Explosive (The Black Opals) (5 page)

“Yes, you can.”
His finger drifted closer to her soaked opening.

“No.”
With more strength, she pushed again. “I won’t do this without Brice.”

S i x

B
rice.

With one single utterance, all the desire that blistered through Jayce’s veins turned to jagged shards of ice.
He drew back from Alyssa, certain his hearing had failed. “What?”

Alyssa straightened her shirt and tugged her skirt back down over her thighs.
She pointedly avoided eye contact, letting her silence fill in all the gaps.

“I don’t fucking believe this.”
Shoveling both hands through his hair, Jayce took another step away from her. Brice—not that she didn’t want to fuck
him
, she just refused to do so solo? Since when had she become addicted to threesomes?

He shot her a scathing look. “I get
no
, Alyssa. You don’t want to fuck me? Fine. But don’t make excuses. Stuff them away with the rest of the shit you won’t tell me. Like what the hell happened to us.” He stalked toward the door, unable to escape fast enough, but couldn’t resist a parting jab. “While you’re at it, you should clue loverboy in on what nearly just happened between us. I doubt he’d agree with your variety of faithfulness.”

“Brice and I have an…arrangement.”

Her quiet voice stopped him for a nanosecond. But when the words connected with his brain, he scoffed in disdain. “So you can fuck who you want so long as he’s there? How perfect for you.”

She slammed a stack of papers onto her desk.
“It’s not like that, Jayce.”

“Then what
is
it like, Alyssa?” He should go—this argument wasn’t going to solve the mountains that lay between them. But no matter how he told himself that, he couldn’t step the rest of the way through the doorway. Nor could he stop himself from goading her on. “Way I see it, either you’ve got McTavish pathetically wrapped around your little finger, or you’re afraid I’ll corner you with uncomfortable pillow talk.”

The shaky way her fingers fumbled with her papers told him he’d come close to the mark.
Maybe a bit too close. Was she
afraid
to be alone with him? The thought stuffed an uncomfortable knot into the back of his throat. He could think of no possible reason for her fear, save one. That if he got her talking, she’d confess she’d terminated her pregnancy.

Jayce shoved the thought aside.
He’d find out one way or another. But not at the rate he was going. Throwing insults would only earn him her hate. Besides, she was more likely concerned about what sort of obligation he expected from her when he left. No worries there—she’d already made it perfectly clear what she
didn’t
want from him.

“Look, I leave in four days.
I’m not inviting McTavish to my bed. But if you decide you want me, he’s got my number.” He pivoted toward the door once more then glanced over his shoulder. “One night, Alyssa. That’s all I want.”

One night to replace the memories he couldn’t escape.

Shaking his head at the disparity of it all, he stalked out the door. What a damned fool he was. McTavish wasn’t the one wrapped around her little finger, not by a long-shot. She’d moved on without so much as a backward glance on the dreams they’d shared. And here he was, a glutton for punishment, chasing after her like a dog on the scent of a bitch in heat.

Hurting all over again with her rejection.

At his car, he climbed behind the wheel and dropped his head onto the headrest. By now, he should be accustomed to the pain of longing that resided behind his ribs. But being near her was like injecting heroine—dangerous and alluring. He couldn’t say no, couldn’t walk away, no matter how she tore him into pieces.

His cell phone vibrated from the console, and with a harassed sigh, Jayce leaned forward to read the text.

Still looking at the house, right? I’ll pick up beer.

Jayce stared at the blinking cursor that followed McTavish’s message.
Inspect
their
house. Pretend he knew security systems like the back of his hand. More tangled lies. He’d give his thumbs to say no. To go back to Jordan’s, take her out to a movie, and forget today. But he’d given McTavish his word. If he weaseled out of inspecting their security system today, he’d have to deal with the promise tomorrow. On Saturday, when Alyssa wouldn’t be cooped up in her office.

This
vacation
couldn’t end soon enough.

Jayce tapped in a response.
Gotta make it quick. Have plans with Jordan tonight.
Another lie, but who was keeping track? It was certainly a damn sight better than the one he was about to execute, that of pretending he hadn’t just crossed boundaries with McTavish’s girl.

Grumbling, Jayce tossed his cell onto the console and dropped the pickup into reverse.
He’d lived a lot of falsehoods since he became a Black Opal, but not one had ever weighed on his conscious like this. He would have to look McTavish in the eye, knowing all the while that he’d just betrayed the one person, aside from Alyssa, who had always been there for him.

* * *

Alyssa sat behind her desk, unable to see the ledger she held in her hand. The sheen of tears gathered in her eyes turned the numbers into illegible squiggles. One night…Jayce asked for one night when one entanglement with him had been life-changing. Hell, she could hardly look at children on television anymore. All she saw was the child she’d lost and the men who’d taken him. Now, Jayce wanted her to go back to the place of happiness before then, before she’d stupidly ignored his warning and gone to that damned bonfire.

She dropped her head into her hands to stave off the threatening memories.
Voices hovered at the edge of her mind. Sounds she’d learned how to suffocate with the help of Brice’s steadfast friendship. But they rose in the aftermath of Jayce’s presence, the brutal remarks as terrifying as the darkness that had engulfed her ten years ago. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“You can’t hurt me.
I’m stronger than this.” Alyssa spoke to drown out the horrific noise. She set her jaw and lifted her head. “I have nothing to be afraid of.”

Nothing other than losing her heart, which had never really given up on Jayce.

She owed it to Jayce to explain. To justify the pain that flashed behind his eyes when he threw her silence in his face. But it had taken her years to overcome the way her parents faulted her for the barbarous rape. Years to rise above the shame, the nightmares, the haunting sobs of another girl subjected to the simultaneous torture. What if Jayce blamed her as well?

