by Joya Ryan
“How do you know this?” I asked.
A sly grin stretched his amazing lips. “Major business deals are no secret.”
“Are we supposed to think this information is useful?” Cal asked.
“Yes,” Jack replied. “Because the meeting still stands.”
I shrugged. “Okay, that has nothing to do with me. He didn’t leave me anything.”
“Then why have two attempts been made on your life?” Jack countered.
That question was so simple, yet laced with layers of confusion. “I wouldn’t say attempts.”
That sounded dramatic, and I needed to hold on to any sanity I had left. Words like murder, death threats, and attempts chipped away at the shaky foundation of calm I was sporting.
“The fire was started in your room,” Cal said. “We got the report. The arson investigator is going to call you today, but the accelerant was doused all over your bed.” He lifted his chin at the big radiology sign behind me. “Not to mention, the person who hit you in the car today was obviously trying to hurt you.”
My skull instantly felt ten times heavier. That information, tied with Jack’s reasoning was making my skin prick with fear. Whoever burned my house down had thought I’d been home sleeping. Doused my bed with lighter fluid? And if I had been home? I didn’t want to think of that. But reality refused to be ignored, and the notion that the car accident Bea and I were in looked more and more like an attempt to injure us on purpose came into focus. Bea was in X-ray right now, in pain. Because of me.
I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to piece out every emotion rolling through me. I was afraid. Trying so hard not to be…but I was. And it sickened me. I was tired of facing this alone.
The men before me were a special kind of danger all their own and the exact worst thing for me. Yet I craved them. The warmth of Cal and the heat of Jack. But it was time I used my own logic before emotion. I thought of Bea’s words. Thought of what Harper told me.
Do whatever it takes to get through this.
“I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”
“Good,” Jack said. “Then you’ll stay at my house.”
Cal laughed. The deep chuckle would have been comforting if a stiff glare aimed at Jack didn’t accompany it. “Your house, huh? No. She’s more comfortable at my house.” Cal looked at me.
“Comfortable?” Jack’s voice was cool and challenging. “That’s a large assumption.”
“Not assumption. I know for a fact she likes my bed.”
Jack’s lips pulled back from his teeth on a pissed off exhale. “My security system is better than yours,” he stated sharply. “Lana’s safety is first and foremost. And I have no doubt I can make her perfectly comfortable in my home.”
“Enough!” I broke in. “This bickering is ridiculous. I didn’t even say I’d stay with either of you.”
“It’s the only logical solution,” Jack said.
Cal took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. “Jack does have a good alarm system. You’ll be safe there.”
I could have sworn I heard Cal’s teeth snap around that statement. Jack was satisfied and nodded once. And my options were limited to…zero. The risk had heightened after this car accident and the thought of going back to the hotel, or anywhere, alone made dread stream through my muscles.
They both stared at me. Waiting.
With a shallow inhale, I said, “Okay.”
“Good.” Jack turned to Cal, about to say something, but he was cut off by the doctor approaching.
“I’m looking for Beatrice’s nephew?” the doctor asked, looking between Cal and Jack.
“That’s me,” Cal said and stepped toward the doctor.
When the doctor nodded and started walking away with Cal by his side, Jack said, “I’d like to know what’s going on with Bea.”
“Are you family?” the doctor asked quickly.
A muscle ticked in Jack’s jaw. He shook his head once and the doctor just gave an uncomfortable smile. After an explanation about HIPA and privacy, he went back to talking with Cal, leaving Jack and me behind to watch their backs.
I looked at Jack. Power and strength in a suit ready to bend the world to his will. And he could. But there, in a poorly lit hospital hallway, he stared in the direction of Cal and the doctor with a look of pain on his face.
Jack Powell was all things powerful…and the only family he had in the world were Cal and Bea. A family that biologically wasn’t his, so he stood there, waiting.
It was a terrible feeling. One I recognized well. In that moment, I decided to put all the anger aside and deal with it later. Deal with all my feelings for Jack later. Because, right then, he was hurting in his own way. He needed control. Needed to protect just like Cal did, he just went about it in his own way. And he loved Bea. Very much.
I slipped my hand into his.
He looked at me, then at our hands, but said nothing.
I didn’t say anything either. Just stood there, trying this time, to be his wall…one he could lean against.
He gave my hand a squeeze, those dark eyes searching my face like I’d just given him the answer to the universe.
“Doc says she’ll be okay. They’re going to cast her, but I can take her home here shortly,” Cal said, coming to stand in front of us. When he looked at mine and Jack’s hands intertwined, he raised a brow.
I dropped Jack’s hand, which he clearly didn’t like.
“Fine,” Jack said, and tugged on the cuff of his suit. “Once you leave with Bea, you want to set her up for the next couple weeks?”
Cal nodded. “Caribbean?”
“Or Arizona.”
Caribbean? Arizona? They were either speaking in code words or their own special language. Or were they just taking a quick geography listing test?
“I’ll see you in forty-eight hours,” Cal said. Forty-eight hours? Cal must be going on shift at the station again. His schedule had to be all messed up with running in and out of work like he was. “In the meantime, you’re going to look into this company selling issue?”
