Outcast (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2) (9 page)

Jasper said under his breath, “Come with me.”

“Actually . . .” Shoulders squared and chin raised, she said, “I’d rather stay with Dane. At least he’s turning lemons into lemonade.”

“Oh—that’s rich, coming from the woman who gets one rough diagnosis, then closes up shop and settles in to die.”

“Did I hear something about pie?” Dane called.

“Screw you,” she said for only Jasper to hear. “You don’t know a thing about me or what I’ve been through, so save your judgement for someone who cares.”

Jasper gave her a long, hard stare, shook his head, then walked away.

She hugged herself. Why, without him, did she feel colder than if she’d still been outside in the snow? How was it that they were here together, right back where they’d started, but emotionally felt thousands of miles apart?

8

JASPER HAD NEVER been much of a ladies man.

He wasn’t the wine and roses type—more like the kind of guy who showed his affection through changing a girl’s oil or mowing her lawn. In this instance, he would die before letting harm come to Eden. In what seemed like another lifetime, he’d placed his trust in the wrong friend, and because of that mistake, his sister-in-law had died. If protecting Eden meant coming across like a jackass, then so be it.

Something about this Dane character rubbed him the wrong way.

All three of them searched for Eden’s father, but the station was deserted save for poor Doug. They’d found him dead in a lab. His neck had been broken.

Jasper carried him outside, where he covered his body in snow behind the station.

Eden and Dane said a few words about what a great guy he’d been.

All Jasper could think was that he was sorry for dragging Doug into this mess. In a roundabout way, he felt responsible for his death. The realization darkened his already sober mood.

Back inside, intent on repairing the down comms, Jasper marched halfway down the hall leading to the equipment room when he turned back to get Eden. He should never have left her alone.

Seconds later, he’d returned to the combined rec room and kitchen only to find she wasn’t there.

Dane whistled while forming ground beef patties.

“Where is she?” Jasper asked.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, relax.” Dane didn’t look up from his work. “Eden’s fine. She seemed exhausted, so I told her to take a shower and nap—not necessarily in that order.”

“Why aren’t you more concerned about Leo popping in?” Jasper hefted himself onto the nearest stainless steel counter. He snatched an apple from a fruit bowl and took a bite. After chewing and swallowing the less-than-ideal, mealy fruit, he noted, “It’s almost like you know we’re safe.”

“What I know is that I’m hungry, and so is Eden. Regardless of whether or not my former associate chooses now or later to stop by for a visit, we all need to eat—even you.”

Jasper set the apple on the counter. Was he judging this guy too harshly?

“How long have you known Eden?”

“Just under a year.”

“She and I first met on her fifth birthday. She was a beautiful girl with long dark hair and haunting green eyes.” He lit a burner on the gas stove, set a cast iron skillet atop it, then added three hamburger patties. “Even at that age, I always thought her too serious. While I suppose most girls her age might have wanted a ballerina or fairy-themed party, she wanted a science party. Her father asked me to perform a few scientific magic tricks for her and her pint-sized guests. Of course, I agreed. We did silly things—showing off supersaturation by making ice pillars. Crushing cans with air pressure. Creating a cloud in a bottle. I’d earlier made a Rubin’s tube that I set up on the lawn. After dark, the children and their parents were mesmerized by the fire dancing in time to Ace of Base.”

“Thanks for the slide show,
pops
, but how does any of that prove you’re not just as slimy as the nutball scum who’s been trying to kill my ass ever since I set foot on this godforsaken iceberg?”

“It doesn’t.” Dane hummed while flipping the burgers. “Eden told me you’re a former SEAL. I would imagine in that line of work, you were faced with all manner of unholy chaos on a daily basis. It must have been hard—determining the black and white of any given situation. Say you were given orders to clear a village of a suspected terrorist cell. But once you got there, you found those men were not only terrorists, but loving husbands and fathers. Sons of moms and dads who loved them every bit as much as any family would. On the one hand, those men were a danger to the very core of all Western society holds dear. On the other, they were the beating hearts at their own family core. Who were you to judge which family was more important?”

“Save the theological and ethical mind games. I get where you’re coming from, but what about sacrificing one for the good of others? There’s not much gray area to consider when it comes to taking out some bastard who has a hobby of strapping bombs to nursery school kids.”

“Agreed. My apologies.” He bowed his head. “I failed to make my point. All I’m getting at is that there are always two ways of looking at things. You and I are virtual strangers. As such, considering what you and Eden have been through, I don’t blame you for your distrust. But please understand I love her as much as you.”

Jasper lowered his gaze. He’d never said anything about loving her. But hell, maybe he did. Why else would he have been crazy enough to come all the way down here to save her?

His empty stomach launched a growling bitch-fest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, and the burgers smelled damned good. Did he risk them being poisoned?

He hopped down from his seat on the counter.

“Ah, there you are,” Dane glanced up from flipping the burgers to smile at Eden. “That didn’t take long.”

“No hot water.” While holding a towel to her wet hair, she winced. “I should’ve stayed dirty.”

“I’ll love you either way.” Dane winked before adding cheese to the patties.

“How can I help?” Eden asked.

