Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3) (24 page)

“Beck it is. My newest friend.”

Disgusted, unable to come up with a good retort that didn’t make her sound like a paranoid lunatic in front of Meghan, Beck excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once in the stall, she retrieved her phone with shaking fingers. She pressed the first three numbers to call Zed, then stopped.
What am I going to say? He’s probably at work. How’s he going to deal with it? Bad idea. Better to wait until I get home.
She finished her business, washed her hands and exited the bathroom, only to crash into Lawson when she rounded the corner. “Shit! Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Not a good idea when you’re on recon. Stay aware at all times.”

She frowned, puzzled. “Good news. I’m not on recon.”

“I am.” Again his persona had switched into the marine. He turned, trapping her against the wall, and placed one hand on either side of her head, checking right and left first to make sure no one was in the vicinity. “You never gave me your answer.”

She ducked under his massive, tree-trunk like arms. “What answer is that?”

He grabbed her arm. “Don’t play coy. I asked you out.”

Unlike Zed, his hand clenched on her biceps like a metal claw. “Oh. I thought you merely wanted help finding things to do. The library has excellent job resources. Or won’t the military try and place you? They’ve been doing better with that since the Vietnam War debauchery. Now let go of my arm.”

“Not until you answer the question.”

“Easy. It’s no.”

“Wrong answer, bitch. Are you fucking my brother?”

“None of your damn business. Now let go of my arm.”

The radiologist opened the door to the X ray reading room. “Everything okay out here?”

Lawson morphed into confused marine, releasing her arm and bringing his hand to his forehead. “I was heading to the bathroom and I got dizzy. Thankfully, Beck caught me before I went down.”

“Are you okay now?”

“Perfect. Well, a little shaky but nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine.” He took a step and winced. “Man, I’ll be glad when this pain stops.”

Beck glowered.
He wasn’t limping when he lunged for me. Zed’s right. He’s being hunted by a psycho marine.

“Here, let me help you,” the radiologist offered, taking a step out of the office.

“Thank you, sir, but it’s important to do things on my own.” Lawson’s mouth curved into an earnest smile.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

The radiologist disappeared behind his door.

“Come on, honey, what do you say?” Lawson the seducer slipped easily and effortlessly into place.

Beck hated the way he said “honey.” It carried a similar tone and inflection to the way Zed said it. “I say, let’s get back to the treatment room. You’re here for physical therapy.”

“Has my brother been telling lies about me again? He’s prone to that. Always has been. Makes up a lot of stories. Make sure you check them out. Did he tell you I steal girls out from underneath his nose?”

“Let’s head back.”

“Did he tell you what he stole from
me?
”

Beck hesitated.

“He didn’t, did he? Did he tell you how we used to share girls? I’d take a turn, he’d take a turn, everyone happy and satisfied.”

A seed of doubt began to settle into her mind. “The treatment room is this way.”

“I’ll bet he made it sound like he’s damaged. Like he’s been this innocent victim all his life, with me in the driver’s seat of the wrecking ball. Poor Zed. Boo hoo. Poor little thing. Mom and Dad tried their best with him. They used to ask my advice on how to deal with him.”

That’s called triangulation, you big dipshit. It accompanies complete dysfunction.
“Okay, if you’re not going back to the treatment room, I have other things to do.”

“He used me to get to girls. His brother the marine hooked ‘em, he’d partake. We’ve had some good times when I’m on leave. I’m the muscle, he’s the sensitivity. Did he tell you we’re a team? The ladies loved it. With me, they’d get a real man. With him, they’d get to share feelings and girly shit. Lawson and Zed. Two sides of the same fucking…and I mean
fucking…
coin. Man, we had some good times.” He chuckled.

“Going now,” Beck said. The doubt seed began to sprout, tiny roots winding their tendrils into her mind. Her feet stayed glued in place.

“Ask him about San Francisco. Make sure and tell him I didn’t tell you anything. He’s especially embarrassed about that one. Ask him.”

