4-Bound By Danger (19 page)

“There are people who want to hurt me by taking anyone who’s important to me.”

“I know—that’s the most effective way to take a spook down.” Special forces operators lived by a similar code, much less secreted than Delta, and pictures of SEALs were never published, let alone names.

“I’ve never had to worry about that.”

“I guess it depends on what you want. If you’re happy with the way things were when you weren’t attached.”

“I wouldn’t be happy letting go of Jace,” Clint admitted.

“Then don’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jace had shitty dreams throughout the night, but Clint had woken him each and every time. Held him. Talked him down.

“Suppose you weren’t here?”

“But I am. Always will be, in one form or another.”

For the first time since Clint had proposed it, Jace was taking Clint’s offer of retirement very seriously. Very seriously. But there was still the whole business with Kenny and the threats the Feds made to him.

He’d begun to suspect that his handler asked him the questions about Tomcat because they suspected a relationship of some kind, either before Tomcat’s “death” or afterward when they’d realized he was an agent.

A lot of speculation for sure, but what if the Feds ever got wind of the fact that Jace was with a CIA agent? When he felt trapped with no way out, bad shit happened.

Don’t go there
, he warned himself. He already had one set of scars from before he went into the Navy—these new ones just added another layer.

He ran his hands through his hair and thought about joining Clint in the shower when his phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he picked it up because it might’ve been an MC person, or it could just be some asshole who had a wrong number.

“Hey Jace, it’s Jack. I’m Clint’s friend.”

As he listened, he realized it was some asshole, but he didn’t have the wrong number at all.

When Clint got out of the shower, Jace was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He glanced over and asked, “Who’s Jack?”

Well, hello, left field. “He’s just someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“You slept with him.”

“Yes.”

Jace nodded, as if somehow pleased with Clint’s easy admission. “He called for you.”

“You answered my phone?” Clint asked.

Jace glared at him. “He called mine.”

Shit.
He was dialing Jack back without waiting to hear more from Jace, who rolled off the bed and headed downstairs. Jace didn’t seem particularly upset, but he’d have to talk to the boy about it. But first, he needed to deal with a former fuck-buddy gone rogue.

“Hey, Clint—figured I’d hear from you.” Jack’s voice was a deep, easy drawl. “I’m in town, so I figured…”

“We’ve had this discussion,” Clint said tightly.

“Come on—you expect me to take that shit seriously?”

“Take it seriously, Jack. And if you ever call Jace again—”

But Jack had already hung up, and Clint doubted he’d heard the last of the guy. He should’ve been ready for that but never figured that Jack’s feelings ran any deeper than Clint’s own, which had been more of the quick, safe fuck variety than anything deeper.

He still owed Jace an explanation, even though the boy hadn’t asked for one. He went back into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans before heading downstairs barefoot, finding Jace rooting through the fridge.

The bruises on his back from the recent mission were looking worse than they had last night, and Clint couldn’t resist reaching out to rub them lightly. Jace looked over his shoulder.

“I’ll make you some breakfast,” he offered, and Jace shrugged, moved out of the way to let Clint grab the eggs and bacon and bread. As he got everything together, he said, “I never gave him your number.”

“Then how did he get it? How would he know we’re together?” Jace demanded, and yeah, there was the anger.

“He was helping on the MC op,” Clint explained. “We had everyone’s number. What are you more pissed about—the fact that I slept with him or that he knows about your personal life?” Clint wasn’t sure which he was hoping for.

Jace paused for a long moment before saying, “He knows we’re involved. He told me that I was just a fuck to you, that you’d never taken it seriously. That you were using me until he got back into town. That you’d been fucking for the past seven years and that you always came back to him.”

Jace waited for Clint to refute any of it. He wanted to, but for some reason, all that came out was, “We all have complications.”

“How complicated are yours?” Jace asked.

“Look, we weren’t exactly exclusive after a weekend together.”

“So we won’t be,” Jace shot back, and that made Clint see red.

God, the boy was purposely being such an asshole. After everything that happened last night, you’d think he’d learn to let his guard down. “I don’t want to picture you with anyone else.”

Jace gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m not a genie, and I don’t grant wishes.”

Clint threw down the bread he’d been playing with opening and went to Jace, pulled him up from the chair and into his arms. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. I told him that months ago—he’s just having trouble getting the message.”

As he looked into Jace’s eyes, he thought back to the night Tomcat officially died. Remembered watching the explosion that ended up killing another MC member, although that hadn’t been part of the plan. That the collateral damage had been a murdering thug had been of some comfort, but Clint had never been into playing God.

“You did good, Clint,” his handler told him, and it was the first time he’d heard his real name spoken out loud in years. And he hadn’t felt like Clint at all, just felt empty.

“I’d been thinking about you a lot,” he told Jace now. “I was planning on cutting you off before it got too hard. And then…”

Jack had been waiting for him at the safe house two weeks after Clint had retired Tomcat, two weeks after the explosion, when he’d realized he couldn’t sleep with Jack anymore.

“Hey, you avoiding me?” Jack had asked, and there was no use denying it any longer. He hadn’t seen Jace visiting his grave at the cemetery yet, but he’d known he would see Jace again.

“There’s someone else,” he’d said before he could stop himself. He wasn’t supposed to see Jace at all after the job was done, but Jace knew about his cover. So he justified that technically, he could see the boy again.

So when are you going to tell Jace?

He’d waited until Jace got home to do so, even then wasn’t sure. But when he saw pictures of Jace at his grave…well, that had nearly killed him.

