The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 2): Galilee Rising

by Harlow, Jennifer

  "Excuse me?"

  "I was twelve when my Pop died, and I was convinced for years I had some part in it. If I hadn't insisted on us leaving my mother, if I hadn't needed new shoes, blah blah blah then he wouldn't have been driving that cab and wouldn't have gotten shot. It made me angry, furious at the world but especially at myself, and I wasn't born little miss Zen to begin with," I chuckle. "But with time, and a lot of help from Justin, I came to realize I'd spent years being a fucking idiot. Blaming myself was just a way for me to control a situation that I had no control over. All I could control was my reaction. I worked hard to stop hating myself, at least for that. Of course then I did other things to hate myself for but…" I chuckle again. I glance over at him but can't tell much with the mask. I look away. "My point is you didn't create this monster. In fact I think you're the only thing keeping him from going nuclear. Literally. You and I both know your brother was born a sociopath. It was just a freak thing. A genetic mutation. He doesn't kill people because you didn't stand up to Dr. Mengele when you were a child, he does it because he has a mental disorder. A crossed wire. You couldn't have done a whole hell of a lot from stopping him down his path anymore than I could have stopped the man who shot my Pop at twelve years old. You have to let go of this misplaced guilt because you're drowning in it. And until you do, you will never have control of your own life. You'll never be able to stop him right here, right now. You'll just be alone with your pain. And then he wins."

  I shake my head. "I don't know about you, but I'm not okay with that. He doesn't get to win. He doesn't get to travel the world, doing whatever he damn well pleases while you're back here flogging yourself for his sins. Unless that's what you want. Hell, maybe you're happy in misery. Some are. My mother was. If that's the case, then you must be like a pig in shit right now. Alone, pushing people who care about you away, suffocating in guilt and leaving no room in your life for anything or anyone else. Good times." I turn to him, catching those gorgeous blue eyes. "So, are you? Happy?"

  We stare at one another for a second, my impassive eyes challenging his hooded ones. I know I'm victorious when he says, "I know what you're doing."

  "Is it working?" I ask with a smirk.

  "Yes."

  "Good." And I lean across, my lips finding his before the spell breaks. His stiffen at first as I'm sure warning bells chime in his mind, but I don't pull away. I'll win this war no matter how many dirty tricks I have to pull. But this battle lasts all of three seconds before he accepts defeat, moving his lips against mine tentatively at first then with the ferocity of a man lost in a desert who tastes water for the first time in days. I thought he'd be shy, tentative, but as usual with him I'm in for a delicious surprise. His tongue pushes past my barrier, finding mine to dance their dance. The only time he withdraws is to nibble on my lower lip. His fingers dig into my back, drawing me in even closer.

  Not close enough.

  I crawl onto his lap, straddling him, holding him, igniting parts of us both that we'd forgotten about in our self-imposed miseries. I don't know how long we make out like teenagers in this rat infested hovel, but I love every millisecond, every sensation of it. I just wish we didn't have all these clothes on. I want to run my fingers through his soft, wild hair. Burrow my fingers into the flesh of his back as he does the same to me. Why the hell have we waited so long? This is fucking amazing. I'm about to supernova. No more wasting time. I've never felt this much…intensity. Longing. Passion. Even with Harry. Or that night with Justin by The Falls. Didn't hold a goddamn candle to this.

  Eventually we have to break apart to breathe, both of us panting as if we'd rounded home base. This close I can actually see those blue eyes as he gazes up at me with that same amazed, frightened, and loving expression he had on the hospital rooftop. This time it doesn't scare me. I won't let it. I run my finger across his swollen lower lip. Mine pulses in time to another area south of the border. Our smiles move in unison before he leans forward to kiss me again.

  "Ahem."

  Oh, shit. I practically leap a foot in the air off him. When I land beside him, I find Tempest smirking in the doorway smirking. Thank God it's only him but still. I'm mortified. "Um…"

  "Hey, don't stop on my account," Tempest says.

  "We were just--" Nightingale says.

  "Killing time on a stakeout? Yeah, Lex and I sometimes kill time the same way."

