Authors: SE Jakes
“Tanner’s still OUTCONUS himself, and Damon’s working that job for us in California—I don’t want to pull him off that,” Styx said as the phone rang, and the other men nodded.
“You’re going to have to give Damon that choice,” Law told him as Jace answered with a quick, “Hey.”
Without hesitation, Styx said, “He’s MIA.”
“I knew it. I’m going in.”
“By yourself? I don’t think so,” Styx told him. “Well all go with you.”
“And the CIA’s going to be happy about that?” Jace asked.
“I don’t worry about what makes the CIA happy anymore,” Styx said. “Right now, I’m most concerned with Clint’s happiness, and I know that revolves around you.”
“It might not anymore, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do anything I can to save him,” Jace said. “When are we leaving?”
Jace was packed and at the airport before any of them. He boarded the private plane Styx had chartered for them after checking in with the pilot, who explained that he was former Navy.
He tried to settle in for the long flight, but his nervous energy was buzzing through him. He dialed Clint’s special number again and left a message with the service, and because he had no idea if Clint was able to access his phone or if someone else was, he simply said, “It’s going to be like the first night we got together.”
Translation:
I’m coming to save your ass.
He clicked the phone off as the first of three men boarded.
“Hey, Jace, I’m Styx,” the tall, almost white-blond-haired man said. He turned and introduced Law and Paulo. “Law’s former Delta, and Paulo was a detective, and you know my deal.”
Jace shook the hands of the men he’d heard about many times before, wondered if he’d get the chance to be in a long-term relationship like them.
Except he had been. And now things were fucked beyond repair. If they hadn’t fought, maybe Clint wouldn’t have taken the job.
“Guilt isn’t a good look on anyone,” Styx told him.
“Trust him, he’s been there,” Law added, but he smiled when he said it.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Didn’t have to,” Styx said. “It’s written all over your goddamned face. And here I thought SEALs were supposed to be emotionless.”
“Ignore both of them,” Paulo told him, pushing past the two men to sit close to Jace. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt that was half opened to reveal a black tee underneath, and he shoved a big cammo bag down under one of the seats. He looked cool and collected, and Jace supposed he’d have to be to put up with the two other alphas.
I just need to find him.
Whatever else happens from there, it doesn’t matter
. Jace told himself that, over and over like he was making some kind of pact with the universe.
Let him be okay and I’ll let him go, won’t bother him anymore.
“Get him to relax and focus,” Styx told Paulo, pointing to Jace. “He’s too tightly wound to trust.”
“Yeah, look who’s talking,” Paulo muttered. “Get out of here.”
Styx listened, he and Law moving toward the front of the plane, leaving the two younger men to talk.
“He’s right, you know,” Paulo started. “I know it sucks to have to lay your life out to a complete stranger, but Clint’s talked about you a lot. I remember hearing about you when you first met.”
“Really?”
“He was all kinds of turned around,” Paulo said.
“He doesn’t trust me. I guess I can’t blame him. At first, I hoped it was like when Tomcat had to die and he just needed time before he could make calls. But no matter how pissed he was at me, he’d never do that again—let me think he was dead if it was part of a mission. It’s why he gave me the number.”
“Mind if I ask what happened?” Paulo asked.
Jace shrugged like it was no big deal, but he had a strange feeling Paulo could see right through him. “I lied to him about why I was hanging out with the Killers.”
He told Paulo the whole story, well aware they were all listening. “Kenny’s an idiot, but he’s the only family I’ve got.”
“Does Kenny know what you’re doing for him?” Styx called.
“No specifics. I just told him to shut up and pretend he was happy,” Jace said.
“Good.”
“The thing with Clint sounds like an argument that would’ve been solved if Clint hadn’t gone MIA,” Paulo mused.
“I’m not so sure, but that can’t stop me from going to find him.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
The thing that kept him going was the knowledge that Jace wouldn’t let him die. Clint didn’t know how he knew it, why he was so sure after he’d treated the boy like hell, but he knew.
All he had to do was wait. Shackled inside the old warehouse, beaten and left to die, he hadn’t. But they’d come back to check, and soon.
God, what a clusterfuck.
He turned, his head pounding, his vision blinded by a swollen shut eye and blood in the other. He checked that he could still feel his feet for the millionth time, and that reassured him somewhat.
He’d been sold out—and he knew by whom.
Sometimes the people you let into your life could be trusted, like Jace, and sometimes they couldn’t, like his current employer—Clint had certainly been worried about the wrong damned person. And he’d kill him with his bare hands if he could fucking get free from this place.
Things had gone fine at the start—the first week of the op, when he’d been working as the enforcer for hire for the Iraqi businessman who was really dealing arms, went smoothly, maybe too much so. Now he knew that he’d been sold out on a routine job bringing the man into Afghanistan for a top-secret government meeting.
After surviving two-plus years with one of the most dangerous MC clubs around, he would be damned if he was going to die at the hands of wannabe terrorists. All he had to do was believe that Jace was coming for him. If nothing else, this time he was sure Jace would run to him, not away.
“Look for his last known locale,” Styx said as Jace tore through the hotel room looking for anything that might possibly help them discover that.
Finally, he found the matchbook tucked into the mattress. An old spy trick, Clint once told him; something passed down from his father to him.
They’d been discussing how they’d find each other if no one else could. What clues they could leave. And while Jace had never settled on a good method for himself, Clint insisted he adopt this one.
Now, as he stared at the matchbook and the writing inside with the coordinates of Clint’s last meeting place, he swallowed hard as he realized that despite Clint’s harsh words, he had always believed Jace would be there.
