“You lost your father when you were thirteen.”
He laughed hollowly, the sound echoing through his empty soul. “I lost my family when I was thirteen. The man I called my father? I lost him a long time before that.”
“When you were six.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t fishing for answers. It was a statement, and it hit like another bullet to the gut. “When you lost your mom. She left behind five kids all under the age of seven. Your dad had to take a second job to keep you all fed.”
Like hell. Jacob had to steal food out of the dumpster behind the supermarket to keep them all fed. None of that mattered now, so he didn’t correct the statement.
“At least that’s what the file says. I know you took care of them the best you could, son. No one faults you for that.”
“Tell that to my group counselor at County.” Four years he spent in that youth challenge program until he was old enough to join the military. Four years of no privacy, of sharing his feelings in a group setting, of them telling him it was his fault.
“Why are you so closed off? You know you can talk to me, right?”
Jacob couldn’t talk to anyone. Not about his past. Not about his present. Definitely not about his future. “Why is it so important I talk to you?”
“You need a shoulder. We all do from time to time.”
He looked at the man. “I don’t.”
“That’s what we need to talk about.” He grabbed the coffeepot and topped off both their mugs. “You’re still holding on to way too much of the shit that happened.”
“Which shit are you referring to, exactly? Burying my mom when I was six? Having to raise my little brothers and sisters because my dad was too drunk when he came home to do anything more than knock us around? When he came home at all. Or would that be the shit the universe took on me when I killed my partner?”
“The fact you have to ask that is a pretty clear indicator.” He didn’t raise his voice, which made his comment that much more powerful. “I can’t help you if you won’t let me.”
“I don’t need your help.”
Walsh’s eyes danced. “You keep telling yourself that, son.”
If he had anywhere else to go, Jacob would have already stormed out. But, as bad luck would have it, the Farm really was his home now. He stared at the counter and let that sink in.
“How’s my old room treating you?” Evan strode back into the kitchen, grabbing a banana and peeling it as he leaned against the counter. He grinned, his blue eyes shimmering in amusement. If Jacob liked men with pale eyes, dark hair, and who looked like underwear models, he would have made a play for him.
But he preferred them taller. And balder. And with glasses.
“Do you mind?” Walsh barked. “We’re having a private conversation.”
“Then maybe have it in private.” He took a bite off the banana. “Let me ask you a question, Burns. When you first joined TREX, did you think you’d be doing what you’re doing now?”
Jacob kept his gaze centered on the counter, yet still caught the way Walsh eyed him, waiting for the answer. With a deep sigh, he frowned. “No.”
“Me, either.” Evan took another bite.
“You’re not TREX.” Neither am I, not anymore. “Or are you one of the rogues doing freelance work?”
“I got sucked into a job six months ago and have wanted to quit ever since. With each request, I get that much more sucked in. I guess it runs in the family.”
“I used to serve with Chris McKoy. Any relation?”
“He’s my cousin. I don’t talk to that side of the family much for reasons I’d rather not get into.” He finished the banana and tossed the peel. “They all stay on that side of TREX. I’m, well…” He trailed off and looked to Walsh to finish.
“On our side.”
Jacob liked that answer. “Chris said he had a big family. He just never said how big.”
“I will tell you those McKoys are proficient in procreation.”
“You got any kids?”
“Not yet. Not sure if we’ll even go that route. Clint and I are having too much fun with it just being us.” He shrugged. “At least for now. You?”
“No,” he said with a quick shake of his head. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t tell him he’d had little brothers and sisters who’d relied on him to take care of them. He didn’t share that he’d longed for a large family, a house full of chaos, ever since losing his.
Evan widened his eyes. “Good talk.” He placed his back to Jacob.
Walsh’s phone rang, drawing all their attention as he answered. The way his expression fell had Jacob straightening. “What is it?”
“You need to hear this.” He put it on speaker and set the phone between them. “Go ahead, Maria.”
“Martin and I are with the client. Apparently he was assaulted during a break-in last night.”
“How’s that our problem?” Jacob growled.
Walsh glared at him, and Jacob thinned his lips to stop himself from saying anything else. He crossed his arms and listened, not happy being forced to listen to Maria ramble on about some ridiculous break-in she and Martin probably had a hand in. He didn’t trust either one.
“The guy spent the night in the hospital, loser. A little sympathy, please.”
He snarled at the phone and tightened his arms in front of him, refusing to acknowledge the pang of guilt pecking at his chest like an angry bird.
Maria cleared her throat. “He was leaving the office last night when he noticed movement in his server room.”
“Server rooms are typically housed in the basement,” Jacob pointed out. “It’s cooler there and you need a subfloor for all the wires and stuff.”
“The stuff,” a familiar voice sounded over the line, “was the reason why I have the server room next to my office.”
No. Hell no. Jacob stiffened and darted a nervous glance at Walsh, who frowned in return. Of course he didn’t register the voice. No one else knew that voice, not like Jacob.
Why are you being such a bully?
