The Ringer (8 page)

“In other words….” Lane pushed up onto her elbows, her nose practically touching the tip of his. “We have to find out why they framed you with I.A., why your ex-partner was shot, and who nearly killed us.”

“In a nutshell.” Jax bent to kiss her. A faint taste of white wine still lingered on her mouth. They’d filched a bottle from the beverage cart on their way to the master suite.

When he had arrived at the private airport late, he had accepted the possibility she may very well have been on her way to Colorado. Elation that she was still there had turned into a rush of self-loathing. He shouldn’t have come to count on her so fast. The need for her safety did not outweigh his want for her closeness. And for Jax, that was the moment every bit of his integrity had circled the drain.

Unable to control his desires for even a second longer, he had stalked over to her and kissed her. One kiss, he’d determined, was all he needed, even though he wanted much more. Jax had tried to control his instant hard-on. Once the realization sank in that she hadn’t left him behind, the circuits in his mind had gone haywire. With nowhere else to focus his attention, she’d gotten double barrels of his unfiltered emotions.

Unencumbered of pretense, Lane threw a mega-watt smile in his direction. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and her feet innocently bare. Needy want had given his senses a good kick, but his tip over the edge had been her fresh and open face. Her complete lack of guile had broken down the wall holding vestige of his integrity together.

As she fell back onto the pillow, her eyes bore into him. The sexy woman drew him farther into her web. He should have made plans for the plane to stop at the next city and turn it around right along with Lane.

They had their fun, but it was time to get to work. Jax opened his mouth to tell her as much. However, the red flush heating her face when she parted her legs rendered all his good intentions useless.

Warm and wet, she tempted him. Unwilling to reject her offer, he reached for a condom before he pushed his way in, regardless of the outcome.

It was a miserable, drizzly day with no sign of sun in sight. The pilot landed the plane at a private airstrip in Miami, and they caught a private town car to South Beach.

A torrent of thoughts whirled in Lane’s head. How long would they be on the run, and what would happen once she got back to The Windy City? Questions mixed and mingled, causing a bigger ball of confusion. Of course, she had yet to answer the most important one of them all….

Who wanted her dead?

When she moved to Chicago almost a year ago, she had become friends with one person, and it hadn’t been her husband. Other than Ava, Parker should have been the closest thing Lane had to family, but he wasn’t. After she served him with the divorce papers, she hadn’t heard a peep out of any of the Lockland clan.

While she turned over the last twenty-four hours in her head, the car came to a stop in front of a luxury high-rise. They got out and headed inside the building. She was not a detective by a long shot, but she couldn’t help but be bothered by the coincidence of her decoy job and running into Jax.

This morning she remembered the weird message she had received from Honey Pot’s decoy service. At first, she hadn’t thought anything of it, but after everything that happened, she had to confess something about it troubled her. The nameless voice had been unrecognizable. Usually the decoys were instructed to make contact with their security detail before they met with the cheating husbands. Once or twice, her security had called off the date or been late, but this time they’d told her to go straight to the mark in the bar.

The more she examined the events of that night, things just didn’t add up.

Jax led the way to the elevator bank without a single soul around to question their presence. No bellmen were on duty. With the expensive black granite desk and brass overlays, the building was definitely snazzy enough to warrant someone at the front desk.

Stuck in the puzzle of their predicament, she tried to flip, turn, and examine all the angles. A tingle along the base of her neck broke her concentration. She found Jax staring at her.

The beginnings of a lopsided grin inched his furrowed brow upward, erasing the serious expression of concern he’d sported all morning.

She tried to shake off the mushy feeling in her gut, but the moment he bumped his pinky into hers, she was a goner. Jax hooked his fingers with hers. They stepped onto the elevator together, and Lane smiled at his downright cuteness.

“Excuse me.” A woman covered in dirty coveralls and a baseball cap joined them before the cab doors shut.

“Max,” he muttered. He hit the button for the top floor. “You wouldn’t have been outside the building now would you?” he asked, his voice hardening as he went in full-cop mode.

“Not since you got me this nifty gift.” She lifted her pant leg to reveal a home arrest ankle bracelet.

