Street Game (GhostWalkers, #8)(22)
“Let Kane answer me,” Jaimie suggested quietly. “I think it’s a legitimate question, don’t you, Kane?”
Mack shook his head. “I took the order from Sergeant Major, not Kane. I made the mistake, didn’t adequately check things out.” Mack hastened to defend Kane. “We were so close to catching them after following the shipment and I didn’t want to delay even a few minutes.”
“I want Kane to answer my question, Mack,” Jaimie insisted, her voice very low.
Kane’s sigh was audible. “No, you don’t, honey, you already have your answers and a closed mind.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“What are you accusing Kane of, Jaimie?” Mack demanded.
Kane ignored Mack and posed his own question. “What are the odds on you training nearly three years, topping everyone in every drill, and freaking out on the first mission?”
Mack stiffened, instant rage coiling in his gut. “Damn you, Kane, you’re going too far.” He looked from one to the other. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but stop.”
Jaimie’s fingers curled around Mack’s forearm, silencing him. “No, Mack. I want him to continue.” There was no mistaking the accusation in her voice.
Mack turned to look at his oldest and closest friend, the man he considered a brother. Kane remained lying on the couch, his legs stretched out, his fingers linked behind his neck, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he spoke.
“What are the odds you would have a terrible fight with Mack and me, when we never had a fight before?” Kane’s voice was very even, almost unconcerned. “And what do you think the odds would be, Jaimie, on you taking off, checking into a hotel you picked at random in a city you picked at random, and running into your old college professor?”
Jaimie’s nails dug into Mack’s skin. He didn’t think she was aware of it. “That isn’t an answer, Kane. It’s like you to try to throw me off the track, but I’m not going to let it happen.”
“What good is this?” Kane demanded, the coolness abruptly evaporating. “We’re here with you. Does it matter what brought us here? You had all the time in the world to figure things out. You didn’t want to know. Why the hell do it now that we’re here with you? Why care now how it all came about?”
“Maybe I can accept manipulation better than I can accept betrayal.”
Mack swore and yanked her around. “What the hell does that mean, Jaimie?”
She blinked back tears and met his furious gaze. “Kane knows what it means. Am I being set up, Kane?”
“Well, damn it, Jaimie.” Kane sounded astonished. “You’re my family. You’re Mack’s woman. Why the hell would you get it in your head that I’d do anything but protect you?”
“This doesn’t feel like protection to me.” Jaimie moved away from Mack with a small, defensive gesture.
Mack’s stomach knotted. “Jaimie.” He didn’t know what to say.
“I have a life now.” She motioned toward the window. “And now I’m right back in the middle of something I don’t want. I’m not an anchor the way all of you are. I barely get by. It’s a struggle every single day. Most nights I lie in bed with a killer headache wondering if I’m going to make it through the night. I’m not going back, not for either of you.”
Mack ignored her small retreat and followed her, wrapping his arms around her. “You never get headaches if I’m with you.”
Not headaches. But heartaches, and that was worse. She wasn’t going to let him comfort her, or change the subject. Deliberately, Jaimie stepped away from him.
“What are you really doing here?” Jaimie walked to the sink and poured herself a glass of water to gain her equilibrium. Mack looked hurt. He felt hurt. That was the last thing she wanted, but their coming was no coincidence.
Mack raked both hands through his hair in agitation. “I told you it was a mistake.”
Jaimie wandered across the room to the street side, staring moodily down at the tendrils of fog reaching in off the bay.
“Come on, Jaimie,” Kane said, his voice utterly calm. “We didn’t bring this down on you and you know it. We’re the convenient whipping boys. You were manipulated and you let yourself be. You wanted out and you jumped at the easy way out. It came with strings. As for who is watching you, they were here before we got here. You’re safer with us close than not.” He yawned. “I’m not getting up at five A.M. to hash this out. If you two are going to keep talking, do it in sign language.”
Get her away from the window. Get her back! Gideon’s voice burst into Mack’s head.
Without hesitation, Mack leapt forward and tackled Jaimie, bringing her to the ground. Kane rolled off the couch, hitting the floor and fighting his way out of his sleeping bag, gun already in his hand, indicating Gideon had called the warning to both men telepathically. Kane crawled to the window, where Mack’s body covered Jaimie’s. She didn’t protest or ask questions, but lay quietly beneath both men.
What do you have, Gideon? Is Superman back?
I wish. I think these two came looking for their buddies. They’re loaded for bear.
Can you get a shot at them?
Yes. I can take both out, but it won’t be quiet, boss.
Christine Feehan's Books
- Christine Feehan
- Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)
- Spider Game (GhostWalkers, #12)
- Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)
- Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)
- Ruthless Game (GhostWalkers, #9)
- Predatory Game (GhostWalkers, #6)
- Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)
- Murder Game (GhostWalkers, #7)
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