“So after the bomb went off, you fucked someone else to make yourself feel better?” Jace asked.

Clint could do nothing but nod and say, “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Good.”

“I was numb, for Christ’s sake.”

“Obviously not that numb,” Jace muttered. “Fucking was the last thing on my mind.”

“We all handle grief differently,” Clint said, and that’s when Jace punched him, a left hook that caught his cheek and took him to the ground.

“Don’t pull your bullshit platitudes with me. You wanted to fuck and so you did. You didn’t owe me anything, other than honesty.”

Clint rubbed his cheek and tried to keep his temper in check. “You don’t want to fight me, boy.”

“Yeah, I do. I want to fight with you until I feel better, but I’m not sure you could take it.” Jace’s eyes blazed as he spoke.

“I guess we handle things differently.”

“Why can’t you say how you feel without spitting out what you think you’re supposed to?”

“I fucked Jack, and I pretended it was you—is that what you want to hear?”

“It’s a start,” Jace ground out. “Was I any good?”

“You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that?”

“You’re just figuring that out? Look, I get it. Now he wants you because he can’t have you,” Jace assessed, but the anger was gone from his voice.

“I’ve known him for a long time. I guess I misread the situation. But I don’t think I’m misreading this one, baby. I’ve been thinking about how I’d feel if you came to me and told me there was someone else. For a while, I didn’t think I could blame you, because I knew I couldn’t give you every day.”

“I couldn’t give you that either. I never asked for that—you offered.”

“I know I did. If that’s what you want, I’ll find a way. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me what you want.”

Jace just blinked hard. “You don’t have to say that to prove you’re sorry about Jack.”

“That’s not why I’m saying it. I wasn’t saying it in the hotel because you were hurt and pissed, either. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.” Jace reached up to put a hand behind Clint’s neck. “There’s been no one since you that night in your apartment. No one. And trust me, this isn’t exactly a convenience.”

Clint laughed softly as Jace pulled him closer for a kiss.

When they broke apart, Jace said, “You really think we can make this work beyond what we have?”

“I think we’d both do well in jobs we had more control over.”

“That can’t all be for me.”

“It’s not—and I don’t mean that in a bad way. But I’m content with what I’ve done. If you weren’t in the picture, I probably wouldn’t have considered this. But you are.” Clint watched him. “Am I alone on this goddamned ledge?”

“No.” Jace’s word was a whisper, the emotion choking him, and Clint took it as a good sign, especially when he added, “I’d explore the being-with-you-more-often thing, if there was really a way.”

Clint nodded, and for the first time, he realized he could seriously consider without freaking the thought of leaving the CIA behind. “I’ll find one. But for now, you know there’s no one else for me. Won’t be.”

“I’m not really that hungry right this second. Not for breakfast, anyway,” Jace told him, but Clint was already putting him at the table.

Were a series of relationship encounters enough to solidify their relationship for the rest of their lives? So far, Clint thought so.

“We have a lot more than most couples who are together daily have,” Clint reminded Jace, because it was the truth. Their time together might be brief, but they made the most of it. And they understood each other—the jobs, the secrecy. The fact that sometimes they were so wired after a mission that they couldn’t handle noise or touches or even company well all meant that they had a good handle on each other.

“We do have a lot of sex in this relationship.”

“The best ones do,” Clint pointed out. “If you don’t think that every time I fuck you, I’m telling you something, you’re wrong.”

“Are you doing this because you want me—or because you want to make sure no one else will have me?” Jace demanded.

“I don’t want anyone else to have you, but I want you. That’s the truth.” Clint eyed him. “Is there someone else?”

“No.”

“I never want there to be. All right?”

Jace nodded, bit his bottom lip. “Yeah, it’s more than all right.”

Sawyer opened his eyes and blinked at the too-bright sunlight. It took him several moments before he could actually move, and when he did, his head pounded.

Once he realized he wasn’t actually in his own place, the events of last night came pouring back over him. He reached for the tags on the bed next to him, and reading them confirmed everything.

They were Rex’s. And he probably had made a complete fool of himself coming here. Or had he? It was so damned fuzzy, and when he sat up, he realized how sore his ass was. And how alone he was.

He dressed quickly, made it down the beach and to his apartment in twenty minutes. He was still shaking after an equally long, hot shower, tried to blame it on the alcohol, although he knew it had nothing to do with it.

They hadn’t done much, but Sawyer knew he’d been pretty insistent. He remembered Rex told him that he wanted to wait until Sawyer was sober—Sawyer still didn’t think he was, despite the ten hours that had passed. And Sawyer wasn’t sure what he was upset at, because he’d been dreaming about waking up in Rex’s bed for months.

And then you ran
. Idiot. He put his head in his hands, looked up only when he heard his front door open. In seconds, Rex was in front of him.

“Get dressed. Pack a bag,” Rex said, and there was no arguing with him. Rex watched him the entire time as Sawyer’s cheeks burned. Finally, he followed Rex out the door and into the car.

As the truck rolled back toward Rex’s house, Rex pointed to the hot coffee.

“Thanks.”

“You ran off pretty fast.”

“I was…really busy.”

Rex laughed at that, long, loud and without a trace of malice. His hand landed on Sawyer’s thigh, and Sawyer’s cock rose at the touch.

Rex wasn’t angry. He was…he understood. Sawyer relaxed a little as Rex drove the truck into his garage. As the door closed behind them, Rex said, “Remember what I told you last night, when you said you were scared?”