Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3) (26 page)

Acute loneliness cracked through his heart. “Love sucks,” Zed said to the empty space at dawn. “Sucks, sucks,
sucks
hard.” He seized a wad of bedding, threw back the covers, swung his legs over the side and stalked into the bathroom. “I’ve got to start the en suite bathroom so I don’t have to keep heading down the hall to piss or shower or…but wait—I’ve been a little preoccupied…with this love shit.” He picked up one of Beck’s socks dropped in the hall and threw it. It fluttered, ineffectually, against the wall.

He missed her presence. He missed the dog, trotting by his side in the morning. He’d been the one to feed him, prepare coffee, bring it back to Beck, sit in bed with her and slowly, sensuously wake up together leaving them with hot bodies and cold coffee. “Fuck.” He shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the memories. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. My
fucking
brother.”

He hoped Beck was okay today. He hoped she’d rot in hell. 
Not true, you big dummy, and you know it. Maybe I should plead with her to reconsider.
He dropped that thought, fast.
Not begging, ever again.
He’d been humiliated enough in his lifetime.
Thank you, Lawson, you big son of a bitch.
He let out a huge sigh.

With a heavy heart, he paced to the kitchen and scooped ground coffee into the little measuring cup. It hung, poised over the coffeemaker, when the back kitchen door opened.

Beck slunk in the door, looking beautiful, hung-over and chagrined. Sidekick pushed past her and trotted toward him, tail wagging, eyes bright.

He made a quick sweep of her sexy body, dressed in a gray sweatshirt and jeans—nothing could hide her appeal—and turned away. “Hey, dog, what’s the news?” He reached down to ruffle the dog’s fur, not daring to meet Beck’s eyes.

“Are you talking to me?” she said.

He ignored her, scrubbing the dog’s coat with his fingers.

Sidekick kept the happy greeting going as long as possible, licking Zed’s hand, eagerly accepting Zed’s petting. He finally sat and woofed, prompting Zed to conduct their newly formed daily ritual.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the routine.” Zed stepped to the counter, pulled a dog biscuit from the jar Beck had brought over. He turned to the dog, still avoiding Beck, and placed it on his nose. “Okay, countdown. Five, four, three, two, go!”

The Labrador flipped his muzzle and caught the biscuit, chomping it down in two bites.

“There you go. That’s it. Okay. Good boy. Go lay down.”

Sidekick trotted to his blanket, turned in a few circles and settled down.

Zed continued with his rushed morning ritual.

“Ahem,” Beck said. “Extremely apologetic, completely contrite girlfriend over here.”

“I see you.” His lips quirked into an almost smile, then fell back to grim frown.

“With those eyes in the back of your head? Those eyes?”

“Yep.” He reached for a frying pan, set it on a burner, retrieved the egg carton from the fridge and pulled three free from their papery nests. “Those are the ones. Care for some eggs?”

“No, thank you. I think I’ll hurl if I eat eggs. I managed to keep down some dry toast this morning. Not so lucky last night.”

“I’ve got bread if you want more,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. He pulled the multi-grain bread from the refrigerator, tossing it to her before heading to the stove.

She caught it with a somewhat surprised expression, as far as he could discern through his sidelong glance. “Well, okay, then.” She pulled a piece from the colorful wrapper sporting a cartoon drawing of a big dude with his arms crossed over this chest.

Some former felon turned good guy, like Mitch, started the bakery, employing other felons who wanted to change.
Damn good bread.
Zed eyed Beck’s back as she plunked it in the toaster.  Pushed the lever down. Folded her arms and leaned against the counter. He dropped his eyes to the sizzling eggs.

“Is this how it’s going to be? Are you through with me?”

“Not sure how much you remember,” Zed said, stirring his eggs, “but I told you that depends on you. I’m not the one who decided to get hammered and flee.”

Beck’s arms dropped. “I know, I know, I know. I got scared. Your brother is…well, he’s way psycho. He unnerved me.” She threw her hands in the air, at least that’s what it looked like.

He kept his gaze to himself for the most part, directing darting glances her way.

