Three streets over was the house he’d grown up in. The current tenants were a young couple, just married, hoping to open their own bar, as his lawyer informed him. As if South Boston didn’t have enough already. He scanned the perimeter, noted the number of street corners. If Mary sold herself for money, she could have easily picked up a john on the corner, taken him back to her apartment. Made for good business, Jax supposed. The property wasn’t gated, or even fenced, just an open lot.
Jax stood just inside the glass entryway. Dirt and smudges ran along the panes, obviously not cleaned since the building had been constructed. The metal stairway needed a paint job, and the linoleum floor peeled in several spots. It looked like acid had eaten away at some of it.
Jax recognized Mickey’s old beat up truck, the bed about to fall off and the rebel flag posted in the back window. Jax grinned. The piece of shit still ran. He went outside, satisfied to see Mickey hadn’t changed one bit. His gray hair still stood up, though the bald spot in the middle had grown. His paunch spread through the years, but the retired cop still managed to wear a belt. A cigar hung out of his jowls, and the caterpillars on his forehead moved every time he made an expression. God, it was good to see the old man.
“Well, well. Jax. You fuck-nut. You went and growed up.”
Jax met him at the door, shook the shorter man’s hand. Mickey wheezed slightly as he waddled up the metal staircase. “Place is a piece of shit.”
Jax observed the corroded walls, cigarette butts and broken bottles on the staircase. He thought he even saw a condom, but he couldn’t be sure. They took the first landing. Mickey pointed to a door on the right. “That’s the neighbor I was telling you about. Mean old bitch.”
Jax knocked once, his knuckles banged against the hollow door. Hollow door. Probably hollow walls, too. Looked promising. Jax stepped back when a woman opened the door, her scraggly, dishwater blond hair hung in her face, covering one of her eyes. “Yeah?” she croaked.
“My name is Jax. My sister lived next door, Mary.”
The woman looked him up and down, her hair falling out of her face as she tilted her head back. “My, you’re a big boy. I’ll give you a discount if you’re looking for lovin’, sugar.”
Jax reigned in his retort, counted to three. He flexed his hand. “No, thank you. My sister, Mary. Can you tell me anything about her?”
The woman’s bloodshot brown eyes settled on Mickey. “I remember you, badgering me about the woman across the hall. Is that what this is about?”
Jax tried to keep patience with himself, with her. The rest of the world didn’t operate the way he did, so, there would have to be allowances in some cases. “Yes. Mary. She died a couple of weeks ago?”
The woman coughed into a stained hand, her yellowed fingertips pressed against her lips. “Yes, I remember. Made a ruckus. The police chased off my client.”
“Can you tell me anything about Mary’s visitors?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re not the fuzz, are you? Sure look like it.”
Never in Jax’s life had he wanted to throttle a woman, but he nearly wrapped his fingers around her skinny neck. He physically threaded his fingers together, leaned against the doorway. He shot Mickey a ‘help me’ look, but Mickey had taken to studying the line of roaches marching toward the stairs. Jax shivered. He hated roaches.
“I’m not a cop. Just Mary’s brother.”
“Well, I only heard her yelling’ at one person. I never actually saw the guy. His name was Mace. For all I know, she could have been on the phone.”
Jax filed away the information. “Thank you for your time.”
The door shut in his face, and Jax straightened away from the wall. “Let’s go into Mary’s apartment. See what we can find.”
Mickey’s caterpillars crashed into each other. “That’s illegal.”
Jax pulled his little set of tools from his back pocket. Ax gave them to him for their Christmas exchange one year, and they’d proved to come in handy in tight situations. Jax shook off the thoughts about his team. The sooner this got resolved, the sooner it would be a memory, too.
“I’m not a cop, and you’re not a cop. Besides, who the hell is going to call them in this building?”
Mickey shrugged, continued puffing away on his cigar. “All right, let’s see what you got kid.”
Jax set to work on the lock. It was child’s play. The door swung inward, and Jax stepped over the threshold. The smell of stale beer, marijuana smoke and throw up assailed his nostrils. He didn’t flinch. He flipped on the light, and surveyed the small space. No furniture. He moved past a pile of empty card-board boxes.
“Where is her stuff?”
“Don’t know,” Mickey said. “Never actually came in here. Seeing as how I still uphold the law.”
Jax glared at the older man, and turned over a box, beneath an army of bugs scattered. Old magazines. An ashtray. “Is this where she OD’d?”
“No. They found her body in a hotel over on the east side.”
Something about the information didn’t jive. Jax continued looking through the rooms. A bathroom he wouldn’t dare go in, an empty bedroom with only a mattress. No sheets, no girlie things. No clothes. The kitchen was empty of food or utensils. “She didn’t live here.”
“Doesn’t look like she had much.”
Jax motioned for Mickey to go back out, and once they were safely on the street again, Jax stopped, taking in the clean oxygen. Well, cleaner. “I wonder where she actually lived. That was a place of business. I’m willing to bet on it.”
