by Amy Gamet
35
Nineteen hours later, Jax sat in his car and stared at the pale yellow house across the street. A tire swing hung from a tree in the yard, and he imagined Ralph’s son or daughter playing there alone.
Had Jessa had a boy or a girl? Either way, it ate Jax up inside to think of the child growing up without the dad who would have loved him so much.
The child would be beautiful, he was sure. Even half of Jessa’s genes would have made certain of that. He imagined she’d had a girl with black hair like her own, the Cherokee blood showing strong in the little girl’s face.
And she’d never know her father.
It was Jax’s fault. All of it. His decisions had gotten Ralph killed, and Jax ate, slept, and bathed with the weight of that responsibility every day.
He’d driven all night to get here, not stopping to sleep and barely allowing himself to think as the seasons flew by his window. He owed Jessa that much. Hell, he owed her a lot more than this, but that was a debt he’d always be unable to pay.
Fatigue pulled at him, weighing him down as he stepped out of his car and made his way up the walk, flanked by rows of pink and purple flowers on either side.
What had the last two years been like for her?
Grief could change people — make them bitter — but she’d have had to stay strong for the child. Surely the baby would have brought her joy despite everything she’d lost, tempering the blow.
Maybe she’d even remarried.
The thought put him off. His own mind had yet to move on from Ralph’s death, and he couldn’t believe she would have been able to, either, even though the men must be on her like bees on honey.
She was a spitfire — all long legs and loud laughter that made it clear Ralph was the light of her life. She just glowed, in a way he’d never seen a woman glow. She was…mesmerizing.
He rang the bell and waited, his palms damp.
The front door opened and she appeared, her dark hair hanging straight to her waist, just as he remembered.
His chest felt tight. “Hi, Jessa.”
Something was different, an aloofness in her stare, and he was disappointed the light he remembered wasn’t shining today.
“Jax.” She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorjamb. “What are you doing here?”
The action pushed her breasts together and her cleavage poked out of her shirt. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her chest, along with a rosy flush, as if she’d been working hard.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
She hesitated before stepping back for him to enter. The living room was nearly empty, a few open boxes scattered about and the carpet rolled up, a broom leaning against a wall.
“Are you moving?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He was aware of the tension in the air, the way she didn’t invite him to sit down or ask how he’d been, but he longed to know how she’d managed with the baby and where they were going now.
He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You look tired,” she said.
“I drove all night.”
“Why?”
Eight hundred days he’d been waiting to say the words, more than two years of wishing for this moment to arrive, imagining what it would be like to ease her pain the only way he could. “We got him, Jessa. Steele is dead.”
The slightest lift of her chin was the only indication she’d heard him. She almost looked…
Angry.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry it took so long. I wanted to take him down earlier, I really did, but…”
“Get out.”
“What?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Get out of my house.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you’d be happy.”
She pointed to the door with her whole arm. “Take your sorry, cowardly ass, and get the fuck out of my house, now.”
He’d never heard her swear, never seen her angry at anyone, and he wondered where the baby was that she would use language like that without concern.
She was always so gentle, so kind.
She hates me.
That much was clear.
He nodded. He walked to the door, then met her eyes one last time. “I’m sorry, Jessa. I really am. If you knew how often I think about you and the baby…”
She stood up and stormed to the door. “Just go!”
It was then that he really saw the pain, the tears waiting to burst from her eyes and the tightness she held in her shoulders. He stepped out into the sunny day, his eyes catching again on the pink and purple flowers that hinted at happiness inside, and turned back to her. “What happened?” he asked.
Her face crumpled and she slammed the door between them.
36
Jessa stared critically at herself in the mirror and took a sip of wine.
Her silver tank came together just beneath her neck, leaving the tanned skin of her collarbones exposed on either side. She wore no bra for the straps to show, her pert breasts tenting the fabric of her shirt suggestively.
She turned to the side, a swath of golden skin showing between her top and her white jeans, the tiniest strip of hot pink panties visible at her waist.
Her makeup accentuated her best features. Gray eyes, full lips, shapely brows.
She was ready.
Unless time had changed the leader of HERO Force, Jax would be easier to find than a toucan on a sandy beach. Summerville had exactly one hotel, which just happened to be situated directly across the street from its only bar.
He was exhausted and it was over two hours to Dallas, so he’d be staying the night in town. But right about now, he would be at the bar drinking whiskey. If she was lucky, he’d been there for a while.
The slightest jangle of nerves rattled in her stomach as she pulled out of the drive, but she never wavered in her intention. Jax Andersson had taken away the only two things that mattered in her life — Ralph, and the baby she’d miscarried when Ralph died.
No one could bring her husband back, but in the hours since Jax left her house, she’d realized he could give her the only other thing she wanted.
