JACE (Lane Brothers Book 3) Page 2

  I saw something else in Trace, though, something crying out to the man in me. I won’t deny her beauty, either, because the woman is gorgeous.

  What red-blooded male wouldn’t take a look at her and not be interested with all that silky brown hair and eyes the color of frosted blue jewels. She’s gorgeous and sexy and a million other things that my young heart couldn’t ignore.

  Add to that equation the fact that she was pure and untouched and I felt like I hit the jackpot. And I did, I knew it then just as I know it now. Tracy Mayfield is my match in every way.

  So, here I sit, in my car, watching her pace her living room, and all I can think about is the fact that I made a huge mistake letting her go instead of just ensconcing her in my family home where she would have been perfectly content to wait for me to come home.

  She’s getting married.

  Goddammit, how the hell am I supposed to convince myself to stay away from her after I get her to bring her father in on this if my inner beast keeps roaring at me?

  The simple answer is that I can’t. If I’m honest here, I’d admit that it was probably too late for her or myself the minute she landed back in my neck of the woods.

  I should have seen that this obsession I have has nothing to do with getting to her father and the intel he can provide, and that it’s all about wanting another shot at the woman I’ve never forgotten.

  She’s getting married, asshole!

  The thought is in my head, playing on a loop every few seconds, and it’s all I can do not to storm back into her house and tell her that I’d kill the man she tried to marry before I’d let that happen.

  It was fine thinking that she was still free and available, that I could get another shot anytime I wanted—maybe when I finally pulled my head out of my ass.

  But now, knowing that some other dick thinks he has a shot at what’s mine…no fucking way in hell.

  “Bro, what’s up?” Jared asks, answering my call after one ring.

  “She’s engaged, man. She’s getting married.”

  Jared is my best friend, the one guy I can count on to pull me back from the edge and help me whenever the darkness that I carry around threatens to overwhelm me.

  He and Miah are SEALs and into some black ops shit that makes them practically invisible to the world. I went the same route but chose a different unit in the beginning, believing that separating myself from the men who are more my brothers than cousins would release the last anchors I had to the life I didn’t want to live.

  Two years in and I ended up there anyway after my unit took a direct hit from enemy fire and half of us made it out in body bags, or worse—injured but alive to relive the nightmare of that night.

  Jared helped me get through some of the worst shit imaginable, and while I do not suffer from PTSD, thanks to the training and psych evals, I went through a rough patch with survivor’s guilt.

  Now, after many long nights spent talking and just baring my soul to him, Jared is the only one I trust to have my back. Not that Wyatt, Miah, or Roman aren’t my brothers or anything, but Jared, the mean asshole, is my go-to in times like these when I feel that darkness start creeping up out of the box I shoved it into.

  “Jace, bro, do not do anything stupid, man. Just breathe with me and talk to me, alright?” he says slowly, almost making me smile despite that emotions coursing through me.

  “I went in and…she’s here to see that bitch Ronny and talk about wedding stuff. She’s getting married.”

  I keep saying the words but it still feels like this is some sort of sick joke or something, and that’s the worst part—I know it isn’t. I should be happy for her knowing that she moved on and didn’t hurt for too long after I dropped her, and yet all I feel is betrayal and the need to start ripping shit apart right now.

  Doesn’t she know that she’s…

  She can’t be mine, though, can she? I shouldn’t even be thinking that way because I no longer believe in that kind of love. Sure, I grew up with love and can even appreciate it in my brothers and my parents, but not for me. The things that I’ve seen were all about hate and the need to destroy.

  Show a man enough of that filth and it makes you realize that the world is a sick place and that love is too fragile to trust. I know what love is; I just don’t want it clouding my judgement.

  “Jace, stop grinding your teeth. I can hear it through the phone, dude. Okay, so…”

  I hear the clicking of keys before he lets out a low whistle and a string of curses that would blister my ears if I weren’t such a hardened ass myself.

  “Dude, this guy…” Jared breathes after a long pause and some more cursing.