In some portion of her heart, she knew he wouldn’t.
But the larger portion, the part that had been subjected to the betrayal and humiliation of her parents, screamed in warning. She’d refused to listen to Jayce’s insistence that she not attend the party. He’d been miles away, and she lonely beyond all reason. All she’d wanted was a little entertainment, a few hours of laughter to make the remaining weeks before she could join him easier.

How could she have known her graduation gift would be a hospital bed and the distant memory of a boy’s frightened observation:
Dude, she’s bleeding. You better call an ambulance or something.

As a tear slipped down Alyssa’s cheek, she choked back the riptide of memories.
This was exactly why she couldn’t get tangled up with Jayce. Going back to him meant going back to everything else. And everything else she’d worked too hard to overcome.

She swiped at her eyes and squinted at the ledger.
Pulling in a deep breath, she flipped open the pages and ran a finger down the column of figures. Right now, Parker was in trouble. Judging from the insistence of the cops, that subpoena would be here tomorrow morning. Before it arrived, she wanted to review the ledgers again. Double-check for errors in case her work was called into question. If James Parker was going down, she didn’t intend to go down with him. And if her calculations were incorrect, she wanted to be prepared for interrogation.

She couldn’t,
wouldn’t
, alter the books now. But at least she’d know what to expect. Though she was positive the prosecution wouldn’t find errors on her part.

While she was at it though, she ought to get together all the bank statements he mailed, all the emails he sent.
And those were all in storage in her house, away from the office in case one of Brice’s connections to the mob went sour.

Alyssa shoved the ledger and the fat file folder into her briefcase and snapped it shut.
With a soulful sigh, she pushed away from her desk and stood. Now the office would hold memories of Jayce, just like everything else. Her one place where everything was predictable. Damn him.

She left the office quickly, pausing on the front step to set the alarm and habitually lock the damaged deadbolt.
The surrounding silence settled into her awareness. Warily, she looked around. If someone was watching the place, waiting for the opportunity to finish the break-in, she was a sitting duck. A chill drifted down her spine.

Stop it.
You’re being ridiculous. It’s just irrational fear.

She refused to let some random crook scare her away from her work.
Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath. She’d go home, have a glass of wine, and soak in a hot bath. Relax. Unwind. Then she’d finish cataloguing the Anderson’s dividend reports. Once she had that squared away, she could afford some time to herself to consider how to convince Jayce into believing she truly wanted him, but couldn’t breech that territory alone.

As she dug through her purse for her car keys, the upbeat electronic notes from her cell phone announced an incoming call.
She fished out the device, squinted at the unfamiliar number. Frowning, she answered, “Alyssa Martin.”

“Alyssa, so good to catch you.
This is Harold Bryer. We met at Parker’s Christmas party last year.”

Oh, God.
The slimeball of the century. Parker’s lawyer was a true snake in the grass if she’d ever met one. Alyssa wrinkled her nose. “What can I do for you, Mr. Bryer?”

“I just wanted to touch base with you.
I spoke to Parker briefly today. I’m sure you’re aware of his situation.”

“Mm-hm.”
She tucked the phone against her shoulder and continued toward her car.

“I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

“What page would that be?”

His chuckle gave her the willies.
It rasped like some ghostly touch from beyond. She grimaced as she opened her car door. A package of gum lay in her seat. She tossed it aside with a mutter. Damn that Brice—if he didn’t stop leaving trash in her car when he drove it, she was going to hide her keys. He was lucky the gum hadn’t melted or she hadn’t sat in it.

“The page of full disclosure, of course,” Bryer continued as if he referenced some world secret.

“Full disclosure? I don’t follow.”

“You tell me everything you know, everything you
think
you know, and every fucking thing you don’t have a clue about. Then we’re going to get together and come up with the
correct
documents to give the D.A.”

Stunned, Alyssa dropped into the driver’s seat, eyes wide, jaw slack.
She snapped her mouth closed and shook her head to dislodge her stationary thoughts. Oh. Hell. No. James Parker’s freedom wasn’t worth her career. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Bryer, my records are as confidential as yours. Until I have written word from James Parker, granting me permission to share his accounts, I won’t discuss them with you at all.”

“Parker was worried you might say that.
If you’ll drop by my office this afternoon, I’ll supply you with a written statement.”

Damn.
So much for getting out of this easily. She glanced around the surrounding emptiness as another shiver crawled down her spine. “No. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I’m afraid you aren’t understanding what I’m saying, Alyssa.
This isn’t a suggestion.” A hint of malice laced through his words. “My job is to protect my client. I will do so, with or without your help.”

Her jaw dropped again.
This wasn’t happening. She was not sitting in her car listening to her employer’s attorney tell her to alter financial records. Or anything remotely similar. “I will
not
go to jail for James Parker. Nor will I throw away my career to save his hide.”

“Be careful, Alyssa.
I’d hate to see your sense of moral obligation lead to unfortunate events.”

The hair on the back of her neck lifted.
Possessed by the unexplainable feeling she was being watched, she twisted in her seat to look at the office. Then the long manicured lawn. The thick trees beyond. Anyone could be hiding there. Watching. Waiting for the opportunity to carry out Parker’s commands, and she’d never be the wiser. Her pulse stuttered.

“Are you threatening me, Harold?”

He laughed again, a hearty sound that concluded with the same vile chuckling. “I am merely advising that it would be in your best interests to make sure the D.A. doesn’t get his hands on those files.”