Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3) Read online

  Chapter 31

  At night, snuggled in bed, Zed’s beautiful cock still lingering inside her, his arms pulling her tightly to his firm body, Beck began drifting to sleep in the afterglow of climax and intimate connecting.

  Earlier, Zed’s story to the growers had been only slightly far-fetched. He’d told the owner he’d taken a wrong turn and ended up in the hills outside of San Diego. They guy said, “No problem,” he hoped Zed would be late because he was running late.

  After they finished there, they headed back to the hotel. Zed had traced and retraced his steps over and over and over until Beck thought he might explode with frustration. He’d gone up the stairs, down the stairs, up the elevator, paced throughout the garage but no memories surfaced.

  “You can’t force it,” she said repeatedly. So, they ended up back in the room, ordered room service and made love. It wasn’t the out of this world sex she’d grown used to with him, but seemed to be more of a stress release for Zed. Whatever. As always, he’d been attentive to her needs, giving her another orgasm. And honestly, she’d love him through anything. There’d be more time for mind-blowing encounters. Like in the car. Now that was hot.

  “I want to tell you about San Francisco,” Zed murmured in her ear.

  Sleep quickly fled from her body. “What?” Her eyes popped open, finding Zed’s deep blues trained on her face, his face somber and sincere.

  “San Francisco. I want to tell you before I lose my nerve.” He rolled away from her, pulling free from inside her, plumped the pillows behind him and leaned against the headboard.

  She sat up, doing the same. “There’s still a beer left in the mini-bar. Want me to fetch it for you?”

  “Thanks, but no.” He wet his lips and glanced away from her. “Not sure where to start. It’s, um…it’s complicated and the whole thing fills me with repulsion.”

  “I’m here for you, baby, you know that.” She reached for his large hand, laced her fingers with his, brought it to her mouth and kissed his knuckles.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’m grateful for that.”

  She watched him as he struggled to find the words to his story. Not wanting to add anxiety to his already over-amped nervous system, she took several deep, calming breaths.

  “So. My brother’s never been one to indulge in feelings, and the Marines only reinforced that. I mean, I get it. You can’t go weeping on the battlefield or process your feelings after you just took someone’s life. Anyway, each time he came home on leave, I noticed increasing distance between him and anything resembling a feeling or sensitivity of any kind.”

  He glanced at her, chewed on his lower lip and turned away. “It’s like the Marines scrubbed his humanity out of him. All he wanted to do when he came home was find someone to screw, get wasted, fight, in whatever order that came. So when I was twenty-three, immersed in my party lifestyle with Jace and Billy O’Reilly’s crew, he got charged with raping a girl.”

  “Shit,” Beck said, her lip curling in disgust. “It figures.”

  “Yeah, but he’s always been Mr. Lucky and the charges were dropped. The military may have helped, who knows? He’s an asset to their team. The girl was made to believe she made the whole thing up, it was consensual, blah, blah, blah. Poor thing.

  “Anyway, after that, he insisted I come with him when he scored. He wanted both an eyewitness and someone to soothe the women he fucked, because, believe me, there’s not an ounce of tenderness in his soul. I doubt if his heart even beats at this point.”

  He blew out a long breath. “He said he’d always make sure there was someone for me. I was young and hey, I’d had enough girls snatched out from underneath me, I thought it might be nice to be given one, instead. I forced myself to believe he was making nice with me, and we’d get closer. Nuh uh. Not with Lawson. I was merely a tool. I had to calm and soothe many a female he’d jacked off in and abandoned.” Zed’s foot began jiggling underneath the blankets. He stared off into space as if he were merely talking, and Beck didn’t exist.

  She remained quietly attentive, giving ample space for him to sort his thoughts.

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, on one occasion, he invited me to spend the weekend in San Francisco. Said he’d pay for my flight. We’d have a nonstop party. ‘It would be loads of fun,’ he said.” Zed’s voice sounded hoarse, nearly cracking as he spoke.

  Beck’s breath caught in her throat. She dared not exhale lest she break the walls of their private confessional, she the priestess, him the guy on the other side of the screen seeking absolution.

