4-Bound By Danger by SE Jakes Page B

sagged under the weight of his responsibility. He threw his phone across the room, wondering if the helpless feelings would ever fucking go away. He’d had too much of them from childhood, and now they were returning with an unexpected vengeance.
     
     
    Jace put one foot in front of the other for the next couple of days. Went to base and worked himself out until he was too tired to do, feel and think about Tomcat, or Kenny and the fact that he’d gone on a goddamned drug run and was now in way over his head. He’d need to get Kenny a secure line or stop talking to him completely about getting out, because he was pretty sure the club was monitoring Kenny’s every move.
    Tonight, being tired wasn’t working, wasn’t enough to keep him from pacing his room in frustration. He showered again, letting the hot water sluice over his tense muscles, but he didn’t even have the heart to jerk off. He bypassed the bed in favor of food and headed to the kitchen. He paused when he walked in that room because he swore something wasn’t exactly right and then figured he was just too close to being out of combat. He was always suspicious and jumpy for weeks when he came home, and shooting at a random cabinet wasn’t going to help him.
    He leaned into the fridge and felt body heat behind him. Froze.
    “I’ve died and risen before,” the voice whispered, and Jace elbowed Tomcat—a very much alive Tomcat—in the ribs and pushed away.
    “Goddamn it.” He whirled around and stared at the man he’d been mourning. Deep down, he’d suspected as much but refused to let himself believe.
    Dead or disappeared—either way, he’d assumed Tomcat was gone from his life forever. “You can’t just show up like this, you asshole.”
    Tomcat shrugged unapologetically and Jace fought the urge to punch him as hard as he could. Tomcat didn’t say anything, and he looked like a completely different person and still completely hot.
    His hair was shorter but still pulled back, eyes were green, not brown, and his skin was smooth-shaven and tanned.
    If anyone passed him on the street, they might see a slight resemblance, but as far as undercover disguises went, Jace had to admit that the guy was good.
    “What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?” Jace demanded. “You’re dead, remember? You’re blowing your cover again.”
    “Thought you were okay with keeping my secret.”
    “I thought I’d be included on the whole dead secret,” Jace shot back.
    “You know what my job is. How else was I supposed to get away from them? And you know I couldn’t tell you.”
    Jace’s eyes hardened. “Fuck you.”
    “We had one weekend.”
    “Yeah? Then what the hell are you doing here?” Jace challenged.
    Tomcat pulled the cemetery pictures out of his pocket and slammed them to the table. Jace looked at them with a shrug of indifference, although he winced internally at how fucking pathetic he looked.
    The rain hadn’t hid his tears well at all. “So I was mourning you.”
    “I popped your cherry—that’s all.”
    “Again, so why are you here if it was just a fuck to you?”
    Tomcat paused. “That’s all it was to you, too. You’ll see. Give it some time.”
    “Now you get to tell me how I feel? I might’ve been a virgin, but I’ve had relationships before,” Jace told him.
    “We don’t have—”
    “A relationship?” Jace finished for him. “Got it, loud and clear. Guess the texts were a figment of my imagination. Welcome back to the land of the living and get the hell out of my house.”
    Tomcat didn’t say anything else except, “My name’s Clint.”
    Jace blinked. “What?”
    “My real name—Clint.”
    Jace muttered something, ran his hand through his hair. “Great. Clint, get the fuck out.”
     
    Clint wasn’t going anywhere, especially since it was the first time in years he’d actually been able to think of himself as Clint for any significant length of time and not Tomcat. Talking wasn’t going to solve this