Explosive (The Black Opals) (36 page)

T h i r t y – n i n e

J
ayce woke to a roomful of bright sunlight, a cock that hungered for Alyssa, and an empty bed. He frowned at her vacant pillow. This was not how he envisioned his morning playing out. Hell, he’d been dreaming about burying his head between her legs and lapping at her sweet little pussy until he was high on her intoxicating flavor. After last night, he needed to lose himself in her for a little while.

Grumbling beneath his breath, Jayce took his cock in his hand and gave himself two firm pulls to take the edge off.
The rest, he’d save for her, once he found her and dragged her back to bed.

He threw the covers back and slid into his dress pants, not bothering to fasten them all the way.
They’d have to have a talk about how mornings transpired once he left the Opals. Namely, she wasn’t allowed to leave the bed until he’d had her at least once.

Jayce paused at the door, what just flitted through his mind registering in full.
Leave the Opals? He frowned for all of a nanosecond, before the twinge of uncertainty faded. Yeah. Retirement was looking damned good, considering he was already disgusted with Clarke’s decision to hire Sasha Zablosky before Clarke marked Jayce as expendable. He didn’t want to stick around for the next occasion Clarke gave the go-ahead and the next Opal who didn’t have a conscious about killing an agency man.

Besides, if Jayce had walked away learning one thing yesterday, it was the realization that bombs could kill.
Not that he’d never known that. It just hadn’t stared him in the face so blatantly. If he was going to try and rebuild a life with Alyssa, he didn’t need his work cutting that future short.

Speaking of Alyssa—he had some serious desire to burn off.
He pulled open the bedroom door, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It had been a long time since he’d had a spontaneous quickie. Maybe he wouldn’t drag her all the way back up here. Fuck her hard and fast wherever he found her, then take her back to bed and spend another hour taking his time making love to her.
Mm. Yeah.

He descended the stairs, playing through possible scenarios in his head.
That kitchen countertop of hers was perfect height and just wide enough to lay her over it. If she were working in her office, he could set her on the edge of the desk. Eh—screw it. He’d go with whatever came to mind when he found her.

Jayce rounded the corner into the living room and skidded to a stop as his gaze locked on Alyssa.
Son of a bitch.
He’d found her all right. Tucked into McTavish’s embrace, her body molded against his, fast asleep with her head resting on his arm.

Fuck!
In all the possible scenarios, this one had never crossed his list of possibilities. And the sight of her laying there turned the pleasant tingle of arousal into sharp needles that jabbed all the way down his spine. He stood there for a minute, absorbing the scene, letting it sink through his naïve belief that somehow yesterday had changed things, until his gut began to twist.

Nothing had changed at all.
She’d gone to McTavish for comfort. Only this time she hadn’t just turned to McTavish, she’d left the very bed she shared with Jayce. When was he going to learn she didn’t
want
to let him in?

Disgusted with her, with himself, Jayce turned around and returned to her room.
He was going to hard-code that picture of Alyssa cuddled up with McTavish into his brain, and he wasn’t ever going to forget it. She might have said she loved him, but he’d been the fool once again, reading more into her words, only to have them belied by her actions the next time he turned around.

He’d thought, really thought…

Jayce bit back an oath as he swiped his shirt and suit jacket off the floor. God damn if she didn’t know how to cut him open and make him bleed.

He stuffed his arms into his shirt, buttoned it hastily, and jerked his gun and holster off the floor.
He was done fighting a losing battle. If Alyssa wanted McTavish, then Jayce wasn’t going to bang his head against an unmovable wall trying to convince her she didn’t. McTavish could have her; Jayce was leaving. Leaving her. Leaving this house. Leaving Boulder as soon as Jasmine said her vows tomorrow.

Taking the stairs in double-time, he made for the front door.
Done. Done.
Done.

Damn her!

Jayce slammed the front door behind him and jogged to his truck. As he jerked the door open, he felt the shameful burn of tears gather in the corner of his eyes. He blinked them back, sniffed hard to make sure they remained buried, and keyed the pickup’s engine. He hit the gas, then hit the brake, and stared at her house. Pain, sharper than all the years of wondering and wishing for her, registered behind his ribs. She’d never completely broken his heart the first time. The stabbing agony ripping through him now evidenced the destruction of what remained.

With a sad shake of his head, he gritted his teeth and reversed out of her drive.
Some battles, he supposed, just weren’t meant to be won.

* * *

Beep…beep…beep.

Alyssa’s legs clamped like a vise as the incessant noise filled her ears.
She stared across Brice’s desk, straight into the laughing eyes of Michael Barker.
C’mon, LissaLou, open up real wide for me.

If she moved, the bomb would go off.
If she didn’t move, Michael would hit her again. Already she tasted the blood in her mouth. The only reason he hadn’t knocked her out of the chair already was because Jayce held on to her ankle.

“Jayce,” she murmured.
“Jayce, he’s got a gun.”

“Alyssa.”
A hand clamped onto her shoulder. Hard. Painful fingers. Kane held her down. Not Jayce. Jayce had ninety seconds on a timer.

“Jayce.”
She twisted in the chair as Michael’s cocked his arm again.

“Alyssa!”
Brice’s voice crashed into her awareness.

Alyssa jerked upright, panting.
Frantic, she scanned her surroundings, taking in the mantle on the wall, the dark television, the couch cushion beneath her, the heavy hand on her shoulder blade. Dreaming. She’d been dreaming.

Expelling a heavy sigh, she collapsed against the back of the couch.
Brice took a seat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Easy, sweetheart. I think you gave me a black eye on that last swipe.”

