by Kaylea Cross
Tribiani was sobbing now, his swollen eyes fixed on the tablet and the wreckage of his burning house, knowing his wife was being reduced to ash inside.
Rafe let the video keep playing, the crackle of flames and concerned shouting of the neighbors providing a hellish backdrop to what he was about to do. He picked up the spare T-shirt sitting on the desk and approached Tribiani. The man’s head snapped up, sobs still wracking him as his gaze fixed on the shirt.
And then the coiled hose sitting on the floor.
Tribiani let out a garbled shout as Rafe tied the shirt securely around the man’s face. “I’ve already arranged for a transfer of the insurance money from your account to one of ours,” Rafe told him as he picked up the hose, ignoring his victim’s protests and thrashing. “But now I’ve got to teach you firsthand what it’s like to be on the receiving end of one of your favorite methods of persuasion.”
He squeezed the trigger, allowing the rushing water to flow for a few seconds, heightening Tribiani’s fear before he aimed the stream directly on the man’s covered face. Tribiani twisted and bucked like a landed fish, but it did him no good. He was bound and helpless, and couldn’t do a thing to avoid the horror of feeling suffocated.
Rafe made him pass out three times, reviving him with sharp backhands across the face.
“No more,” Tribiani pleaded, his voice shredded. “I’ll sign whatever you want, man. Just please, no more.”
Rafe smiled thinly, even though Tribiani couldn’t see it. “I don’t need you to sign shit, asshole. I just need you to die.”
He lifted the hose again, opened up the stream to full force and blasted it over the sodden T-shirt. Tribiani struggled for a few minutes, then finally went still. Rafe lowered the hose and opened the door to order his men to dispose of the body in the river. His mind was already on his next task.
Molly Boyd.
And how he could squeeze every last possible cent out of her.
****
The weapon felt so natural in his hands it was almost a part of him.
Lying prone on the cool grass of the field, Jase snugged the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and stared through the scope of the high-powered rifle at the metal target two hundred yards downrange. A lot closer than some of the targets he’d fired at, but it had been a while.
Exhaling, he paused a beat and squeezed the trigger.
Ping.
“Yeah, you’re right, Weaver. You’re rusty as hell,” Noah Buchanan muttered dryly next to him, laughing under his breath. “All this time off’s really played hell on your aim.”
“I’ll say,” Beckett chimed in from Jase’s left. “You didn’t even hit center mass. That’s just sad. You never would’ve made it through selection, shooting like that.”
Jase tuned out their banter and racked another round. It had been way too damn long since they’d done this.
After thinking over his offer for a few days Molly had agreed to rent the newly renovated house. He and the others had spent the morning moving her stuff over there, getting her furniture in place, and then he’d hit the gym.
The exertion still hadn’t burned away all his frustration about Molly. Shooting was cathartic for him, and one of the only things that seemed to stop his mind from spinning, made him stop thinking about all the shit in his head about her and Carter.
He focused on the target downrange, checked his alignment and the windage. The tops of the trees rustled slightly in the distance, indicating the breeze was less than five miles per hour.
Another exhalation. He squeezed the trigger again.
Ping.
“Get away wee man, is that all you Yanks do at the range? Fire at a stationary target so close my wee, ninety-two-year-old grannie could hit it with a rock? I say we see if he can still hit something that’s moving,” Mac put in.
Jase lowered the weapon and rolled to one elbow to look up at the Scotsman. “Who the hell invited you here again?”
“He did,” Mac and Beckett said at the same time, pointing at Noah.
The sheriff shrugged, grinning. “I didn’t know he was gonna be such a giant pain in the ass.”
“Yeah you did,” Jase said. Then to Mac, “Why don’t you head down there and put an apple on your head? I’ll see if I can shoot it off you as you run past.”
Mac laughed. “After what I just saw? I’ve nae got a death wish.”
Jase chuckled and got to his feet. “All right then, let’s see what you’ve got,” he said, inviting Mac to take a turn with a sweep of his arm.
“What I’ve got? I’ve got whatever it takes, laddie.” He lowered himself to his belly behind the rifle.
This was a hell of a lot better than therapy. For all of them.
Jase tormented Mac along with the others as the Scot took his turn. Damn, he’d missed the camaraderie he’d felt in the military.
He liked the order and routine of his new civilian job and needed the break from operational work, but he missed his old life sometimes too. Not the danger or crappy conditions, but the guys. Being with them in the field, being part of something that gave them a sense of pride and purpose, and knowing the guy beside you had your back no matter what. Since his visit with Molly the other night, however, he was even more convinced that making a major change might be good for him.
Transitioning back into civilian life was way harder than he realized it would be, and Carter’s death weighing on him made it that much worse. Remembering the good times and all the fun they’d shared helped only so much.
He rarely slept for more than four or five hours a night, and it was usually broken up by a nightmare or two. Sometimes they got mixed up with flashbacks, either about pulling Carter from the burning Humvee, or about the fight the night he died.
“You heading to Molly’s place after we have a drink?” Beckett asked him.
“I’ll stop by for a bit, clean up a few things.” There were a handful of things left to finish in her space, then he could focus more on the downstairs suite. Another few days should do it, and then she could find someone to rent it and take the financial stress off her shoulders.
