Mind Lies (23 page)

I cut her off, choosing not to acknowledge the “make me love you again”
comment that implies she doesn’t love me anymore, and tell her, “I quit, Jerrilyn.” When she stops her tirade and turns to face me, I continue. “I met with Lee when I got off the phone with you last and told him I was done.”

Walking into the pub, I spot Lee at our regular table. It’s not an inconspicuous place to meet, but two men sharing a pint in a pub is as common as it gets around here.

Taking a seat across from him, I rub my hands over my tired face. I’ve been awake for nearly thirty-six hours. Ever since I told Jerri and Paddy what happened, I haven’t been able to sleep.

I wish I were haunted by what Yakov would do to me if he found me again, or haunted by the memories of the shit I’ve seen over the years—the women and children. But that’s not what keeps me awake at night.

For once, it’s something entirely different.

I can’t sleep because I’m haunted by the fact that my Lass may not want me anymore. I’m haunted because she may look for the man who will rub her back, make her breakfast in bed, and be her plus-one at a fucking dinner party.

And thinking of her with another man while she’s carrying my child eats at me. It pains and angers me enough to keep me awake at night.

“I know what yer here to say,” Lee says, pulling me from my thoughts to the man in front of me.

Lee’s become a friend. Well, as much of a friend as someone can be when in this line of work. If we meet for a drink, the talking is limited, but the comfortable silence is supportive. Lee’s a good man. A hard worker. If he says something, he means it, and if he doesn’t speak, it’s because there isn’t anything important to say.

I don’t know all the details to Lee’s demons, as he knows mine. Of course, I had to share my story about Siobhan when I was asking around for help, but Lee is not so forthcoming.

Not that I blame him. If I never had to talk about Siobhan’s death again, it would be too soon. All I know is there’s a void in his eyes that speaks to me. Or maybe it speaks to the eighteen-year-old me who found his girlfriend beaten to death.

Either way, I’ve been a lucky bastard to have him as my contact with G2. Even luckier is the fact that he’s boots to the ground when I need him. When I started this, I was strictly a gatherer. With my contacts at many of the ports, I could get insider info that G2 didn’t have. But that information grew to be too big for just one person. Once Lee and I rescued Jerri, it lit a new fire in me—a fire that wanted to do more than just sit around and get information.

A fire that led me to the shooting range more often. And when I wasn’t at the range, I was at the gym sparring with Lee, or some other unlucky bastard at the receiving end of my wrath.

That fire turned into anger and bitterness, but I held onto it because that kept me focused.

Focused not on the woman who was nearly taken from me. Focused on the mission.

My promise to Siobhan.

“What do ya think I’m here to say?” I ask.

The linebacker-sized agent runs a hand over his buzz cut before settling his vacant eyes on my own. “That it’s over for ya, and I need to find a new partner.”

Partner.

That’s the thing about Lee. He respects me. Never saw me or simply used me as a means to an end, a middle man to gather puzzle pieces while he put them together.

No.

He treated me as an equal.

I can’t say it’s been the same for some of the other agents I’ve met. Some are so uptight that you would want to pry the stick out of their asses and beat some fucking sense into them with it.

Nodding, I ask, “How’d you know?”

He smirks, but there’s no mirth or humor in his eyes. “I’ve seen her, Lock. I ain’t fuckin’ blind.”

I smirk back. “Aye. Carryin’ a babe looks good on her.”

Lee goes to have a drink of his beer but pauses and then sets it back down. “She’s pregnant?”

I nod, half-confused because I thought his comment was regarding the pregnancy. But obviously the prick was just commenting on her looks. I don’t blame him; Jerri’s stunning. But that doesn’t mean I want every other bastard to think so.

“How far along?” he asks.

“About five months with my son.” Fuck it feels good and scary to say that.

My son.

“Why the fuck ya still sittin’ here, Locklin?” He shakes his head in frustration. “Thought you were a dumb shit when ya kept workin’ with me after that night we rescued Jerri. Kept askin’ myself, ‘What man in his right fuckin’ mind has a good woman to go home to and chooses to do this?’”

