Damned If You Don't

by Linda J. Parisi

  “Never!” she fired back at him. “If I had a knife right now, I’d cut your balls off.”

  He smiled. “No you wouldn’t, kitten. You’d have nothing to play with then.”

  Furious, Morgan couldn’t even think straight. “You freaking son of a bitch!”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn you to hell and back again.”

  “Welcome to my world.”

  Morgan really wanted to cry. Then she wanted to hurt him. And keep on hurting him until he felt the same way she did. But that wouldn’t save her, and right now, all the hurt in the world would be in vain if she got caught.

  “All right, you win,” she said finally. “We do this your way. I go along for the ride. But, baby, watch out when we get there, because I’m going to spend my every waking moment thinking of ways to pay you back. We’re going to have a reckoning, remember that.”

  He sighed as if he already knew what he was facing. Then he motioned for her to drive the car out of the car wash and over to the limousine service.

  “Yes, we will.”

  AS HE WAITED for her to pull back over to the limousine service, Jack had a reckoning with himself. He’d been powerless to stop himself. He’d fallen right into their one enchanted evening. He’d become emotionally involved with the target and committed a cardinal sin.

  Problem was, he hadn’t slept during their night together. And when she’d eased out of his bed, when the door to his room closed, well, all of a sudden he felt empty inside. Hurt and empty. But that hadn’t stopped him from making his phone call. And now he was paying for the mistake of the century.

  Bewildered, Jack couldn’t begin to fathom what was going on. The kind of fire that erupted between the two of them happened to a man, if he was really lucky, once in his life.

  He’d gotten one enchanted evening. Plus.

  A grin spread across his face, and Jack turned his head away so she wouldn’t see. He remembered her expressions against the bulkhead on the ferry, especially when he’d used the knife. He’d nearly exploded right then and there.

  Then he remembered the world of hurt in her gaze as he and Sam greeted each other. His grin faded.

  Jack had honed his tracking skills as an Army Ranger. Iraq and Afghanistan weren’t the only thorns in America’s side. There were others. Little by little, Jack began to excel at his job. He fed off the challenge. The harder the jobs became, the more he enjoyed them. Until it occurred to him that in finding these people, he might be setting them up, possibly for extermination. And that still wouldn’t have been a problem. They were the enemy. Until a couple of kids got mixed in. Then he started questioning motives, and he didn’t like what he saw. He served his term, he played good little soldier until his last tour was up.

  The army hadn’t wanted to let him go.

  Jack didn’t give them a choice. He disappeared in exchange for an honorable discharge and waited a long time before resurfacing. Sam gave him his life back, let him do what he did best—find people—without them getting killed.

  Until now.

  Which didn’t make sense. Sam wouldn’t just give up his soul for a bunch of zeroes on a check.

  Would he?

  If Jack could ask himself that question, the possibility existed. The Sam he knew was long gone, ten years gone. Could that have made the accusations during his clandestine meeting a reality? Or was it simply the number of zeroes he might have been offered, that Sam couldn’t refuse?

  Jack was very close to doubting the sky was blue at this point. So he needed to find out whatever was going on. Someone was a really, really good liar. Because Sam wasn’t stupid, and he didn’t get snowed very easily.

  And Sam certainly wasn’t about to throw away his honor for nothing.

  Which left both he and Morgan drowning in a sinkhole filled with raw sewage. And the only way Jack knew to get out of a sinkhole, even one that smelled as bad as this, was to dig. And keep on digging. Until he found the truth.

  Truth? Wasn’t that being a bit two-faced?

  Jack frowned, acknowledging she had every right to hate him. Now, he had every reason to protect her. Last but not least, he owed Morgan a debt, and that was to get to the bottom of this sinkhole. He turned his head to stare at her profile.

  What the hell did you do, Morgan?

  Chapter Five

  As they climbed into the back of the limousine, Morgan realized that between the bursts of anger and then the surreal feeling surrounding her, she was exhausted. Silent tears, the tears she’d tried to hold back, now dripped down her cheeks. She would wipe them away, but they would keep coming back.

  When he zeroed in on her face, he muttered a curse. And yet even though he’d hurt her, he took a long moment to break the connection. Her features hardened. She willed her heart not to feel. She turned off the sickness in her stomach. And she smiled.

  “Is your name really Jackson Kent?” Morgan asked, needing answers.

  “Yes. Andrew Jackson Kent.”

  She almost laughed. “And you’re a tracker. Like a bounty hunter?”

  He scowled at her as if she’d called him a dirty name. He was lower than dirt. “I’m a tracer. I find people. I’m not a bounty hunter. I don’t turn them in for money.”

  Time for some payback. Painful payback. “You don’t? Obviously your ‘partner’ does. So I guess it’s a matter of semantics.”

  His jaw tightened, and he didn’t answer.

  “So exactly what is the connection between you and your, ah, friend?” she continued.

  He winced at her dig. “We were in the army together.”

  That was interesting. And did explain some of his loyalty. But nothing could ever explain his betrayal. “Did he tell you why he was looking for me?”

  “No. And I didn’t ask.”

  “I guess I can understand that. It’s easier that way. Isn’t it?”