Jax Andersson owed her a child, and it was time for him to pay the piper.
37
Jax Andersson paced around the conference table. “You used HERO Force intelligence and weapons to fulfill a personal vendetta.”
“Ralph had a right to justice,” said Hawk.
“I have a right to know what the fuck is going on in my unit.”
“You’d have told me not to go.”
“Damn straight I’d have told you not to go. You’d be sitting in a federal prison right now if Steele hadn’t been involved in human trafficking.”
But he was, and Trevor and his fellow HERO Force members were being lauded as real heroes by every major media outlet in the land. Steele had more than a hundred people locked up in his compound. If that bridge hadn’t blown, he wouldn’t have gotten caught at all.
Jax braced himself on the table. “I’ve got to know that you’re being honest with me. That this team is your first priority.”
“It is now, Jax.”
“How many of the team knew what you were doing?”
Trevor set his lips in a firm line. “I won’t answer that.”
“Son of a fucking pup.” Jax ran his hand through his hair. “Tell me why I should keep you on HERO Force, why I shouldn’t can your ass and find somebody else?”
Trevor stood and pushed his chair in. “Because I’m the one you want on your six. You know it and I know it. When it starts raining flaming shit, I’ll get you out of there or die trying.”
“Not good enough.”
“Because I saved your life back at Steele’s even though I knew it would cost me Olivia.”
Jax stared at him for what seemed a long time. “Fine. We go wheels up in five days. Can you do that?”
“I can.”
“Some Columbian drug cartel.”
“I’ll be there.”
> “And Hawk?”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t get the girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“You gave up. You didn’t die trying when the flaming shit started falling from the sky.”
“That’s different.”
“I’ve got your six, too, Hawk. And you and that woman have unfinished business.”
Hawk narrowed his eyes. “Speaking of unfinished business, how’d it go with Jessa?”
Jax turned his head slowly, leveling his icy gaze on Hawk. “Fine.”
“Was she happy?” asked Hawk.
“No.”
“Glad to see you?”
“You should go see Olivia before we leave town. Now get the fuck out of here.”
38
Olivia’s ears were ringing through the valley of the shadow of death. The only things she could see were the petals of the flowers on Marco’s casket trembling in the rain. Hard to believe he was in there, that the spirit had left his body, just like that.
Just like Ellie and Frank before him.
She suspected Marco had them killed, though she would never know for sure now. The Office of Homeland Security had filled her in on some of Marco’s illegal activities. Combined with what she already knew, it was no longer a stretch to imagine he was capable of the things he was accused of.
Guilt had been her constant companion these last three days, even though it made no sense. It just was, and it likely always would be.
Would you feel so guilty if you hadn’t been sleeping with the man who killed him?
As if reading her mind, Bella took her hand and whispered in her ear. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Olivia dropped her eyes to her sister’s shoes, a pair of heels too sexy for anyone’s funeral.
Typical.
Since reuniting with her sister, Olivia had regained her memories of Bella, and most of her life, for that matter. It seemed she had nothing else to hide from herself now that Marco was gone.
She let her sister’s hand go and gazed beyond their little shelter to the cemetery beyond. A movement in the distance caught her eye. A lone mourner too athletically built to be a civilian, and a rush of sexual awareness zapped through her, quickly changing to anger. What was he doing here?
A flash of light far off to her left snagged her ire, and her head spun to see it. The paparazzi was out in full force, though the cemetery had cordoned them off in a small section about two hundred feet away. Now that her memory was back, she was Brooke Barrons once again, with all that entailed. And the only thing more exciting than her announcement of who her fiancé had been was the news that he was no longer alive.
Bella gently turned her, and Olivia realized the service was over. People were mouthing condolences Olivia didn’t hear as she felt Trevor’s presence burning a hole in the back of her head.
She needn’t have worried. He didn’t approach her until the last of the mourners and photographers were gone. She was upset, the days between Marco’s murder and now doing nothing to ease her pain.
He wore a dark suit and tie, and he walked through the rain like he wasn’t even getting wet. His eyes, when she could see them, were sobering and still. “I came to pay my respects,” he said.
Bella looked from one to the other. “I’ll wait for you in the car.” She walked away.
Olivia glared at Trevor. “Do you think that’s funny?”
“No. This can’t be easy for you.”
The sincerity in his eyes was her undoing. Tears came for the first time since Marco died.
Why now? Why in front of this man, the one who was responsible for Marco’s death and her own transgressions? All of the true mourners had left her unaffected, but the one man who was glad Marco was gone had managed to touch her heart.
He opened his arms slightly. “Come here.”
She shook her head, the tears coming harder because she wanted to go to him more than anything.
“I’m sorry, Olivia.”
