Fire and Ice (Guardians) (38 page)

The burn of the liquid did nothing to assuage the paralyzing pain in his chest.

His vision blurred now, as he realized his tears were coming faster, his racking sobs sounding foreign to him as his chest started to heave against an excruciating torment. He poured more whiskey and drank it back almost choking. But it would not ease the anguish.

"Come back," he heard himself whisper brokenly.

"Maia, please, come back to me."

***

The MDI offices were in an uproar—or rather Jack's executive assistants and his secretary. He had been MIA for almost two days. He had not called in, had not been responding to calls, text messages or emails. Derek, was beginning to worry. The first day after he and Maia officially broke up, Jack appeared normal—too normal. Derek was too pissed at both of them to talk to him.
 

Then yesterday, Jack did not show up for work. Derek assumed that the reality had hit him and that he didn't feel like facing anyone, or maybe even that he had gotten back with Maia. It was still unlike him not to call in. And then today, it was the same thing. No Jack, no calls, no emails.

Laurie Stone had begged Derek to go check on her boss. She had witnessed, first-hand, Jack's erratic behavior in the past few weeks, and would prefer to have Derek handle their CEO. Some contracts needed to be reviewed, and there was an upcoming meeting with the DoD that needed preparation.

Luckily, he had a spare keycard to Jack's apartment. As he waved it on the elevator's scanner, he punched the floor for his penthouse, he prayed that his friend was there and not floating in the Potomac. Derek snorted when that last thought crossed his mind. Jack wouldn't commit suicide. If he was indeed floating in the Potomac it would be more likely that Maia had put him there in a fit of rage. Oh Christ, what the hell was he thinking? They were his friends. Whatever: friends shouldn't put him through this.

When the elevator door swooshed open, the stench of whiskey hit him. The apartment was a mess. Drawers were open, chairs overturned, shattered glass on the floor and an unconscious Jack, lying butt naked—fortunately face down—on the couch. Jack moved slightly as Derek approached, so he knew his friend was just sleeping.

"Christ!" Derek muttered as he waded over clothes and other items to get into the bedroom and rooted through Jack's drawers to pull out some sweatpants. He went back to the couch, bent down, and started tapping his friend lightly on the cheek.

"Get up, you dumb shit," Derek muttered irritably.

Jack opened one eye and mumbled, "Go away."

"Not on your life," Derek snapped, hauling Jack up to a sitting position and tossing the clothes at him. "Put this on!"

"Lower your voice," Jack hissed but did what Derek told him.

"Of all the idiotic and irresponsible things to do, this takes the cake," Derek said angrily. "What the hell is wrong with you? What are you? Eighteen?"

"She left me," Jack mumbled.

"That's not what I heard; she said you tossed her out on her ass."

Jack's eyes widened. "You talked to her? What did she say?"

"Fuck if I tell you. You said you had your shit sorted out and then I hear you pull this stunt."

Jack grabbed Derek's collar. "What did she say?"

"Why should you care? Well, she said it was good riddance and she'll rot in hell before she lets you close to her again." Derek was embellishing of course but smiled inwardly in satisfaction when Jack winced painfully. He deserved that.

"Did you tell her I was angry?" Jack asked. At Derek's silence, his brows knitted together and he said furiously, "You didn't even defend me?"

Derek sighed. What a fucking mess.

"What do you want, Jack?"
 

"I want her back," his friend replied simply as if he hadn't just thrown his girlfriend out of his apartment.

"Oh, you want her back?" Derek mocked. "You think it's going to be that simple? This is Maia we're talking about, not some debutante bimbo you can string along with your dick. And you know that if you do get her back—and that's a big IF—you can't pull this shit again."

"I know that!" Jack snapped and winced as his apparent hangover was still affecting him.

"Then be prepared to grovel, my friend," Derek said with some relish. "Or to shovel. Because you'll either be getting her back or digging your own grave."

Jack grimaced at his friend's words.

Jack sat down on his bed and grabbed his phone. After a shower, he went out for a big steak dinner with Derek. He hadn't eaten in two days unless, one can call candy bars food. They talked mostly about office stuff and when they parted ways that evening he had promised Derek that he wouldn't touch the liquor cabinet and would show up for work tomorrow.

