Explosive (The Black Opals) (29 page)

“Chill.
Christ, Honeycutt, you’d think she was your wife or something.” Kane threw back the blanket and rose from the couch. “You hungry? I told her I’d fix something.”

Drawing in a deep, tempering breath, Jayce pushed a hand through his hair.
So maybe he was being a little over the top. But Kane didn’t have a sister; he couldn’t possibly understand just what lengths Jayce would go to for Jordan’s protection. Nevertheless, he supposed he didn’t have much choice but to take Kane at his word. He exhaled hard. “Yeah. I could eat. I’m going to jump in the shower myself though.”

“Roger.”
Kane ambled into the kitchen. “I’ll start some coffee.”

With a curt nod, Jayce headed for the guest room.
He stopped at the closed bathroom door to alert Jordan that she couldn’t use up all the hot water as she was prone to doing, and rapped on the frame.

A light feminine laugh came from within.
“Did you decide to join me?”

Join her?
Jayce blinked. Twice.

T h i r t y – t w o

T
he more Alyssa’s limbs burned from exertion, the more clearly she saw her future. A dismal, bleak, and lonely life of emotional isolation waited for her if she let Jayce slip away. He was the only man she’d ever truly wanted, the only person who filled the parts of her that had always been wanting and empty. Brice had known this all along, and she’d done her best to deny the truth for the last ten years. Because she was ashamed. Because sometimes the memories still hurt like everything happened yesterday.

But to move past the pain, to heal in a permanent way, she couldn’t go on pretending she was okay.
She wasn’t okay—she’d been gang raped, she’d lost her unborn child, and the people who should have helped her through the trauma, her parents, had sent her away. There were no counselors to talk her through the nightmares, just an ineffectual aunt who thrust a Bible in Alyssa’s hands and told her to pray for forgiveness.

And Jayce.
Waiting in Chicago to begin the family they’d planned. She hadn’t known how to turn to him, knowing he would hurt as much as she did, and so she’d done what she was doing now—run. In a strange way, as much as she was protecting herself, she’d been trying to protect him too.

She sucked in air through her nose, ignored the cramping of her lungs, and pushed through the physical discomfort to round another block.

She had been living in denial, so much so she hadn’t even tried to read through self-help aids. Oh, Brice knew, but he would have been in the dark too if she hadn’t been skunk-drunk exactly eight years ago last night and found herself blubbering into his shirt the minute he asked if she’d spoken to Jayce.

Always Jayce.

No longer able to disassociate from the toll her extended run was exacting on her body, Alyssa slowed to a walk and stuffed a fist into her side to stop the cramping. She had to take a chance on him. As ugly as it might be, she had to tell Jayce everything. She had to believe in the man who had always believed in her.

If she didn’t, she’d lose him forever.

Tonight.

He had the rehearsal dinner tonight, but she’d ask him to come over after and make sure they had the house to themselves.
Brice would probably be out the door the minute she explained why she wanted the privacy.

As Alyssa walked, acceptance rolled over her shoulders and the fear of confiding in Jayce didn’t seem as daunting.
He was Jayce, the same man who, at nineteen, had grinned when she’d told him she was pregnant and told her they’d be okay. If he’d ever been scared of anything, he never let it show.

She stopped at a stop sign to wait for an oncoming car to pass.
Bending over, she allowed herself a moment to pant for air and reclaim some of her physical strength. Good lord, the treadmill at the gym was nothing compared to…how many blocks had she covered?

Glancing up, she searched for a landmark to grab her bearings.
Ivy Street and Greenfield—ten blocks away from home. She was heading north, and her house was south. Alyssa turned around, fishing inside her sports bra for her cell phone. Brice would have Jayce’s number. She’d do this now, before she could chicken out again.

She stopped to text Brice.
What’s Jayce’s number?

Beside her, the car she’d been waiting on passed.
From behind the wheel, someone waved. Alyssa did a double-take, then grinned at the same man she’d run into earlier. He must have found his friend’s house. Dell Street was two blocks to the east. She returned his wave and focused on her cell phone as it vibrated against her palm.

