The Messenger (Professionals Book 3)

by Jessica Gadziala

  "Wanna join me?" he asked. "We can order in lunch in a bit."

  "You don't need to check into work?"

  "They'll be fine without me. Miller thinks I am with Bellamy. Getting wasted and eloped in Vegas or something."

  "Everyone has wild stories about him," I observed as I sat down on the other couch.

  "He's a character."

  "He sounds fun and light-hearted."

  "And you can't figure out why he would do what he does for a living."

  "Exactly."

  "Bellamy was in the military with the guys. Took some personality tests. Turned out he had, I dunno, something in him that the big guys thought they could bend and warp and use. So he turned special ops. Black ops. I think... when you are ordered to kill enough, you get desensitized to it. He had a hard time after he was brought home. Had these dark spells that he couldn't control. Until he learned that going back to his old ways-"

  "Killing people," I specified.

  "Yes. Once he started doing that, he kept that darkness at bay. Most of the time, it only comes up when he has a job."

  "Quin really has the need for someone like him on the team?"

  Kai was quiet for a moment, looking out the window at the blinding sun. "You meet a lot of people on this job," he started, voice odd, distant. "Some are innocents trapped in bad situations. Some aren't so innocent, but decent people. But all the clients almost inevitably got on the bad side of some truly despicable people. The kind who enjoy torture and rape, who get off on hurting others in new and inventive ways. The kind of people the world would be a better place without. In those jobs, instead of striking deals with devils, I think Quin would like to be a part of the greater good."

  I mulled on that for a long moment before blurting out the first thing on my mind. "I believe in the death penalty," I declared, making Kai's face turn to me, brows together. "That is an unpopular opinion in my friend group. My sister looks hurt if I so much as suggest it. And I think it is used a little too often, but sometimes, it is necessary. Some people are warped. There is no cure for that kind of sick. They don't belong on the streets among decent people. Child molesters and serial rapists, people who get off on killing. I believe they deserve the death penalty. So I get what you're saying. And blaming Bellamy would be like blaming the doctor who inserts the lethal injection in a way."

  "Just a solid piece of advice. If you ever hang out with Bellamy, don't look away from your drink."

  I smiled at that. "Got it."

  So we watched some police shows, mutually scoffing over missed leads, had lunch. While sitting in front of the TV. Kai went out for supplies, then we had our game night.

  "Damnit!" I hissed, watching as Kai's score beat mine. We were doing best out of five. And he had beaten me three of those times now.

  He got to pick dinner.

  "Go easy on me," I pleaded, pressing a hand on my stomach.

  "You had a salad for lunch. And you will eat your body weight in tacos for dinner. It's called balance."

  Because this was Kai's house, Kai's life, Kai's everything, I felt like I could do things differently; I could take a break from my life, from the limitations of it.

  "Don't worry. I will make you something healthy for breakfast," he assured me as I grumbled while he cleaned up the makings.

  I didn't know - almost as a rule - what eating so much that your waistband felt tight felt like. The genuine 'stuffed' feeling. Not even on holidays since my mom was more about the veggies than the starches. This was unexpectedly uncomfortable. I was pretty sure my button on my slacks was piercing through my skin.

  "I think I gained five pounds," I whined.

  "Don't be dramatic," Kai said, turning back from putting the leftovers in the fridge. "Three tops."

  I snorted at that, shaking my head.

  "I am going to beat you in that shooting game thing and force an obnoxious amount of greens down your throat."

  "You've never played on an Xbox before."

  "So?"

  "So, I'll wipe the floor with you, and then force you to eat a bucket a fried chicken."

  "I am going to need a whole new wardrobe after staying here for a week."

  "You eat like a bird most of the time. Your metabolism has to be set to turbo. Want some tea to take to bed?" he asked, waving a hand to the coffee pot that he hadn't used for coffee yet. I would remedy that situation. In the morning. While watching him make me breakfast.

  I'd watched him make dinner.

  That felt awkward even to admit to myself, but it was true nonetheless.

