Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)

“For years? Why the interest?”

“Because I’m the reason Maldonado is who he is. We created him. Cleared his path. Our mission had been to eliminate the head of the Cali cartel. In those days Maldonado had been an up-and-coming lieutenant and we served control of the cartel to him on a platter. We should have killed him when we had the chance, but we didn’t. It was a bad call.” He’d been considered the lesser evil, but time had proven them wrong. Maldonado had been even more sanguinary and vicious than his predecessors. Playing God had backfired on Jack and his team.

“And Exxum?” she asked softly.

“High-profile philanthropist who rubs elbows with the cream of the crop. Fills his mouth with big words and in the meantime smuggles arms into conflict countries disguised as humanitarian help. Totally untouchable. You did well back there, pet.”

“You mean on my back with my legs up?”

He chuckled. “At the gala. When the fucker fished for your name I almost had a heart attack.”

“I’m quick on my feet,” she said with a shrug. After a pause, she added, “Jack, I will not fight you on the small stuff. On who pays for what, or stupidities like that, but in what matters, I will fight you tooth and nail. Never doubt it.”

“What matters?” he asked softly.

“You know very well. I understand the kind of man you are, how you need to make decisions and have control over everything. And I will cut you a lot of slack because of it, but I will not yield to you and lose myself in you. I won’t give up my autonomy or my decision-making skills. I will not change myself for you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to, pet. You need to stay the way you are and it’s my job to protect you and make sure you do.” He turned to her and tipped her chin up. “You do know me. I have told you things I haven’t told anyone. Things very few people know about me. And when you say nothing affects me? You are wrong, pet; you affect me. A shitload. I don’t want you to, I actually hated it, but you do. More than you think.”

He forced his mouth shut, before he said God only knew what. This was temporary, and it was suicide to want more than sex. Wanting something you couldn’t have was a recipe for disaster.

Elle, psychic radar that she was, didn’t poke in that direction. “So you are one of the good guys.”

Fuck, this direction wasn’t much better. “No, I’m not.”

She ignored him. “What are you, a member of some elite, ultrasecret special ops force in the military?”

“I’m not in the army any more, pet. I was dishonorably discharged.”

Elle looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean dishonorably discharged?”

He hadn’t wanted to tell her about it, but he couldn’t let her believe he was something he wasn’t. “I mean arrested, court-martialed, and dishonorably discharged.” From the only place that he’d ever belonged to. The army had been his life; being a Green Beret had defined his existence.

“What? Don’t tell me your cock piercing got you discharged.”

He would have bet good money he couldn’t crack a smile while talking about his dishonorable discharge, but he found himself barking a laugh. “No, you crazy woman.”

She studied him for a second, then shook her head. “They made a mistake.”

“I haven’t told you what happened.”

“Doesn’t matter. Whatever it was, they made a mistake and it was their loss.”

“I disobeyed orders and beat the shit out of a superior.”

She shrugged. “Just that? They court-martial people for nothing nowadays. And I’m sure he deserved it.”

Yes, he did, but that didn’t change the fact that the asshole was his superior. The military tended to take offense at that. It had happened during that same covert operation that had allowed Maldonado’s rise. Everything had gone according to plan until the extraction; then it all had gone to hell. That the asshole had freaked out and gotten half their team killed and that Jack had saved the rest by taking charge hadn’t mattered either. Rules were rules. And his superior had been well connected. Military family, four generations, while Jack was just a mutt with a short fuse and little to no diplomatic skills.

James had backed him up the whole time. In that fucking jungle and later, during the trial, he’d never faltered.

“Just that?” He repeated her words. “What else do you need?”

“Well, it’s not like you killed someone, is it?”

He stilled. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you mean. But I was a soldier for most of my adult life, so drop those rose-colored glasses you watch me through. I’ve killed many people. I believe most of them deserved it.”

“Most of them?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

“Some shot at me before I could confirm their backgrounds, so the jury’s still out.”

Elle Aycart's books