Perilous Games (Gray Tower Book 3)

by J. M. Brister

  When Mercer was seated, Jack asked, “So what the fuck is up with you?”

  Mercer bristled.

  What did Jack mean by that? Everything was fine, right?

  Nothing is fine, dumbass, he thought. You’ve been sulking after a woman who you purposely pushed away for a damned month now.

  “I don’t know what you mean by that,” he said stiffly.

  “Yes, you do,” Jack persisted. “Look, I overheard your conversations with that fancy agent. I saw the way you looked at Miss Cole. It’s a no-brainer to me that you’re in love with her.”

  Damn it. Why did the man have to be so perceptive? Nothing got past Jack Hunter.

  “I…” Mercer trailed off, not knowing what to say.

  “I’m still talking,” Jack said, though it sounded more lighthearted than angry. “I was half-expecting you to have a girlfriend hanging around this place by now, and instead, you’re sulking about like a kicked puppy. What the hell happened?”

  “Jack, I don’t want to talk about this right now. If it’s not affecting my missions, then it’s not an issue.”

  “I’m not talking to you as your boss. I’m talking to you as your damned friend. Now tell me…what happened?”

  It was then that Mercer realized he was going to have to tell his friend. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to tell someone rather than keep it all pent up inside?

  “I pushed her away,” Mercer admitted.

  “Why?”

  Good question.

  “Because she deserves better than what I can give her.”

  There. He had said it out loud. Shouldn’t he feel better now? Because right now, he felt even worse.

  “What the fuck does that even mean?”

  “It means that she doesn’t need some scarred up, emotionally dead, workaholic. That’s what.”

  “I call bullshit. First off, nobody gives a damn about how you look. I know ten women off the top of my head at Gray Tower who would give anything to get you in bed. Chicks dig the scars, right?

  “Second, I know what happened to you in Afghanistan was horrific. But you’ve grown so much since then. You’re not suicidal for one thing. You’ve made friendships here. And you’ve fallen big time for a woman. You’re not emotionally dead. You just need to take your damned walls down.

  “Third, I know what Gray Tower means to you. Having a purpose here pulled you from the brink as it did for me. But eventually, you’re going to need more than that. Let me tell you that even though being in a relationship is damned harder than I ever expected, it’s made me a better man, and it’s made me appreciate my work all the more because I have something to come home to. I know what I’m fighting for now.

  “And lastly,” he said, pointing to the doorway. “Have you seen my woman down that hallway? Do you think for a second that I deserve her? I fucking don’t, man, but I try every damned day to make her happy. That’s what counts. Don’t blow a chance at love because your head is up your ass.”

  Mercer sat there stunned. He couldn’t believe that he was having this conversation with Jack Hunter, the guy who hadn’t had a steady girlfriend in years and was now suddenly smitten with the IT girl. Jack was right on all accounts though. Mercer indeed was being hard-headed and a complete idiot. He had allowed the perfect woman to walk right out of his life, one who wanted him as badly as he wanted her. But what could he do about it now? He had blown it.

  “You’re…you’re right,” Mercer admitted, a sudden sense of dread filling him.

  What if she was with Anderson now? What if she didn’t want him back? Now that he had decided that he indeed wanted to be with her, the desperation was rising exponentially.

  “I know I’m right,” Jack said with a grin. “I’m permitting you to take a week off. If you head out now, you can make it to Ohio by this evening. I heard you finally got your SUV fixed.”

  “Yeah, but…I think I blew it with her. You didn’t see the way she looked at me when I shot her down. And besides, she’s probably with that douchebag Anderson guy. You heard that he wanted to get back together with her.”

  “So what?” Jack said, shaking his head. “Take a damned chance and go and see her. The worst she can do is say no. Then at least you’ll know for sure.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Mercer admitted.

  “You know it. Now, get going. I don’t want to see you around here for a week. Got it? Either win her back or take a vacation. I’ll be back here trying to get our money back from that Charlotte operation. FBI won’t comp us for anything, and we’re in the red on the whole thing. Bryant is pissed. And on top of that, we didn’t get much intel from Marino or Shepherd. It’s a clusterfuck.

  “The only thing that we know for sure is that Marino partnered with Shepherd because he wanted to bet against certain banking stocks—ones that would have been affected by the bombs. He would have made a lot of money too if the plan had gone off successfully. I guess it makes sense, but that doesn’t give Gray Tower anything to work with.

  “Anyhow, get your ass in gear. I don’t want to see your face around here for a week.”

  “Understood,” Mercer said, getting up from his seat.

  The prospect of driving up to Ohio was suddenly exhilarating. He was going to get his woman back.

  His woman.

  A feeling of possessiveness overwhelmed him. He had to win her back if it took him crawling on his knees—even his bad knee if that was what it took.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Ashlen sat on the patio of her house in Hamilton. It was evening and the sun was setting along the backside of her house. It was a beautiful scene, but she wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. So much had happened in the last month that she was weary to the bone.

