Mind Lies

by Harlow Stone

  He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for ye to worry about.”

  I don’t believe that at all, but he seems contemplative so I leave him be and begin the mile-long trek to the cottage.

  There are pathways all over the landscape, and I follow the one heading toward the water as I begin the walk home. Paddy often offers to drive me; he even left one of his old trucks at the cabin for me to use to get back and forth. But this bucolic walk is not a burden.

  It’s a blessing.

  After my fifth refusal, he stopped bugging me. But he made me promise to call or text Nessa when I arrive.

  ***

  I watch her from the covered porch as she makes her way along the lake.

  Jerri girl.

  It has been almost a month since I called her last, since I heard her soulful voice.

  God, she’s beautiful.

  It has been almost six months since I’ve held her, made love to her.

  Tasted her.

  I’ve been a stupid son of a bitch for letting something so perfect slip through my fingers, but I vowed that day in the hospital bed that I would never fuck this up again.

  I would never hurt her again as I have in the past.

  I would never, not for the rest of my life, take for granted how important she is.

  One could argue that she’s been weak in the past for choosing to stay with me, a man who has nothing to offer but incredible fucking and the occasional meal. The fucking part has always taken precedence over food, so I can’t even say that I eat with her often.

  Unless I’m eating her.

  Our trips to the coffee shop were as close as we’d gotten to sharing a meal because it was the busiest time of the year for me: fall through spring. Human trafficking slows down in the summer months because nobody wants to worry about their merchandise cooking in a container on its way to the port.

  It’s the end of November now, a busy time for business. But for once I don’t feel the guilt setting in. I don’t feel that weight I normally have on my shoulders of not working twenty hours a day, hell bent on saving every defenseless woman I cross paths with.

  Jerri continues her walk toward the cabin at a slow pace.

  She always loved it here, and you can tell by the way she takes her time, by the way she stops occasionally to take in her surroundings, to absorb the beauty of the landscape. I simply absorb her.

  The way her hands rest protectively on her stomach, which has grown with our child. She’d be five or six months pregnant now, and my God, how it suits her. The emerald-green tunic she has on is molded tightly to her perfectly round stomach. Her hair has grown a few inches, and her skin is paler from the lack of sunshine.

  But she glows.

  Not wanting to scare her from where I stand in the shadows, I walk out toward the light and wait until her hand is firmly gripped on the railing before speaking to her. There’s an odd sensation in my throat, as though there were a golf ball lodged in an awkward place. Swallowing past the offending lump, I manage to rasp, “You look beautiful, Lass.”

  Her head whips toward me, face whitening like a ghost. Her fingers dig so hard into the railing I’m surprised I haven’t heard it splinter.

  She heaves in a breath, and like the true bastard I am, I watch her tits. They are much larger than they used to be, having moved up her chest. Her neck flushes pink, and when I follow her flawless skin, I see the color matches her cheeks.

  She’s fucking stunning.

  There’s a fire in her eyes, a fire that I missed when she tore me a new asshole and gutted me at the hospital. The fire I’ve admired and envied, and I’m glad she has it back. It’s better news for me because if my Lass has some fight left in her, it means I still have a chance.

  It means I haven’t completely fucked everything up.

  “Why did you come here, Locklin?” she whispers, eyes still blazing, face contorted in agony as though it physically hurts her to speak to me.

  My fingers twitch with the urge to touch her, so I ball them into fists at my side before I do something stupid like grab her and kiss her fucking senseless.

  “For you, Lass. I came here for you.”

  She sighs in frustration, closing her eyes to gather herself before opening them with new resolve. Gripping the railing tighter, she ascends the steps and says, “Then you’ve wasted your time. If and when you come here, it should be for your family, not for me. Go and see them. Ness misses you.”

  Shaking my head, I follow her up the steps and tell her, “I did come to see my family, Lass.”

  She huffs. “Then why aren’t you with them?”

  “I am, Jerri girl. My family’s right in front of me.”

