Street Game (GhostWalkers #8)(43)
Author: Christine Feehan

He shrugged, in no way shaken by her anger. “Maybe not, hon, but we’re a family and Mack is the head. You and Rhianna are the heart. You’ve never seen Mack’s tough side. He’s gentle around you . . .”

She gave a snort of derision.

“He is, Jaimie. He’s different. He jokes and laughs and is a completely different man than he is out in the field. Do you think someone like me would follow him if he wasn’t? I’m lethal. You know that. Most of us are. Mack has to be strong to lead us all. He has to be reliable. That doesn’t mean he can’t make a few mistakes. If we’re going to get through this, we have to be all together on it. And we have to trust one another.”

Even as he said it he very casually, right in front of her, flicked at a switch on the control panel. Her breath caught in her throat. She brushed her hand over her face, realized she was trembling, and put her hands behind her back. “You have the intercom on, don’t you?”

“Of course. We’re in this together. I’m not holding back information that may save your life. You’re just going to have to accept that we’re here and we’re going to protect you.”

She bit down hard on her lower lip and shook her head. “I need to be alone for a little while. I’m not used to being around anyone anymore.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the first floor.” She looked at him with a mixture of despair and sadness. “I’m not stupid, Javier, and I don’t have a death wish. I won’t leave.”

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry. Keeping you safe is too important.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

She turned away from him. She didn’t fit anywhere anymore. Maybe she never had. She’d been so much younger than the others all through school. They were intensely physical and she spent most of her time inside her brain. She’d been devastated when she’d broken up with Mack, worse than devastated. She’d broken apart inside. He hadn’t trusted her. He hadn’t believed in her. And he hadn’t wanted to spend his life with her.

Mack had been her entire world. She’d spent the first year numb—existing—

making it through not each day but each hour. She hadn’t realized how much she depended on him and how often she’d turned to him for everything in her life. He’d been her other half. She wasn’t complete without him. And to know he didn’t trust her had been even worse than his rejection of their life together.

Mack had always been the acknowledged leader, but there hadn’t been a single member of their makeshift family who hadn’t known she had brains. She’d been shocked when he wouldn’t give her suspicions any credence. What was she, then? A warm body he could sate himself with? A woman who fed him and kept his house, but should keep her opinions to herself?

“Jaimie,” Javier said softly, trying to reason with her.

There was nothing to say, nothing he could say. She went down the stairs to the darkened first floor. She’d had such plans when she first found the building; now they seemed hollow. She had Mack and the others back in her life, but Mack still saw her as a child to protect instead of a partner he could respect. How was she going to be able to face them all? How was she going to stay in the same room with Mack?

She stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her h*ps feeling lost and alone. The sound of the water lapping at the pier was louder on the first floor. She’d done very little down here, other than to secure the windows and entrances against intruders. This would have been a perfect home for Kane and his chosen wife. Jaimie and Mack in her fantasy world would have lived on the third floor. The second floor would have a few spare bedrooms for the boys when they dropped by and a work area for the business.

She sank down onto the floor and dropped her head into her hands. Of course she’d been thinking they’d all work together. She hadn’t even realized that had been in the back of her head. She’d start a company, make it a success; Mack would see the error of his ways and he’d come back to her. What an idiot she’d been. All the time she’d been sure she’d been so independent, but all along, she’d been weaving a fantasy.

Jaimie sighed. She’d grown up in a mostly male world. They stuck together, thinking alike for the most part. She should have known Javier would switch the intercom on and try to get information out of her. He didn’t view his actions as disloyal any more than Kane viewed his actions as betrayal. Everything with her family seemed to be done in the name of protection. She wished Rhianna were there.

Rhianna was very different, much more of a tomboy, edg ier, but she at least understood Jaimie’s point of view.

She pressed her fingertips to her eyes and sat in silence, wishing she was alone again.

CHAPTER 9

Mack stood at the window and stared down into the choppy, white foam-tipped waves as the water lapped at the pier below. Jaimie had left him, all right, but she’d put herself in harm’s way because she felt she had to protect them all. He swallowed the lump blocking his throat. That was exactly what Jaimie would do—go after anyone she thought was harming her family. He should have known. Kane had known, but Kane hadn’t come to him. Was he really so arrogant and stubborn that he wouldn’t listen to the people he cared about most?

He had been so hurt when she left him. He’d been stunned—shocked. Totally caught off guard. And with him, hurt always manifested itself in anger. He’d come home and she was gone. She’d left him with nothing. He hadn’t considered that he would ever be without her. That he would go to bed and not be able to sleep. That he would hate his empty house. That he would listen for the sound of her laughter. He hadn’t realized how often he turned to her to discuss every topic, how much he relied on her knowledge. Jaimie had been as much a part of him as his breathing. And then she was gone and he hadn’t understood why.

Mack pushed a hand through his hair, a little surprised to realize it was unsteady.

Stupid pride hadn’t allowed him to run after her. That was all it had been. Pride. Ego.

Jaimie was supposed to worship him, and he hadn’t wanted to believe she could make it on her own without him. He was certain she would come back—only she hadn’t.

She’d gone her own way and, worse, she hadn’t contacted him to let her know where she was. That was painful too, to have to search and go through channels, so everyone had known he’d been frantic, had known he needed to keep a hand on her. That had been humiliating in itself. Sergeant Major had called him in twice and asked him if he could still do his job.