“I’m not used to being unnerved by a guy. Have you ever seen him switch personas like that?” She snapped her fingers.

Zed scowled. “What do
you
think? Do you think that behavior just began? He’s been at war too long. Now he carries the war with him everywhere he goes.” He grabbed a pancake turner and scraped the eggs onto his plate. He dropped the pan in the sink with a clatter, stalked to the table and sat. Adding salt to the eggs, he wolfed them down, being watched by Beck the whole time.

“He…he…he asked me out, then trapped me in the hallway when I refused to acknowledge him. I’m not used to being overpowered by a guy. He scared the shit out of me.”

Fucking bastard,
Zed thought.
That fucking bastard.
He dropped his fork on the plate with a loud clatter.

“And he…he…you were right. He’s been hunting you. He admitted coming to the high school. That’s how he knew who I was…one of the ways, at least. He could have seen us anywhere.”

A cold chill marched up Zed’s back, like tiny soldiers tromping through an icy terrain. His breath caught in his throat. “Motherfucker,” he growled.

“And then he told me you made up your whole victim stance.”

“I’m nobody’s victim,” Zed said, through clenched teeth.

Her toast popped up. She grabbed it, placed it on a paper towel and took a few timid steps to where he sat.  “Is he…will you ever tell me what happened in San Francisco?  About the girl sharing? I think I sounded pretty judgmental last night but I’ve had a wild time or two.” She smiled, reached a hand out to touch his.

He stared at it, weighing the comfort against his bruised heart. When he slowly withdrew it, she winced.

“Come on, baby. What do you want from me? I apologize from every angle of my heart—top, bottom, sides, inside, outside.”

“I don’t know.” He stared at the smeared yellow yolk remaining on his plate. Took his index finger and swiped it clean, popping it in his mouth and sucking it.

“Do you want me to beg? I’ll beg.”

“Actually, that might be nice for a change.” The constricting bands around his chest lightened somewhat.

“Please, please,
please
don’t give up on me. Tell me your story and give me a chance to hear it for myself. I’m begging you to not give up on us. I’ve fallen hard for you, Zed. Harder than I’ve ever fallen in my life. I got scared. Can you blame me? Your brother is one scary ass male.”

Zed let out a long breath, looking at the ceiling.  “Yeah. This sucks. Ever since I called you last evening I’ve felt like an elephant’s been sitting on my chest getting more and more comfortable as he squeezes the life out of me. I’ve been in hell. I woke up missing you, missing Sidekick.” He swiped at his eyes. “Actually I started missing you the minute you didn’t show up at Tapt’s.”

“Missed you, too. Big time. And it’s worse than an elephant sitting on you. It’s King Kong. We’ve got to get through this, baby.”

“That’s what I want to do.” Zed finally turned to look at her resplendent eyes. “People make mistakes.”

“People do. I know I sure did.”

“I don’t blame you, though. I’d be wondering about me, too, if your brother confronted me and told me dirt about you. But I’d have given you a chance, Beck honey. I’d have listened to you first.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry. I resorted to old ways of covering up the pain. And you…” She sniffled.

Zed handed her a paper napkin from the holder in the middle of the island.

“You’re too nice to me. You actually own your mistakes. I’m…well, I’m not used to that. Most guys don’t own their shit.”

“I’m not most guys.”

“You’re not. That’s what I love about you. That’s why I fell so hard. Truce?” she said, hopefully, after patting her eyes dry.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hug?”

He considered. “Not yet. I’ve got to jet.”

Her face fell. “Where are you going? I thought we had plans today.”

His eyebrows rose, indicating what he thought of their once made plans.

She winced, as if he’d lifted his hand to hit her.

“I’m, uh, leaving, actually.”

Her gorgeous eyes widened in alarm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Last minute trip.” He stood, took his plate to the sink and washed it, setting it on the counter to dry. While in washing mode, he picked up the pan he’d practically flung into the stainless steel sink, and scrubbed it, as well, trying to get a handle on all these sensations simmering in his chest. The feeling of being suffocated by a two-ton lead weight began to abate, being replaced with lightness and warmth. Still, caution held the keys to his heart in a tight grip.