Mickey smoothed his fingers over a fresh cigar. “I’ll get right on it, and see what I can dig up on Mace.”
Jax thanked his old friend, then told him to lay off the cigars unless he wanted to die an early death. The sun had risen higher in the sky. Probably around ten a.m. He had to get back to Ivory. He’d left her alone for longer than he’d planned.
Jax started the engine before checking his cellular phone for missed calls and messages. When he noticed three missed calls from a DSN, Jax’s heart rate skyrocketed. Something had happened, and it wasn’t good. They wouldn’t be calling him on leave if it wasn’t serious. Shit.
His team was in trouble.
Jax felt it in his gut.
Chapter Nine
Ivory blinked rapidly. Something had woken her. She sat up in the rocker, pushed the curtain of hair out of her face, and glanced around the nursery. She stood, stretched her arms and wandered over to the crib. Ashley sat up, her little fist in her mouth, drool running down her arm. Ivory smiled for the little angel. “Did you wake me?”
Ashley grinned, slobber spilling from the corner of her mouth. She laughed out loud, and Ivory’s chest tightened with affection. “Are you hungry? Do you need a diaper change?”
She leaned in, picked up the baby. “I think you do.”
After she changed the baby’s diaper, Ivory searched for the little pink bath towel set she’d picked out. The hood of the towel had a Piglet’s face, and fit perfectly over Ashley’s blond hair. She picked up the basket of shampoo, soap and wash rags. “I think we’ll have to find another bathroom for you.”
Ivory searched the entire top floor for an additional bathroom, and when she found none, headed to the lower level. The only other bathroom in Jax’s house was unfinished. The dry wall still exposed, no tub put in, only a pedestal sink and cabinets. Ivory stared at her reflection in the square mirror he’d hung. Startled, she saw herself, the short black hair, blue eyes, but the addition of Ashley to her hip, took her aback. Sure, she loved children, but never thought of having one of her own. Until now.
“Let’s go to the kitchen. I think the sink is big enough for your little butt.”
As she moved through the hallway of Jax’s downstairs floor, she peaked in the other rooms. His office was small, but efficient with a black computer and several bookcases lining the walls. A metal desk, ordinary office chair. No fuss, no muss. No place for anyone to sit but Jax.
Unlike the other rooms in his home, she sensed his presence in the weight room. She could smell old sweat, like dirty gym socks. The mat was scuffed from use, and the punching bag looked as though it were on its last leg.
Ashley made a noise, and Ivory backed out of the room. This must be his sanctuary, she thought. With Jax gone, she realized just how Spartan his entire home was. Jax needed a woman, if only to decorate. Her Nana would be up for the challenge.
Ivory set the basket down on the kitchen table, and filled the sink with lukewarm water. Just as she got Ashley in the bath, Jax walked through the kitchen door. Ivory knew the instant she saw his face something was wrong. He looked murderous, his green eyes black with anger. He held his shoulders square. He didn’t say a word to her, only pounded up the back stairs, his boots slamming against the wood. Ivory flinched with each footfall.
“Ashley, I think we’ve got trouble.”
Ashley splashed water up into Ivory’s face. She finished with the baby, dressed her in a warm jumper and cleaned up the small mess Ashley’s bath made. By the time she got back upstairs, the furious stomping ceased, and Ivory grew worried.
Hesitantly, she knocked on Jax’s door.
“Are you all right?”
Jax swung open the door, and when Ivory entered, he had a huge green duffel bag on his bed. Methodically, he put his rolled T-shirts, socks and uniform in, followed by wicked looking combat boots. In went a medical kit, a long blade, long-johns, a small tent. And the list went on, things she’d never thought to put in a suitcase before going in right after another strange object. The strangest had to be a suit made of twigs and weeds. “What is that?”
Jax didn’t even spare her a glance. “A Ghillie suit.”
Ivory sat Ashley down on the bed, the furthest corner from Jax and his strange mood. “What happened? Did you find anything out about Mary?”
In went a shaving kit. “Mary’s address was her place of business. I don’t know where she actually lived. I’ve given Mickey instructions to contact you from here on out.”
Ivory felt panic rise in her throat. “Jax. What happened?”
Jax didn’t miss a beat. He pulled a long black box from beneath his bed, the one she’d seen the first time she met him. He keyed in the lock code. Ivory’s eyes widened when she saw the rifle gleam in the bedroom light. They’d been having sex with that thing under there? She swallowed hard, pushing down the unease.
Jax sat down on the bed, his weight causing Ashley to lose her balance and topple over. Ivory righted her before she focused on Jax again. He took out the weapon. It was a M24, standard issue Army sniper rifle. She knew the weapon, had even shot one before. However, buying one was out of the question, nor did she have a need for it. They were used for one thing and one thing only. Killing.
Jax broke the thing down in record time, looked through the scope, cleaned the barrel and had it together again in less than ten minutes. He worked quickly, filling the case with the grisly weapon again, and shut it. He secured it with a lock.