Without another word, Beck spun on her heel and stalked toward the treatment room.
He’s a psycho. Is he telling the truth?
She and Zed were going to have a long, long talk when she got home…to his house. And then she might simply head back to her bed, in
her
house. No more cohabitation. It was fun while it lasted. No one lied to Beck Tosetti,
ever
.

Zed stared at the card in front of him, eyeing it as if it didn’t make sense. He blinked, trying to clear his gaze. Stared some more. Finally picked up his smart-phone and dialed.

“Dr. Taylor’s office,” an efficient female receptionist answered. “How can I help you?”

“I’m sorry, wrong number.” Zed swiftly hung up the phone. “Chicken,” Zed said, making hen noises. “You’re nothing but a chicken, Farrell.” He picked up the phone again.

“Hey, man.” Mitch’s gruff voice floated into his ear like a beckoning life raft. “I’m about to head to the gym. What’s doing?” As scary as the guy appeared on the outside, he also provided safe haven for Zed. Zed had learned to trust him after that first fucked up faux pas.

“I can’t do it. I can’t call this doctor. Beck wants me to see this hot shit psychologist to get help with the blackouts but I can’t do it.”

A sigh met his ears. Zed pictured the male’s large palm running over the top of his smooth, shaved head, could almost hear the rasp of skin against skin, the way Mitch did when frustrated or thoughtful.

“I’m not your master or your maker. This is between you and you. I think it’s wise, your girl thinks it wise, but we’re only the chorus making noise.”

Zed puffed his cheeks with air and let it out slowly. “Can you think of any other option? Anything at all?”

“Any option for what?” Mitch asked.

“For getting my memories back. Maybe if I get them back, I’ll stop blacking out.” As silence met his ears, he again pictured the male thoughtfully rubbing the top of his head. Stroking his chin. Maybe taking a sip of his ever present black caffeine.

“I’m not going to go on record as being the one who suggested this but…”

“Understood,” Zed said.

“You might try recreating the crime.”

“Recreating the crime, how?”

“Head to San Diego. Get a room at that same hotel. See if you can walk the path you walked that night. One of my buddies did that. It worked for him. He’d given up on therapy. It’s worth a shot.”

“Yeah,” Zed said, feeling a strong sense of dread and apprehension. “Maybe not a good idea. The race is in a couple weeks. I can’t blow that. But I can’t blackout or disappear during the race.”

“Or the rest of your life,” Mitch said. “Not a good idea to blackout, ever. What if you’re driving? Or sexing your woman?”

Zed scoffed, “I know, I know. Maybe I should call that psych guy.”

“You know my thoughts. And healing the mind is not a slam dunk. It’s not like you see a therapist, and he fixes you in one session. It’s a process.”

“Yeah, okay. Well, thanks for the suggestion. You’ve given me something to think about.”

“Anything else?”

“Nah, I’m good. Well, I mean nothing else on my mind.”

“Things okay with your girl?”

Zed’s face flushed. “Better than okay. I don’t want to blow it.”

“Stay true to yourself. You don’t want to pretend to be someone you’re not. That’s how you can blow it, big time.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mitch.”

After disconnecting, Zed gave the matter two seconds worth of thought, and raced to The Farm.
He’d been putting off another trip to San Diego to research plant stock for the same reason Mitch suggested he head down there. He worried it would trigger more shit, some crazy episode or something.

Once he pulled into the parking lot, he practically ran for the office. “Hey, boss,” he said to Chuck Chiton, the owner of The Farm.

“Zed.” The older man, removed his reading glasses, and lifted his arms in a stretch. “Been here since five this morning. Already whooped.”

“What’s the big push that needed you in so early?”

“Oh, you know, looking over the numbers, plant stock, things like that. We got some new shipments in last night and I had to enter the data. Truck broke down over on Hwy 104. It came in after you left.”

“Why didn’t you call me? You know I’d help.”

“Nah. Got to do something to keep in shape. Not running a marathon, like you. How’s it going?”