  Pausing with her hand on the door, she looks over her shoulder with the same expression on her face I probably had when she left me with nothing but an ultrasound picture.

  “You can’t come here and expect to win me back with words, Locklin.” Shaking her head sadly, she adds, “You can’t win me back at all.”

  Ignoring the burn in my chest, I grab on to my fiery Irish temper. “You’re wrong, Lass. I’m here to prove it to you.”

  She laughs humorlessly. “What are you going to do, Lock? Beat down my defenses, make me love you again? And then when you have me right where you want me, hop on your motorcycle in the middle of the night and take off?” She scoffs. “I’m not signing up for that life agai—”

  I cut her off, choosing not to acknowledge the “make me love you again” comment that implies she doesn’t love me anymore, and tell her, “I quit, Jerrilyn.” When she stops her tirade and turns to face me, I continue. “I met with Lee when I got off the phone with you last and told him I was done.”

  Walking into the pub, I spot Lee at our regular table. It’s not an inconspicuous place to meet, but two men sharing a pint in a pub is as common as it gets around here.

  Taking a seat across from him, I rub my hands over my tired face. I’ve been awake for nearly thirty-six hours. Ever since I told Jerri and Paddy what happened, I haven’t been able to sleep.

  I wish I were haunted by what Yakov would do to me if he found me again, or haunted by the memories of the shit I’ve seen over the years—the women and children. But that’s not what keeps me awake at night.

  For once, it’s something entirely different.

  I can’t sleep because I’m haunted by the fact that my Lass may not want me anymore. I’m haunted because she may look for the man who will rub her back, make her breakfast in bed, and be her plus-one at a fucking dinner party.

  And thinking of her with another man while she’s carrying my child eats at me. It pains and angers me enough to keep me awake at night.

  “I know what yer here to say,” Lee says, pulling me from my thoughts to the man in front of me.

  Lee’s become a friend. Well, as much of a friend as someone can be when in this line of work. If we meet for a drink, the talking is limited, but the comfortable silence is supportive. Lee’s a good man. A hard worker. If he says something, he means it, and if he doesn’t speak, it’s because there isn’t anything important to say.

  I don’t know all the details to Lee’s demons, as he knows mine. Of course, I had to share my story about Siobhan when I was asking around for help, but Lee is not so forthcoming.

  Not that I blame him. If I never had to talk about Siobhan’s death again, it would be too soon. All I know is there’s a void in his eyes that speaks to me. Or maybe it speaks to the eighteen-year-old me who found his girlfriend beaten to death.

  Either way, I’ve been a lucky bastard to have him as my contact with G2. Even luckier is the fact that he’s boots to the ground when I need him. When I started this, I was strictly a gatherer. With my contacts at many of the ports, I could get insider info that G2 didn’t have. But that information grew to be too big for just one person. Once Lee and I rescued Jerri, it lit a new fire in me—a fire that wanted to do more than just sit around and get information.

  A fire that led me to the shoot
ing range more often. And when I wasn’t at the range, I was at the gym sparring with Lee, or some other unlucky bastard at the receiving end of my wrath.

  That fire turned into anger and bitterness, but I held onto it because that kept me focused.

  Focused not on the woman who was nearly taken from me. Focused on the mission.

  My promise to Siobhan.

  “What do ya think I’m here to say?” I ask.

  The linebacker-sized agent runs a hand over his buzz cut before settling his vacant eyes on my own. “That it’s over for ya, and I need to find a new partner.”

  Partner.

  That’s the thing about Lee. He respects me. Never saw me or simply used me as a means to an end, a middle man to gather puzzle pieces while he put them together.

  No.

  He treated me as an equal.

  I can’t say it’s been the same for some of the other agents I’ve met. Some are so uptight that you would want to pry the stick out of their asses and beat some fucking sense into them with it.

  Nodding, I ask, “How’d you know?”

  He smirks, but there’s no mirth or humor in his eyes. “I’ve seen her, Lock. I ain’t fuckin’ blind.”

