“Good.” Alec turned on his heel, striding toward the back of his house and the attached garage. “Lock up behind me, and ward yourself and Mackenzie to hell and back.”
When his partner had gone, Jackson turned to Mackenzie. “Looks like more excitement. You have enough to worry about. I’m sorry.”
Mackenzie’s fingers tightened around a shirt she’d pulled from the bag until her knuckles turned white. “Kat’s okay, right?”
“Hell yeah. She’s fine.” He pried her fingers from the shirt. “You met her cousin, remember? He’s not going to let anything happen to her.”
“Her cousin.” Mackenzie’s eyebrows came together, but she released the shirt finally. “Derek? The one Nick has a crush on? He’s Kat’s cousin?”
“Yeah. Shit, I thought I told you.” He pulled her over to sit on the couch and lowered his arm around her shoulders. “Derek will watch out for Kat.”
“You might have told me.” Mackenzie took a breath and let it out in a tired sigh as she leaned closer. “God, I’ve learned so much in a week, my head can’t hold it all. I’m surprised I know my own—” She stopped abruptly and laughed hysterically. “Oh God, I didn’t know my own name.”
He tucked her head against his shoulder. “First, it’ll catch up with you. Later, you’ll catch up with it. You’ll see.”
She was silent for so long he started to think she’d dozed off, but finally she turned her head until her breath tickled his neck. “Thank you.”
She shouldn’t have been thanking him. “If I’d done my job in the first place, you wouldn’t have gotten snatched.”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Because if I hadn’t run away—if I’d stayed—Steven would still be alive. I don’t know how to live with that.”
Jackson cursed himself. He couldn’t very well tell her not to blame herself if he was going to sit there and do it. “All right. How about this? No blame, on anyone. It’s stupid and pointless, right?”
“Right. Stupid and pointless.” Her words were beginning to slur together. “What time is it?”
“Just after five.” He eased off the couch and picked her up. “Bed?”
“No, we need to plan.”
He shushed her as he headed down the hallway to the guest room. “Sleep until Alec gets back. Then we’ll plan.”
“Okay.” Her head dropped to his shoulder in a trusting manner that made his chest ache. “I didn’t sleep much while I was gone.”
“Me either, baby.” Jackson laid her on the bed and stretched out behind her. “I could barely even close my eyes.”
She laughed softly as she snuggled into his arms. “That didn’t stop us from staying up half the night last night.”
“More important things to do.” They had more important things to do now, as well, but Jackson couldn’t help but feel they’d be all right with whatever came…as long as they faced it together. “Now go to sleep. Alec drives like a bat out of hell. He’ll be back in no time.”
Hunger finally woke Mackenzie. The spot next to her on the bed had been empty long enough for the sheets to cool, which meant Jackson had left her to sleep longer than she’d meant to. Her stomach rumbled its annoyance as she rolled over in the strange bed and squinted through the darkness of the room at the clock on the bedside table.
Midnight. She heard the murmur of voices as she rose and padded to the bathroom. Alec and Jackson, by the timbre of the sound, though she couldn’t quite make out the individual words.
Washing her face and rebraiding her hair made her feel less groggy. She watched her reflection in the mirror as she tied off the end of the braid, and studied her neck and the prominent love bite Jackson had left the night before. She’d long ago passed the age where hickeys were amusing, but something inside her took intense pleasure in the visible proof. That same thing had purred in pleasure when she’d seen the mark of her own teeth on his throat, a blatant reminder that he was hers.
She tossed the braid over her shoulder and traced her fingers over the mark. Warmth rose in her at the memory, along with a desire she had to put out of her mind for now. Her life was in imminent, serious danger, and while the adrenaline might make the idea of sex appealing…
Living long enough to have lots and lots of it is way better.
It wasn’t until she reached to open the hallway door that Mackenzie realized there weren’t two voices coming from the other room. There were three, and one of them was a woman.
One of them was Mahalia.
Guilt paralyzed her. She froze with her fingers wrapped around the knob and her heart pounding, literally unable to twist her hand. Opening the door would mean walking out and facing Mahalia with the knowledge that Steven had died because of her.
She had no idea how long she stood there before a gentle knock on the door made her leap back, a startled cry catching in her throat.
The door cracked open and Alec stuck his head in, his expression sympathetic. “Hey. I heard you up and about. Thought I’d check on you.”
“I—” She tried to pull herself together. “I was just—”
“Yeah.” Alec came in, shut the door and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest. Though his stance looked intimidating, his eyes and voice were almost gentle. “Listen, kiddo. She’s hurting now, and nothing’s going to change that. I can’t promise she’s going to greet you with hugs and kisses. But not a damn one of us thinks you should have sat there like a damsel waiting for someone to rescue you. If you hadn’t grabbed at every chance to get the fuck out, you wouldn’t be the right kind of woman for Jackson.”
It was more than she’d heard from him for the entire length of their acquaintance. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he chuckled. “You’re amazed I know that many words, huh? Well, here’s my secret, sweetheart. When you don’t talk much, people actually listen when you open your mouth, even if it’s only because they’re shocked.” He winked, pulled open the door and gestured to her.
I can do this. She squared her shoulders and nodded once before stepping through the door. “Thanks, Alec.”
He answered her with a smile before following her into the hallway, effectively cutting off her path of retreat. “You can do it,” he murmured, his voice echoing her thought.
Walking into the kitchen to face Mahalia was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
Mahalia sat on a stool at the island, her elbows on the counter. Jackson stood on the other side, a dish towel thrown over one shoulder, chopping vegetables. He gestured to the spot next to his mentor. “Kenzie. Have a seat. We were just talking.”
Mackenzie hesitated, but Alec’s presence at her back made it impossible to do anything but move forward into the kitchen. “Hello, Mahalia.”
The older woman kept her head down and her eyes on the coffee mug in her hands. “Mackenzie.”
Jackson opened a cabinet next to the range hood. “Are you hiding any more spices in here, Alec? Something besides salt and pepper?” His tone was determinedly casual.
“There’s steak rub in there.” Alec’s voice came from directly behind her, and Mackenzie felt his hand on her shoulder. He nudged her toward the stool and walked past her. “I don’t cook much, Jackson.”
“I was hoping against hope.” He glanced at Mackenzie as she slid onto the stool. “Tell me you like cream sauces.”
“Anything’s fine. I’m pretty hungry.” The tension in the kitchen made her fidget uncomfortably, but she had no idea how to break it.
Mahalia stared at the row of cabinets. She said nothing, but her hand inched slowly across the counter. She wrapped her fingers around Mackenzie’s and squeezed.
A lump formed in Mackenzie’s throat as she turned her hand over and clutched at Mahalia’s. She knew she shouldn’t speak, but the words tumbled out in a hoarse whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
Mahalia’s teeth sank into her full lower lip, and she shook her head.