Rumor (A Renegades Novella) (2 page)

“Gone. Long gone.” Josh opened his eyes and stared out the rain-blurred windshield toward the ocean. Hearing from Beck automatically made him think of Grace. In many ways, losing her had left a bigger hole in his life than losing his career. “Where are you?”

“Same place you left us, man. Going out on a sneak-and-peek in about twenty.” Which meant the team had been deployed back to Syria. “Gonna get the chance to nail the guy who took out your shoulder.”

“No shit.” The pain he’d temporarily forgotten about throbbed back to life. “Give him an extra bullet for me, would you?”

“My pleasure, brother. Hey, could you do me a favor while I’m tracking him down?”

“Anything, anytime.”

“Could you get a hold of Grace for me?” he asked. “She’s not answering my calls.”

Grace.

The image of Beck’s ex-wife filled Josh’s mind as he’d last seen her, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, over a year ago now. Her strawberry-honeyed hair had been short and sleek. Her cheeks pink. Blue eyes sparkling with excitement and affection when she’d taken his hand in hers with a shy smile and an
“I’ve been thinking…”

He pushed the hurt back. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. We were talking pretty regularly up until about three, four months ago, but she seemed distant, you know? Maybe a little evasive. Then she stopped answering my calls, and she’s not returning my messages, texts, or e-mails.”

“Hold on,” Josh cut in. “Beck, she doesn’t have to call or text or e-mail you back—you’ve been divorced
three
years
.” And, yes, dammit, Josh was counting…not that it made any difference. A hundred years could have passed, and Grace would still be off-limits. “She’s probably seeing someone. And if that’s true, you’re putting her in a really awkward position. Nothing like having your ex call in the middle of the night to cause problems.”

“That’s not like Grace, but I’d let it go if…” Beck heaved a sigh, and his voice grew serious. “See, it’s like this—I’m worried about her. I heard a rumor, and I just need someone I trust to check in on her.”

“A rumor? Seriously? Dude, I’m about to leave for Christmas in Philadelphia.”

“Can you stop in San Diego on your way? You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important.” His voice lowered as if he feared being overheard. “See, I met a guy from team four on an op out of—” He paused abruptly. “Uh, anyway, we were talking about fishing for marlin in Mexico. I pulled up Facebook and showed him pictures of our trip, that really awesome first anniversary trip Grace and I took—”

Awesome?
“The one where you made her go deep-sea fishing with you?” Josh said more than asked.

“Yeah, and—”

“And she puked over the side for eight hours. Dehydrated herself so bad, she landed in a Mexican hospital. That
awesome
anniversary trip?”

“Dude,” Beck said in a perfect Dumb and Dumber impression. “Focus.”

The man was one of the sharpest SEALs Josh had ever known. A man Josh would always trust at his back. A true brother. But he was also an epically dense husband. Always had been.

“Right,” Josh said with an eye roll. “Sorry. Go ahead. Your romantic trip to Mexico…”

“So this guy from four points right at Grace in a picture and says, ‘You let your girl strip?’ I’m, like, what the fuck, right?”

Denial hit Josh first. Grace Ashby was not the stripping type. She was the sweet girl-next-door type, complete with a smattering of freckles, a smile like sunshine, and the manners of a Southern belle, even though she was a southern California girl, born and bred.

“Come on, Beck,” Josh said. “Use your common sense.”

“I have been. For two months.” Beck’s voice came out flat, the matter-of-fact tone he used only when he was serious. “And now I’m worried.”

Beck—the warrior—was worried.

Fuuuuuuck.

“This was a SEAL from team four who fingered her with no doubt, dude,” Beck said, “not some average Joe.”

Josh’s denial melted into a blend of shock and confusion. Yes, Grace was a dancer. Her mother, Carolyn, loved to brag and tell stories at the SEAL family get-togethers whenever the team was stateside. And Carolyn had told the story of Grace starting ballet at three years old, continuing with every type of dance imaginable throughout her life. She’d told stories of Grace smoking the gymnastics team and leading the cheerleading squad all through high school. And Josh knew from his own friendship with Grace that she’d gone on to teach and dance through several different Southern California theatres.

