10. The Middleman
TEN
THE MIDDLEMAN
JACKSON
“If it hadn’t been for you administering CPR, Mike wouldn’t be here,” the doctor tells me as he steps away from the hospital room and catches sight of me standing in the hallway. His eyes drift to Gigi at my side and then back. “That’s two lives you’ve saved, Jackson. Quite the hero. Love Beach is fortunate to have you.”
I offer a single nod as he departs before turning back to the window. Next to Mike’s bed, his wife clutches his hand while he hangs his head in guilt, and Davis is there probing for details about the attack.
Everything that happened at the dock is a blur now. I’m not normally rattled, but tonight when I dove in to retrieve Mike, the water was pitch black. For a split second, fear gripped me. Never before has that happened to me.
I recovered quickly, got him out of the water, and after I coaxed Mike’s breathing back to life with CPR, we waited for the ambulance. He cried like a baby and confessed his role—with Gigi as a witness. I guess knocking on death’s door was a sign for him to admit everything. In truth, he’s merely a middleman among figures who hide in the shadows.
When certain club members discreetly inquire, he passes their details on with a burner phone to an anonymous number. He leaves his message, and a day later, someone wires funds into his offshore account. Initially approached in secret, this arrangement has been fattening his bank account for years. It was a clever setup—until now. The sight of Mike’s heartbroken wife makes it clear that his actions have nearly destroyed his family.
“What will happen to him?” Gigi asks, tightening her coat around her, while my clothes, dry now, reek of fish.
“He may have played a small part in all this, yet someone intended for him to be silenced.” First Gigi, now Mike? These people will stop at nothing. “They might still come after him and his family. But now he’s a key witness. It’s up to Davis and the local authorities if they will give his family full protection. He’ll have to answer for his involvement, but his cooperation could earn him a lighter sentence.”
Davis steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Anything new?” I ask, hoping he might offer a name or any detail that could further the investigation.
He shakes his head and begins. “Mike mentioned that you two scared him when you spoke at the bar, so he left a message from the burner phone. He got an anonymous text telling him to meet someone at the dock. When he did, an attacker ambushed him from behind, putting him in a sleeper hold, and attempted to drag him toward a waiting truck. He struggled free briefly, and heard people approaching. Like you, Gigi, his assailant hit him on the head with the butt of a gun, knocking him out. We figure the attacker must have shoved him into the water.” He finishes, but then adds, “Oh, he also mentioned an odd detail. While he struggled with the attacker, he felt a prominent scar on one wrist.”
“A scar…” Gigi whispers, her brows stitched together.
Davis gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Thanks to you being there when you were, he’s still alive, Jackson.”
I sigh and glance once more through the window at Mike, suddenly exhausted. Being a hero, saving lives, drains my energy. “You’ll have men posted here all night until my people arrive to take him?”
“Already handled. Go home and get some rest and a shower. You’ve earned it. We’ll talk more in the morning.” He cocks his head and arches a brow at Gigi. “Do you want to stay the night with me and Belle or…?”
A silent look passes between Gigi and me, filled with unspoken questions. Her eyes beckon me down a very tempting path. After one taste of her lips, if she stays with me, I won’t be able to resist her.
“I-I think I’ll stay with Jackson and make sure he’s okay overnight. After all, I owe him for watching over me.” The curve of her lips might bring about my ruin.
“Okay then. You two are adults, so I guess you know what you’re doing.” He adds, “Although Belle will be jumping to conclusions if I tell her. Or should I keep this quiet for now?”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” she stammers. “It’s um?—”
Before she can finish, I press my lips to hers, holding them for a few seconds before whispering, “It is what it is, G.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll keep this to myself, for now. Otherwise Belle could get so excited about the two of you together, she could go into early labor. See you in the morning.” He chuckles as he heads down the hall.
“You kissed me again.” Gigi bites her lip, and there are all those questions in her eyes I figured would be there.
“Yeah. I did. Can I do it again?” I lean in, but she stops me, landing both her hands on my chest.
“The first one by the boat took me by surprise. And as much as I liked it, it was less, well, fishy. You really need a shower.” She wrinkles her nose, then reality washes over her face. “Besides, Jackson, we shouldn’t start something we can’t finish.”
“Who says I can’t finish? Darlin’, I could have you screaming my name in a dozen languages by morning.” Even in my exhaustion, the thought of taking her to bed sends a fresh jolt of adrenaline coursing through me.
“You know what I mean.” She shakes her head. “I can’t be one of those women you leave behind when you go off on a new mission to God knows where. I’m sorry. Now let’s get you home and into the shower, soldier.”
“And by getting me into the shower, you mean just me. Alone.” I shove my hands into my back pockets to stop myself from carrying her off in my arms in classic hero fashion, begging her with my eyes.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she protests, raising a hand to hide the effect of my gaze. “I’ll make dinner for you while you shower, if it’s any conciliation?”
While I’d give anything for her to join me in that shower, her message comes through loud and clear. For now.
I yearn for her more than ever. To hold her in my arms. To sleep with her. To feel a sense of normalcy compared to my military lifestyle. I returned to Love Beach because of this mission, but something has clicked between us. I’ve grown to care deeply for her.
My entire identity until now has been built on being able to leave at a moment’s notice, to immerse myself in whatever my command needs of me… and to be expendable if a mission fails. I’ve handled it all bravely—until tonight.
Something gripped me when I jumped in to retrieve Mike. Submerged in the black inky water at the Yacht Club on the moonless night, for a moment, I lost it when fear got a hold of me with one thought—what if I don’t make it back to Gigi on the dock? I almost left Mike behind to return to her, scuttling my mission.
That’s what having someone to care for does, and it scares the crap out of me. A real future together with Gigi is a possibility. She brings out the best and worst in me. She challenges me like no other woman. Makes me feel things I don’t want to feel but long to. This possessive side of me yearns to have her, needy and greedy—and leaves me vulnerable to attack.
Over dinner, I work hard at being a good boy, keeping my hands off of her. She fries up some steaks and manages to make a nice meal of it with what little I have in the fridge.
To make things worse, we actually talk without arguing, and I laugh until my face hurts from smiling at her so much. It only adds to my fantasies about her, which usually consist of angry fucking her against a door, but now include taking her to my bed and making love to her all night long. Or forever.
My throat constricts. Too many feelings tackle me at once. Torn between my usual badass life of undercover work or revealing myself as a man who’d like to stay put for a while. But guys on the task force have to be careful. Real attachments get in the way of our work. Which is why many have no one waiting for us at home. And those that do, lose a part of their recklessness, worried about getting home safely in one piece instead of going full throttle to do their job.
I haven’t had that worry. I haven’t had anyone. Until now.
I’m compromised. My commander’s words float back to me about my pending contract extension. I need to figure out what the hell it is I want, and fast.