Defiance Page 3

  The next day, Weiss had left the base. Gone AWOL. Cleaned out his bank account. And disappeared.

  So…progress. Now, they just had to find Weiss.

  Earlier, one of the guards stationed on the house had called to report he’d scared off someone prowling around outside the fence.

  It seemed Zachary had told Jessica the truth about someone with a rifle in the neighborhood.

  Zachary sighed and walked into the kitchen.

  Blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, Jessica was already making supper, and the aroma of roast beef filled the air. Although a cook visited on Thursdays and left prepared meals to last them a few days, the rest of the time, Jessica preferred to keep their house to themselves. He didn’t disagree; he preferred privacy as well. These days, even more than usual.

  Between the threats, the guard at his office and on the grounds, and the damn security systems, Zachary felt fenced in. And frustrated.

  “Earth to Z.” Jessica waved her hand in front of his face. “You disappeared for a minute there.”

  “I did. Sorry, pet.” Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her, breathing in the light floral scent. The fragrance of life. Of beauty.

  When he pulled back, she looked up, her forehead creased in thought. She was adorably short and curvy, and far too intelligent for his peace of mind. At least right now. “You don’t look…happy.”

  “I have some rough cases.” Simply the truth. He didn’t lie, not to her, not to others, yet, he was, dammit. Maybe not in the strictest sense, but he was certainly evading what she wanted to know. “Did Beth reach you? She had a financial question.”

  “Yes, I got back to her.”

  Years ago, when Jessica stumbled into his BDSM club, she’d been unfamiliar with the lifestyle. Incredibly innocent, she was also beautifully submissive. Over time, her submission to him had deepened, even as she’d become more assertive with others. In fact, she’d gathered the other Shadowlands Masters’ submissives and formed them into a group. Her girl gang, she called it. Anyone in the gang got her canny advice with financial matters.

  “Daddeeee.” The high squeal came from the living room followed by the thudding of tiny feet. Sophia had heard his voice. He gave Jessica a squeeze and moved to intercept their daughter.

  God, she was beautiful. Blonde hair like her mother. His gray eyes. Smart and happy and filled with the wonder of life.

  And on her way toward the terrible twos. As a psychologist, he was delighted by her growing independence. As a parent? Knowing everything she was rushing toward was terrifying.

  “Sophia.” He swung her up in his arms, pushing away the thought of the splintered car seat.

  Putting a tiny hand on his cheek, she rubbed her palm over his jaw, giggling at the scratch of stubble.

  “How was your day, sweetheart?”

  She gave him a serious look. “Goggy.”

  “Doggy?” Ah, Jessica had mentioned this morning that they planned to visit Rainie who managed a veterinary clinic. The woman was always surrounded by pets needing homes.

  “Goggy,” Sophia said again. “Me.”

  No doggy. Totally the last thing he needed, another vulnerable being. “We have a kitty instead.” He glanced around, looking for their battered, ginger-striped cat that was normally underfoot during meal preparations. “Where is Galahad?”

  Sophia’s lower lip poked out, and she scowled at the cat door.

  A laugh came from Jessica. “Remember the toy Anne gave Sophia last week? When Sophia played it, Galahad fled the building.”

  “Smart cat.” No animal with functioning ears would enjoy that toy. Each button spewed out a different and loud animal sound—meows, barks, moos, baas. The good Mistress Anne was a sadist, but he’d never appreciated the true cruelty in her nature.

  Then again, her baby was just getting to a fine age for noisy toys. It would be a shame to miss the opportunity.

  “Sophia.” Zachary pointed to a soft ball on the floor. “How about we play some ball?” A nice quiet game.

  “Baa.” Sophia squirmed in his arms to get down so she could show off her latest prowess.

  “Daddeeee.” Once on the floor, she grabbed his hand and dragged him in the right direction.

  There were days she reminded him of Mako. A future Army sergeant. Not that he cared as long as she grew up healthy and happy. Able to stand on her own two feet. Able to give and receive love.

  Those were his goals for this precious being.