“I doubt it,” Jax told her.

Curious, Lane tried to catch the woman’s face out of the corner of her eye but couldn’t make out anything discernible. Her cap covered her everything above her nose, and her clothes were too baggy.

“Is he here?”

“To bail his baby brother out of trouble? Of course he is.”

“Jealous?” he grunted.

“Nope, delighted.” Her tone dripped of syrup.

The cab’s doors opened inside of a suite, offering them a palatial oceanfront view of Miami. An entire wall of panoramic windows overlooked the majestic Atlantic Ocean. Once Lane focused on her surroundings, she was struck dumb by the condo.

Light, calm colors welcomed in the tantalizing sight from the outside. A condo that floated above the clouds. She imagined Cloud City from
Star Wars
was an apartment in Miami.

The woman yanked the hat off her head, allowing a cascade of blonde hair to fall free. “Honey, look who I found!” She moseyed out of the elevator first.

Jackson Thornbird’s clone walked into the room. The only difference was this guy had a clean-cut appearance. His shorter hair gave him a distinguished air. He offered them a genuine smile before he gathered the blonde who was covered in dirt into his arms. The good-looking man didn’t appear to care about his expensive suit.

“You didn’t give him a hard time did you, Maxie?” He gave her a kiss.

“Of course she did,” Jax interrupted before she could answer. “Lane, this is my brother, Nate, and his fiancée, Maxie.”

The crazy dynamic of power and money all in one spot was more than a bit intimidating. She gave a shy wave to the room.

“Oooh, so you’re the decoy?” Maxie flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving her full attention to Lane. Shocked by her beauty, her breath hitched a beat. Nate Thornbird’s fiancée was stunning. “Jax called us,” Maxie told her before Lane asked if she were psychic. “Is it fun?”

“Not when you’re dodging bullets,” she admitted.

“No?” Maxie shot back as if it were the only thing that would make it fun for her.

“Look, Max, there’s this thing I need….” Jax fumbled about for a moment before he mumbled, “I’m going to need a favor.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Maxie cupped her hand around her ear. “You need a huh?”

“A favor,” Jax brow furrowed. “I’m going to need you to teach Lane some of your self-defense moves.”

“Great top, Lane,” Maxie complimented her.

“Thanks.” She wondered where the strange shift in conversation had come from.

“Who made it?”

Lane glanced down at the top she wore—an airy, sweet number. The white peasant blouse fit in all the right places, which was generally difficult with her breast size. “Ava Garibaldi, she’s my—”

Maxie turned to Jax before she could finish. “I want one just like that, made to look like I have a rack, boob job worthy. Good ones like Lane.”

“You can’t be serious! All I asked—”

The two squared off and bickered back and forth loudly.

Nate made eye contact with her and shook his head as the argument between his brother and fiancée elevated.

“According to the terms of my house arrest,” Maxie’s said, her voice rising, “I cannot associate with wanted criminals, which you are now one of, and I cannot be—”

“All right, enough!” Nate shouted over the both of them. “You.” He turned his fiancée around and gave her behind a playful swat. “Go get some sweats for Lane.” Nate pointed at his brother. “And you, get Maxie the damn shirt she asked for.”

“Ah, man, Ava is the worst at negotiating,” Jax grumbled like a four-year-old.

“Don’t care. She asked you nicely, and you guys will be family soon.”

“That’s right, brat, family!” Maxie called over her shoulder.

“Serial killer,” he threw back.

Nate held out his hand for Lane. “Come, I’m almost positive Maxie can find something for you to tumble around in.”

Unsure whether to go or not, she took a glimpse at Jax. So far his family meet and greet had dissolved into the Hatfields and McCoys.

“Go on, honey, she doesn’t bite.” Jax encouraged her with a nod.

“Well, she does bite,” Nate whispered in her ear when she allowed him to take her arm. “But just a little and always in the right spot.” His brother chuckled and led her through the mini-McMansion of condominiums.

***

“Block! Block!”

