Explosive (The Black Opals) (34 page)

Jayce let out a dry laugh. “I’m afraid the answer is no. But you can feel free to take a seat. I have a few questions for you.”

The man’s gaze narrowed.
“Your curiosity is the problem.” He fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. With a flick of his wrist, he lobbed it open to flash some sort of identification. Jayce couldn’t make out the details from his distance.

“Counter Intelligence Agency.
We want to talk to you.” Toledo stuffed his wallet into his jeans again, and turned the wrist that held his gun. A move that would have otherwise drawn attention to his weapon, if Jayce hadn’t been immersed in them for a decade. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“Jayce,” Alyssa hissed through clenched teeth.

He squeezed her ankle then stood, hands splayed wide at his sides. “Put that way…” Shrugging, he rounded the corner. He hated the flash of fear that shone in Alyssa’s eyes, but he couldn’t hint to her what he intended without revealing himself to this guy. Nothing said those credentials were legit. Anyone could get their hands on a false set of cards.

With an encouraging nod,
Toledo tucked his gun into a holster at the small of his back. He motioned for Jayce to follow him out the door.

“Jayce!”

Alyssa’s sharp cry stopped Jayce at the corner of the desk.

“He’s part of it!
I saw him right before they kidnapped me! He drove by in a grey car.”

Grey car?
Jayce slowly swung his attention back to the guy. The asshole who’d shot at him drove a grey car. Now it all made sense. They knew when she was home, when she wasn’t, and where to find her, because this asshole was watching her. Everything inside Jayce ground to a halt. Government agents did not take pot shots at fellow agents’ heads. Nor did they screw up their research so badly that they failed to overlook their own guys.

Toledo
must have sensed Jayce’s blaring alarms. He hastily reached behind his back, no doubt going for his gun once more.

Jayce moved faster.
He had his Sig in-hand before Toledo could pull his free. He trained it on the younger man’s face. “I don’t think so. Put your back to that wall.”

“You don’t want to do this, Honeycutt,”
Toledo said with surprising calm, even as he followed Jayce’s directive.

“Who the hell are you?” Jayce advanced a few steps, making sure the guy couldn’t make a dash for the door.
Fuck, he was wasting precious time. And this damn sure wasn’t helping Alyssa’s state of mind. He chanced a glance at her, groaning inwardly at the sight of her ghost-white complexion. He had to get her off that bomb. That timer was pushing thirty minutes remaining, and he had barely untangled the net of wires.

“I told you.
CIA.” A superior smirk crossed Toledo’s mouth. “And your position in Sec Ops is in fragile circumstances right now.”

Sec Ops?
This asshole had kiped his ID? What the fuck? Jayce glared down the length of his extended arm. “Wrong. Start talking, or I’m going to start taking off fingers.”

A moment of indecision passed over the younger man’s face.
Insecurity Jayce remembered all too well as a new hire. Maybe he’d pegged this guy wrong. Maybe he was government, just too wet behind the ears to recognize his own mistakes.
Or too cocky.

“I want your operational division’s number,” Jayce demanded.

At that, Toledo laughed softly. “Seventy-two. Good luck confirming it. You, however, are twenty-eight, Special Security Operations, grade thirteen pay level, three years seniority. You report to Jonas Abrams.”

Jayce stared, fury slowly creeping down his spine and mingling with a heavy sense of foreboding.
Seventy-two—Black Opal division. Who the hell was this guy, and how had he stumbled across the code for the Opals? If that had leaked, Clarke had a major problem on his hands.

Toledo
shrugged. “Call it in.”

Moreover, if he knew enough about Jayce’s false credentials, why hadn’t someone set him straight?

The sound of a roaring engine blared through Jayce’s awareness. A car pulled into the lot, headlights off. A moment later, two car doors slammed. Two sets of boots pounded up the walk.

Kane and McTavish bounded inside, both skidding to a halt as they reached McTavish’s office doorway.

“Shit,” Kane muttered. “Brice said she sounded worried. Now I see why.”

Jayce instructed them to enter with a jerk of his head.
“Not the half of it. Call Clarke.”

