“Landon’s all about seduction, no matter the form it takes,” Gunner told him. Jem had been an undercover operative for years, had been in situations where he’d had to do things for the job that weren’t to his personal bent. “When he got angry last time, he took it out on me. But he’s still denying that. Why?”
Jem raised his brows but didn’t say a word as Gunner continued. “I never believed he killed Josie. Call me a fucking idiot but—”
“Fucking idiot. What? You said to,” Jem pointed out. “What about the brother?”
Gunner stilled. “Donal?”
“Yeah. I found his name in the folder that Mike and Andy had. What’s he like?”
“The only thing I remember is seeing him walk away toward the plane. Landon had him leave when I got there. Don’t know why, never asked. At the time, I wished I was going with him. Maybe Landon was hiding something?”
“Everyone’s got something to hide. Something they’re ashamed of.”
“Even you?”
Jem gave a short laugh. “Brother, my shit’s on the table for everyone to see. I’ve got a crazy family tree, dressed with a dose of mean as shit, addiction sprinkled in for good measure. That’s the great thing about being nuts. You scare people just by being you.”
On the surface, Jem appeared to be a fun-loving good old boy without a care in the world, one who talked a good game about being crazy.
Guy was fucking nuts. Gunner had seen him take point on missions. He was a wild man, took chances no sane person would ever take—or want to. That was the true sense of crazy, that it would live right next to you and you’d never know it.
Crazy always had the element of surprise.
“You think Donal sees me as some kind of rival?”
“As good a theory as any,” Jem said.
“Mike’s been able to track him down?”
“Never. He only knew about him because he talked to someone who knew Landon’s father. Then he pulled the birth certificate.”
“I know as well as anyone what happens when a guy disappears.”
“If anyone can find him, it’s someone who knows how to bury himself. Between you and Mike . . .”
Gunner shook his head.
“Gotta face them at some point.” Jem’s voice softened. “They helped you. They don’t fucking blame you.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Fuck, Gunner, I don’t even blame my parents and they were the biggest jackasses on the planet. But yeah, I’m sure they thought about blaming you. I’m guessing they’re over it, since they’re the ones who helped us get you back. They’ve always known where you were.” Jem shook his head as Drea poked her head out from behind the curtain.
“Is it okay?” she asked, motioning to where they sat.
“Please, yes.” Gunner stood, waited for her to move closer. “How bad is it?”
“If it doesn’t infect, she’ll be okay in two weeks. Not great, but okay. She can’t do anything for herself until the cuts start to close—give it three days at the least. They were deep enough to scar, but whoever did this knew exactly where and how to cut to create maximum scarring and blood loss without hitting any internal organs or arteries.”
Gunner could only nod, his fists tightening with anger.
“She’ll be all right, but she’s in a lot of pain.”
“I heard the whole thing when it happened. I couldn’t get to her, but I had to be with her.”
Drea blanched. “I’m sorry. But she’s strong. Even so, she’ll need to talk to someone about the attack. And I mean someone besides you.”
“I hear you, Doc.”
“She needs to eat. I’ve got an IV running, but the sooner you can get food into her, the better,” Drea told him. Jem handed him the bag he’d grabbed from the diner. Pure comfort foods, and Gunner took it and left the two of them alone to sort the rest of the shit out.
He got why it might be easier to let a total stranger help her. She was more worried about his welfare than hers, and that made him want to strangle Landon in the middle of the police station and make sure it was televised.
He’d already allowed the man to lie to him about fucking with the people he’d loved.
You believed a criminal and you’re surprised that he lied to you.
“I’ll get him, Avery. If it’s the last thing I do,” he told her sleeping form quietly as he sat on the chair next to the bed.
She looked so small lying under the covers, but she wasn’t as pale as she’d been. Her bare shoulder poked out from under the sheet and he drew the covers up over it. She shifted, her eyes still closed, her hand reaching out to find his. When he took her palm in his, she tugged, wanted him next to her. He moved the covers so they’d stay between them but not pull on her bandages, and he crawled in next to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Drea had loosened her hair. It hung halfway down her back in tawny waves. Her eyes were lazy, amber, lioness eyes. She moved like one too, an easy predatory lurk that he liked to watch, and if it had been any other situation but this, Jem would’ve already hit on her.
Correction, he’d have already been sleeping with her.
“You’re going to have to stay,” he said when she started to grab her jacket. His chair was already halfway blocking the door, and his weapon was held loosely in his lap, not for her so much as anyone who tried coming in. But the effect wasn’t lost on her.
She dropped the jacket back onto the chair and her bag to the floor.
“Don’t be like that, Drea. I got you some food.”
“Oh, food in exchange for being kidnapped. Awesome. And my friends call me Drea. You can call me Andrea,” she told him.
“Guess you told me.”
“What do you expect?”
He shrugged. “I’d expect you’d want to stay with your patient and make sure she’s okay.”
“I could be across the street working on other patients and come back here in two minutes if there’s a problem.”
“You could also call the police, and I can’t chance that.”
“I thought you said you were one of the good guys.”
“We’re often misunderstood. Sometimes it’s hard to tell us apart from the bad guys.” He shrugged. “Besides, you checked out for the night, remember?”
“Give the man points for being attentive.” She sat and accepted the food and coffee he put in front of her. After a couple of bites of the turkey club, a few fries and some caffeine, she looked slightly more relaxed. “She’s going to be okay.”
“I know.”
“What happened to her?”
“Beyond the obvious? A sick bastard wants to make that guy pay for being alive.” He motioned to Gunner, who was sleeping next to Avery, a hand on her arm.
“That’s why he kept her alive,” she murmured.
“Pretty much. Look, Andrea, by this time tomorrow, your life will be back to normal and you can forget all about us. I’ll make sure the clinic gets a good donation for your time.”
He wanted to ask her why she was working at a clinic rather than a hospital, but he didn’t need to get involved any more than he already was.
“Avery’s going to need counseling. You know that, right?”
“I heard you talking to her. You sound like you’ve had some experience in this, Doc,” he drawled. He blew smoke out the open window. His weapon was held loosely on his thigh as he kept an eye out for any disturbances in the force.
“Would that matter to you?”
“Maybe.” He leaned forward. “I hope I’m not dragging up bad memories for you.”
“Really? Now you have a conscience?”
“Only a quarter of the time. Keeps my life much simpler.”
She dipped a fry in ketchup, paused before eating it. “I don’t buy that at all. I’m betting there are things that keep you up more nights than don’t.”