  “What, man? Tell me,” I bark, gripping the steering wheel so hard, my knuckles pop.

  “Jace…this guy is squeaky fucking clean, man. He’s like the poster boy for the perfect son-in-law. Says here he’s fast-tracking his way into the political arena and has the support of Mayfield, himself. Harvard grad, a clean record, and shit, man, he even volunteers at shelters and runs marathons to raise money for charity.”

  “There’s got to be something.”

  I’m basically praying right now because it’ll be hard to justify killing an innocent man who helps the poor just to get him out of the picture. I’m okay with offing some dick who steals from the needy and uses his wealth to trample on others. I probably wouldn’t even blink at ridding the world of another crooked politician, but a good boy is so rare that I’d think twice about it.

  Shit. Goddammit. I hate the guy already and all he’s done so far is have the balls to want to marry my girl.

  “Jace.”

  “Don’t. Don’t you say it, Jared,” I warn, closing my eyes against the onslaught of the pain I felt years ago.

  “Jace, come on, bro, you have to let this go. Please. I was there when you decided that your career and the life you wanted was not one you could offer Trace. I was there when you used to sneak into her house late at night and watch her cry herself to sleep. I was there when you’d chase meaningless tail and then drink yourself to sleep after. I remember how long it took for you to finally let go, man, and I remember how hard that was for you.”

  “Shut the hell up, Jared.”

  “Nah, man, listen. I know that she was always the one, I fucking saw enough of your pain to know that she was it even when you set out to hurt her. She’s happy now, bro, so just—”

  “What, Jared? Let her go? What happens if Ronny does something to her to get back at us? What if—”

  “You’re grasping at straws here and you know it, Jace. Tracy has been pals with Veronica and Paulie for years. She’s perfectly safe and you know it. You’re just looking for excuses to justify taking her when you know it’s wrong. She’s engaged, man. Taken.”

  “She’s mine!”

  Do I know that going in and fucking up whatever she has with this guy is a bad idea? Yeah, I’m not an idiot, of course I know that I’m being a prick.

  The thing is I do not care, not one little bit.

  I’ve worked for years to keep thoughts of her out of my mind, out of this beating lump in my chest. Some days it was a struggle just to fly through DC without stopping over to see her again.

  I know that I left her hanging, that I basically broke her young heart without a thought to how it would affect her life, but I also know that whoever she’s engaged to is some rich little asshole her daddy chose for her.

  My gut is screaming at me that whoever this guy is is someone my Trace would never go for. I know this because I just so happen to be her exact brand, and I am one of a fucking kind.

  Whatever she’s fixing to do, whatever choice she’s made or allowed her folks to make for her is the wrong one, and the nice sort of guy that I am, I think I’ll make it my business to rescue her from that folly.

  “Jason. Whatever it is you’re preparing to do, get that shit right out of your head now, man,” Jared barks, making the smile that’s spreading across my face go dental in its intensity.
/>
  Oh yeah, I think I just drew a line in the sand for little Miss Mayfield, soon-to-be Mrs. Lane, and I like it. A lot.

  “Jared, remember when you had that talk with Wyatt and he told you to stay away from the innocent little Paulie Hayes?” I ask, grinning when I hear his teeth start grinding.

  Oh yeah, I remember the look on Jared’s face when his older brother told him to stay away from a woman he won’t claim but watches like a freaking hawk watches a field mouse.

  My brother looked like he was getting ready to start ripping heads off, and that’s before he admitted to me that he was as afraid of Paulie wanting him as he was of her not wanting him.

  “That’s different.”

  “Yeah? How?” I ask, narrowing my eyes when the lights in Trace’s house go off and I see her silhouette in the bedroom window.

  “Well, for starters, I never broke her heart. For another, I have absolutely no intention of claiming Paulette Hayes,” he snarls, making me chuckle silently beneath my breath.