Lane circled the boxing ring with her arms in front of her face. Two days ago her life had been semi-normal, but the seams of reality had torn apart. Apparently, self-defense meant avoid people’s fists.

She wasn’t positive who continued to hit her. A friend of Maxie’s she believed but couldn’t be sure. She was too busy defending herself from pain. It was just her bad luck the condominium had a workout facility in the building.

“Do you think a killer is gonna give you a timeout, girl, cover your face!” Maxie yelled from the other side of the ropes. A couple of Maxie’s well-toned friends tried to coach Lane to protect her assets.

“I fail to see what boxing has to do with—”
Bam!
  She took a hit to the chin. Stars would have been nice, but everything went dark before she could see those shiny lights. “Oh, God!”

The rank smell of chemicals hit her nose the same time Maxie’s perfect heart-shaped face came into her line of vision. She almost jumped out of her skin.

“She’s okay!” Maxie hollered and took the vial of smelling salts from under her nose. “You didn’t block,” Maxie scolded before reaching down to help her up. “We can’t go any further with your lesson until you learn defense.”

“A perpetrator wouldn’t give me the opportunity to put up my dukes.” Lane tried to shake the ringing out of her head, positive she had a concussion and would need immediate medical attention.

Maxie pulled her from the mat. “Get the hang of blocking, okay?”

At first, she thought the blonde came straight from heaven. After some time, she was sure Maxie couldn’t have been anything other than a cheerleader for evil.

“Let’s go,” Maxie hollered.

The bell rang for round two. She circled her opponent as the woman continued to throw jabs in her directions.

“You with Nate’s brother, aye?” Her challenger was a medium-sized Latino woman she’d heard someone call Lulu. Muscled and fast, Lane could see by her sneer she wanted to lay her out.

“Friends,” she admitted. Lane didn’t actually know how to categorize their burgeoning romance.
Are we truly friends with the potential for more, or are we friends who have sex only in times of crisis?

While she pondered the intricate details of her strange relationship with Jackson Thornbird, she blocked another punch. The sneaky witch tried to get her again, but this time she caught the right hook before it made contact with her face.

“He’s very sexy.” The boxer went around her again.

Lane kept alert and on her toes, unwilling to get hit again. Fool her once. “Yes,” she agreed.

“He’s the one that got our Maxie arrested.”

“Arrested,” she repeated, determined not to let the little punching monster distract her.

“Yes, he busted her for stealing cars.”

“Check out her body language. Study her movements,” Maxie instructed from the sidelines.

She tiptoed around her sparring partner, trying to stay out of arm’s reach. If Maxie wanted to take time out of her day to teach her self-defense, then she could at least try to defend herself. As much as she wanted to curl up in a ball, she didn’t want to cop out.

“Did she steal the cars?” Lane asked before she dodged a good upper cut.

“Of course she did, but he didn’t have to arrest her.”

The woman’s weight shifted to the right, which told her where to block. Lane pinpointed the shift. A fuzzy picture of what to do tweaked into focus, and she became aware there was no contact from her opponent’s jab. Pleased with herself, she took her small victory and struck out with her left. Her opponent dropped to the mat.

“Nice one,” Maxie cheered from the sidelines.

Miami always promised sunshine but not on this visit. Jax stared out the window overlooking South Beach and watched the storm pick up. He didn’t want to make the bad weather an omen, but he did take the rough tides as a sign.

“Raff boxed up your files. I’m having them sent to the cabin in Colorado,” Nate said.

Jax declined the drink his brother tried to pass him.

“You’re not on duty, bro, take a break.”

Nate was right. Jax needed a bit of relief. He accepted the whiskey straight and drank it all in one hit. It burned on the way down, but it gave him a much-needed kick into reality.

“I got Raff and Ralph situated in the firehouse. You’ll get a Skype call from them in about—” Nate checked his watch. “—ten minutes. Your partner’s brother, he’s a weird one, no?

“He’s a bit of an agoraphobic, among other things,” he said, happy to have Nate for a sibling and not the one his partner had gotten stuck with.

Nate had always been a no questions asked kind of sibling. Growing up, he’d never left him out to dry. More often than not, he assisted with the cover up.