the emotion out. He needed to help these guys. This wasn’t just about his father anymore, but damn his dad had a way of finding the neediest ones to attach himself to, he was such a freaking do-gooder. That caused Mitch to grin. It was actually what made his father such a great man to him.

  Chapter 30

  Exhaustion made everything that much more difficult. Jace rose from the hard plastic recliner and paced the small ICU room. He stretched his body, lifting his hands high in the air, feeling the tension cracking and popping before he bent over, reaching low. He let his head hang and closed his eyes. The stretch did wonders for his sore muscles. Jace lifted and rolled his shoulders, brushing his hair back off his face, retying the strands with the rubber band he’d swiped off the chart this morning. They were in day two, almost day three, of their hospital getaway, and Jace had barely left the room for more than a minute since he’d arrived. He could smell the days old stench on his body. He needed a shower and bad.

  Jace’s eyes lifted to the large clock above the hospital bed. He’d only burned about four minutes in his stretch. Damn. Jace’s eyes landed back on Colt’s battered face. None of the swelling had gone down. It was hard to look at him without wincing at what he must have gone through. He wondered if Colt had been afraid, or had his adrenaline pumped too fast to do much more than just experience the moment?

  Colt needed to wake up and answer those questions. They were almost twelve hours from being taken off the heavy sedation medications and Colt hadn’t budged. Jace had no idea what to expect, but he prayed for miracles. He wanted Colt to wake up. He wanted Colt to be difficult and ornery, insist he had this and try to get out of the hospital bed. It didn’t happen that way. So now they waited. Much like every minute since he’d
arrived, Jace waited and forced all his positive energy to Colt, willing him to wake.

  In Jace’s reasonable mind, he understood Colt should sleep, but if he could get even just a second of Colt looking at him, telling him everything would be okay… That was all he needed, because this waiting thing was hell, and the idea of starting day three sent panicked shivers springing up on his arms.

  “I need a shower,” Jace said to Colt. “Really bad, I stink to high heaven.” He’d kept a steady stream of communication going between them. Jace’s normal demeanor kept him generally quiet, rolling with whatever came his way. Not in this. He’d probably talked more in the last three days than he had in the last twenty years.

  “I need you to wake up, Colt. I can’t shower with you in this bed like this. Please wake up,” Jace pleaded, swinging his arms back and forth, side to side, walking closer to the bed.

  “If you’ll wake up, we can rethink your idea about the future. I know your doctor’s making plans for you. I don’t know exactly what they are, but whatever he decides will be okay. If you have to go back to New York for your care, I’ll be there if you want me to, or I can stay in Texas. We’ll figure it out. I’ll be wherever you want me. Just wake up. Please, wake up.” Jace walked up to Colt’s right side, the most broken and battered side of his body. He didn’t touch Colt, didn’t jostle the bed, but leaned over the gurney and placed a simple kiss on Colt’s lips.

  “Please wake up, Colton. I need you.” There was nothing, not even a twitch of his eye, and Jace sighed before saying another prayer. Please God, get him through this.

  Hours later Dr. Knox entered the room, Mitch following right behind him. Jace pushed himself out of the chair and shoved the fallen pieces of his hair behind his ear. He vowed right then he was cutting his hair as soon as possible.

  “He hasn’t come around, yet,” Jace said as he made his way to the end of the bed. There were no polite pleasantries, no coddling. The panic Jace felt prickled at him. He needed answers.

  “It’s normal. These things take time. We’ve arranged to have Colt transported to Dallas.” Dr. Knox said, not letting Jace fire off all the questions he had.

  “Are you certain that’s a good idea?” Jace crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the doctor. Dallas was better than New York, but still close enough for his father to try to intervene.

  “I believe it’s our best option for now,” Dr. Knox answered. Mitch was all but forgotten as he stood a couple of feet behind his father, listening to the conversation, not participating. “The orthopedic surgeon in Dallas happens to be a close friend of mine. He’s the best in his field and my preferred choice for Colt’s care,” Dr. Knox said.

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for him.” He battled with this decision. No matter how Jace played it out in his mind, he worried about Colt’s father, but on the other hand, he was grateful to know Colt would at least be close to him while he recovered.

  “Does that mean there’s no word on who did this?” Jace questioned, his gaze shooting up to Mitch’s. He stood tall, and solidly built much like an immovable object he so clearly put out into the world. His dark eyes and deeply tanned handsome face bore straight into Jace as he spoke.

  “No, nothing, and on an island this size, if anyone knew anything, they’d be bragging by now. There hasn’t been a peep. Colt’s rental at the house hasn’t been touched. All the ground work has led us to a big, fat nothing. We’re gonna have to restart the investigation when we get back to the mainland. There’s no choice,” Mitch said. He stayed back, spoke quietly, and matched Jace’s stance.

  “If you do that, won’t it draw attention to Colt?” Jace asked. He glanced over to the bed before shifting his focus to the doctor. How could they protect him on the mainland if they didn’t know who was responsible?

  “As the team physician, it’s within our rights to direct his care, but Mitch’s pulled some strings.” Mitch stepped closer to Jace and handed him a grocery sack. Jace took an envelope out of a Wal-Mart shopping bag. He juggled the bag, until he dropped it and opened the manila envelope, pulling out several documents, one being a New York State marriage license. It took Jace a minute to understand both his and Colt’s name were signed across the bottom.