He didn’t know where their relationship would go from here, but he did know he could save him.
“I know where he is,” Jace said.
He’d been here on a mission recently, within the past year, and the place hadn’t changed much, beyond getting more and more violent. Now, as he plugged the coordinates into the GPS just to be sure, he said, “There’s a series of abandoned warehouses on the north side of the city—we raided them and found bodies there. We never knew who they were, because the CIA swooped in and took over the case and never contacted us about it again.”
“Sounds like the agency,” Styx agreed.
“What are we waiting for?” Paulo asked impatiently. He was out the door with Jace close behind, Styx on their tail. And yeah, Jace agreed with that impatience, especially because he’d gotten a call hours earlier that he’d be needed within the next several days, which meant if he wasn’t back to base before then, he’d be considered AWOL.
Jace guided Law through the dangerous streets while Styx covered them with a waiting gun.
“Gotta get him out before night,” Law muttered. None of the streetlights worked. Good for them—better for the criminals.
“We will,” Jace said. “We’re close. Two more miles.”
There were over twenty-five buildings to search. Clint hadn’t been that specific, which was smart, although Jace was cursing him now for not giving a little more of a goddamned hint.
“Jace, you’re with me—Law, with Paulo,” Styx said. It was a risk leaving the car alone, but they needed to cover the space fast. And heavily armed, which they were.
Jace and Styx covered four buildings in the span of half an hour, and they’d found nothing. Same for Law and Paulo, according to their most recent check-in, and Jace tried to shove down his mounting frustration, because that would get them nowhere. He forced himself to remain calm, to forget how damned personal this was, because that’s when mistakes were made. And he stayed goddamned professional through another empty building and three quarters of the way through another before something caught his attention.
At first, he thought it might simply be the wind—but something told him to just stop and wait. When he did, hope began to take root again.
Styx was moving ahead, in the opposite direction from the noise, but Jace tugged at him, told him, “Wait.”
Styx did, and for a long moment, they just listened, both men barely breathing in hopes of catching a slight noise. A small groan along with the pull of a chain across the floor came from the north side of the building. “That’s got to be him.”
“Let’s move cautiously,” Styx told him, but Jace was beyond listening, beyond caution.
He sped into the room and found Clint on the floor, chained to an old metal radiator. There was blood everywhere, but Clint was alive. Bruised. Battered. But alive. And pissed.
“Hurry,” he rasped as Jace struggled with the locks on the chains.
“The tied man isn’t usually the one giving orders,” Jace muttered as he worked.
“Saved by the Navy…I’ll never hear the end of it,” Clint groaned.
“Never,” Jace told him, right before Clint passed out.
“Better this way,” Styx told him, then called to Law and Paulo.
“Tell them to bring a board,” Jace told him. “He’s moving his legs, but still.”
Styx nodded and they waited a tense few minutes until Paulo joined them with the board, saying, “Law’s waiting in the car.” Paulo helped Jace slide the board under Clint.
As much as Jace wanted to be the one to carry Clint out in his arms, he knew it wasn’t for the best. He stared down at the bruised face, thought about how long Clint had been here. Thanked God and everything else that the man had fought, that Jace had listened to his instincts, that he’d hopefully gotten here in time.
And then he prepared for the longest ride of his life—the one to the military hospital. They were in some dangerous territory, and bullets rang out even as they closed the door and the car sprang away from the curb, with Law doing some serious driving.
Styx and Paulo had their weapons out, and Styx was firing out the window. Clint kept fading in and out of consciousness but he didn’t say anything, just watched Jace, and Jace didn’t know what the hell to say to him.
I love you. Forgive me. Don’t fucking leave me again.
But he’d be damned if he could get any of the words out. Instead, he held Clint’s hand the entire way to the hospital, only letting go when the doctors put him on a stretcher and wheeled him back into an exam room.
“He’s going to be okay,” Styx told him roughly, and Jace nodded numbly.
“Just don’t let him be alone,” he heard himself say, and the next thing he knew, Styx was leading him back into the exam room, barking orders of his own, and Jace didn’t leave Clint’s side through any of the treatments that followed.
Clint woke and wished for a long second he hadn’t. The pain was helped by the morphine, but he hated being fuzzy and hurt at the same time. He wanted to think clearly and couldn’t, and he reached over to rip the IV out of his arm and realized he couldn’t.
The thought of being held down—bound—for any reason—made him angry. He turned his head to check out the restraint and saw that it wasn’t a rope—it was a hand, attached to a sleeping boy whose head was on the bed. His eyes were closed and there were deep circles under them.
“You’ve been here for seven days.” Styx’s voice came from the other side of the bed. “You’d been in the warehouse for two weeks—it’s a goddamned miracle you’re still alive.”
He shifted his head to look at his old partner and friend, who continued, “Jace called me and told me you were missing. He hasn’t left your side.”
Clint looked over at his hand, twined in Jace’s, a tight grip despite the boy’s sleep, like he was scared Clint would disappear if given the chance. “Scared the shit out of him again, didn’t I?”
Styx nodded. “And now you and I are even. But you still owe Damon and Tanner favors. Jace too, so cut him a break.”
Clint rolled his eyes, and just then, Jace stirred.
“I’ll leave you guys alone.” Styx walked out of the room, and Clint watched Jace go from sleep to instant awareness, courtesy of the SEAL team’s relentless training. The fact that Jace had been sleeping that deeply to begin with meant the stress had really gotten to him. That this was really personal.
“Hey,” Clint said quietly, afraid Jace would walk out if he said the wrong thing.