Inside Out: Behind Closed Doors Read online

  He starts walking, and by the time he’s out the door, Jason is at the window, hands pressed to the glass, chin at his chest.

  The door shuts, and he shoves away from the window and faces us. “Daniel, call Jack and tell him Skye and I are leaving.”

  “I thought this was over,” I say.

  “Someone else is involved, and I don’t want to be here when Joe finds them and somehow have this turn on us.”

  My hand goes to my neck. “Shouldn’t we go to the police or something?”

  “We’ll end up six feet under if we do that.” Jason eyes Daniel. “Tell Jack to find whoever it is before the mob does. That’s the best we can do to help this end less bloodily.”

  “I’m on it,” Daniel says.

  “You need to get out of town, too,” Jason says. “Meet us in Europe.”

  “I need to stay here and clean this up alongside Jack,” Daniel counters. “You two go, but call me before you get in the air.” He turns and leaves.

  Jason pulls me to him. “We’re okay. This is basically over.”

  “Not if someone close to you was a part of this.”

  “The only person who’s going to be close to me the next six weeks is you.” He kisses me. “Let’s get packed and out of here.”

  • • •

  TWO HOURS LATER we’re on a plane waiting to take off, with one of Jack’s men on board and Jack on Skype.

  “Here’s what we know,” Jack says. “Stephanie has an odd bank transfer we’ve linked to China. This might not have been anyone close to you.”

  “The Chinese?” Jason asks. “Why?”

  “There are all kinds of clandestine operations floating around with Chinese interest,” Jack says. “Some small and stupid. Some smart and dangerous. It’s likely an experiment gone bad, and even the mob won’t catch them. But there’s a reason we hadn’t told you yet. We don’t know. We’re working on it. In the meantime, my man is with you and you’re getting the hell out of Dodge.”

  “How would Stephanie connect with these people?” Jason asks, reading my mind.

  “She was a groupie in the gaming industry,” Jack says. “A prime target. You didn’t do this to her. She did this to herself.”

  “What about my parents?”

  “They have no idea that we’re watching them, and I have zero fear that they’re in danger,” he assures us. “That said, Jesse, the agent we have staying there undercover, under the guise of writing that book he’s been wanting to write, did say he’s been forced to run five extra miles a day because he can’t say no to your mother’s cooking.”

  Jason’s lips curve. “I feel his pain, believe me.”

  Jack sobers quickly. “We got this, Jason. You two enjoy Europe, but let me just say one thing. If you get on this flight and start blaming yourself, don’t. If this hadn’t been you, it would have been another player.”

  He ends the call and Jason shuts his MacBook, setting it aside, his elbows resting on his knees, hands on his face. He’s fighting for that control he so values, and I have no doubt he craves a release. I could tell him he’s not to blame for any of this, the way Jack did. I could tell him words to make him feel better, but none of that is going to erase the many ways he’ll question himself over the death of two women. So I choose to lay my hand on his back and silently let him know that I’ll ride out the storm with him.

  • • •

  SIX WEEKS PASS QUICKLY, and Jason and I are in a hired car on our way to his Vegas apartment, to fulfill one of three contracted events he has left with the TV show. While all threats to us have been cleared, Jason has decided to maintain Jack’s services for the next six months, which really isn’t surprising. He might be past that first week we were in Europe, when he struggled with self-blame, but the deaths of two women are hard to set aside.

  The car stops and the doorman opens our door, but I don’t get out. “It’s kind of surreal, isn’t it?” I ask, glancing at Jason.

  “It is,” he says solemnly, and when I start to exit the car, he pulls me to him and kisses me. “Next stop, San Francisco and home. Finally, I get you in my real bed.”

  “Yes,” I say, warming to the idea of moving in with him officially, despite the fact that we’ve lived together for weeks now. “Home.”

  He kisses me again and helps me out of the car, and once we’re inside the hotel he’s bombarded with greetings, all of which he welcomes graciously. Finally, we make our way to the elevator, and we laugh, because I’ve gotten over this fear, but only after a few intense panic attacks in Europe’s many tiny spaces. Not to mention a whole lot of talking about my father, and every closet I hid in while he abused my mother.

  The elevator doors open and we’re about to step inside when we hear, “Jason! Skye!”

  We turn to greet Abel, who’s grinning ear to ear, and not supposed to join us until dinner in a couple of hours. He hugs me the minute he’s in range, and glances at Jason. “I can’t believe she kept you.”

  Jason laughs. “Me either, man. She even agreed to move in with me.” He motions Abel forward. “Come on up.”

  “Nah, man. I’m too early for dinner. I was in the hotel negotiating an event for a client, and happened to see you.”