  “I’ve looked into Colt’s background. He needs you to be involved in his care, Jace. There’s nothing but backstabbing, money grubbing sons of bitches everywhere he turns. It could have been anyone in his camp. They’re all shady,” Mitch said as he bent and picked up the shopping bag, pulling out a new pair of athletic shorts and T-shirt.

  “How’s he gonna feel about this?” Jace asked the first question that came to mind. He held a marriage license, tying Colt to him, and the paper looked authentic as hell.

  “Once he wakes, he can make his own decisions. For now, this protects him.” Dr. Knox smiled and inclined his head in Colt’s direction.

  “I also brought you a change of clothes. You need to go shower and find something solid to eat. Now go, everything will be okay.” Mitch reached out and hugged him, giving him a couple of pats on the back. “I’ll watch things in—” Mitch was cut off.

  “He’s mine. And as soo…” A gruff voice hissed in a breath. Surprised, they all turned toward Colt. He was staring at them, his eyes were open, not much more than slits, but they were open. “Fuck! Soon as I get my body moving, I’m kickin’ your ass.” Colt finally managed to get the words out between labored breaths. His voice was hoarse and weak. Also about the sexiest thing Jace had ever heard, and he was the first one to Colt’s bedside.

  “You’re awake,” Jace said, a smile broke across his face as he moved closer to the bed, grinning down at Colt.

  “I can’t move to kick his ass,” Colt muttered, his eyes on Jace. “Help me get up.”

  “You have to stop moving and lay still. You’ve been in an accident. You’re hurt,” Jace warned. Colt didn’t listen and kept struggling, so he carefully placed his hand on Colt’s chest to keep him still.

  “Colton, stop moving, son,” Dr. Knox scolded, his deep voice held authority. That caught Colt’s attention, and he stopped fighting, turning his head toward the doctor.

  “Where am I?” Colt’s voice cracked, along with his lips, and he tried to swipe his tongue across them, but it was too dry to do much.

  “You’re in a hospital in Hawaii. You had an automobile accident,” Dr. Knox said. Jace grabbed the cup with a straw. Colt took a couple of solid pulls from the straw and gave another loud groan.

  “That explains why my head hurts so fuckin’ bad,” Colt said and took another sip when Jace put the straw back in his mouth.

  Colt’s eyes landed on Mitch. He pushed the straw out of his mouth and narrowed his brow. Okay, maybe he didn’t narrow his brow. It was hard to tell with the condition of his face.

  “I’m kickin’ your ass.”

  “I welcome the opportunity,” Mitch grinned at Colt and remained standing at the foot of the bed.

  “Colt, this is my son, Mitch. He’s a Deputy US Marshal over the investigation of your accident.”

  “Shit,” Colt began but didn’t finish. His eyes closed and he was back asleep in a matter of seconds. As they all registered he’d truly fallen asleep, Colt woke suddenly again, his eyes connecting with Jace’s before he closed them again to sleep. The strain of the last few days lifted. Jace gently took Colt’s hand, being careful to keep his arm still, just like he’d done so many times over the last few days. The exhaustion of moments ago already faded as he looked down at his battered, bruised Colt. The injuries just seemed so much better with Colt responding.

  “I’ll get the nurse,” Mitch said, leaving them. Jace looked over at the doctor. He seemed visibly relieved too. Thank you, God!

  Chapter 31

  Colt lay in the hospital bed, his eyes glued to Jace. He’d been moved from ICU to his own private room, and from what he’d been told, he had a really nice view of the ocean. Not that it did Colt any good. On the positive side, at least
his visitors didn’t have to stare at boring white walls. He based that on his new glass half full attitude he’d taken on since he realized he couldn’t even scratch his own ass without help. Not good. Except on the positive side, Jace planned to scratch Colt’s ass for him, and really now, how could that be considered a bad thing?

  Besides his obvious problems, Colt only had limited options available to keep his mind occupied. Another half full deal, Jace provided enough entertainment to occupy him for hours. Currently, Jace prattled on about something, who knew what, like he’d done pretty much since Colt first woke. After a minute more of pretending to listen, Colt put his lips together and blew, trying to make a helicopter sound. Score! He totally caught Jace off guard. He glanced up, confused.

  “What?” Jace stopped, tucking the sheet around Colt’s newly casted legs and looked up at him.

  “You’re hovering,” Colt said, lifting an eyebrow. It was a challenge. One he hoped might get Jace back to the top of the bed, kissing him, and telling him how worried he’d been.

  “I’m not hovering. I’m taking care of you. Big difference.” Jace huffed and went back to his task of making sure Colt was all tucked in and wasn’t too cold. Then would come the task of making sure Colt wasn’t thirsty, then hungry, and then back to being too cold.

  “I don’t need taking care of,” Colt retorted, laughing at the look Jace gave him. He did have to admit he needed some tender, loving, care, but what he needed and wanted were two different things. Jace still hadn’t moved closer to kiss Colt, and damn he’d become a girl, but he wanted all those whispered sweet love words said to him while he was awake. Not just sleeping, like Jace seemed to do.