Jarrett bit back a curse. At least he wasn’t the only fuck up.
The DEA raided the Consuelo villaafterthe masterminds had fled. Now Social Services had their kids, and the feds were interrogating their women. So much for loving and protecting their families. With enough pressure, those wives, mistresses, and maids would sing like canaries at dawn to see their kids again.
Ackermann clicked his tongue. “Anyway, my top priority is tracking the kingpin’s whereabouts.”
“Mine, too, until you told me to get out of town.”
“Don’t start that shit again. Getting you to a safe house is in your best interest.”
“I’m used to death threats, all right? I shouldn’t be hiding like a coward.”
“This is bigger than anything you’ve ever faced. We need your testimony for when Consuelo goes to trial, so we couldn’t chance to leave you out in the open.”
“Yeah, fine. Listen, I gotta go. If anything happens, I’ll call you.” He ended the call to save his eardrums from more bitching. What a damn mess.
After his pretense of an arrest, he’d debriefed the Albuquerque office before returning to his home base of San Francisco. The hit on his life went viral, prompting the DEA to stash him in a swanky hotel room. As Ackermann organized the safe house, Jarrett checked up on his family, homesick after so long.
He tightened his grip on the cell. He couldn’t give Marissa his number—the phone wasn’t even his.
One of his armed guards had thrust the prepaid burner in his hand after taking him to a private storage unit to get his stuff.
Only his bike, weapons, and the clothes in his bags belonged to him. Detouring from Montana to Washington was stupid-as-fuck, but he couldn’t drive so close to home and not make peace with his brother. Some good that did. He’d screwed his brother’s widow and made his son cry. Jesus. How could he get out of this?
Jarrett shoved the phone in his pocket and stood to grasp the porch railing. Ah. Cold. He snatched his hands back and crossed his arms over his chest. Why hadn’t he grabbed his jacket before heading back outside? Weak sunlight pierced the dreary sky as the wind blew snowflakes from the towering mountains of the Cascade Range. What he wouldn’t do to actually go on a ski trip, preferably with Marissa?
Two snowmen in colorful hats and scarves guarded Marissa’s front yard like silent sentinels. Were the odd-shaped mounds protruding from the middle ball of the larger snowperson breasts? He laughed a little. The door banged open, jump-starting his heart.
His scowling father stalked down the stairs and toward the van in the driveway.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Mom.”
“I know.” Linda hugged him and kissed his cheek. “But it’s too late for boundaries.”
The vehicle chugged to life, and the horn blew.
Tempted to smile and wave goodbye to piss his dad off more, he grasped his hands behind his back instead. After his parents left, he headed inside. Ooh, nice. Heat wrapped around him. Where were Marissa and Jason? He hurried to the attached garage through a door in the cramped, messy laundry room. Marissa’s Jeep occupied the first spot, and he’d squeezed his bike into the second behind a riding lawnmower. He retrieved his heavy saddlebags and returned to the house.
She leaned against an old, off-white washing machine that had probably been Carol’s.
An apology burned on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t find his voice.
She shrugged as if in understanding and led the way upstairs. “Here you go.” She opened the door to the sewing room—now a guestroom—and stepped aside. “Help yourself to the fridge or TV whenever you want. The bathroom is down the hall—I’m sure you remember where. I’ll see you downstairs.” She left and closed the door behind her.
Jarrett tossed down the saddlebags. His jacket already hung on the back of a desk chair with his socks and backpack on the cushion. Damn, she shouldn’t have cleaned up after him. Did she dispose of the used condom? He sat on the edge of the four-poster bed and buried his face in his hands.
He should’ve known better than to agree to stick around for a few days. He’d intended to rent a room somewhere, see his parents when he had to, and make love to Marissa every chance he got. How could he have known Jason’s sad little boy routine would pin him down?
“Goddamn it, I’m screwed.” No matter what he did, he would hurt Marissa and her child. Better he leave sooner rather than later. But how could he escape without proving to Marissa that he really was a bastard?
****
Jarrett turned offthe television as footsteps thudded down the stairs. News of the DEA raid had spread across the nation, but the reported information barely scratched the surface of what happened in New Mexico. If Ackermann had his way, the truth would stay buried until the trial—that is, if the feds ever caught the missing kingpin to have a trial.
“Enough stalling.” Marissa stomped into the living room after she’d tucked Jason into bed. She plopped beside Jarrett on the teal-striped sofa. “Spill it. I want stories, facts, anything about the past ten years of your life. I deserve to know something since you’re staying here.”
Aw, shit. Tension knotted his back.
He hadn’t been alone with Marissa all day. Though he enjoyed playing video games with Jason, he would’ve preferred sex games with the kid’s mom. Hell, he’d jacked off in the shower since he couldn’t get her alone.