“Great. I’m up to multiples – meaning swim/bike, run/swim…things like that.”

Chuck nodded. “It would take some serious work to get me to do that.” He grabbed a fat bulge from his belly and squeezed it. “And what would I leave my wife to hold on to?”

Zed chuckled. “Say, Chuck. What do you say I make the run down to San Diego you’ve been bugging me to do?”

Chuck’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you said you didn’t want to do that run ever again?  You said…and I quote… ‘Sorry, boss, hell no to So Cal.’ I know that’s where you had the, er…the accident.”

“Yeah.” Zed reddened. “Something’s come up that I need to do down there. Thought I’d kill the two proverbial birds.” He winced at the word “kill,” shifting back and forth on his feet. “You know. Do a good deed while I’m down there. For you.”

“Well,” Chuck said, peering at the computer screen. “Let me crunch some numbers and see what I can do. Were you thinking this weekend would be good?”

“Yeah. I’d be able to make it up in training.”

His boss nodded.

“How’s your patent coming on the mulch?”

“Tick, tock. It’s a waiting game at this point.” He hadn’t mentioned it to Beck, yet. Didn’t want to disappoint himself or her if it fell through.

“I’m tickled pink at you, son. You’re doing good things for this place. And for yourself, by the looks of it. Still dating that young woman you mentioned?”

“Yep. It’s going great. Well…” Zed smiled. “I’d better get to work. Let me know about San Diego.” When he sauntered out of the office, he let out a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck. It freaked him to go back to the “scene of the crime.” He stopped, squeezed the bridge of his nose and thought
I’ll run it past Jace tonight. See what he thinks. Maybe I can take Beck. She’d be a great ally to have, as well as…
his cock started to stir and happy dance. He swiftly thought of the work he had to do today to get it to stop.

Hours later, after the training that evening, Zed and Jace sat at a small black and white checked cloth covered table at Tapt’s drinking ales. “So, Beck might stop by.”

“That’s cool,” Jace said. “Any idea when?”

“She gets off at six. After that.”

“Okay, that gives us time to go over things. You’re doing great with the physical training. How’s your mental state?”

“Great.”

Jace tipped his head and studied him. “How’s your mental state?” he asked again. “The truth this time?”

“This shy of a train wreck,” Zed said, pinching his thumb and index finger together. “Beck told me I keep spacing. Blanking out. I did it again at the Marine Mammal Center. I swear I saw someone watching me with binocs from the viewing station. My sis told me it took her five minutes to get my attention. I wasn’t aware of any of it. Fucking hell.”

“Where’s your bro?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“You might start caring,” Jace said. He lifted his mug and took a swig. “If my brother was on the hunt, I’d want to be aware of the prick’s every move. I’d want to know his whereabouts.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll get an invite to a welcome home party or something from my mom the second he arrives.” Zed scoffed, lifting his beer to his lips. He took a healthy swallow and put the mug down with a thunk. “I want to ask your opinion on something.”

“Shoot.”

“I’m thinking of heading down to San Diego…to the crime scene.” Zed fidgeted in his chair.

“Is that a good idea? We’ve got to amp up your training, big time.”

“I made a deal with Beck to go see this fancy ass psychologist about the blackouts. But I can’t do it. Mitch suggested I retrace my steps. You know, see if it jogs anything loose.”

“Mitch is no therapist.”

“I know that, he knows that. I begged him for a suggestion other than heading to shrink-land.”

Jace rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know, man. Race is coming right up. Don’t you have enough to worry about?”

“Yeah, but what if I blackout on the run? On the bike? While driving? Or loving on Beck, huh?” He repeated what Mitch said, trying to jack up his enthusiasm for the trip.

“Yeah, I hear you.”  Jace’s hand moved to the back of his neck.  “I just think it’s a really bad idea.”

“Yeah, but it’s my bad idea, so it doesn’t affect you.”

