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Authors: Lili Valente

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Chapter Thirteen
Harley

Two days later

T
hey touched
down in Prague midmorning and fetched the key to the apartment from a PO box near the airport. By noon, they were getting into their third cab and completing their circuitous route to the apartment where Dom and Jasper were staying.

Harley didn’t sense that they were being followed, but it was best to be careful. While they were in Bangkok, Clay had been in touch with his associates at the CIA. They’d confirmed that Marlowe had been in south Thailand a couple of weeks ago, only days after Harley had been kidnapped. Even if Clay hadn’t taken her away, Marlowe’s early arrival would have surprised her. There was a chance she wouldn’t have had time to erase all evidence of Jasper’s existence before her boss arrived.

The knowledge made her less angry with Clay than she’d been before, taking her rage level down to…Not Really That Angry At All.

In the past two days, Clay had been a complete gentleman. He’d cooperated, kept his promises, and been unfailingly polite, even when she insisted they spend a few hours shopping for clothing in Bangkok, ensuring she, at least, had something appropriate and nondescript for the journey to Prague. None of the shops had sizes large enough to accommodate Clay’s shoulders, but he had other clothing with him aside from a castoff pair of scrubs.

No, Harley had no reason to complain about his behavior, but she couldn’t help being frustrated by it. The moment they’d agreed to work together, a wall had come down behind his eyes. She knew she should be grateful that he had seen reason—and she was—but she didn’t like being shut out.

It was madness to prefer the insane Clay who’d kidnapped her and fucked her in the dirt to respectful Clay who held the door open for her as she slid out of a taxi.

But she had never been particularly sane or reasonable, especially where this man was concerned.

“They’re on the tenth floor,” she said, clutching the handle of her small leather suitcase tight as she started around the block.

“I’m assuming there’s more than one point of entry?” Clay asked.

Harley nodded. “The penthouse has access to the landing pad on the roof in case of the need for air extraction and there are three exit points—the elevator used by all the residents, the main staircase, and a separate servants’ staircase that was blocked off from the rest of the building when it was renovated several years ago. Now that entrance only services the penthouse. That’s where we’ll go in.”

Clay kept close as she slipped into the alleyway between two late nineteenth century buildings, shortening his stride so that he remained just a pace behind her, ready to draw down on any threats approaching from ahead or behind. He carried his bag in his left hand, leaving his right free to reach for the weapon hidden beneath his weathered leather jacket.

After a brief argument during which Harley had made it clear that she knew her way around a gun, Clay had convinced her to seek cover at the first sign of trouble while he took care of any deadly force. He was a CIA agent, after all, with more legal loopholes to slip through to get away with shooting someone on foreign soil. Harley would have a much harder time explaining herself if she were caught with a smoking gun.

“Should you call ahead?” He stopped beside her, scanning the alley while she slipped the key from her jacket pocket. It was still cool in Prague in June and she was grateful for the light cotton jacket and thick linen pants she’d purchased in Bangkok. “To make sure your man knows I’m not a threat?”

“He’ll know you’re not a threat.” She unlocked the door and stepped over the marble threshold into a tasteful entryway. “And he’s not my man. He’s his own man. He’s watching Jasper as a favor. I don’t give him orders, so don’t assume he’ll take them from you, either.”

Clay grunted as she locked the door behind them. “I didn’t plan on giving any orders, but that’s good to know.”

“Just wanted you to understand the lay of the land.” She started up the stairwell, which was decidedly more rustic than the tasteful entryway where servants from another age would have received packages and sent out messages to other members of Prague’s higher society. “Dom can be touchy, but I can handle him. Just let me do the talking.”

She glanced back over her shoulder, not surprised to see tension in Clay’s expression. “And relax. Everything’s going to be fine. Jasper will be thrilled to meet you.”

“I am a little nervous.” Clay let out a long slow breath. “What if he wants to know where I’ve been the past six years?”

“Then we’ll tell him the truth. That I thought you were dead and you thought I was dead.” She scrunched her nose. “We’ll leave out the part about you kidnapping me and me knocking you unconscious. No need to scare him.”

Clay’s fingers captured her elbow and tugged lightly, stopping her on the landing. It was the first time he’d touched her since that day in the pool. Harley’s pulse spiked in response, but when she turned back to him, she was careful to keep her expression neutral. She refused to let him know that she was still attracted to him, not when it was clear he had shut down that part of himself and locked it away.

