All Or Nothing (The Alpha Brotherhood #2)(37)
Author: Catherine Mann

Her cool fingers on his skin were a temptation, no question. She’d always been his weakness from the day he’d met her.

“I would rather wait for any discussion until we get the report in from Salvatore.”

“What changes if we hear from him?” She frowned, staring into his eyes as if reaching down into his soul. “You think if that man Zhutov has blown your cover, then you don’t have to make tough choices. You won’t have to do the work figuring out how to let me into your life if you keep the job.”

“Or maybe I’m not sure if I’ll be a man worthy of you without the job.” The admission hissed out between clenched teeth, something he’d known deep in his belly even if he hadn’t been willing to admit it until now.

Her eyes went wide. “How in the world could you think that?”

“I’m looking reality in the face, and it sucks. You saw it all on the surveillance camera. You saw those kids in the handcuffs.” The memory of it roared around inside him, echoing with flashes from his arrest, the weight of an ankle monitor, the sense of confinement that never went away no matter how freely he traveled the world. “They were stealing drugs to sell. And we could dig into why they needed the money, but bottom line is that they stole medication that’s hard as hell to replace out here and they injured a guard in the process.”

She gripped his arm harder, with both hands. “It had to be painful seeing the boys you’d played with betray you that way.”

The sympathy in her eyes flowed over him like acid on open wounds. “Damn it, Jayne, I was one of those kids. Why can’t you get that?”

“I do get it. But you changed, and there’s a chance they’ll change, too. Is that such a horrible thing? To believe in second chances?”

The roar inside him grew until it was all he could do to keep from shouting. She didn’t deserve his rage. She didn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m not the good guy you make me out to be. Yes, I took the job with Interpol to make amends, but I do the work because it gives me a high. Just like when I was in high school, like when I broke the law. I’ve only figured out how to channel it into something that keeps me out of jail.” He looked her dead in the eyes and willed her to hear him. “I’m not the family guy you want, and I never will be.”

“What if I say I’m willing to work with that? I think we can find a balance.”

He would have given anything to hear those words three years ago, to have that second chance with her. But he knew better now. “And I don’t. We tried, and we failed.”

“Are you saying this because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt from something related to your job?”

Holding back a sigh, he dodged her question. He’d had plenty of practice after all. “If that was the case, I would just say it.”

“Like hell. You would stage a fight to get me to walk. It’s cliché, just like when I woke up with nightmares, and we’re not cliché kinds of people. We lead our lives doing difficult jobs that rational people would shy away from. I love that about you, Conrad. I love you.”

Damn it, why was she pushing this tonight? Did she want to end things?

And ultimately, wouldn’t that be the best thing for her?

“Jayne, don’t make this harder on both of us. We’ve been separated for three years. It’s time to finalize the divorce.”

* * *

Too stunned to cry, Jayne closed the bedroom door and sagged back on the thick wood panel. At least she’d made it out of that room with her head high and her eyes dry.

How in the hell was she supposed to sleep in here tonight with the memories of a few hours ago still so fresh in her mind, the scent of their lovemaking still clinging to the sheets?

Damn him for doing this to her again. And damn her for being such an idiot.

She ran to her suitcase and dug through it, tossing things onto the floor until she found the little black shoulder bag she’d worn to the casino that first night. She dug inside and pulled out her wedding ring set, the five-carat yellow diamond and matching diamond-studded band.

Her fist clenched around the pair until the stones cut into her palm. She grounded herself in the pain. It was all she could do not to run outside and throw the damn things into the river.

She squeezed her eyes closed and thought back over their fight.

Conrad meant every word he’d said. She’d seen the resolution in his eyes, heard it in his voice. And while she still believed he’d made the choice out of misconceptions about himself, she also accepted she couldn’t change his mind. She couldn’t force him to let go of his past.

She’d waited for him for three years. She’d come here to try one last time to get through to him, only to have him tear her heart to shreds all over again. She didn’t regret trying. But she knew it would be a long time before she got over loving Conrad Hughes, if she ever did.

Now there was nothing left for her but to leave with her head high.

Putting the pieces of her life back together would be beyond difficult and, God, she needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to share a bucket of ice cream and put life into perspective. Her mother was gone. She didn’t have any sisters. Seeing Anthony again was out of the question, and her friends from work would never understand this.

The answer came to her, a place to go where Conrad couldn’t argue about her safety, a person who could offer the advice, support and the sympathetic shoulder she needed. She placed her wedding rings on the bedside table, letting go of them and of Conrad for the final time. She wasn’t chasing after him anymore.

She picked up her cell phone and called Hillary Donavan.

* * *

She was gone. He’d lost her for good this time.

Watching the lazy hippo roll around in the mud, Conrad sat on the dock with a bottle of Chivas, hoping to get rip-roaring drunk before the sun set. The night had been long, sitting on the couch and thinking about her in the next room. He’d prepared himself for the torment of watching over her until Salvatore cleared him to leave.

But she’d walked out first thing in the morning with her own plan in place, already cleared by Salvatore. A solid plan. As good as any he could come up with himself. Boothe would take her to the airport where Hillary would meet her.

Jayne was a smart and competent woman.

He tipped back his glass, not even tasting the fine whiskey, just welcoming the burn in his gut.

The rumble of an approaching car launched him to his feet. Then he recognized Boothe’s vehicle and dropped back down to sit on the dock. He must be returning from taking Jayne to the airport.