  Once the FBI had cleared her to come back home, there was a lot of mayhem with the media. Everyone wanted an interview with the woman who had been kidnapped by Bruce Marino. However, she had downright refused to talk to anyone in the media about what had happened to her. She just didn’t feel comfortable, and the thought of sharing her ordeal with millions of people unnerved her. For the first two weeks, she had been hounded by reporters, but things had died down after the media had found another flavor of the month to report on.

  The peace and quiet around her home had been welcoming, but her dreams had turned against her after a few weeks of being back in Ohio. She kept reliving some of her experiences during her kidnapping and attempted rape. She woke up every night dripping in sweat from the most horrible nightmares. It was to the point where she had scheduled an appointment with a psychologist. She had to do something. This was no way to live.

  The fact that she was going this alone was the worst part. There was no support for her as her uncle was MIA, and she worked from home. She had been texting Paul here and there, but it was mostly telling him that she needed more time to think about getting back together. She still wasn’t sure what to do about him, so she kept putting it off.

  And, of course, Mercer had kept his promise of not seeing her again, which was the biggest hurt of them all.

  So, she sat at home, struggling through her personal demons, wishing that she could unburden herself with someone she cared about.

  After the first week of being home, she had completely neglected her blog. The readership had gone up tenfold with all her media attention. It had made her a ton of money in online advertisements, which paid by the number of hits her blog got from readers visiting the website. However, she had decided to discontinue her blog after much thought. She couldn’t bear thinking about trying to find love so publicly anymore.

  Maybe she had just given up on finding someone altogether? Maybe that was why she kept brushing Paul off? Even though Mercer hadn’t loved her, she had loved him fiercely. It felt like a betrayal to her own heart to try and find someone else at this time. She needed more time to heal. And so, Miss Single in Cincy would have to retire.

  The only bright side to her whole ordeal was that a publishing company, knowing that she
was a skilled writer, had contacted her with a book deal, specifically about what happened with her and Marino. She had been apprehensive about writing something so terrifying to her, but she also realized that it might be the only way to get what had happened to her out of her system. Writing the book would be her catharsis. Since there was no pending trial on anyone involved in her kidnapping, she was officially cleared by the government to write her book, though she would have to run the whole thing through Gray Tower before she published it. They could not be mentioned at all, so it would be tricky side-stepping that whole bit.

  And of course, she was going to leave out any parts that hinted of a romance between her and Mercer or even of her and Paul. No one needed to know about any of that.

  Now, as Ashlen sat on her back patio, a glass of white wine in her hand and the warm Ohio spring air hitting her face, she tried to relax and forget for a little bit. She had been mostly successful at it for most of the evening. She had gone through a couple of glasses of wine and was feeling mellow. Ashlen was feeling so relaxed that she didn’t see the figure slowly approaching her from her side yard.

  Chapter 28

  Mercer had been watching Ashlen for so long that he couldn’t stand it any longer. When he had met her in the doorway of her hotel room in Charlotte, he had been aching with need to tell her the truth: that he was head over heels in love with her. He knew that he had broken her heart by leaving. It had been an idiotic thing to do, and he shouldn’t have done it. But he also knew that Jack was right when he told him that he had to attempt to get her back—no matter what.

  While watching her, he had noted that her bruises had healed, but she looked as if she had lost a large amount of weight on her already thin frame. That worried him. He started thinking of the hell she had been through and for once was starting to realize that she had needed someone to be there for her when she was in her darkest hour. He had once been there himself. It had been Jack who had pulled him back from the brink. Who did Ashlen have?

  Mercer could have been the one to help her, but he ran away. The realization of how badly he had blown it was starting to hit him hard. How could he have been so blind?

  Then, the thought hit him that maybe she did indeed have someone. Anderson could be her boyfriend by now, and they could be fucking each other’s brains out. That thought both angered and saddened him, but he had to know for sure.

  When he finally decided to go up to where she was sitting on that patio, he didn’t care what the repercussions were. Mercer needed to tell her that he loved her. If she had moved on or didn’t want him anymore, he was prepared to suffer the consequences. If she rejected him as he had her, he would be ready to leave her and never bother her again.

  So, there he was, crossing her yard around the back of her house, the now fixed Chevy Tahoe parked along the street. She was sitting on a lounge chair on her back porch, a glass of wine in her hand. She sat motionless, staring off into space. Her face had healed beautifully, but he knew that emotionally, she was struggling. She was in a white cotton tank and blue jeans that looked incredible on her, but her expression looked weary.

  When he approached, her body didn’t move; she didn’t even flinch. He stepped onto the concrete patio and stood to the side of her. Still, she didn’t move. She didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. Was she so out of it that she didn’t even know that he was there? Or was she just ignoring him?

  “Ashlen…” He breathed. “Ash…” He had to correct himself.

  At this point, he didn’t know what to call her or what to say to her for that matter. He had screwed things up so badly with her that he wasn’t sure if he could repair the damage.