  He let go of her hand, made a fist and made small punching gestures at his mouth, as if trying to keep it all inside, or else.

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and gently moved his fist away from his face.

  “So, we’re down in the hotel bar, getting drinks and I…I…” His head shook violently back and forth.

  She brought her palm to his thigh, and ran it along the muscles soothingly. “It’s okay, baby, I’m right here. I’m here for you.”

  He rolled away from her, and exploded out of bed, pacing back and forth. “So, I fucking wake up in a bed somewhere, I can’t see a blasted thing and my dick’s in someone’s mouth, male or female, who the hell knows. I’ve got this fucking erection that feels like shit. Like I’ve been given an injection of wasp venom or something.

  “There’s some sort of hood over my head and headphones on my ears so all I can hear are murmurs. I start to writhe, try to move, but I’m bound to the bed.” He stops pacing, turns to her and gives her an almost pleading look. “When I bound you to the bed and told you I wasn’t into pain and you, well, you believed me, I was so grateful I wanted nothing more than to give you fountains of pleasure. That beautiful, blissful, mind-blowing night was me purging demons, trying to make a wretched experience into something glorious. You gave it to me, Beck honey.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She wanted him next to her, she wanted to take away the burden of pain and shame, but she dared not move or say anything.

  His restless prowling began. “All I hear is faint laughter. I don’t know what they’re laughing at but I’m guessing it’s me. I start to rage, to yell, pleading for release. This makes the laughter even louder. I don’t know how long I lay there, letting all these hands and mouths, pussies and breasts have their way with me, but it wasn’t pleasant.

  “It wasn’t like, ‘Oh, an orgy of bliss.’ It was torture. My dick felt like it was on fire. Finally, the headphones are pulled free and the slurred voice of my brother says, ‘you have to beg to get free.’ And he and his groupies all laugh. Someone, one of the women, says, ‘let him go, Laws. You’ve had your fun.’ But for him the fun’s only begun. I’m his entertainment. I refused to beg. Told myself I would never beg. I think he got bored at one point, so he kicked the women out and turned his vile attention on me, telling me he refused to release me unless I begged and begged hard.”

  Beck’s hand flew to her mouth. The humiliation. The degradation. Oh, baby. She refused to insult him with sympathy. Zed had turned into a good, good man. A man worthy of respect, not pity. “What did you do? How did you get free?”

  He turned to give her the most chilling gaze she’d ever seen on him. And hoped she’d never see again.

  “What do you think? I had to piss, I had to relieve my relentless hard-on…I begged. The more I begged, the harder he laughed. When I could barely stand it any longer, he untied one of my hands, and left the room. I didn’t see him until San Diego a year ago and the whole mystery moment began. Six blissful years, Lawson free.

  “Of course, Ma kept me apprised of everything.” The muscles in his jaw ticked. “I pulled the hood from my head. The room was a total mess. Bottles everywhere, remnants of cocaine, bras, panties, ripped clothing. I cleaned up the best I could but…” He shrugged.

  “I had to pay damages because he disappeared. That’s twice I’ve covered his ass financially. And I had been drawn on with permanent Sharpie. I had the
word Loser on my forehead. Waldo scribed over my ass. Fuckhead, dickwad, pussy-whipped, you name it. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw, trying to get the words off.

  “And my hangover…shit, it lasted for days. I was violently ill. Couldn’t keep a thing down. I don’t know what he managed to get his hands on— modern day Roofies, like temazepam or midazolam, mixed with Spanish Fly? I could have been killed with whatever he dosed me with. Anyway…that’s what happened in ‘Frisco.” A grim, mirthless smile appeared on his face.

  “Come here.” She patted the space next to her.

  He shook his head in the negative. “I need to…I dunno, get cleaned up or something. I need a long shower. By myself, if you don’t mind.”

  She nodded, dumbly, unsure of what to do or say. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you’re done.” When he shut the door behind him, even locking it, she hoped he didn’t do anything stupid. She hated Lawson Farrell. If he came back for treatment, she didn’t think she could even look at him. She’d want to knee him in the nuts, a move that probably wouldn’t fly with her employer.