  “Dude, you’re fighting a losing battle here. Take it from me, a man who, not even an hour ago, was flying high on the knowledge that I was going to use Trace to get to Senator Mayfield and then walk away, clean and clear.” I laugh, feeling a million times lighter.

  It’s funny what an epiphany will do for a guy, and even funnier to acknowledge that my own epiphany came on the heels of some other guy marking my territory.

  Jared curses and lets out a long sigh that makes me laugh harder.

  “Just don’t get arrested, you asshole, and for the love of God, do not take a leaf out of Wyatt’s handbook. Kidnapping is against the law and not all women are as cool as our Ellie. Oh, and FYI, no matter how invaluable you may be to Uncle Sam, fucking with a senator’s only kid is not a good idea.”

  “Like I give a good damn. You ever met Mayfield? He’s an asshole, and the only reason I didn’t beat his ass years ago was because Trace loves him.”

  “What about your big bad plan to squeeze him about the leak in the unit?” Jared growls, reminding me of what’s at stake here.

  As much as I’m focused on Trace and my plans to ruin her engagement and keep her away from Ronny, I can’t forget my mission, which is not only to expose the heads of this homegrown extremist militia that’s been planting bombs in some of our biggest cities and planning a coup of our government—if rumor is to be believed—but also to weed out the rot in some of our major military echelons.

  “I’ll get to Mayfield, and I will get what it is we need without alerting the rat inside our unit. I just need to ensure that my girl is safe before we start digging any deeper.”

  Which is the biggest problem at the moment. Being an off-the-books operative, I can’t just walk into places and start demanding answers. This stuff has to be as under the radar as possible.

  At the moment, with the leak and all the intel that’s been provided to the enemy, we probably have half the state watching us to see what move we make next.

  That also means that as deep as Roman is right now, they know that he’s not to be trusted. So far it looks like they’re just stringing him along and humoring him, something we’re counting on because it keeps them distracted enough for me, Miah, and Jared to start working other angles.

  We’re walking a dangerous path right now, trying to find the narc, infiltrate the extremist ranks, and ensure that the family who hates us isn’t about to launch another attack.

  “I don’t like the way this shit is playing out, Jace, not with Ma, Ellie, and little Al being so close to it. Make Wyatt see reason here, bro.”

  I agree with Jared that Wyatt and Pop need to take the family and go someplace safe, especially with the baby now in the mix, but my brother and father are as hardheaded as hell and refuse to leave our home while terrorists threaten our very way of life.

  Not that I blame them. If it were me and someone threatened Trace, I’d dig down and go at them with all I got while my family stayed safe behind the walls of my home.

  Thinking that way just solidifies the plans I need to make in regard to Trace and getting her home where she should have been all along, instead of under her father’s thumb all these years.

  “I don’t like any of this, either, and especially not with Tracy in town now, but we can’t run away from this, and we sure as hell can’t let them win, either. Wyatt is right, we stay and work this investigation as if it’s a routine op. Miah’s keeping the family shit on lockdown and Roman’s got his end covered. It’s up to us to find the rest and shut this crapfest down.”

  “While keeping the rest of them safe.”

  “Yeah, and our own women, too.”

  “Jace—”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Jared. We know each other too well, remember? You keep an eye on Paulie and make sure she doesn’t get herself in trouble with that crackpot Ronny, and I’ll grab Trace and find a way to start milking Senator Mayfield.”

  “Christ, fine, just don’t come crying to me this time when she rips your heart out and crushes it beneath her designer heels,” he says. “You’d deserve it and I’d hate to have to point that out to you.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Love you too, little bro. Now go home and get some sleep while you can, I hear Trace and Ronny are having lunch tomorrow, and you may want to be awake to stalk her some more,” he teases.

  “Thanks, Pot, I’ll consider your advice when you stop watching Paulie.”

  I ring off still laughing when he starts cursing and hurling insults at my head.

  That’s the thing about knowing someone as well as I know Jared, I can anticipate his every reaction. He loves Pualie, God help the poor woman, and is as incapable of admitting it to himself as he is of letting her go.

