“That one I can’t figure. Overalls over layers of girly clothing, and a trophy wig. I can’t wrap my head around it.” She snorted. “Wonder if we’ll ever really know?”
“She dressed up as Mom. Not sure about the blonde aspect of the wig, but while Worthson got ready to call the cops, I did a quick sweep of the house. Mom’s room was a shrine, and her closet was filled with shape-obscuring clothing like overalls. Muumuus, shapeless sweatshirts, and pants. My guess is Mom not being all there in the head showed in her wardrobe selections. Hiding her femininity, but underneath was where she allowed herself to be vulnerable.” The tapping increased in speed, evolving into a pattern of sounds Alace thought sounded familiar. “The holding pens were a makeshift replica cell from the dungeon. The first ones were without a viewport, but she eventually figured out how to build an access window she could cut off in an instant by shifting the barrel over the top. Can you imagine being the person inside, watching as this crazy lady shut down your access to light and air?” He flattened his palm against the table, staring down. “I’m leaving tonight to go back to that active clearing. I just have to make sure no one’s left behind. The fact she visited it between when I saw it and when you did a sat sweep is concerning.”
“Good call.” Alace shoved her chair back from the table. “And good timing. I’ve got a new com we can test.”
“Yeah? Already? Cool.” From the sound of things behind her, Owen had left the table too, and was following her. “New tech acquisitions are fun times. Whatdja get?”
“ESA has a new development, and I got my hands on one of the newest prototypes. It uses a MEO base, which means there’s a longer coverage, and it can skip to a different bird when one hits the horizon. Lightweight, too.” She paused on the stairs and looked back to see Eric’s smile beaming her way. “We’re gonna talk shop, but you’re invited.”
“Nice of you to invite me up to my own bedroom.” The sideways quirk of his lips told her he wasn’t truly annoyed, and she rolled her eyes in response. “I’ll be up in a minute, but what’s ESA and MEO?”
Owen offered up the meaning behind the acronyms, his knowledge impressing her as he no doubt intended. “ESA is European Space Agency, and MEO means a satellite in medium earth orbit, which offers more coverage than one closer to earth but still keeps transmission time fast.” Owen hooked a thumb over his shoulder to where Alace waited on the stairs. “The fact your woman has connections to acquire this level of technology like that”—he snapped his fingers—“is impressive, and just adds to her point tally.” He laughed, and Eric joined him. “She’s got the best damn toys.”
“There can only be one resident geek.” She turned and continued up the rest of the stairs. A couple of steps later she realized she’d given him her back without question or thought, and the understanding of how much she instinctively trusted him only drew the tiniest shiver from her. “I’ve fully occupied that position. All new applications will be declined.”
“Oh, man. I missed out.” Owen’s soft chuckle mapped his distance behind her, which despite his longer legs wasn’t decreasing. Whether he was keeping away out of fear or respect, she didn’t care. She’d take it.
“Yes, you did. But, if you’re a good boy, I might be convinced to continue to share my toys.” Their teasing wasn’t sexual in nature, not at all, and she knew Eric understood when he joined in.
“Do good boys get dessert?” She glanced over her shoulder to see him uncovering the container of cookies he’d baked earlier while she worked. His own way of keeping busy.
Eric had stories about sitting on a stool next to his mother and stealing bites of dough as they mixed the batter. Alace found her palm was again cradling the baby bump she never quite lost awareness of, and she wondered if his mother would take their child to her heart. A grandmother. Something to discuss with Eric and find out when he’d be comfortable telling the people important in his life. She didn’t have anyone. That knowledge didn’t dig as deeply as it would have even a couple of months ago, the raw emotion of losing Regg slowly covering with new friendships. Her gaze landed on Owen, and she saw his attention on the placement of her hand. While they hadn’t completely clarified things on the call yesterday, he’d made his knowledge clear. If anything had been left to question, her actions now had confirmed it.
