Explosive (The Black Opals) (20 page)

“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured quietly.
“It won’t happen again.” She cleared her throat, choked back the conflicting emotions. “Don’t judge me. I’m going to the office. I have to get my files.”

“Alyssa.”
Brice sighed. “I’m not judging you. No one is. Honey, I
understand.
But for God’s sake, if I can, don’t you think he will? He
loved
you.”

She shook her head violently.
Jayce might understand, but she couldn’t find the explanation. Couldn’t choke those words out of her throat to save her life. She’d shoved those memories so far down she couldn’t stomach the thought of reliving them. Of feeling Michael’s hands tearing her clothes, the other boys, the laughter, the complete
helplessness…

“Stop,” she whispered.
Her stomach heaved, threatening to send its meager contents all over her feet. She swallowed down the bitter taste of bile and gave one last firm shake of her head. “I’m leaving.”

As his heavy sigh resonated through the kitchen, Alyssa fled the house.
He was pushing her where she couldn’t go. And yet, she couldn’t ignore what he’d said.

For God’s sake, if I can, don’t you think he will? He
loved
you
.

Her heart kicked wildly as she let herself into her car and backed out of the drive.
Jayce didn’t love her now—how could he when she’d done everything she could to shut him out? But she owed him an explanation. The pain that flickered in his eyes when he mentioned their past. The shadows that haunted his expression as he mentioned the child they’d lost.

She owed Jayce the truth.
It was simply a matter of figuring out how to tell him. A part of her wanted to ask Brice to explain. But even as deeply as Brice knew her, as much as he knew about that terrible night, Jayce deserved more than to hear it all second-hand.

Maybe she could write it down.
It wasn’t an ideal solution, but at least Jayce would know and she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye as she recounted what they’d done to her. If she had to drag the memories forward, at least she could do so in private.

She simply wasn’t strong enough for anything else.
And that realization shamed her. She ought to be. She’d built a successful career. Done well for herself financially. Fear wasn’t part of her new normal. And yet, confiding in Jayce was a far worse terror than standing face-to-face with Michael again.

Turning into her office parking lot, she gritted her teeth in resolution.
She didn’t really have a choice. And writing words gave her more time to deal with the subject than a verbal conversation. It was the only way.

Decided, she let herself out of the car and wandered to the front door.
As she inserted her key, the door yielded and swung inward. Alyssa’s hand froze. She glanced around the building, seeing no cars on the road, no vehicles in the parking lot. Beyond the open door, the office was dark; no sound filtered out, save for the low whir of the refrigerator in the back room and the subtle hum of computer equipment.

She’d left the other day distracted and hurried.
Had she forgotten to lock the door? Surely not. But it wasn’t entirely impossible. Jayce had her so out of sorts that afternoon she could have forgotten her own name.

Cautiously, she pushed the door open far enough she could insert her hand and flip the light.
When it came on and nothing happened after another twenty or thirty seconds of standing on the stoop, Alyssa used the toe of her shoe to nudge the door the rest of the way open.

Their office spanned in front of her.
Papers scattered from her doorway across the reception area to Brice’s closed door. Three chairs in the small lobby lay sideways on the ground. The phone from the receptionist’s desk sat against Brice’s door, its handset jarred from the receiver that lay a foot away.

Her gaze jumped to her open office door as panic tightened her lungs.
She could just make out the lamp she kept on her desk, smashed now on the floor.

Stifling a scream, she raced for the safety of her car and locked herself inside.
With shaking hands, she dug through her purse until she found her cell phone. In an instant she dialed Brice.

“Hey, you,” he answered affectionately, all traces of their argument now missing.

“Brice! Someone broke in again. Everything’s broken.” Her words came out in a rush. “They’ve been here, Brice. They’ve been
here.
Oh, God, someone’s after me. I shouldn’t have argued with Bryer.”

“Whoa, slow down.
I can hardly understand you.” All sense of warmth fled from his voice, replaced by the hard edge of concern. “What happened?”

“The office.”
She took a breath, counted to three, then let it out. “They broke in again. It’s a disaster.” Fear crept forward, edging her voice into a high pitch once again. “It’s me. They want those files on Parker. What do I do? They won’t stop unless I cooperate.”