It was for the best—this was going to be confusing enough for everyone involved without her and Clay hate-fucking on the side—but she couldn’t help regretting that she would never touch him again. Never feel his skin hot beneath her fingertips or learn what it would be like to kiss him without any secrets or lies getting in the way.

“Thank you. Really. I…” His hand fell away from her arm. “I appreciate you making an effort to help this go well.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked with a shake of her head. “I want Jasper to have a good relationship with his father.”

She crossed her arms, the better not to take his hand and give it an encouraging squeeze. “And I’d have to be a pretty outrageous hypocrite to hope to be forgiven for the things I’ve done without offering forgiveness to other people in return. You know what I mean?”

“You really forgive me?” he asked, a vulnerable note in his voice she had been fairly sure she would never hear again.

She glanced up, a shiver working through her as a current of awareness arced through the air between them. It was thin and delicate—nothing like the lightning strike that had exploded between them on the island—but it was something, a sign that maybe he wasn’t as immune to her as he’d seemed for the past two days.

“I’m working on it,” she said honestly. “The confession and the past two days have helped a lot, and I have a feeling seeing Jasper will finish the job. I can’t wait to give him a hug.” She sighed, fighting a wave of emotion. “Let’s go. I’m excited for you to meet him, too.”

Shadows flickered behind his eyes, but he nodded. “Okay.”

At any other time, Harley might have stayed on the landing, pressing him until she learned if it was something other than nerves making him look like his dog was on its way to be put down, but right now she was too eager to get upstairs.

Jasper was so close. In a few minutes, she would have him in her arms again.

She took the stairs two at a time and arrived at the door breathing hard, but she couldn’t make herself wait to catch her breath before she knocked. She gave the special rap—three short, swift knocks, two slow, and then three fast again—and bounced on her toes, waiting impatiently for Dom to make it to the door, knowing better than to surprise him by letting herself in.

When he opened the door, she hurled herself into his arms, hugging him hard enough to make him grunt. “Thank you for making me get into shape,” she whispered into the warm curve of his neck. “You’re the very best.”

Dom grunted again, his body stiffening even as he returned her embrace. “And who’s this?”

“An old friend,” Harley said, releasing Dom and searching the wide, airy apartment behind him for Jasper. “I’ll explain after—”

“Mama!” Jasper appeared around the corner leading out of the kitchen. He dropped the toys he held—Sasquatch in one hand and chicken pox teddy in the other—and sprinted across the room, a smile lighting up his face.

She squatted down and held out her arms; he crashed into them with enough force to send them both rolling to the floor.

“Hey, bug,” she said, fighting tears as he squirmed into her lap and hugged her tight. She returned the embrace, knowing there was nothing in life more precious than hugs like these. “Oh man, I missed you so, so much. I’ve been thinking about you all day, every day.”

“Me too,” he said, arms tightening around her neck. “I was so worried. I thought something bad had happened.”

“Why would you think that, baby?” Harley petted his hair as she lifted curious eyes to Dominic’s face. But Dom only shook his head slightly and returned to side-eyeing Clay like it was his job.

“I’ve been having bad dreams.” Jasper pulled back to look at her, a furrow between his pale brows. “I hate bad dreams. I hate how they feel so real until the sun comes up.”

“Me too,” Harley said, kissing his forehead. “But now I’m back and I bet you won’t have any more bad dreams.”

“And if I do I can come sleep in your bed.” Jasper grinned, mischief sparking in his eyes.

Harley laughed as she hugged him close again. “Yes, you can come sleep in my bed, but only for a night or two. With the way you kick, I’d be black and blue if we had too many sleepovers.”

“I don’t kick in my sleep,” Jasper said indignantly.

“How would you know?” Harley said, ruffling his hair. “You’re asleep.”

“Watch it, lady,” he said, smiling as he rubbed his forehead against her shoulder.

“I’m not a lady, I’m your mother,” she murmured, her heartbeat finally starting to return to its normal rhythm.

He was here, he was safe in her arms, and they were both going to be okay. Jasper would adjust to the idea of a father in his life, and she would eventually stop worrying that she was making a huge mistake. This was the only way forward. She either let Clay into Jasper’s life in a controlled, cooperative manner or destroyed herself trying to keep him out.