Instead of heading to the Sea Hag or Beckett’s place for a beer after everyone took a turn on the rifle, Beckett suggested they go to the beach. In all the months he’d been here Jase hadn’t yet experienced a beach bonfire, and the prospect sounded ideal.
The sun had just set when they arrived down on a wide, practically deserted strip of beach near town. Becket built the fire while the rest of them set up the chairs and got the food and drinks ready. They sat around talking shit for well over an hour, laughing and joking while they demolished the beer and s’mores fixings Beckett had supplied.
“Wish I could stay longer, but I need some sleep before my shift in the morning,” Noah said, rising and stretching his arms over his head. “You boys have a good night.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mac said, jumping up and dusting sand off his jeans.
Noah slanted him a dubious look. “You just want me to move my stuff out of the garage, don’t you?”
Mac grinned, having moved into Noah’s empty house soon after the sheriff had moved next door into Poppy’s place. “That would be grand, thank you.”
Jase and Beckett shared a comfortable silence for a while after the others left. Jase soaked in the soothing rush of the waves on the sand, the flames bathing his face and chest in warmth as a cool breeze whipped over him. “Twenty degrees warmer, and this would be paradise,” he said finally.
“It already is.”
Jase wasn’t going to argue. He just preferred more tropical temperatures when he was at the beach.
“So, how’s Molly doing with everything?” Beckett asked, tipping his beer bottle to his mouth.
He shrugged. “Okay. You know her, she’ll soldier through anything put in her way.”
Beckett nodded, lowered his beer and settled his dark gaze on Jase in a way that made him want to squirm. “When are you gonna tell her how you feel?”
The question threw him completely off guard. “What?”
Beckett snorted. “I heard what Carter said to you that day in the bar. I’d never noticed anything between you and Molly before, but after he said that, it was pretty damn obvious.”
Embarrassed, Jase looked away, into the fire. He and Carter had had a major blow up about it a few days before he’d died. And those condemning words still pierced him like bullets.
You’re still hung up on her, huh? Yeah, you are. That’s so fucking sad, man.
Jase had been stunned. He’d never realized Carter had known how he felt about Molly. Sure as hell they’d never talked about it until that day.
You’ve always had a thing for her, but you couldn’t have her because she chose me. And you hate that, don’t you? You hate that she’s my wife.
“I’m not gonna tell her,” he finally answered.
“Ever?”
Jase shook his head. “Nope. No point.”
“You sure about that?”
“I’m sure.” He didn’t want Molly to know. She was already acting a little uncomfortable around him. The last thing he wanted was for her to figure it out and risk that invisible wedge driving them farther apart.
Although it was getting harder and harder to keep his feelings locked down around her now that she was moving on from Carter’s death, much less make them go away. And that put him in one hell of a dilemma.
The longer he stayed, the higher the chance he would let his feelings slip one day.
Chapter Seven
“This place is freaking fantastic,” Sierra commented as Molly completed the tour of her part of the house.
“It really is, isn’t it?” Molly had weighed the pros and cons about taking Jase up on his generous offer to rent it, and even though she was still a little uneasy about being indebted to him—not to mention her sudden and frankly disconcerting shift in perspective where he was concerned—she’d have been stupid to pass it up.
“Yes. It’s so you,” Poppy said.
Yeah, it was. Because Jase had made it that way. Which only made her love it more. “Thanks, I love it already.”
Molly led the way back into the kitchen. She hadn’t had a girls’ night in too long. Way too long. The past few months had been nothing but stress that had ended with the funeral, and now this latest issue with some intimidating guy claiming Carter owed him a huge amount of money was weighing on her mind. She’d needed this time to unwind with her girlfriends.
The kitchen smelled heavenly. “I can’t stand it anymore—I have to eat those pancakes you brought.”
“Yeah, serve ‘em up, Poppy,” said Sierra. “Food first, then unpacking and picture hanging later.”
They chatted in the kitchen while they helped themselves to the feast Poppy had generously brought with her. “I know you guys are busy with your men, but we need to do more of this,” Molly said, stuffing a bite of pancake into her mouth.
“I agree,” Poppy said, helping herself to more pancakes. She made the best in the entire universe.
Today it was Hawaiian pancakes studded with chopped macadamia nuts, and each one contained a fresh pineapple ring. She’d made a ridiculous caramel-mac nut topping to go with them. And there was vanilla ice cream in addition to the whipped cream, too. Because Poppy was a goddess and knew what preggo mamas liked to eat.
Molly shook her head. “You’re gonna make sure I put on all the weight I lost, aren’t you?” Due to all the stress and chaos, she’d dropped almost fifteen pounds since first finding out she was pregnant. If she kept eating like this, she’d put it all back on and then some in no time.
“Yes, ma’am,” Poppy replied, smiling as she transferred the last couple of pancakes from the hot griddle she’d brought with her to the serving platter. “If you don’t, it’s not for lack of effort on my part.”
“I can’t stop eating them,” Sierra groaned, helping herself to two more and reaching for the little pitcher of warm caramel-mac nut sauce on the table between her and Molly.
