Bad Boy's Lust (Firemen in Love Book 1) (24 page)

Jayce would never raise a hand to me. Would he?

I left them there and ran after the police, hoping to talk to him before it was too late. But by the time I reached the outside steps, they had him in the back of a cruiser. It pulled away, lights flashing.

I couldn't believe they were arresting him. The guy I was going to marry, the father of my child, was going to
jail.

Home was sounding wonderful right now. I slipped into the car. Although the blessed quiet helped calm my frayed nerves, I cried the whole way back to Shady Acres.

Chapter 18 - Elle

The phone rang around eight that evening. The caller ID said “Waco Police Department.”

“Pink, it's me.”

I sighed, relieved to hear his voice and yet still annoyed for the trouble he'd gotten into once again.

“Where are you?”

He laughed. “Oh, I'm having a ball. I got my own luxury cell with a toilet and a bed – even comes with a nice scratchy blanket. This is way better than that crumbling prison in Mexico. Roaches there were the size of rats.”

“Jayce, come
on.
How can you joke about this? You got arrested for beating up your dad.”

He turned serious. “I had to. Did you hear what he said about you? I'm not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, Elle.”

My respect for him inched up a little more – even though starting fights wasn't really something you
should
respect. But just knowing that he'd stick up for me, well, that meant a lot.

“They really don't want us getting married.”

“No crap. He's pulling out all the stops now. That legitimacy thing? What the hell's up with that?”

“Do you think we could possibly pull it off? We'd have to convince seven people we were seriously a married couple. People around here know how you are, so that won't be as easy as it sounds.”

“I don't think we got a choice. And that's not all. Can't believe he would take me off his will if we go through with this.”

Oh, yeah. What kind of father would screw over his son so badly? No wonder Jayce turned out the way he did with an influence like that in his life.

“He said the inheritance was large. How large are we talking?”

“We haven't talked about it much,” he muttered. “But last I heard, when he was drawing up the will a couple years back, it was in the six figures.”

My God. Six figures!

“Jayce, that's a lot of money.”

“Sure is.”

I didn't ask him the question that was on both our minds. If he married me to keep Shady Acres, that cash was gone. Would he seriously be willing to do that? If I were in his shoes, I didn't know if I could.

“Hey, you. Time's up.”

“Yeah, I heard you. Listen, Elle. They set my bail at five hundred bucks. If I pay it, they'll let me go free tonight. And I'd really rather not spend the night in here.”

“I don't just have half a grand laying around to bail you out of jail.”

“But I do. Get into my apartment with the key under the mat, then open the safe next to my dresser. Code's 11-03-08-06. There's enough cash in there for you to get me out.”

I seriously didn't feel like busting him out, but I couldn't leave him in a cell. Right now, I needed him back here.

I had to talk to him. To just... be in his arms.

“Okay. But are you sure you trust me rooting around in your safe?”

“Of course. Just don't run away with all my money and go on a shopping spree.”

The guy in the background jangled some keys. “I said hang up and get your butt back in there.”

Soon as the call disconnected, I got dressed and raced down the hall to 501. There was the key, barely hidden under his welcome mat. It opened the door with no trouble.

I'd never been in Jayce's apartment alone before. In fact, I doubted anyone had. The guy sure did like his privacy – which worried me because, if we had to prove our marriage was real, then us living apart wasn't going to help our case.

I knew he was eager to go free, but I took my time looking around. His place seemed cleaner than usual: vacuumed carpet, no dirty dishes in the sink, no pile of laundry on the couch.

Good. There was no way I could cope with a man who refused to pick up his own underwear off the bathroom floor.

Thinking of his underwear made me think of what he had beneath that. I tried not to dwell on it too long and moved ahead to his bedroom.

The bed was made, and I easily remembered us in it. The way he seduced me, how good it felt... And that very moment I conceived the child growing in my womb.

“This is where it happened, little guy or girl.” I patted my tummy. “Come on. Let's find that safe and go rescue your poor daddy.”

The fetus was still tiny, I'd wager, with no ears to hear me yet. Still, I enjoyed talking to it. Made me feel better, like I had a part of Jayce with me all the time.

I found the safe by his dresser. It was made of thick, heavy fireproof steel, and I couldn't help but be curious what was inside it.

“You used your birthday as the combination, I see. Nobody would
ever
guess that.” I rolled my eyes as I dialed it in.

The door swung open, and I surveyed the contents. There was a yellow folder labeled “Important” that he'd stuffed with tax documents and other papers. Next to that, a couple of trinkets, the meaning and value of which I had no idea.

The gold necklace Debbie used to wear caught my eye. I gingerly picked it up and felt the thin chain. Tears came, but these were more happy than sad.

“I think you'd be proud of Jayce, aunt Debbie. He's doing better now. There might be hope for him yet.”

Could that be the reason why she wrote her will the way she did? By forcing him to marry, he would have to learn to love first – and learn how to become a decent man, too.

If it hadn't been for that will, the two of us would never have hooked up. Had to wonder if Debbie ever foresaw
that
happening.

I grabbed a fat envelope in the very back of the safe. When I pulled it out, money spilled all over the floor. A
lot
of money.

There was a stack of cash as thick as a college textbook, a mixture of twenties and fifties, but many hundred-dollar bills. I gathered it all up with shaking hands, counting in my head as I did so.