Shaking his head, he looks out around the bar and gathers his next words before settling his eyes back on me. “Now you got a son on the way, but for the past five months you been runnin’ in the shadows at night with me instead of bein’ with yer fuckin’ family?”

Slamming my beer down on the table, I say, “I finish what I start, Lee. We had a job to do, and that job isn’t finished because Yakov is still out there. I don’t care if we’ve taken down at least a dozen of his men over the years. It won’t stop for me until we get him.”

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Lock.” He spits at me in frustration. “This ain’t about Yakov anymore. This is about your promise to a fuckin’ ghost.” Leaning closer, he adds, “Ghosts can’t warm your bed at night, Lock. And they sure as fuck can’t give you family. You got both of those waitin’ for you. You had one waitin’ on you for a decade, and yet you sit here with my sorry ass?”

I feel like a fuck, and he looks as if I kicked his dog. No longer held back by boundaries, I ask, “What the fuck put you here, Lee? Why’s it not okay for me to chase a ghost, but you can?”

Chugging a healthy portion of his beer, he looks off, lost in though, and says, “Had a family once, Lock. I’d drop this job in a heartbeat for more time with them. But they aren’t here, and I’ve got nothin’ left to lose. But you? You got somethin’ worth waking up for every day, and she’s a hell of a lot warmer than that ghost you’re chasin’.”

Lee was right.

“I hooked Lee up with Patrick at the dock in Belfast. He’s going to bring in another agent to work on bringing down Yakov. It’s too risky for me anyway since I was followed. But I’m done, Jerri.”

I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. I’ve said the words she’s waited so long to hear, for a decade. I thought it would be harder, but Lee was right. I belonged here all along. It only took me twelve years, a bullet, and a good tongue-lashing from my fiery Lass.

When she starts nodding her head, I know I’ve got her. I know I’ve done something to make her happy. Licking her lips, she starts to speak, and I do all I can to focus on her eyes and not her mouth. “That’s good, Locklin. I’m sure it was a tough decision to make—”

“Easiest decision of my life, Lass.”

Giving me a small smile, she tells me. “You deserve freedom, Locklin. You deserve your own life. I’m happy for you, truly I am.” She shakes her head. “But don’t mistake my happiness for forgiveness.”

She’s fucking killing me.

Rubbing my chest, I watch as she walks into the house. “Go see Paddy and Ness before they go to bed.”

I grumble, “Already seen Paddy.”

Chapter Thirty

Of course he’s been to see Paddy. And that’s why Paddy was somber after dinner, the slippery old bastard. He knew how I would react. He also knew I wouldn’t want to see him.

So why did Paddy let him come here?

Any other day, Paddy would have told him to take his
lyin’ arse elsewhere, so long as elsewhere wasn’t anywhere near me.

I watch as Lock rubs his chest, either feeling pain from the bullet or something else. I don’t know.

“Go home, Locklin.”

He looks to the house and then to me. “Paddy won’t let me in the house.”

I raise a brow at him. He adds, “Told me not to ask Nessa either. Said I’m not allowed to sleep there until I pull my head out of my arse.”

“Why didn’t you tell him you quit?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he says, “I did. That’s not why he thinks my head’s up my arse.”

I frown. “So go stay at your flat in town.”

He shakes his head. “Got rid of the flat ten years ago, Lass.”

“I thought you kept it. I know you didn’t stay
here
all those times you came back.”

“I stayed on the boat. If I had any free time, I wasn’t gonna waste it in an empty flat when on the other side of the pond was a flat with my woman in it.”

God help me.

“I’m not your woman anymore, and I don’t want you to stay here, Locklin. If that’s the case, I may as well head back to Boston.”

Reaching around me, he opens the door and gestures into the cabin. “I thought you might say that, so I’ll remind you that going into early labor on a ship with no real medical team could be a disaster. What if something went wrong and you were still days from reaching land?”

He has a point, but I don’t tell him that.

“And you haven’t used your original passport since you arrived in Ireland twelve years ago. It’s possible Yakov is no longer looking for you, but he wouldn’t forget you either. I also know nobody has crossed him or witnessed his crimes and lived to tell about it. If we’re smart, we’ll assume using your passport will raise a red flag and alert him to where you are.”

