Jared: Kings of Guardian (Book 5)

Jared: Kings of Guardian Book 5 By Kris Michaels

Jared King had endured more than the normal amount of danger in his life. He’d jumped from planes into hot landing zones, been shot at, almost blown up—twice, damn near killed more times than he cared to remember. Yet, nothing in his past compared to the danger of admitting his feelings for Christian Koehler. When Jared pushed Christian away too hard, once too often, the young man finally left and took Jared’s heart with him.

Once upon a time, Christian Koehler had idolized Jared King. But after two years of the arrogant man's hot and cold mind games, Christian avoided the sexy Guardian like the plague. The jagged line between love and hate was paper thin and razor sharp, and Jared had pushed Christian across that line, with prejudice.

When Christian discovers what he believes is a common thread in several disappearances of the homeless and at-risk teens in his area, he immediately tells his superiors. But neither his employer nor the D.C. cops believe the missing children are connected. Desperate to find out the truth, Christian swallows his pride and returns to the Kings and Guardian for help.

Jared seizes the opportunity to investigate the missing children and the unexpected chance to once again be part of Christian’s life. What he finds leads to a tempest of deceit, danger and intrigue that pulls Christian back into Jared’s world. This time, Jared vows to fight to keep Christian with him forever—no matter the cost.

Note to readers: Please be aware that Jared’s story is a gay romance with explicit male on male sex scenes. For those who do not wish to read an m/m book, Jasmine’s story will be released in Jan of 2017 and will recap any pertinent story line information from this novel. For my loyal readers who have requested this story, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Hugs, Kris

Chapter One The Marshall Ranch, Hollister, South Dakota – early morning, the day before Christmas three years ago: Jared King groaned as he regained consciousness and immediately, absolutely wished he were dead. Or maybe he was dead. Can you feel like a pile of shit if you’re dead? He moved his head slightly. Vicious shards of pain ripped a path through his brain. Yes, yes you can.

He peeled his tongue off the roof of his mouth and tried to swallow. The sour taste of whiskey brought fleeting, convoluted memories of last night and the party at the training facility’s new sixbed hospital. Way too much whiskey. He cracked his eyes open and blinked—once, and only once.

The light pouring through the window painted vivid, searing, crimson streaks against his corneas and ignited lightning bolts of pain through his skull. Fuck, there was absolutely no need to see a damn thing today. Holy Mother of God, who in the hell decided it was a good idea to mix his brothers, a team of professional mercenaries, and alcohol together? Whoever that was, the asshole needed to be shot.

Somehow his muddled mind put a semi-coherent course of action together, and he let that bastard of an idea lead. He turned away from the sunlight and tried to open his eyes again. With extreme caution, he maneuvered to his side and rolled into a warm body. He froze. Slowly bringing his hands up to hold his head—just in case the pounding forced his brains to spontaneously erupt— he groaned… or whimpered. The warmth next to him moved… closer? Soft hair tickled his arm.

Jared pried his eyelid open and tried to fight through the nausea and focus. The face, not more than six inches away, slowly started to come into focus.

The unforgiving pain between his eyes took a backseat to confusion. Long, soft blond hair fell in a thick drape over the man’s shoulder. Darker eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks, one of which still showed a bruise from some not-so-distant injury. The cheeks held a blush the same color as the man’s lips.

Shit… clothes? Jared palmed his chest and breathed a sigh of relief. Clothes, check… so what the fuck, or rather who the fuck? You’re never drinking again, King.

Jared lifted his head and immediately regretted the stupid idea, but he gutted it out and swept a quick gaze over the room. Chief, Dixon, Drake, Justin, and Adam were draped over five of the six hospital beds available. Four members of Alpha team and the one brother not involved with

Guardian Security were asleep or unconscious. Maybe dead… after all, he felt like death warmed over. Damn. Never again. Seriously.

Jared looked back down at the young man next to him. The kid from last night… what the fuck was his name? Ahh… hell, the neighbor’s kid, right? The one that was beaten to hell and back by his old man… or was it his brother? Jared’s mind started to function, but definitely not on all eight cylinders, more like sputtering on three. He closed his eyes again and shuddered through a wave of nausea.

Damn. He drew a slow, deep breath and the nausea abated. The kid’s name was Christian.

Yeah, that was it. He tried to remember the details he’d overheard, but could only recall the kid’s life had been hell. Slowly his mind filled in the blanks. Jason and Adam were paying for the kid to go back to college. One thing he knew without a doubt—the young man was gay. Not that the kid broadcast the fact, but he glanced at Jared and lingered a moment too long. He’d blushed when Jared leaned toward him to hear over the ruckus the other men were making. Other subtle tells confirmed he was right. He closed his eyes and carefully rolled onto his back, forgetting how narrow the beds were. The metal side rail of the hospital bed groaned but held his weight and prevented him from rolling off. Thank you, Jesus. Hitting the floor with this hangover would have been a death sentence. His head would explode. Or implode. Fuck, who cared. He’d be dead.

The body beside him shifted closer and tucked up under his chin. Jared instinctively wrapped his arm around the kid’s muscled shoulders. He wasn’t going to admit how damn good it felt to hold that lithe body next to him, but how the hell did he end up in bed with him? Jared put his free hand over his eyes. Think, King. What the fuck happened last night?

He recalled the kid bringing food and more whiskey from the main house to the hospital.

They’d all had one hell of a good time. He and his brothers rarely had occasion to be in the same place at the same time and be safe enough to let down their defenses. Holy hell, they’d sure as fuck let every last one of them down last night. Jared heard a moan and looked over as Chief attempted to sit up. The former communications specialist from his brother Jacob’s team had taken the lead position here at the ranch last year. He was in charge of setting up Guardian’s training complex. Right now the man was making a chore of sitting himself up.

“Oh… son of a bitch.” Chief groaned the words out as he finally got semi-vertical.

“Welcome to my world.” Jared’s voice sounded as fucked up as his head felt.

Chief squinted at him and blinked a couple of times. He rubbed his face and looked toward Jared again. He gave a vague wave of his hand toward where he and the kid lay. “What the fuck?”

Jared slowly shook his head, swallowed back the nausea the movement caused before he croaked, “I have no idea.”

“You and the kid were talking one minute and passed out the next. Fuuuck, I think I’m dying.”

Adam rolled onto his stomach and held his head in his hands. The doctor let out a pained moan that said more than any words could.

Chief grunted, “So, this is hell.”

“Shut up,” Dixon snarled as he pulled his pillow over his head. His twin, Drake, didn’t move.

Hell, from where he was lying, Jared couldn’t tell if the man was breathing.

