Jackson (The Love Family Series Book 8) (3 page)

“He’s a mob boss, and she’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind getting involved with only God knows what. The people who killed her won’t think twice about killing you.”

Scarlett stepped around Jackson and headed toward the bathroom, after digging through the personal items in the hospital bag. She pulled out the orange locker key and clasped it between her fingers.

“She could have left me to die, and I would have. I do owe her, and I’m going to figure this out, with or without your help. If you don’t want to stay, Jackson, just go home.”

Scarlett closed the door on him, halting the conversation. 

“Oh, honey, I don’t think so.” A closed door wasn’t going to stop him from making his point.  Jackson stomped over to the bathroom and opened the door, not caring if she was naked or using the bathroom. He had a sister and had seen his share of naked women.

He stood on the threshold. Scarlett had her shirt in her hands, standing in front of the mirror in a bra and her torn jeans. Bruises and scratches covered her from the hairline dipping down into the waistband of her jeans.

“Do you mind?”

“I don’t mind. Scarlett…” Jackson said, stepping into the small room for a closer look at the damage. He lifted his hands to touch her but paused with them an inch away from her red and swollen flesh. “We need to get you something for the pain.”

“You heard the doctor. I’ll survive.” She glanced up into the mirror and met his gaze in the reflection. “I’d really like to get cleaned up.”

Jackson nodded and backed out of the room. “You need a change of clothes. You can wear some of mine until I can get to the store to buy you something else.”

“Thanks.” She moved to shut the door again and paused. “Thanks for coming after Alexis got the call from the hospital. I don’t…”

He held up his hand, cutting off her words. “I’ll always come. Any of us would. You’re practically family.”

She nodded. “You might want to call Alexis and keep her as far away from here as possible.”

“You’re right. Go take your bath. I’ve got some calls to make.”

Jackson grabbed a shirt and a pair of boxers and handed them to her before she shut the door.

He waited for the sound of running water before pulling out his phone. He needed answers, answers she didn’t have. He shot off a text to Reed to dig into anything electronic he could get his hands on. Next, he called his old trusted friend, Fritz, with the FBI.

He answered on the first ring. “Fritz.”

“Hey, Fritz.  It’s Jackson Love.”

“Love? It’s been a long time. Have you come back to your senses and are ready to give up the personal security business? I’m sure the bureau would take you back.”

Jackson chuckled. “Nope. That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Then to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What can you tell me about Rosie McIntire and her last assignment?”

A brief silence filled the line. “You first. Tell me why you’re asking.”

Jackson ran his hand over his head and squeezed his neck. “I heard she was shot today.”

“Shot?” Fritz asked. “I don’t know, but I do know she’s working undercover and missed her check-in. Where are you? Are you on the Island?”

“No.” Jackson lifted the blinds and glanced into the parking lot. “I’m out of town, helping a friend.” Lights flashed over the window as a car drove in and circled the parking lot. Jackson dropped the curtains. “Listen. I’ve got to go, so if you hear anything about Rosie, will you give me a call?”

“Sure, but where are you?”

“At the hospital with a sick friend. Just promise you’ll call if you hear anything.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, man.” Jackson hung up and peeked out the window again. The car had backed up into the space next to his rental. A family worked to unload their luggage.

Jackson’s phone dinged with a message from Reed saying he’d struck out on the surveillance from the club but he did find some action in the alleyway caught by the parking garage camera across the street. He attached a video, and Jackson plopped down in a chair and hit play.

His stomach churned as Rosie and Scarlett ran toward the street. They had stopped at the end of the alley and had looked toward the parking garage when Jackson spotted the man at the end of the alley with his gun aimed in their direction. Within seconds, Rosie fell to her knees as she pushed Scarlett. Terror covered her face as she screamed.

Jackson sat speechless, watching Scarlett’s accident. The man from the alley got closer but kept his head down. He stepped over Rosie’s body as if she were trash and jogged over toward Scarlett’s prone body. He stood over it for a brief second before yanking the purse from her arm. The cabbie got out to yell at the killer. He flashed his gun in the cabbie’s face before running off. The man from the alley lifted his gaze to look behind him, and the camera caught his face. Jackson paused the video. Words caught in his throat. Shock yielded quickly to fury. “Oh shit.”