The man’s powerful gaze was forever burned into Jacob’s conscience after that night. He’d never looked away as he challenged Sergio’s men. And, damn it, it was his unyielding bravado—false or not—that had made Jacob risk his own life to save Lee’s.
He cleared his throat and forced the memory away. He tried not to growl as he asked, “What did you have in that server room so important that would warrant a break-in?”
Silence answered him.
“Hello?”
Maria’s voice answered, and Jacob snarled. “What did you just say?”
“I just asked him what he had in his server room, a question you should have already asked him.”
“I did,” she defended, her usually casual demeanor gone. “But when I asked him the same question, he didn’t lose all his color and set off whatever these little monitors are. Whatever you said has him really upset. You should hear it in here. It sounds like one of Kyle’s video games.”
It wasn’t what he’d said but rather who’d said it. Just as B had forever been etched into his memory, Lee had been a permanent resident in A’s mind since the night of the attack.
They’d shared something that night. Good, bad, or indifferent, they’d shared something. It wasn’t just the kiss, although that still affected Jacob when he recalled the taste of that man’s lips. No, they’d shared a connection far greater than physical attraction.
“What intel have you gathered?” Jacob demanded, unwilling to share his revelation with anyone, especially Maria. If she was ex-TREX, she knew protocol. As much as he didn’t want to line up with the likes of this woman, they were on the same side. “Did you get a description of the guy?”
As anticipated, she responded as any TREX agent would. Gone were any personal comments, any snide remarks. “Absolutely. In fact, Mr. Lamont was very detailed in his description.” She cleared her throat. “He said his assailant was a man with shoulder-length, reddish-brown hair and ha
zel eyes. About five-nine, with massive muscles and a permanent frown on his otherwise handsome face. His exact words. I wrote them down.”
Walsh looked at Jacob, as did Evan. Jacob stared them both down.
He shrugged his shoulders. “What? I’m not the only guy in the world who looks like that.”
“Here’s the kicker,” Maria said through the speaker and lowered her voice. “He claims the man assaulted his senses. Not him. His senses. I wrote that down, too.”
Shit. Jacob snapped his shocked gaze to Walsh, this time ignoring Evan.
“That,” Maria stated through the line, “is something I’m sure is unique to you and your specific tastes. Where were you last night?”
“This is bullshit,” Jacob bit off and threw his hands down to his sides. He’d launch the goddamn phone if Maria so much as hinted at another accusation like that.
“Stay with him until he’s released, then bring him to the Farm,” Walsh ordered. “Let’s continue this in person. We’ll simply have him meet Burns and put this matter to rest.” He ended the call and swung around to face at Jacob. “Anything you want to tell me?”
“Are you serious?” He wanted to let loose, to tell them all to go to hell and walk away. How could Walsh think he had anything to do with this? His time with Sergio had really done a number on his credibility.
“Just answer the question, son.”
He tensed, annoyed Walsh kept calling him that. It made him feel like part of the family, like he’d finally found a home again. But he knew better. As soon as they needed someone to take the fall for something, he’d be out.
Like now.
“I didn’t do it.”
“I never said you did,” Walsh stated calmly. He was always calm, which Jacob found soothing, even now. God knew how much he needed to find something to keep him from blowing. “Do you know Lee Lamont?”
Jacob looked at him.
“I have to ask, son.”
“Of course you do.” He turned to leave, needing air and to distance himself from the situation. Even though he had nothing to do with last night’s attack, he’d somehow end up getting blamed for it.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been blamed for something he had no control over.
8
“This isn’t the police station,” Lee stated as the two TREX agents pulled onto the grounds of an enormous ranch. “Where are we?”
The woman spoke. “If you wanted to go to the police station you would have asked for a police escort.”
That wasn’t an answer, so he asked again. “Where are we?”
“The foothills of the Cascades,” the male of the pair stated.
“A little town called Snoqualmie. That’s east of the city.”
He knew that much. He lived in Seattle and did know how to use Google maps. He didn’t need a map to know the outlying cities. Giving up on getting a straight answer, he scrolled through his text messages as the agents escorted him to a large ranch house.
“This is your stop.”
“Aren’t you going in with me?”
The female turned in the front seat and looked at him with those piercing jade eyes he didn’t know whether to trust or not. “We are simply retrieval.”
“But what about the job I hired TREX to do?”
“You don’t hire TREX, handsome. TREX chooses you. The man you want to see is inside.” Her eyes twinkled, and Lee leaned more toward the not-trusting-her side.
He stepped out and wiped the sweat from his hands onto his jeans. He’d spent a year and a fortune searching for the prototype before turning the PI onto TREX. Now here he was, about to hand everything over to an expert retrieval agency. If anyone could find it, it’d be TREX.
Lee walked up the stairs, across the large uncovered deck, and knocked on the door. As he waited for someone to answer, he glanced around. Odd place for a meeting with some sort of covert agency. Maybe it was all part of their cover.
The door finally swung open. A man as tall as Lee, with a bushy gray mustache and matching hair, stood there. He held out his hand. “Mr. Lamont?”
