9. Hash Stash
9 HASH STASH
Lanie
Why did hospitals all seem to have the same interior designer? You’d think with the amount of doom and gloom they saw on the daily, they’d want to brighten the place up a bit. Maybe it went against some medical code of ethics to incorporate a splash of color amongst the gleaming white walls and floors. Christ, they even made the poor nurses get in on the action. I mean, what the hell? Black was arguably the more practical color, given the fact they dealt with every bodily fluid known to man. It would do a much better job of hiding the gore.
Seriously? Whose brilliant idea was it to make white the predominant color in a place that saw more blood than the Red Cross? Women get periods, you know?
“It was probably a man, honey,” the older lady steering my gurney said as she wheeled me into a tiny room.
Oh shit! I said that out loud.
“And you keep doing it, Lanie,” Noah pointed out, laughing outright while Waverly was at least nice enough to cover hers with a cough .
“I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth when I’m as high as a kite,” I huffed.
The older lady parked my ride just as another woman sauntered into the room pushing a metal cart. She was talking, but truthfully, I have no earthly clue what she was saying.
“Okay, Agent Biggs.” The doctor—at least I thought she was the doctor—addressed me. Dammit, I needed to pay attention. “I’m going to numb the area around your wound. You’ll feel a little pinch from the needle.”
“And who are you?” My mouth began to feel like it was stuffed full of cotton balls.
“She’s told you her name twice already, Lanie.” Noah chuckled, startling me. I’d somehow forgotten he and Waverly had accompanied me into the closet-sized room. They were both leaning up against the far wall, though Noah looked like he was itching to be at my side.
“Excuse me, Mister I’m Always Perfect.” I speared him with a glare, the room tilting a little to the left when I turned my head sideways on the pillow. “My morphine-muddled mind doesn’t remember the first two times.”
Damn drugs.
“Dr. Shepfield,” the lady holding the needle precariously close to my side replied. “But you can call me Barb.”
“Thank you, Barb.”
“Should we continue?”
“Wait! Are you even old enough to be a doctor?”
“Really, Lanie? Let the doctor do her job.” Waverly sounded partly exasperated, partly amused as she scolded me.
“What? She looks like she’s twelve.” My attention returned to the woman in question. “Sorry, Barb, but you do. ”
She smiled, a reassuring smile. “I’m thirty-seven. I’m definitely old enough.”
“Damn.” I whistled. “What skin care products do you use?”
“I’ll send you the link when we’re done.”
There was no more talk, she simply lowered her hand and stabbed me with the needle. Okay, stabbed may have been a stretch, but it sure as hell felt like more than the pinch she’d promised.
At the first sign of distress, Noah was there, holding me close until the blessed lidocaine dulled even the slightest twinge. He was the best distraction in the worst of circumstances. Between the cadence of his deep voice and the hushed words he whispered in my ear, I must’ve drifted off. The next thing I knew, Dr. Barb was hovering over me, pulling off her gloves.
“All finished. Eight stitches in total. Three on the inside, five on the outside. You were very lucky, Agent Biggs.”
Luck—in my opinion—hadn’t played a role in the last twelve or so hours, but I didn’t bother correcting her. Our time in the woods was well above her pay grade anyway. Since the drug-induced brain fog was starting to lift, my investigator instincts kicked into gear. Whoever shot at us was sloppy and inexperienced; definitely not a hired gun. No, this was personal.
“I’ll walk you out, Doctor.”
Waverly pushed off the wall and held the door wide for Barb. As I watched the two of them exit, I realized just how out of it I’d actually been. My boss, Special Agent in Charge Waverly Mitchell, was wearing black cargo pants, boots, and a black long-sleeve shirt. I’d never seen the woman in anything other than high-heels and power suits.
If I was into women, I’d do her .
“Jesus Christ,” Noah sputtered.
“What?”
“You really need to learn how to keep your inner monologue…inner.”
Well, shit.
“Sit your butt back down on the sofa, Alaina Lyn. I told you I’d get whatever you need.”
“I need to pee, Mom.” I didn’t. My bladder was bone dry, but I’d been left with no choice except to lie to the woman who gave me life. “How are you gonna do that for me?”
“There’s no reason to be crass.” She shook her head as I gingerly got to my feet.
Mom hadn’t stopped fussing since we got back from the hospital. First she cried and—since I’m a sympathetic crier—I broke down like a leaky faucet. Then she insisted I rest for the remainder of the day. Rest was one thing. Being treated like an invalid was another. I knew she only had my best interest at heart, but she was driving me to the brink of insanity.
