“Jesus,” Jackson muttered, more in disgust than out of sympathy.
Trace handed over a hospital report. “Given what he survived, I’d say he’s tougher than I thought.”
After perusing it, Jackson closed the file without a word. He worked his jaw.
Trace didn’t look too happy, either. “Somehow he got away, and he’s saving all the details for you.”
“I don’t understand this,” Alani said. “Why Jackson?”
Jackson answered her. “He knows I can protect him.”
“That’s about it,” Trace agreed. “He wants Alani there because he figures she can keep him safe from more of the same, at least from you.”
While Alani struggled to sort it out, Jackson nodded in comprehension. “He wants protection, figures I can give it, but he doesn’t trust me not to finish what someone else started.”
Trace reached for Alani’s hand. “I’m sorry, honey, but he does trust you. And much as I hate it, we need to find out what we can from him.”
Before Alani could assimilate that, Jackson pushed from his seat. “He’s still in a hospital?”
“And will be for a few more days at least.”
Pacing the length of the porch, Jackson said, “He wants us to come there?”
“Yes.”
“Could be a trap.”
“I know.”
The rapid-fire back and forth made Alani’s head spin. “Whoa. You’re making plans around me!”
“Necessary plans,” Jackson told her. And then to Trace, “You and Dare will cover us?”
“Me inside, Dare outside.”
“When?”
“Sooner the better. There’s a chance that when he escaped, if he truly escaped, they weren’t able to follow and haven’t yet located him.”
None of this made any sense to her. “What do you mean, if he escaped?”
Trace shrugged. “It’s possible someone let him go, guessing he’d contact Jackson.”
“Hoping to draw us out,” Jackson said.
The trap he’d mentioned. Feeling a little queasy, she put a hand to her stomach.
Finally Jackson looked at her. “Go get dressed.”
The terse order pushed her past her limit. She slowly rose to her feet. “I beg your pardon?”
Trace collected the files and turned for the patio doors. “I’ll be inside.”
That her brother walked off now told her plenty. He wanted her to get ready, too.
“If you don’t want to go,” Jackson told her, practically jumping on the possibility, all but heaving in anger, “say the word. I’ll figure out something else.”
“Trace said I needed to.”
“Fuck that. Fuck him.” He grabbed her upper arms. “I can work it another way.”
He was concerned for her, but Alani would not let him dictate to her. “How?”
“I don’t know yet. It’s not for you to worry about it.”
How could she help but worry? With his demands, Marc put her right in the middle of danger. But to be honest with herself, scared as it might make her, she preferred to be with Jackson.
The idea of him being hurt scared her most of all.
She knew she was in love with him, and keeping the words to herself the last few days hadn’t been easy. But if she couldn’t say it, she could at least show it.
She stepped closer and stared up at him. “I will get dressed.” Her bottom lip quivered, and she swallowed hard. “I will do what needs to be done. But I will not—”
He kissed her hard, stealing her breath, shocking her. His tongue came into her mouth as he lifted her to her tiptoes, forcing her head back, devouring her.
She made a sound of alarm, and he lifted his mouth away.
Breathing hard and deep, he said, “Not how it works, babe. Not now.”
Alani flattened her hands against his chest, but he was as immovable as cold steel.
He let that settle in, let her feel her own helplessness, then said, “You want to play along? Fine. But you’ll have to put aside what’s between us. I’ll have to put it aside.”
She wanted to ask what that could be, because he’d never said, but she didn’t. Now was definitely not the time to press him on his feelings.
“You do what I say, when I say. You breathe when I tell you to breathe.” He inhaled. “And you run when I tell you to run. No matter what, no questions asked.”
“You’re crossing a line, Jackson.”
“It’s already crossed.” He released her to rub the back of his neck. “It’s been crossed since the day I met you.”
Her heart broke a little. “I don’t know what that means.”
Cupping her face, he looked down at her. “It means you need to be away from danger, not surrounded by it.”
Was he counting himself in the group with danger? “You would use this as an excuse to…to…”
“No.” He drew her forward for another kiss, this one softer, almost an apology. “It means I care enough that I can’t stomach the thought of you hurt.”
Relief nearly took out her knees. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love, and she knew Jackson cared for a lot of people; he couldn’t do his job if he didn’t care. But at least he wasn’t forcing her away.
“I don’t like the idea of you hurt, either.”
His expression hardened. “That’s what I’m talking about right there. You can’t think that way.”