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SURVIVAL
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CHAPTER TWELVE
He sprinted across the next embankment and down into some forest that I'd
never known stood there. He had. And he never let go of my hand throughout the
duration of our sprint.
Trees whipped past us. Branches swiped at us. And the ground was startled as
our feet pounded onto it, reigning down.
Gunshots followed until we vanished inside the forest.
One bullet struck the bark next to my head and Jace whirled, ducked me
underneath his arm, hoisted me around and shot back in the same movement.
If he'd been born for anything, it was for this.
He'd been born for this, but I didn't see the exhilaration in his eyes. I
just saw a weary determination.
He shot again, just before we both completed the circle, and we heard a
startled cry in the distance.
His bullet rang true while theirs hadn't.
A car waited underneath our last embankment and Jace shoved me across the
front seat as he started the engine and peeled off with the lights still not
turned on.
"Who knew you were looking for me?" He asked, not as savage as before, but
firm.
"Lily Galverson. Ben—"
"Ben Cayn?"
"I just knew him as Ben the Bouncer."
I didn't know.
Jace frowned, but asked, "Who else?"
"And Oscar, he's a local."
"How'd you know where I'd be?"
I told the truth. "Lily told me where your brother's coffin had been moved. I
figured out the date and thought you'd be there."
"Lily knew you were coming? How long had she known about Brian's coffin?"
"I don't know. She wouldn't say."
I doubted Jace realized the full connection between myself and Lily. In fact,
there was a lot more about Galverson that I knew had been kept secret from
anyone who worked with Sal Galverson. That included Jace most of all.
"How'd you know Lily?" He asked as he took a sharp.
I watched for anyone following and I knew he'd noticed after a sharp look,
but he'd surrendered that chore as he reached for more bullets for the gun. He
thumbed them in, drove, and interrogated at the same time.
"We were friends in Pedlam."
"Lily was never in Pedlam."
"Yes, she was."
"I knew everything about Sal, trust me, Lily wasn't there."
"And trust me," I kept my voice monotone, "she was."
He let it go.
"Evans know you were headed this way?"
I didn't pause. I knew he was asking for reasons I couldn't fathom, but I
said simply, "No. I don't think Chance Evans even knows that I know Lily
Galverson."
"How'd you get close to Lily without Chance knowing? That's not done that
easily."
"But it's done and I did it."
We'd gone three miles and no one followed. I settled back in my seat and
remarked, "Ease off the accelerator. No one's back there."
His foot gentled on the accelerator and we both knew why he listened. If the
rabbit got lost in the brush, a roving eye found the speediest bullet first.
He took over checking for followers as he asked further, "Who's this Oscar
guy?"
"He's one of the gravediggers. I asked him where Brian's grave was."
Jace caught the slight inflection of emotion in my voice because he asked,
"What? Are you dating him now?"
"No."
I just had dinner at his home. With him and his wife.
I said anyway, "Just a drink…and he has a great wife."
"Where'd you see Ben to tell him you were coming my way?"
For a moment I just watched him. Mesmerized. I didn't answer for a second
because this was the agent who'd lived a lie for six years, lost a brother, and
gave up the woman he loved to finish his case.
He'd been a ghost since and untouchable.
I'd caught the ghost.
He repeated his question with more force and more impatience.
"He was visiting my brother. I saw him in the parking lot and I said that I'd
like to meet my brother's best friend."
Jace cursed. "I'm not best friends with your brother. And secondly—did you
tell him before he visited your brother or after?"
"Before."
He swore again and sighed, "Ben must've said something and Krein let the
message out. You might've been followed this entire time."
"No." I said automatically. I couldn't have been followed.
"If they're any good, trust me, you wouldn't have known you were
followed."
"No, I mean—I wasn't followed. There's no way they could've kept my trail
because I was dodging someone else, someone who's got more money than my
brother."
"Who'd that be?" Jace glanced sideways at me.
I hesitated, but finally relented, "Marcus Mallon."
"Mallon?" Jace asked sharply. He pierced through me with his grey eyes.
"Mallon is after you."
"Yes."
"Hell." He bit out. "They might've been shooting at you, not me."
"Marcus wouldn't want me hurt. They shot at you."
Jace chewed his words a moment before he asked, "And why would Marcus Mallon
not want you harmed? You leave the bed cold before he was done with you?"
I straightened in my seat and returned, frostily, "It's not your
business."
"I'm not your business and yet—here you are. And it
is my business because I'm the one driving with the gun and with you
shotgun. If you brought this to my doorstep, I—sure as hell—am making this my
business."
"Marcus wouldn't hurt me." I clipped out. Defiant.
And that was all he was getting. I saw Jace read the message as he studied my
profile. He saw the resolve and he relaxed—for now.
I read that message in his own depths too.
"Who does your brother work for now?"
The question threw me off for a moment.
I shrugged, "I don't know. It was the first time I talked to him since I was
ten."
"He didn't say anything? How'd he look?"
"Like he was in prison." I spewed out. "How do you think he looked?"
"Cut the smart comments." Jace snapped. "We don't have time for it. You know
exactly what I meant so tell me what I'm asking so I don't have to keep grilling
you. Who do you think your brother works for? And don't come off that you'd have
no idea because you were smart enough to find me, so give me some credit. I'm
not buying any bullshit story you're going to play right now."