What made matters worse was I didn’t have anyone around to run interference. Dad and Lee were just happy she hadn’t pulled them into her crazy, while Noah and all my so-called friends abandoned my ass so they could discuss a case I had every right to be a part of. Maybe that’s why I was snappy. If anyone should be deciding my fate, it was me. Or it could be the fact my pain meds were starting to wear off. Whichever it was, my destination was the same.
Hence, why I lied to Mom. And when I reached the doorway to the kitchen, I knew I’d made the right decision .
“Fuck you, Koen,” Noah growled.
“It might be the only way to get a confession. Just hear me out.”
“If I wanted to put your woman in danger, would you listen?”
“She wouldn’t be in any danger, Noah,” Koen implored. “We’d have eyes on her the whole time.”
“No way in hell.”
“ She is a highly capable FBI agent.” Taking two steps into the room, I crossed my arms over my chest, hiding the discomfort at the way the action pulled at my stitches. “How about you let me decide if something is worth the risk, Cowboy?”
“You’re supposed to be resting.” Noah pulled out the chair next to him, patting the foam cushion on the seat. He’d flipped from pissed off to sweet and caring on a dime. “Are you in pain?”
“It’s not a pleasant sensation.”
“Don’t be a hero. Take the meds, Lanie.” Duncan sat the orange prescription bottle in front of me along with a bottle of water, which magically appeared. I rolled my eyes as I popped one of the small white pills in my mouth, then swallowed a mouthful of water.
“That’s two, Little Lamb.” Noah said in that deep voice which made me wish we were alone and naked.
I was playing with fire, yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Grinning wide, I lit the match. “Two what?”
“Keep it up and you’ll find out.” He winked.
Frustrated and aching in more ways than one, I shifted my focus.
“What’s your idea, Koen?” His eyes flashed to Noah, like he was seeking permission. “Uh-uh. Talk to me, not him. ”
“Fine. We’re working off the assumption Jill Benson is behind the shots fired in the woods, right?”
I nodded my agreement. “If it’s not the Russians, she’s the only one who would make sense. Jill blames me for Beth’s death.”
“Then you should confront her. Get her to admit what she did.”
Dropping my head back on my shoulders, I closed my eyes and tried to reconcile the sweet woman who taught me how to bake snickerdoodle cookies alongside her daughter with the hateful human she’d turned into. Even with my gut telling me it was true, I desperately wanted to believe Beth’s mom wasn’t capable of committing the crimes we were accusing her of. One way or another, I guess we’d find out soon enough.
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I blew out a stuttered breath, then asked the person I respected above all others. “Waverly? What do you think?”
If I knew my boss the way I thought I did, she had a very clear opinion, despite the fact she’d kept quiet the whole time. Whether I’d like or agree with it was another story altogether.
“I wasn’t the one who was shot”—her emerald-green eyes went from me to Noah—“or shot at. This isn’t about whether or not you should confront Jill, because everyone in this room knows it’s going to happen. The real question is how you’ll handle the truth when it comes out.”
“What do you mean?”
“There were two reasons I made certain the FBI seized control of this case. The first is obvious. You’re my agents, my responsibility. Not to mention you mean more to me than my actual dysfunctional family. The second, well, it teeters the line between being legal and not-quite- illegal. Let’s just say I wanted to make sure you had options.”
“What options?” I asked.
“We’ll discuss those when the time comes.”
For a straight shooter, she was being all kinds of cryptic. It was unnerving. Noah and Koen must’ve felt the same if the look they exchanged meant anything. Whatever Waverly had up her sleeve, I was grateful she was on our side.
So far, we’d left my family in the dark about our suspicions; however, the last thing I wanted was to blindside them when shit went south. Jill was their friend, which placed them in a very precarious position.
“We need to sit down with your parents.” Noah leaned in, kissing my temple.
“You read my mind.”
While my team planned the op, my mind wandered to Beth. She was the real victim in all of this. The people who took her from us may have been brought to justice, but they never found a trace of the guy she communicated with online.
“I want to look into Beth’s case.”
The chatter around me stopped immediately.
“What’s that, Darlin’?”
“When we get back to Huntington, after all the hit man bullshit is sorted, I’d like permission to find the guy who set Beth up to be taken.”
“Granted.” Waverly nodded. “So long as there aren’t more pressing matters piling up on your desks. The government still signs your paychecks.”
“Excuse me.” Lee appeared in the doorway. “Could I have a minute with my sister?”
The kitchen cleared out instantly, except for Noah, who took his time making sure I was comfortable. The stare down he gave my brother as he exited was intense and full of meaning, even though no words were exchanged. It was hot as fuck and such an alpha thing to do. Or maybe it was a Dom thing. I’d have to remember to ask him later.
“What’s up?”