Besides, she could do worse than a CIA agent for an ex. At least she could trust him to take the necessary measures to keep Jasper safe.

“So, I’m sure you noticed that I brought someone to visit,” Harley said, patting Jasper’s back as she pulled away from their embrace. “Would you like me to introduce you?”

Jasper gazed shyly up at Clay. “Okay.”

Harley stood, holding onto Jasper’s hand, more nervous than she thought she would be. The fact that Dom was standing there scowling at her like she had brought a rabid dog into the apartment wasn’t helping things.

Maybe she should have called ahead to warn him, but she’d known there was no way to explain something like this over the phone. She would pull Dom aside and talk him off the ledge as soon as she could, but first, she had to get the hardest part of this out of the way.

“Clay, this is Jasper,” she said, pausing to clear her throat before she pushed on with a smile for Jasper’s sake. “Jasper, this is Clay. I was told that he’d passed away a long time ago, but he’s alive. He found me on the island after you left and couldn’t wait to come see you. He’s your father, the one I never thought you would be able to meet.”

“Really?” Jasper’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at Clay.

“Yes. Really.” She fought the urge to wince at how awkward she sounded, refusing to look at Dom, whom she could feel shooting daggers at her from over Clay’s shoulder.

Clay knelt down, putting himself at Jasper’s level. “Hi, Jasper. I’m so happy to meet you. Your mom has told me so many great things about you.”

Jasper’s shy smile widened. “She brags about me sometimes.”

Clay smiled back, his grin a mirror image of his son’s. “Well, that’s what moms are supposed to do, right?”

Jasper nodded. “Do you have a mom?”

Harley laughed. “Of course he does, Jasper. Everyone has a mom.”

“But his mom would be my grandma,” Jasper said, shooting her a “duh, Mom” look.

“Yes, I have a mom,” Clay said, the awe in his eyes putting Harley’s fears at ease. Clay wasn’t going to hurt Jasper. He was going to love him, the way a father should. “And she’s going to be so excited to meet you. She’ll spoil you rotten and make you her famous rocky road cookies.”

“I don’t want to be rotten,” Jasper said. “But I’ve always wanted a grandma. Does she have gray hair like grandmas in cartoons?”

“No, she has blond hair like us,” Clay said. “And the same blue eyes.”

Jasper beamed, apparently liking that response. “Do you want to come see my toys? I have an ugly toy collection and some new puppets and cars that Dom and I got at the toy shop.”

“I would love to see your toys.” Clay glanced uncertainly at Harley as Jasper took his hand, seeming surprised that this was going so smoothly.

“Yeah, you two go. Have fun,” she said, before adding in sotto voce. “Kids are less complicated. Just go with the flow and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m complicated sometimes,” Jasper said, grabbing her hand, making it clear he’d heard every word. “Come on, Mama. You come too. I want to show you my dinosaur puppets.”

Harley gave his fingers a squeeze. “I’ll come in just a second, babe. Let me talk to Dom first and I’ll be right in.”

“Okay.” Jasper dropped her hand and began towing Clay across the room, the novelty of having a father overshadowing the return of the same old mom who had been around forever.

Harley watched them go until they were around the corner and then turned to face yet another very angry looking man.

It seemed angry men were her lot in life lately.

Chapter Fourteen
Harley

F
ive minutes later
, after the pithiest of updates, Dom was even angrier.

“So he kidnapped you, tortured you, and threatened to send you to prison for the rest of your life, and you decided it would be a good idea to bring him home to meet the kid.” Dom shook his head as he shouldered past her, heading toward Jasper’s room. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Harley grabbed his arm and dug her heels in. “I didn’t have a choice!” she whisper-shouted. “And keep your voice down. I don’t want Jasper to hear. There’s no point in scaring him. Clay is a fact of our lives now, like it or not.”

“Not. Definitely not.” Dom shrugged her off but thankfully stayed where he was and lowered his voice. “This is crazy, Harley. You can’t trust a man like that. Especially one who’s with the CIA. He has the power to make you drop off the face of the earth. You get that right?”

“I do,” she said. “But that’s why I have his confession stored in a safe place and I’m going to give you and Louisa the log-in details in case something happens to me. If he crosses me, I can cross him right back. I didn’t go into this blind, Dom. I know better than to trust someone I barely know.”

