“I know, but –”
Eddie interrupted me again, “One of the best. Lee was trained by the Army. Monty was trained by the Navy. Luke, I don’t know but it was an official operation and he’s definitely had training, specialized training. Vance is an ex-con. He’d lived a life of crime since he was thirteen years old, would likely stil be in that life, he was so good at it. He only got caught because his buddy was shot while they were stealin’ a car and Vance didn’t leave him behind. Lee channeled his natural abilities, trainin’ him in other shit and he took to it. Mace is self-taught. Lee didn’t have to do any training with Mace.”
“Self-taught?”
“Self-taught.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means, between his sister gettin’ murdered and Lee recruitin’ him, he’d gone from a surfer and snowboarder to acquirin’ skil s that had nothin’ to do with sex wax.”
I blinked again. “Sex wax?”
“Yeah, you use it on your surfboard for foot traction, on the bottom of a snowboard to reduce friction.” My brows drew together. “How do you know that?” He grinned. “Been boardin’ with Mace.”
I blinked (yes, again), mainly because this was insane.
Eddie and I had been together for over nine months, we were getting married in a little over five and this was news to me.
“You board?”
His grin deepened to a smile. “I live in Colorado, chiquita.”
So did I but I didn’t snowboard or ski, for that matter, that took money, something I’d never had.
“You didn’t board last winter,” I commented.
“I had somethin’ to keep me at home last winter.” This time I didn’t blink but my stomach did a happy curl.
I ignored it and got back to the subject.
“So, these skil s –”
He rol ed into me so he was mostly on me. “What I’m sayin’ is, somethin’ went down after the bloodbath. Mace disappeared off radar. No more competitive boardin’, reneged on his endorsements. The kidnapping and murder made the news, big story. It happened in LA. Mace was famous, his Dad wel -known. But, after it was over, there was nothin’ from Mace. He vanished. He didn’t resurface was nothin’ from Mace. He vanished. He didn’t resurface until Lee recruited him and he recruited him for a reason.
Al Lee’s boys have a specialty. Mace’s is one you don’t need to know.”
“But –”
His hand came to the side of my face and his eyes got serious.
“You don’t need to know,” he repeated in a way I knew he wasn’t going to tel me and I knew, no matter what I tried, he wouldn’t tel me.
Then his hands started roaming and his head moved so his mouth was at my neck. I knew he was looking for a way to turn my mind to different, far more pleasant things but I pul ed my neck away and wrapped my fingers around one of his wrists to stop his hands from roaming.
“Eddie.”
“Shit, I know that ‘Eddie’,” he muttered into my neck with more than a little frustration. Eddie, by the way, had quickly become an expert in al the ways I could communicate by just saying his name, therefore, this time, he knew it was my turn to be serious. His head came up and he looked into my eyes.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“No,” Eddie answered bluntly. “But he wil be, soon as this shit’s over and Stel a gives in.”
“Pardon?”
Eddie sighed then touched my mouth with his and dropped his forehead to mine, his thumb stroking my jaw.
When he spoke, he did it softly. “Lotta wounds don’t heal, Jet. Seein’ your sister’s head get blown off, I suspect, is one of ‘em. Havin’ a Dad, and not havin’ one, I’m thinkin’
you understand, is another. You got a good woman in your life, even though the wounds stay open, you move on, live life. The pain doesn’t go away but life has a different focus.
A better one.”
He was right. I had a Dad but didn’t have one most of my life. That wound had never healed. My Dad was an inveterate gambler. He was around a lot more now, getting his life sorted but he could fal off the wagon at any time. My sister and I lived with that knowledge and the fear that went with it and it was no fun.
Finding Eddie and believing in us had given my life a different focus.
A better one.
However, with the recent, newly acquired knowledge that my fiancé, Detective Eddie Badass Chavez, snowboarded and his innate understanding of Mace’s wounds, worried me.
My hands slid up the sleek, muscled skin of his back, one stopping at his shoulder blade, the other one sliding up his neck, my fingers sifting into his hair.
“Do you have a wound that won’t heal?” I asked quietly and braced myself for his answer.
He lifted his forehead from mine and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
“Lived a lucky life, mi peque?a, ” he muttered, his eyes coming back to mine and they were again liquid but this time also fil ed with tenderness and affection and I felt my heart skip a beat. “And, alabado sea Dios, it keeps gettin’