“You guys have barely put a dent in the pile I gave you,” Poppy said with a laugh.
“That’s because you keep putting more on there,” Molly mumbled around another mouthful. She swallowed, waved her fork at Sierra. “We’ll have to watch her at Christmastime. She’s one of those people who keeps refilling your Bailey’s without you noticing, and then you end up drinking most of a bottle without a clue. Not that I’ll be drinking this Christmas. Still, I’ll keep an eye on her for you.”
“You’re the best, Moll. That’s above and beyond, seriously.”
“Just one of the perks that comes with being my bestie.” She leaned back in her chair to smile over at Poppy. Both she and Sierra had been unbelievably good friends to Molly through this whole mess with Carter. They’d been nothing but supportive, and seemed excited about being honorary aunties next year. “That extends to you now too, you know. The bestie title,” she added to Poppy.
Poppy looked up from the stove, a touched smile flashing across her face. She’d had a tough life back in her hometown, thanks to the small-minded bigots and bullies she’d been forced to interact with. Molly was glad she’d settled into the community and joined their circle. “Same.”
“So, how’s our baby doing today?” Sierra asked her.
She’d had another check up that morning. “Great. Everything looks the way it should. My hormone levels all look good, and baby’s heart rate is perfect.”
“Of course it is,” she said, beaming like a proud aunt already.
“First ultrasound’s not for a few weeks yet.”
“Oh, that’s so exciting,” Poppy gushed. “Your first baby picture.”
Molly smiled, a bittersweet pang hitting her. “Yeah.” She’d always imagined that once she and Carter started a family, he would be with her at all the appointments. It still felt strange going through this alone.
“Do you want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Sierra asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. I’m torn.”
“I would totally want to know,” Sierra said, pouring more syrup over her pancakes. “I’m such a control freak.”
“Yeah, you are,” Molly agreed with a grin.
“Have you thought about names yet?” Poppy asked, joining them at the table.
“Some. Part of me thinks it should be something to honor Carter if it’s a boy, but I’m not sure how I’ll feel about that once I get close to term. Maybe for a middle name instead. I dunno yet. Haven’t thought of a girl’s name I love, either.”
Sierra nodded. “You’ve got lots of time to make that decision.”
“True.” But it sure seemed like time was flying. She was already more than four months along.
“I’ll go with you if you want. Just let me know.”
“Thanks.” Molly wasn’t sure if she wanted someone with her or not. Maybe she’d ask Jase to be there, if he was comfortable with it. As her trusted friend and the closest living link to Carter, the thought of having him there felt right.
For a moment she thought about bringing up the situation with him, then thought better of it. She wasn’t ready to talk about their changing relationship. Or her strange new feelings for him. Not even with her best friends.
She didn’t know if she could trust her feelings anyway. She’d only been separated from Carter for a couple of months when he’d died, and even though she hadn’t been in love with him anymore, she’d still had some grieving to do when he’d died. Even if she’d been living an emotional roller coaster a long time before that.
Was she growing more attached to Jase now simply because she was lonely and she’d become used to turning to him? Because she trusted him and he was always so good to her?
The heightened awareness and being attracted to him confused her. She couldn’t pinpoint when it had begun, but somewhere along the way her feelings for him had shifted past friendship. It was a hard thing to face.
“Anyway, enough about me and the baby,” s
he said, hating to be the center of attention, and she’d been that way too often over the past few months, for all the wrong reasons. “What’s the latest with the wedding plans? Have we got dresses yet?” she said to Sierra.
The doorbell rang a few minutes later. “That must be the flower girl,” Molly said, hurrying for the front door. “Hi, ya’ll,” she said to Ella and Tiana.
“Hey,” Tiana replied, her fiery hair flowing loose around her shoulders. Sticking with her Boho-chic style, today she wore a long sage-green skirt that flowed around her as she walked, and a white peasant-style blouse with flowers embroidered around the bodice.
Behind her, Ella wore a big smile, her blond hair up in a ponytail. “I brought a special guest,” she said, leading Walter in on his leash.
The ancient basset-spaniel mix waddled slowly behind her, eyes and ears drooping, his upper lip caught on one of the only remaining teeth in his floppy mouth, but his feathered tail was swishing back and forth across the hardwood floor.
He was the saddest-looking animal Molly had ever laid eyes on, his expression like someone had just run over his best friend in front of him. She had fallen in love with him on sight, and so did pretty much everyone else. He used his looks to his advantage that way.
“How’s my handsome boy?” Sierra gushed as she got out of her chair and bent down to greet him. “Did you miss me? Huh? Did you miss your mommy?” She reached out to scratch Walter’s soft ears and the little guy’s tail moved faster, his red-rimmed, droopy eyes gazing up at his human with total adoration.
“Are you guys hungry? Poppy brought over some Hawaiian pancakes.”
“I love pancakes,” Ella said, and headed straight for the kitchen.
Tiana chuckled. “Now she’s in heaven. It’s the first time she’s ever been a flower girl, so she’s really excited.”
In the kitchen, Ella was already piling pancakes onto a plate. “This is going to be the best wedding ever,” she declared.
