Explosive (The Black Opals)

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Explosive (The Black Opals) Page 18

by St. Claire, Tori


  Brice shrugged. “He’s in security. I imagine he knows what he’s doing.”

  She took another bite, and her frown deepened. “You know, you could act a little more concerned.”

  With a soft chuckle, Brice leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You do a good enough job for both of us. One of us has to remain level-headed, sweetheart.”

  Alyssa sighed. Although his response was less than what she’d expected, he had a point. His easy-going attitude about nearly everything was one of the things she treasured most. He possessed an innate ability to remain calm, which rubbed off on her most of the time and helped to keep her grounded.

  “Did Jayce suggest anything?”

  She shook her head and finished off her meager snack. “He turned on the light and they ran off.”

  “But he stayed the night.”

  Alyssa nodded as she reached for a coffee mug.

  “With you.”

  She bristled, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. Without comment, she filled her cup and sipped the steamy brew.

  “Without me.”

  Was that disappointment that echoed in his voice? Had she taken his prodding the wrong way? As another fist thumped into her gut, she turned to gauge his expression. The usual jovial brightness in his eyes had dimmed, but he face gave no concrete hint as to what he might be feeling. She arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d mind. You’ve been pushing me to do so.”

  To her surprise, he shook his head and let out a laugh. “Mind? Hardly. Just making sure I’m not misunderstanding. You spent the night alone with Jayce.”

  “Yeah. No big deal.” If she said it aloud often enough, she might even believe it. She reached for another strip of bacon and gnawed it in half. “I’m running over to the office for a little bit.” Finishing off the remaining half, she turned for the doorway.

  “The office? I don’t want you there right now.”

  She frowned at him. When his grim expression didn’t soften, she rolled her eyes. “Give me some credit. I’m not staying there. I’m getting some files and coming back here. I have to work today.”

  “Because you have a deadline, or because you’re trying to escape?”

  Irritation prickled down her spine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Again, he shrugged. “When’s the last time you worked on a Sunday?”

  Alyssa’s defenses stood up screaming. She turned to face him more fully and lifted her chin. “I work on Sundays. It’s tax season.”

  “When?” He braced on hip on the counter and regarded her steadily.

  She did. She knew she had, at least once. Certainly during tax season. But when that occasion had been, eluded her. She opened her mouth to object in some way, only to have whatever she might have concocted drowned out by Brice’s too-accurate observations.

  “You’ve never let him go, Alyssa. He’s right here in your hands now, and you’re intent on pushing him away. For God’s sake, when’s the last time you spent the night with someone other than me?”

  Unwilling to face the truths he was throwing in her face, she narrowed her gaze and deliberately twisted his insinuations. “Are you jealous?”

  Brice’s bark of laughter bounced off the cabinets. “Jealous? Fuck, Alyssa, I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and kick me to the curb. To go after what—who—you’ve always wanted. It isn’t me. Never has been me. And I’ve always been cool with that. Don’t create an argument where there isn’t one, just so you can control the outcome.”

  She blinked. “Control the outcome? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “Hell yes, it is. You’re too afraid to have faith in Jayce, to grab what you’ve got and give it a chance.” His voice softened, compassion creeping into his ice blue gaze. “Sweetheart, I know you. You’ve got damned good reasons. But look at what’s around you. You crossed a bridge last night, and there’s no way back to this side.”

  Alyssa’s throat tightened. Maybe she had crossed some bridge. Maybe she couldn’t retreat to what she’d known was safe and dependable a handful of days ago. But the other side was barred to her as well. As she’d suspected, Jayce had tried to drag her into explanations, and she’d shut him down. She’d insured distance remained between them, and Jayce’s cold departure this morning made it evident her tactic worked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured quietly. “It won’t happen again.” She cleared her throat, choked back the conflicting emotions. “Don’t judge me. I’m going to the office. I have to get my files.”

  “Alyssa.” Brice sighed. “I’m not judging you. No one is. Honey, I understand. But for God’s sake, if I can, don’t you think he will? He loved you.”