Time to call Maia. He was prepared to grovel. In a moment of anger he had hurt the person he loved the most and that was unforgivable. But hopefully, she'd hear him out. But he was going to demand that she meet him halfway. If they were going back into a committed relationship she should prepare him for when she needed to take off, not just disappear like she had.
 

Taking a deep breath, he punched her number and waited for her voice. It went to voicemail. Shit. Either she didn't want to talk to him or she really was not available.

"Maia, babe, it's Jack. I've been a monumental ass. I was angry. I was angry at you for making me worry, for making me feel impotent to protect you from anything that would cause you harm. I'm in love with you, babe. I can't believe I hurt you like that. I know words are not enough, but please let me show you how sorry I am. Call me."

Jack got up and paced around the room. He proceeded to clean up the things he had thrown around, but after half an hour, pulled out his phone and called her again.

"Maia, I promise I won't pull this crap again. Please call me. I love you so much, babe."

He ended the call and glared at his phone willing her to call him back. Maybe she had changed her number. Maybe the voicemail didn't go through.

Jack groaned. He was exhibiting pathological, neurotic behavior.

He lay on his bed and stared at his nightstand's clock watching the minutes go by. It was then he had a moment of clarity. He was not as morose as he had been and his chest had felt lighter than in the past few weeks. And he knew then that he had accepted Maia wholly for whatever she was—well they still have to talk about a few ground rules. But he was not going to lie to her any more. He would tell her exactly how he felt about the risks she took. Derek told him that she said she was done with him, and that blew, but he was going to win her back at all cost. Any other outcome was unacceptable. She loved him too: she couldn't just turn it off like that. If he had to kidnap her again and keep her until she accepted that she was his, he'd do it. Jack smiled. There it was: clarity.

***

It had been a week. Jack was getting annoyed. He was willing to be patient, but this was ridiculous. How was he supposed to show Maia how sorry he was if she didn't call him back? He ran the gamut of all stalker behavior. He left her over twenty voice messages and just as many text messages. He had Derek call her, Laurie call her, his mom—yes he had his mom call her—but nada. No answer. He had driven to her Georgetown home three times and waited for her. But she did not show up. And then he worried that she had hooked-up with someone new or worse gone back to Lee Isaac—who made no secret that he still wanted her. That would kill him or make him commit murder.

"Sorry we missed Derek Lockwood today," Colonel Dalton's voice snapped Jack out of his ruminations. They were wrapping up some contract negotiations.

"Yes, he said he had a case of the flu," Jack replied. Derek had been acting strange lately. If Jack didn't know any better, he'd say his friend was avoiding him. And now he had filed for one week emergency leave. Was he thinking of leaving the company? Surely this mess with Maia had not prompted his friend to do business elsewhere.

"Well, I'm off to another meeting," Dalton said in a resigned voice.

"It's one of those days, huh?" Jack replied, making small talk.

"Actually, this meeting with the State Department should be interesting," Dalton said as he walked Jack to the elevators of the Pentagon. "One of our contractors ran into trouble in Russia and had some of their people taken hostage."

"Those are sticky diplomatic situations," Jack replied sympathetically.

The elevator doors slid open and, to Jack's shock, Viktor Baran stepped out together with Taylor Bess, the Assistant Secretary of State. Suddenly, a heart-wrenching dread gripped Jack's entire body.

"Mr. Baran, welcome. So sorry to hear about your people," Dalton said.

Viktor's eyes flickered over Jack in surprise. Jack grasped Viktor Baran's arm and asked hoarsely, "Is it Maia?"

The older man sneered, "What do you care?" He shook free from Jack's grip and spun away. The others looked at them with interest before they turned away to head into their meeting, leaving Jack reeling.

Jack burst into Derek's condominium, his face a mask of barely controlled fury as he stabbed a finger at his friend.

"You knew! You fucking knew Maia was taken and you never told me!" Jack accused angrily.
 

His friend's face was taut and drawn as if he had been carrying a burden for days.
 