Jackson busted into the bathroom to find her lying in the tub. Her eyes shot open. “Scar, we’ve got to go. You need to get out.”

She sat up, her eyes dazed. “I thought we were spending the night.”

She stood, giving him a full view of her body as she grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Um…we’ve got to go, and we’ve got to leave now.”

“Okay.”

He closed the door and grabbed his bag and keys. He kept a vigil at the window until she came out, dressed in her old jeans but wearing his T-shirt. She tossed him the boxers and her shirt. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her out of the room, keeping his head down as he headed for the rented SUV. “We need to ditch the SUV and find other wheels.”

“Drive to the airport. My roommate, Megan, left her car there.”

He shook his head. “They’ve probably already got eyes on it. We need something untraceable back to you or me.”

“What happened?” Her voice rose as Jackson pulled out into traffic.

“I called a friend to ask about Rosie like I said I would,” he answered glancing up into the rearview mirror and then back to the road.

“And?”

“He claimed not to know.”

“Well, she mentioned working undercover.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Jackson pulled out his phone, hit play on the video, and let her watch the accident again. “The man who shot Rosie and stole your purse is the same guy I called. He’s going to be looking for both of us now. I’m sure he’s already running a trace on my phone.”

“Oh God.” She handed the phone back to him as though it contained some contagious disease. Jackson lowered his window and tossed his phone into the ditch. 

****

Scarlett held her breath every time a car passed by as they drove. She had no idea of their new destination, only that they were heading farther out of town and probably away from wherever locker 519 was located. “Why are we leaving, Jackson? We need to go back and get the evidence.”

“We need to lie low for a day or two and make a plan.”

“Where?”

“I know a guy.”

She’d always questioned Jackson’s decision for leaving the FBI and the world of mystery and intrigue behind and going back to the Island. Danger and excitement were fine when it was happening to a hero and heroine in one of her books, but it sucked when she was the one running. A man shooting at her made her think twice about the years she had spent talking to criminals. “Yeah, you knew the guy you called too. How reliable is the new one?”

“This one owes me a favor. He’ll put us up. We’ll be safe for the time being.” Jackson glanced in her direction and gave her a hesitant smile. “Try to get some rest.”

Not likely. People were out to kill Jackson and her over evidence she didn’t even possess nor have any idea of what it entailed, and he wanted her to rest. Her day had spiraled downhill fast, and she hadn’t hit bottom yet. When was it going to stop? Any chance at the best sellers list was history, along with her notes on the dead mob boss. Her writing career was at Jackson’s mercy. No way could she do this alone. Tears welled in her eyes, and she clenched her teeth. The nervous breakdown would have to wait. So she decided for a distraction instead.

“Why did you leave the FBI?” She looked at him.

The darkened cab concealed his reaction. The dashboard lights gave her a small glimpse of his profile. “Personal reasons.”

Jackson’s polite way of telling her it was none of her damn business. She licked her lips and turned toward the car window. “Salvatore and Rosie said they trusted me because I kept your secret. They knew about the Loves. He even had the family picture that Alexis made me stand in, back when we were thirteen.”

“Shit.” He growled, and she twisted back toward him.

“What?”

“They’re all in danger. I called Fritz, and knowing him, I’m sure he’ll try to use them to bring us in.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s what I would do. I need to pull over.” Jackson swerved into the next gas station and got out. Before closing the door, he met her gaze. “Stay here and lock the door. If anything happens, you drive away and don’t look back. You go to the Island to Reed and Avery. Do you understand?”

She nodded, and he shut the door and gestured toward the lock. She clicked the button, and he walked away. Every fiber in her aching bones just wanted it all to go away. For things to go back to normal. Salvatore’s story should have been the last crime story she wrote before moving back to the Island to start the next chapter in her life. She’d wanted to restore her roots, change her genre to suspense, and fall in love. Now she would be lucky if she saw the sunrise in the morning. 