  “Seriously,” Jason says. “Come on up.”

  It doesn’t take much arm twisting before Abel is in our apartment with us, and we’re all sitting around talking, the guys drinking beer while I sip wine. Abel’s phone keeps ringing as he deals with a problem client, and he steps into the office off the living room. Davie calls Jason, trying to talk about his contract, and wants to come up.

  Jason tells him, “I’ll come down,” and kisses me. “I’ll be right back.”

  I head to the kitchen to pour some more wine but opt for coffee instead, brewing a cup and returning to the living room to discover Abel still in the office with the door shut. I’ve just sat down when I hear the front door open.

  “Jason!”

  At the sound of Daniel’s voice, I stand. He appears almost instantly, and for the first time since I’ve met him, his tie is loose and his hair disheveled. “How’d you get up here?”

  “I had a key made while you were gone,” he says. “Where’s Jason?”

  “He went downstairs. What’s wrong?”

  He holds up a folder. “This is what’s wrong. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “What is it?”

  “Jack found out who was working with Stephanie, and it’s going to shred Jason.”

  “Who?”

  “Me.”

  I look up to find Abel in the doorway, a gun in his hand. “What are you doing, Abel?” I ask, gripping my cup tighter.

  “Put down the gun, Abel,” Daniel orders.

  The front door opens and I shout, “Stay back, Jason!”

  In a blink, Abel has moved closer to me and is now pointing the gun at my head. I don’t know how or why, but I’m calm, the adrenaline pumping through my body controlled. “Don’t do this,” I say softly. “Abel, we’re friends. Whatever went wrong—”

  “What the hell are you doing, Abel?” Jason demands, and he’s walking this way quickly.

  “I’ll kill her!” Abel shouts. “I will kill her, Jason.”

  Daniel catches Jason’s arm. “He’s the other blackmailer,” he warns. “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  “Why, Abel?” Jason demands, his fists balled by his side. “If you needed money—”

  “I did need money. I gambled and I lost. I lost big. Stephanie came to me with some plan to throw off your game, and I bet against you. But you kept fucking winning, and my debt got bigger and bigger. I keep doing things to fix it. I keep doing things I don’t want to do, to make this go away.”

  Jason jerks his arm from Daniel’s grip, holding up his hands. “I’ll help you. I’ll pay off your debt.”

  “It’s too much. It’s too late,” Abel sobs, and I feel the depth of his torment clear to my soul. “I got desperate,” he confesses, his voice quaking. “I got rea
lly fucking desperate.”

  Suddenly he steps away from me, holding the gun at his own head, like my father did once in a drunken stupor, and everything goes into slow motion. I flash back to that childhood moment, my mother screaming “no!” and throwing a beer bottle at my father’s head—and I throw my coffee mug at Abel with all my force.

  It hits him in the chest, hot coffee flying everywhere. He groans and I gasp from the fiery impact of the coffee. Jason is there with me in an instant, pulling me to him, and I get a glimpse of Daniel holding the gun.

  “Are you okay?” Jason asks, cupping my face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Abel moans, and we turn to find him on the floor, Daniel’s foot on his chest while he talks to 911.

  “It worked,” I whisper. Just like it did for my mother.

  Our doorbell rings and knocking follows. Jason and I rush to the hallway and let security inside. The next hour is a whirlwind. The police come and Abel is taken to a hospital for help. There are questions. There is paperwork. There’s the cancellation of the tournament. And finally Jason and I alone, standing in the living room where it all went down.

  “What will happen to him?”

  “He has no family but me,” he says. “I’ll pay off his debts and get him help, but he’s out of our lives. I can’t have a man who held a gun to your head in our lives.” He cups my face. “Let’s go home, back to San Francisco.”

  “I would like that very much.”

  • • •

  HOURS LATER WE WALK into the front door of Jason’s apartment, our apartment, and he’s barely turned on the lights when he drops our bags and presses me against the door, fingers laced in my hair. “I thought I was going to lose you tonight. You wonder why I never got serious with anyone? Because my father went MIA during wartime, and I saw how his capture destroyed my mother before he was rescued. I didn’t want to love that much, to hurt that much. But now, I do. I love you that much.”

  My heart squeezes and my fingers curl at his cheek. “I love you, too. Before you, I didn’t really know what that even meant.”

  “Then marry me, Skye. And I’ll help make your dream of law school real. I’ll cheer you on and study with you and—”

  I press my lips to his. “Yes. It’s always yes with you, Jason.”

  EPILOGUE

  A MONTH AFTER JASON proposes I finally meet his parents, and I know a little more about him the moment I see his father. He’s in a wheelchair. This powerful, confident man, a war hero, doesn’t have control of his body. But he is still Jason’s hero, as well he should be.