Jasper barely held back a snarl when she hugged the guy from behind. In most cases, Jasper liked to think he was a great judge of character, but when it came to Dane, he was having a tough time taking a read. Honestly? The man had done nothing overt to indicate he played for the other team. In fact, his show of shooting that copter team should have been convincing.

Except for the fact that it wasn’t.

When the chopper pilot never heard from his team, why hadn’t he returned to check on them? Or, if needed, bring more men? For that matter, it would have been just as easy to follow their trail here. Why hadn’t they? What was keeping Leo away? Or should Jasper be asking
who
was keeping him away?

While Eden chummed it up with Dane, Jasper paced.

He reached a general notice bulletin board where a note written in red Sharpie caught his eye. It had been dated today.

Marabella Station—

Douglas Anderson failed to return to McMurdo by his estimated arrival time, though his vehicle is absent from your station. Since your comms are down, we’ve left a sat phone. Please contact immediately to confirm station status.

—Roger Howard

Roger left his number scrawled on the legal pad on the table.

There was no phone.

Jasper looked under the table, next to it, on all nearby chairs, but sure enough—no phone.

“What’d you do with the phone, Dane?” Jasper strode back to the kitchen.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Jasper wanted to charge him. He wanted to punch his stupid, smiley lights out. Out of respect for Eden, he didn’t. But it was hardly a secret that she was pissed by his continued distrust of Daddy Dane. “See this?” He waved the note in Dane’s now expressionless face. “Roger says he left a sat phone on the table. Have you seen a phone?”

“No. And I resent the fact that you’re blaming me for an act I had no part in. You’ve been with me since we all set foot in the station. When would I have even had time to take it?”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation.” Of course, Eden jumped to Dane’s defense. Maybe that was Dane’s game, to turn her against the one man she could actually trust. But was that entirely true? She’d asked him to respect her wishes in the most sacred manner of allowing her to make decisions regarding her own body, and he’d not only refused, but actively plotted all the ways he’d work to find her a cure the second they returned to civilization. There was no way he’d let her die.

“Like what?” Jasper waved his hands. “Did it up and decide to spend the day hot air ballooning?”

“You’re losing it.” Tears shining in her eyes, Eden shook her head. “I used to think of you as my rock, but now you’ve become a cold, cynical man. For the last time, Dane is one of my, and my father’s, dearest friends. Respect that relationship or walk to McMurdo.

Jasper balled his hands into fists.

Stepping between him and Dane, she reached out to skim both of their arms. “Nothing would make me happier than for the two of you to be friends.”

“Is that your missing phone?” Dane pointed to the last row of tables. “On the floor next to that sweatshirt?”

Jasper hadn’t been able to spot it from his initial point of view, but from his current angle, the phone was in plain sight.

“You owe Dane an apology,” Eden said.

The hell I do
. How had the phone gotten from the table to the floor? Santa and his elves hung out at the North Pole—not the south. One time too many, he’d taken a man at his word—a friend—and it had ended up bad. His sister-in-law, Mariah, hadn’t just been his brother’s wife, but Jasper’s confidant and friend. The fact that she’d died because of his asinine stupidity had driven the entire course of his adult life. After her funeral, he’d joined the Navy because his family wanted nothing to do with him. Ever since, everything he’d ever done had been with the sole hope of making them proud. Making them love him again. His fling with Eden was never supposed to have gone further. But it had. And now, in some mixed-up, impossible to understand way, she’d become a second Mariah. A woman he loved and respected and above all, needed to protect.

Because of his blind hatred for his old pal who’d long ago duped him, could he be distrusting Dane for no better reason than a ten-year-old grudge against a guy who’d long since been locked away for dealing?

“Jasper? The burgers are ready. Come eat.”

He jolted at the sudden warmth of Eden’s hand on his back.

“Where were you? You seemed lost in another world.”

“I was.”
But I’m here now
. The past is in the past—where it needs to stay, and if any of them were going to get out of this alive, he had to set his mind to answering at least a few of the far too many questions surrounding this supposed treasure.

“Figures.” She’d picked up the phone and tried calling Roger’s number. “No signal.” She set it on the legal pad. “We’ll try again after lunch.”

Lunch. What was he going to do? His every instinct screamed at him to pitch Dane’s meal straight into the nearest round file, but Eden would freak. On the flip side, what if she ate it, and then dropped dead?

“O-M-G.” She groaned after her first bite. “This is delicious. Thank you.”

While Jasper had wasted time contemplating whether or not Dane would try poisoning them both, the woman he was supposed to be protecting could already be in grave need of medical attention.

“After we eat,” Dane said, “I think we should look over your father’s office. Maybe we’ll find a clue to where he could be.” He carried two plates from the kitchen, setting one next to her, then taking the other for himself. “Eat, Jasper. We’ll need our energy for tearing this entire station apart. If you’d like, take my burger.” He offered his plate.

Classic psychology. Making him believe he hadn’t poisoned his own food, when in actuality, Dane planned all along for Jasper to eat his serving. Or could Dane be a step ahead of him and already suspect he’d ask to switch plates, so he hadn’t?

Geez
. Jasper clamped the heels of his hands to his forehead. He was starting to sound crazy even to himself. Odds were Dane was the kindly second father Eden believed him to be. If he weren’t, wouldn’t he be with Leo?