“Hey!”

Sharp and concise Brice’s brittle bark broke through her rising panic. Alyssa took another deep breath and closed her eyes as she wrestled with the frantic drum of her heart. She could do this. She hadn’t been hurt. No one was holding her hostage. She would not become hysterical.

“Come home.
I’m dialing the police on the house phone now. Come straight home, get away from there.”

Trace bits of logic filtered through her fear.
If she left, someone could think she’d made something up. Or worse, they could accuse her of having something to do with the situation. She absently shook her head. “I was here first. The cops would want me to stay. I’m a witness. Just talk to me until they get here.”

For the first time Alyssa could ever recall, Brice’s unwavering calm failed.
His voice hardened, filled with an underlying sense of urgency. And he uttered the one inescapable truth she did her damnedest every day to forget.

“Alyssa.
You know who we work for. You know what they’re capable of. I don’t care what the cops would want you to do. Get the fuck home where I know you’re safe. The detectives can come here. Drive,
now.
”

She dropped the phone, slammed her car into reverse, and gunned the gas.

T w e n t y – t h r e e

A
t eighteen, it had taken a long time for Jayce to come to terms with the fact Jordan liked boys, and a near act of God to accept that boys liked her in return. At thirty, nothing had changed. As he sat at her kitchen table, it was all he could do to choke down the lunch she’d brought home while Kane Anderson’s gaze ate her up like candy.

The open interest that reflected in
Jordan’s expression only made things worse. And Jayce had no intention of letting his baby sister get mixed up with a Black Opal. Not that Kane was inherently a bad guy—as far as Jayce was concerned, he was as stand-up as a guy could get. But he was an Opal. And that meant secrets, deception, danger, and quite possibly death. All of which Jordan was better off without.

Time to make a quick exit.

Jayce glanced at his watch. “It’s a quarter after twelve, Kane. We better get you checked into your hotel and get a move on with this security system.”

Jordan
blinked at him. “Hotel? You’re hardly here. Kane can stay here and save the expense.”

Interest sparked in Kane’s green eyes.
“Saving money’s good.”

Like hell that was going to happen.
And Kane made more than enough money that hotel expenses were like a trip to McDonald’s. Shoving his chair away from the table, Jayce shook his head. “I need my room. I’ll be here tonight.” He gathered his plate to take it to the sink. “Remember, we’re seeing a movie. Did you pick out what you wanted to watch?”

His sister made a sound that to anyone else would seem like a sigh.
But he caught the harassed tone beneath her harsh exhale. He avoided looking at her and rinsed off his plate.

“I’ll check while you’re both gone.”

As Jayce turned, he found Kane coolly regarding him. No doubt he’d picked up on Jayce’s terse attitude and hurry to separate the pair. What Jordan wanted to do on her own time was her choice, but he’d be damned if he let her get mixed up with a covert secret agent. Not on his watch, damn it.

He jerked his head toward the door.
“You ready, man?”

“Yeah,” Kane mumbled.
He unfolded his six-foot-twoish frame from the chair and reached for his plate.

Jordan
’s hand covered his. “I’ll get that. It was nice meeting you, Kane. Come back before you leave town.”

Jayce groaned inwardly.

Kane gave her a slow, lazy smile. “Might do that.” He flashed her a wink. “Depends on how much jumping Jayce has me doing.” His smile morphed into a grin as he moved to follow Jayce to the entryway.

Opening the front door, Jayce called over his shoulder, “
Jordan text me about that movie when you pick one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled.

Determined not to let her annoyance bug him, Jayce headed for his truck. She might be pissed now, but she’d get over it. And he certainly didn’t intend to lose sleep if Jordan was in a tizzy. Kane was an Opal. Opals didn’t do serious. Jordan deserved better than a one-night stand.

He eased behind the steering wheel and started the pickup as Kane let himself into the passenger’s side.
He reclined in his seat then turned his head to Jayce. “Don’t you think she’s a little old for the big brother routine?”

Jayce shot him a scowl.
“Clearly you don’t have sisters.”

“Nope.”
He tossed one ankle over a knee. “Just a piece of shit little brother with a reserved room at the pen.” Facing the windshield again, he closed his eyes. “So what gives? I’m not good enough for her?”