Scarlett watched Jackson through the store window as he moved about before walking to the register. The man behind the counter handed him a cordless phone, and Jackson pressed numbers and held it to his ear. He wasn’t on it but a minute before he handed it back, paid for the items on the counter, and returned to the SUV.

“That was a quick call.”

“I called in a code red to Reed. He’ll pass the message.”

“What’s a code red?”

Jackson ripped into the box containing a prepaid cell phone and plugged it into a charger. “My alert code meaning they’re all in danger.”

“Why do you have a code?” She’d never heard the Loves use any codes in all the years she’d known them. Maybe they’d never had to until now. This was all her fault.

His lips twitched as he pulled back out onto the road. “There’s always been a chance that someone would figure out we’re special. We just ran out of time, and I wanted to prepare them for the worst.” His brows dipped. “Get some sleep, Scarlett.”

“I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to.”

“Let me help.” He reached over, pressed his fingers to her forehead, and the darkness sucked her into a relaxed sleep.

Chapter 4

Scarlett woke to the sound of snoring in an unfamiliar room. A warm body was pressed to hers, and a soft comforter covered her body. She turned her head to find Jackson beside her. She glanced around the room, looking for any clue as to where they were. The pine dresser against the wall had a picture of a happy, smiling family sitting on top.

Jackson’s snores quieted before stopping altogether. He rolled on his side and pulled her into his arms. “We’re safe.”

She cleared her throat, trying to find her voice. Her concentration was toast from the feel of his warm body and stubbled-covered chin. “How did you know I was awake?”

“I’m a light sleeper, and you shifted.”

He’d felt her move? He was officially the lightest sleeper she’d ever met. “What did you do to me, and where are we?”

“You needed rest, and I helped you along.”

“You used your ability on me?” She squealed as though he’d violated her body and she hadn’t been awake to enjoy it.

“Like I said, you needed the rest. We’re at Frank’s house, the guy who owed me a favor, and he’s out of town so he’s letting us crash for as long as we need.”

She rolled into him. “So there’s no one here?”

“No, why? Do you need me to help you relieve some stress?” He leaned up, resting his head in his palm, looking down at her. “I’ll be gentle.” He grinned. “You can even be on top so I don’t hurt you.”

That thought had potential. “No.” She patted his chest. “You got me in bed. Wasn’t that your mission in high school?”

He chuckled. “Not quite.” Jackson sighed. “Frank’s wife is about the same size as you, and she said you’re welcome to anything she has, and we’ve got use of their car.”

“They must be some pretty understanding friends to let you use whatever you need.”

Jackson sat up, taking the warmth of his body with him as he slid off the bed. Black boxers covered his ass. Scarlett’s cheeks heated as she stared at his sculpted physique.

Jackson chuckled. “As many times as you’ve spent the night with Alexis, this shouldn’t embarrass you.”

“You uh… weren’t built like that when you were younger.”

“Yeah, you didn’t have breasts either.”

Scarlett covered her face and shook her head. Jackson was a tell-it-like-it-is, kind of guy. She shouldn’t have expected less. “I can’t believe I let you see me naked in the bathtub. I’m going to blush every time I have to look at you.”

“Red looks good on you, but you shouldn’t be embarrassed. You’ve got a body I could spend hours worshiping.” He winked before turning and walking toward the bathroom. “Feel free to find some clothes. I’m going to cook us some breakfast after I get cleaned up.”

“Jackson,” she called after him. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Whatever you walked into is some pretty deep shit, Scarlett. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. The men after us are trained killers. We need to make a plan and get this behind us.”

He went to close the door, and she hollered after him, “You could have just said you’re welcome.”

Jackson finished in the bathroom while Scarlett rummaged for clothes.

Scarlett took a quick shower. The spray of the water on her cuts stung like a bitch and had her in tears, yet she managed. She dressed in the other woman’s clothes. The jeans and cotton shirt hung loosely on Scarlett’s body, but they were in better shape than the one’s she’d worn. Her muscles ached, and she cringed at the feel of the fabric against her cuts and bruises. She’d survive, unlike Rosie. 