But the transition from dancing to stripping was a huge leap.

He took a moment to force that image up in his mind. But all he could see was that sweet-as-sugar smile and all the sparkling joy in her blue eyes. He couldn’t remember ever hearing an inappropriate word come out of her mouth. She was conservative. Politically correct. A pleaser. A nurturer. Being raised by a single mother had given her a fierce independent streak, but Josh believed he knew Grace well enough to know that stripping was way outside her comfort zone.

“The guy was probably drunk off his ass,” Josh offered for lack of a better explanation.

“Probably, which is why this will be a snap for you, bro. All I need to know is that you set your eyes on her. If you could just go down there, pop in at the town house, talk to her,
see
her, get the real story, I’ll know she’s okay. I trust you, man. If you say she’s safe, I’ll know she’s safe. Then I’ll be square.”

Square.

Every SEAL had to be emotionally, mentally, and physically square before heading out on a mission. Distraction led to mistakes. Mistakes led to death.

Beck might be square after Josh put eyes on Grace, but Josh would be fucking skewed.

Then again, Josh wasn’t going out on a mission.

He sighed. “What club?”

“Thank you so much, man. I knew I could count on you. The guy said he saw her at Allure. It’s the same place that used to be Teasers.”

The name of the dive bar made Josh wince. They’d both spent years in San Diego, and while Josh didn’t frequent the strip clubs, many other navy personnel did, and he’d heard every story.

“It’s not the sleazy joint it was a few years ago,” Beck continued. “It’s been taken over by a new owner and gone high-class. But I googled the place and found out there was a murder in the parking lot just a week ago.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Josh dropped his head back against the seat again, mentally reworking his schedule. If he wasn’t going home for Christmas, he could take the opportunity to clean up his town house—one in the same development as Grace and Beck’s—now that the renters had moved out. He needed to get that thing up for sale. But he also needed this holiday with his family.

“Thanks, man.” Relief rang clear in Beck’s voice, even eight thousand miles away. “I owe you.”

“No.” A flash of memory tightened his throat—Josh lying on a pile of rubble drenched with his own blood in Aleppo, the deadliest city in Syria. Over eighteen months later, and he could still remember the feel of Beck’s body weight hitting him as his friend provided cover against enemy fire after the IED had exploded. He released a long exhale. “You’ll never owe me.”

Josh tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of Nickelback’s “Feelin’ Way To Damn Good,” wishing he could agree. But he was sick. And worried. And anxious
.

Swish-swish.

The wipers cleared a path across his rain-spattered windshield, allowing the pink neon advertising Allure, a gentlemen’s club, to flash against the black sky, mocking him. He’d never believed he’d get this far. On the drive here, he’d convinced himself that this was all a misunderstanding. That this would turn out to be a case of mistaken identity. That Grace was still doing nothing racier than coaching high school cheer teams and was perfectly fine.

But when he’d reached her town house, he’d discovered Grace didn’t live there anymore. And when he’d swung by her forwarding address, he’d found himself in a neighborhood where young men loitered on the corners in small groups.

Swish-swish.

The realization that he was only yards away from Grace inside that club turned him inside out. There were ways he could get out of the duty while accomplishing the end goal, but the truth was, he craved the sight of her again.

He scanned the parking lot, searching for the high-end Jeep SUV Beck had given Grace their last Christmas together. The fact that it wasn’t anywhere in the lot meant one of two things—she either wasn’t here or she’d sold the car just like she’d sold the town house.

With stress building, Josh turned off the engine and pushed open the car door. The wipers stopped midswish, and the music cut out. He stood, locked the doors, and slipped the keys into the pocket of his blazer. Traffic raced past on the freeway with a soft whoosh, and the club’s music thumped through the evening mist. The chill December air swept in, turning his nervous sweat to ice, and Josh shivered as he started toward the club’s front door.