  Her body roared with rage. Feeling helpless, having been let in and then literally locked out, she got out of bed, and made her own pacing prowl. The water turned on in the bathroom and she listened as Zed moved about, pushing back the shower curtain, stepping into the tub/shower stall.

  She stalked back and forth through the small room, wishing she’d taken up smoking or something. If she had, she’d be chain smoking like her former boss, Bruce Tapt, at this moment. She let out a chuckle. “Stupid idea, Beck.” Wandering toward the bathroom, she pressed her hands and face against the door in an attempt to be close to Zed. She jerked, surprised, when Zed’s voice roared from the bathroom.

  “Beck!”

  “What?” She heard the shower curtain being catapulted aside.

  Zed flung open the door, causing her to nearly fall on his hard, wet body—something she wouldn’t be averse to if the circumstances were different. His face looked excited, exuberant.

  “Telling that story must have rattled a memory loose. I’ve got something!”

  Chapter 32

  Zed stalked into the room, his mind on fire. He only had fragments of recollection but it was a start. It seemed like his brain fired with a missing piston or two, but at this point, he’d take it.

  His naked beauty Beck sat at the edge of the bed, poised for action.

  He took a second to regard her, to cherish her, smiling a little at the wonderful woman in his life.

  She smiled back, making it seem like they were bound together, as one of those clichéd “two have become one” entities.

  “Hold on. Let’s do this systematically and logically,” he said. He grabbed his pants off the floor and yanked them over his hips, fastening them. Retrieved his shirt and tugged it over his head. “Get dressed. I need to retrace my steps. I’ve got a memory or two. Let’s see if we can piece them together.”

  “Okay.” She hustled around the room, retrieving panties, her pants and her shirt, drawing them on swiftly.

  They seemed to move like a team, operating on the same wavelength. Zed stepped into the hall with Beck close behind. “So,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb anyone at this late, late hour. “Wait, one sec.” He took her by the shoulders, and brushed her mouth with his, softly and sweetly. “You’re an amazing gift, Beck honey. I couldn’t do this without you. Couldn’t face this, would never deal with it. I can’t thank you enough for being a part of my life.”

  “Sure you can,” she said, with that playful teasing smirk he loved. “Get your damn memories back so I don’t have to worry any more. That will be thanks enough.”

  He let out a low laugh before continuing. “Okay, so I raced out of the room when he headed for the back bedroom. We know that.” He strode to the elevator. “Took the elevator down to the lobby and then the lift to the garage.”

  “What’s your memory?” Beck asked him as the elevator descended.

  The door slid open at the lobby level and they stepped out at a brisk clip, nodding at the sleepy guy behind the counter, and heading toward the parking garage. When the doors enfolded them, he said, “He chased me into the parking garage. Maybe Nora rejected him. I told you I kind of spaced in my truck, hesitated, passed out, who knows what the fuck was going through my brain?

  “He ran toward the truck waving a gun at me. Used the butt of the gun to break my window. Pointed it at my head. I don’t think he knew I was even in the truck. He probably only saw the enemy. So without thinking, I exited the passenger side and ran for my life. Me against a marine. What was I thinking?”

  He hit his forehead with his palm, indicating his stupidity. “I ran up eight floors of stairs to get to the rooftop. Not my brightest move, but I was running on adrenaline and fear. I mean, I’d be trapped up there. I wasn’t using my head. Not a trained sniper.” He grimaced.

  “I plastered my back to that little building up there and when he burst through the door, I moved as quietly as I could into the stairwell. From there, I entered the floor with the bar and used the elevator to get back to the garage. Got in my truck and got the hell out of there. Of course, he was two steps behind me. He’s like a beast. He moves on instinct. Smells your fear and it’s game on for him.” He stopped speaking when the elevator doors opened. “Then there’s that big, blank hole. That’s all I’ve got.”

  “It’s a good start,” Beck said, enthusiastically. “Let’s see. Where was your truck?”