"Yes, I fucking knew," Derek replied wearily. "I felt like crap this past few days seeing how determined you were to win her back, at the same time knowing that she and a couple of Guardians had been taken by Gavlik's men."

"This happened three days ago, didn't it? When you started avoiding me?" Jack rasped as he observed the black duffle bags that were packed. His friend was leaving for a mission.

Derek nodded. "How did you find out?"

"I ran into Viktor at the Pentagon with the Assistant Secretary of State. Prior to that, Dalton mentioned a hostage situation in Russia."

"What are the odds of that?" Derek mused.

"What happened?" Jack asked, finally calming down.

"I'm not sure. Viktor hasn't exactly been forthcoming with information," Derek admitted. "I expect him to brief me in the upcoming meeting. Maia did tell me a little about her mission before she left."

"I think she confided in you more than she ever did me," Jack said bitterly.

 
"Don't pull that pathetic shit on me, Jack," Derek said tersely. "Are you really ready to hear about how a sniper nearly took her out in the last mission?"

"What?" Jack whispered in horror.

"You cannot handle the
not knowing
and you broke up with her. Can you blame her for keeping things from you? Now that you know what shit storms she goes through, can you honestly say you'll be there for her, be her anchor through all this craziness? Can you handle that, Jack? That at any time, a sniper could take her out? Because that's her
reality
," Derek finished off almost in a shout.

"Damn you, Derek!" Jack snapped.

"Do you still want her back? To be with her? Because there's no guarantee that if she gets out of this alive, it's not going to happen again."

"I want her back. But things are going to change. I'm managing her and making sure she doesn't get into shit like this again," Jack stated resolutely.

"You're managing her," Derek let the words roll on his tongue as if Jack had lost his mind.

"I fucking am. Viktor cannot keep her safe so I'm taking over. She doesn't like it? Tough. I'm through letting her have her own way. I'm reining her in whether she likes it or not," Jack growled.

"This I've got to see," Derek muttered to no one in particular.

"So what's the plan on getting her back?"

"Jack, you're not going. One of us needs to run the company," Derek said. "This is a high-risk mission. Gavlik has an army guarding that compound where he's holding Maia and the other Guardians."

"You stay."

"The hell I will. You have too much at stake here, you are too close to Maia to think rationally!" Derek argued angrily.

"I bet you Viktor is going," Jack stated grimly. "The stakes are high, Derek. If I lose Maia, I lose everything. There will be no company. There is no going on without her. Do you understand that?"

"Man, since when have you become so maudlin?" Derek muttered in resignation.

"Since I fell in love with her."

CHAPTER TWENTY

The room didn't look all that bad. There was a bed with clean sheets, a side table with a plastic pitcher of water, and a plastic tumbler. A sheepskin rug was on the tiled floor, a minimalist bathroom off to one side of the bed. No not bad at all, except for the fact that one of her ankles was in a shackle.

Maia looked at the bed apprehensively and saw more shackles
 
attached to the headboard and the foot of the bed. This was a kink room.

They had been ambushed on their way to the Volynksy stronghold of Samara. They had no idea how Gavlik's men knew they were coming. Fortunately, none of the Guardians were killed. Manning had been injured, but she was assured that he was receiving medical treatment. Maia called a ceasefire when she realized they were outnumbered and that it would be suicide to fight back. Better to live to fight another day.

The door opened and Mikhail Gavlik walked in. He had silver hair and was a couple of inches taller than Maia. He was in his mid-fifties and had a slight paunch in his stomach. He was dressed casually in corduroy and a wool jacket, but Maia caught a glimpse of a sidearm.

"Ah, my lovely houseguest. I trust your accommodations are to your liking?" he said in a slightly-accented, cultured voice. His dark eyes coldly appraised Maia's body which lent credence to the rumors that she had heard that he was gay. There was no lust in those obsidian eyes, just a calculating malevolence.

"I've seen better," Maia replied sweetly.

"You can learn to curb your insolence," Gavlik warned scathingly. "You have a beautiful face, it would be a shame to ruin it. Now, I have been told that the DEA has something that is mine. I believe your dear friend can procure it for me."