  He glanced back at the kitchen and saw Jessica in the doorway, hand on her belly. Love lit her eyes. For her daughter.

  For him.

  He would do everything in his power to keep his family safe.

  Chapter Four

  As they ate supper, Jessica was grateful for Sophia’s babble.

  At eighteen months, the toddler had decided opinions of the meal offerings. Lacking a whole lot of consonants, her words weren’t clear, but her expressions said it all. The tiny chunks of meat loaf proved adequate for Her Highness. Mashed potatoes were amazing—but her displeasure showed when Jessica insisted she use a spoon rather than her fingers. The mastery of utensils wasn’t going quickly; however, the sippy cup had only been tipped over once.

  Z had actually laughed when she showed her approval of peaches with a “Nom, nom, nom.”

  Jessica smiled. Her friend Sally had contributed that meaningful addition to Sophia’s vocabulary.

  But that had been the only time Z laughed.

  Heart aching, Jessica gazed at her husband, her Sir, her Master, her love. The silver streaks at his temples had widened. The chiseled lines of his face showed the bones more clearly. He looked tired. Wasn’t sleeping.

  There was something wrong, more than what he was telling her.

  Once the meal was finished, they cleaned up the kitchen together. She did love how Z always did his share in the kitchen.

  She was his submissive, not his slave, and over the years, they’d discussed and re-discussed how and where the lines lay in their power exchange. When it came to sex, he was totally the boss…although it was amazing how often a male could view normal activities as a prelude to sexy times. Sheesh.

  But since they both worked, there was no Dom/sub stuff in the kitchen, and the all-powerful owner of the Shadowlands was okay with that. Maybe because he was a feminist to his core.

  She really did love him.

  “Thank you for the meal, kitten.” Z started the dishwasher, squeezed her shoulder, and walked out to the dining room where he’d left his cell phone. Although they always silenced their phones for meals, he couldn’t stay out of touch too long. Not with the kind of patients he had.

  After picking up his phone, he checked that Sophia was busy in the living room before turning and winking at Jessica.

  Jessica grinned. Their little tyrant had decided phones were toys that should be shared, and she’d throw fits if she didn’t get to “talk” on the phone. Unfortunately, for her, she was learning a screaming fit meant she’d be tucked in her room for a quick timeout.

  Having spent years running a BDSM club, Master Z wasn’t unsettled by a screaming female.

  Jessica huffed a laugh. Accountants after the first tax season acquired the same steady nerves. Poor Sophia hadn’t found throwing a tantrum to be an effective strategy.

  Smiling, Jessica poured apple juice into a sippy cup. Evenings were her favorite part of the day. Time to play roll-the-ball and to see if they could entice Z into joining the game.

  On the phone, Z was at the dining room table, making notes on a pad of paper. “Let me check on suitable venues, and you can add the time and location to the funeral announcements. I’m sorry. He was a remarkable man.”

  As he disconnected the call, the lines beside his mouth and eyes deepened.

  Jessica set the juice down and hurried to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  He laid his hand over hers. “Remember I told you an old friend called to say he had cancer?”


  “Yes, I remember. That was only a couple of days ago. You said he was doing all right.”

  “His lawyer said Mako was driving on a foggy road and went through a railing over a cliff straight into the ocean. He didn’t survive.” Sorrow had darkened his gray eyes.

  “I’m so sorry.” She moved closer. An army friend. Although Z had been out of the military for ages, he still had a huge number of military buddies. “Did you serve with him?”

  “No. Mako was a Green Beret legend during the Vietnam War and out before I met him.”

  “Green Beret like you? Special Forces?”

  “Mmmhmm. I met him at a military funeral in Los Angeles, maybe twenty-two years ago. He was struggling with PTSD and living in an off-the-grid cabin in Alaska. We talked after the funeral, and I tried to help. Gave him some advice.”

  Jessica did the calculations in her head. If the sergeant enlisted around eighteen, put in twenty years, and spent ten in retirement, then… “When you met, he’d have been closing in on fifty and you were, maybe, young twenties?”