“Are you going to tell me where you’re going?”

He wanted to turn and snarl at her…something to the effect of “You’d know if you’d have given me a chance,” or “Yeah, I was going to ask you to join me until you got hammered.” Instead, he parsed out a long breath, pivoted, and said, “San Diego. I’m going to go back to California and see if I can recover my memories by re-tracing my steps.”

So many emotions flitted across her face, he couldn’t decipher them.

“You never called the doctor I told you about,” she said, flatly.

His head sliced right and left. “Actually, I called and then hung up. I called Mitch instead.”

“Right.” She drew the word out. “Good old Mitch. Does he have a medical degree?” The words hung like a fuse in the air.

He could see her temper barely held in check, as evidenced by her flushed throat and face and rapid breathing. She looked about two seconds from an H-bomb explosion. “No, and he didn’t want to suggest that. He urged me to call the psychologist, too.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “When, exactly, were you going to tell me this?”

“When do you think? I
wanted
you to come with me. My boss left a message for me late last night, probably at the time I was sobering you up. I asked him yesterday if he’d send me. He needs me to check on some plant stock down there. Seeds and other stuff. I’ve been refusing for months. But after talking to Mitch, I wanted to see if I could do a little memory recovery, get my work done, and spend some time in the warm sea with
you
.” He gave her a frosty glare. “I promise, if it doesn’t work, I’ll call the shrink. This scares me but it’s worth a shot.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this alone.” She pushed her long fiery mane over her shoulder decisively.

He shrugged.

“I’m coming, too.”

He dragged his hand through his hair. “Beck honey…I have to leave ten minutes ago. You know how long it takes to get to the airport from here. My flight’s at ten forty. At this rate, I’ll barely make it.”

Beck sprang to her feet and became instantly busy. “Okay, I’ll finish cleaning up here. You go. I’ve got to find someone to watch Sidekick. How long will we be gone?”

Zed let himself smile for the first time today. “I’m coming back tomorrow night. Red eye flight. I’ve got to keep up with my training.”

“Okay. Okay.
We’re
coming back tomorrow. That’s perfect because I have to work on Monday, as you know. I don’t care if I’ve only had an hour worth of sleep, I’ll manage. You go, I’ll deal with my dog, finish cleaning the kitchen. I’ll try to get a ticket on one of those cheap flight sites. Either that, or fly stand-by. Text me the hotel when you get to the airport. We’re doing this together, got it? No heroics until I get there. Wait for me, please, Zed.”

Zed bit his lip, still smiling. “I really love you, Beck.”

“That’s good, because I don’t know what I’d do if I blew it with you, Zed. Now go! Shoo!”

“Not so fast,” he said, his cock doing a “Thank God you two have made up,” dance of joy. “One fine hug and kiss, coming your way.”

Anxiety pumping through his veins, Zed rode the chrome and wood veneer elevator up in the three-star hotel where his brother had stayed. As luck or fate, or perhaps a cursed life would have it, he’d managed to snag a room right next to where Lawson had done his gun waving. No way in hell would he stay in the actual room.
Fuck, no.

His overnight bag deposited on the bed, he picked up the colorful plastic hotel menu resting on his pillow. His stomach had been growling for the last hour and a half.
Room service it is. A juicy burger, fries, and a Coke.
Junk food, I know, I know.
He’d been on a pretty solid diet lately training for the triathlon. Right now he wanted what he wanted.

While he waited for his food, the phone in his pocket chimed, indicating a text message.

Hey, baby. I caught the flight after yours. Lucky, huh? Just landed. How long to get to the hotel?

Take a taxi or shuttle. It’s about twenty minutes.

Heading to the shuttle zone. See you soon.

Nineteen minutes later, food consumed, mind and body restless for all sorts of reasons, good and bad, Zed opened the door to his room, propped it ajar with the security swing lock and stepped into the hall. He stared at the door next to his, his heartrate accelerating. Sweat beaded along his forehead and neck. His nerves wound to high alert, like a rattlesnake tail shaking in warning. His legs carried him back and forth in front of the door, as if propelled by their own volition.