  I had sat at the island and watched him while I made myself useful by grating cheese and chopping tomatoes.

  But I did all that while watching him move around his kitchen with a sort of masculine grace.

  There was something primally sexual about a man cooking for you, nourishing you, taking care of you.

  Sexual.

  Jesus.

  Okay.

  "Do you have chamomile?" I asked, figuring something calming was certainly in order if I was suddenly thinking cooking was sexual.

  "Sure do," he agreed, flicking on the kettle as he reached up for - I kid you not - a tea caddy. "Go on and get ready for bed. I'll bring it in when it's done."

  With that, I did, getting into my usual sleeping attire of short silky sleep shorts and a matching camisole, climbing into bed, and waiting.

  I heard him moving down the hall, whistling one of the songs that had been on while he cooked - a song from one of my playlists.

  And, incredibly, I felt a rush of anticipation coursing through my system, making my pulse quicken, my skin feel tingly.

  As crazy as that was.

  "Hey," he said, moving into the doorway, my steaming mug in his hand. His voice was odd. Almost a little rough.

  "Hey." Okay. And my voice was a bit airy.

  My breathing went a bit deeper, and Kai's gaze seemed to dip. No, it didn't seem to. It did. It followed the line of my throat, over the exposed skin of my chest. As I took another breath, I could feel my nipples tightening, brushing up against the cool material of my camisole.

  Across from me, Kai's eyes closed as he drew in a deep breath, forcing his gaze to lift, to hold mine as he approached, setting the mug down on my nightstand. "Sleep tight, Jules," he said, voice soft, running his finger down the top of my nose before disappearing out of my room, closing the door on his way out.

  I barely slept, my mind and body keeping me tossing and turning all night.

  I woke up around seven after catching a few short hours, shooting out of the bed in a panic.

  Seven.

  I never slept until seven.

  I grabbed my blush pink silk robe, making a quick stop to brush my teeth and flatten my hair before moving down the hallway toward the kitchen.

  I shocked back at the sound of Kai's phone ringing, finding myself pausing as there was a second then Kai's voice.

  "What's up?"

  "You lied to me," Quin's voice broke into the apartment, making it clear Kai had put the call on speaker.

  Kai paused. "About?"

  "About where you've been. See, I can't quite buy that you were out having fun with Bellamy when I got an envelope today by courier filled with a couple hundred grand and a note saying it was Jules', minus his fee. You lied to me."

  "Technically, I lied to Miller," Kai qualified.

  "What the fuck is going on, Kai? Why was Jules missing what had to be her whole savings?"

  There was silence from Kai, forcing me to fight back the surge of discomfort as I moved out of the hall and into the kitchen.

  "It's okay, Kai," I said, voice sounding much more sure than I actually felt in the moment.

  "Is that Jules?" Quin's voice asked, sounding surprised.

  "Yeah," I affirmed, taking a deep breath, having to remind myself to stay calm as Kai came up beside me, pressing a mug of coffee into my hands.

  "You're supposed to be on vacation. Jules, talk," he demanded when I s
aid nothing, just took a sip of my coffee, not even caring that it burned my tongue.

  "It's a long story."

  "If it ends with you hiring Bellamy for something, babe, I have the time to hear it."

  So I launched into it, giving a somewhat condensed version of events, ending with coming back to Kai's for a few days without explaining about my apartment.

  "Stay there," Quin barked.

  "What? No. Quin, you don't need to come here."

  "Stay there," he demanded again, hanging up on my objections.

  "You might want to get dressed," Kai suggested. "We are about to be invaded."

  Not half an hour later, we were.

  Not just by Quin.

  Oh, no.

  Following behind him into Kai's place was Miller, Smith, Lincoln, Finn, and - believe this or not - Gunner.

  And, even more amazingly, it was Gunner who broke away from the pack, charging at me, hand raising, grabbing my chin, yanking it up a little roughly.

  "Mother fucker," he growled, eyes on my neck.

  "It's fine," I insisted, shaking my head.