In this envelope alone, I totaled up a little over five thousand dollars. But this wasn't all. Three more such envelopes were nestled in the back, too.

“God, Jayce. Where did you get all of this?”

His dad wouldn't have given it to him. Even if he offered, I doubted Jayce would accept. He was too proud for that. Savings, maybe?

I pocketed the $500 he needed for bail and put the rest back. As I locked the safe, something caught my eye – a sliver of bright light shining from beneath his closet door.

It wasn't right to snoop through his things, but the curiosity was too much. What would a quick peek hurt?

I opened the door. Huh? What the hell were there
plants
doing in his bedroom closet?

His clothes hung on the bar to the left. On the right sat a couple of shelves with plants, all the same kind, resting atop them. A blinding fluorescent light fixture hung above. That didn't come with this unit; he'd installed it himself.

Baffled, I stepped closer and touched the leaves. Each plant bore long, wispy foliage that came to a pointed end. They had a very distinct odor. I'd smelled it before several times, when I went to visit Jayce and Heather in the summer.

Then it hit me what I was looking at. I didn't want to believe it, but the evidence stared me right in the face.

Jayce was growing marijuana in his closet!

I didn't know what to think. Anger, confusion, disappointment, all of those emotions flooded through me as I backed out of the room. The pregnancy hormones made it worse, and I burst into loud sobs. The next-door neighbor smacked the wall in protest. I didn't care.

This night had gone from bad to worse. Jayce
was
terrible news, just like mom said. I thought the endless parade of girls and the excess drinking was bad, but this? This was outright illegal!

I slammed the apartment door behind me, not even bothering to lock it. The only thing that mattered was getting him out of jail and asking him what in the hell he was thinking.

At the police station, I handed over the cash and signed some release form. While I waited for them to let Jayce go, I fumed and fretted and paced around the room.

What was he doing with all that pot? Wait – the money! He had enough cash in the safe to buy a new car, and who knew how much in the bank. What if he was a
drug dealer?
Oh, hell no.

The red light above the prisoner release door turned green. Jayce strutted out with a smile. Normally, I would have been happy to see it. Instead, I felt like throttling him.

“My hero. Let's get out of this place, Pink. I could use a good shower after this.”

He tried to take my hand, but I wrenched away. He frowned, confused.

“What's wrong? You're still mad at me for getting arrested?”

“We have to talk. Outside.”

I didn't say anything to him until we got in the car. Then I pulled out of the parking lot so fast, the tires squealed on the pavement.

“Christ, Elle. You didn't sound this mad over the phone. What gives?”

I gripped the steering wheel harder. “You want to explain to me what's going on in your bedroom closet?”

He paled, then hung his head. “Oh.”

“That's all you have to say? You're growing weed in your bedroom, Jayce. An illegal drug in the apartment we both own. What the hell are you thinking? What if the police found out?”

“They won't. They have no reason to come inside.”

“But what if they
did?
Getting caught with a joint in your pocket is one thing, but you're
growing
the plants yourself. They'd throw you in prison straight away, and your bail wouldn't be just $500 this time. Probably charge you as a dealer, too.” I glanced at him. “
Are
you dealing drugs? You need to tell me right now.”

“Uh, no, not exactly. Come to my place and I'll tell you everything.”

“I'm not sure I want to hear it.”

We reached Shady Acres and went up to his apartment. First thing he did was grab himself a beer. Old habits, I supposed, did die hard.

“Want one?”

I shook my head. Actually, I'd love nothing more than to get smashed and forget today happened. If it wasn't for the life forming inside me, I would have done just that.

“This is why you're always slacking off. Never around when we need you. You're off God knows where, getting high.”

“I haven't smoked in a few months now. Promise.”

As if I could believe him. “Then what are you doing with so many plants?”

“I've been growing a few plants every year since high school. My friends and I, we were always looking to score cheap weed. Figured it'd be cheapest to grow it ourselves. The others tried, but it turned out I had a green thumb for keeping the babies alive.”

He sat next to me with his beer. The smell of it made me want to puke. I wished I could just tell him why. Maybe if I yelled “I'm pregnant,” it'd slap some sense into him for once.

“I always figured there were worse hobbies I could have. More damaging ways I could spend my time. Don't you agree?”

“If you liked to garden, maybe you should have planted some tomatoes or something – not an illegal drug plant that could put you in prison for years!”

He draped his arm around me. I wished I could enjoy it, but relaxing was impossible around him right now.

“You act like I was cooking meth in a trailer park. Marijuana is different. It's totally natural.”

“Don't you
even
make that argument. Why haven't you answered my question? Why so many plants?”

He led me into the bedroom. For once, he brought me in here and wasn't trying to put the moves on me.

Was I a total idiot for wanting him even now?

“Some is – was – for personal use. My friends at the station liked to partake on occasion. They'd give me a little bit of money for my trouble.”

I shoved him. “So you
are
dealing drugs.”

“No! I only ever shared it with them, I swear. I didn't want anything to do with being a dealer. Shady people coming to the apartment all hours of the night? The possibility of getting robbed or stabbed? No thank you.”

“Bet you were happy to share some with your million and one girlfriends.”

“Absolutely not. I was afraid to.”

“Afraid?”

“They could be a cop, for instance. Or what if they told their boyfriend I was loaded, and he decided he wanted a piece of the pie? People get violent when drugs are involved.”