“Yes, good boys get dessert. Bring a couple up with you when you come.” Eric lifted his gaze, and she felt the weight and heat of his focus. It affected her the way it always did, and she shivered. “Don’t take too long. I’m snackish.”
“Feed my babies.” That calm assertion did things to her insides, and she blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears. “Be there in a minute, beloved.”
“Don’t make the pregnant lady cry.” With that firm order thrown into the air between them, she turned and made her way into their bedroom.
“Everything okay with the pregnancy?” Owen’s low question cut the silence as she settled into her chair. Alace glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “But you’re on restrictions, right?” Slowly, she nodded again. “And that kills you a little.” He paused, studying her. “No, that kills you a lot. I get it. I had to sit out a couple of missions because of injuries, and the worst of it wasn’t doing the research, studying the data and providing analysis, because then I was at least pulling my weight.” He huffed out a laugh that didn’t seem to hold any humor at all. “Worst was sitting in a chair and watching the screens as my team stepped into hell without me at their backs. Listening to the calls on the com. Listening to the silence between transmissions.” His mouth twisted and he shrugged, one shoulder lifting and falling with a sigh. “What I mean is I get it. I understand. This is a change, and an unwelcome one, I’m sure. By the time you get used to it, you’ll be ready to jump back into the field, no doubt.”
She stared at him and his smile faltered and fell away.
“You’re not going back into the field.” Not a question, but the tentative statement wasn’t too far removed from disbelief. “Ever.” She shook her head and he looked away, a low curse falling from his lips. “So many layers to all that is Alace Sweets Ward.”
“You and me.” Her words brought his attention back to her, and she sat quietly, letting him look his fill, leaving her expression open for easy interpretation, knowing he’d understand how much that meant. “I want to partner with you. Going forwards. We can find the tech that suits us both, and figure out what that means, what it looks like. Right now I’ve got two other hunters, but I’m going to put them to pasture for a while. I want to get comfortable with you and give you the opportunity to build the same level of confidence. What we do, Owen.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make us models of conformity, that’s for sure. But to be the support you need, I’ve got to be in sync with you. We’ll be a team.”
“This mission was extreme.” Feet apart, hands clasped behind his back, Owen stood at parade rest in the middle of her bedroom, and Alace took a breath and allowed herself to appreciate the surrealness of the moment. “Things moved so fast, but having you in my ear, knowing you were just a whisper away, it meant more than you probably understood. Most of my targets haven’t been as up close.” Lips a thin slash across his face, he shook his head. “Not to say I can’t or won’t do wet work, God knows I’ve done enough in my day. But it’s not my specialty.”
“Are you turning me down, Marcus?” Alace tried to create distance by using his surname, but his quick grin, so at odds with his last statement, gave her hope that she’d read him wrong.
“Oh, hell no, Sweets.” She stuffed down her humor at his attempt to turn the tables on her and paid attention, not just to his words, but his posture, expression, the vibe rolling off him—all of which told her he wasn’t lying, that he hadn’t been closing the door on this fledgling partnership. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He unlocked his knees and brought a hand around to scrub across his jaw, the aw-shucks aspect of his putting-a-mark-at-ease persona in full effect. Asshole. “What I�
�m saying is it meant a lot to me, you being willing to be with me the way you were during my time in that monster house. It was creepy as shit listening to the crazy lady talking to herself. Knowing you’d move heaven and hell to get me out if things went south, and that you’d know immediately, not waiting for the next satellite overview pass—it gave me confidence. Not in my abilities, because hell yeah, I always had that shit on lock, trust. But in the survivability of the mission. Not always a given in the past, and when I worked off grid—” He shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor between them. The tension in his shoulders spoke volumes about the scenes he must have running through his head. “Let’s just say I appreciated you more than you’ll know.”
“What do you know about my former handler. Partner?” Time to fess up to what had gone sideways, even if she’d never be ready to talk about Regg’s death.
Owen glanced around and grimaced at the stool near her chair, shaking his head. He took a knee where he’d stood and settled back, crouching comfortably over his heel. Once relaxed, he drilled her with a solid gaze. “Not much. Just what you’ve shared about them spying on you without vetting the idea first.”