She wiped tears from her cheeks. “For what?”
“For having to kill him when you asked me not to. For hurting you. For caring about you and making love to you. I was selfish.” He rattled the coins in his pocket. “I wanted you, I hated him, and everything else be damned. Hell, if it weren’t for me, you might have gotten to Steele’s house that day after all, and things would have turned out very differently.”
“I wasn’t going to Marco’s.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “I was going to the cabin.” She exhaled hard and rubbed her temples. “I needed to get my memories before I left him for good, to remember who I was when I stood on my own two feet. Ironic, isn’t it? That I went there searching for my past, and I arrived there without one?”
He smiled a sardonic grin. “What kind of memories?”
“Photographs of my family and Ellie and Frank that were up in the attic. And I needed to face that house. I hadn’t been able to bring myself there since they died.”
The sky became lighter, and Olivia realized the rain had stopped. She stared at the heavy clouds, haunted by the questions she would never get answered definitively.
“Do you think Marco killed Ellie and Frank?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She nodded and bit her lip. “I think so, too. I didn’t need him enough when they were alive.” She could see it clearly now, how Marco had used her dependence on others to mold himself into the perfect man for her.
If only she’d been stronger. Able to stand on her own two feet.
“What made you decide to end your engagement?” asked Trevor.
“I overheard Gallant talking to Johnson about the shipment they just got in.” She looked at Trevor, then dropped her eyes. “They said some disgusting things. Things about the girls and what they would do to them. It didn’t make sense, so I asked Marco about it and he flipped out, grabbing me by the arm hard enough to leave bruises and saying it was none of my business.”
“I remember seeing the bruises on your arm after the accident.”
She bent down and retrieved her purse. “I should get going.”
“Olivia, I want to see you again.”
She stood and shook her head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”
“I think it is.” He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. “Hear me out. I’ve been obsessed. For the last two years, I spent every free moment thinking about avenging Ralph’s death. I was so focused on what had been done to him, what had been done to me, that I stopped caring about anyone or anything else.
“Then I ran into your car, and everything changed. My weapons were gone. Satellite pictures and maps. And there you were, helpless.
“Don’t you see?” he asked. “Caring for you forced me to loosen my grip on my plans for Steele. I couldn’t do both. I hated it, at first. I resented you. And then I started to like it. I started to like you, even more than I hated him.”
He took her hand in his. “You saved me, and I fell for you. I fell for you hard.”
Olivia’s eyes were wary. “But you still wanted revenge, and you made sure you got it.”
“But it was no longer the only thing I wanted in my life. And when you begged me not to kill Steele, I heard you. I wasn’t going to do it until he pulled his gun on Jax.” He turned toward her. “Give me another chance, Livy. Give us another chance.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Because you don’t want to, or because you feel guilty?”
“Because I am guilty.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then quickly opened them. “And while you may like me depending on you, I think it’s high time I learn to take care of myself. If I’d done that years ago, I never would have ended up with Marco in the first place.”
39
Bella passed Olivia the ice cream and opened another box of pictures. “It isn’t your fault.”
Olivia frowned, the muscles at the corners of her mouth pulling down hard. “If you knew what
I did, you wouldn’t say that anymore.”
“So tell me. Tell me all of it.”
Olivia shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not? You’re spending an awful lot of energy mentally flogging yourself. The least you can do is share the whole story so I can flog you, too.” She held up a picture. “Is this Aunt Holly or Uncle Mark?”
“I have no idea.”
“Maybe you’re afraid I won’t think what you did was so bad,” said Bella.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if I think it’s understandable and oh-so-very-human, while you think it’s the worst thing a person can do, you probably don’t want to hear that. You’re not ready to forgive yourself.”
Olivia let her spoon sink deep into the ice cream, pulling out chunks of chocolate and fudge. “I don’t deserve to be forgiven.”
“Would you be so upset with yourself if Marco hadn’t died?”
“I don’t know.” She pushed the ice cream away. “Probably not.”
Bella sighed. “Come on, pass that over here.” She reached for the carton. “Who was the hot guy at the funeral?”
“Trevor Hawkins.”
“Is he the one you were stranded with at the cabin?”
Olivia nodded.
“While you had amnesia.”
She nodded again.
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened, Livy.”
Olivia rested her cheek against the cool wood of the table. “I knew I was engaged to someone else, and I slept with him anyway.” An image of them making love filled her mind, and she shook her head to clear it. “He’s the one who killed Marco.”
Bella’s eyes went wide. “No shit? He killed him for you?”
“No! I asked him not to, and he killed him anyway.”
“Wait. Why would the guy you were banging kill the guy you were engaged to if it wasn’t to get him out of the picture?”
“You make me sound so wonderful.”