  It’s our third night with his parents, and we sit on the porch of their bed and breakfast, chatting and laughing. I love them both. His mother is elegant, with long gray hair and a feisty attitude. His father is worldly, thoughtful. The contrast is engaging and fun. We’re sipping coffee, chatting away about everything under the sun, when we all fall into a rare silence.

  His mother breaks it by saying, “You’re marrying Skye with all that money of yours. When are you getting her a ring?”

  I choke on my coffee and Jason laughs. “We custom ordered it, Mom. It’ll be here next week.”

  “I expect to see it when it arrives,” she says.

  “Of course, Mother,” Jason says.

  I pull out my phone and show her a picture of the opal surrounded by diamonds. “Oh, stunning,” she says, and shows it to Jason’s dad before handing me back my phone. “I think you should get married right here.”

  Jason and I look at each other and I nod, which earns us her yelp of excitement. “When?”

  Jason laughs. “Never satisfied, are you?”

  “I waited a long time for this,” she says.

  “November, Mother,” Jason says. “After I’ve retired.”

  “That works,” she agrees before turning to me. “We’ll start planning. So, Skye. How many kids do you want?”

  We all laugh, and Jason holds me a little closer. “Let us get married first, Mother.”

  “Okay.” She smiles and snuggles next to his father, and I do the same with Jason. And for the first time in my life, I really am home, with him.

  Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to the Careless Whispers series by New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones. ­Keep reading for a sneak peek of

  Surrender

  Coming January 2017 from Pocket Star Books!

  THE SOUND OF the entry door beginning to rise again has me turning and watching it lift. Kayden ducks under it as I had, obviously impatient to find out what I’ve remembered, his leather jacket and his shoulder holster missing, his navy T-shirt hugging his broad, hard chest. It is then that I am reminded of what made me request that we talk alone. Knowing it’s not something he wants to hear but has to, I need to ensure he listens. And I need to stay focused on my memories, and what they’re telling me—not what he makes me think and feel, or what the past tells him.

  He strides toward me, his energy predatory in this moment. Actually, there is always something rather predatory about him, which is far too sexy to ensure conversation, especially after today’s shift in events. I could be CIA. I could be his enemy, no matter what he says otherwise, and really, truly, right now I just want to feel him close, to get lost with him in the way he makes me get lost. But there are things bigger than us at stake, things that are far too complicated and dangerous to indulge in such desires, even if they feel almost as if they are needs.

  Determined to stay focused, I round the desk, placing the massive wooden surface between us. By the time I’ve shoved back the desk chair, claimed the spot in front of it, and pressed my hands to the surface again, Kayden is doing the same opposite me.

  His gaze meets mine, his probing, intelligent eyes those of a hawk who sees the past clawing at me, while I fight to contain and control it. “Why are you running from me?” he asks.

  “I don’t run,” I say, and I can almost hear my father say, “Running makes you a victim. Never be a victim.”

  “Then why are you over there and I’m over here, when we’d both much rather you be here or me there?”

  “I’m giving us space to have the conversation I need to have with The Hawk—not with the man who loves me.”

  The predatory gleam in those pale, too blue eyes of his softens, right along with his voice. “He’s the same person. I will always be The Hawk and the man who loves you.”

  Don’t miss a sultry tale of possession and ecstasy, wild fantasies and dangerous secrets in the bestselling Careless Whispers series by New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones!

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  Denial

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  Demand

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  Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to the Careless Whispers series, coming Fall 2016 from Pocket Star Books!

  Surrender

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  About the Author

  AN AWARD-WINNING New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Lisa Renee Jones has published more than forty novels spanning many romance genres: contemporary, romantic suspense, dark paranormal, and erotic fiction. In each book the hero is dark, dangerous, and sexy. You can find Lisa on Twitter @LisaReneeJones, Facebook.com/AuthorLisaReneeJones, and her blog LisaReneeJones.com for regular updates.

  FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/LisaRenee-Jones

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  Also by Lisa Renee Jones

  The Inside Out Series

  If I Were You

  Being Me

  Revealing Us

  His Secrets*

  Rebecca’s Lost Journals

  The Master Undone*

  My Hunger*

  No In Between

  My Control*

  I Belong to You

  All of Me*

  The Secret Life of Amy Bensen

  Escaping Rea
lity

  Infinite Possibilities

  Forsaken

  Unbroken*

  The Careless Whispers Series

  Denial

  Demand

  Surrender*

  *Ebook only

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Julie Patra Publishing, Inc.

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  First Pocket Star Books ebook edition October 2016

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  Interior design by Davina Mock-Maniscalco

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  ISBN 978-1-5011-5874-2