  "Fine. Some bastard puts his hands around your neck, it's not fucking fine, Jules."

  There was a warm, blooming sensation in my belly. At Gunner's reaction. At everyone else's. These people who dropped everything to come see me after a traumatic event.

  I took a deep breath, meeting Gunner's hard gaze. "Well, the way I hear it, he won't be a problem anymore."

  To that, the tightening in his jaw loosened, his lips curved up slightly. "Got that straight. If Bellamy didn't handle it, I'd have done it myself."

  "We'd have all needed to get in line," Smith affirmed, coming up to angle my head down, reaching to part my hair. "Not too bad."

  Quin moved in next, shaking his head at me. "You should have come to me, Jules. This is what I do, remember? Fix things."

  "It's embarrassing," I admitted.

  "Embarrassing? This is what conmen do. And they're good at it. There was no reason to feel embarrassed that you got taken by a pro. And he was a pro. Got a hold of Bellamy before I left. He got a real name. Looked into him on the way. Got a rap sheet dating back to when he was ten years old. Violent shit at times too."

  "What was it?"

  "Hm?"

  "His name," I clarified. "What was his name?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It matters," I told him, dropping my voice so no one else could overhear. "I lived with that man. I slept with him. It'd be nice to know his actual name instead of the one he gave me."

  "Jameson Decker," he explained. "Bound to be a criminal when you're named after alcohol."

  With that, he moved away to join the others making cups of coffees. It was such a foreign site that I stood there and watched it for a moment.

  "So, you all do know how to make your own coffee," I told them with a sneer.

  "Don't get any ideas. Soon as you're ready to come back, you're making it again." That was Quin.

  "You know," Miller started, coming up toward me and Kai, but looking only at him. "On the one hand, I'm pissed that you lied to me. On the other, you were helping Jules, so I don't know if I have a right to be mad."

  "If it's any consolation, I felt guilty about it," Kai offered.

  "That helps. You," she declared, pointing then crooking her finger at me. "We need to talk."

  With that, she headed down the hall like she'd done so many times before. Maybe she had. Maybe she knew this place better than I did.

  With nothing else to do, I followed, watching as Finn caught my eye on his way out the door.

  "He's on his way to clean your apartment," Miller informed me with the kind of authority that said she was speaking from knowledge, not conjecture.

  "What?"

  "He's not so great with the words thing, but he wants to show his care. So he cleans your place. I woke up after that trip to Turkey, remember that one? I got my ass handed to me. Could barely get around. But yeah, I woke up to find he had broken into my place, and scrubbed it spotless. He was in the process of separating my laundry to do the wash when I caught him."

  "What'd you do?"

  "Let him finish, of course. I hate doing fucking laundry. And he loves it. So it was a win/win for us. I did get a lecture about my mediocre cleaning supply options. I woke up the next day to a giant delivery of gallon jugs of cleaning shit and rags and scrub brushes. I have gone through exactly a third of one of those jugs. I have seven more stashed in my basement. So, yeah, your place is going to be clean. It will be like Jameson never touched anything in there."

  "That's why I'm here," I admitted as we ended up upstairs, heading toward my bedroom. Like she somehow knew that was where I was staying, despite there being another guest room.

  "Hm?"

  "Because I feel like everything in my apartment is tainted. I didn't feel ready to go back."

  "Kai's place is like a vacation anyway. With the game room and the fourth floor." I had learned the fourth floor actually boasted an above-ground pool and hot tub. "And he cooks for you. It's a win/win/win to stay here." She paused inside the doorway to my room, looking around. "He did this himself, you know."

  "The decorating?"

  "Yeah. I mean he did the whole place, but this room is so different from all the others. It's not his style. It's..."

  "Mine," I supplied when she wouldn't.

  "Exactly. He went through catalogs and websites and paint swatches looking for the things that he knew would suit you. Because he wanted you to come stay here. I mean, I'm sure the ultimate hope was to have you in his room, in his bed. And he certainly didn't want you here because you were hurt. But he always saw you here."