I sighed and forced myself to calm before I managed out, "He might work for
Marcus."
"That makes sense. Mallon took over Sal's territory. And Krein likes to be
with who's in power. That makes more sense. And you said that Mallon was
following you, but they couldn't tag you?"
"No."
"Okay." He nodded. "Maybe," He uncurled the tight fingers that had gripped
the steering wheel to white knuckles and stretched them, one at a time, as he
mused, "they had someone out there, just in case. They didn't have a full
assault team because they didn't think they'd get lucky. So that means I have to
get you out of here before their reinforcements get into town."
"No." I said quickly. The answer was automatic and it came from my depths. I
wasn't going anywhere.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not going anywhere. What if they come after me? What if my brother asks
me if I found you? I can't lie to him. He'd know it was a lie and then what? I'd
be in the same amount of trouble, but you wouldn't be around."
"What is this? I'm not your boyfriend. We got shot at together, that's it.
Your life is not in danger. You don't know anything about me that they could get
anyway. Trust me, I'll be long gone from Paynes by the time they get around
here."
"I'm not leaving."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because I set out to do something and I'm not leaving until it's done."
"What?" He cried out, dumbfounded.
I clamped my mouth shut. The truth, I still wasn't sure.
"What? You better start talking or I'm pulling over right now and be damned
if you live or not."
"I don't know, okay?" I cried out. A rare moment. "I don't know. I just know
that I'm supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be with you, for whatever
reason."
I knew that I'd never see the same expression cross over Jace Lanser's
features again. It was stupefaction and he was speechless.
I'd unnerved the ghost and I didn't think it was wrong to take some amusement
at that little bit.
"I'm going to ask again—are you crazy?"
"No."
My eyes held his and we both read something in the others' depth.
Finally, as he turned another bend in the road, Jace cursed and settled back.
The argument had been postponed.
We drove in silence for twenty minutes and I would've been lost even if it
had been during the daylight hours.
Trees, trees, and more trees surrounded us until we came upon a log
cabin.
Jace walked inside without preamble and I stopped in amazement at the arsenal
I found among his walls and on his kitchen table.
He didn't care about my response and immediately turned on a radio to catch
any frequencies that might've carried over about us.
After five minutes, we'd heard nothing, and he turned for the bedroom.
I still stood just inside his doorway. Guns were everywhere. Guns, maps, and
photographs.
I followed as a meek lamb, suddenly humbled by the undercover world he
represented, into the bedroom.
Jace stripped off his shirt and replaced it with a snug black long-sleeve
shirt. He pulled on black hunting pants instead of the blue jeans he'd worn to
his brother's grave and he hoisted a holster up around his shoulders and clipped
it around his neck. Two guns went inside and another two were grabbed, one in
the small of his back and the other near his calf muscle.
For someone who hadn't been fazed in life, not by much, I was fazed as I
stood and watched.
Later I'd realize that I had drooled—just slightly.
Jace threw some knives onto the bed from his closet drawer, "How well do you
know this Oscar character?"
"Not very, but he seems to check out."
He thought a moment and nodded. "Can you stay with them? What about your
belongings? Do you need something?"
I leaned against the doorway and said dryly, "I travel light." Meaning—I had
one rule. I kept enough in one bag and it remained with me—at all times.
"Money?"
"I have some and I can get more if I need to."
Jace stopped and looked at me. "You're holding together more than I would've
expected."
"I've been shot at before."
He measured me and stated, "When?"
"The first time was when I was thirteen. There was a skirmish behind the gas
station. The second was at a friend's house. They had a party that got busted by
the Panthers." I cocked an eyebrow, "You didn't like any events going on that
your fingers weren't dipped into."
"You don't strike me as a girl that's lived the comfy lifestyle."
"I came to Pedlam when I was twelve to live with Krein." My eyes were
hardened when I said, "He had other ideas."
Jace watched. He'd stopped a few times and just watched, studied, measured. I
knew what he was doing. He was figuring out what I was made of. What would send
me running or what would send me into a faint.
I let him see and he nodded, slowly.
He hadn't been the only one studying and I commented, "You said you'd be long
gone from Paynes before. How far are you planning on going?"
He held my gaze for another moment and then broke away to finish packing a
bag.
I said instead, "You've been staying here awhile. When I look at those
pictures—what am I going to see? Are you working a job here? You're not in
Witness Protection and a friend told me that you were at a drug bust in Boston
awhile back."
That caught his attention again. He'd continued around the room and grabbed
what he deemed necessary.
He halted at my words and turned to me, "What's your friend into?"
"Not the best company. I broke ties when she sicced Marcus on me."
"You might want to double-check and make sure she's not a corpse. Mallon has
a way of killing off any loose ends."
"Marcus wouldn't kill a friend of mine."
Jace finished his bag and said evenly, "He's a powerful man. He doesn't get
that way by letting loose ends stay loose. It's Mob Boss 101."
He shoved past as I asked, incredulous, "Are you joking with me? About my
friend's life—are you joking at a time like this?"
Jace quickly rolled up every map on his table, stuffed them in his bag, and
shoved all the pictures into a folder that was also rolled up. He perused the
room as he murmured, "I think you've got blinders on when it comes to Marcus
Mallon."