The sound of screeching brakes crashed into her awareness.
She jerked upright, spinning around to investigate at the same time. Before she could make a full pivot, a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm of steel banded around her waist.

Alyssa’s scream drowned against the hard press of a rough masculine palm.
She kicked out as he hefted her off her feet. Dropped her phone to claw at the arm that pinned her against a barrel chest.

Before she could wrest free, she was shoved into the back seat of a car.
The air rushed from her lungs as she landed nose-first in leather cushions. Power door locks latched with an ominous
shnick.
As she righted herself, a finger of cold hard steel pressed into her temple.

“Keep those eyes forward,” a man beside her rasped.
“Keep your mouth shut, and you’ll be just fine.”

Terror laced Alyssa’s lungs together.
She worked a swallow through her closed throat and gave a jerky nod.
Oh, God, Jayce, where are you?
Damn it—she’d dropped her phone. She couldn’t even autodial Brice to alert him.

Her heart rate skyrocketed.
The perspiration on her skin became a sheen of ice. She had to find a way out of here. Had to get free. Where were they taking her? She scanned the landscape outside for something familiar. Through a tinted window that barricaded the driver from the back seat, she made out the hazy passing of her neighborhood streets. They turned the block.

“I’m going to tell you this once.
And only once,” the man warned, his voice unnaturally low. As if he forced a deliberately different tone.

Alyssa managed a jerky nod.
She stuffed her clammy palms between her knees, fighting the urge to huddle into her body.
I will not cower.
Behind her ribs, her heart knocked like she’d just been shoved out of an airplane.
Pay attention. Keep track of where they turn.
Forcing instinctual panic down, she snatched at sense and focused on the street sign.
Right on Oakwood.

“The boss don’t like it when people get in his way.
He told me to make sure you couldn’t any more. Said I ought to get rid of you.”

A chill wafted down Alyssa’s back.
She gulped down another hard swallow and squeezed her eyes shut. How in the world could Parker have realized she’d turned over the files so soon? Was Marston linked to him somehow?
Pay attention!
She snapped her eyes back open. How Parker knew would mean nothing if she became a lifeless body in an alley.

The gun at her temple wavered as her captor chuckled.
“I ain’t fond of killing women, though. Did that once. Left a bad taste in my mouth. I figure you can be useful, and I figure you’re a smart lady—you’ll agree.”

He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond.
At her ear, the hammer clicked back, making her decision for her. All attempts at staying calm failed with the violent twisting of her belly. Terror laced icy fingers through her lungs. God, they were going to kill her now. She hadn’t had a chance to tell Jayce what he meant. Tears burned in the corners of Alyssa’s eyes. She blinked them back as Michael’s laughter rang in her ears. Crying had only pushed him to hurt her more.

“You’re going to find those files for me, Alyssa.
You’re going to convince McTavish to tell you where he put them, and you’re going to turn them over nice and agreeable-like.”

Brice?
His name scalded through her awareness. Confusion peppered her mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she blurted, then clamped her mouth closed, instantly regretting the slip. She held her breath, waited for the crack of an exploding gun.

It didn’t happen.
Silence filled the car. Instead of discharging, the gun pressed harder into the side of her head. “I said stay quiet. My finger ain’t as steady as it used to be. I’d hate for it to slip.”

She nodded again, another wave of fear sliding down her spine.
The car turned another corner. To the best of her ability, she gauged they were circling the block. Something heavy plopped in her lap, and she lowered her gaze enough to glimpse the back plastic of her cell phone.

“My man picked this up.
You call Georgie when you have what I want. Don’t fuck with me either, and don’t get the wise idea to tell that boyfriend of yours. I’ll guarantee you’ll be back here, and you won’t be getting out of the car.”

He knew about Jayce…
It had to be Marston somehow. But he’d mentioned Brice. What did he have to do with anything?

Getting out of the car.
Her mind honed in on the last of what the man had said. Did that mean they intended to let her go?

The car braked suddenly, throwing Alyssa forward into the back of the passenger’s seat.
Her captor thrust her back into place, and the gun vanished. One heavy hand held her shoulder to the rear seat. The door locks released. He reached around her, thrust open the door, then shoved her out.