  “Over here. Right here in this spot,” Zed said, pointing to the space marked fifty-two. He moved past the Kia Sephia parked in that spot, toward the wall. “Look. There’s even bits of glass pushed against the wall. I’ll bet it’s from my old truck. Damn. I wish I could remember something else.”

  “Try to relax. See if you can get calm and clear headed.” She walked toward him and placed her hand on his back, making large sweeping circles.

  Whenever she did this, he went into an insta-soothe drowse, almost like a child. “Mmm, I love your touch.” He placed his palms against the painted concrete blocks and hung his head for a moment, savoring her caresses. “That’s it!” His head swung up and he pivoted toward her.

  “What have you got?”

  “Still vague. Still fuzzy. But we were in some sort of high speed chase. It’s a wonder we didn’t get stopped by the police. It was late, prime time for cops and criminals to be out. I think he took a couple shots at the truck.” He ran his hand through his hair and began to pace. “I remember being freaked out, completely terrified, certain it would be my last night on planet Earth.

  “He stayed on my tail all the way up the hill. The last thing I remember before the accident, was him…I dunno…somehow he stood in his Jeep…is that possible while you’re going ninety?” He shook his head. “No, this doesn’t make any sense. But I saw him in the rearview, holding his rifle pointed straight at my head. That’s my last memory.”

  He shook his head like a dog trying to shake water from his face. “And I thought I crawled free of the truck, but I sorta remember crawling up the hill. There was no other vehicle around when my rescuer arrived. At least I don’t think so.”

  “Who was your rescuer? Do you still have his name? His number? Anything? Maybe he saw something.”

  “No. I was too dazed to remember anything. He was heading home, he saw me sitting by the side of the road, bleeding or something. Took me to an emergency room. I probably had a concussion. Don’t remember. You couldn’t miss the truck. It was brutal. Demolished. A maimed mess of metal and plastic. Crushed. Destroyed. Like I shoulda been.”

  Her eyes moist, she said, making him happier than he’d ever been in his life, “Thank God you’re still here. You’re the one who’s a gift, Zed. You’re my gift.”

  He inhaled, feeling like he had died—died and landed in heaven, with Beck, his beautiful angel.

  She smiled, then paused. “Do you want to…you know, head back up there?”

  “Nah. It’s
a lot to process. My head’s in a spin, first from you not leaving me when I told you my story of being in the Bay Area and what went down there, and now getting some of my memories back. I’ve never told a soul about San Francisco, in case you wondered. No one but you, Beck, sweetheart.

  “And now, well, hell. It’s like a missing part of me sifted inside. I’m in need of a drink, or a good sleep or, better yet…a really good love-fuck with my woman.” He smirked, thinking how easily he could distract himself in loving Beck. “You can consider our earlier attempts foreplay. You got any juice left for another round?” He sauntered toward her, taking pleasure at the easy shift in her face, in her body.

  “I think I could use a little stress free loving, too, baby. You’ve accomplished a lot tonight. We’ve got a lot to deal with when we get back. For the next twenty-four, let’s pretend nothing exists except you and me. After that, you’ve got a race to prepare for – with a clear mind at last.”

  Chapter 33

  Weeks later, blinking through sweat, Zed, jostling between other sweaty, sore, colorfully clad racers, finally saw the finish line ahead. Felt the fatigue in his body. His legs were wooden, thick, heavy, barely attached to his hips. His body drenched, dog-tired, somehow propelled forward through willpower, even though his muscles screamed. His foot caught on a rock, causing him to stumble. I don’t think I can make it. I’m going to be a DNF. Beck’s going to leave me. Ricky will be embarrassed. I’ll be humiliated. He felt like he might throw up. Either that, or faint from exhaustion.

  Ricky stood ahead, cheering and waving.

  You’re in the way, Ricky. Right in my path. Move.

  His mother had planted herself next to him, hands on her hips, her lips pressed tightly, preventing any kind of pride for her son or compliment from escaping, shaking her head. His brother stood next to her, like a wall, giant, trained assassin, military arms folded over his massive chest, smirking. He reached behind him for…