Jackson (12 page)

She set down the pot and went over to his side. What was she supposed to do? Should she call the police? How the hell did she even do that out here? She glanced around. There were yachts docked on either side of them, but they appeared to be empty—their owners were probably out at dinner or exploring the city. Still, it was likely there were people within shouting distance, and she opened her mouth to call out when Leo grabbed her arm.

“Don’t,” he said. “We don’t want the local authorities involved in this.”

“You’ve been
shot
,” she reminded him. “And why won’t any of you ever let me call the police?”

“If you knew how many laws we’ve broken—or how many we’re probably currently breaking—you’d understand,” he said. “Besides, it’s just my arm. I’ve had worse.” He flashed her another smile as he released her, then frowned when he looked down and saw he’d left blood on her arm.

“Here,” she said. “Let me help.” She took the towel from him, then realized she had no idea what to do. Did she just keep applying pressure? Tie it around his arm like a tourniquet? Did she need to get him water? Painkillers?

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Leo said. “Jackson will get him.”

It most definitely was
not
all right. But how could she argue with the guy who’d just been shot? When Jackson had said this could be dangerous, she’d thought he was just talking about the car chase and other spy-movie stuff. Not people actually getting bullets in their arms.

“The others will be back soon,” Leo said. “You’re doing just fine.”

She let out a strained laugh. “I should be the one comforting you. Not the other way around.”

“I told you, I’ve had worse. And Jackson would kill me if he came back and found you upset.”

The mention of Jackson made her whole body flush. She couldn’t believe she’d almost had sex with him—but even now, every part of her was still alive with sensation. Try as she might, she couldn’t reason herself out of her desire for him.

“Jackson wouldn’t blame you for something like that,” she said weakly.

“You’re right. He’d probably blame himself.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t.

“Don’t look so glum,” Leo said. “He’s not normally this high-strung.”

She nodded, still frowning. “He’s just got a lot of things on his mind right now.”
Like blaming himself for his teammate’s betrayal.

“Or being madly in love and not having a fucking clue what to do with himself.”

Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “It’s not like either of you has done anything to hide it.”

“But… I don’t…” Lust was one thing, but
love
was a completely different sort of situation, and one she most definitely was not ready to deal with.

He chuckled. “I should probably point out that these walls might as well be made of paper.”

It took her a second to realize what he meant, but when she did, she went cold, then hot.

“You… you heard…”

“I tried not to,” he said, that weak excuse for a smile still on his lips. “Honest.”

Her entire body was on fire. She hadn’t even had a chance to fully process what had happened between her and Jackson. The idea that someone else knew, that someone else
had heard…

“Don’t look so upset,” he said. “You two have been fucking each other with your eyes since the moment you got here. Not much left to hide.”

This was too much. In a moment, she was sure to erupt into flames.

“I just… We didn’t…” Even her tongue felt warm and thick. “Shouldn’t I call someone? Roth?”

Leo’s eyes flashed with humor, but he gave a nod—then winced. “Let me grab my phone.”

He did, and quicker than she even expected, Roth and Alexei had returned to the boat. Suddenly, she felt in the way again.

“I’ll take over from here,” said the deep-voiced Russian, grabbing the makeshift bandage from her hand at the same time Roth demanded, “What happened?”

Leo tried to sit up, then decided better of it. “We had a visitor. Jackson took off after him.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

Leo nodded. “That tiny fellow of Nash’s.”

Roth cursed.

“Jackson will get him,” said Leo.

But Roth didn’t seem convinced. “The atlas? The journals?”

“Still here,” Leo said. Alexei fiddled with the bandage, and he grimaced. “They might have a couple of guys on our tail, but not enough to rush us all at once. This guy was trying to be sneaky. I was lying down on the bench and I’m pretty sure he’d thought I dozed off. Caught him by surprise. He panicked and shot.”

Roth seemed to take this in, then spun on Charlotte. “And where were you during all of this?”

Heat flooded her face again. “I… Below.”

“And where was Jackson?”

She was grateful for the dark—otherwise, she was sure her blush would’ve given everything away.

“Look,” said Leo through clenched teeth, “I’m happy to go over the details later. But in the meantime, can someone grab me some aspirin? And preferably some strong liquor?”

Charlotte practically leaped forward. “I will.”

But as she hurried down the steps, all she had to do was take one look at Roth’s eyes to know this discussion wasn’t over.

* * *

When Jackson returned to the boat, he was ready to kill something. Adrenaline vibrated through his veins. His body ached from exertion. And he had nothing to show for it.

He could have kept going all night. It didn’t matter where that little fucker was hiding. Jackson wouldn’t have rested until he found him. But Roth had called and ordered him to return. He’d tried to argue, to insist that it was important for him to catch this guy, but Roth was having none of it. Eventually, Jackson had a choice: obey his leader or obey his pride. He’d chosen his leader.

But that didn’t keep his anger from burning through him. His quarry had escaped him. Again. And that knowledge festered in his gut as he made his way back through Hvar. Why was he even here, if his team couldn’t count on him?

And when he reached the boat and saw Charlie looking pale and confused on the deck, he felt even worse. The gunman had been fifteen feet away from him. If the man had gotten past Leo, if he’d made it down to the bunks… by the time he’d have noticed, it would have been too late. He’d put Charlie at risk because he couldn’t control himself.