Twisting her hair up into a ponytail, she found her way to the kitchen. Pancakes, bacon, and a couple packages of blueberry muffins sat in the middle of the dining room table. Jackson sat behind a laptop, talking to someone. She grabbed a piece of bacon and moved to stand behind Jackson. Reed smiled on the screen. “I’m glad you’re alive, squirt.”

She smiled. “You and me both.”

“You’ve got some deadly dudes after you,” he replied.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay. I’ll bet here’s something you don’t know. Salvatore is alive.”

That made her pause with the bacon halfway to her mouth as she processed his words. Salvatore was alive. How was that even possible? He’d been in a shoot-out. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope. He’s alive and kicking. When Jackson called out a code red, I did some fast digging and reached out since this all went down at his place.”

Her mouth parted, but no words came out.

“Don’t look so surprised, Scarlett. My wife has met her fair share of seedy people in her line of work. He’s glad you’re still alive and offered to help in any way he can.”

“I saw the guns, heard the gunfire. How did he survive?”

“Salvatore must be bullet proof. He said he still owes you the story, feels responsible for your current predicament and wouldn’t mind some payback against the people responsible for killing some of his men.”

“Oh how nice. A mob boss has taken a shining to her. What the hell, Reed?”

“Hey, all hands on deck, Jackson. No favor is too big or too small to get Scarlett and you out of this cluster fuck. Did you figure out where you have to take the key? I can do some recon if I know where to look.”

Scarlett pulled it out of her bra. It seemed the safest place to hide it since being chased and run down. They would have to pry it from her cold, dead body. Scarlett turned the key over in her hand, looking for any insignia on the orange key.

“It doesn’t say.” She handed it to Jackson, who promptly held it up to the screen for Reed to get a better look.

“I’ll dig into it. Sit tight until the reinforcements show up.”

“Reinforcements?” Scarlett asked. Her heart leapt in her chest. Help was on the way, and boy, did they need it.

“You had to have known we’d send in the big guns.” Reed chuckled. “They’ll bring everything you need. Their ETA is first light tomorrow, so you guys sit tight, and I’ll keep digging.”

“Did you spread the code red? It would kill me if something happened and you guys weren’t prepared. The man who tried to kill me is a known FBI agent.”

“Don’t worry about us, Scarlett. We’ve got everything handled on the Island. You just worry about staying safe.”

Scarlett rested her hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Thanks, Reed, and tell the others I’m sorry. I had no idea…”

Reed chuckled. “They live for this shit. They wouldn’t know what to do if one of us wasn’t in danger. Besides, I’m sure you and Jackson can find something to keep you occupied until they show up. Didn’t you two date in high school?”

Scarlett grinned and shook her head. She wouldn’t call what  Jackson and she did an actual date. Although he had taken her to a restaurant, it wasn’t because he’d actually liked her. No, his motives had left a sour taste in her mouth.

Jackson chuckled. “Once. She ditched me at the door. Keep us posted.”

Reed let out a full belly laugh as Jackson shut the laptop, cutting him off. 

Scarlett took a seat, grabbed a package of muffins, and opened them. “That was rude.”

“I know. Ditching me at the door wasn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever done to me.”

She raised her brow. “You deserved it. You only asked me out on a bet.”

Jackson frowned. “No, I didn’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did someone lie about why I took you out?”

Her cheeks heated under his stare. It had made sense then, and looking at him now, it made more sense. The two were as different as night and day. “Christopher Sims told me you won twenty bucks.”

“That dork didn’t stand a chance. He’d always been sweet on you. Not that you noticed. You always had your nose buried in a book. He was jealous that I got your attention first and that you had said yes. He missed his chance.” Jackson rose from the table and walked into the kitchen.

Was that true? Had books derailed her from dating in high school? Was that still her problem? It’s not that she didn’t date. She just never found the time to slow down enough to worry about it. She’d rather write, always pushing herself to become better and more accomplished. When she wrote, her cares of the world just slipped passed her. She zoned into her characters and subjects so far that even cleaning the house became an afterthought. Creating and writing were her world, where she lived and lost herself away from real-life problems. Maybe if she hadn’t, she’d been better prepared for this crap. She had only her true crime stories to guide her through the mess. Past notes and stories led her to search for the listening bugs in her apartment and it was good that she had.