  I smirk back. “Aye. Carryin’ a babe looks good on her.”

  Lee goes to have a drink of his beer but pauses and then sets it back down. “She’s pregnant?”

  I nod, half-confused because I thought his comment was regarding the pregnancy. But obviously the prick was just commenting on her looks. I don’t blame him; Jerri’s stunning. But that doesn’t mean I want every other bastard to think so.

  “How far along?” he asks.

  “About five months with my son.” Fuck it feels good and scary to say that.

  My son.

  “Why the fuck ya still sittin’ here, Locklin?” He shakes his head in frustration. “Thought you were a dumb shit when ya kept workin’ with me after that night we rescued Jerri. Kept askin’ myself, ‘What man in his right fuckin’ mind has a good woman to go home to and chooses to do this?’”

  Shaking his head, he looks out around the bar and gathers his next words before settling his eyes back on me. “Now you got a son on the way, but for the past five months you been runnin’ in the shadows at night with me instead of bein’ with yer fuckin’ family?”

  Slamming my beer down on the table, I say, “I finish what I start, Lee. We had a job to do, and that job isn’t finished because Yakov is still out there. I don’t care if we’ve taken down at least a dozen of his men over the years. It won’t stop for me until we get him.”

  “You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Lock.” He spits at me in frustration. “This ain’t about Yakov anymore. This is about your promise to a fuckin’ ghost.” Leaning closer, he adds, “Ghosts can’t warm your bed at night, Lock. And they sure as fuck can’t give you family. You got both of those waitin’ for you. You had one waitin’ on you for a decade, and yet you sit here with my sorry ass?”

  I feel like a fuck, and he looks as if I kicked his dog. No longer held back by boundaries, I ask, “What the fuck put you here, Lee? Why’s it not okay for me to chase a ghost, but you can?”

  Chugging a healthy portion of his beer, he looks off, lost in though, and says, “Had a family once, Lock. I’d drop this job in a heartbeat for more time with them. But they aren’t here, and I’ve got nothin’ left to lose. But you? You got somethin’ worth waking up for every day, and she’s a hell of a lot warmer than that ghost you’re chasin’.”

  Lee was right.

  “I hooked Lee up with Patrick at the dock in Belfast. He’s going to bring in another agent to work on bringing down Yakov. It’s too risky for me anyway since I was followed. But I’m done, Jerri.”

  I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. I’ve said the words she’s waited so long to hear, for a decade. I thought it would be harder, but Lee was right. I belonged here all along. It only took me twelve years, a bullet, and a good tongue-lashing from my fiery Lass.

  When she starts nodding her head, I know I’ve got her. I know I’ve done something to make her happy. Licking her lips, she starts to speak, and I do all I can to focus on her eyes and not her mouth. “That’s good, Locklin. I’m sure it was a tough decision to make—”

  “Easiest decision of my life, Lass.”

  Giving me a small smile, she tells me. “You deserve freedom, Locklin. You deserve your own life. I’m happy for you, truly I am.” She shakes her head. “But don’t mistake my happiness for forgiveness.”

  She’s fucking killing me.

  Rubbing my chest, I watch as she walks into the house. “Go see Paddy and Ness before they go to bed.”

  I grumble, “Already seen Paddy.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Of course he’s been to see Paddy. And that’s why Paddy was somber after dinner, the slippery old bastard. He knew how I would react. He also knew I wouldn’t want to see him.

  So why did Paddy let him come here?

  Any other day, Paddy would have told him to take his lyin’ arse elsewhere, so long as elsewhere wasn’t anywhere near me.

  I watch as Lock rubs his chest, either feeling pain from the bullet or something else. I don’t know.

  “Go home, Locklin.”

  He looks to the house and then to me. “Paddy won’t let me in the house.”

  I raise a brow at him. He adds, “Told me not to ask Nessa either. Said I’m not allowed to sleep there until I pull my head out of my arse.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him you quit?”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he says, “I did. That’s not why he thinks my head’s up my arse.”