“You’re trusting him with your son.” Dom shot a worried look over his shoulder. “What’s to keep him from hurting Jasper the way he hurt you?”

“Jasper is an innocent child.
His
child,” she said. “I’m the woman who turned him against his best friend and framed Jackson for rape. Clay has every reason to be angry with me, he has no—”

“Angry, yes,” Dom interrupted, brows drawing tighter together. “He can be angry all he wants. That doesn’t give him the right to kidnap you or hurt you.”

He stepped closer, lifting his hand to her face, tracing her cheekbone with a gentle thumb. “You look like hell, H. I knew you’d been through something the second you walked through the door. I thought the Bangkok deal had gone wrong or something, I never—”

“The Bangkok deal never happened.” She eased away, her stomach clenching into a hard knot in response to Dom’s touch. Leave it to her sick libido to be repulsed by a decent man while craving the psycho in the other room like a breath underwater.

“And I didn’t have the chance to clean out the house before Marlowe showed up,” she continued, running a hand through her hair and fisting the strands away from her face. “He was on Ko Tao two days after Clay took me away. That’s why I posted the warning blog. I’m pretty sure Marlowe knows about Jasper and that’s he’s looking for both of us.”

“Then we find a place to hide,” Dom said, a hard look in his eyes. “You, me, and Jasper. We’ll go so deep underground only the moles and the worms will have a clue where we are.”

“I can’t.” She bit her bottom lip, knowing Dom wasn’t going to like what she had to say next. “I promised Clay that we’d stay together until his leave is over in a month or so.”

Dom’s eyebrows crept higher on his forehead. “Together? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Just that he can stay with us wherever we go next,” she said with a shrug. “So he can get to know Jasper. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Dom said, studying her with those dark eyes that didn’t miss a beat. “Because for a moment I thought maybe you were sleeping with him.”

She felt her face flush and hated Dom a little for that sharp gaze of his. “Who I sleep with is my own business.”

He reared back, her words evidently enough to send him rocking on his heels before he regained his equilibrium. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said in a rough, raw voice. “You fucked him? Please tell me you didn’t fuck him, Harley. Please tell me you have more self-respect left in you than that.”

“We both knew it was over between us when you left the island,” Harley said, anger making her cheeks burn even hotter. “I appreciate your help with Jasper, I really do, but your feedback on who I do or don’t fuck isn’t solicited. Or appreciated.”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s appreciated,” he said, shaking his head back and forth as his lip curled. “Someone has to tell you that you’re out of your goddamned mind. Just like your sister.”

He laughed an ugly laugh that made her regret letting things get more than friendly between them. “I wish I’d known the only way to win a Mason girl’s heart was to beat her and lock her in a cage. I could have kept you on a leash and spanked your pretty ass before bed every night. Then you would have stayed with me and been safe from men like this psycho you’re so excited to play house with.”

“I’m not playing house with him,” she snapped, fighting to keep her volume under control. “I’m doing what I have to do to keep my son. It’s called compromise, Dom. It’s what adults do instead of throwing a fit when they don’t get what they want.”

Dom’s eyes flashed. “Compromise? Sounds more like a deal with the devil to me,” he said, his words hitting too close to home. “But that’s what you do, isn’t it? You bounce from one bad idea to the next, somehow expecting the next monster you trust to be different than the last one.”

He stepped closer, leaning down to whisper his next words into her face. “You realize that’s the definition of insanity, right? Repeating the same behavior while expecting a different outcome?”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, a hard smile curving her lips as the urge to hurt him the way he was hurting her grew too strong to resist. “I mean, you’re certainly not the nice guy you pretend to be. But then I always figured your ‘love’ for Jasper would go out the window the second I stopped fucking you.”

His next breath huffed out from deep in his chest. “You’re such a bitch.”

“You say that like it’s news,” she said, ignoring the pain and regret swirling through her.

“I love that kid,” Dom said, his forehead wrinkling. “And I would do almost anything to keep him safe, but I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and watch you make this kind of stupid, dangerous decision.”

He swallowed, his throat working. “And I won’t watch you with another man. No matter how angry I am right now, I still care about you. And I know without a doubt that I’m the better choice.” He shook his head, hurt flashing in his eyes. “It should be me, Harley, and you know it.”