Jackson returned carrying two glasses of iced tea, making her mouth salivate. “Do you remember our date? I do.”

She grinned and took the tea.

“I took you to the most expensive restaurant on the Island and you ordered a glass of peach iced tea and cheese sticks.”

“And you got a medium rare steak if I’m not mistaken.”

“You remembered?” A grin formed on his lips.

“I remember everything about that night,” she said, taking a sip of her tea, surprised to find the flavor was peach. “I had a major crush on you. Every girl in high school did. You Love boys were a hot commodity, and you took me out. You can’t blame me for believing what Christopher said. I wasn’t that lucky. I knew there had to be a catch. High school jock taking the bookworm out on a date. That stuff only happens in movies and books.”

“When this is over, I’m taking you out again,” he said, grabbing a slice of bacon and taking a bite.

“I might not say yes this time.”

“Better offers?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Self-preservation.” She grinned over the rim of her glass and took another sip.

“You’ll say yes. You don’t know the meaning of the word self-preservation, or you wouldn’t have agreed to write a book based on a mob boss."

“You catch bad guys…well, you used to, and I write about them. We’re not so different.”

“You’re forgetting one thing, doll.”

Scarlett’s brow rose.

“I know how to protect myself, and you don’t.”

“That’s not true. I know how to shoot. My dad insisted that I learn when he found my passion was writing true crime. He didn’t care if the criminals were locked away behind bars.”

“Smart man. I’ll teach you more ways once we get through this. Every woman should have a basic knowledge of self-defense.”

Jackson sat back in his chair and nodded toward the spread of food as if wanting her to eat more. His crystal-clear blue gaze locked with hers. An emotion she couldn’t decipher filled his eyes.

Embarrassment rushed through her like a tidal wave. She’d been wearing blinders while chasing the big story. How could she have been so stupid?  Scarlett plastered on a fake smile as she rose from the table with her trash. Her appetite had diminished like her career. 

“We’ve got about twenty-four hours to kill. You should finish eating and let me tend to your cuts and bruises.”

“I’m not that hungry,” she said while picking up her wrapper and glass before walking into the kitchen.

The beautiful kitchen was huge, much like the rest of the house. Standing in front of the sink, she gazed out the window to the enormous pool and meticulously kept grounds in the backyard. A high stone wall stood in the distance, blocking out the rest of the world.

“It’s not my taste but should serve our purposes. It’s equipped with a ton of security and built like Fort Knox.”

She moved to the French doors for a better view. “I thought you only did security on the Island. Did you install theirs?”

Jackson stood next to her, staring out the door. “Yeah, you can say that. Frank’s security system was crap, and the guys that installed it were criminals. They kidnapped his son; I found him and brought him back.”

Scarlett glanced at Jackson, trying to hide the surprise on her face. “Nothing should surprise me about you and your family, but how did you find him?”

Jackson grinned. “Always with the questions. You can’t help it, can you?”

Typical Jackson style, evade the question. “It’s in my blood. My daddy was a reporter back in his heyday; my grandfather wrote mysteries, and well…you know what they say about the apple falling from the tree.”

“And you’re a mixture of both. Writing books like your grandfather and true crime like your dad.” He gestured toward the hallway. “Let’s get a look at your back.”

She followed him, taking her time to take in the family pictures on the wall. These people were living the life that Scarlett craved. Her heart dropped to her toes, as she thought this might very well be the last story she chased. “I’ll let you look at my back if you answer my question.”

He chuckled as he continued walking into the master bathroom to grab the first aid kit from the cabinet. “Persistence. That’s a new trait you must have learned after leaving the island.”

“So is stubbornness. Care to gamble who can out-wait the other?”

“I’ll talk after you strip.” He closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her waist. She stared up at him. Her gaze landed directly on his lips. His palm rested on the bare skin beneath her shirt. His touch lit a fire throughout her body. Not that she’d ever act first.