The parking lot was filled with high-end sedans, sports cars, and SUVs. Christmas lights lined the club’s eaves. He paused at the front doors, painted with sexy female caricatures in skimpy elf costumes, and replayed his cover story while dragging cash from his wallet. He’d only been to strip clubs three times in his life—all three for bachelor parties—but he’d only needed to go once to understand how they operated. He folded the bills and pushed them into his front pocket.

As he gripped the cool metal door handle, his muscles coiled tight, and his mind focused on the mission. But he sure as hell wished he were breaching a dozen terrorists with AK-47s in a Taliban stronghold instead of the lone, pretty, little Grace Ashby at a strip club.

He stepped into a foyer thumping with the sexual beat of My Darkest Days’ “Nature of the Beast.” Two walls were painted black, two covered in smoke-colored mirrors. A man who could have passed for three guys stuffed into one suit turned toward Josh. He looked Hawaiian or Samoan with a round face, dark skin, black eyes, and a buzz cut. And he was
huge
. At least three inches taller than Josh’s six foot one and tipping the scale at over three fifty.

“Welcome.” His voice was deep and flat and serious. “There’s no cover charge, but we have a two drink minimum. We ask that you be as generous as possible to the staff, seeing as it’s Christmastime and all.”

“How ’bout I start with you?” Josh drew cash from his pocket, offering the man a fifty. “I understand a friend of mine works here. Her name is Grace.”

The man’s dark eyes flicked to the bill, then back to Josh’s face, but his body never moved and his hands remained at his sides. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t give out personal information on the girls.”

The girls.

Josh’s stomach twisted.
The sweat gathering on his neck slid down the indention of his spine. He swallowed the ball in his throat and pressed the money into the bouncer’s massive hand. “I’m a friend, and I need to tell her something about her family.”

The man’s fingers curled around the money. “I just saw her out on the floor. But she goes by Nicole here, so don’t call her Grace. And don’t interfere with her work,” he warned, his voice growing hard, “or I’ll
hurt
you.”

Josh acknowledged the bouncer’s threat with a single nod, then took a deep breath, and strolled into the main club. He should feel relieved—he’d found her. But working the floor meant she was soliciting lap dances from spectators. He held on tight to denial while apprehension wound deep in his gut along with a hundred unanswered questions.

He immediately swept the club for layout, exits, and head count. A large, curved stage took up the most real estate, the glass base sleek and dotted with three stripper poles. Beneath the glass, lights faded on and off, making the floor glow in sensuous blues and violets, but the women dancing on the stage needed no enhancements. A blonde swayed on the far left leg of the stage, her major assets: enormous tits. A redhead writhed against the gold pole center stage, generous hips pumping. And a tall, leggy Asian woman rocked the stage on all fours to the right. Each wore nothing but heels or boots and a feathered or sparkling G-string.

Despite his distaste for these clubs, Josh’s blood heated and his cock tingled with a surge of lust, reminding him it had been way too long since he’d gotten laid. Like an idiot, he’d been holding out for Rachel. Since she’d jetted to the east coast with that head case, Ryker, Josh had been working too much to get into dating. And the whole one-night-stand thing worked better for him as a SEAL, when he’d only been in town for a few days before heading off on another mission. Now when he took a woman to bed, there was nowhere to hide the next day. Or the next week. Or the next month. And he hadn’t met anyone he wanted to promise he’d call in the future.

“
Nature of the Beast” transitioned into something slower that Josh didn’t recognize, a song with a thick, sensual beat and nasty rap lyrics about pulling hair, a man of steel, and candy rain. The powerful beat throbbed beneath Josh’s feet and straight up his legs. On stage, three more women emerged from behind crimson draperies, while those who’d been dancing, pranced out of sight. The whole switcheroo had been both entertaining and smooth, and the new girls, wearing a variety of outfits covering all their assets at this point, moved with slow sashays and gyrating hips.