“What?” both
Toledo and Kane asked in unison.

“
Toledo here says he’s division seventy-two. You ever heard of him, Kane?”

Kane shook his head as he tugged out his cell.
“Can’t say I have.”

“Me neither.”
Jayce lowered his gun, satisfied Toledo wasn’t going anywhere, surrounded like he was. “I want to know who the fuck he is and what he wants with Alyssa.”

“He’s not after Alyssa,” McTavish spoke quietly.
“He wants me.”

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Kane motioned for quiet.
He quickly snapped it shut, and scowled at Toledo instead. A Black Opal—this guy had barked up the wrong tree. And if he found out this jerk had anything to do with that bomb, he’d tear him to pieces.

“Hey, boss.
Got a situation here,” Kane greeted Clarke.

Jayce snatched the phone out of Kane’s hands.
Having uncovered the bomb enough to confidently ascertain it couldn’t be tripped wirelessly, he returned to Alyssa’s side and set a hand on her shoulder. When she looked up, tears reflected in her eyes. Her silence was explained by the furious way she gnawed on her lower lip. Christ, she was falling apart by the second.

“It’s me,” he barked into the cell.
“I’m putting you on speaker. I need some public answers.” Hitting the button, he set the phone on top of McTavish’s desk, directly in front of Alyssa. Then, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Hang in there, baby doll. You’re okay. I promise.”

She nodded, but the way her throat worked with her swallow, signaled her distress.
He needed answers and he needed them fast. Before she did something like faint. If Toledo were responsible for the bomb, Jayce didn’t dare dismiss him as completely insignificant. Even better, he might know the damned code to turn the counter off.

“What’s on your mind, Jayce?”

“I’ve got a guy here claiming to work for you. Calls himself Toledo. Right about now, he looks scared as hell. You care to give me the go-ahead and impress upon him just what he
doesn’t
know?”

A heavy beat of silence came through the phone that had Jayce exchanging puzzled glances with Kane.
Why wasn’t Clarke denouncing this guy?

“No,”
Clarke finally answered.

“No?” Jayce asked, incredulous.
“What the hell do you mean,
no?
The woman I love is sitting on a goddamn bomb, and I’ve got every reason to suspect this asshole put it there. I want to know who the fuck he is, and what he wants with her.”

“Bomb?” Kane asked.

“Shit!” McTavish swore.

Toledo
lurched off the wall. “I didn’t put a fucking bomb in here!”

Kane pushed
Toledo back into place. “Yeah, well, the good news is Sandman here can fix that. You, buddy, are in a world of hurt.”

Toledo
’s gaze snapped back to Jayce, then drifted to Kane, only to land once more on Jayce. His eyes widened slightly, and a look of profound regret crossed his expression.

“Are you three finished yet?”
Clarke asked. “What do you mean a bomb, Jayce?”

“I mean she’s wired to the damned chair!”
Jayce took a breath, held it for a count of ten. Losing his temper again wouldn’t help keep Alyssa calm. “Why aren’t you denouncing this guy, Clarke?”

“His name’s
Jackson. You fix what you need to fix, then get the hell out of his assignment. I can’t have you, or Anderson, in his way. I’m sorry, Jayce, but he has full clearance to do whatever necessary to bring in what I need, and I’ll make the sacrifice if necessary.” Clarke hung up with a decisive
click
.

Holy shit.
Jayce blinked at the phone. Sacrifice—he and Kane were expendable.

Before Jayce could fully process
Clarke’s revelation, Jackson pushed off the wall and approached the desk. “You’re Sandman?”

With a shake of his head, Jayce cleared away his shock.

“Jayce, get me off this chair,” Alyssa pleaded, her voice brittle. “Figure it all out later,
please.
”

“I didn’t know, Jayce,”
Jackson offered apologetically. “No one told me your real name.”

Kane clapped a hand on
Jackson’s shoulder and drew him away. “Come on, leave him alone to do his job.”

“Go far away.
In case…” Alyssa stopped short, shook her head. “Protect yourselves.”