“Where’s Jayce?”
For the first time Alyssa could remember, Brice’s protective embrace didn’t hold safety.

Brice released her and scooted to the edge of the couch, his glance uneasy.
“His truck’s gone.”

“Gone?”
Alyssa shot to her feet. “Are you sure?”

He huffed a hard breath.
“Yeah. I’m sure. It left right after the front door slammed and woke me up. About twenty minutes ago.” Frowning, he rose to his feet and cast an apologetic look her way. “Something tells me he wasn’t fond of waking up alone.”

Not alone—but finding her with Brice.
Alyssa grimaced inwardly. She could only imagine what he must have thought. “I’ll be back after a while.”

“Alyssa.”

Brice’s quiet voice stopped her at the foot of the stairs. She ducked her head back into the living room. “Yes?”

“I think it’s time I disappear.
I’m not going to be here when you get back.”

“Brice…”

He shook his head. “He was my best friend. I broke those rules. It’s not going to be something he just forgets. I need—”

Alyssa held up a hand, silencing him.
“Just stick around to tell him goodbye. That will matter to him. I’ll fix this. Just…stay put.” She had to fix it. There was no other choice.

Not allowing Brice further argument, she darted up the stairs and grabbed the first pair of clothes she could get her hands on—a pair of lightweight running pants and a loose green T-shirt.
Not exactly knock-em-dead material, but she wasn’t trying to impress Jayce. The time for false illusions had come and gone. She dressed, stuffed her feet into her sneakers, and dashed down the stairs again, her car keys in hand.

Please, God, let him be at
Jordan’s.

It took a little bit of navigating—she hadn’t exactly been in her best frame of mind when Jayce drove her here the first time.
But she managed to locate the bridal shop, and from there, trace her way to Jordan’s townhouse. The knot in her belly loosened by several degrees at the sight of his truck parked in the drive.

She pulled in beside it, sucked down a gulp of resolve, and exited the car.
Her legs protested the effort of walking, her muscles still tight from exertion. And her skinned knees still stung. Her heart, however, assumed a new, jerky racket with each step that led her closer to the door. She had to fix this. Had to make Jayce believe she hadn’t turned to Brice last night, that she’d only accidentally fallen asleep.

Alyssa knocked on the front door, then held her breath as footsteps sounded within.
Just as she became convinced her heart was going to bound right out of her chest, the door opened. Jordan peered out, puzzled. Her confusion cleared as she focused on Alyssa.

“Oh, Alyssa.
Come in.” A bright smile accompanied the invitation.

“Is Jayce…”
She shot a furtive glance around the front room, hoping to catch him sitting nearby.

Jordan
extended an arm toward the hall. “First door on the left.”

“Thanks.”
Alyssa bobbed an awkward nod and followed the direction Jordan indicated. Later, she wanted to sit down and talk with Jordan,
really talk
. Right now, Jayce was more important.

She stopped at his door, listening for a moment as something heavy clunked inside.
For a second, she debated knocking, then decided he might not let her in if he was as angry as she suspected. The last thing she wanted to do was have this necessary conversation with a door between them. Alyssa opened the door.

Jayce stood at his dresser, his back to her, pulling out clothes and stuffing them into a duffle bag.
He shoved one drawer; it clunked heavily into the frame. He jerked the next open with so much force one corner came off the rollers. With an oath, he set it back in place.

Definitely angry.
With good reason.

Alyssa eased the door shut behind her.
Quietly, she approached the edge of the bed. “You know,” she said softly, “You’d think one near death experience would have been enough to make me realize what was most important in my life. Sadly, I needed two.”

Jayce’s hands stilled inside the second drawer from the top.
His head snapped up like someone shoved a spear down his spine.

Gulping down a ball of cowardice, Alyssa forced herself to continue.
“As I was sitting there last night, I realized how insignificant that night ten years ago is, in the scheme of things. I’ll never forget it, but when you’re staring at what might possibly be the last ninety seconds of your life, you get a whole new perspective. And all I wanted…was you.”

Slowly, Jayce turned around.
His gaze searched hers, his frown shadowing his eyes. He shook his head. “I don’t think you know what you want, Alyssa. And I’m making this easier on all of us—I’m taking myself out of the list of options.”

Alyssa’s stomach turned over.
She dropped a hand to the covers and wrapped her fingers in the soft cotton, holding on to it to stop the violent twisting. “Jayce, I made some big mistakes. I should have come to you after the attack. But I didn’t, and I can’t undo that. But I also didn’t
go to
Brice. I ran into him one night when I was dangerously drunk.”

Jayce’s frown darkened, but he made no attempt to turn away.
She took his silence as encouragement and held his gaze, braving the truth with her eyes wide-open. “He saved me from myself that night, and I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t. I’d lost everything—you, my dreams, my family. I was hell-bent on self destruction. And I’ve never told him all this.”

A flash of bewilderment passed behind Jayce’s eyes, and his posture relaxed a fraction.
In the beat of silence that spanned between them, he moved to the bed and sat down. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he bent his head, looking at the ground.

Alyssa resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, sensing if she did so, he’d withdraw back into his shell of anger and hurt.
She blew out a short breath, wrapped her hand deeper into the covers. “As far as I know, all Brice understands is that he asked me if I’d talked to you, and I fell apart. I was so drunk the whole story about the attack came out. He’s the only person I’ve ever told, and that’s the only night I’ve ever been able to talk about it. Even Brice doesn’t understand why I can’t spill it all out to you. But it…” She looked to the window, searching for how to explain in a coherent way. “It…gets stuck. It’s like I see pictures, hear voices, and I can’t put that…into words. I know exactly what happened. But telling it is…is too much.”