  Again he didn’t reply. “Isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he bit out.

  Poor bastard, she thought, even though not an ounce of her felt any remorse. He had no idea what was going on. “So he never explained to you that I’m one of the good guys.”

  “Good guys?” he exploded. “How can that be? You’re a thief.”

  She frowned. “I guess that’s a matter of semantics. Like the word trust.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Morgan sighed. “The work I stole was mine.”

  “Seriously?”

  Morgan started laughing at the shocked look on his face. Oh, the deliciously sad irony of it all. Or as they say, one good turn deserves another. He’d screwed her over, then gotten screwed over by his buddy.

  So Jack didn’t really know why his partner, oh yes, that’s right, Sam, was looking for her. That meant he also didn’t know what was in the journals on her thumb drive.

  “Information, Jack,” she sneered. “One tiny piece of the equation can change the entire outcome.” When Jack didn’t answer she added, “He didn’t tell you that on purpose.”

  She watched him frown, that same deep frown from the parking lot, as he considered the truth of her words. Okay, now, Jack. Here comes the really important question. “Would you have taken the job if he had?”

  “No.”

  Score one for you. “You could just be saying that, you know.”

  He winced, a sadness stealing over his countenance. “If you believe that after what we shared—”

  Believe? How could she believe anything right now? Exactly how many betrayals was she expected to handle?

  “Don’t even go near there!” she cried as her insides filled with pain. “You have no right.”

  His jaw clenched again, but he had the good sense not to speak. This was her show for the moment, and he was going to bleed.

  “At the hotel when I walked in looking for a room. Why did you make contact with me? You’d already found me. There was no need.”

  When he didn’t answer, Morgan watched the tic in his cheek with morbid fascination. A desire t
o knife out his emotions and make them spill out like life’s blood filled her. But Morgan was first and foremost a scientist. Satisfaction wouldn’t get her the information she needed, so she fell back onto her most trusted belief—her belief in logic. And she thought out loud.

  “All you had to do was—oh, I get it. You wanted to keep me close by, didn’t you? You didn’t want me to get away so you’d have to track me down again.”

  “Yes.”

  “But not that close.”

  “No.” He scowled at her as her words drove the truth home with precision.

  “You took a pretty big risk,” she continued. “One wrong word would have jeopardized your entire mission. On the other hand, closing the quote unquote surveillance gap kept me from bolting, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was the sex part of the facade?”

  He winced. Good. Causing him pain help ease the ache in her heart. And yet there was a hollow emptiness to this pleasure. Morgan decided asking why would be best left for later.

  “An hour ago you wouldn’t have asked that question.”

  “An hour ago I wouldn’t have had to,” she spat out. “Are you going to answer?”

  He shook his head. “You already know what the answer is.”

  Did she?

  “So does it matter? That I’m really not a thief?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered, his tone a touch perplexed. “I’m still not sure of the truth. Corporate espionage is stealing in my book. I have your word against your employer’s on that one.”

  “And my word against Sam’s,” she shot back at him, her gaze narrowing. “Gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, doesn’t it?”

  He glared at her, and the tic really began to jump in his cheek. Morgan simply smiled back at him.

  Ding, ding, ding. Round one to you, girlfriend. “That brings us full circle, Jack. Because you’ve been exceptionally consistent up until now.”

  He raised a brow at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Once a bastard, always a bastard,” she sneered.

  He inclined his head. “Touché.”

  She inclined her head back at him. “So I’m going to ask. Even though I know I shouldn’t.” Morgan paused just long enough to make her point. “Why were you willing to help me get away?”

  He blew out a short, sharp breath. “I’d have thought that was obvious.”

  “Oh, no, darling. Enlighten me. Say it. I dare you.”

  He caught her gaze with his, allowing her to see what was inside him. “I care.”

  Morgan shook her head, anger flaring, burning hot inside her belly. Oh really? “You care so much about me that you were willing to screw me over? Even after you screwed me?”

  “I—I didn’t screw you.” His gaze held on to hers. “I made love to you.”

  Even now she could feel his touch on her body. “You betrayed me. In spite of—” She didn’t finish. She couldn’t.

  His eyes widened as realization cut into him. She almost felt sorry for him, because there weren’t enough words in the world to apologize for what he’d done to her.

  Morgan shuddered, keeping a very tight lock on the floodgates before her emotions got out of control. And that brought her full circle.

  “There was another reason, wasn’t there?”

  He nodded. “I gave you to Sam on a silver platter. But when we docked, there were no police cars. I called Sam to find out why. He told me there wasn’t time. It sounded lame. But I accepted it.”

  Morgan thought about that for a moment. It all came down to trust. Jack had trusted his partner. Poor fool.

  “And it never occurred to you to question his methods,” she replied, her tone half question, half statement.

  “No.”

  Now this was where the ugly part came in. Because Morgan was the only one that knew she was innocent. On both the theft and the murder.

  “He didn’t call the police because technically I didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted. “The data was mine. My work. My project.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t make judgments,” he insisted. “And that’s a matter of interpretation.”

  She snorted in disbelief. “Then you’re a fool.”