“When I started my path, I didn’t know a lot. I’d had some advice from a friend of my mother’s, who put me on the idea of an alternate identity. Regg was my paper guy to start.” Just talking about the beginning brought back so many different emotions, not many of them good. “Then, on like my third gig, I ran into trouble. I sorted it out but realized I might need more than an identity going forwards. I’d developed what felt like a long-distance friendship with Regg, so I walked my idea past him and he took it and ran with it. Before long, it seemed like he could produce anything I needed. We set up drop locations, and things progressed.”
Eric appeared in the door to the bedroom and paused just long enough to note where Owen was crouched. He shook his head and approached her, snagging the stool with one foot to move it to the side before sitting down. One long arm reached out and hooked her ankles with his fingers, lifting her feet to his lap.
“I don’t know exactly when things changed for him, but he started hiding things. Mostly motives for pushing a certain gig my way, which all turned out to be financial in the end. On his end. He used his association with me to further a money laundering career, blackmailing his way into the bed of a powerful man’s daughter. And me?” She scoffed slowly. “It’s not so simple to explain what he was to me. I thought we were friends. Thought he had my back, no matter what. I was young and naïve, and so very lost in what had happened to me, and what I was doing. I’m still that, honestly. I spent so long under his thumb, believing his statements like they were gospel so I didn’t have to create connections. Even in a long-running gig, I’d only carve out whatever part of me was needed to produce the person needed for the gig, and no more. None of it was real. I’m stunted.”
Eric’s hold on her feet tightened, and he leaned closer, whispering, “Beloved.”
“I am, and you know it. I’m learning.” She cupped his jaw with her hand, thumb ghosting across his bottom lip, tugging it one way then the other. “I never had friends, never had anything until you latched on to me and wouldn’t let go.” She glanced at Owen. He was watching them, a complex array of emotions racing across his expression. “That’s a story for another day. I’m telling you about my only other partnership for these gigs.” He nodded while Eric’s head moved in her hand. Alace bent forward at the waist, surprised at the extra pressure from the—that’s the baby. Blinking back tears for the second time in a short while, she touched her forehead to Eric’s.
“Regg used me. Long and short of it, he used me to fund his lifestyle, which was lavish. I’d be holed up in a no-tell motel for months on end and he had a three-story McMansion to roam around in. Not that I knew about any of that. Part of the using was the lies. The most he’d brought me into his life was when he claimed to have met his soul mate.” Eric’s fingers were firm bands surrounding her ankles, holding her steady. She straightened in her chair, fingers falling from his face back to her lap, where they twisted with her other hand. “It was about that point he started protecting his investment, bugging all the items he’d provide me for any given gig. Gave him a way to keep tabs on me. Even when I thought I was in private, I wasn’t. My chosen gigs have always been a lot like yours in terms of motivation. I want to even the scales for people who’ve been fucked over by the legal system, or by someone who believes themselves untouchable. What we just did isn’t my typical. You know that already by the couple of gigs I fed you before this one.” Owen nodded, but she appreciated his silence. Letting her get this all out in one go would make things easier for everyone. “I found out Regg had manipulated information, doctoring data so he could steer me towards gigs that had dollar signs attached to them. I’ve never been about the money. Half of anything I earn still goes to charities and foundations to help girls like I used to be. That single thing, finding out how he’d used me, felt like such a violation.”
She swallowed hard, blinking back another infuriating round of tears. “Dammit, I’m not a weeper normally. That shit’s gonna piss me off for sure. It needs to knock it off.” That earned her a pair of masculine chuckles, one she loved and the other she was becoming fond of.