“I didn’t think the kid had that much.” Kid… wasn’t that just his fucking luck. The kid currently asleep in his arms was everything that pushed his buttons. Jared moved to a more comfortable position, bringing Christian’s head onto his shoulder. Damn, if the man next to him were a couple years older…

“Didn’t. Must not have any tolerance.” Adam sat up and blinked repeatedly.

“Aspirin?” Chief stood but held the side of the bed to steady himself.

“Fuck, yeah. Break it out, Doc.” Jared lifted slowly, extricating himself from the warmth next to him.

Christian blinked as Jared sat up. Terror filled his eyes, and the young man sprang from the bed with a sharp gasp. His chest rose and fell with deep, panic-driven pulls of air.

“Hey, dude… settle down.” Jared reached out for him, but the younger man jerked away as if Jared had leprosy. Christian’s eyes scanned the room, and seconds later he bolted out the door.

The echo of his footsteps pounding down the hallway was the only indication he’d once been in the room.

“What. The. Fuck?” Jared looked at both Chief and Adam hoping for an answer.

Adam glanced over at Jared. “He’s had it rough. I’ll talk to him when I don’t want to puke my guts up. He’ll be okay.”

“Seriously? Shut. Up,” his brother, Justin, moaned. Another country heard from. At least they were all alive. Maybe.

“Someone see if Drake’s still breathing.” Adam threw the comment over his shoulder as he fumbled with a medication bottle. Finally getting the plastic arrows lined up, he popped the lid and started doling out the pain relievers.

“Touch me and die,” Drake murmured.

“Not scared. I’m going to die anyway,” Jared growled as he swallowed two pills dry and lay back down. He’d figure out the kid later. Maybe… if he lived. ~ Marshall Ranch, South Dakota, that evening, the day before Christmas…

Christian stood alone on the balcony, watching as family and friends descended on Doctor Adam Cassidy and his future wife, Keelee Marshall. Moments before, on the darkened balcony above a fifteen-foot Christmas tree, the entire King clan and all the doc’s military friends had watched as the guy went down on one knee and asked her to marry him. The happiness, back slapping and well wishes almost drowned the dark sadness that invaded Christian. He overlooked the scene, again wondering at the opportunity he’d been given. For some reason, two very good men, Adam Cassidy and Jason King, had taken him under their wing and offered him a way out of his personal hell. He was leaving the day after tomorrow to go to Mississippi with Jason. His only goal was to get as far away from his father and brothers and Hollister, South Dakota, as he could. Jason and Doc had offered him the chance to go back to college, and he grabbed that opportunity with both hands.

Christian looked at the men below him. Like Mr. Marshall, the owner of the ranch where they were building a training complex, the Kings and the men of Guardian were true role models. Not like his father. The men gathered below him wouldn’t… No, he couldn’t finish the thought without tearing up. His father couldn’t hurt him anymore. Soon he’d be gone, and he’d finally be able to be himself. Whoever, or whatever, that was.

He leaned against the pine pillar and surveyed the crowd below him. Unexpected longing surged unchecked, hitting him with a force so deep and desperate the emotion forced his breath to stick in his throat until the act of breathing became almost too difficult. Yet he did inhale, and held the air inside until it hurt. That small tinge of pain grounded him in reality. Life hurt. Desperately and painfully. Good things like happiness were reserved for families like the one downstairs. He moved back from the edge of the balcony and leaned against the wall behind him. Someday he hoped to have a family. A real family, like the one downstairs. Someone he could love, and that would love him in return. Maybe kids one day.

Yeah, kids… he enjoyed working with kids, and when he could, he volunteered at school as a tutor. He wanted to help those like him, the kids that were abused or neglected. That’s what he wanted to do with his degree—social work. His father hadn’t known he’d changed his major. He’d have earned another beating for that. The fact that he was actually allowed to go to college was predicated on his academic scholarships, but his dad paid room and board. Or did until the day he’d been forced back to the ranch.

He closed his eyes, trying to hold back the memories of the beatings he’d taken at the old man’s hands and those of his older brother, Clint. He was glad he was leaving South Dakota.

A floorboard creaking to his right startled him. Instinctively, Christian pushed back further into the shadows.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Jared King’s deep voice held a slight southern accent and carried from where he stood leaning over the balcony rail.

Christian could feel his face flush and thanked God he was in the darkest part of the hall. He lowered his eyes to the ground and hid his face behind the fall of his hair. He’d grown it long to use specifically for that purpose. Hiding from people was something he knew how to do well.

“I didn’t see you today. You took out of the clinic pretty quick this morning.”

Christian risked a glance at the man he’d tried not to think about. Jared King had talked to him last night. Actually talked to him—like he mattered. He’d had a couple sips of whiskey and laughed and visited with all the men. But Jared? Christian felt a connection, a draw toward him. It was a pull he really didn’t want to dissect or understand. As much as the man fascinated him, the power that radiated around Jared made him hesitate. He moved with slow, powerful grace that lulled you into thinking he wasn’t the threat Christian sensed he could be. But then, all the men of Guardian were dangerous. He’d seen them train and heard enough to know they were skilled killers if necessary.

“Not sure what time we passed out last night. Do you know?”

Christian cleared his throat before he answered, “About four this morning.”

Jared chuffed a lungful of air. “We aren’t always like that. But sometimes we do like to cut loose.” He lifted off the rail and looked back towards Christian. “Did I do or say something last night? I mean, the way you took out of the clinic this morning… if I did, God knows, I didn’t mean any offense.”

Christian shook his head. What was he supposed to say? He knew he’d acted like a fool this morning by running away from the men who had treated him as an equal. When he woke up at the clinic beside Jared, he’d been disoriented. He’d thought he was back at his father’s place. Locked in the barn. How did he tell the guy in front of him the reason he ran was overwhelming fear? How did he confess to any of these men about the terror, pain and humiliation? You don’t. You never tell anyone, especially this type of men. They didn’t identify with weakness, and he’d do well to remember that. “Sorry, I just… no, you didn’t do anything that was offensive.”

He watched through his hair as Jared meandered across the hall and closed the gap between them. Christian slowly backed down the hall as Jared stalked him. He stopped when the big man lowered his voice to little more than a whisper. “I understand you’ve had a hard time. I’ve been there, too. Life isn’t easy sometimes.”

Christian swallowed hard and forced himself to look up, way up, into the vivid green eyes of the man standing next to him. He couldn’t imagine Jared would have a hard time with anything.

The man standing in front of him was sexy, confident, and if the rumors at the ranch were true, very successful.