  "I don't..." I paused, searching for the right words. "Understand that, I guess."

  "Because you're not like him. You're more practical. I get it. I am too. I wouldn't know how to handle his feelings either, if I were in your place. When you genuinely just didn't seem into it, I told him to back off. But... now I'm not so sure."

  "Not so sure what?"

  "That you're genuinely not into it. Into him. I was just out there, you know," she added, leaning back against the wall. "When you looked over at him, you had that moon-eyed thing he always has when he looks at you. So... what's going on? See, I figure that you haven't filled in your family yet, or they'd all be setting up camp here. So you have no one to talk to about it. Granted, I am about as good as you seem to be at handling this shit. But that's cool. We can try to suss it out together."

  "That, ah, sounds good," I admitted, sitting off the side of the bed, taking a deep breath. "I have to admit. I thought you were calling me in here to yell at me."

  "For being bad with guys? Girl, I am the last person who can lecture about that. Remember Renzo?" She asked, and I nodded. I'd met him a time or two. He'd been rough and tough, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a thick New York accent. "He ended up being some mafia enforcer. Whoops. I mean, it was good while it lasted. He could fuck like a porn star. Like with the intensity of James Deen and... you have no idea who I am talking about, do you?" she asked, watching as I shook my head. "Oh, girl. Up your porn game. Anywho, yeah, I have an enforcer, a Russian spy, and a Colombian drug dealer under my belt. Literally. So I am not going to judge you."

  "That almost makes my conman story seem tame."

  "Totally. So spill. What's going on? About Jameson? About Kai? Unload on me while Kai gives the boys details."

  "He was just... there for me."

  "Kai."

  "Yeah, Kai. I mean, he came over after the wedding. He helped me stitch my sanity back together. He hatched a plan to find Gar... Jameson. He let me unload all the feelings on him. And he.. came for me."

  "Yeah... he's Kai," she said in a way that clearly said Duh.

  "He kissed me."

  "Whaaaat?" Miller asked, mouth opening yet somehow managing to smile at the same time. "I'm going to need more details than that."

  "I had asked him why he liked me. Even though I di
dn't seem to return the feelings. And he explained how he didn't like me because I wanted him, he just liked me. And I asked if he didn't want me to like him... and yeah. We kissed."

  "And you're not like behind locked doors getting fucked seven ways to Sunday because..."

  "Because he stopped it."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because he thought I was too vulnerable, that I would regret it."

  "Oh, that idiot. I mean he's well-intentioned, but he's such an idiot."

  "That was when I went downstairs for some air... and when Gar... Jameson found me."

  "He didn't..." she trailed off, but the implication was there.

  "No. He just hit me and said some awful stuff. Then Kai came and got me."

  "He totally did the white horse thing on you. That is some serious cheesy romantic shit."

  "It kind of was."

  "And yet he still didn't make a move."

  "Well, I had like a hundred splinters in my hands that he took out. My head had a still fresh cut on the back. I had a wicked migraine. We just talked. And went to sleep."

  "So, what I am hearing here is... you have changed your mind about Kai."

  Had I?

  I guess I had.

  Maybe that wasn't even accurate.

  Maybe I had just changed my opinion on his potential as a partner.

  Now that I was ready to burn my list.

  Because there had been hints over the years that there was something there. Like when he'd rubbed my shoulders, and my body had set fire. Like how that kiss had made it feel like I never wanted to stop.

  "Yeah, I guess so."

  "You seem different here," Miller said, changing tactics.

  "Different?"

  "I don't know. You're still dressed like you, but you seem calmer, less frazzled. You don't have your shoulders jacked up and your spine all tense."

  "I played games and watched TV. And ate tacos."

  She smiled at that, seeming to understand that while for most people, those were not groundbreaking declarations, but for me, it was huge.

  "Tacos beat the hell out of garden salads, don't they?"

  "Yeah, kinda."

  "Alright, look," she said, pursing her lips for a second. "I don't think it's gonna happen."