"And I think you're a bit quick to jump to conclusions because of your
background."
Jace stopped and a faint grin crossed his plush lips. His grey eyes glinted
slight amusement as he murmured, "Maybe, but I doubt it." He was about to turn,
but stopped and jerked around quickly. He strode to the microwave and grabbed
bundles of cash that were stowed inside.
They went into the bag also and then he proclaimed, "I'm ready to go."
"Where are we going?"
"You, I'm taking to your friend Oscar's and me—you're not getting told that."
Jace said briskly as he strode to the car.
I followed and climbed inside as he threw the bag next to me and disappeared
around the house again.
A moment later, I saw him walking around the house, slowly, as he threw
gasoline onto the log cabin.
I watched, mesmerized with the casualness of his movements, as he finished
and lit a match. He dropped it, waited a moment to make sure the cabin took to
it, and then slid into the car.
"It's not going to burn the forest?" I asked. It was all I said as I just
watched the fire build and build.
Jace started the car and murmured, "Nah. Everything else is too alive. The
fire will burn itself out."
"Why'd you do that?"
"Because I left some things behind that I'd rather no one find."
"You've been here awhile." I commented. "Why are you here? It's not the most
conventional hideout."
Jace smirked, "What? Am I supposed to head to the Cayman Islands? Or maybe
Mexico? Because, trust me, they know me there probably more than you guys did in
Pedlam. Galverson was more connected to South America than the U.S."
"I would've thought you'd be famous."
"Right." Jace scoffed. "Because when I kill the one man who's kept most of
their countries in food and shelter, I really got a fan base. Especially when I
turned everything over to the DEA and all their other little factories and drug
deals got busted. Money travels a long way, by the time most people get filtered
money—they don't care where it comes from, but they do care when it stops
coming."
I knew what he was doing. Stalling. So I stated, "You might not want to take
me to Oscar's because, by now, there should be all sorts of government badges
walking around."
Jace glanced at me sharply and turned down a different road than the one he
used to drive to his cabin.
"And why would there be 'all sorts of government badges walking around'?"
"A body washed up on Oscar's land. Apparently, it's the first in a string of
murders. It's happened before—seven years ago."
"Your friend is Oscar Criole?"
"I know him as Oscar."
Jace swore and thought rapidly. I almost saw the wheels spinning when he
said, "Oscar Criole is not a gravedigger."
"What are you talking about?"
"Just—Criole's probably the reason those men were sent here. He was the
contact on Brian's grave. If he knew anything or ever thought when I'd be there,
he was supposed to call it in. That was his job."
He'd called me a fool. Oscar had said that I was doing a fool's job.
Jace added, "He called in everytime he found a footprint."
I opened my mouth and he cut me off with an unsympathetic glance, "I tapped
his lines."
My mouth closed.
"The guy got paid everytime he sent something in. He didn't just do it with
the guys after me. He did it with everyone. How do you think he has so much
land?"
My brain clicked on something and I tucked away feeling fooled, "Who is after
you, technically?"
"Broozer. Mallon. And Sorti."
"Sorti?"
He was new.
"She operates out of Saudia Arabia, those countries. She's not after me for
revenge. She wants me to work for her." Jace grinned to himself.
"And why are you here?"
Jace casually checked the rearview mirror as he said, "I think we've done
enough mindless chat."
"Do they have a base here? Is there a drug base here?"
"No." Jace said shortly.
"How'd you know who Oscar was? I just told you that a body washed up on his
lands. You knew who he was. How'd you know?"
Jace closed his mouth and I knew I'd get nothing.
I glared, I couldn't help it—"You're kinda irritating."
A glimmer of a smile crossed his features, but it vanished just as quick as
it teased. He shook his head and drawled, "You're made of tough stuff. I gotta
give that to you."
I waited.
"I knew Krein had a little sister." Jace glanced at me as he drove. "I knew
you weren't around and I never really thought about it. I had enough on my
plate, but I would've enjoyed meeting you back then."
"I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have met the real you."
Jace said dryly, "There is no real me."
"There's a real person. I just think that some don't know it or some," I
thought of Taryn. "don't want to know it."
"I can think of a few that applies with." Jace nodded. "So you think there's
a real me and that I just don't know it?"
"I never said that." I grinned coolly back. I shifted in my seat to face
towards him, "I just said that sometime people don't know their real self. And I
said that there's always a real person in them. I think, maybe, some of the more
intelligent people are able to convolute how that person comes out to everyone
else."
Interest glimmered in his grey eyes as he remarked, "So you think I'm pretty
smart?"
"I think you're damn near a genius, if you're not classified as such." I said
shortly, irritated at how he just played with the words. He was dancing a circle
around me and enjoying it at the same time.
"I'll take that as a compliment." Jace smirked with boyish charm.
In the few moments I'd shared the same air, I'd seen a savage, professional,
business, lethal, serious, joking, and now he showed his flirting side.
He was a chameleon.
A bona fide chameleon that was a genius. No wonder no one had been able to
touch the guy.
"You know," I started, staring with intent. "If these were normal
circumstances, I'd never ask about your brother, but…we're not at some scone and
tea party."
Awareness now ran through him.
I never stopped to consider how I knew that he prepared himself.
I just knew.