Tightening his hands on the wheel, Jayce beat down rising annoyance and took care to maintain a level tone.
“You’re an Opal. I know what you do for a living.”

Kane chuckled.
“Sounds a bit like the pot and the kettle argument.”

“Look,” a hard edge crept into Jayce’s voice.
“Jordan’s been through…shit before. She doesn’t need someone like you or me stumbling through her bed and disappearing with the next assignment from Clarke.”

“Had her heart broken, huh?”
Sarcasm laced Kane’s words. He abruptly sat up. “She’s a grown woman, Honeycutt. We’ve all been through shit.”

Anger flashed through Jayce.
Kane had no idea what Jordan had suffered, and he had no right to trivialize. Jayce would cut any man down who dared to consider hurting her again. Even unintentionally. He hit the brakes, jamming the truck to a stop in the middle of the residential street. Luckily no one followed behind.

He swiveled in his seat and glared at Kane.
“Look, I’m gonna say this once, and I hope to hell you listen, ’cause I like you. Keep your fucking hands off my sister, or I’ll hand you your career in a body-bag.”

“Whoa.”
Kane held up his hands, all traces of amusement vanishing from his face. “Jesus, Honeycutt, get a grip. I got the hint back there. Loud and clear. Let’s not go overboard.”

A moment of tense silence passed between them.
Kane held Jayce’s gaze, unblinking. Then Jayce backed down with a slow nod. Letting the subject of Jordan go, he eased onto the gas and resumed his trek across town. He threw a peace offering. “You can have the couch, if you want to stay with Jordan and me.”

“Nah.”
Slouching down in his seat once again, Kane made himself comfortable. “I’ll grab a room later. Head over to your friend’s. Let’s get this thing knocked out. Did you get a schematic for me?”

“Um…no.”
Truth to tell, Jayce had completely forgotten. “I got…sidetracked.”

“Sidetracked, huh?”
Another chuckle wafted from the passenger’s seat. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this than what you told me on the drive from the airport to your sister’s?”

Jayce sighed.
He’d explained to Kane only the basics, leaving out the vast majority of his involvement with Alyssa. The man was here as a favor, and his training would never let him ask Jayce directly. Just as Jayce would never ask Kane what assignment he was working on in Seattle. But Jayce had just threatened the same man who was doing a favor, and if Jayce continued with the cold attitude, he’d quickly lose Kane’s willingness to help. As much as he didn’t want to, it was time to cross a few boundaries of professionalism and give his fellow Opal some personal information.

He offered the only summary he knew that would say everything.
“I was going to marry her.”

“Aw, hell,” Kane groaned.
He cocked an eyebrow at Jayce, bemusement quirking one corner of his mouth. “If you threaten me over her, we’re going to have serious issues.”

Jayce couldn’t help it—he laughed.
“Don’t worry, she’s set me straight. She’s living with my former best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“No shit.”

Turning the corner, Jayce gave a sad shake of his head.
“It is what it is. Just…make sure she’s safe, Kane.”

“I hear you, Sandman.”
More quietly, he added, “Loud and clear.”

Silence lapsed between them.
Jayce didn’t need to say more; they shared the same bonds, and every Opal knew the feeling of losing someone. Be it through bullets, betrayal, simple duty to the job, or the necessity of keeping their lives separated from normal civilian involvements, there was always someone left behind. And in those few moments of quiet brotherhood, Jayce realized he wasn’t just riding with a fellow operative, but a friend.

Maybe the only true friend he could claim, presently.

He turned onto Alyssa’s street and squinted at her house. An unadorned white sedan sat in her driveway. A spotlight was mounted on the driver’s side near the window, and as he drove closer, he identified the strictly-numeric license plate as Boulder P.D. He pulled in beside it. What the hell had happened now?

“Is that an unmarked patrol car?” Kane asked, leaning forward to look around Jayce.

“Think so.” Jayce opened his door, trying to get a better look inside the passenger window.

Kane slid out of the pickup and slammed his door.
He asked over the roof, “Any idea why?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

As Kane rounded the front of Jayce’s pickup, he fished in his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. “Got your ID?”

