Exquisite Danger (4 page)

“Hello, Stewart.” My voice was so ice cold I’m surprised the air didn’t frost with my breath.

A flash of sadness filled his eyes, then he looked at Smoke. “And this is...?”

“Her old man,” Smoke growled before I could respond.

Instead of looking surprised, Stewart merely smirked then winked at Smoke. “I bet. You certainly look like a daddy.”

Baffled at what the hell Stewart meant, I cocked my head to stare at him, but Smoke sighed, shook his head, and his tension eased. He studied Stewart for a moment who shifted uneasily beneath Smoke’s dark, steady gaze. Whatever he saw in Stewart’s face didn’t make him happy, and by the anger in his expression I worried that he might break Stewart’s jaw.

Finally Smoke said, “She never figured it out, did she?”

Stewart gave shot me a remorseful look and shook his head. “No.”

“You know she loved you, right?”

“Yeah. I knew.” He looked at the ground, then back up at me with an ashamed expression twisting his handsome face. “I’m sorry I hurt her so much with my bullshit.”

“What,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, “the hell is going on?”

Princess whined at my feet. Smoke reached past me to soothe her while Stewart shook his head again. “Not out here. Come inside. I’ve got something to show you.”

We made our way into the sprawling, comfortable home Stewart had equipped with every gadget known to mankind and then some. When he’d designed this place he’d done it with my help, implying that someday we’d live here together. Even though I was glad now that our engagement—which I was sure was going to happen back in those days—never came to fruition, it still hurt to look around the house and see all the things I’d bought.

Stewart had allowed me to decorate the place when he moved in, and everything was pretty much the same. Dark leather furniture, bright throw pillows, and lots of splashes of color here and there. I didn’t know if it was because he couldn’t be bothered to redecorate, or if he purposely left it like this after I dumped his ass. Either way it depressed me that I once thought I’d live here with Stewart for the rest of my life. I focused on Smoke’s heat next to me instead of my negative thoughts and struggled to control my emotions. I’d have time to cry about it later, but right now I had to get my head on straight and remember we were here for Sarah.

Stewart led us through the cluttered space of his living room to the entrance of his laboratory situated deep in the side of the hill. I was kind of surprised that Stewart would let Smoke into his special space, but he didn’t even blink an eye as Smoke followed me in. Princess scampered past us to her bed of pillows near one of the worktables and flopped down on them with a huff. I paused by the doorway, knowing Smoke was going to be a little surprised at the sight of an area big enough to house three fighter jets. While there were no actual jets, there were missile launchers, an honest-to-God top-of-the-line Russian tank, more electronics than there could possibly be uses for, as well as racks of experimental weapons Stewart had probably designed.

My dad and Stewart’s family did a lot of business together and Stewart was an expert at rigging weapons with self-destruct devices and various levels of security so that if they ended up in the hands some idiot intent on detonating a bomb at the state capital, Stewart could destroy the device before any harm was done. See, what most people don’t understand is that arms dealers tend to have a great deal of respect for their product, at least the good ones do. And they know the destruction that could happen if the weapons were stolen, so they’d engineer them with different devices to blow anyone who fucked with them to bits without harming the weapon itself.

As predicted, Smoke’s eyes grew bigger, and bigger as he took in Stewart’s toys. His hands twitched once or twice when he found something he was particularly interested in. I’m sure to Smoke, this place was like a huge toy store. After a few moments, a small smile curved the edges of Smoke’s mouth. “Remind me to talk some business with you after the girls are safe.”

Stewart nodded then took us over to a table and turned on a super bright light surrounding a big magnifying glass. I was pretty sure the battered office chair near the wall was the same busted ass one that had been here when I left. It seemed like no one was around to remind Stewart there was a world outside his lab now that I was gone. What an incredibly depressing thought—his home was his self-made prison.

Smoke cleared his throat, and I realized I’d frozen about a dozen steps behind them, caught up in my revelation.

With a sigh Stewart motioned to me. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

We gathered behind Stewart and he picked up some kind circuit board from the table, his body brushing mine as he turned. “This is Sarah’s phone, or what remains of it. Notice anything odd?”

Smoke studied it for a moment, then sucked in a harsh breath. “Fucking hell.”