"Why'd you have your brother's coffin moved? You guys fought all the
time."
There was awareness, but there was also amusement and a wry acknowledgment
when he murmured, "Why don't you ask the real question. Why do I visit him on
his baptism birthday?"
"Because that answer's pretty obvious." I said blankly. "It's the date that
he got cleansed and purified. After what happened to him, it makes perfect sense
why you'd visit him on that day and plus—no one else would think about that
date."
Surprise now flashed in his depths.
"Well, you have me all figured out." Jace noted.
"I was serious when I asked why you had his coffin moved."
"Because I owe my little brother and visiting him is the least I could do. I
couldn't visit him in Pedlam."
"Does Taryn know where he is?"
Jace went blank. Anything I might've been able to read before—it was gone.
He'd allowed me to read him, but now…that allowance had been retracted.
He said coolly, "Taryn's got a different life now."
"She loved him. She'd want to know."
His head whipped towards mine and his eyes snapped, "Brian's been moved for
two years. When Taryn realizes it, I'll consider letting her know."
"Hurts, doesn't it?" I taunted, on the offense for a reason I couldn't
comprehend. "She moved on."
"You're kind of a bitch, you know that." Jace noted as he cut the engine. We
had parked outside a back road eatery. Three cars were in the parking lot and
smoke curled from the chimney. If another three cars had tried to park, one of
them would've been pushed to the street.
The eatery was named Ritto's and it was a log cabin placed in a picturesque
canopy. It was at the base of a mountain and I knew the windows inside would
face the tree roots that had crawled up the cliffside.
Jace's comment slid off my shoulders and I asked, "What are we doing
here?"
He was already out the door before I had unsnapped my seat belt. As I hurried
to his side, I heard him remark, "I'm hungry. I need some fuel before we have
another fight."
"I don't fight."
"Maya, you fight when you don't get what you want. We've had, at least, five
arguments since you walked up to me in the cemetery." Jace slid into a booth
beside the kitchen.
There was a better table with a prettier view, but I didn't ask why we sat
where we sat.
We sat by the nearest exit.
Just in case.
"You can't call me a bitch." I picked up our fight as Jace grabbed two menus.
"You don't know me well enough to call me a bitch."
He studied the menu as he remarked, from the corner of his mouth, "People
don't need to know people to know they're a bitch."
"I am a very nice person. I am not a bitch."
Jace closed the menu and glanced around for a waitress. He threw an arm over
the booth and said, casually, "You are a bitch. You have to be because you're a
survivor. Don't take it as an insult. It's…a compliment."
"I'm tough. I'm not a bitch."
His grey eyes pinned me in place and he stated, "You are ruthless. You worked
Lily Galverson and got information that you knew she'd know. Lily hates me
because I killed her father. You knew that and you also knew that Lily's pretty
damn smart. She keeps grudges. When a girl is ruthless, it just means that you
can be a bitch."
"I'm tough."
"No. You're manipulative. 'Bitch' just seems to summarize it all together.
Makes it more efficient."
"I hate that word. I'm not a bitch."
Jace sighed just as the server approached and his boyish charm was back in
place. The server had long blonde trussels that curled their tips into her bare
back. Her shirt rode high as she walked and had ridden itself just above her
belly button. The jeans hung low on her slim hips and she tilted one hip out and
rested a slender hand to it as she slipped an easy grin to Jace.
Jace sat back and enjoyed the view.
"Hi." Her nametag read Cassandra.
Jace said, "Hello."
"What can I get ya'll to drink?"
"I'll get a Coke and a burger. No fries, I'll have some vegetables
instead."
My eyebrows arched at that. Not the stereotypical redmeat-and-fries man.
"And you?" Cassandra asked, but her eyes held onto Jace.
Jace grinned appreciatively.
Cassandra's eyes roved up and down and twinkled with sexual promise.
"I'll have coffee and water." I said shortly, just before my hand slipped and
the pepper went flying. Somehow the cap had come undone and pepper sprayed all
over Cassandra. It coated the front of her shirt, inside her shirt, and there
was even a little coating over her belly button.
Jace merely looked at me, nonplussed.
Cassandra gasped and backed away as she started brushing at her clothing.
"I am so sorry. That was a complete accident. I am so sorry." I said
automatically and I even put a little heart into it.
She gave a forced smile and said tightly, "That's okay. I'll bring out the
drinks for ya'll."
As she walked away, still brushing at her clothing, Jace lifted an eyebrow
and said smoothly, "I have you pegged to an art."
"She's twelve."
She wasn't, but it wasn't my point.
"I'd attract more attention if I hadn't responded and technically—I didn't do
anything."
"For all the hoopla about you, you're really just a man, aren't you?" It was
meant as an insult.
Jace grinned. "You're just like your brother."
"I am nothing like my brother."
Except I was.
"I am very compassionate." I clarified.
"According to a lot of ladies, your brother was very compassionate."
"I didn't need to know that." I sighed and moved back in the booth. I
stretched my arms up and over my head. Just as a yawn escaped me, I glanced over
and saw appreciation in those smoky greys as they settled on my body.
I leaned forward and grinned, slowly, seductively, "I'm not twelve." I'd just
started a game, but I didn't care.
"No." Jace didn't wait a beat. He said smoothly, "You're very much not
twelve."