Jared smiled but didn’t say a word as he reached toward Christian. Surprise froze him for a moment. His muscles tensed to run. Panic insisted, don’t let anyone touch you! Survival had become instinctual. The warm grip of Jared’s large palm cupped the back of his neck. On the verge of bolting, he stilled. His panic subsided. Jared made a point of looking up, and Christian’s eyes followed his gaze. A bundle of mistletoe hung suspended over them. Christian stopped breathing as Jared leaned down to meet his lips. The soft brush sent a shockwave of sensation running like tiny electric currents under his skin. The sweep of Jared’s tongue asked for permission, and Christian granted access. He grabbed Jared’s biceps to steady himself under the sensual onslaught.

The huge muscles flinched and trembled under his touch.

His body was being set on fire. Jared’s tongue coaxed and teased his until Christian leaned into the big body in front of him, surrendering to the longing he felt.

The kiss ended with a tender nip of his bottom lip followed by a soft sweep of Jared’s tongue.

Christian opened his eyes to see the pupils of Jared’s eyes blown wide, rimmed by a slice of vivid green. Jared’s stare held him mesmerized. Finally, the man closed his eyes and shook his head. He dropped his hand from Christian’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He missed the warmth immediately.

“Merry Christmas, Christian. May all your dreams come true.” Jared pulled back a step as he spoke.

“I think they just did.” Christian blushed at his breathless admission.

“I’m nothing to wish for, kid. I never will be. You’d be better served by pinning those dreams on someone else.” Jared dropped his hand and pivoted on his heel.

Christian’s fingertips traced his lips as he watched Jared go downstairs to be with his family.

A smile pulled at the side of his mouth.

Chapter Two Washington, D.C., two years later, with a college degree and so much water under the bridge…

“How in the hell did you score an invitation to opening night? Nevermind, don’t answer that.

I don’t care! This is amazing!”

Christian smiled at his best friend Stevie’s exuberance. The invitations to the opening were a gift from the CEO of Guardian Security. The perks of having a rich benefactor were quite frankly amazing. Case in point: an invitation to the opening night of one of the hottest nightclubs in D.C. Thank goodness the glass wall to the VIP section buffered most of the volume, though it did nothing to soften the reverberating thump of the music that pulsated through every fiber of Christian’s body. He smiled and winked before he pulled his best friend and roommate toward the dance floor from their reserved VIP table. The musclebound bouncers at the entrance blocked a couple of guys from entering. The door guards purposefully held up the flow of pedestrian traffic to look for the distinctive silver bracelets needed to enter the reserved area. They moved to allow Christian and Stevie to squeeze past. Every bit as big as the bouncers, Christian had to suck in his gut and stand tall to squeeze through. The tight squeeze didn’t matter, and tonight the beat of the music and the top-shelf alcohol he’d consumed helped loosen his inhibitions. For the first time in one hell of a long time, he wanted to dance, to feel good and to enjoy this amazing opportunity to do both.

Christian rarely accepted anything from his mentor, and he carefully tracked what he did accept. The tickets were an exception. Somehow, with that incredible sixth sense he had, Jason King knew that Christian needed to celebrate and blow off steam. When the tickets arrived, and he’d read the handwritten note asking him to please treat himself and enjoy the evening with a friend, he couldn’t resist. He’d finished his last exam yesterday and would be walking across the stage in two weeks’ time. The two years to finish his degree and grow into a man who could stand on his own two feet had seemed to fly by. Soon he’d be working full time, but right now he was celebrating his success with his best friend.

The pressing heat of bodies coupled with the sensual pulse of the music drowned out any concerns about his future. Christian wanted to dance until the club closed, to drink too much and forget everything.

Hands grabbed his hips and a body pressed up behind him. A wicked smile spread across Stevie’s face when he noticed the third member of their dance party. The man’s hands immediately groped Christian’s bulge, and while the idea had merit, the two seconds of contact before he was pulled back into the writhing hips of the man behind him instantly chilled any interest. Christian shook his head and extricated himself from the stranger’s grip with little effort. He glanced over his shoulder and eyed the guy. Hot, sexy, but definitely not his taste. He wasn’t here for a quick fuck in the bathroom stalls. He’d had it with clandestine hook-ups and being at someone’s beck and call. He was starting a new chapter in his life and the pattern that had developed over the last two years wasn’t going to continue. His roommate sidled against him and pulled him farther into the crowd.

“He was hot.” Stevie probably shouted the words, but with the decibel level of the music all Christian could do was read his lips. Christian smiled and shook his head before he lost himself in the beat of the music.

After a marathon of songs, Christian tapped Stevie on the shoulder and motioned toward the VIP lounge. He needed a bottle, or ten, of water and another Jack and Coke. Stevie waved, mouthed ‘bye-bye’ and kept dancing. The man was the freaking Energizer Bunny. A five-foot-five-inch package of ginger-topped, dance-powered stamina.

He presented his silver bracelet to the bouncers and walked back toward the booth reserved for him. Thank God the music was buffered. The cold blast of AC didn’t hurt either. As he dropped into the leather banquette, a waiter appeared at his side.

“What can I get for you?”

Before he could answer, a voice from directly behind him responded, “He’ll have ice water.”

Christian bristled at the sound of the deep, sexy, southern drawl but refused to look back at the source. He knew what he’d see. Six-foot-six-inches of sexy as hell man. Black hair, green eyes, and a dimple that showed on his right cheek when the bastard smiled. A self-assured smirk, always present across his Adonis-like features, told everyone he knew how damn good he looked. Too bad all that gorgeous packaging was wrapped around an overbearing, pompous, self-centered, arrogant ass-hat of a person.

“I’ll have a Jack and Coke, and make it a double.” The waiter gave him a nod and headed toward the bar. He leaned back in the booth and waited. The bench seat dipped beside him and Jared King’s familiar cologne tickled his nose. Christian glanced over and took in the black jeans and light green button-down shirt. A massive silver Breitling watch peeked out from under the expensive cuff of the man’s hand-tailored shirt. Christian pulled his eyes off his uninvited visitor and looked out to the dance floor, catching a glimpse of Stevie dancing, or rather, sandwiched between two grinding men. He didn’t speak. Maybe Jared would take the hint and go away. As. If. “Your date is having fun.”

There was no way he was going to correct Jared’s assumption. Stevie was a very tactile person, and his constant compulsion to touch Christian had brought several others to the same erroneous conclusion, but there was nothing between them. There never had been, but Jared didn’t need to know that. Actually, after all the shit Jared had pulled over the last two years, he didn’t deserve a damn thing.

The waiter returned with his drink. Christian pulled out his wallet, and Jared waved him off.

“Put it on my tab.” The waiter spun on his heel and left before Christian could object.

“I don’t need you to buy my drinks.”

“Why? Do you prefer living off my brother’s generosity instead?”