“Zed, please.”

“Please what?” He blinked a couple times to clear his vision.
Beck?
He jerked, startled. “What are you doing? Where are we?” A vista of San Diego in the afternoon encircled him in three hundred and sixty spectacular degrees.

Beck looked scared, her face pale as the clouds overhead, her fiery hair fluttering like a flag in the wind. “Is that really you? Are you back?”

“Back from what?” His head whipped side to side, trying to orient. He pivoted in a slow circle, taking in the charming city from one direction and the breaking waves, crashing along the shore from another. A few lounge chairs were scattered here and there, along with an empty red plastic drink cup and several cigarette butts.

“You…you…you insisted we come up to the rooftop.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. You were pacing in the hall muttering when I got off the elevator. You looked like you recognized me. But you didn’t touch me except to grab my hand. I thought you had some exciting surprise. Not that this isn’t cool being up here.” She cocked her head and looked at him, the way you’d assess a mentally disturbed person.

He scanned his mind, retracing his steps since he got here.
Arrived at airport. Picked up rental car. Drove here. Bad traffic. Arrived at hotel. Checked in. Wandered out in hall. No blank spaces until then. Now I’m here.
It felt like a walk-in alien had taken the wheel of his life for a time. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. I told you this was a bad idea, baby. You need professional care.”

He waved her concerns away. “What I need is to get my memories back, pronto. Maybe this is working. Let’s see.” He reached for her hand and tugged her around the corner toward the door to the rooftop, pausing before entering the stairwell. “How do I know this place?”

“What?”

“I knew exactly where to go to exit and I apparently knew exactly where to go to get here.” He fell back against the wall and raked a hand through his hair. “Damn. This is surreal. It’s like a stranger lives inside of me.”

“That stranger’s been through a lot. Let’s see if we can get to know him,” Beck said. “I’ll follow you. Wherever you go. Start walking.”

He stepped into the concrete block stairwell, cautious, uncertain. Looked around.
Everything’s unfamiliar.

“Recognize anything?”

“Not a thing.”

They tromped down the stairs, their footfalls making hollow clangs echoing in every direction.

“We should probably wait to do this,” Zed said.

“Okay, why?”

“I’ve got an appointment with an organic grower. Their seed stock is some of the best around.”

“Okay, your call.”

Zed checked the time. “Maybe a few more minutes.” He hustled down one more flight of stairs and paused at a doorway, staring at it with trepidation.

“What?”

“I dunno.”

He seized the metal door handle, opened it and entered the hallway to a swanky bar.

“Did you have drinks there?” Beck pointed toward the bar.

“Not that I recall.”

“Nothing?”

He stroked the patch of hair beneath his lip. Spread his hand to include his cheeks, massaging ‘round and ‘round. Ran his palm over his jaw, trying to remember. “Nope. Nothing.”

“Let’s take the elevator from this level. If you came up here, maybe you took the elevator down.”

They stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid closed.

“Anything?”

“Nada.” Zed pushed the button for their room floor. He took a hesitant step into the hallway. “Except for the memories I already have, which are God awful enough, nope. Nothing.”

“Well, it can’t be forced.”

“I suppose not. What did you do with your bag?”

“I pitched it in the room as we strode past. You were a man on a mission.”

“Huh. This is so fucking disturbing.” He chuffed out a lungful of air. “Well. Do you need anything before we head to my appointment? Or do you need to rest and recover from last night?”

“Nuh uh. Not on your life. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Let’s go.”

After locking the room door, Zed led Beck to the parking garage toward the Toyota rental car. A queasy sensation rolled around in his belly, but no accompanying imagery. Frustrated, he unlocked the passenger door for Beck and held the door open for her.

“What’s it like driving a four door sedan?”

“Meh.” He shrugged. “Give me a pickup any day of the week. Now that’s a man’s vehicle.” He smirked at her, ready to let go of his memory hunt and simply enjoy her.
Like that will happen.
Clutching the wheel, he paused and said, “You okay driving? I’m, uh…I’m a liability.”