I tried to act casual, even though the butterflies in my stomach were causing a riot. Lee and I hadn’t had much of an opportunity to talk since my return. Sure, we spoke on the phone a few times a year, but he was my twin, my other half. Leaving him behind ripped a giant hole in my heart.
“You’ve made a good life for yourself.” Crossing the room, he took Noah’s seat. “You never would’ve had that here. Mom and Dad were right.”
Stunned, I opened my mouth to respond, except the words got stuck in the middle of my throat.
“I’m pissed.” He didn’t stop. “More at myself than anyone. I gave you up without a fight. We shared a womb for nine months, Little Bit. If that doesn’t scream lifetime commitment, I don’t know what does.”
“Leland, have you been getting into Dad’s hash stash again?”
“I’m being serious here.”
“Then stop being dense. We both made mistakes. Now we move forward.”
“Simple as that?”
“My life is complicated enough, Lee. I love you. End of story.”
“Love you too.”
Noa h
We waited five days until Lanie wasn’t taking more than Tylenol to manage her pain and she could move without wincing before deciding it was time. My personal preference would’ve been to hold off until her stitches came out the day after tomorrow, however, I was unsurprisingly vetoed by my entire team. To make matters worse, the local hotels were completely booked due to some romance book conference, which meant the yurt became overcrowded very quickly. The sooner we took care of business, the sooner we could head home. Neither of us had mentioned Huntington again since the ambulance, but I could tell we were on the same page.
Lanie was a bundle of nerves from the moment she woke up this morning. Honestly, it’d been the same every morning since the shooting. Even after we all sat down with her parents and Leland, the stress hadn’t faded. She was putting too much pressure on herself, holding too much inside. There was only so much I could do until she let me in.
Much like she had the past few days, Lanie disappeared after breakfast. Thankfully, I knew right where to find her. Sliding the large wooden barn door along the tracks, I entered the stables, finding my girl sitting on a bale of hay in front of her boy. Whiskey’s head was over the top of the gate, nudging at her arm, while Smoke whinnied from the stall next door. I made my approach slowly, even though she was looking straight at me.
“It’d take some doing, but if we clear out a half an acre of trees behind my house, there’d be plenty of room for a small barn and a pasture.”
“You wanna be a farmer now, Cowboy?”
She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Taking a seat next to her, I brushed several loose strands of hair behind her ear. Even gloomy, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
“Only if you do, Darlin’. Do you want to take him home with us?”
A sigh left her mouth. “It would be a dream, but I can’t separate him from Smoke.”
Palming her cheek, my thumb caressed the soft skin under her eyes. Watching her the past few days had been enlightening. When Lanie was with the horses, she was at peace. They calmed her spirit and stilled the restlessness.
“We’ll take them both. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
“Smoke isn’t mine.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then finally her lips. “Let me deal with the logistics.”
Sleep had been scarce for both of us, so I wasn’t surprised when she slumped against me. Our tanks had been running on empty and it was beginning to show. But here in the barn, the rest of the outside world melted away. Adulting didn’t exist among the horses and hay. We could breathe easily.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay in our little bubble forever. Responsibility was knocking at the door and that bitch was unyielding.
“This afternoon is going to be brutal,” she blurted.
“We can hold off for a few more days, Lanie. There’s no rush.”
“No, we’ve waited long enough. Besides, we’ve got a bunch of Russians to bring down and we can’t do that from here.”
“What can I do to make it easier on you?”
“Love me through it. ”
Shifting on the hay bale, I spread my thighs, pulled her between them, and wrapped her in my arms.
“That’s a given, Darlin’.”
Resting my chin on top of her head, I contemplated my next step. I’d thoroughly prepared for every contingency, complete with a plan A, B, and C. Every minuscule detail was carefully crafted in my head, yet there I was, going completely off-script as the words tumbled out of my mouth.
“Move in with me.”
“What?”
Her head whipped around, nearly colliding with mine. I seized the opportunity to swing her around to sit across my lap. This conversation needed to be face-to-face.
“You heard me.”
“You’re asking me to move in with you?”
“Asking implies I’m giving you the chance to say no.”
“Noah, you’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you.”
She rolled her gorgeous eyes. “And apparently corny. It’s too soon.”
There wasn’t an argument she could make I didn’t have an answer for. The last thing I wanted was to put more pressure on her already overburdened shoulders, but this was right. I felt it in my soul. Our future was inevitable.
“Says who?”
“We just started dating.”
“No, Lanie. We’ve just started living.”
The kiss started slow and sweet, then escalated into something primal. Teeth scraped. Tongues lashed. Our desperate moans bounced off the rafters. We were so hungry for each other; we almost didn’t hear the pounding on the barn door or Koen’s panicked shouts from outside .