  “Yes. I’m surprised he didn’t flatten me.”

  She could only smile. Even in his twenties, Master Z would have cared for anyone he met. Would have tried to sort them out. “How did he react?”

  “He thanked me. Then told me to get my ass out of combat zones and into psychology. He figured a man should dive into the foxhole where he’d be the most use.” Z changed his voice to a low rasp. “ ‘Fuck knows, the army needs shrinks who aren’t REMFs.’ ”

  “REMFs?”

  “Vietnam slang—rear-echelon mother-fuckers.”

  She snorted. “I take it he wanted his shri…uh, counselors to have seen combat. To understand what it was all about.”

  “After I got out, I took his advice.” Z’s lips curved slightly. “When a first sergeant gives an order, you obey.”

  Heart aching at the grief in his voice, Jessica sat down on his lap and put her arms around him. “He lived in Alaska? You must have seen him since, though, if he called you.”

  “We stayed in touch, yes. After the funeral, on his way out of LA, he took on four orphaned boys to raise. That hadn’t been my advice…exactly, but I felt responsible, so I flew up to Alaska now and then to check on how things were going.”

  That was so like Z. “How did he do with them?”

  “They’re all good men. Strong, brave, independent. He did well.”

  And now the man was dead. Sorrow touched her heart.

  A notepad lay on the table. Z had written: Saturday. October 7th. Ft. Richardson National Cemetery, Anchorage, Alaska.

  Three days from today. “Did you want to attend the funeral?”

  Zachary barely heard her. Mako’s death felt like the felling of an ancient redwood. The passing of a force of nature.

  Only, Zachary had a feeling the old sergeant had gone out exactly the way he’d planned. Dammit, Mako.

  After a second, he remembered Jessica had asked a question. Attend the funeral? He’d promised Mako he’d handle the wake—and check on his sons. He couldn’t break that promise, although leaving his family now when someone was targeting him was impossible.

  And yet…

  If Zachary left, the chances were excellent that Weiss would follow him. Which meant the police would have a good chance of catching him, especially as he tried to board a plane. If Weiss made it to Alaska, then… Well, if needed, Zachary would serve as the bait in a trap. Simon could send some of his highly trained operatives to set it up.

  And Mako’s sons would be there, four of the most lethal men Zachary had ever met.

  Yes, drawing Weiss to Alaska would keep Jessica and Sophia across the continent and out of the field of fire. But, just in case, Zachary would tuck them away somewhere safe and keep them guarded.

  “Sorry, pet.” He rubbed his cheek against Jessica’s. “Yes, I need to go. When Mako called, he asked me to arrange an after-funeral send-off so his boys might remember him as he was. Although they’re in their thirties now. Hardly children.”

  “That’s lovely. And no matter how old they are, they’ll be hurting. Of course you should go. We can go with you.”

  He shook his head. “No. Actually, I want you and Sophia to stay with your mother while I’m gone. This place is too isolated for you to be here alone.”

  “What? Seriously?” She sat up straight and scowled at him.

  “Seriously. Either you stay with your mother, or I’ll hire guards to stay inside and outside the house and watch over you while I’m gone.” Actually, she’d have a guard, no matter what she did.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, honestly, your Alaska friend isn’t the only paranoid one. How about if I leave Sophia with Mom and fly to Anchorage with you.”

  He cupped her cheek, his heart melting. A few months earlier, he’d encouraged Sophia’s grandparents to spend more time with her so he and Jessica could have adult time together. Could eventually enjoy childless weekends. But last month, when he’d suggested three days in Miami, Jessica hadn’t been willing to leave the baby for that long.

  Now she was willing—because she knew he was hurting.

  “Although normally, I’d love to have you with me, this isn’t the time. You’re pregnant, kitten, and I’m going to be too busy to watch over you.” Disliking the need, he hardened his voice. “You absolutely cannot come with me to Alaska.”

  Although Jessica had been known to…sidestep…his wishes, his sweet little submissive wasn’t one to disobey outright. Thank God.