His chest tightened when her eyes found his. He wanted to go to her, to pull her into his arms and run his hands over her body until he’d proven to himself beyond all doubt that she was unhurt. That she hadn’t suffered due to his carelessness. Meanwhile, his cock hadn’t failed to notice the way her hair was still tousled from their encounter below, or the way the strap of her dress was once again dangling off her shoulder.

Fuck, man
, he thought.
Now isn’t the time for this.
But he’d been in a perpetual state of arousal since showing up at her door, and his dick didn’t seem to know how to do anything but respond to her.

Fortunately—or not—no one was a greater cock-block than Roth.

“I’ve been in touch with Xavier and Toshi,” his leader said. “Their orders are to stay in Vis for the time being.”

Jackson took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm himself. “Leo?”

“Below. Conscious. Alexei managed to stop the bleeding. Said the bullet went right through him. He gave him a few temporary stitches, but our supplies out here are limited.”

“Is there a hospital on the island?” Jackson asked. He’d stolen medical supplies before in a pinch, and he’d do it again.

“There is, but we’ll be returning to Split instead. It’ll be easier to disappear there. We need to take care of this discreetly. And find a place to hole up for a few days where there aren’t people shooting at us every four hours.” He straightened his shoulders. “We rushed into this, I see that now. I was so worried about staying ahead of Nash that I didn’t allow us the time to do our normal research and preparations. We’ll return to Split until we have a better idea of our next step.”

“And we’re just going to let that bastard get away?”

Roth’s expression was stony. “That ‘bastard’ already got away.”

“He couldn’t have gotten far. We’re still on an island, and he didn’t jump on one of these other boats. He’s out there. Let me go get him. He fucking shot Leo!”

“If you’re so concerned with your teammate’s safety, then where were you when the shot went off?”

Jackson’s back went rigid. He didn’t even have to answer—he could see that Roth already knew the truth.

“Let me make things right,” he said through clenched teeth. “Please, Roth. Let me go after this fucker.”

Roth’s eyes flicked past him. “Let’s say I allow you to stay here and go after your man. What about your girlfriend? Should we continue to cart her around while you’re off assuaging your conscience?”

Shit.
In his impatience, he’d forgotten all about Charlie. But before he could argue for her, a voice spoke up behind him.

“I can find my own way back to Split.”

He spun around. Charlie was standing there, still looking pale and tousled. But her eyes were hard with determination.

“Charlie—”

“There’s no reason for me to be here,” she said. “Roth’s right. I’m just in the way. I’m not contributing anything. And it’s probably safer for me on my own.”

This was crazy. He was not about to let her go off on her own—especially now.

“No way in hell,” he told her.

“It’s not your decision,” she countered.

“It’s not safe.”

“Then I’ll take the first plane I can get to somewhere that is.” She crossed her arms. “This solves everyone’s problems, Jackson. You can go off on your own without worrying about me. Your team can do what they need to do without me getting in the way.”

The old Charlie wouldn’t have argued like this. But there was something ridiculously erotic about that angry spark in her eyes—and the way her love-bitten lips kept pursing as she stared him down. He wasn’t about to let her run off on her own. But the idea of leaving her on this ship—letting her sail back to Split away from him—didn’t appeal to him either.

“Fine,” he said. He looked back at Roth. “If she gets off too, can I go after him?”

Roth’s eyes shifted from him to Charlie and then back again. His leader was a hard, practical man—he rarely let his emotions dictate his decisions—but even he had to see that they couldn’t keep letting Nash’s men pick away at them.

Finally, the older man gave a single nod, though his eyes were as steely and unforgiving as ever.

“I expect you in Split in forty-eight hours, whether or not you find him,” he said.

It was more than Jackson had expected to get. “Agreed.”

Roth turned to Charlie next. “I thank you for the atlas. I’ll make sure you’re compensated fairly for it.”

And just like that, the decision was made. A short while later, Jackson and Charlie were standing on the dock, watching the yacht sail off into the night.

“Will Leo be all right?” she asked him softly as the sails disappeared into the darkness.

“Roth takes care of his own,” Jackson said. He’d only gotten a brief moment to see Leo before disembarking again, and his friend seemed to be holding up well—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make his shooter pay.

She was quiet for a long moment after that. Until finally, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her at all, she said, “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you.”

He looked down at her. Now that the anger had bled out of her, she once again looked so fragile, so innocent. He reached out and brushed his fingers across her temple, then tangled them gently in her hair.

“I’ve already told you that you aren’t causing trouble,” he said.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Roth blames me for you being distracted. And he’s right.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “And you’ve done nothing but argue with him about me since I got here.”

His hand stilled, though he kept his fingers in her hair. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her.

“Roth is a good man,” he said after a moment. “He’s a man I deeply respect. But he puts the team above all else, and he expects us to do the same.”

She didn’t respond.

There was so much he wanted to explain to her. So many things he knew she couldn’t understand about his life as part of the Set.

Maybe she already knows
, he told himself, looking down at her. The Charlie he’d left behind nine months ago was from a completely different world. But the Charlie standing next to him… There was something in her he’d never seen before. Never had the chance to see.

Part of him wanted to stand here with her all night. To twine his fingers through her soft hair and lose himself in those gray eyes and maybe even continue what they’d started on the boat. His body throbbed with unfulfilled need—but he still had a job to do.