“Fuck that,” McTavish muttered as he jerked out of Kane’s grasp.
“It’s my fucking fault. I’m not leaving you, Alyssa.” He took two steps toward the desk.

Jayce glowered at McTavish.
Like hell he was staying. Beyond the fact Jayce didn’t need the additional distraction, he didn’t want Alyssa anywhere near him. Yet before he could warn McTavish off, Kane interceded.

He caught McTavish by the back of his shirt.
“Never met a bomb that Jayce couldn’t handle. We’ll wait in the lobby.” As he spoke, he hauled McTavish out the door.

“How can I help?”

The younger operative’s offer snapped Jayce’s focus back to the ticking bomb. He pushed a hand through his hair, pressed a kiss to the top of Alyssa’s head, then sank to the floor again. “I need wire cutters. A screwdriver. And something sticky. Chewing gum will work just fine.”

As he reached for the convoluted wire and stepped through which leads he’d already identified, the full measure of everything settled over him like a thick, suffocating fog.
Alyssa’s life was ticking away. He’d just been thrown under a bus by his boss. And his one lead on who was responsible for all this turned out to be another Opal.

Just how fucked up could one day become?

T h i r t y – s e v e n

“J
ayce, I’m scared.” There, she’d said it—and it didn’t change a thing. It didn’t stop the rapid tapdance of her heart, it didn’t make her palms any less clammy. But the sound of her voice, calmed Alyssa.

Her chair jostled as he worked beneath her.
“I know, baby doll.”

“What if—”

“No what ifs.” Her chair bumped again. “Damn this thing.”

“That’s not helping.”
She ran her hands down her jeans to dry them off again. “If you can’t disarm that, will you kiss me again? I don’t want to die without one more kiss.”

“Alyssa, that’s not going to happen.”

For a moment, his fingers wrapped around her ankle, and that moment was the most priceless instant of her life. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and absorbed the warmth of his touch until it filled all the cold, empty places inside her.

“I won’t let it happen.”

She nodded, though he couldn’t see her, and lapsed into silence, focusing on the conversation that had occurred a short while ago between the three operatives, instead of the dynamite attached to her chair. If Jackson wasn’t associated with Parker, then who had kidnapped her? Why was he constantly crossing her path?

“Because McTavish has something he wants.
We’ll figure it out when I finish with this thing.”

She chuckled hesitantly.
“I didn’t realize I said that.”

“You’ve been talking to yourself for the better part of the last half-hour, sweetheart.”
He touched her ankle again, subtle reassurance that vanished all too fast. “It’s okay, I get it. And you’re keeping me distracted in a good way.”

“Is Jackson who shot at you?”

“Pretty sure.” This time, her chair jerked sideways. Jayce swore again.

Once more her heart skipped several beats.
She closed her eyes, focused on her center. Sitting still had never been such a difficult chore.

When her pulse leveled into the normal, accelerated pace it had adapted, she opened her eyes and peered sideways over her chair.
“Um. Are you…getting anywhere?”

“Yeah.”
His voice sounded strained, like he’d clenched his teeth. “It’s stuffed inside the seat so far…Hang on.”

She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, unaware she was holding her breath until her lungs began to protest.
Alyssa forced herself to breathe and ignored the way Jayce’s hands bumped beneath her butt. In a strange, surreal way, if she made it out of here alive, she’d treasure this night a lifetime. Sitting here like this, putting her faith in him unhesitatingly, erased the years of distance between them. The idea of telling him what happened the night of her attack no longer felt insurmountable. This was the bond they’d needed. She only wished it hadn’t been quite so…final in its possible outcomes.

Against her will, a heartfelt confession slipped free.
“I want to go home and fall asleep in your arms,” she whispered.

Whatever Jayce might have said was lost with the opening of the door.
Kane walked in and pulled up the chair across from the desk. He sat down and reached across the blotter for Alyssa’s hand. “You need anything, Jayce?”

Glad for the support, Alyssa slid her hand into his.
Strong fingers squeezed a bit too hard, but she wasn’t about to complain. That he was confident enough in Jayce’s abilities to stay in the same building made it easier to find faith in the positive. That he was right in front of her made it easier to focus.