  "You do?" Nightingale asks, shocked by this unprofessional revelation.

  Tempest scoffs at the hypocrisy. His gaze moves from us to the camera and laptop on the ground. "So, I got your messages. Sorry it took so long to get here. Looks like you've got things well in hand here though. If you want I can leave or--"

  "No," Nightingale says forcefully as he jumps up. "We-We still have a lot to do. We need to place the bugs, there's another warehouse to surveil, there are other leads to follow up." He glances at me. "Alone."

  "What?" I ask.

  "We can manage from here. Go home. Now. Please. It'll be fine now."

  Fuck a duck. His barriers shut like a steel trap again. I recognize the posture and expression. I did the same thing to Harry and just about every other person who tried to get close to me. Most gave up, save Justin. I'm still amazed he ever put up with me. I'm fuming at my dismissal, and I really want to dig my heels in, but know it won't do any good. Not with Tempest here. The interloper knows this too as he shoots me a sympathetic smile. Shit. I swallow my emotions and plaster on a poker face.

  "Um, fine. I'll let the big, strong men handle it from here. I need to go to my office anyway. Nightingale can get you up to speed."

  "I'll swing by later tonight if I have any questions or anything else develops," Tempest says, really meaning he'll come by to check on me and make excuses for his friend.

  "Whatever. Have fun with the rats. Call if you want me."

  As I move, Nightingale takes a tiny step away in case I accidently brush against him. This should sting, but instead I feel a sense of triumph. He's afraid to touch me. Afraid of what he might do. As I walk out of the room, the corners of my mouth move up into a smirk.

  Most people never understood me and Justin. Why two people from such different backgrounds and temperaments could be such good friends. What they never understood was we were basically the same person. Kindred spirits. Soul mates. And like him, I am as stubborn as a mule when something really matters to me. He didn't give up on me until the day he died. Hell, it's why he died. So as long as there's a glimmer of hope, even a half chance in hell, I'm not quitting on Jem. He needs me, especially now. No matter how many times that man pushes me away, I'll keep going back. Because he's worth it. Even in death my best friend is looking out for me. Giving me strength.

  And if Jem's half as much trouble as I was, I am gonna need it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cuckoo's Nest

  Mansion, sweet mansion. Cleaning things up at the office took longer than I anticipated, so all the happy feelings from earlier were sucked from me by international phone calls and paperwork. Tracking terrorists might be more dangerous but it sure beats mergers and acquisitions. I'm usually praying for someone to shoot at me after the second dull as hell hour.

  I'm fucking starving. Right on cue, as I pull off my jacket, Dobbs hobbles out from the kitchen sans food though. "I was getting worried," Dobbs says as he takes my coat.

  "Sorry, impromptu conference call. Is dinner ready?"

  His eyes narrow from confusion. "I thought you and Dr. Ambrose were dining out tonight."

  "What? No. Who told you that?"

  "Dr. Ambrose. He's been waiting in the living room for almost an hour."

  "What? He's here? Why didn't you call me?"

  "He told me he had."

  What the hell? "Um, thank you, Dobbs. That'll be all."

  As I walk toward the living room, I check both my phones. No calls. What--

  Oh, fuck.

  The moment I see the man on the couch, I know I'm as good as dead. It's Jem from tips
to toes. Same exact haircut, glasses, face, posture, even crumpled clothes and aftershave. But it's not Jem. My eyes say yes, but something deep inside knows there is no way in hell that's him. Which can only mean I have a mass murderer in my living room watching the news as if it was the most natural thing in the world? I manage to keep my face neutral as his eyes move to me a second after I step in. Even the nervous smile he shoots me is pure Jem. It sends a chill down my spine.

  "Hi," the doppelganger says with his voice.

  A million different scenarios flash through my mind. Excuse myself and call the guys? Suspicious. Scream for Dobbs? He'll kill us both. Attack him? Um, no. He can snap my neck with two fingers. Play along wins by a landslide. "Hey," I say with a grin. "This is a surprise."

  "I, uh, know," he says nervously. Jordan shuts off the TV and rises. "A pleasant one, I hope."