Harley pressed her lips together, fighting a wave of regret and self-loathing strong enough to bring her to her knees. “I know,” she finally said, voice cracking. “But it’s not. It’s always been him, Dom. I can’t help it. If the past two weeks haven’t changed that, nothing ever will.”

Dom cursed as his chin dropped to his chest. “You tear me apart, H. You really do. You and your sister.” He took a step back, his gaze still glued to the floor. “Say goodbye to Jasper for me.”

“Dom, no,” she said. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye to him. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s better this way,” he said, still backing away. “And don’t worry, I’ll take care of the other business we talked about. Even if the girl is as hopeless as the rest of her family, she deserves a get out of hell free card.”

“Just give me a month or two and I’ll be able to help you,” she said, though she felt terrible for consigning the little half-sister she’d never met to even another sixty days of captivity. “Dom, please. The CIA is closing in on Marlowe and the rest of the cartel. I could be free to move around like a normal person by the end of the summer.”

“You’ll never be free,” he said, reaching for the door. “I think you’ve made that pretty fucking clear.”

Harley lifted her hand, but let it fall back to her side without saying a word. She couldn’t reach out to him, not when she had nothing to offer him. At least nothing that he wanted.

Instead, she watched Dom walk out the door with nothing but the clothes on his back. He hadn’t even taken the time to pack his bags. That’s how desperate he was to get away from her. She had pushed another perfectly good person out of her life and now she was alone, without a single friend in the world, or anyone by her side except a man who had nearly killed her less than three weeks ago and a little boy who needed all the friends he could get.

She was about to go after Dom, to beg him to stay for just a few more days for Jasper’s sake, when Clay’s voice sounded behind her.

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

She turned to find him standing near the island in the kitchen, watching her with a shuttered expression. Jasper, thankfully, was nowhere in sight.

“How long have you been there?” she asked, sniffing as she swiped tears from her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been crying, that’s how emotionally sound and capable of making good decisions she was right now.

“Long enough to hear more than I should,” he said, his forehead furrowing. “And I’m sorry about that, too.”

Inside, Harley cringed, but she tried to smile anyway. “Yeah. Well, it is what it is, right?”

She crossed her arms and stared down at the floor, willing herself to pull it together. She was so focused on squashing the waves of emotion rising up to drown her alive that she didn’t realize Clay had crossed the room until his fingers wrapped gently around her upper arms.

She glanced up, seeing the same longing and regret in his eyes that rushed inside of her, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s like that for me, too,” he said softly. “It was always you, ever since that summer. I know the situation is too fucked up now for that to make a difference, but…you’re not alone.”

Her eyes filled again. “Then why do I feel like my last friend just walked out the door?”

Clay’s lips parted, but before he could speak, Jasper called out from the other side of the room. “Come on, Clay, I’m ready. You come too, Mom. I’m going to do a puppet show. I just needed a few minutes to practice.”

Harley leaned around Clay to grin at Jasper, blinking her tears away. “I can’t wait. We’ll be right in.” She kept her grin plastered in place until Jasper disappeared around the corner again. Then it fell away, leaving her and Clay alone with the hopeless, heartbreaking things they’d said still lingering in the air between them.

“I won’t hurt him,” Clay said. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not now, not ever. He’s such a sweet kid.”

“He is pretty great, isn’t he?” Her chest loosened as she thought of Jasper.

She still had her son. As long as that was true, she could get through anything. She had to get through it. Get through it and thrive on the other side. She wasn’t going to let Jasper down now, not when they were so close to having their freedom and a shot at a normal life.

“He is,” Clay agreed before adding in an almost shy voice, “Do all parents fall in love at first sight?”

She smiled up at him, a real one this time though it still felt sad on her lips. “I don’t know, but I did. The moment I saw his face.”

Kind of like the moment I saw yours.
But she knew better than to say that aloud.

Clay was right. Things were too fucked up now for any amount of emotion—past or present—to make a difference. She would simply have to move on, and pretend she was fine until that unreachable place inside of her froze over again.

It would, sooner or later, and then it wouldn’t hurt that she and Clay would never be anything but strangers who had missed their shot at forever.

BOOK: Filthy Wicked Games
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