“If I stay, it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you here,” I tell him, rubbing my lower back. Between the walk and standing here having a conversation I never wanted to start in the first place, it’s aching.

His eyes soften, ever the astute one when it comes to the needs of a woman’s body.

Just not her heart.

“You need to rest, Lass.”

Pointing to the door, I tell him, “And you need to leave.”

He shakes his head. “Never. I’m never leaving again, Jerri.”

Too tired to argue, too tired to continue a conversation that won’t quit unless he wants it to, I wave over my shoulder as I head to the bedroom. “You want to stay where you’re not wanted, Locklin, that’s fine.” Pausing when I reach the doorway, I look over my shoulder at his solid frame, which dwarfs this little abode. “But I haven’t forgiven you. Go see Ness; she’ll be more charitable.”

I don’t wait for his reply. I simply shut the door to what was once my haven, my place of peace.

Peace went out the window the minute I found him on my porch.

Leaning my head against the door, I mumble, “What are you doing, Locklin? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away?”

It would have been easier.

After washing my face, I change into my nightshirt and get into bed. Only when the house is quiet and the stars are brightest do I give into my tears.

***

I’ve been lying awake in bed, listening to the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen. Sometimes Nessa comes to cook me breakfast, but I have a feeling it’s not her.

If Ness was here, she’d be talking to herself, or humming.

There’s no humming.

Sleep didn’t come easy last night, and I’m tired, more tired than usual. But apparently that’s the norm when carrying a child.

They suck the life out of you.

There’s no warning when the door to my bedroom opens, which lets me know it’s definitely not Ness. Locklin’s body takes up the better part of the doorway. In one hand, he has a glass of orange juice. In the other, he has a small tray.

“Morning, Lass,” he says, face brighter than yesterday, dressed for the day in a pair of jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt.

Sitting up in the bed, I lean against the headboard. “What are you doing, Lock?”

He sets the orange juice down on the nightstand and places the tray on my lap. Swallowing thickly, I take in the plate of food.

Egg’s Benny.

“I haven’t quite mastered the poached egg part of this,” he says, waving his hand toward the messy pile of eggs. “In fact, I watched a YouTube video on poached eggs three times, and I think it’s a fucking joke because I did exactly what it said, and they look, well, like
that.
”

Working hard to keep a straight face, I try not to laugh. “I’m sure they taste the same as pretty eggs.”

He nods, thinking seriously about it. “You’re probably right.”

Clearing my throat, I ask, “Why aren’t you with Nessa? I told you she wanted to see you.”

He sighs and takes a seat in the chair by my window, angling toward the bed. “I went to see her this morning.” Running his hands through his thick hair, he adds, “She’s not my biggest fan at the moment either, Lass.”

I swallow past my bite of eggs. “I didn’t tell them the truth because I wanted them to be angry with you, Locklin. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

Waving a hand, he cuts me off. “The only person people should be angry with is
me
. That’s not your fault, Jerri. That’s all on me.”

Locklin has always been straight to the point, but this is more candid. He’s open in a way I haven’t seen before.

He lied to you.

My phone starts ringing, and I grab it from the night stand. “Could you . . .” I don’t finish speaking because he’s already getting out of his chair.

“Morning chat with Portia, I know.” He pauses at the doorway and adds, “When you’re finished, I’d like to talk. I’ll be on the back porch.”

Before he closes the door, I add, “I told you I didn’t want you to stay here, Locklin.”

He throws back, “And I told you I wasn’t leaving.”

Then he shuts the door.

“Shit,” I mumble when I pick up the phone.

“What the hel—
lo
woman! How you doing today?” Portia asks.

“Cooper’s around, and you almost cursed, didn’t you?”

She whines, “I’ve been trying for over six months, Jer. It’s impossible. If there’s someone who can go a month without swearing, I wanna meet them and ask how they do it. I was on a good swear-free streak until last night in bed when I asked Cooper to F-word me, so I had to start all over again! And the kicker here: Coop loves dirty talk in bed, but he still told me that was a fail! So what am I supposed to say? Sex me harder, Coop? It doesn’t sound near as good or as dirty. If we keep this up, I’m going to be talking the way Christine talks around her kids when she’s all,
‘He put the P in her V
.
’
I can’t live like this, Jerri. Honestly, who doesn’t swear?”