“Fucking hell what?” I tried to keep my irritation under control as I looked at the pile of circuit boards and wires spread out on the table. Smoke stood right next to me and I tried to ignore his nearness while I pretended to understand what I was seeing on the table as I leaned over to examine the bits and pieces. Right now, Smoke should have been all über alpha possessive about me standing so close to my ex-boyfriend, but instead, he was acting like Stewart wasn’t a threat. In a crazy bitch way, I was disappointed by Smoke’s lack of overprotective brooding even as I was glad that I didn’t have to deal with an angry Smoke.

I needed therapy.

Smoke moved the lighted magnifying glass over a bit so I could see and pointed at something small and shiny on the table. “That brass bit right there? Tracker.”

“And that’s just the obvious one,” Stewart picked up the sparkly purple phone case with a white rose on it. I knew right away the phone belonged to Sarah because it was her favorite color and flower. “Got another one in here that worked like a GPS tracker on a scrambled link.”

“Motherfucker,” Smoke said in a low growl.

“Indeed,” Stewart said with his typical dry humor. “Even more of a clusterfuck when I was able to trace a bunch of the phone calls to the Iron Horse clubhouses in Denver and Austin that were all transmitted to a third party. And, two of the incoming calls, one from ‘Beach’ and one from ‘Venom’ had trackers on them as well. Someone has been listening in on you, and probably for a while. Bet you’ve had some unexplained shit happening for at least a couple months, people knowing where you’d be. Shipments getting screwed up. Whoever did this knows their shit, but it’s a custom job. The guy who bugged your phones is good, but fortunately for you, I’m better.”

A wave of anger poured off of Smoke and I flinched as he snarled, “What else?”

“I’d bet there are a lot more people whose phones are being traced, so you all need to get your shit checked out. Just keep in mind that someone with access to all those phones has been tampering with them. You’ve got a turncoat, so if I were you, I’d have everything checked out by at least two people. Now let me see your phone.”

Smoke handed over his cell phone with a low growl. “I check it at least once a week.”

Stewart scrolled through several screens, tapped several times, and then quickly disassembled the phone. He spent a few tense minutes looking it over while Smoke simmered in silent fury. “You’re clean. So it would appear that whoever this was knew that you’d be paranoid about checking your phone, or they didn’t have access to it.”

We sat in silence while Stewart put Smoke’s phone back together and handed it to him. Without looking at me, Smoke gripped it tight enough I was worried it would shatter. “Gotta make some calls.”

With an uneasy glance, Stewart gestured to the door leading out of the lab to the main house. “Use the kitchen. Only room in my home not set up to block cell reception. It’s the third room on the right.”

Smoke nodded with a distracted look, and I stared after him as he left me alone with Stewart. For what felt like forever, we stood there in awkward silence, stealing glances at each other, totally uncomfortable until Stewart sighed. He took a step back and ran his hand through his hair in a way that I used to find sexy. Now it just pissed me off for some reason.

His gaze met mine, and his cocky attitude melted away, revealing the real Stewart. “So, you really like that guy?”

Feeling unexpectedly guilty and wondering why, I nodded. “I do.”

“You love him?”

I bit my lower lip, the feeling of guilt intensifying even as I berated myself for even caring about Stewart’s feelings. “I do.”

“Is he good to you?”

“In every way.”

To my surprise, Stewart smiled. It was a small, tired quirk of his lips, but it shocked me. “Then I’m happy for you, Swan.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No, no. I want you to be happy. I…shit I had it all straight in my mind how I wanted this discussion to go, but now, I can’t remember a word.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, I owe you an apology, and not just for what you think. First, I really didn’t do anything with Sarah. She arranged to have you walk in on us because she figured out my secret. I swear she didn’t touch me anymore than it was necessary to jerk my pants down and shove her hands under my shirt. I let you believe she did more than that because I was pissed at her and wanted to get back at her.”

“What?” I sagged into a chair near the table, my legs weak. “I don’t understand. Why would you hurt me like that? I didn’t deserve that, and I was feeling shitty enough as it was.”