She landed on the hard cement of the curb.
Pain shot through her tailbone. Her cell phone followed an instant later, lobbed carefully into the grass.

Before Alyssa could fully comprehend her freedom, the car peeled away from the curb, leaving her staring at a chrome bumper.
Tires squealed as it rounded the block and vanished.

The last ten minutes of her life exploded in vivid color.
Threatened. Now kidnapped.
Brice.
Oh, dear God, she’d come so close to losing everything!

Paralyzing fear gave way to the frantic awareness she wasn’t safe out here in the open.
Her gaze darted around her surroundings, taking in manicured lawns, clusters of trees, the empty intersection at the end of the street. What if they changed their minds? What if they came back?

She snatched up her cell phone, her imprisoned tears bursting free.
Brice. She had to call Brice. He’d come and get her…

She fumbled with the buttons, then stilled.
No.

Her hands trembling, Alyssa stared at her phone.
Not Brice. He might be mixed up with Parker. Even if he wasn’t, she
wanted
Jayce.

* * *

As Jayce finished off Kane’s impromptu omelet—he’d salvaged a chunk of cheddar cheese and lucked into a packet of cubed ham in Jordan’s refrigerator—he studied the way his sister interacted with his partner. The obvious way they maintained a distance reminded him of the way Alyssa danced around the past. Clearly something had transpired between Jordan and Kane last night, but Jayce didn’t want to consider the possibilities. Much as he hated to admit it, he was her brother, not her keeper.

Instead, he kept his thoughts linear, focusing on the number of things he needed to accomplish today.
He glanced at Jordan. “Dinner’s at seven, right?”

“Yes, and if you don’t get over to the bridal shop, Jasmine is going to have your head served on a platter as the main course.
She blew up my phone all day yesterday.”

Jayce rose and took his dishes to the sink.
“First thing on my list today.” He chugged down the last of his coffee. “Leaving right now.” He inclined his head at Kane. “Want a ride?”

Jayce would have missed the furtive glance Kane exchanged with
Jordan if he hadn’t been looking right at his partner. He resisted the urge to swear.

Kane shook his head.
“I’ll, ah, catch a ride to the hotel and pick up my rental. I want to finish up Alyssa and Brice’s house as soon as possible.”

“Yeah.
Need to talk to you about that,” Jayce grumbled. “Why don’t you meet me—” The sudden ringing of Jayce’s cell phone cut him off. He grabbed it off the counter, perplexed by the local number he didn’t recognize on the LCD. “Hello?”

“Jayce?”
Alyssa croaked through a soggy voice.

Worry thumped Jayce in the gut.
His hand tightened around the phone. “Baby doll? What’s wrong?”

The next few seconds of incomprehensible sobbing had Jayce scrambling for his keys and dismissing what had happened between Kane and Jordan.
He made a dash for the door. “Slow down, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” he asked as he struck off for his truck.

“Jayce.”
She exhaled brokenly. Took a deep breath.

“I’m here.”
Tell me, damn it.

“They…took…me.”
She managed between gasps.

“
Took
you?” Fucking bastards were going to die. All thoughts of his tux forgotten, Jayce broke into a run. “Where are you, baby doll?” He reached his truck and nearly dove behind the wheel.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“Oh, God, Jayce, I’m so scared. They had a gun. He told me if I told you—”

“Alyssa,” Jayce said firmly.
“Where are you?” He keyed the ignition. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?” As he backed out of the parking spot, fear inched through his veins. If they’d hurt her, he’d turn the entire city of Boulder upside down until he found the asshole responsible. When he did, he’d repay every bruise, every scrape in triplicate.

“Come get me,” she pleaded.

He drove, aimlessly, heading in the general direction of her house. Each mile he passed only elevated his anxiety until he threw all regard for posted speed limits and red lights aside and drove like he had an entire horde of terrorists on his tail. Somehow, he managed to translate the nonsensical sounds she made in his ear into an actual location. By the sheer good fortune of God, he managed to not get pulled over.