  I frown. “So go stay at your flat in town.”

  He shakes his head. “Got rid of the flat ten years ago, Lass.”

  “I thought you kept it. I know you didn’t stay here all those times you came back.”

  “I stayed on the boat. If I had any free time, I wasn’t gonna waste it in an empty flat when on the other side of the pond was a flat with my woman in it.”

  God help me.

  “I’m not your woman anymore, and I don’t want you to stay here, Locklin. If that’s the case, I may as well head back to Boston.”

  Reaching around me, he opens the door and gestures into the cabin. “I thought you might say that, so I’ll remind you that going into early labor on a ship with no real medical team could be a disaster. What if something went wrong and you were still days from reaching land?”

  He has a point, but I don’t tell him that.

  “And you haven’t used your original passport since you arrived in Ireland twelve years ago. It’s possible Yakov is no longer looking for you, but he wouldn’t forget you either. I also know nobody has crossed him or witnessed his crimes and lived to tell about it. If we’re smart, we’ll assume using your passport will raise a red flag and alert him to where you are.”

  “If I stay, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you here,” I tell him, rubbing my lower back. Between the walk and standing here having a conversation I never wanted to start in the first place, it’s aching.

  His eyes soften, ever the astute one when it comes to the needs of a woman’s body.

  Just not her heart.

  “You need to rest, Lass.”

  Pointing to the door, I tell him, “And you need to leave.”

  He shakes his head. “Never. I’m never leaving again, Jerri.”

  Too tired to argue, too tired to continue a conversation that won’t quit unless he wants it to, I wave over my shoulder as I head to the bedroom. “You want to stay where you’re not wanted, Locklin, that’s fine.” Pausing when I reach the doorway, I look over my shoulder at his solid frame, which dwarfs this little abode. “But I haven’t forgiven you. Go see Ness; she’ll be more charitable.”

  I don’t wait for his reply. I simply shut the door to what was once my haven, my place of peace.

  Peace went out the window the minute I found him on my porch.


  Leaning my head against the door, I mumble, “What are you doing, Locklin? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away?”

  It would have been easier.

  After washing my face, I change into my nightshirt and get into bed. Only when the house is quiet and the stars are brightest do I give into my tears.

  ***

  I’ve been lying awake in bed, listening to the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen. Sometimes Nessa comes to cook me breakfast, but I have a feeling it’s not her.

  If Ness was here, she’d be talking to herself, or humming.

  There’s no humming.

  Sleep didn’t come easy last night, and I’m tired, more tired than usual. But apparently that’s the norm when carrying a child.

  They suck the life out of you.

  There’s no warning when the door to my bedroom opens, which lets me know it’s definitely not Ness. Locklin’s body takes up the better part of the doorway. In one hand, he has a glass of orange juice. In the other, he has a small tray.

  “Morning, Lass,” he says, face brighter than yesterday, dressed for the day in a pair of jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt.

  Sitting up in the bed, I lean against the headboard. “What are you doing, Lock?”

  He sets the orange juice down on the nightstand and places the tray on my lap. Swallowing thickly, I take in the plate of food.

  Egg’s Benny.

  “I haven’t quite mastered the poached egg part of this,” he says, waving his hand toward the messy pile of eggs. “In fact, I watched a YouTube video on poached eggs three times, and I think it’s a fucking joke because I did exactly what it said, and they look, well, like that.”

  Working hard to keep a straight face, I try not to laugh. “I’m sure they taste the same as pretty eggs.”

  He nods, thinking seriously about it. “You’re probably right.”

  Clearing my throat, I ask, “Why aren’t you with Nessa? I told you she wanted to see you.”

  He sighs and takes a seat in the chair by my window, angling toward the bed. “I went to see her this morning.” Running his hands through his thick hair, he adds, “She’s not my biggest fan at the moment either, Lass.”