His face turned red. “Awww, fuck. I hate admitting what a complete asshole I was, but here it goes. Swan, I’m gay. I used you so my dad would think I’m straight and get off my back about finding a girl. Turns out my dad doesn’t give a shit if I’m straight, gay, or trans as long as I’m happy. I was just an immature shit who thought the world revolved around me.”

I gaped at him, no doubt looking like a fool while my personal history rewrote itself. My breath filled my lungs in a painful rush. “What? You’re what?”

“Gay. I like guys.”

“I know what
gay
means, you shithead.” I stood up suddenly, anger filling my head. “You used me? You let me fall in love with you?”

“Oh please,” Stewart rolled his eyes. “Love? Give me a break. I could barely even touch you and you didn’t touch me. We were good friends, and I’m sorry that my actions ruined our friendship, but you never really loved me. We only kissed twice, Swan, and you acted like you were repulsed each time, so I never tried to take the charade any further than that.”

I pointed a shaking finger at him, furious at the callous way he’d used me, how he’d manipulated me. Damn it, I really believed he’d cared about me, that he found me special, that I was loveable and not a freak. Tears thickened my voice as I yelled, “Well my aversion worked out really well for you, didn’t it? You got a trophy girlfriend you didn’t have to touch, the perfect disguise for a little boy too scared to let his Father know he likes dick. You
used
me.”

His mouth opened and closed a couple times before he bowed his head in defeat. “I did, and I’m really sorry. Sarah was right. I do owe her for exposing me when she did. If she hadn’t I’d probably still be stringing you along, and I’d hate myself for it.”

“You said you loved me. You made me believe you loved me. Yeah, we didn’t make out, but you were kind to me, you said all the right things. You manipulated and lied to me.”

“I know. I’m not proud of playing you, but I did.”

I looked to the door that Smoke went through, glad he wasn’t here to witness my humiliation but wishing he was here so he could hold me, so he could take away the pain.

“At the very least, I thought you were my friend,” I said in a tone that did nothing to hide how hurt I was. “Why would you do that to me?”

“Because I was a young, self-centered, fucking prick who never considered what I was doing to you. I’ve learned some hard lessons in the past few years. I’ve been in your shoes a little bit, and it sucks. I’m trying to make it up to you by helping you find your mom and Sarah. She said you need to head to Denver, that she’d find a way to contact you once you’re there.” He tugged at his shirt, then met my gaze. “Swan, I’m worried about her. She didn’t look good.”

My head was still reeling from the bomb that had been dropped on me, but the mention of Sarah looking bad snapped my attention back to the present. “What do you mean ‘she didn’t look good’?”

“Just that she appeared run down, tired. She threw up once while we were talking so it may have been the flu, but she looked like shit. When you find her, make sure you get her to see a doctor if she’s ill. She’s not my favorite person in the world, but I hope someday you’ll both accept my apology. I don’t want anything bad happening to either of you.”

His sincere concern for my sister helped seep away some of my rage. “I’ll take care of her. You have anything else to tell me?”

“No, nothing else. Just that I really am sorry for hurting you.”

“Then we’re done here.”

“Swan…”

I ignored him and strode through the door feeling rather fragile, like my skin was made of glass and the maelstrom of emotions inside of me was threatening to shatter it. I hurt, bone-deep, and a spark of self-hatred burned inside of me that I’d blindly let him use me like that. Shit, I bought all of his smooth lies without a second thought. My trust was hard to earn, but I’d given it to him, and he’d shattered it along with my naïve heart. Stewart said he was sorry behind me again, but I pretended I didn’t hear him and went to look for Smoke. It didn’t take me long to find my man. He was flipping the fuck out on whoever he was talking to and his angry voice became louder.

“I want everyone, and I do mean everyone—even the old ladies—on brand new motherfucking burners. Tell them to go to random stores, buy their own phones and don’t let
anyone
touch them. Do you understand me? Get those useless prospects to hunt our members down and tell them, in person, that this is an order from the Master at Arms. If Swan or Sarah gets hurt because you’re too fucking slow getting the word out, you’ll pray for Beach to get to you first. You do
not
want me to have to deal with you personally. I’m in the mood to get creative with a blowtorch, Vance. And remember what I said, no one touches anyone else’s phone. Got me?”