He froze with his drink halfway to his lips. He set the crystal tumbler down on the table and tucked his hair behind his ear. The past two years of Jared’s bullshit slammed into a laser-like focus. Every instance of Jared’s positive-then-negative routine danced in his memory. First, he was interested, then he wasn’t. Jared pursued Christian until they’d come together in an explosive moment, only to reject him literally within minutes of Christian’s inevitable surrender. The mental mind-fuck the older man was playing ended tonight. Jared’s divisive comment lit the fuse to an anger he no longer cared or needed to contain.

Christian lifted an eyebrow and prayed he could control his temper. If he couldn’t, he’d attempt to beat the shit out of the dickwad sitting next to him. Attempt being the operative word.

He drew a deep breath and held it for a count of ten before he exhaled and tried to rein in the hurt Jared’s words had once again caused. That was nothing new. The wounds Jared’s words left behind lingered for weeks, like mottled bruises, painful and ugly.

“For your information, I know exactly how much money your brother and Doctor Cassidy have contributed toward my degree and my room and board, and I have a damn close estimate for all the extras they’ve given me. Counting my cell phone, computer, books, and fees, minus the scholarships I’ve applied for and received, I can tell you to the penny the amount I owe each of them. It will take years, but I’ll pay my debt. The money has always been a loan, you stupid fuck.”

He stood slowly and met Jared’s gaze. The confused look he saw flash through the man’s green eyes didn’t really matter, not any longer. Christian picked up his drink. “You know— between the times when you decided I was an available piece of ass and the times you treated me like a leper—if you’d tried to really get to know me, you’d have found out I’m all about paying my debts.

“However, I’d like to repay you tonight for every time you’ve used me and then treated me like a disease. I’ll consider this payment in full.” Christian lifted his drink and turned it over, emptying the full tumbler over Jared’s head. The Jack and Coke streamed down, plastering his dark hair to his forehead. A brown stain widened on the front of his tailored shirt. The stunned silence around him didn’t register. He was too fucking mad. He set down the empty glass and headed straight to the dance floor and Stevie.

Christian leaned down to shout in Stevie’s ear. “I’m heading out. Do you want to stay?”

Stevie smiled as the man he had been dancing with pulled him back, grinding against him.

Stevie winked and mouthed, “I’m staying.” They’d both driven in case the evening worked out for either of them. In Stevie’s case, it obviously was doing just that. Christian nodded and headed home on autopilot. ~ Christian threw his keys into the small bowl beside the door and locked the deadbolt behind him. He was incensed not only that Jared had crashed the one night this year he’d decided to have fun, but also that he’d let the man get under his skin. Again. Christian ran his hands through his hair and paced back and forth across the living room of the small apartment where he and Stevie had lived for the last two years. Although Stevie was probably the messiest person on the face of the planet and his bedroom looked like a bomb had exploded in it, the front room and kitchen remained meticulously clean thanks to Christian’s borderline OCD tendencies. Christian toed off his shoes before he put them in the small hall closet. He pulled off the black button-down he’d been wearing and tossed it in the laundry on the way to his bedroom. The pent-up frustration from earlier added power to the shot and sent the shirt over the basket onto the floor beside the washer.

Christian let out a groan and chased his wayward shirt, throwing it toward the basket only to miss

the mark again. “Shit!” He grabbed the material and shoved it into the plastic container, stuffing the fabric deep into the hamper.

Fucking Jared King. He was a person Christian had tried to avoid. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. At first, he’d had a crush the size of Mount Rushmore on the man. God, Christian had fantasized about Jared and used that one perfect kiss and his imagination to jerk off more than his fair share of orgasms. But minus that one kiss and those few kind words on a Christmas Eve two years ago, the man had been nothing but a fucking ass. Over the last two years, he’d treated Christian like something he’d stepped on and couldn’t scrape off.

Family gatherings with the Kings had become an exercise in endurance. Good Lord, if he ever found himself alone in the same room with Jared, the sexual tension between them skyrocketed, and the inevitable happened. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t resist Jared. He’d tried. Lord knew he’d tried, but each and every time Jared cornered him, he’d crumble like clay in the man’s hands.

Ahh… those fantastic hands and magic fingers. Fuck! No! He was done being used by Jared King.

Why couldn’t he resist that damn man?

Well, that was too easy to answer. Christian knew only too well why he shouldn’t be alone with Jared. It was the chemistry between them. The man’s smell and taste were addictive. He lusted after Jared King like he was the only fresh water available on a desert island. Even with the caustic sexual tug of war they waged, Christian couldn’t stop his body’s draw toward the man.

He pulled his hands through his hair again. The dick had treated him like he was a bloodsucking leech tonight, and yet Christian still wanted him. His cock pulsed and pushed against his zipper. The damn thing was as hard as diamonds, and it was all because of that sexy bastard.

Christian pulled off his jeans and groaned when he reached into his boxers and palmed his cock. Fuck, the memory of Jared’s hard body and his unique smell was still imprinted on his senses, and those things did a royal number on his libido. As much as he didn’t want to jerk off to the pornographic thoughts and visions of Jared in his mind, his angry cock told him he wouldn’t have an option.

Christian turned to drop into his bed just as percussive banging echoed through the small apartment. In three steps he had a baseball bat palmed and was heading toward the door. Once again the hinged wood shook with the force of the pounding it received.

“Open the fucking door, Christian!” Jared’s voice raged from the other side.

Christian flipped and planted his back against the door. His eyes searched the small apartment as if something in the room could make Jared magically disappear. Fuck, what did he do now?

The door literally moved in and out under the demands of Jared’s fist. The expensive-as-fuck deadbolt was the only thing keeping the entryway from opening under the assault.

“Leave me the fuck alone, you psychotic asshole!” Christian shouted between fists hammering on the door. Damn it, the man needed to leave before his neighbors called the cops.

“Let me in, now.” The low and menacing response growled back at him through the door.

“Seriously? Why the fuck would I do that?”

“What’s the matter, Christian? You afraid to man up? You throw a drink on me and leave like a princess in distress. Going to run to Jason for some coddling, too?” Jared mocked him from behind the door.

The back of his head hit the door repeatedly as he tried to control his fucking temper. He knew he couldn’t best Jared in a fight, but he’d damn well do some damage. He’d been training for the last two years using a weightlifting and kickboxing program Jason had developed for him.

The pounding started again, and a sickening snap rent the air. Christian bolted away from where he’d leaned and stared at the damage. The wood had literally cracked.

Christian cranked the deadbolt and threw the door open, causing Jared to stumble forward slightly.

“You’re paying for that, asshole!”

Jared straightened and glared at Christian. “Do you really think a baseball bat is going to stop me?”

Christian looked down at his hand, remembering the weapon he’d gripped before he knew Jared was the maniac at his door. He flipped the thing and tossed it to the couch. “I don’t need anything to defend myself against you, and you’re paying to replace that door, you fuckwad.”

