He’d talked to Ariel about the dreams. What he’d never told her was that every time he looked up to take in Dr. McDonald’s face before she erased him, he’d seen his own staring back.
The person in his nightmares was always, always himself.
“I don’t understand how you joke about it,” he said quietly. “I know I laugh and play along, but inside I’m not. Inside I think maybe I’m more broken than the rest of you.”
Why the fuck had that popped out? He hadn’t even had more than two sips of the whiskey and soda Jax had placed in his hand.
Maybe that was the problem. He wasn’t drinking enough. He wasn’t following his usual pattern, and it was fucking with him hard.
He was about to chuckle and pretend he was joking when Robert put a hand on his shoulder.
“No, brother, it’s only that I’ve been broken longer than you,” he said solemnly. “I’ve been broken for years, and you’ll find that if you let it, some of those broken pieces will heal. They won’t be the same, but you’ll find ways to cope that aren’t about trying to obliterate yourself. Ezra talked to me this afternoon. He’s optimistic that this is going to work better than our original plan.”
“I don’t know about that,” he admitted, storing Robert’s words for later examination. Was he trying to obliterate himself? Was that why he got drunk and thought about starting fights he knew he couldn’t win? He’d been in a bar brawl in Colorado and a fierce joy had lit through him when he’d realized how serious the man he’d fought had been about trying to kill him. It had occurred to him that this might be an excellent way to go out.
Not fade away. Never fade. He should go out in a blaze of glory.
“Stop it with the doubt, man,” Robert said. “There’s no place for it. When Dr. Walsh gets here, you need to charm her. This is all about forgetting everything but the mission.”
A gentle chime went through the apartment and he was shocked at how his whole body seemed to go on alert.
River winked his way as she headed for the door, Buster hard on her heels.
Jax had found something special in Colorado. He’d found a family, was building a home, and it had nothing at all to do with some house. Jax’s home wasn’t found in four walls and carpet. It was there in River. In the way she smiled at him, in how she believed so much in him she’d walked away from everything she’d known.
The life that had been Jax’s nightmare was now an adventure.
“Hi, I’m sorry I’m late,” Becca was saying as River let her in. She was wearing a white shirt and a black skirt that was somehow professional and righteously sexy. A sweet-looking black and white cardigan completed her uniform. Pink gloss made her lips shiny, and she’d let her hair down. It hung around her face in thick tendrils that made him want to sink his hands into it and force her to look up at him.
He hadn’t topped her, and he craved that in a way he never had before. He’d trained at The Garden because it had taken up the lonely hours. He’d enjoyed the D/s sex he’d had, but he hadn’t understood the need to be in control until tonight.
“You’re not late,” River said, accepting the bottle of wine with a gracious smile. “Jax’s boss isn’t even here yet. I barely put out the appetizers. You’ve met Owen, but I’m not sure if you know his friend, Robert.”
He watched as Becca’s shoulders went stiff and straight and she turned slowly. Her eyes were wide when she took him in. She had not been expecting him. And then he saw the moment she decided to brazen her way through. Her lips curled up in a smile and she reached out a hand to him.
“Hello, elevator friend. I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said and there was a hint of something in her eyes.
Something that told him this wasn’t a pleasant surprise.
But there was something deeper, something almost afraid. Maybe more than almost.
Fuck. He could play the game. He would enjoy the seduction game with her, but if she was scared, he couldn’t overcome that. He had no idea why she would be afraid, but he’d talked to enough women to know she might have her reasons.
He briefly took her hand and attempted to make his expression as gentle as possible. “It’s good to see you as well, Dr. Walsh.”
Her eyes flared briefly as though she hadn’t expected him to use her title. “You can call me Rebecca. Or Becca.”
He took a step back, not wanting to crowd her or make her feel like he was in her space. He had no idea what he’d done to scare her. She hadn’t seemed scared of him when they’d passed in the hall, but she’d obviously changed her mind, and he wasn’t going to push himself on any woman. Not even for a mission.
There was pursuing a woman who wanted to be chased, and then there was stalking a woman to make her feel small, to let her know she was nothing but prey. He wasn’t ever going to do the latter.
But standing in front of her made him ache. He nodded her way. “All right then, Rebecca. I’m going to refill my glass. It’s good to see you again.”
He turned and walked back toward the kitchen, well aware that Robert was staring at him like he was insane.
He could hear Robert telling her hello as well and then River was there, smoothing things over and telling Becca about the menu for the evening.
“Hey, have you decided to play this low and slow or something?” Robert whispered the question as he entered the kitchen.
There was a swinging door between the galley-like kitchen and the living room, but there was also a large open space over the sink. He was sure it had been designed so whoever was left with cooking duties could still be a part of the activities in the living room, but it was also useful for spying.
Jax’s head came up from where he was cutting limes. “Low and slow? Like a brisket?”
“Like a man who just totally blew off a woman,” Robert replied with a frown on his face. “I thought you were going after her. I’m not sure both of you playing hard to get is going to work.”
One of Jax’s big shoulders shrugged. “Robert should know.”
Robert’s eyes rolled. “This isn’t about me. This is about the op, and Dr. Walsh is the op.”
“I think we might have to go a different route.” He poured himself more whiskey. It might be time to go back to what worked for him. He’d never once scared away the whiskey. “She was afraid of me.”
That seemed to flummox his friends.
“You’re reading her wrong. I think she was surprised to see you.” Robert grabbed a glass of his own. “Jax didn’t tell her you would be here tonight. I told you sometimes women get skittish after sex. You have to go out there and be charming.”
“No, she was afraid. Something scared her. That wasn’t embarrassment.” She hadn’t been embarrassed at all when she’d walked away from him that night they’d been stuck in the lift. She certainly hadn’t been the morning after. That morning she’d been in control. This evening there was something tentative about her.
“Why would she be afraid?” Jax asked.
“It could be anything.” Robert stared out into the living room as though considering the problem. “Something her ex-husband did. There might be some trauma there. Ariel didn’t mention that there had been violence in the relationship, but she can’t tell everything from her files.”
“Becca filed an HR report against one of the other doctors at the hospital where she did her residency.” He’d spent the day going over and over her file, everything they knew about her. He’d even tried to read one of her papers, something on how plaque affected memory, but he had no idea what half the words had meant.
She was smart and dynamic, and she’d had a few bumps along the way. The HR claim, the divorce. Tucker had mentioned there was gossip about Becca and Paul Huisman at work. Some people said she was sleeping with him. Others said they hated each other because she’d taken his job.
A woman of her skill and at her level would always have enemies or people who were jealous. Had one of those people tried to hurt her? What would that have to do with him?