“Sure, baby.” She glanced at him, concern evident.

As they sped along the highway, Zed’s leg began to jitter up and down. He shifted in his seat. Wiped the sweat from his brow. Something familiar about the fast paced drive niggled at his brain. “It’s hot here. You hot?”

Beck pivoted to look at him, her face creased in a frown. “We’ve got the air conditioner on.”

“Huh. Turn here.”

“Where?”

“Right here. This exit. Quick.”

She swerved into the exit.

“Christ, you almost missed it.”

“I thought you said the grower’s place is in the other direction.”

“Forget what I said. Follow this road.” Zed’s agitation increased. His foot tapped the floor. His breathing bellowed in his chest.

“What now?”

“Turn here. Right here. Turn right here.”

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it.”

“Christ.” Zed raked his hair with his fingers. Tapped the floorboard some more.

“What’s going on, Zed?”

He only shook his head in response. “Christ,” he said for the third time. “Up here. Turn here.”

Beck quickly whipped to the right. She sped at a clip along the winding road, zipping past low green hills, and a tranquil, postcard perfect, manicured golf course.

Zed lifted a shaky hand to his head. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his mind flooded with certainty of having been here before. “Here. Here. Right here, Beck!” He reached for the wheel and turned it, causing the car to pitch and fishtail onto a one-lane service road, running along the side of the green.

A golfer looked up from his shot and stared at them.

“Goddamn, Zed. Let me drive!” She shoved his hand away and took control of the car once more. “Where the hell are we?”

“Not sure yet.”

They zipped along the service road, bouncing over potholes, emerging onto a two-lane road.

“Left, here! Go left!” The stress and panic inside his head threatened to consume him. His heart beat so fast he thought it would shake free from his ribcage.

Beck drove fast, making the trees and shrubs alongside the road appeared as quick blurs. She slammed on the brakes at a stop sign, sliced her head back and forth, and stepped on the gas. They ascended up a steep, windy road, only the occasional house dotting the landscape, tucked behind fortified metal fences or rock walls. As they climbed, the homes became fewer and fewer.

“Aw,
fuck,
” muttered Zed, his eyes trained ahead. “That’s it. That’s the tree. Stop the car.”

Beck pulled to the side and parked.

Zed practically leapt from the vehicle in a tuck and roll maneuver, racing toward the scarred tree. Callus tissue had formed in the jagged slices cut deep in the graying bark of the oak. He waved her to where he stood, his hands flapping like flags. “Here it is. Shit. I can’t believe I remembered how to get here.” As soon as she stood by his side, he said, “Let’s go. Down here.” He scrambled down the hillside, pushing through foliage and brush. “Shit! There’s part of my bumper.” He hefted a piece of mangled metal and barked out a laugh. “See what you can find.”

Beck joined him in the search, moving branches aside with her hands and using her foot to move piles of decaying leaves. “What’s this?’ She picked up a grimy, dirt covered piece of fabric, disturbing the hiding place of several bugs. They quickly scurried away in search of shelter.

“Let’s see.” He strode toward her and took the piece of blue linen cloth in his hands. “It looks like part of the shirt I wore. I remember turning up at the emergency room with a ripped shirt.” He frowned. “This is bizarre. How can a mind be so fragmented?”

“It’s a sophisticated system, designed to protect you and heal any way it can.” She moved away from him, her feet pushing debris, her eyes scanning the ground. “Zed?”

He heard the tremor in her voice, loud and clear. “What is it?”

“I think you might want to take a look at this. I’m not touching it.”

He strode to where she stood, looking like she might vomit. “What is it, honey?”

She pointed under a shrub, her lips curled in disgust.

His gaze drifted to where her line of site ended, to see something that looked like tiny bones. The small, fragile bones were cleaned of flesh, but lay as if muscle, skin and ligaments still bound them to one another. Using a large leaf, he gently scooped up the calcified cluster, holding it in his palm. “What the fuck? Is it the leg bone of a small animal?”

“I don’t think so.” Beck wrapped her arm around her stomach. “If I remember my anatomy, it’s a human finger.”