Jared slammed the damaged door shut and stalked up to Christian, but he held his ground and braced, anticipating Jared throwing a punch. Even so, when the man’s hand flashed forward and gripped his throat, pinning him onto the wall, he was momentarily stunned. Before he could dislodge Jared’s hand, the man’s thigh separated Christian’s legs, and he leaned his body in, rubbing his rock-hard erection against Christian’s. The dampness of his shirt and jeans coupled with the distinct smell of whiskey only intensified the sensations of the moment. Everything about the man in front of him seemed magnified and crystal clear, even his whiskey-enhanced musk.

“Answering your door in your underwear? Trying to flaunt all the muscles you’ve developed?” The deep reverberation of his voice and the warmth of his breath as he whispered against Christian’s cheek sent a bolt of electricity through his body. His cock wept behind the material of his Michael Kors briefs. Embarrassed rage blinded him, and he reacted, bucking hard against Jared’s body and almost forcing the larger man off before Jared braced and lunged forward, slamming Christian backward again. The impact of the shove expelled all the air from his lungs.

Jared tightened the hold on his neck and grabbed one of his arms, pinning it to the door.

Christian grabbed the arm that was holding his neck to the door and ground out his answer through clenched teeth, glaring at the man pinning him. “You broke the fucking door down. I didn’t invite you, and I don’t want you here! I’d rather die than come on to you.”

“You hate me that much?” Jared pumped his hips forward, grinding his erection into Christian’s. He groaned and clenched against the growing waves of sensation and desire as Jared’s rhythmic thrusts burst like tiny explosions through his nerve endings. “Seems your body hasn’t gotten the message.”

Jared’s mouth slammed over Christian’s. The connection wasn’t a kiss. It was a contest for domination, a continuation of the struggle between them. Teeth, tongues and lips fighting against the pull that tied the two of them together as surely as if they were bound with rope. Christian felt it, and he knew Jared did too. His hands were suddenly released, and he buried one into Jared’s lush black hair. He wrapped the other tighter around the taller man as if pulling Jared closer could actually happen.

The hand that held his neck moved up to his jaw and angled his face, enabling Jared to deepen and slow the kiss. The emotion behind the assault changed, no less intense but becoming possessive, rather than combative. Christian felt Jared’s other hand breach the waistband of his boxers. The material dropped to the floor, exposing his hot, hard cock.

He scrambled to undo Jared’s slacks. The button and zipper took a few seconds and a couple of bumbled attempts to deal with before he was able to palm Jared’s incredibly hard, deliciously thick shaft. Christian pushed at the material, freeing Jared, and dropped his other hand to cup the man’s heavy, full balls. The deep moan when he rolled them in his hand encouraged him to do it again. Jared broke the kiss long enough to spit in his hand and cup both of their cocks together.

Christian could have passed out from the decadent sensations of both of their shafts fucking Jared’s hand—sweet friction, heat and that building sensation of reaching toward something so powerful

it scared him. Jared’s body and presence stunned his mind into inactivity. Christian’s body, need and lust always took over when they were in the same room. Skin-to-skin? He had no defenses.

None.

Jared’s lips found his again, and the kiss swept him away in a river of desire. Only the need to breathe forced him to pull away from Jared’s kiss. He dropped his head to Jared’s shoulder and drew harsh, deep pulls of air. His mind registered the overwhelming sensations of Jared’s body against his. He grabbed the rock-hard muscles of Jared’s biceps and tried to warn him that he was close, but coherent speech was impossible.

He bit down hard on the muscle where Jared’s neck joined his shoulder when his balls drew up and his body convulsed in release. Light burst behind his closed eyelids and intense bolts of sensation tore through him. Jared continued to pump, grinding his cock against Christian’s, sending another and then a third blast of his own come onto his chest and hand. Christian sucked in a breath and whimpered as Jared continued to work their shafts. The sensation straddled the border of pleasure and bumped up against pain. Jared stiffened and threw back his head, roaring as he came. Warm, white ropes hit Christian’s chest and abs, mixing with his own release.

They stilled, holding each other up, Christian’s cock still circled by Jared’s hand. He lifted his head from Jared’s shoulder and shuddered as the aftershock of one of the best orgasms of his life hit hard and ran through him. He leaned back against the wall, pulling out of Jared’s grip.

The awkwardness of the situation settled immediately. Shame, remorse and self-loathing battled for the lead spot in Christian’s mind. No… just… no. He’d fucking done it again! He took a deep breath and moved off the wall, brushing past Jared. He reached down, grabbing his boxers.

This time, he wasn’t going to let Jared walk away with the last word. He wasn’t going to be the one left wondering what in the hell he’d done wrong. Christian lifted and squared his shoulders.

He looked Jared in the eye before he spoke in a voice that was surprisingly calm. “Get out. Now.” If he had to guess at the expression on Jared’s face, the closest he could come would be shock.

Some other emotion mixed with the shock, something Christian chose not to label that appeared suspiciously like… hurt. He knew for a fact Jared didn’t have it in him to be hurt—especially by him.

Christian turned and walked down the hall, naked and horrified that he’d succumbed to whatever the fuck it was Jared and he ignited. He slammed his bedroom door and leaned back against it. His bravado crumpled at his feet. He knew Jared wouldn’t follow him. It wasn’t the way they played the game. The small sounds from the living room carried to him, as did the click of the front door as it shut.

Christian walked into his bathroom and started the shower. Tonight was the final straw. He needed to separate himself from all things Jared King before he lost more than just his sanity. Fuck, he needed to stay away from the man, because if he didn’t, he’d end up with a broken heart. Again.

This wasn’t a teenage crush over one kiss. The unbridled and powerful sexual tension that had built between them over the last two years was like a nuclear explosion waiting to detonate.

Ultimately, the fallout from any attempted relationship with Jared King would be toxic and debilitating—for Christian. Not that Jared wanted a relationship.

He let the hot water run over him, washing the evidence of his latest failure to keep Jared King out of his life down the drain. He grabbed the soap and started to scrub. He’d had enough of the drama between them. The hot and cold… no, the blazing heat of hell couldn’t compare to the inferno that burned between them. The subzero cold of the Antarctic couldn’t describe the way Jared treated him after they’d foolishly given in and… and what… gotten off? If only their—he couldn’t call it a relationship, so whatever it was—could be categorized. He couldn’t keep fooling

himself. There wasn’t any chance of a relationship, and he didn’t want whatever this love-slashhate-slash-obsession was anymore. The only course of action would be to separate himself from all things associated with Jared King. He’d do it. He’d worked out a repayment plan for the money he owed Jason and Doc, and it was time to get on with his life. The only smart course of action was to leave all the Kings and never look back.

