End of Day (Jack & Jill #1) (43 page)

Kelly shook her head at Gabe as Jessica held the finish line tape above her head. Her grin was wicked.

Luke’s grin was knowing. “That’s my girl!” Luke yelled, picking up his pace to a weak jog. He bear-hugged her, swinging her in a circle. “You’re so damn incredible.” He kissed her until his lungs demanded air again.

Jessica didn’t need the medal, the tape, or the money.
“That’s my girl!”
was all she needed and the adrenaline rush she got from those three words exceeded anything she felt during the race.

“No way … not possible.” Gabe looked to Kelly for confirmation.

“Sorry, babe … she played both of us.”

Gabe slumped, resting his hands on his knees. “Three. Thousand. Dollars.”

“What?” Kelly questioned. “Two.”

Gabe shook his head. “We upped it … just before the start of the race.

Jessica looked up at Luke, who was smirking behind the mouth of his water bottle. “Fifty-fifty split, Jones,” she warned.

Luke laughed. “Take it all. You earned it. That…” he gestured to the ugly defeat morphing Gabe’s face “…that’s all I needed.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the tents in search of some energy. “I had complete faith in you, but I’m not going to lie … when you held up that tape I nearly fell to my knees in awe of you. That’s … impressive.”

“Truth?” Jessica looked up at him.

“Yeah, what?”

“The course, the wind, my recent distraction from training…” she narrowed her eyes at him “…it all kicked my ass today. I stopped counting how many times I thought I was going to die. And those women who were on my heels the entire time … they wanted it. They wanted it more than me.”

“Yet you still finished first.”

She turned into his embrace as they stood in line. “I finished first for you, not me.”

Knight

L
ilith stared at
Jillian with her head slightly tilted, eyes glazed in a dream state. After a few moments of silence, she blinked from the realization that story time was over for the day.

“I get chills every time you tell me about Luke.” She sighed with a wistful smile. “I’m living vicariously through you and life is good.”

They both laughed.

“You took first place in a triathlon. That’s amazing.”

Jillian nodded. “The only first place medal I ever took. I wasn’t lying to him. It was excruciating, but I wanted him to be proud of me because there was just so much that I’d done that was not worthy of his respect. It’s a cliché, but he made me want to be a better person. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so black and white. The mind is too complicated and emotions, impressions, and feelings are stronger than anything. I couldn’t just flip the switch and declare myself cured. Jessica Day’s past will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

Lilith gave her a sad smile. “Tell me about Sarge.”

Jillian grinned, trapping her lower lip between her teeth like a ridiculously giddy teenager. “What can I say? He’s sexy, intense, overwhelming, grumpy as hell most days, and stuck in either an emotional or physical war with his past on a daily basis.”

“So you’re crazy about him?”

Jillian squinted one eye. “You already know I’m ‘crazy.’”

“Oh stop it, dear. You are not.”

“It’s hard to say. I like him … a lot. The sex is …”

Lilith’s eyes grew big as Jillian winked at her.

“Anyway, the problem is … Jillian’s having trouble letting Jessica go, or maybe Jessica’s angry with Jillian for trying to move on. I don’t know yet. AJ reminds me, almost on a daily basis, that he’s not my Prince Charming, which is fine because I don’t own any glass slippers.”

Lilith smiled.

“So it’s hard to assess what we are to each other. I think whatever it is we have works
because
we’re both messed-up, not in spite of it.”

“Sounds tragic or perfect.”

Jillian huffed a small laugh. “It is … it’s perfectly tragic.”

*

The double standard
in regard to the Knights was entirely too 1970’s-ish. If Jillian showed off her body she was a home-wrecking whore, but when Jackson beached out in the sun smack-dab in the middle of the driveway wearing only a pair of low-hanging shorts, flaunting his musclebound, tattooed body to all the women, it was completely acceptable.

“Have you dealt with the Lilith issue?” Jackson asked, not bothering to open his eyes as the sun kissed his body.

“It’s a non-issue.”

“So did you go with accidental drug overdose or will she be labeled ‘missing’ indefinitely under the unsolved mysteries file?”

“You really lost your scruples along the way, didn’t you?”

“We’re trained in survival, sister-dearest, not in baring our souls over tea and cookies.”

“She’s not going to say anything.”

“You willing to bet your life on it?”

“Yes.” She headed toward the front door.

“You willing to bet
my
life on it?”

She stopped. The stab hurt, it always did. Jackson carried around this I-love-you-more-than-you-love-me attitude and trying to prove him wrong was exhausting. Declaring it a lost cause, she continued inside. As she kicked off her shoes, her phone buzzed with a text. She pulled it from her back pocket.

Mark 13:32-33

“What the hell?” she whispered to herself.

The sender was unknown. No name. No number. No further explanation.

The door opened behind her. “Ike Turner just pulled in his drive,” Jackson jabbed.

“How are your testicles today?”

He squeezed by her, covering his junk.

“That’s what I thought, so just
shut it
about AJ.”

He tugged on his shirt. “You look confused.”

She nodded. “Mark 13:32-33?”