“Fuck, Zed.” Jace drained his beer and lifted his glass, signaling the waitress. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Look, I’ll only be gone a couple days. I’ll workout down there. I’ll be fine. And I might return without a hole in my head…” He blanched. “A memory hole.” Zed glanced at this phone checking the time.
Beck should be here soon.

“So, besides worrying about your dipshit brother, and your memory—not that it’s not important—what else is up for you about the race?”

“Shit. Everything’s up. I don’t want to be one of those DNF racers, for starts. If that’s the case, I may as well not even start.” He drained his glass. “Another good reason to head down to Cali.”

“Quit lobbying for your cause. It’s your sanity, not mine. And if for some reason, you end up with a Did Not Finish next to your name, well, there’s always next time. At least you tried.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Fuck that. As for San Diego, if you feel it’s important, do it.”

Zed let out a breath. “Thank you. I do and I am. Boss dog already approved it.”

“What’s with all the ‘thinking about it’ shit then?” Jace glared at him.

“I’m not on the plane, yet, am I?” Zed countered. He stared at this phone, twirling it idly.

The waitress came over with Jace’s beer, asked Zed if he’d like another. He nodded and off she went.

“Honestly, I don’t want to go. It’s a last ditch effort before therapy.”

“Now the truth emerges.”

“You should talk.”

“I know, I’ve done my share of cover ups. Can’t afford to do that now. I’ve got a family to raise.”

“Yeah.”

“Now, tell me more about any thoughts you have about the race.”

“What, like the thought that I’ll let Rickie down or look like a fool in front of Beck? What good is that going to do?”

“Just get ‘em out. What else?”

“Shit. Are
you
playing therapist, Savage?”

“Nope, we need to talk about this. The better prepared you are mentally and physically, the better you’ll do.” He took a swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Let’s see, I’m worried I’ll get a flat, I’ll blackout, I won’t finish, I didn’t train hard enough, I’ll blackout…oh, wait, I already said that one.” Zed smirked as he ticked his fears off on his fingers. “And I’ll look so stupid, I’ll fall or something…and Beck will leave me.”

Jace frowned and fingered the edge of his paper napkin. “Normal shit,” he said.

“How would you know?”

“Fuck, Zed, I’ve been talking to people, what do you think? I ask for advice, feedback, whatever, every time I go to the gym.”

“You do?”

“Hell, yeah. I’m invested in the outcome, I want you to make your nephew proud. Kids are important.”

Zed snickered and shook his head. He glanced at this phone again. “I wonder what’s keeping Beck? She said she’d be here.”

“She probably got tied up at work. Any other fears we need to be concerned with?”

“What if I have to take a dump?”

Jace laughed. “I hope you’re more regular than that.”

“You asked.”

“And that’s what you came up with?”

“It’s crossed my mind, yeah. I don’t dwell on it or anything.” His eyes landed on his phone. “Maybe I’ll give her a call.”

“Give it a rest. You don’t want her to feel smothered.”

“Oh my God, you’re an expert in relationships now?” Zed laughed.

“Hey, I’ve learned a lot in a short time.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let it rest, coach. So, next week we increase the length of the multiples, right?”

“Roger that. We’ll alternate between bike/swim, run/swim and run/bike. I thought of doing some training in the Sound. You cool with that?”

“Yeah. What’s the temp lately?”

“I checked with the scuba dive shop and got reports of 53-54 degrees.”

“That’s brisk.”

“Yeah, but you’re a tough guy.”

Zed and Jace kept up their friendly banter until Jace said, “I’ve got to get home. Zoé’s making meatloaf.”

“I thought she didn’t eat beef.”

“She doesn’t. She’s making it with ground turkey. It’s a concession on her part to feed her meat eating, muscle building man.” He flexed his massive biceps.

“Show off.” Zed flexed his smaller one.

“Nah. You’re leaner than me. Always have been. You’ve got the body of a runner. Don’t worry about it.”

“Not worried.” Zed tossed a few bills on the table and got up.