  "Always." Oh, shit I think I just entered a mental chess game with Bobby Fucking Fisher. What does he know? What does he suspect? Why the fuck is he here? Attacking him now seems like the smarter option. Damn, my purse with all my weapons is by the front door. To buy time, I move to the bar with my eyes averted. "Though, if you're here to discuss an investment in Ambrose Pharmaceuticals, I am in no mood."

  "That's not why I'm here, and we both know it."

  Shit. My heart starts pounding in my ears. "I figured." I pour myself water, using sheer willpower to stop my hands from trembling. Keep it together. I spin around with annoyance on my face. "So say your peace."

  "You have to stop investigating Cain. I know you haven't, even though I begged you to."

  "And how exactly do you know that?"

  He scoffs. "Please. I know you." He leaves it at that. Clever. "This isn't your fight."

  I scoff this time. "Please. The second that cowardly, psycho fuck set foot in my town, it became my fight."

  If I've offended him, it doesn't show. "You don't have to do this. You can sit this one out. Leave town for awhile."

  Okay, now I'm really confused. What the hell is he playing at? He moves toward me. Lord even his walk is all Jem. Jordan stops two feet in front of me, too damn close for comfort. Now I notice the subtle differences. The faint smile lines around the eyes and mouth. He smiles more than Jem. Not surprising. Villains always seem to be having more fun than heroes. Really, it's the eyes. Same color, same shape, but there's nothing in there. No sparkle. No light. No soul. He's doing a better than average job of hiding this fact, seeming sympathetic and concerned as he stares. Fuck, this is creepy.

  "Please. You cannot fathom what you are up against in that man. Please. If you care about me, you'll just leave. I can't keep going with you here. I worry all the time. Where you are, what you're doing. I can't concentrate. You're in my every thought every minute. He can get to you anytime. Anywhere. I…the mere thought paralyzes me. Please, just go."

  Oh. I get it now. My eyes narrow in confusion. Two can play this game. "Look…um, your concern is sweet and all, but uh, you're kind of making me uncomfortable here. Like, a lot. This is sort of coming out of left field here," I say with a nervous chuckle.

  "It is?" he asks, sounding hurt. Nice touch.

  "Uh, yeah. I never knew you felt this way. I mean, you're a nice guy and all, but I don't…consider you in that way. At all. I mean, I like working with you and teaching you to sail and whatnot, but that's it. I just think of you as a friend." I gaze down at the floor. "And I'm, uh, actually, um, seeing someone. He's stopping by soon." And he can't get here fucking fast enough.

  "I-I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me?"

  I narrow my eyes. "We're not exactly close, Jem. I don't know who you're seeing, if anyone. Come on," I say, placing my hands on my hips. "Where the hell is this coming from? Really? You've barely said twenty non-work related words to me since we've met. The only time I ever came close to flirting with you, you were horrified. You're obviously not thinking straight. All this bullshit with your brother is doing your head in. Get out of town for a few days, get some perspective. Jesus." I sip my water. "Now, I'm exhausted and I gotta get ready for Brendan."

  "Brendan Darby? The football player? Isn't he married?"

  "Spare me the lecture, okay? It's none of your damn business. Just go, okay? God!" Rolling my eyes, I take a step away. Checkma--shit! I make it only the one step before his hand clamps on my arm to stop me. I let out a gasp and almost jump out of my skin. The look on his face, complete with wide grin, stops my heart. "What--"

  "You're good. Real good. Had me fooled there for a moment."

  "Jem, what--"

  He squeezes my arm hard enough I wince. "Please don't insult my intelligence."

  "I don't…" His glare stops my denial dead. The jig is up. Surprised I lasted this long. I wipe the confusion off my face to match his expression. "Damn it."

  Plan B time. Old Faithful.

  I knee him in the balls with all my strength while at the same time smash my glass against his head, shattering it. Pain ripples through my hand and hopefully his head. He releases my arm, and I make a mad dash toward the door. I get all of five steps when a hand clamps my hair, snapping my head back hard enough for whiplash. Before I can process the pain, I'm flung over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions before bouncing onto the hard floor. My bleeding hand stings when I land. That was a stupid idea.