Chapter Three Washington, D.C., over a year later, which also happens to be today…

Christian waited patiently outside Jason King’s office and contemplated that stupid saying, “The best-laid plans of mice and men.” More than a year had passed since he’d initiated any contact with the Kings, and today was the first time he’d come to the facility where they worked. Guardian Security, the largest private security company in the world, was a fortress in the heart of Washington, D.C. However, unless you knew, you’d never guess the unassuming building housed a multi-billion-dollar company. There were no signs—nothing to draw attention to the facility.

When Christian pulled his old truck up to the gate, the amount of security he encountered was beyond impressive.

It took him over thirty minutes to get through all the checkpoints and searches and be issued a visitor’s badge. The King brothers sat at the helm of the company that ran circles around other alphabet agencies around the world. That wasn’t just Christian’s opinion.

Every reporter who spotlighted the company came to the same conclusion. Right or left wing, the media all lauded the organization, its methods, and results. For a private company, it had intense public scrutiny which, Christian hated to admit, he followed like a Guardian groupie.

He justified his Google searches and alerts by reminding himself that Jason King had been his quasi-savior and mentor. The man was the Chief Executive Officer for both the International and Domestic branches that his brothers ran, so his fascination with all things Guardian had a legitimate foundation.

Nothing about the Kings made the news, except for Jared King, the face of Guardian. And fuck, what a beautiful face. If he allowed himself to look at his obsession in the light of day, he’d find his rationale for following Guardian’s press like a lovesick teen incredibly weak. The real reason he devoured every article about Guardian was one he’d never admit out loud, but it was also one he couldn’t deny. He still wanted Jared King.

Christian tried to relax as he waited in the outer offices of the organization’s CEO. The grandeur of the executive offices matched the persona of all the Kings—bold, dynamic and tasteful. Even though he’d been included in their lives for a short period of time, a certain amount of awe and, if he was honest, trepidation, accompanied his interactions with anyone but Jason. He caressed the folder in his lap. It held so much more than the words and photographs depicted. He

stroked the side where several layers of tape held the manila cardstock together. His fingers lightly rubbed the curled tab as he tried to quell the unrelenting sense of dread that seemed to flow from its contents.

“Christian? Can I get you something while you wait?” Sonya asked. He’d spoken to Jason’s secretary numerous times on the telephone. The woman’s personality was as huge as her stature was small. The tiny woman teetered from behind her desk on six-inch platform heels.

“No ma’am, thank you.” His gut was twisted enough without adding anything to the mix.

“He shouldn’t be long now. The meeting has ended, but it seems they always have a few sidebar issues to work.” Sonya’s words caused him to glance up again. He knew she’d had to juggle several meetings to fit him in this afternoon. He wouldn’t have called and asked for an appointment if the D.C. cops had been willing to look at the information he’d gathered. The overweight asshole who’d met with him this morning hadn’t even pretended to care about Christian’s concerns. Jason was his last chance. Hell, maybe he was imagining things. Everyone, up to and including the blob behind the badge this morning, seemed to think he’d taken a vacation from reality. But… “Christian? Dude, what are you doing here?” Jacob King strode into Jason’s reception wearing a sweat-stained, black battle-dress uniform and three guns—that Christian could see.

He stood and offered a hand, knowing full well the giant of a man in front of him would pull him in for a hug that would probably rearrange his spine and one or more internal organs. Christian grimaced at the force the behemoth put into his handshake and almost lost the contents of his folder when Jacob pulled him forcibly into a bear hug.

“Did you just get back from a war?” Christian pushed at Jacob’s unmovable chest and put his hand over his nose, gagging as air finally filled his lungs. “Shit, dude, you stink.”

Jacob threw his head back and laughed before he released him. “Nah, man. No war, just a little op.”

“I know you won, because if the enemy smelled you, they’d be unconscious—or dead.” Sonya chirped in from across the room.

“Whoa! Now, come on. Y’all are going to give me a complex. I’m just checking in before I go home.”

“Shower first.” Christian and Sonya said at the same time. Christian smothered a laugh at the look Jacob gave both of them.

The glass doors opened, flooding the room with a mass of people. In the center was the massive form of Jason King. He paused in the middle of the reception area, rattled off instructions, and people scurried. When the last hovering suit left, Jason stopped suddenly and drew a deep breath. “Holy shit, Jacob, ever hear of a shower? You reek, man.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark.” Jacob laughed and plopped down on the overstuffed leather sofa.

“You stain that, and you’ve bought it.” Sonya jabbed her tiny red-tipped finger directly at Jacob.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jacob tossed her a cheeky smile and turned back to Jason. “I’m just checking in before I head home. By the way, I’m taking a couple days off. Got to get reacquainted with Tori and the boys. I never thought I’d say it, but I hate being in the field.”

“Believe me, I get that, but this one needed someone I trusted completely at the helm.” Jason half-leaned, half-sat on the edge of Sonya’s desk. She swatted him with a folder, and when he moved, she slid a stack of papers from under his leg before he sat down again.

“Roger, I copy that. We did what needed to be done. The… package… was delivered safe and sound. Just wanted to tell you I’m back, but don’t call me until Monday if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m shaking in my boots, little man.” Jason drawled and motioned toward the door.

“Seriously, out, now. You stink.”

“All right, all right. Can’t imagine why a little ripe man smell is so offensive. Christian, you need to stop by the house. Haven’t seen you in… shit… how long has it been now?” Jacob lifted off the couch. “I promise we won’t ask you to babysit. Just drop by for dinner or a drink.”

Christian nodded. He hated not seeing Tori and the kids—four boys now, Talon, Trace, Tanner, and Tristin—but separating from the King family had been a necessity.

“I’ll try to stop by.” He did love the family and the boys, but never again would he willingly go to one of the King’s residences and risk exposure to the one man on the planet he never wanted to see.

Jacob saluted on the way out the door. Jason stood and motioned Christian toward his office, grabbing a handful of messages from Sonya before he led the way to his inner sanctum. Guardian’s CEO’s suite was phenomenal in an old-world sort of way, with high plaster ceilings crossed by dark beams and dark rich wood paneling. The carpet and drapes were done in gold and cream colors, but the thing that drew you into the room was a hand-drawn map of the world etched on a gold-leaf background. The majestic map took up the entire thirty-foot wall behind Jason’s desk, dwarfing the man, which wasn’t easy to do. Tiny black stars dotted the map.

“What do the stars mean?” Christian’s asked before he could censor himself.

“Each one represents a life saved.” Jason turned to look at the map. “It reminds me how important Guardian is to so many who wouldn’t otherwise find justice.”