“Ten more minutes,” Jayce grumbled.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Alyssa forced a soft laugh.

“No, but this timer isn’t gaining time.
If this son of a bitch doesn’t give up it’s pearl…” Jayce trailed off with another sharp oath.

Not gaining time.
Had he made any progress at all? What was taking him so damned long anyway?

Her chair jostled like she’d just rolled over a speed bump.
With her free hand, Alyssa clutched the arm in a death grip, afraid he’d fatally dislodge her. A gasp slipped free, and she couldn’t stop a muffled whimper.

“Easy,” Kane murmured.
“You’re in the best hands in the business.” He bent his head as if he tried to see around the desk. “What’s the situation down there, Sandman?”

“Why do they call you Sandman?” Alyssa asked.

Kane winked at her. “Because he puts bombs to sleep.”

“I can’t…” Her chair jumped again.
“Get to the damned detcaps without shifting the pressure plate.” She jostled sideways. “I’m having to rip the seat apart.”

Alyssa peered at Kane.
“What’s a detcap?”

He grinned.
“The part that makes it go boom.”

Her gaze stole sideways once more, locking onto the glimpse of Jayce’s leg that poked from beneath her chair.
“And just how long does that timer say I have?” she asked cautiously.

“Let’s not go there, shall we?” Jayce muttered.

Ice cold fear snaked down her spine. If he didn’t want to talk about it, the timer must be close. More ripping and tearing ensued.

“Let’s go there.”
Alyssa gripped Kane’s hand tight. More emphatically, she insisted, “I want to know.”

“Ninety seconds.”

Oh God.
The room tilted sideways. She clamped her teeth into her lower lip until the taste of blood made the buzzing in her ears fade. A thousand and one things she wanted to say burst through her mind. That she was sorry. That she would never stop loving him. That she still thought about the child they’d lost—everything clanged together in a deafening cacophony. But she forced herself to stay quiet, to let Jayce concentrate.

“Alyssa.”
His voice cut sharply through the room.

“Yes?”

“Push down as hard as you can against the seat. Kane, help her.”

Kane lurched over the desk, his large hands coming down on her shoulders.
She let out a squeak as her joints protested his heavy weight. Good grief, was he trying to squash her? Quietly, she whispered, “Ouch.”

She braced for the hard jolt beneath her that Jayce’s instruction promised.
But to her surprise, nothing happened. She didn’t move, didn’t tilt, didn’t so much as feel a bump from his hands. It was as if Jayce had gone absolutely still beneath her. Which only heightened her increasing apprehension.

A
snick
resonated like the firing of a shotgun. The faint beeping silenced. But still, nothing happened beneath her.

“You got that gum?” Jayce asked quietly.

His hands still glued on her shoulders, Kane bent his head and spit a pink wad onto the desktop, leaving Alyssa to hand it to Jayce. She wrinkled her nose, but pried her fingers loose from the chair’s arm. What was a little saliva when it came to survival?

She dropped it into Jayce’s open palm.

His hand vanished beneath the chair.

Time moved in slow motion.
Forty-five seconds passed. She cast her gaze to the ceiling, praying for all her might that Jayce would announce success.

Sixty.
“Jayce, I—”

“Shh,” Kane murmured.
“Let him finish.”

I love you.
The confession screamed through her head.

Eighty-five.

Ninety-two seconds passed.

Nothing happened.

Alyssa looked to Kane, questioning him with lifted brows.

“He got the timer,” he whispered.

Oh. Well, it would have been helpful to know that detail. Not that it changed anything. She expelled her pent up tension with a heavy, prolonged sigh.

“Kane, on three, haul her over that desk like you mean it.
One.”

“Jayce, wait!” Alyssa protested.
If this was it, if there was any chance she wasn’t coming out of this alive, she wanted to see Jayce’s face one last time.

“Two.”

“Wait!” she almost screamed. In a strange ironic twist, she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to risk that finality. What if he hadn’t disconnected everything? Couldn’t he take more time to be certain?