  "Get up," Jordan orders. I manage to rise, and when I turn I spot the gun pointed at me. Of course. At least his head is bleeding. One point for effort. I lift my hands in surrender. "Nice try. Now, sit down. Time for a real chat." Glaring at him, I do as he says. Jordan rests on the other end of the couch. "Know that if you scream for help, I kill you then the butler."

  "I won't scream. I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

  Sighing, he rolls his eyes. "Save the tough girl act. We've done enough lying for one evening, don't you think?" He wipes his blood with his sleeve. "Just out of professional curiosity, what was it that gave me away? A lot of time and research went into this meeting. Surveillance, breaking into his apartment, rehearsal. What was it?"

  "You're here for one. They don't come to the house, not since you literally blew into town. No contact anymore, at least not with me. But I knew for sure when you said you were the one who begged me to stop investigating. It wasn't Nightingale, it was Liberty," I lie. "Your brother and Tempest just backed her decision. I haven't heard from a one of them since. And third, your brother would never, not in a million years, hit on me. I've given him a dozen chances to, and he stared at me as if I was crazy. I don't think he has a lustful bone in his body, at least not for me. I would have found it." I scowl at him. "Not surprising, though. After what you did to him, you might as well have cut that part out yourself."

  "You really expect me to believe there's nothing between you two? I've been following him almost since he arrived in this hellhole of a city. I've seen the two of you together on multiple occasions looking rather cozy. He apparently even informed you of his double life."

  "That wasn't by choice. I figured it out early on. Came to town at the same time. Same height, weight, eyes, desire to shrink away whenever I touched him. I confronted him, he fessed up. Which is why we had so many meetings. Not only is my company thinking of investing in his wonder drug, but we were trying to take down a syndicate, which we did. We're both busy people, we found time whenever we could. But that's it. He's a colleague, and yes, a friend. And when you kill me, which I'm guessing is what you're here to do, he'll feel bad. You might even make him cry, but you won't destroy him. Just like you didn't before with Uma or all those times you attacked Independence in an attempt to gain his undivided attention. You know why? Because he's better than you. Smarter. Stronger." I meet his blank eyes, giving him the full force of my glare. "You will not win. He will beat you. Every. Time."

  "You know, for just a friend, and knowing him such a short time, you certainly do hold him in high regard."

  "Just calling it like I see it. I know his type. Like I know yours. You're nothing but a s
elfish man-boy throwing a tantrum because your brother is ignoring you."

  "A bit simplistic, don't you think?"

  "Is it? When your brother might, just might be starting to find a glimmer happiness, of normality, you have to show up, to what? Save him from this horrible fate? Or maybe you just can't accept the fact he can live without you. Because from where I'm sitting, it doesn't seem like you can live without him. You're acting like a psychotic, jealous ex-girlfriend whose boyfriend has moved on. Is that it? You want to fuck your brother, and if you can't have him no one else can, Jordy?"

  He pauses, and then raises an eyebrow. "Who says I haven't? Fucked him, that is. It was just the two of us for many years. Many cold, lonely nights in that compound with only each other for comfort."

  His grin grows as the revulsion on my face intensifies. "You're lying," I say.

  "Don't you wish I was," he says. "No, you don't have a sibling, let alone a twin, so you wouldn't understand. Since birth you have a built in friend and built in competitor all through life. A comfort and a nightmare. And there are times you feel like one person. You're both in your own microcosm, a hostage to one another, and yes, there's no room for anyone else. And try as you might, you cannot be happy without them. And you hate them for it. But how can you hate someone you love so much?"

  "I don't know," I say.

  "Because you can't know, so please refrain from judging and commenting on concepts you know nothing of," he says with an undercurrent of anger. Cain's quiet for a few tense seconds as he studies me. When his shoulders relax, I know I've passed his test. "No, my brother could never love you. You're far too low-brow. Uma had class. She was bright. Beautiful. You're just…common. You couldn't turn his head if it was on a top."

  "Fuck you asshole," I hiss.

  "Have I hit a nerve? I suppose I must have. It must be hard having a penchant for falling in love with men above your weight class."