Jason took a seat in a conversation group on the far side of the vast office and motioned to a chair next to him. Christian sank into the butter-soft leather. “So explain to me why I haven’t seen you in over a year?”

Christian lowered his eyes to his folder and stroked the taped edge again. He knew coming back would be hard, but the reason outweighed any pain associated with inserting himself back into this environment. He glanced at the multitude of small stars on the map and allowed himself to hope.

“I’ve been busy.” A weak answer, but not necessarily a lie.

“Too busy to come see even one of Reece’s baseball games? Too busy to come to Faith and my anniversary party? Too busy to visit with Tori and see the boys? Damn man, you must be working 24/7.” Christian felt the mockery bullet hit smack dab in the center of his chest exactly where Jason had aimed, but he’d take the bullet because he deserved it.

“Look, I’m really not here to talk about me. Or… maybe I am… see, I need help, and the D.C. police won’t look into the information I have. Jason, I can’t afford to hire Guardian for what you normally charge, but I’ll pay you as much as I can each month.” Shit, he could downsize his apartment or sell his truck if needed. “I just need someone to look at this and tell me I’m not fucking crazy.” Christian felt his face heat from the emotional toll it took to come and beg for help.

He looked down and picked at the tape holding his folder together. His hair fell forward on his face. He needed to get it trimmed. It fell well past his shoulders now and had become a pain in the ass to manage.

A huge hand settled over his fingers, stilling their motion. Christian kept his eyes on the folder.

If he looked up, Jason would read him like an open book. The man had never had a problem knowing exactly what was eating at him.

Jason’s other hand lifted his chin and forced his eyes up. “You never have to worry about paying anyone in this organization. You’re family.”

Christian pulled his face away and blew out a snort. “We all know I’m a charity case you and Doc took under your wings. Believe me, I have been reminded of it, and I know it. But Jason, these kids… they need help.”

“Where in the name of everything holy would you get an idea like that? Have I ever treated you like a charity case?”

“No, you’ve always been very kind.” Christian rose and tucked his file against his chest.

“Look, I didn’t think this through far enough.” He pointed toward the stacks of folders on the man’s desk. “I’ll find somebody else to take a look at this. You’ve obviously got enough on your plate.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Just sit down. Let me clear some time and we’ll look at whatever you have in that folder.”

Jason raked his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. Christian gripped the tattered folder and turned toward the outer office while his mind did mental gymnastics deciding whether or not to stay.

His decision was made for him in the time it took to open a door, because that was the amount of time it took to register that Jared King and another man had entered Jason’s office through an entrance on the opposite side. Fuck, he was frozen to the spot. He couldn’t move if he tried.

Christian’s stomach rolled. He’d prayed all morning he could make it in and out of the Guardian offices without seeing Jared.

Luck most assuredly wasn’t on his side today. His gaze riveted on Jared’s strong features. He wore his hair longer now. His body appeared more muscled, and his face was leaner. His smooth, stalking gate hadn’t changed, still threatening and sexy.

“The Singleton case goes to court next week…” The tall man walking beside Jared paused when he saw Christian. It seemed Guardian only employed one type of person. The strong and confident type. Of course, the people of Guardian came in different shades and versions, but those two core traits never varied. He watched as Jared looked up from the documents he was holding when his companion didn’t finish his statement. His relaxed demeanor changed, but the ice cold indifference Christian expected failed to crystallize in Jared’s vibrant green eyes this time. No doubt due to the office environment.

Christian held back the shiver that ghosted down his spine. Never let it be said that Jared King didn’t make an impression.

“Christian, what are you doing here?” Jared asked.

Christian swallowed hard. He’d worked through this very scenario a million times in his mind.

He’d sworn to himself that if he ever saw Jared again he’d act with restraint.

“I’m here because I have an appointment to speak with Jason.” Christian straightened his shoulders and flipped his hair back.

Jared’s eyes traveled over him. The man’s questioning look wasn’t caustic, but Christian knew it would be, sooner rather than later. He’d be damned if he’d let his guard down. He wasn’t hiding from Jared. He’d made himself a promise. He’d avoid the man, but if Jared ever confronted him, he’d act like the man he’d become, not the boy he’d once been.

Jason stood and nodded at the men. “Jared, Nicolas. Good, come in. Christian was just about to explain to me why he needed an appointment.”

The man identified as Nicolas walked over and extended his hand. “Good to meet you. I’m Nicolas Demarco, the Chief Operations Officer for the domestic portion of Guardian Security.”

He nodded towards Jared. “His counterpart. And you are?”

Christian took the man’s hand as he spoke. “Christian Koehler. I’m a friend of Jason’s.” From the glance Nicolas gave Jared, he’d caught Christian’s subtle snub, but the statement was a fact.

There was no way on God’s green earth Jared was his friend.

Jason loosened his tie before he sat at a small conference table. “I’m free for the next hour.

Sonya will bring some refreshments momentarily. Gentlemen, let’s hear what Christian has to say.

If you have any scheduled appointments, cancel them.”

“Nicolas and I have a meeting that we shouldn’t…” Jared turned toward the door he’d entered.

Nicolas grabbed his arm. “No, the judicial brief was canceled. We’re clear until our daily update at sixteen hundred.”

Christian pretended he didn’t see the questioning look Jared threw at Nicolas. From the amused smirk on Nicolas’ face, he was enjoying the tension in the room.

Jason leaned back and glanced from Christian to Jared. “Look, I don’t know what the continuing beef is between you two. At this point, I really don’t have the time or energy to care.

Whatever it is, get over it, because I’m done tip-toeing around the fact that you two seem to hate each other. Grow the fuck up. Now, Christian, you have our undivided attention.” Jason glanced over his shoulder at Jared. “As soon as my brother sits his ass down.” Jared rolled his eyes, but pulled out a chair and sat down with a long sigh. Jason grunted and turned to Christian. “Now, please tell us why you believe you need the services of Guardian.”

Christian lifted the tattered folder onto the polished wood table. He cleared his throat and focused his attention on Jason, disregarding the heated stare coming from the other side of the table. “As you know, I went to work as an intern at a small youth center during my last year of college.” At Jason’s nod, he continued. “Because of my background, I worked with the teens the shelter deemed at risk—the ones without any support systems, the ones who had been abused or abandoned. In the six months I worked there, two of my teens went missing. These were good kids, not on drugs. They were working towards their GEDs and had a real shot at a future.”

“So you want us to look for two kids who went missing… when… over a year ago?” Christian drew a deep breath at Jared’s question but continued to look at Jason as he spoke.