SURVIVAL
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
CHAPTER TWELVE
He sprinted across the next embankment and down into some forest that I'd
never known stood there. He had. And he never let go of my hand throughout the
duration of our sprint.
Trees whipped past us. Branches swiped at us. And the ground was startled as
our feet pounded onto it, reigning down.
Gunshots followed until we vanished inside the forest.
One bullet struck the bark next to my head and Jace whirled, ducked me
underneath his arm, hoisted me around and shot back in the same movement.
If he'd been born for anything, it was for this.
He'd been born for this, but I didn't see the exhilaration in his eyes. I
just saw a weary determination.
He shot again, just before we both completed the circle, and we heard a
startled cry in the distance.
His bullet rang true while theirs hadn't.
A car waited underneath our last embankment and Jace shoved me across the
front seat as he started the engine and peeled off with the lights still not
turned on.
"Who knew you were looking for me?" He asked, not as savage as before, but
firm.
"Lily Galverson. Ben—"
"Ben Cayn?"
"I just knew him as Ben the Bouncer."
I didn't know.
Jace frowned, but asked, "Who else?"
"And Oscar, he's a local."
"How'd you know where I'd be?"
I told the truth. "Lily told me where your brother's coffin had been moved. I
figured out the date and thought you'd be there."
"Lily knew you were coming? How long had she known about Brian's coffin?"
"I don't know. She wouldn't say."
I doubted Jace realized the full connection between myself and Lily. In fact,
there was a lot more about Galverson that I knew had been kept secret from
anyone who worked with Sal Galverson. That included Jace most of all.
"How'd you know Lily?" He asked as he took a sharp.
I watched for anyone following and I knew he'd noticed after a sharp look,
but he'd surrendered that chore as he reached for more bullets for the gun. He
thumbed them in, drove, and interrogated at the same time.
"We were friends in Pedlam."
"Lily was never in Pedlam."
"Yes, she was."
"I knew everything about Sal, trust me, Lily wasn't there."
"And trust me," I kept my voice monotone, "she was."
He let it go.
"Evans know you were headed this way?"
I didn't pause. I knew he was asking for reasons I couldn't fathom, but I
said simply, "No. I don't think Chance Evans even knows that I know Lily
Galverson."
"How'd you get close to Lily without Chance knowing? That's not done that
easily."
"But it's done and I did it."
We'd gone three miles and no one followed. I settled back in my seat and
remarked, "Ease off the accelerator. No one's back there."
His foot gentled on the accelerator and we both knew why he listened. If the
rabbit got lost in the brush, a roving eye found the speediest bullet first.
He took over checking for followers as he asked further, "Who's this Oscar
guy?"
"He's one of the gravediggers. I asked him where Brian's grave was."
Jace caught the slight inflection of emotion in my voice because he asked,
"What? Are you dating him now?"
"No."
I just had dinner at his home. With him and his wife.
I said anyway, "Just a drink…and he has a great wife."
"Where'd you see Ben to tell him you were coming my way?"
For a moment I just watched him. Mesmerized. I didn't answer for a second
because this was the agent who'd lived a lie for six years, lost a brother, and
gave up the woman he loved to finish his case.
He'd been a ghost since and untouchable.
I'd caught the ghost.
He repeated his question with more force and more impatience.
"He was visiting my brother. I saw him in the parking lot and I said that I'd
like to meet my brother's best friend."
Jace cursed. "I'm not best friends with your brother. And secondly—did you
tell him before he visited your brother or after?"
"Before."
He swore again and sighed, "Ben must've said something and Krein let the
message out. You might've been followed this entire time."
"No." I said automatically. I couldn't have been followed.
"If they're any good, trust me, you wouldn't have known you were
followed."
"No, I mean—I wasn't followed. There's no way they could've kept my trail
because I was dodging someone else, someone who's got more money than my
brother."
"Who'd that be?" Jace glanced sideways at me.
I hesitated, but finally relented, "Marcus Mallon."
"Mallon?" Jace asked sharply. He pierced through me with his grey eyes.
"Mallon is after you."
"Yes."
"Hell." He bit out. "They might've been shooting at you, not me."
"Marcus wouldn't want me hurt. They shot at you."
Jace chewed his words a moment before he asked, "And why would Marcus Mallon
not want you harmed? You leave the bed cold before he was done with you?"
I straightened in my seat and returned, frostily, "It's not your
business."
"I'm not your business and yet—here you are. And it
is my business because I'm the one driving with the gun and with you
shotgun. If you brought this to my doorstep, I—sure as hell—am making this my
business."
"Marcus wouldn't hurt me." I clipped out. Defiant.
And that was all he was getting. I saw Jace read the message as he studied my
profile. He saw the resolve and he relaxed—for now.
I read that message in his own depths too.
"Who does your brother work for now?"
The question threw me off for a moment.
I shrugged, "I don't know. It was the first time I talked to him since I was
ten."
"He didn't say anything? How'd he look?"
"Like he was in prison." I spewed out. "How do you think he looked?"
"Cut the smart comments." Jace snapped. "We don't have time for it. You know
exactly what I meant so tell me what I'm asking so I don't have to keep grilling
you. Who do you think your brother works for? And don't come off that you'd have
no idea because you were smart enough to find me, so give me some credit. I'm
not buying any bullshit story you're going to play right now."