God, she just needed to see him once more.
A few seconds to last for eternity. Her voice near the point of breaking, she demanded, “Kiss me.”

“I will in a second.
Three.”

“No, wait! I’m not—”

Kane threw himself backward, dragging her over the desk. Her protest died off into a startled squeak. As she cleared the wide surface, her knees clunked against the edge. But the prick of pain faded into a far larger ache as she hit the ground, and Kane’s weight came crashing into her as he rolled her beneath him. Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to move, to breathe. Seconds ticked by.

“I said haul her over the desk, not suffocate her,” Jayce grumbled from somewhere above her.

Alyssa opened one eye, then the other, only to find herself staring into the shoulder of Kane’s navy T-shirt. Her lungs expanded as he pushed himself to his hands, then eased the rest of his body off hers.

Alive.

She was alive. Lifting her gaze, she stared up at Jayce.
Alive.
Repressed fear and overwhelming gratitude sent tears coursing down her cheeks. She hadn’t died, could still fix everything that she’d nearly lost. She reached for Jayce, fumbled for a grip when his fingers met hers.

Then he was on the ground beside her, scooping her into his arms, murmuring reassurances at her ear.
He was shaking as badly as she was, and those tremors only made her cling to him more tightly. His telltale sniff, had her pulling away to gently clasp his face between her hands. The fine sheen of moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes told her more than words could ever convey.

Alyssa cupped his cheek in her hand.
Her gaze searched his. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “So afraid I’d lose you.” Driven by the desperate need to erase the last hour from her memory, she pressed her lips to his.

Jayce’s mouth clasped hers softly.
“Never.” He nudged her lips apart, and the tip of his tongue touched hers.

When she met that inquisitive stroke, Jayce’s hands tightened in her hair, and his kiss became more urgent.
She tasted the fear he masked so well, the worry he had covered with a casual tone of voice. She’d never believed he was capable of being afraid. And yet, it seemed his constant strength had a breaking point. Now it was her turn to ground him, to be his rock.

She eased the kiss to a lingering close and rubbed the tip of her nose against his.
Her exhale shuddered between them. “I do love you.”

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply.
The trembling in his arms lessened, and he crushed her close, one hand sliding free to stroke the length of her back. “I love you too, Alyssa.”

“Can we go home?”
Away from this to mend all the bridges between them. They’d have to deal with the authorities eventually, but for right now, she wanted Jayce, and Jayce alone.

He shook his head.
“We need to talk to Jackson. There’s still someone out there hunting you.”

Compared to what she’d just been through, the recent threats, including her kidnapping seemed like a trip through a haunted house.
But though she was more than willing to focus on those issues in the morning, she understood Jayce couldn’t find peace until they had eradicated any possible danger waiting for her. Nodding, she let him help her to her feet.

With one hand tucked securely around hers, he led her into the front room where Kane, Jackson, and Brice waited.
Brice jumped to his feet, the lines of anxiety plain on his face. He’d worried too. And for an instant, she suspected she knew a little of how Jordan felt. Brice was part of this, but it wasn’t
his fault.
Someone else did this to her, not him.

As he took a step toward her, one hand reaching for hers, she gave him a reassuring smile.
“I’m okay.”

Brice drew back and forked his fingers through his hair.
“Damn it, Alyssa, I’m so sorry. I never meant for you to get mixed up in this.”

“I know.”
In a thousand years he’d never hurt her deliberately. She clasped his hand, squeezed it gently, then let go, adding, “It’s okay.”

Jayce grunted.
“No. It’s not okay.” He turned a thumb between Brice and Jackson. “What the hell is going on? Who kidnapped her? And why the hell did you shoot at me?”

Dejection slumped Brice’s shoulders as he sank into his chair again.
Jackson mirrored his posture, his earlier arrogance having disappeared. But it was Jackson who spoke first, while Brice merely buried his face in one hand.

“I can’t tell you everything.”

Jayce nodded.

“I found your credentials and called them in.
Clarke didn’t tell me you were one of us. He didn’t tell me anything, except to recover a file Delfranco gave Brice.”