  At his voice, she blinked and turned her head, looking straight at him. However, she didn’t say a word, and a few moments later, she turned her head back to where she had been staring previously. His heart sank when he watched her reaction, and he realized that it was too late.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Ashlen blinked as she stared at the figure standing to her side. The black shadow was, of course, Mercer. She wasn’t surprised; she had imagined him so many times previously that seeing him didn’t bother her. She had experienced so many daydreams and nightmares with him in them that she was almost starting to get used to them. So, she did was she always did when she saw things that weren’t real. She suspected that she had some form of PTSD but wouldn’t know for certain until her appointment.

  She looked for a moment into his brown eyes. He was even dressed the same as she had always known him: black pants, black shirt, black hair on the longer side, scars and all. Of course, he wasn’t there. She had relived enough of her nightmares to know that she must be in a dream right now. Besides, her last encounter with him had been so final that she knew not to ever expect him again.

  Even when she heard his voice call out, “Ashlen,” and then “Ash,” she had to ignore it. So, she turned her head back to her wine, tired of dealing with her screwed up self.

  It was when a firm hand pushed down on her shoulder that she almost jumped right out of her chair. Her glass of wine also almost went flying, except for a hand that grabbed it, steadying her arm and glass. She whimpered when she realized that the shadow that she had thought that she had imagined was real.

  “Easy,” came the low, rich voice that was not imagined after all. “You’ve already broken one wine glass because of me. I don’t want to make it two.”

  Ashlen’s hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t hold the glass anymore. He had to take it from her and set it down on the ground. The realization that he was there in her backyard was dizzying. She had spent so much time thinking that he would march through her door and declare his undying love for her, but a month had gone by and that hadn’t happened.

  “What are you doing here?” She finally managed to stammer.

  “I needed to see you,” was his reply. “We need to talk.”

  He moved his body so that he was standing directly in front of her. He looked dark and dangerous and handsome as normal. She suddenly hated having him flash what she couldn’t have in her face.

  “You already did a lot of talking a month ago back in Charlotte,” she murmured.

  All the hurt and pain that had brewed in Charlotte had started boiling within her again. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for him to slap another world of hurt in her face again.

  There was an odd expression that formed on Mercer’s face. Ashlen couldn’t quite tell what it was. All she wanted at this point was to sit in peace. Mercer suddenly appearing at her house had drudged up feelings that pained her deeply.

  “I did,” he agreed. “But I need you to hear me out for a moment.”

  “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to take what you have to say,” she told him, her voice soft, her body feeling weak.

  She had a feeling that he had come because he felt sorry for her. She was completely alone. Yeah, she did have friends in the area, but they couldn’t relate to what she had gone through. And they also had lives of their own. They couldn’t babysit her when she was feeling down. Because of this, she knew that his visit was purely out of pity. It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was struggling, especially after she had stopped her blog.

  “Then if you don’t like what I have to say, you can kick me out of your life forever. You’ll never be bothered by me again.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she replied, “Okay.”

  If this would finally bring some closure for her with Mercer, then she was willing to take the risk.

  He pulled one of her patio chairs around so that it sat right in front of her. Then, he sat down facing her, an odd expression on his face. His eyes pierced her gaze, giving off a haunted look.

  “Ashlen, look at me,” he told her firmly.

  Squeezing back tears, she said, “I don’t know if I can. Do you know how badly you hurt me?”

  “Baby, please just let me talk to you for a moment,” he said, his eyes pleading.

  W
hatever he needed to say, it seemed like it was important.

  Blinking back tears, she mumbled, “Yeah, sure.”

  “Look, I know I hurt you badly in Charlotte,” he started, his voice raw, almost choked. “I was an asshole. I know. I should have stayed and fought for you, but I gave up on any possibility with “us” when I saw you with Anderson. I was convinced that I wasn’t good enough for a woman like you.”

  “Mercer…” she stammered.

  “He was the better choice for you,” he told her. “He wasn’t some physically and emotionally scarred Marine. I’m a damned workaholic, and I’ve been told that I have emotional walls up. I’m not the type of man you deserve, Ash. I’ve been through too much shit. I’ve seen too much shit.”

  Her eyes went wide when he told her those things. Was that what he thought?

  “Oh, Mercer,” she whispered.

  “Let me finish,” he told her softly. “A man apparently much wiser than me convinced me that I shouldn’t allow my self-doubts to get in the way. He told me that all I needed to do was my best and try to make you the happiest damned woman on this earth, and I’d like to try that if you’d let me.”

  She sat there stunned. Were they having this conversation, or was she just having another wishful dream? It certainly felt real to her. This was what she had wanted for the last month, hadn’t she?

  There was a sudden flash of doubt that struck her. What if this turned ugly as it had with Paul? What if Mercer ran out on her again? She wasn’t sure if she could deal with that heartache again.

  Then, another thought struck her. The way he had been talking about Paul…

  He doesn’t know, she realized.

  She had to tell him even though she didn’t want to. Maybe that would allow him to see why all of this was so hard for her?

  “Paul cheated on me,” she said quietly.

  Apparently, Paul had neglected to mention that part of their relationship to Mercer when they had worked together on rescuing her.