Page 68 of Reckless

And that was the third person on his list. The man who’d lied to a vulnerable young woman, leaving her alone and pregnant. Even though Eliza McAlister had raised an amazing young woman, that didn’t negate the damage a lying, piece-of-crap adulterer had done to them both.

Though the bag was getting crowded with the faces of people he wanted to punish, he added one more to the list. And that was Xavier himself.

It didn’t matter that he’d kept the truth from Jazz to keep from hurting her. No one, especially someone as independent as Jazz, appreciated being lied to for their own good. It went against every thing he believed about her. She was strong, resilient, and well-adjusted enough to handle anything anyone dished out to her. She’d just survived almost two weeks of torture and abuse. Hell yes, she could handle the truth.

He just hadn’t wanted to give it to her and see the light die in her eyes.

A slight draft of air alerted him that she’d come into the room. He knew why she was there. She was going to get stronger and be ready for the last day of her “imprisonment.”

At that thought, Xavier delivered one last agonizingly hard punch to the bag in front of him. Jazz had accused him of keeping her prisoner. After what she’d already gone through, how the hell could he do that?

He turned, ready to apologize. He’d get down on his knees if he had to. He’d help her pack and give her the SUV keys. If she really wanted to go, he wouldn’t stop her. The instant he saw what she was trying to do, his mind instantly shut that down. Hell, she couldn’t even lift a twenty-five-pound weight. This wasn’t about making sure she didn’t get hurt. This was about making sure she didn’t get killed, or get anyone else killed. OZ operatives didn’t go out into the field unless they were one hundred percent. She was barely forty, if that.

As if aware that he was staring at her, she dropped the weight on the floor and said, “I called my doctor to see what I need to do. He sent me a list of rehab exercises.”

He took a step toward her. “Good. I can help you?—”

“No.” Turning to face him, she lifted her chin and glared at him. “I agree I’m not strong enough yet, and I won’t fight you to leave. But that doesn’t mean I forgive you. For weeks, you’ve known something deeply personal about me, and you hid it.”

He was not going to let her get away with that.

“And you’ve never kept anything from me? Like not telling me that the shooter was Brody?”

She had the grace to flush, and even as frustrated and angry as he was, he felt his heart turn over and a pebble of guilt gnaw at his conscience. He knew why she hadn’t told him, and he’d forgiven her. To use that against her felt wrong. But not nearly as wrong as letting her go out while she was weak and unprepared to fight.

“Fine. We’ve both lied to each other,” she said. “It’s fairly obvious we don’t trust each other like we should. Maybe it’s best if we end this.”

The anger he’d managed to slightly quash furled back up at an astounding rate.

“End what exactly?”

“Us. Maybe…”

Before she could finish that sentence, he was on her. He would never raise a hand to her in anger, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make sure she knew how infuriated he was.

“Listen to me, Jazz McAlister, and listen good. What we have is more than not telling each other information. It’s more than an argument, a disagreement, or a damned OZ mission. You don’t get to back away when things get rough and uncomfortable. You fight. Don’t start being a coward now.”

As their eyes locked in a battle of emotions and anger, Xavier held his breath to see which road she would take. He was not about to give up on her. He loved her, and he knew, even if she hadn’t said it, that she loved him, too. What they had was too special to let angry words destroy it.

Disappointing him, she backed away and said, “I need to work out.” Turning her back to him, she picked up a smaller dumbbell and began lifting.

He knew he could continue their argument. And he might even persuade her to make a concession, but it wouldn’t be permanent. Jazz had to work this out herself.

He just hoped that when she did, she remembered how great these past few days had been and what they could have.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Two weeks later

Bozeman, Montana

Shaking off another nightmare featuring OZ and Brody, Jazz sat up in her bed. She was finally home. Against Xavier’s wishes, against doctor’s recommendations, against everyone who had an opinion about her health and well-being. Also against the voice inside her head that asked her time and again just what she thought she was going to accomplish. She didn’t know. What she did know was she could no longer hide away and pretend things would somehow work out. She had to do something.

When Xavier had dropped her off yesterday, he had silently, without asking permission or telling her what he was doing, spent hours adding more locks to her door, as well as enhancing her security system. She hadn’t protested or complained. She knew he’d done it because he cared. The odds that whoever was after her knew where she lived were slim. However, being cautious would hurt nothing.

Right before he’d walked out the door, he had taken her by her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I know you’re hurting and confused. And I know that independent spirit of yours is telling you to get out there and find out as much as you can. But know this—I will never, no matter what happens, abandon you again. I will watch your back, not just because you’re my partner or my friend. I will watch your back because you are a part of me, Jazz McAlister. I will not give up on us. No matter what.”

Then, with a hard kiss to her lips, he’d walked out the door. She hadn’t seen him since.