  She shook her head violently. Jayce might understand, but she couldn’t find the explanation. Couldn’t choke those words out of her throat to save her life. She’d shoved those memories so far down she couldn’t stomach the thought of reliving them. Of feeling Michael’s hands tearing her clothes, the other boys, the laughter, the complete helplessness…

  “Stop,” she whispered. Her stomach heaved, threatening to send its meager contents all over her feet. She swallowed down the bitter taste of bile and gave one last firm shake of her head. “I’m leaving.”

  As his heavy sigh resonated through the kitchen, Alyssa fled the house. He was pushing her where she couldn’t go. And yet, she couldn’t ignore what he’d said.

  For God’s sake, if I can, don’t you think he will? He loved you.

  Her heart kicked wildly as she let herself into her car and backed out of the drive. Jayce didn’t love her now—how could he when she’d done everything she could to shut him out? But she owed him an explanation. The pain that flickered in his eyes when he mentioned their past. The shadows that haunted his expression as he mentioned the child they’d lost.

  She owed Jayce the truth. It was simply a matter of figuring out how to tell him. A part of her wanted to ask Brice to explain. But even as deeply as Brice knew her, as much as he knew about that terrible night, Jayce deserved more than to hear it all second-hand.

  Maybe she could write it down. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but at least Jayce would know and she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye as she recounted what they’d done to her. If she had to drag the memories forward, at least she could do so in private.

  She simply wasn’t strong enough for anything else. And that realization shamed her. She ought to be. She’d built a successful career. Done well for herself financially. Fear wasn’t part of her new normal. And yet, confiding in Jayce was a far worse terror than standing face-to-face with Michael again.

  Turning into her office parking lot, she gritted her teeth in resolution. She didn’t really have a choice. And writing words gave her more time to deal with the subject than a verbal conversation. It was the only way.

  Decided, she let herself out of the car and wandered to the front door. As she inserted her key, the door yielded and swung inward. Alyssa’s hand froze. She glanced around the building, seeing no cars on the road, no vehicles in the parking lot. Beyond the open door, the office was dark; no sound filtered out, save for the low whir of the refrigerator in the back room and the subtle hum of computer equipment.

  She’d left the other day distracted and hurried. Had she forgotten to lock the door? Surely not. But it wasn’t entirely impossible. Jayce had her so out of sorts that afternoon she could have forgotten her own name.

  Cautiously, she pushed the door open far enough she could insert her hand and flip the light. When it came on and nothing happened after another twenty or thirty seconds of standing on the stoop, Alyssa used the toe of her shoe to nudge the door the rest of the way open.

  Their office spanned in front of her. Papers scattered from her doorway across the reception area to Brice’s closed door. Three chairs in the small lobby lay sideways on the ground. The phone from the receptionist’s desk sat against Brice’s door, its handset jarred from the receiver that lay a foot away.
>
  Her gaze jumped to her open office door as panic tightened her lungs. She could just make out the lamp she kept on her desk, smashed now on the floor.

  Stifling a scream, she raced for the safety of her car and locked herself inside. With shaking hands, she dug through her purse until she found her cell phone. In an instant she dialed Brice.

  “Hey, you,” he answered affectionately, all traces of their argument now missing.

  “Brice! Someone broke in again. Everything’s broken.” Her words came out in a rush. “They’ve been here, Brice. They’ve been here. Oh, God, someone’s after me. I shouldn’t have argued with Bryer.”

  “Whoa, slow down. I can hardly understand you.” All sense of warmth fled from his voice, replaced by the hard edge of concern. “What happened?”

  “The office.” She took a breath, counted to three, then let it out. “They broke in again. It’s a disaster.” Fear crept forward, edging her voice into a high pitch once again. “It’s me. They want those files on Parker. What do I do? They won’t stop unless I cooperate.”

  “Hey!”

  Sharp and concise Brice’s brittle bark broke through her rising panic. Alyssa took another deep breath and closed her eyes as she wrestled with the frantic drum of her heart. She could do this. She hadn’t been hurt. No one was holding her hostage. She would not become hysterical.