Jack nodded.
“I still don’t understand why my father’s company is an issue.”
“The sale of it is concerning,” Jack started. “Since the meeting still stands, it is assumed his wife is taking over and continuing forward.”
“Why is this so concerning?”
“Because money is involved. A lot of money. And people do stupid things for money.”
“But my father’s company, profits or otherwise, doesn’t involve me,” I said again. To which Jack crossed his arms.
“That we know of. But paperwork, legalities, and logistics tend to hide. I think you’re more involved than you realize.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know yet. But I have someone looking in to all of this.”
Great. If things weren’t crazy enough, another shadow of doubt got added to my father’s company. Jack’s logic made some sense. Brock had been looking for something in my house. Clearly one or both VanBurens didn’t want me around. But why?
“So, your plan is that I stay in your house while this person you hired looks in to all of this?”
“My plan is to keep you safe until this issue in its entirety is resolved and you are no longer in danger.”
“When is the sale of company supposed to happen?”
“In the afternoon of January second.”
That was a few weeks away…something I opened my mouth to say, but Jack cut me off before the first syllable came out.
“Don’t attempt to argue with me. You’re staying with me, for as long as it takes.”
“I’m not yours to control,” I said.
He crowded my space. “I’m looking for much more than control,” he rasped, so only I could hear. “And deny it all you want, but you are mine, Lana. I recall you moaning that very admission while I was buried inside you.”
My lips tingled and my body shot light like a freshly tappe
d snare drum. I was caught in his eyes, his dominating presence. All thoughts were routed to the one moment Jack had just painted in my mind. I had been his. Welcomed that thought. But that was the past.
“As you well know, control is something I enjoy, but in this circumstance, my main objective is your safety,” he said, straightening his shoulders and moving away from me. His presence was hot, but with the few inches of distance, it was quickly cooling. And I wanted it back. So badly I wanted that heat back. How did he do that? Go from blood burning words to indifference in zero point two seconds?
He didn’t fight fair, and my heart had the scars to prove it. Pressing my lips together, I tried to physically stop words, questions, anger, from coming out. Speech would only make things worse at this point. Because in the end, Jack was right. I’d done things my way, and Bea had gotten hurt. I couldn’t argue. Didn’t want to, because I cared about her. And, like it or not, the fire flared the fear that I’d been carrying this whole time. Someone was after me. And wasn’t seeming to go away.
Jack moved beside me and rested his palm on my lower back. “Keep me posted,” he said to Cal, then guided me down the hallway toward the exit. He was so close that his touch and scent enveloped my senses and reminded me of a time I’d gotten lost in both. Had been wrapped up in all that intensity that was radiating under his strong frame.
I glanced over my shoulder at Cal. He tossed me a wink and said, “I’ll see you soon.”
I nodded. Jack stopped for a beat, to throw his own look at Cal. The thoughts that radiated between the two of them were so palpable I could yank them out of the air.
And maybe Bea had been right. I was standing in the middle of two very strong, very alpha men, who both had no problem going after what they wanted.
~
In the time it took to get my measly bag of things from Cal’s to Jack’s house, he hadn’t said a word to me, and I hadn’t said a word to him either. What was I supposed to say? It was a car ride, and how did I broach the subject of the past months, about him leaving—all of it—in a handful of miles?
Truth was, I didn’t know what Jack’s response would be, and I didn’t know if I’d want to hear it anyway.
It was done.
We were done.
Had been for a while.
Yet the void was pulsing like it was a living, breathing part of my body. I ignored it. Same as I had since he left.
He unlocked his front door and ushered me inside. I tugged the strap of my small bag that held a few items of clothing and toiletries I’d purchased since the fire, up on my shoulder. All I could afford at the moment, since everything had been burned.
“Would you like something to eat?” he asked.
“I just want to go to bed.” After the accident with Bea, going to the hotel, and now back at Jack’s, it had been a long day. It was getting dark, and while it may not be overly late, I was exhausted.
He looked at me for a long moment, then finally headed up stairs and I followed. I was determined to act as a guest. Like I hadn’t crested these stairs several times. Like I hadn’t been in Jack’s arms one of the many times we’d climbed them. But I couldn’t deny that the hardwood was a welcome sight, just like his scent and the warmth of his home.
When we reached the landing of the second floor, I saw the door to his bedroom down the hall and immediately turned the opposite direction, only to be hit with the sight of his office. The door was wide open, and I could see his desk. The massive centerpiece where I’d laid when he first tasted my body all those months ago.
Shivers broke over me. Staying here was a bad idea. But I couldn’t argue safety anymore. And my choices were limited.
He took my bag off my shoulder in a quick, yet graceful maneuver, and walked towards his room.
“Ah, excuse me,” I said, bounding after him. I didn’t reach him until we were in the middle of his massive bedroom, the storm I’d once gotten caught up in. It looked exactly the same. Gray walls, white sheets on a bed that once was a cloud I lost myself in. The memory stung my eyes.