“I gave him every chance to back away. But he’d groomed other hunters, groomed and discarded when they didn’t produce like I did. And by discarded, I mean ditched, as in rolled them into one. His last living hunter got sicced on me. I didn’t know it. Didn’t know that’s what he was.” It felt like she was trying to justify her actions, and maybe she was, but dammit, in the moment, it had been her or him. I walked away breathing and came home to Eric. “Regg had set him up, linking him to a killer I was hunting until we were pitted against each other. When that gig was done, I went to Regg. His reaction didn’t earn him forgiveness.” There, I’ll leave it at that.
A glance at Owen showed her his thoughtful nod, and Alace blew out a silent breath of air.
“I don’t trust easily.” Eric’s thumbs had started digging into the balls of her feet, and his touch faltered at her words, then continued. He knew it was true; she wasn’t revealing any great secrets here. Not to Eric, anyway. “I have Eric, and that’s pretty much it. I might give the benefit of the doubt to those he trusts, but even that’s only to a point.” She shrugged, happy to be nearing the end of this monologue that felt far too close to a confession. “And now, I find myself trusting you.” Elbows propped on the arms of the chair, she pinned Owen with the flat stare she used to unnerve people. “I don’t like it. I’ve never been that person. But I trust you, anyway. I like that you aren’t perfect, and you don’t hide it. I like that you aren’t afraid to call me on my shit. I think we could be good partners, but only if that trust, that faith and belief, goes both ways.”
Their locked stares held for fifteen seconds that stretched to thirty, then sixty—and finally Owen’s face split in a broad grin that had Alace rocking back in the chair in reaction.
“Called it. We’re besties.”
Alace’s internal response was immediate. Jesus Christ. I’m going to have to kill him. Externally, she held his gaze without providing any feedback to his brash statement. He wasn’t intimidated, the grin never wavering.
“Dibs on changing your nickname, though.”
“No.” At Alace’s one-word denial Eric’s touch changed, stuttering, and she broke the stare-down with Owen to glance at him, not really surprised to see his shoulders shaking. “Really, Eric?”
“Hey, Alace.” Owen’s call tore her attention away from her manically cackling husband, and when she saw the unexpectedly somber expression on Owen’s face, she readied herself for whatever was coming.
“Yeah?”
“That girl you were? Don’t hate on her anymore. I mean, sure, you already know it’s okay to mourn the things she didn’t get. To be pissed about the way life fucked her over. She got caught up at seventeen and might have stayed there for longer than
others. But you aren’t stunted, not like you think. You might have hit pause for a while, but you’re fully engaged in life now. That girl is your past, and that shit might be sordid and painful, but it’s in the past. A brutal fucking lesson, not a life sentence. That past is so damn messy, and I can only marvel at how well you came out of the fire that forged you. But it’s not you. Not now.” He settled to the floor, legs sprawled and knees cocked out to the side as he leaned back on his stiffened arms. “Dealt a shit hand and then had insult to injury added by that shit stain Regg. He set you up to be alone so he could control you. Years, you suffered. Alone and lonely.” Owen’s eyes blazed as he stared at her. “You aren’t lonely now. You might not recognize yourself yet, but the woman I see in front of me is strong and powerful, able to tackle any challenge directed her way.” He gave her a tiny smile, the barest glint of teeth showing through his parted lips. “You are going to be one fierce momma, and I’m honored that I’ll get to see it. The trust you demand, it’s there between us, and will only become stronger. I didn’t expect it. Hell, I bet neither of us did, but it’s where we are and I’m not too upset about it at all.” His laugh was low and soft, a transition sound to let her know he was done with the hard topics. Moving on to his more normal humor. “A partnership with the renowned Alace Sweets would be cool and all, but getting to work closely with my good friend Alace Ward?” The grin grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his cheeks lifted. “In the words of that damn TV ad, it’s priceless.”
Eyes burning with unshed tears, Alace didn’t bother trying to mask the depth of the emotions he’d stirred up. She sniffed and blinked, swallowing hard as she fought her chin for control, not wanting to lose her composure entirely. Breathing deeply through her nose, she eventually won the battle without a single drop escaping.
Seeking Worthy Pursuits: A Dark Romantic Suspense Novel (Alace Sweets Book 2) Page 21