  “Come home. I’m dialing the police on the house phone now. Come straight home, get away from there.”

  Trace bits of logic filtered through her fear. If she left, someone could think she’d made something up. Or worse, they could accuse her of having something to do with the situation. She absently shook her head. “I was here first. The cops would want me to stay. I’m a witness. Just talk to me until they get here.”

  For the first time Alyssa could ever recall, Brice’s unwavering calm failed. His voice hardened, filled with an underlying sense of urgency. And he uttered the one inescapable truth she did her damnedest every day to forget.

  “Alyssa. You know who we work for. You know what they’re capable of. I don’t care what the cops would want you to do. Get the fuck home where I know you’re safe. The detectives can come here. Drive, now.”

  She dropped the phone, slammed her car into reverse, and gunned the gas.

  T w e n t y – t h r e e

  At eighteen, it had taken a long time for Jayce to come to terms with the fact Jordan liked boys, and a near act of God to accept that boys liked her in return. At thirty, nothing had changed. As he sat at her kitchen table, it was all he could do to choke down the lunch she’d brought home while Kane Anderson’s gaze ate her up like candy.

  The open interest that reflected in Jordan’s expression only made things worse. And Jayce had no intention of letting his baby sister get mixed up with a Black Opal. Not that Kane was inherently a bad guy—as far as Jayce was concerned, he was as stand-up as a guy could get. But he was an Opal. And that meant secrets, deception, danger, and quite possibly death. All of which Jordan was better off without.

  Time to make a quick exit.

  Jayce glanced at his watch. “It’s a quarter after twelve, Kane. We better get you checked into your hotel and get a move on with this security system.”

  Jordan blinked at him. “Hotel? You’re hardly here. Kane can stay here and save the expense.”

  Interest sparked in Kane’s green eyes. “Saving money’s good.”

  Like hell that was going to happen. And Kane made more than enough money that hotel expenses were like a trip to McDonald’s. Shoving his chair away from the table, Jayce shook his head. “I need my room. I’ll be here tonight.” He gathered his plate to take it to the sink. “Remember, we’re seeing a movie. Did you pick out what you wanted to watch?”

  His sister made a sound that to anyone else would seem like a sigh. But he caught the harassed tone beneath her harsh exhale. He avoided looking at her and rinsed off his plate.

  “I’ll check while you’re both gone.”

  As Jayce turned, he found Kane coolly regarding him. No doubt he’d picked up on Jayce’s terse attitude and hurry to separate the pair. What Jordan wanted to do on her own time was her choice, but he’d be damned if he let her get mixed up with a covert secret agent. Not on his watch, damn it.

  He jerked his head toward the door. “You ready, man?”

  “Yeah,” Kane mumbled. He unfolded his six-foot-twoish frame from the chair and reached for his plate.

  Jordan’s hand covered his. “I’ll get that. It was nice meeting you, Kane. Come back before you leave town.”

  Jayce groaned inwardly.

  Kane gave her a slow, lazy smile. “Might do that.” He flashed her a wink. “Depends on how much jumping Jayce has me doing.” His smile morphed into a grin as he moved to follow Jayce to the entryway.

  Opening the front door, Jayce called over his shoulder, “Jordan text me about that movie when you pick one.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled.

  Determined not to let her annoyance bug him, Jayce headed for his truck. She might be pissed now, but she’d get over it. And he certainly didn’t intend to lose sleep if Jordan was in a tizzy. Kane was an Opal. Opals didn’t do serious. Jordan deserved better than a one-night stand.

  He eased behind the steering wheel and started the pickup as Kane let himself into the passenger’s side. He reclined in his seat then turned his head to Jayce. “Don’t you think she’s a little old for the big brother routine?”

  Jayce shot him a scowl. “Clearly you don’t have sisters.”

  “Nope.” He tossed one ankle over a knee. “Just a piece of shit little brother with a reserved room at the pen.” Facing the windshield again, he closed his eyes. “So what gives? I’m not good enough for her?”