  Chapter Five

  On Friday morning, standing in her mother’s doorway, Jessica held her daughter’s hand as Galen and Vance walked away from the house.

  Sophia bounced up and down, waving an exuberant goodbye. “B-b-bye.”

  Grinning, the men turned and waved back before getting into Vance’s car. Delivery of wife, child, and cat completed, they drove away.

  I’d better get moving as well. As queasiness rolled through her, she pulled in a slow breath through her nose. With a hand on her still-flat belly, she scolded the imp. Not now. As soon as she was on the road, she’d nibble on the crackers in her purse. No time for morning sickness.

  Part one of her plan was complete. Part two started now.

  This morning at dawn, Z had bid her a loving goodbye before heading off to the airport. An hour later, his two friends had shown up to taxi her, Sophia, and Galahad here to Mom’s. Because Z was still all worried about that armed guy in their neighborhood.

  If there was one.

  Surely she’d have heard something on the news, right?

  Or not.

  She shook her head. Maybe the police preferred the populace stay ignorant rather than panicking, buying weapons for defense, and accidentally shooting their neighbor. Or worse, their neighbor’s dog or cat.

  “Those were nice men, weren’t they?” her mother asked. “Zachary certainly went out of his way to make sure you got here safely.”

  Frustration rose inside Jessica. “He goes out of his way to make sure I’m safe everywhere.”

  As if sharing her irritation with Master Protectiveness, Galahad let out a long yowl from the cat carrier.

  “How will he react when you show up in Alaska?”

  There was a good chance she might not sit down for a week.

  “I’m sure he’ll get over it.” Her eyes blurred with sudden tears. “He’s so sad, Mom. And worried about something, and I don’t know what’s going on.”

  When her mom put her arms around her, Jessica absorbed the comfort.

  “Knowing you, honey, you’ll find out.”

  Jessica’s mouth set. “I will. And whatever it is, I’ll help him fix it.”

  Whether he wants help or not.

  Being pregnant didn’t make her an invalid, so why was he treating her that way? What was wrong with him?

  “Of course, you will.”

  With a shuddering sigh, Jessica forced a smile and hugged Sophia. “Be good for your Grammie and Aunt Eun
ice. I know you’ll all have a wonderful time.”

  “We absolutely will.” Mom picked up Aunt Eunice’s car keys and handed them over. “Drive carefully, sweetheart. And if your husband is upset, I’m going to tell him I knew nothing. No-thing.”

  Jessica was laughing as she went out the back door, crossed the yard, out the back gate, and into Aunt Eunice’s back yard. Because Z might well have tucked a guard in the rental house across the street from Mom’s house.

  As requested, her aunt’s car was parked in front of the house.

  As Jessica drove out of town, she realized she was leaving her baby behind…for days.

  She cried all the way to the airport.

  * * * * *

  Friday night, Zachary opened his suitcase to hang his clothes up in the hotel room closet. His eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep, his muscles knotted from airplanes and taxis—and worry.

  It’d been a long, long day, starting before dawn.

  Jessica wasn’t happy with him, and even less happy about staying at her mother’s house, although the two were close.

  Nevertheless, she’d be safe there. The tiny town was a fair distance from Tampa. Galen and Vance had planned to pick her and Sophia—and the cat—up in a vehicle with darkened windows. They would have taken a circuitous route to ensure no one tailed them. At home, the programmed house controls would make it appear as if Jessica was still there.

  The guard across the street from Joyce’s house would keep an eye on things. Just in case.

  Yes, Jessica and Sophia would be safe.

  And he missed them already.

  Now, all he had to do was oversee Mako’s send-off and catch Weiss. Hanging his shirts in the closet, he huffed a laugh. And stay alive. That should probably come first.

  As noises came from the adjoining hotel room, Zachary finished unpacking, tapped on the connecting door, and undid the lock.

  A minute later, the door opened from the other side.

  The man in the doorway was a couple of inches over six feet. Broad shoulders, buzz-cut hair, grim gray-green eyes, and a clean-shaven, strong jaw. Drill sergeant looks—Mako would have approved. “Dr. Grayson.”