“Yo. Get the hell out here.”
By the time we raced out the door and followed Koen to one of the lower fields, pandemonium had already ensued. At least I thought it had, considering there were more tits and asses flapping in the breeze than you’d see at a nudist colony.
“What the fuck?”
I could barely hear my own question over the loud sixties music, which started playing through the gigantic speakers set in each corner of the field. The entire community—by my calculation—was not only buck-ass naked, they were dancing badly while flying high on the ganja plane. And in the middle of it all were my future in-laws, toking on the biggest bong I’d ever seen.
“It’s April twentieth. Pot Day,” Lanie muttered. “How did I forget?”
None of us moved, nor did we look away. We couldn’t. It was like coming across a car accident on the side of the road; you were almost compelled to slow down and look. The introduction I had to Percy and Iris didn’t hold a candle to what was happening in front of us. I was going to either need therapy or a gallon of vodka to erase my memories when it was all said and done.
“Maybe they didn’t see us. Just slowly start backing away,” I suggested.
“Alaina!” Iris shouted, waving her arms above her head. “Come join us.”
“Too late.”
We all spun around quickly, putting our backs to the nudes like we’d been caught doing something bad. I would’ve laughed if I hadn’t been trying to keep my breakfast from reappearing.
“Fuck my life.” Lanie’s face turned six different shades of red.
“Yeah, Alaina,” Koen sputtered. “Why don’t you?—”
“Finish that sentence and you’ll have to drink your meals through a straw for the next three months.”
“Jeez, Noah. It was a joke, man.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Should I get Waverly and Duncan? This kinda screws our plans for later.”
“Absolutely,” I said at the same time Lanie emphatically replied, “No.”
“There’s no reason to involve them in the”––she jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the crowd––“Mary Jane menagerie going on.”
“Too late,” Duncan grunted, as he and our slack-jawed RAC trudged out of the woods, coming off the path which led to the yurt. “There are some things you can’t unsee.”
“Right? This fresh hell is right up there with the time I walked in on my parents gettin’ busy.” Koen shuddered.
“Thanks for that image, dick,” I grumbled. “I’ve met your mom.”
“Anytime.” He beamed.
Waverly strode toward us, leaning up against the fence on the other side of Lanie. We were getting to see a much different side of our boss since their arrival. Back in Huntington, much of her time was spent behind closed doors in meetings or on calls with someone whose identity was above my pay grade. Don’t get me wrong, she was damn good at her job. I’d seen her verbally wipe the floor with a dirty politician or two, but I’d never witnessed her in action in the field.
“I didn’t think it was possible, but your family ranks right up there next to mine with their outlandish behavior.”
Lanie went to reply, but was cut off by the sound of flesh hitting flesh and a blood-curdling scream. We spun around, trying to find the source, which didn’t take long.
“Oh my fucking God. What the hell does she think she’s doing?”
Lanie didn’t wait for a reply. She took off, and we were right behind her, heading straight toward the center of the field where her mom shoved a bloodied Jill Benson backward. No one tried to stop her, in fact, Percy was clearing the way.
“Iris, you’ve got it all wrong.” The woman wiped a drop of blood from her lip.
“The FBI knows you tried to kill my baby, but I’m gonna get my licks in before they arrest you.”
“Well, shit. The jig is up,” Koen deadpanned.
Iris drew her fist back, except Lanie got there first, putting herself directly between them. I was seriously gonna redden her ass this time.
“Mom, knock it off. You’ve been hitting the bong a little too hard.”
“Move, Alaina.” She juked left, but my girl saw it coming a mile away, tagging her around the waist.
“Christ, can I get a little help here, Dad?”
Percy didn’t budge, although he did blink his glassy eyes a few times as if he was trying to clear his vision.
Iris slipped out of Lanie’s hold which—considering she was still naked—was easy to do. She lunged, taking Jill to the ground where the two of them began rolling around.
“That’s okay, you boys stay here and enjoy the show. I’ll help Lanie.”
Waverly rolled up her sleeves, joining the melee. No more punches were thrown and within a few minutes, she and Lanie were able to separate the other two women.
“Sit there and don’t move. Either of you.” Lanie winced when she turned my way.
Fuck, I was an asshole on two fronts.
First, she had stitches. She shouldn’t have been tussling with anyone. Second, I was half hard after watching her corral her mother like a prized pig. It was sexy as fuck. Sure, I could have helped, but in my defense, two of the four women were in their birthday suits. As a man, it would’ve been highly inappropriate for me to go hands-on. At least that was the excuse I was gonna give Lanie later when she chewed my ass out.
“That was like the hippie version of Girls Gone Wild ,” Koen cracked up. Duncan and I joined him, because…well, he was right.