  Tightening his hands on the wheel, Jayce beat down rising annoyance and took care to maintain a level tone. “You’re an Opal. I know what you do for a living.”

  Kane chuckled. “Sounds a bit like the pot and the kettle argument.”

  “Look,” a hard edge crept into Jayce’s voice. “Jordan’s been through…shit before. She doesn’t need someone like you or me stumbling through her bed and disappearing with the next assignment from Clarke.”

  “Had her heart broken, huh?” Sarcasm laced Kane’s words. He abruptly sat up. “She’s a grown woman, Honeycutt. We’ve all been through shit.”

  Anger flashed through Jayce. Kane had no idea what Jordan had suffered, and he had no right to trivialize. Jayce would cut any man down who dared to consider hurting her again. Even unintentionally. He hit the brakes, jamming the truck to a stop in the middle of the residential street. Luckily no one followed behind.

  He swiveled in his seat and glared at Kane. “Look, I’m gonna say this once, and I hope to hell you listen, ’cause I like you. Keep your fucking hands off my sister, or I’ll hand you your career in a body-bag.”

  “Whoa.” Kane held up his hands, all traces of amusement vanishing from his face. “Jesus, Honeycutt, get a grip. I got the hint back there. Loud and clear. Let’s not go overboard.”

  A moment of tense silence passed between them. Kane held Jayce’s gaze, unblinking. Then Jayce backed down with a slow nod. Letting the subject of Jordan go, he eased onto the gas and resumed his trek across town. He threw a peace offering. “You can have the couch, if you want to stay with Jordan and me.”

  “Nah.” Slouching down in his seat once again, Kane made himself comfortable. “I’ll grab a room later. Head over to your friend’s. Let’s get this thing knocked out. Did you get a schematic for me?”

  “Um…no.” Truth to tell, Jayce had completely forgotten. “I got…sidetracked.”

  “Sidetracked, huh?” Another chuckle wafted from the passenger’s seat. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this than what you told me on the drive from the airport to your sister’s?”

  Jayce sighed. He’d explained to Kane only the basics, leaving out the vast majority of his involvement with Alyssa. The man was here as a fav
or, and his training would never let him ask Jayce directly. Just as Jayce would never ask Kane what assignment he was working on in Seattle. But Jayce had just threatened the same man who was doing a favor, and if Jayce continued with the cold attitude, he’d quickly lose Kane’s willingness to help. As much as he didn’t want to, it was time to cross a few boundaries of professionalism and give his fellow Opal some personal information.

  He offered the only summary he knew that would say everything. “I was going to marry her.”

  “Aw, hell,” Kane groaned. He cocked an eyebrow at Jayce, bemusement quirking one corner of his mouth. “If you threaten me over her, we’re going to have serious issues.”

  Jayce couldn’t help it—he laughed. “Don’t worry, she’s set me straight. She’s living with my former best friend.”

  “Ouch.”

  “No shit.”

  Turning the corner, Jayce gave a sad shake of his head. “It is what it is. Just…make sure she’s safe, Kane.”

  “I hear you, Sandman.” More quietly, he added, “Loud and clear.”

  Silence lapsed between them. Jayce didn’t need to say more; they shared the same bonds, and every Opal knew the feeling of losing someone. Be it through bullets, betrayal, simple duty to the job, or the necessity of keeping their lives separated from normal civilian involvements, there was always someone left behind. And in those few moments of quiet brotherhood, Jayce realized he wasn’t just riding with a fellow operative, but a friend.

  Maybe the only true friend he could claim, presently.

  He turned onto Alyssa’s street and squinted at her house. An unadorned white sedan sat in her driveway. A spotlight was mounted on the driver’s side near the window, and as he drove closer, he identified the strictly-numeric license plate as Boulder P.D. He pulled in beside it. What the hell had happened now?

  “Is that an unmarked patrol car?” Kane asked, leaning forward to look around Jayce.

 

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