I sighed and forced myself to calm before I managed out, "He might work for
Marcus."
"That makes sense. Mallon took over Sal's territory. And Krein likes to be
with who's in power. That makes more sense. And you said that Mallon was
following you, but they couldn't tag you?"
"No."
"Okay." He nodded. "Maybe," He uncurled the tight fingers that had gripped
the steering wheel to white knuckles and stretched them, one at a time, as he
mused, "they had someone out there, just in case. They didn't have a full
assault team because they didn't think they'd get lucky. So that means I have to
get you out of here before their reinforcements get into town."
"No." I said quickly. The answer was automatic and it came from my depths. I
wasn't going anywhere.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not going anywhere. What if they come after me? What if my brother asks
me if I found you? I can't lie to him. He'd know it was a lie and then what? I'd
be in the same amount of trouble, but you wouldn't be around."
"What is this? I'm not your boyfriend. We got shot at together, that's it.
Your life is not in danger. You don't know anything about me that they could get
anyway. Trust me, I'll be long gone from Paynes by the time they get around
here."
"I'm not leaving."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because I set out to do something and I'm not leaving until it's done."
"What?" He cried out, dumbfounded.
I clamped my mouth shut. The truth, I still wasn't sure.
"What? You better start talking or I'm pulling over right now and be damned
if you live or not."
"I don't know, okay?" I cried out. A rare moment. "I don't know. I just know
that I'm supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be with you, for whatever
reason."
I knew that I'd never see the same expression cross over Jace Lanser's
features again. It was stupefaction and he was speechless.
I'd unnerved the ghost and I didn't think it was wrong to take some amusement
at that little bit.
"I'm going to ask again—are you crazy?"
"No."
My eyes held his and we both read something in the others' depth.
Finally, as he turned another bend in the road, Jace cursed and settled back.
The argument had been postponed.
We drove in silence for twenty minutes and I would've been lost even if it
had been during the daylight hours.
Trees, trees, and more trees surrounded us until we came upon a log
cabin.
Jace walked inside without preamble and I stopped in amazement at the arsenal
I found among his walls and on his kitchen table.
He didn't care about my response and immediately turned on a radio to catch
any frequencies that might've carried over about us.
After five minutes, we'd heard nothing, and he turned for the bedroom.
I still stood just inside his doorway. Guns were everywhere. Guns, maps, and
photographs.
I followed as a meek lamb, suddenly humbled by the undercover world he
represented, into the bedroom.
Jace stripped off his shirt and replaced it with a snug black long-sleeve
shirt. He pulled on black hunting pants instead of the blue jeans he'd worn to
his brother's grave and he hoisted a holster up around his shoulders and clipped
it around his neck. Two guns went inside and another two were grabbed, one in
the small of his back and the other near his calf muscle.
For someone who hadn't been fazed in life, not by much, I was fazed as I
stood and watched.
Later I'd realize that I had drooled—just slightly.
Jace threw some knives onto the bed from his closet drawer, "How well do you
know this Oscar character?"
"Not very, but he seems to check out."
He thought a moment and nodded. "Can you stay with them? What about your
belongings? Do you need something?"
I leaned against the doorway and said dryly, "I travel light." Meaning—I had
one rule. I kept enough in one bag and it remained with me—at all times.
"Money?"
"I have some and I can get more if I need to."
Jace stopped and looked at me. "You're holding together more than I would've
expected."
"I've been shot at before."
He measured me and stated, "When?"
"The first time was when I was thirteen. There was a skirmish behind the gas
station. The second was at a friend's house. They had a party that got busted by
the Panthers." I cocked an eyebrow, "You didn't like any events going on that
your fingers weren't dipped into."
"You don't strike me as a girl that's lived the comfy lifestyle."
"I came to Pedlam when I was twelve to live with Krein." My eyes were
hardened when I said, "He had other ideas."
Jace watched. He'd stopped a few times and just watched, studied, measured. I
knew what he was doing. He was figuring out what I was made of. What would send
me running or what would send me into a faint.
I let him see and he nodded, slowly.
He hadn't been the only one studying and I commented, "You said you'd be long
gone from Paynes before. How far are you planning on going?"
He held my gaze for another moment and then broke away to finish packing a
bag.
I said instead, "You've been staying here awhile. When I look at those
pictures—what am I going to see? Are you working a job here? You're not in
Witness Protection and a friend told me that you were at a drug bust in Boston
awhile back."
That caught his attention again. He'd continued around the room and grabbed
what he deemed necessary.
He halted at my words and turned to me, "What's your friend into?"
"Not the best company. I broke ties when she sicced Marcus on me."
"You might want to double-check and make sure she's not a corpse. Mallon has
a way of killing off any loose ends."
"Marcus wouldn't kill a friend of mine."
Jace finished his bag and said evenly, "He's a powerful man. He doesn't get
that way by letting loose ends stay loose. It's Mob Boss 101."
He shoved past as I asked, incredulous, "Are you joking with me? About my
friend's life—are you joking at a time like this?"
Jace quickly rolled up every map on his table, stuffed them in his bag, and
shoved all the pictures into a folder that was also rolled up. He perused the
room as he murmured, "I think you've got blinders on when it comes to Marcus
Mallon."