Finally, she pauses to take a breath. I answer, “Holy people? The clergy? Nuns?”

She scoffs. “They do so, my friend. You don’t go around talking about
Hell
all day and not swear.”

I form a reply, but she cuts me off. “Anyway, what had you cursing the S-word, you lucky B?”

I sigh. “Locklin’s here.”

She lets out a low whistle. “That didn’t take long. I thought he had arrived there two days ago?”

Frowning, I ask, “How do you know when he was supposed to get here?”

“Because he told me,” she simply replies.

“Did you not think it’d be a good idea to pass that information along? We talk nearly every day. How did you leave that shit unsaid? What the hell, P?”

She sighs in contentment. “First, tell me how good it felt to drop the S- and the H-bomb, and then I’ll answer your question.”

“It felt fucking fantastic. Now spill.”

I swear she’s having an orgasm when she mutters, “Gosh, I miss my F-bombs.” Clearing her throat, she then dives in. “He showed up at the apartment a little over a week ago. After a few good curses with Cooper, he let him in.”

I swallow. “Cooper let Locklin into your apartment?”

“I know. I was shocked to sh-shoshana, too. Quick save with shoshana, right? There’s more where that came from. So yeah, he let him in, and get this . . .” She pauses for dramatic effect. “They shared a beer together, Jer. A
beer
!”

“You’re kidding?”

“I’m not. You can’t make this shellac up.”

“I feel oddly betrayed by Cooper. But my pregnancy hormones want to weep, P, because that’s all I have wanted for the longest time. Only now, after I told him I was done, does he finally insert himself into my life, and my friend’s lives. How messed up is that?”

“It is messed up, Babe. But I think he had good intentions.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

She sighs. “You know I’m a pretty neutral person, Jer.”

I snort. “Neutral my ass. You can hold a grudge unlike anyone I know. The question is why is the grudge fading in this case?”

“I think he’s really sorry, Jer. And I know you don’t want to believe it—no wait—you want to pretend you don’t, but I know you still love him. I know that because even if Cooper betrays me in the most awful of ways, I would still love him. You can’t just turn that shiatzu off. That being said, I think maybe you might want to give him another chance.”

“P, are you alright?”

“Ugh. F-fund it, I’m pregnant.”

I nearly drop the phone. “What? When?”

“You better not ask how because I f-fundraising hate when people ask that.”

“Good save again, P. And I knew there was something wrong. There was way too much sentimentality in that last spiel.”

“I know. I feel like a weepy, old woman. I found out the night before Locklin came to the apartment. That might have been why I was so accommodating, considering I just found out I got my spawn-carrying card. When I think about it, it’s probably why Cooper was so accommodating, too. I mean, he just found out he was gonna be a dad, Jer. Maybe they connected on some dad-to-be level, you know? I went to bed, and they were still talking.”

Walking into the bathroom, I place the phone on the vanity as I go through my morning routine.

“I just don’t understand why? Locklin doesn’t ask for anyone’s permission in anything. And ultimately he wouldn’t give a shit what Cooper thought. So why talk to him?”

“Are you peeing right now?” Portia asks, to which I respond, “When your spawn sits on your bladder, you won’t care whose listening or watching, so long as you get your ass to the toilet in time. That’s my first pregnancy tip for you. Congrats by the way. You guys deserve a big family.”

You can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Thanks, Jer, and sorry for not telling you sooner. That scare with you at Marcus’s shop made me want to wait twelve weeks before telling anyone.”

“How far?”

“Eight weeks along. And I don’t think Lock was looking for permission; Cooper said he was earning his respect.”

“Are you telling me you didn’t eavesdrop?” I ask her.

“Of course I did, for at least half an hour. But when my ass started to go numb from sitting in the hallway for so long, I went to bed.”

“Hmmm. So did you garner any useful info from your thirty-minute stakeout, or should I go ask Locklin myself? You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

She’s quiet for a moment and then says, “I’m going to say one thing, Jer, and that’s hear him out. I know you said you don’t want to talk to him, but holy shishkabob, the man has a way with words. And if he says even half to you of what he said to Cooper, then I think you might have a change of heart.”