Lee took his hand and shook firmly. “Yes.”
“I’m Walsh.”
“Mr. Walsh, very good to meet you.”
“Just Walsh,” he corrected and motioned for Lee to enter. “I understand you had a breach in security?”
“Yes.” He’d been robbed of any sense of security a year ago. Because of that night Lee now slept with a nightlight and several brass locks on his door. He couldn’t take a shower without locking the bathroom door. So, yes, he definitely had a breach in security.
“Let’s have a seat in my office. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I just want to find the man who did this.” This, being the fact Lee could no longer serve as a sub without fearing his Dom—and not in a good way. This, being the anxiety of dominating and failing to protect his sub. This, that he had no sense of the man he used to be.
“You must have gotten a pretty good look at him.” He paused outside a door and eyed him skeptically. “You were damn specific in your description.”
He knew that would come back to bite him in the ass. He’d panicked when the TREX agents asked him for a description back at the hospital and gave them the only description that came to mind—the one that would forever be burned into his memories.
He had no idea how to explain why he’d given a description of A to the two who’d dropped him here when he’d given a completely different description to the cops. That, he was sure, would also come back to bite him in the ass.
Walsh opened the door and led them into a room with a table and several chairs. It didn’t look like an office. No desk. Not even a phone.
“That’s a nasty scar you have,” he pointed out as they both took a seat.
Lee traced the scar with the tip of his finger as his heart pinched. He hardened his jaw and gave Walsh a curt nod. “That it is.”
“How’d you get it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’s personal.”
“The scar? Or how you got it?”
Lee looked at him. “Both.”
“Understood.” Walsh pulled a small notepad from his pocket and clicked the pen. “How about we focus on the break-in?”
“Yes, that would be good.”
“First, did you go to the police?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Just as Lee had predicted, they’d found nothing, not even a jiggered lock. Whoever broke into his server room knew what they were doing—all the way down to knocking him out so he’d be too dazed to identify them in a line-up. “They didn’t find anything. Even if they did, they wouldn’t do anything. I need someone willing to do what they won’t.”
Walsh sat back and studied Lee for several seconds. Not once did Lee look away from the man’s penetrating gaze. “We’re not a vigilante group, Mr. Lamont. If that’s what you’re looking for, I’m afraid we can’t help you.”
Shit. Shit. He had to turn his desperation down a notch or ten. He couldn’t screw this up. “I didn’t mean to give that impression. I’m just eager to catch whoever did this.”
“Did he take anything?”
“Yes.” Lee produced a list of items taken that fateful day one year ago. His briefcase last night contained nothing more than a few invoices and forgettable paperwork. Nothing close to what he’d originally lost.
He wanted his original prototype. It was a first generation counter-virus program. The first of its kind. Although Inferno was now out for free, the source code remained on lockdown. The original source code was just as dangerous if someone really wanted to do some damage.
And, deep down, he wanted someone to pay for the scars he now had, both visible and invisible. After he’d recovered from the attack, Lee signed up for self-defense classes and had been training ever since, just in case anyone ever cornered him in another alley.
“Do you have insurance on these items?”
&
nbsp; “No.”
Walsh swung his gaze from the paper to Lee. “Why is that? It seems something this valuable would be insured.”
“It was a prototype. Literally finished that day. I never had time to insure it before it was stolen. Look, I don’t care about anything on that list but my prototype. Can you help me or not?”
A door closed behind him. Lee turned to see who walked in.
And froze, panting in disbelief. His heart suddenly raced as he recalled the last time he saw those eyes. That scowl. Holy shit. It was him. It was A.
Lee jumped out of his chair and stumbled back, tripping over chairs. The man who still haunted his dreams stared back with those unyielding hazel eyes, burning into his confidence until it was nothing but a pile of ashes. His heart seized and refused to beat until the room tilted. Only then did it painfully kick-start once again.
“You,” Lee whimpered when he finally found his voice. “It’s really you.”
“Let me explain.” When he inched into the room, Lee instinctively retreated, unable to process the fact the man he’d never forgotten now stood less than ten feet from him. “Mr. Lamont. Lee.” He took another step, his voice soft, warm. Inviting. “Please.”
He stilled, bewildered. “You know my name?”
“I do.” Slowly, he took another step, his hands up in surrender. “My name is Jacob Burns.”
His name fit him. The shoulder-length burnt copper hair. The square jaw lightly dusted with whiskers. He looked like a Jacob Burns. “Why are you here?”
“You’ve been looking for me, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” He had no idea why that word instinctively fell from his lips. He’d been searching for his prototype. Jacob hadn’t even been there, despite Lee’s imagination that he’d seen him a split-second before passing out.
“Why?”
At that moment, Lee couldn’t do anything but remind himself how to breathe. Now that they stood face-to-face again after all this time, he expected the hatred that had kept him company for this past year to bubble over and send him into a frenzy. Instead he felt numb, like this wasn’t real, that he’d blink and this would all disappear.
Jacob Page 7