  He shrugged. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  Morgan doubted that. He’d done a pretty good job on her.

  “I knew something was really wrong as soon as I saw Sam’s car in the outlet mall,” he continued. “And still no police.”

  “No police?” she repeated. “I don’t understand.”?

  He shifted in his seat as if he wanted to pace but couldn’t because of the confines of the car. “We hand perpetrators over to the authorities, damn it! Sometimes I work with the police; most of the time I don’t. But we uphold the law; we don’t break it.” He raked his hand through his hair. “At least, I thought we did.”

  “So you were doing this under the impression that there was some kind of warrant out for my arrest?” Which would have been impossible. BioClin wouldn’t want anyone to know they’d lost their golden egg.

  “No. He never said there was any kind of warrant. Sam told me you were wanted for questioning in connection with the theft of corporate property. Which meant handing you over to the police.”

  “And that’s all he said to you?”

  “Yes.” She watched him lean forward and stare at his fingers as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands, or himself, before he lifted his gaze to hers. “Don’t you get it? I don’t ask for more.”

  Morgan let that one go for the moment. She had to understand what she was up against, so she could figure out her next steps.

  “So much for friendship,” she sighed. Jack’s gaze skittered away in answer. But she asked anyway. “Now that he has a stake in this, Sam isn’t going to stop until he finds me, is he?”

  “No, not if he’s personally involved.”

  All right, pit bull against pit bull. She could handle that. But she needed more information.

  “Exactly how good is he?”

  He gave her a halfhearted grin. “He hired me, didn’t he?”

  She didn’t answer that.

  “Now it’s my turn to ask a question,” he continued. “Because I really need to know.” He took a deep breath, and she recognized the hurt in his gaze. “What the hell is going on?”

  How much did she tell him? While her entire psyche wanted to pour itself out to him because of the sheer stress of the situation, he was still the enemy.

  “It seems your friend betrayed you because of what I have in my possession,” she answered.

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Jack asked her, his tone low and filled with disbelief.

  “That he’s going to try to retrieve it.”

  “That’s his job,” he fired back at her.

  Morgan nodded. “Yes. But there’s a flip side to that. He’s not going to care if you stand in the way.”

  She watched him frown and rub his face with his hands. Then he leaned back in his seat to look out the window. And no matter how good his discomfort felt at the moment, it had no bearing on what was going to happen next. Because no matter which way she visualized the past, she was still a wanted woman on the run. And no matter which way she visualized the future, everything had just gone from bad to worse, allowing her to come up with only one end result. Dr. Morgan McKenzie was a dead woman.

  Chapter Six

  Morgan sat bolt upright in the seat, nostrils flaring to catch each delectable pheromone he exuded. Exhausted, she must have dozed off for a moment. Then she realized what woke her up.

  She’d have to have a talk with her nose later.

  He gave her a sort of half smile, looking no worse for wear while she felt like she’d been run over by a Mack truck. He couldn’t shutter his gaze fast enough though, and she saw the desire there. Half-awake and half-asleep, her body betrayed her, yearning for the fire, the incredible sensation of fulfillment. He’d awakened feelings deep insid
e, broken open a dam of tightly held emotions. As a scientist, Morgan wasn’t allowed the luxury of feelings. She’d been taught to think, deduct, and reason.

  Jack had changed all that.

  Morgan didn’t know whether to be grateful or furious. Could one enchanted evening really alter a person that much?

  Her mind filled with a picture she’d seen in a zoology text—a chrysalis—a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. He’d broken open her cocoon and given her the ability to fly free. That might, just might, keep him alive when they stopped.

  “Easy, kitten.”

  Her gaze must have narrowed, because his half smile fled, and yet her heartbeat soared from zero to sixty in less than three seconds, a new land-speed record. To hide her reaction to him, she turned away to look out at the landscape speeding by them. A new wave of motion sickness ruined what mood was left inside her.

  “Call me Morgan. Better yet, make that Dr. Mackenzie. You have no right to call me kitten anymore.”

  “All right, Morgan. But this isn’t about me, anymore. It’s about you.”

  She snorted in disgust, hugging herself to keep from going after him again. “Nice of you to understand that.”

  “Not too long ago, I screwed over my best friend and partner to save your sorry ass. I even let you sleep. The least you could do is try to be a tiny bit grateful.”

  “Grateful? You want me to be grateful?” She tucked her hands in tight and told him to go do something anatomically impossible.

  Obviously that got his nuts in an uproar. “Listen, Morgan. And listen well,” he bit out. “You’re going to have a hard time trying to explain to your employer why you’re not a thief.”

  That was the least of her problems at the moment.

  “They didn’t hire Sam to play games.”

  No kidding.

  “Now, Sam made it seem as if this job was on the up-and-up, but obviously it’s not.”

  Tell me something I don’t already know.

  “The people who want their property back obviously want this all on the hush-hush. That’s why Sam didn’t bring in the police.”

  Tell me something I really don’t already know.

  “But if they have to drag in the authorities, I’m getting a real bad feeling they will. Just remember it’s not always innocent until proven guilty. So taking your anger out on me is a waste of time.”