"And I think you're a bit quick to jump to conclusions because of your
background."
Jace stopped and a faint grin crossed his plush lips. His grey eyes glinted
slight amusement as he murmured, "Maybe, but I doubt it." He was about to turn,
but stopped and jerked around quickly. He strode to the microwave and grabbed
bundles of cash that were stowed inside.
They went into the bag also and then he proclaimed, "I'm ready to go."
"Where are we going?"
"You, I'm taking to your friend Oscar's and me—you're not getting told that."
Jace said briskly as he strode to the car.
I followed and climbed inside as he threw the bag next to me and disappeared
around the house again.
A moment later, I saw him walking around the house, slowly, as he threw
gasoline onto the log cabin.
I watched, mesmerized with the casualness of his movements, as he finished
and lit a match. He dropped it, waited a moment to make sure the cabin took to
it, and then slid into the car.
"It's not going to burn the forest?" I asked. It was all I said as I just
watched the fire build and build.
Jace started the car and murmured, "Nah. Everything else is too alive. The
fire will burn itself out."
"Why'd you do that?"
"Because I left some things behind that I'd rather no one find."
"You've been here awhile." I commented. "Why are you here? It's not the most
conventional hideout."
Jace smirked, "What? Am I supposed to head to the Cayman Islands? Or maybe
Mexico? Because, trust me, they know me there probably more than you guys did in
Pedlam. Galverson was more connected to South America than the U.S."
"I would've thought you'd be famous."
"Right." Jace scoffed. "Because when I kill the one man who's kept most of
their countries in food and shelter, I really got a fan base. Especially when I
turned everything over to the DEA and all their other little factories and drug
deals got busted. Money travels a long way, by the time most people get filtered
money—they don't care where it comes from, but they do care when it stops
coming."
I knew what he was doing. Stalling. So I stated, "You might not want to take
me to Oscar's because, by now, there should be all sorts of government badges
walking around."
Jace glanced at me sharply and turned down a different road than the one he
used to drive to his cabin.
"And why would there be 'all sorts of government badges walking around'?"
"A body washed up on Oscar's land. Apparently, it's the first in a string of
murders. It's happened before—seven years ago."
"Your friend is Oscar Criole?"
"I know him as Oscar."
Jace swore and thought rapidly. I almost saw the wheels spinning when he
said, "Oscar Criole is not a gravedigger."
"What are you talking about?"
"Just—Criole's probably the reason those men were sent here. He was the
contact on Brian's grave. If he knew anything or ever thought when I'd be there,
he was supposed to call it in. That was his job."
He'd called me a fool. Oscar had said that I was doing a fool's job.
Jace added, "He called in everytime he found a footprint."
I opened my mouth and he cut me off with an unsympathetic glance, "I tapped
his lines."
My mouth closed.
"The guy got paid everytime he sent something in. He didn't just do it with
the guys after me. He did it with everyone. How do you think he has so much
land?"
My brain clicked on something and I tucked away feeling fooled, "Who is after
you, technically?"
"Broozer. Mallon. And Sorti."
"Sorti?"
He was new.
"She operates out of Saudia Arabia, those countries. She's not after me for
revenge. She wants me to work for her." Jace grinned to himself.
"And why are you here?"
Jace casually checked the rearview mirror as he said, "I think we've done
enough mindless chat."
"Do they have a base here? Is there a drug base here?"
"No." Jace said shortly.
"How'd you know who Oscar was? I just told you that a body washed up on his
lands. You knew who he was. How'd you know?"
Jace closed his mouth and I knew I'd get nothing.
I glared, I couldn't help it—"You're kinda irritating."
A glimmer of a smile crossed his features, but it vanished just as quick as
it teased. He shook his head and drawled, "You're made of tough stuff. I gotta
give that to you."
I waited.
"I knew Krein had a little sister." Jace glanced at me as he drove. "I knew
you weren't around and I never really thought about it. I had enough on my
plate, but I would've enjoyed meeting you back then."
"I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have met the real you."
Jace said dryly, "There is no real me."
"There's a real person. I just think that some don't know it or some," I
thought of Taryn. "don't want to know it."
"I can think of a few that applies with." Jace nodded. "So you think there's
a real me and that I just don't know it?"
"I never said that." I grinned coolly back. I shifted in my seat to face
towards him, "I just said that sometime people don't know their real self. And I
said that there's always a real person in them. I think, maybe, some of the more
intelligent people are able to convolute how that person comes out to everyone
else."
Interest glimmered in his grey eyes as he remarked, "So you think I'm pretty
smart?"
"I think you're damn near a genius, if you're not classified as such." I said
shortly, irritated at how he just played with the words. He was dancing a circle
around me and enjoying it at the same time.
"I'll take that as a compliment." Jace smirked with boyish charm.
In the few moments I'd shared the same air, I'd seen a savage, professional,
business, lethal, serious, joking, and now he showed his flirting side.
He was a chameleon.
A bona fide chameleon that was a genius. No wonder no one had been able to
touch the guy.
"You know," I started, staring with intent. "If these were normal
circumstances, I'd never ask about your brother, but…we're not at some scone and
tea party."
Awareness now ran through him.
I never stopped to consider how I knew that he prepared himself.
I just knew.