A moment of panic hit Jayce as he reached for his own wallet.
His hand froze at his hip. “Shit. No. Someone took it.” And he was still wearing his gun. Damn, this wasn’t going to go over well—without his credentials, he had no license to carry. Not that his Sig was in any way concealed. Hell, it was strapped beneath his shoulder. After last night, he wasn’t taking any chances of being caught off-guard again.

He took a backward step, intent on returning his pistol to the truck, when Alyssa’s front door opened.
An officer stepped onto the porch. His step faltered in surprise, and he quickly appraised both Kane and Jayce. Eyes locked on Jayce, he cocked his head and folded his arms across his chest.

“Shit,” Jayce muttered.
Clarke was going to have his ass if he wound up in jail on a handgun violation.

“Okay,” Kane murmured beneath his breath, “I’ll do the talking.”
Lengthening his stride, he opened his wallet and flashed whatever credentials he claimed now. “Afternoon, sir. Mind closing that door?”

Brief surprise passed over the officer’s expression.
Not turning his back on Jayce and Kane, he glanced inside Alyssa’s house. His right hand crept to the firearm at his hip. “Stockton. Outside.”

What the hell did Kane have on that id?
Jayce gritted his teeth. This could go one of two ways. Easy. Or fucked. From the officer’s stern expression, and the way his fingers deftly unfastened his gun holster, Jayce was banking on fucked.

A second officer stepped outside and shut the front door.
When it was firmly closed, the first jerked his head at Jayce, his hand still glued on his pistol. “Hands in the air. My partner’s going to take that holster off you nice and easy.”

Choking down an oath, Jayce raised his palms to shoulder level.

As the younger, blond man approached Jayce, Kane cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. Special Agent Honeycutt is here on official business.” He tossed his wallet at the first officer’s feet. “Take a closer look, boys. Homeland Security.”

Hands still held in the air, Jayce remained motionless, careful to keep his expression from revealing the surprise he felt over Kane’s cover.
H-Sec? Clarke had really pulled some stops on that one. Normally they held mundane positions in the CIA, like Jayce’s current cover, and when that wasn’t an option, Clarke assigned them to the FBI. Homeland Security was a new one.

The second officer bent over, picked up Kane’s wallet, and lobbed it at his partner.
He caught it, glanced at Kane’s ID, and the faint hint of a smile touched his mouth. “You check out okay, I’ll give him back his firearm. Until then, take a seat”—he paused to look at Kane’s identification once more—“Agent Richards.”

Richards?
Jayce plugged the name into his memory. If he had to speak, he better make sure he had Kane’s cover right. As Kane eased himself down into a cross-legged position on Alyssa’s front porch, Jayce stood stock-still until the younger officer had tugged his Sig out of its holster and patted him down. When he stepped back with a curt nod, Jayce took a seat as instructed.

The first officer leaned against Alyssa’s house.
“Detectives Marston.”

Jayce frowned.
Marston.
The name rang a vague memory. He couldn’t place it, but the hair lifted at the back of his neck.

Marston inclined his head toward the younger man, who was retreating to their unmarked car, presumably to call in Kane’s identification.
“And Howell. Mind telling me your business here?”

Hell yes, Jayce minded.
His clearance knocked these two boys down to crossing-guards. He didn’t have to tell them a damned thing, except to step aside. The greater concern for what brought them to Alyssa’s house, however, kept him silent. He wanted to know what they knew, and playing hardball wasn’t any way to get answers. He wasn’t taking chances that Kane might not share the same concern and didn’t give him opportunity to answer.

“I have a personal interest in what happens to Alyssa Martin.”

Kane shot him a warning look, and Jayce allowed the remark to hang.

“Agent Honeycutt was called in to evaluate a home security system while he’s on personal leave for his sister’s wedding,” Kane explained.
“I’m along for the ride.”

Marston regarded Jayce thoughtfully.
“Honeycutt, huh? Aren’t too many Honeycutt’s around. Your sister wouldn’t be Jasmine, would she?”

Oh, shit.
David Marston—Jasmine’s boyfriend her junior year. He’d been such a prick to Jayce and Brice every time he came over that when they discovered his car parked out at Hoffman Hill and David skunk drunk at the bonfire nearby, they’d broken in and trashed his brand new stereo system. They’d topped off the effort by coating the entire car with shaving cream. Inside and out.