  Me, now I’m a simple guy. Once I admit my mistakes, I fix them, whether anyone else agrees or not, and I will fix this stuff with Trace.

  I just hope I won’t have to kidnap her and tie her to the bed in my room. Having your Ma puttering around downstairs just takes all the romance out of the situation, and right now I need to dig deep to find the shits so I can start wooing my girl.

  Chapter Three

  Trace

  I hardly slept a wink last night knowing that Jace was still sitting outside watching my house like the well-trained maniac he is. The reasons are simple and include lust, more lust, and the fact that I felt guilty for lying to him the way I did.

  We may not be on good terms right now, but one thing we never did was lie to each other. For some messed up reason, the thought of lying to him makes me feel like hell.

  Oh, and did I mention lust?

  Well it’s worse now that I kissed those lips again and had his taste in my mouth all damn night.

  So now I’m tired, crabby, and forcing myself to smile at Veronica and Paulette while discussing plans for an upcoming wedding that most definitely will not be taking place—ever.

  I thought I could go through with it just to placate Daddy while trying to build an investigation against him, but I know now that I can’t ever go through with it after that kiss and nearly having sex with Jace. It would feel like a betrayal and a direct insult to him and what we shared before.

  I despise the guy, and yet he still has the power to turn me on like no other man ever has. The asshole. The sexy, lying…sexy asshole.

  “Tracy, really, peach as an accent color? How terribly eighties of you, darling,” Ronny drawls, making me clench my teeth in irritation.

  Like I care about her opinion or the fact that poor Mom is still living in the eighties and loves peach. The only freaking reason I’m here at all is to give Jace and his family the impression that I’m still in with this crowd. Plus, I really like Paulie and missed the hell out of her.

  She’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and while we talk on the phone once a month, I’m glad to be here with her today, even if it kills me the way she hangs on Ronny’s every word and seems to worship the snake.

  “What can I say, Ron, Mom adores peach a
nd she’d be devastated if I didn’t agree. At least your dresses will be handcrafted by one of the leading fashion houses in the country,” I say, gritting my teeth when her bottle blond head dips and she huffs out a mournful sigh.

  Poor Paulie just smiles apologetically and starts cooing over the shoe catalogue to distract the asshole while I try not to lose every molar to my annoyance.

  Have I mentioned yet that one of the reasons I agreed to take this case in the first place was because of a rumor I heard about dear Ronny and her plans to have her cousin’s remains tested?

  I know a lot more than Jace or his brothers believe, thanks to my clout in the Bureau, and I know that those remains are not Bolton Conrad’s.

  With the Lanes tied up in an investigation of those remains, the current mission would be sidetracked, and I’d lose the advantage I now have. Which is pretty simple; with this new lead, I can quicken Daddy’s demise, or incarceration, as it may be, and free not only myself from his clutches, but my mom as well.

  That’s the only reason I didn’t just skip out and call it all quits. I want my mom free of this all so that she can finally have some semblance of a life. That’s been my motivation from the start, and one of the key factors in this investigation; I won’t leave my mother behind and watch while my father keeps her under his iron thumb.

  As Ronny and Paulie keep prattling on about shoes and the benefits of matching colors versus the newest trend of accent shoes, I take a minute to scan the sitting room and get a look at the entry points and the security.

  I am not some super ninja agent who can break a security alarm and slide into places undetected, but I am somewhat trained, and it’s engrained in me to take it all in in case I need to make a quick exit.

  Plus, I just like scoping everything out and wondering how the other Lanes afford all this luxury when I know damn good and well that their money dried up a good three years ago and none of them have worked a day in their lives.

  Parasites.

  “So Tracy, darling, how is that handsome devil Timothy?”

  I snap out of my musings and meet Ronny’s cold blue eyes with a calm I do not feel. Like I don’t know that her smug look is due to her having had an affair with Timothy last year when she came to DC with her aunt Cleo.