"Why'd you have your brother's coffin moved? You guys fought all the
time."
There was awareness, but there was also amusement and a wry acknowledgment
when he murmured, "Why don't you ask the real question. Why do I visit him on
his baptism birthday?"
"Because that answer's pretty obvious." I said blankly. "It's the date that
he got cleansed and purified. After what happened to him, it makes perfect sense
why you'd visit him on that day and plus—no one else would think about that
date."
Surprise now flashed in his depths.
"Well, you have me all figured out." Jace noted.
"I was serious when I asked why you had his coffin moved."
"Because I owe my little brother and visiting him is the least I could do. I
couldn't visit him in Pedlam."
"Does Taryn know where he is?"
Jace went blank. Anything I might've been able to read before—it was gone.
He'd allowed me to read him, but now…that allowance had been retracted.
He said coolly, "Taryn's got a different life now."
"She loved him. She'd want to know."
His head whipped towards mine and his eyes snapped, "Brian's been moved for
two years. When Taryn realizes it, I'll consider letting her know."
"Hurts, doesn't it?" I taunted, on the offense for a reason I couldn't
comprehend. "She moved on."
"You're kind of a bitch, you know that." Jace noted as he cut the engine. We
had parked outside a back road eatery. Three cars were in the parking lot and
smoke curled from the chimney. If another three cars had tried to park, one of
them would've been pushed to the street.
The eatery was named Ritto's and it was a log cabin placed in a picturesque
canopy. It was at the base of a mountain and I knew the windows inside would
face the tree roots that had crawled up the cliffside.
Jace's comment slid off my shoulders and I asked, "What are we doing
here?"
He was already out the door before I had unsnapped my seat belt. As I hurried
to his side, I heard him remark, "I'm hungry. I need some fuel before we have
another fight."
"I don't fight."
"Maya, you fight when you don't get what you want. We've had, at least, five
arguments since you walked up to me in the cemetery." Jace slid into a booth
beside the kitchen.
There was a better table with a prettier view, but I didn't ask why we sat
where we sat.
We sat by the nearest exit.
Just in case.
"You can't call me a bitch." I picked up our fight as Jace grabbed two menus.
"You don't know me well enough to call me a bitch."
He studied the menu as he remarked, from the corner of his mouth, "People
don't need to know people to know they're a bitch."
"I am a very nice person. I am not a bitch."
Jace closed the menu and glanced around for a waitress. He threw an arm over
the booth and said, casually, "You are a bitch. You have to be because you're a
survivor. Don't take it as an insult. It's…a compliment."
"I'm tough. I'm not a bitch."
His grey eyes pinned me in place and he stated, "You are ruthless. You worked
Lily Galverson and got information that you knew she'd know. Lily hates me
because I killed her father. You knew that and you also knew that Lily's pretty
damn smart. She keeps grudges. When a girl is ruthless, it just means that you
can be a bitch."
"I'm tough."
"No. You're manipulative. 'Bitch' just seems to summarize it all together.
Makes it more efficient."
"I hate that word. I'm not a bitch."
Jace sighed just as the server approached and his boyish charm was back in
place. The server had long blonde trussels that curled their tips into her bare
back. Her shirt rode high as she walked and had ridden itself just above her
belly button. The jeans hung low on her slim hips and she tilted one hip out and
rested a slender hand to it as she slipped an easy grin to Jace.
Jace sat back and enjoyed the view.
"Hi." Her nametag read Cassandra.
Jace said, "Hello."
"What can I get ya'll to drink?"
"I'll get a Coke and a burger. No fries, I'll have some vegetables
instead."
My eyebrows arched at that. Not the stereotypical redmeat-and-fries man.
"And you?" Cassandra asked, but her eyes held onto Jace.
Jace grinned appreciatively.
Cassandra's eyes roved up and down and twinkled with sexual promise.
"I'll have coffee and water." I said shortly, just before my hand slipped and
the pepper went flying. Somehow the cap had come undone and pepper sprayed all
over Cassandra. It coated the front of her shirt, inside her shirt, and there
was even a little coating over her belly button.
Jace merely looked at me, nonplussed.
Cassandra gasped and backed away as she started brushing at her clothing.
"I am so sorry. That was a complete accident. I am so sorry." I said
automatically and I even put a little heart into it.
She gave a forced smile and said tightly, "That's okay. I'll bring out the
drinks for ya'll."
As she walked away, still brushing at her clothing, Jace lifted an eyebrow
and said smoothly, "I have you pegged to an art."
"She's twelve."
She wasn't, but it wasn't my point.
"I'd attract more attention if I hadn't responded and technically—I didn't do
anything."
"For all the hoopla about you, you're really just a man, aren't you?" It was
meant as an insult.
Jace grinned. "You're just like your brother."
"I am nothing like my brother."
Except I was.
"I am very compassionate." I clarified.
"According to a lot of ladies, your brother was very compassionate."
"I didn't need to know that." I sighed and moved back in the booth. I
stretched my arms up and over my head. Just as a yawn escaped me, I glanced over
and saw appreciation in those smoky greys as they settled on my body.
I leaned forward and grinned, slowly, seductively, "I'm not twelve." I'd just
started a game, but I didn't care.
"No." Jace didn't wait a beat. He said smoothly, "You're very much not
twelve."