“
But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels in Heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Take heed, watch and pray; for you do not know when the time is.
”

Jackson never missed a Sunday. As long as God turned a blind eye to his sexual indiscretions, it was possible her brother was worthy of the cross he wore on his arm.

“Did you see an unusual clearing in the clouds?” He laughed.

She shook her head and held up her phone.

“What’s that?”

“A text?”

“From whom?”

She stared at him and shrugged. He grabbed her phone, clicking from one screen to the next.

“Everything’s traceable.”

“What do you think it means?”

His brow furrowed deeper with frustration at her phone. “Biblically speaking?”

“I don’t think it’s a reminder text from our childhood pastor. So no, not biblically speaking.”

“Then I don’t know. Dammit! Fucking phone.” He tossed her phone back to her. “I’ll call Knox. They’re monitoring our phones.”

“Great. Just what I need, another big brother butting in on my business.”

“Don’t forget,
Sis
, how hard your big brothers work to keep you alive.”

“You know what I mean.” She walked toward the bedroom. “I’m going for a ride.”

“Super … great. I’ll just be here doing what I do best. Keeping you alive.”

Jillian changed into her jeans and black boots then grabbed her leather jacket. “Did you reach Knox?”

“I did.” His fingers tapped over the keyboard to his computer.

“And?”

“And he said he’d look into it.”

She zipped up her coat. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

He looked up at her. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. Tell me.”

He blew out a long breath. “You’re just messed-up.”

“Agreed. Is that it?” She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets.

“It’s not that I don’t get it. We were trained to deal with a lot and nobody could have predicted that you’d watch your friend die the way she did. Every fucked-up part of your brain is completely justified in my opinion. But lately I question your decisions: AJ, your reckless trip to Portland, sharing information with Lilith that you weren’t supposed to tell anyone ever again, and now this text that honestly scares the shit out of me. Yet you don’t want to worry about it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know … just be careful. Okay?”

“I will,” she answered in a small voice. Moving behind him she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

He squeezed her arm.

*

Jillian needed the
wind and miles of open road to let her thoughts fall away into oblivion. She pulled on her helmet and threw a leg over her Harley.

“Want some company?”

She turned. “Aric James.” Her eyes smiled more than her lips.

“Rough day?”

“What makes you ask that?”

He moved to the front of her Harley, resting his hands on the handle bars. “You call me Aric James when you’re feeling vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable?” She was vulnerable—vulnerable to his earlier questioning about Trigger, Matthew Green.

“Yes. It’s usually when I’m inside you.” His gaze moved over her body and for a brief moment she could
feel
him inside her. “But sometimes you say it like a prayer, and I think it’s when your emotions begin to consume all your strength.”

Like in that exact moment. It was in her mind, all coincidence. AJ read the paper every day, of course he would mention Trigger’s death at the same rest stop. It didn’t mean anything more. How could it?

“Get on.”

“Scoot back.”

“My bike. I’m driving.”

“I’m not riding bitch behind you.”

“You are.” She shoved his hands away and gripped the handle bars.

“If I’m on the back now, you’re on bottom later.”

“You’re being presumptuous that there’s going to be a later.”

“You put my face in a headlock between your legs this morning and
begged
me not to stop, and two seconds ago you called me Aric James. I’m pretty sure there’ll be a later.”

AJ had this gritty, almost angry confidence that was most likely mistaken as arrogance by anyone who couldn’t see past it to the raw vulnerability he hid beneath the surface.

“Move back,” he repeated.

“So I’m supposed to ride bitch?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you are my bitch.”

Jillian laughed, a lot. “I love when you sweet talk me. It makes me very wet for you.” It wasn’t a lie. Pathetic? Maybe. She relinquished her spot by scooting back.

He hopped on.

“Have you ever driven a motorcycle before?”

He brought it to a roaring start and had them zipping out of Peaceful Woods in a matter of seconds. She had her answer. It felt oddly reminiscent of his tongue dragging along a certain area of her body earlier that morning—controlled, arousing, and irresistibly sexy.

AJ gave her a tour of the city beyond what she’d received on her “date” with Cage. She felt like a tourist. Omaha wasn’t home. She could live there for the next fifty years and it would never be home. Her home … her heart would always be in San Francisco.

They chased the sunset back to Peaceful Woods two hours later. AJ parked in her garage. Even after he killed the engine, she held on to him.

“Are you asleep?” he asked without making any sudden movement.

Smart guy.

“Mmm … no, but you feel perfect hugged to my chest.”

He peeled her arms off his waist. She groaned then slid off the back.

“You going to win me a new car too?” He gestured to her Mercedes.

“Will it earn a more favorable opinion of my job from you?” She pulled off her helmet.

“Not likely.”

“Then I think my next bonus will go to Jackson. He supports my profession.”

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t. He chose it.”

The pained please-tell-me-you’re-bullshitting-me look was worth revealing that minor detail that wasn’t intended to ever be shared.

“You both need to be committed.”

She snaked her hands up his back, resting her forehead on his chest. “Shh … don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to scare off Brooke and her family when they come next week.”

He pulled away. “What are you talking about?”