“I’d like my things back, and I’ll be staying in the guest room,” I informed him.
“You think so?” he said with a hint of amusement.
I took a deep breath and his scent engulfed me. He was standing before me. So close I could feel him, but I kept my eyes closed. Hoping that maybe he’d just fade away if I did.
“Interesting,” he said, a single finger tracing my jawline. Not reacting to his touch was an impossibility. His touch affected me. And what was worse, he knew it. “Last time you were in this room, your eyes were open the whole time…watching…” His breath hit my ear. “Do you remember, baby? Remember how you clung to me?”
My eyes shot open and met his. Harnessing all the anger I could, I whispered, “I try to forget.”
He stood to his full height and looked down at me as if assessing a challenge.
“We’ll test your memory later,” he said, then motioned toward his master bathroom. “You can shower in there if you’d like.”
I did want a shower. Especially one with hot water.
Keeping my chin held up, I grabbed my bag back from him and headed into the bathroom. Although, after the stare down with Jack, a cold shower was sounding more necessary.
Chapter 7
The shower did little to calm my nerves. I couldn’t deny the amazing scent of lavender shampoo. After taking time to scrub away the drama from the past couple weeks, I started feeling like a normal human again. I put the loofah back on the hook and…
I ran my fingers over it once more.
The pink loofah.
Glancing around, I took a quick inventory of all the items in the shower. Everything from the soap to the conditioner was meant for a woman. That lavender shampoo I loved so much was actually my favorite. Just like the soap was.
I rinsed off quickly, stepped out, and wrapped a towel around me. Was this some elaborate plan? My one track mind was running on raw emotion as I marched out of the bathroom, bypassing the large open closet—I froze and looked in.
Shirts, sweaters, jeans and boots. All my size. All things I would pick out. He’d already bought them? No, no way was he doing this to me again.
I threw open the door that separated me from the master bedroom.
“You’re unbelievable,” I snapped.
He was already sitting in bed, as if sleep eluded him. Moonlight streamed in from the windows, making the gray walls look like a dancing rain cloud.
“Care to elaborate?” he said with sarcasm and stood. He was in black boxer briefs and all chiseled muscle and man. The way his abs flexed and his hips moved with every step toward me made my skin tighten and my mouth water. He was beautiful. Always had been. But with the soft white glow from the moon, his tanned skin held a sheen of silver. Like a god descending from a storm.
His dark eyes fixed on mine and I took a deep breath and forced composure…let my anger guide me. Oh, I’ll elaborate alright.
“How dare you set me up again,” I said, stepping further into his room.
“You mean, how dare I see to your needs?”
“This is still a game to you, isn’t it? You knew I’d cave. Knew you’d get me to stay here. And you lined your closet and your bathroom with stuff for me?”
“Yes. And this is no game. It never was a game. How can I make you understand that?”
“Look at the closet and tell me how I’m supposed to think differently.”
“You coming here, being with me, was a matter of time. Not some strategy.”
I shook my head. Fury setting in. “You always have a plan, don’t you?”
“No,” he snapped. “There are times I’m caught off guard and have no fucking clue what to do. And even when I gain some kind of control, my best laid plans are shot to hell.” He looked me dead in the eye. I was uncertain who was angrier. Because it was clear Jack was upset with me. Which only pissed me off more.
All the anger I’d saved up was coming to the
surface. The one thing I’d been dying to do since he left, since I found out about the arrangement, was confront him.
“You say you care? Say you think of my safety? That I’m yours?” My chest heaved against the knot of my towel. “You left me. You had a deal with Cal, and both—”
“I don’t want to talk about Cal,” he said, continuing his slow stalk toward me.
“Good!” I shot back. “I don’t either. I want to talk about you. How you think you can just tell me you care about me, tell me you believe me, then leave me. Now you’re back thinking you can come in a save the day? Protect me? I’m not the person I once was.”
“I know,” he said with truth in his voice.
“I was fine,” I said, warding off the brittle way the last word came out. “You came into my life. Now, I’m broken—no, not even broken. Broken would be a luxury I’d gladly take.” One rogue tear fell, but I batted it away quickly, keeping my anger instead of sadness. “I’m empty.”
He stopped. Both feet planted on the floor and I watched a deep, dark wave of emotion roll over his skin like lotion.
“I was so angry with you,” he said so quietly I barely heard him. His black eyes burned with the very feeling he was describing.
He was angry with me? I was just about to ask him “what the hell” when his stillness was broken and he took another step toward me. His shoulders moved slow and graceful, like an animal ready to pounce.
“I wanted to kill that bastard that hurt you, that kept hurting you.” His voice was jagged. “I hated that he’d stood in my office, right in front of me…” His fist clenched, but what was scarier was the single word he’d said that struck my chest hard.
Hate.
Jack hated that he’d conversed with Brock before knowing the kind of man he was. And I was the one who put Brock in front of him to begin with.
My chin started to quiver, but I folded my lips together to try to stop it. I didn’t trust myself to speak. Didn’t trust the anger I was clinging to because it was dissipating quickly and being replaced with more of that emptiness I was coming to recognize well.