“Where are you going?”
Jax stopped long enough to run a hand back through his hair. “The mission’s gone south. It’s a recovery operation now. I’m needed. I have to leave tonight.”
Ivory’s heart skidded, stopped. “Gone south?”
He didn’t bother answering her. Instead, he hauled the two heavy pieces of luggage down the stairs, and Ivory sat with Ashley on the bed, half-stunned and half-terrified. He was leaving. When Ashley started to cry, Ivory bolted into action. “Jax!”
She caught up with him in his office. He pinned her with a stare so cold, she felt frostbite spread over her hands, toes.
“This is my office, and what I do is classified. Please, leave.”
Tears filled Ivory’s eyes, and she backed away. She clasped Ashley to her chest, and headed for the living room. Out of her own need, and the crying baby, she rocked. It seemed like hours later Jax appeared once more, the lines of exhaustion evident on his deeply tanned face. He sat down on the chair next to her, stared at the dormant fireplace. “I’m giving temporary guardianship of Ashley to you.”
Ivory jerked out of her coma. “What?”
Jax still evaded her pleading eyes. “I think you’re the best candidate. I don’t want her in the system. I don’t know when I’ll be back, and I know you can give her a good home.”
Ivory cringed at his sterile tone. “I just can’t take a baby, Jax. My job is important to me, too.”
Jax shot out of his seat and paced across the living room. Ivory hadn’t noticed it before, but he’d put on black fatigues. His biceps bulged out of the Lycra shirt he wore, the tattoos grotesquely beautiful. Under armor. She knew the brand of clothes. “I don’t know anyone else, Ivory. I trust you with her.”
She looked down at the contented baby. Ashley’s blue eyes implored Ivory to love her, and Ivory had no choice but to answer. “I don’t know how it will work. I suppose I could pay Jenny to take her while I’m working, but, Jax, this is a big decision.”
Eventually, he did look at her. Frozen lakes of green stared back at her. Ivory sighed inwardly. The soldier, the sniper resided there now, and Ivory could no longer distinguish the two of his personalities. He was both, and yet not.
“Just take care of her. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
And the unspoken sentence hanging between them. I don’t know if I’ll be back.
A sudden rise of emotion gripped Ivory. Fear. Not of him, but for him. He was leaving to go into a war, a place he could potentially be hurt or killed. The thought of world without Jax seemed terrifying, dark and dangerous. Jax made the world safe.
“Look, I don’t expect you to, uh,” he stopped, took a deep breath. “Honor our arrangement now that I’m going. You’re free, Ivory.”
Anger suffused her cheeks and her blood. She just had a major moment, and he told her she could date other people, as if it didn’t matter anymore to him. He was leaving, so his fuck buddy was no longer needed. “Screw you, Jax.”
“I told you when this started when I left it was over.”
“And now you want me to take care of Ashley,” Ivory pointed out. “I don’t think that’s fair, do you?”
He crossed the room so fast, Ivory blinked and his face was in hers. “Let me tell you about unfair, Ivory. Unfair is finding out one of your best friends and brother’s has been shot. Unfair is finding out your commanding officer has been captured. Unfair is being sent to the states when a critical mission is taking place. Let me tell you how Alpha Team works.”
He sucked air in through his nose, gaining steam. “We live together, we die together. That’s how it goes. My men are down there, the mission in shreds, and I’m here. I got three calls today, three! All the while, I’m in the projects of Boston looking for answers to a sister’s life I never knew. I didn’t love her. She meant nothing to me. The men I bleed for are my family. That’s unfair.”
Ivory sat back, clear on Jax’s priorities for the first time. She’d known it all along, but until that moment, she never understood how deep the ties go between the men who fight together. At the expense of everything else, they survive because of the team. She took a deep, calm breath. Let it out. “Then you’re right. You have to go. I’ll take care of Ashley.”
Jax was a lost cause, but Ashley wasn’t. “I’m not sure how we’ll work the paperwork out, but I’ll tell my superior on Monday. We’ll file the documents. Do you want to support her?”
Jax relaxed, deflated right in front of her. The weariness in his eyes, on the lines of his face, broke her heart. “I’ll support her. We can communicate via DSN.”
A sliv
er of hope budded in Ivory’s sickeningly tight chest. “That’s fine.”
She would be able to speak with him, know that he was all right. That he survived despite the odds. She watched as Jax pulled a pad and pen out of a drawer. “This is the number to the group on Fort Bragg. Colonel Reagan is in charge there. If anything, and I mean anything, happens with Mickey and Ashley, get a message to him. He’ll know how to get a hold of me.”
“Otherwise, I’ll contact you myself.”
And that was that. Ivory felt the shutdown. He handed her a key to his house so she could pick up Ivory’s things from the nursery, and helped put the baby into her car. Jax didn’t say anything to her as she got in the car, tears in her eyes. She backed out of his driveway, watching his fading silhouette against a dying sun in the rear-view mirror.
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