“Since then I’ve taken a full-time position as a social worker for a nonprofit organization called Tenus. The founder established it as a kind of watchdog organization. Tenus funds several private programs that focus on assisting all at-risk children, not just those who might live in local shelters or in the foster system. We also attempt to identify those on the periphery. Tenus is a safety net for those who’d run at the sight of a badge or the mention of being returned home. In the year that I have worked with Tenus, in the age group I monitor, the thirteen-to-eighteen-yearolds, five have disappeared.”

Christian opened his folder and laid out photos of attractive, happy children. He named them as he placed them on the conference table. “Angie, Lisa, Kyisha, Christy, Scott, Mason and Paul.

Among the five children who have disappeared during my time at Tenus, and the two during my internship, there is a common thread. They were all placed into the same privately-funded program.”

“How is that relevant? These are kids that live on the streets, right? A few kids moving on, getting involved with drugs or prostitution, isn’t beyond the realm of possibility.” Jared’s question stopped Christian’s commentary.

He glanced at both of the men across the table.

“I agree with Jared on this one.” Nicolas shrugged and worked a pen between his fingers.

“Five at-risk kids going missing in over a year’s time span isn’t a happy picture, but it’s one we’ve seen time and time again.”

“Seven in total.” Christian tapped the two pictures of the children that had gone missing while he was doing his internship.

“Seven,” Nicolas acknowledged before he looked at Jason. “I was a detective working the same streets his kids are living on before I came on with Guardian. Unless there is other supporting evidence of foul play, I can’t justify spending time on this. Finding these kids would be like looking for a needle buried not under one, but under ten haystacks.”

Jared and Jason studied the photos. Christian ventured a glance at them before continuing.

“They all disappeared from the same program. Do you notice anything about these kids?”

“Nothing in particular; they’re good looking kids.” Jason leaned back from the table after he spoke. Christian cringed inwardly. If he lost Jason’s interest, he didn’t have a chance of helping his kids.

He leaned forward and pointed to each picture, four girls and three boys. “Exactly. They are beautiful girls and handsome boys. I don’t think they ran off. I think they were taken because they are good looking.”

Nicolas sat back in his seat. “Your assumption is someone is taking these kids, not that they wandered away?”

Christian nodded.

“What makes you jump to that conclusion? What would be the rationale behind the abduction?

Is there any reason to think there is a link here other than the fact they are or were street kids?”

Nicolas leaned forward. “What we have is five kids missing—seven if you count the two that were no-shows at your internship. Five were placed in a highly selective program that may or may not link them, but there’s absolutely no way of knowing if there was any foul play other than your gut telling you something isn’t right.” Nicolas’ words laid bare the entirety of Christian’s concerns.

“Yes.” Nicolas leaned forward and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Okay, so just like we do for every case we consider taking, we’ll list the pros and cons. Cons: The theory is too thin. Gut instinct is good, but we need facts. The bottom line is there is no evidence of a crime, only suspicion. The man hours it will take just to do the ground work on this case will be substantial.

Hard to justify that expenditure on mere suspicion.”

Jason retorted, “Pros: Christian knows these kids. If he thinks there is something going on, that stands for a hell of a lot in my book.”

“I wouldn’t take it if someone else came to me with it. Why haven’t you given it to the D.C. police?” Nicolas fired back at Christian.

“I did. They refused to investigate.”

“I rest my case. Sorry, kid. I vote no. It would be a waste of our time and resources.” Nicolas pushed the photograph nearest to him back toward the manila folder at Christian’s elbow.

Christian hesitated slightly before he placed a finger on the photo and slid it back to Nicolas.

“This is Angie. She was a sweet, beautiful girl filled with dreams and ambition. She was funny and creative. Angie lived in the backseat of a car in a junkyard—and had perfect attendance at school. One of her teachers tipped us off to her when they saw her washing her clothes in the gym showers during a vacation break.” He slapped another picture down. “This is Mason. I’d just helped him complete his application for an academic scholarship to college. He’s not your ordinary street kid. I might never know what happened to them, but I’ll be damned if I’ll stop trying to find

out. If you won’t help me, I’ll try somewhere else.” He hadn’t dropped his cause at the first ‘no’, and he wouldn’t stop now. Somehow, someway, he’d make someone listen. Christian reached for the rest of his pictures. “Jason, thank you for…”

Jared reached slowly across the table and pulled a photo from under Christian’s fingers. “I disagree with you, Nic. It is a weak case, and no, we shouldn’t divert resources to investigate, but I have at least a month’s worth of vacation time coming. I’ll take the case. If I can’t find something in a month’s time, Guardian isn’t out a dime and HR is off my back about using some of my vacation.”

The metered tick-tock of the massive grandfather clock behind the conversation group punctuated the profound silence that settled over the room. Christian took a chance and looked up into those jade colored eyes. A hint of a smile played at Jared’s full lips. Anger boiled through his veins. These children were not pawns in Jared’s games. Absolutely not. The arrogant bastard. He’d find another way.

“No.” The sharp retort escaped before his brain engaged.

“I agree. No.” All three men snapped their heads in Jason’s direction.

“What the fuck? I offer to take my own time, and I get vetoed?” Jared launched to his feet.

“Nicolas, find me someone with solid investigative experience. Someone who is between cases and wouldn’t mind working a situation that is personal to us.” Jason pushed away from the table and stood up.

“You mean you’ll take the case?” Christian grabbed at the hope he’d been ready to toss out the window.

“Just hold the fuck…” Jared’s words came to an abrupt halt as Sonya walked in with an assortment of soft drinks and a pitcher of iced tea. She smiled up at Jared and proffered the tray, expecting him to relieve her of her burden. When he did, she smiled, did an about face and promptly left the room. Jared dropped the silver tray onto the table with a resounding clatter of glasses and silverware. “Jason, a word,” Jared growled through clenched teeth.

“Of course. Gentlemen, would you mind?” Jason smiled, seemingly unaffected by his brother’s clenched jaw and ramrod straight posture. Christian gladly gathered his paperwork and headed toward the door. He’d seen those two square off head-to-head on several occasions, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near the fallout.

Nicolas patted him on the shoulder on the way past. “Dude, way to poke the fucking bear.

Death wish much?” He turned his head and spoke over his shoulder. “Sonya, I’m heading to my office. If the big man needs me, give me a call, and I’ll be back in a heartbeat.”

“Okay, thanks.” Sonya watched Nicolas depart and turned her attention to Christian. “So… it was just a little tense in there. Do I need to call Jacob back to referee?”

“And have all three of them pissed? No, thank you, ma’am.”

Sonya chuckled and nodded towards the side table. “Water and soda in the cabinet to your right if you’re thirsty. You weren’t in there long enough to grab anything.”

“Thanks.” Christian took a bottle of water and collapsed on one of the leather couches in the reception area. He sent up a prayer of thanks that Jared wouldn’t be working the case. Who investigated really shouldn’t matter. But it did.

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