Over and Back, page 20
“What are you doing here?” Jarrod demanded as he strode across the lobby—or at least he tried to, wincing after a few steps and coming up short.
“We came to see you, Jarrod… or should we call you something else? I suspect you’re registered under a false name. Maybe we should ask the desk clerk who he thinks you are? Hell, why shouldn’t we get you kicked out of here? Maybe he’ll call the police, and then they’ll ask plenty of questions. After all, the Italian police aren’t known for being very cooperative and understanding.”
“You dumb shits have no idea what you’re doing,” he growled.
“Actually, we do.” Grant shrugged. “Making your life difficult is my new hobby.” Grant kept his cool, even though Hank saw the slight strain around his eyes, though he doubted anyone else would. “Hank, I think we’ll be going now.” He turned to leave, and Hank went with him, turning as Jarrod came closer.
“Don’t even think about it, or I’ll let Grant finish what he started. Maybe after a second encounter, you won’t be able to walk at all.” Hank grinned, and they slipped out of the hotel, hurried down the street away from the entrance, and ducked around the corner.
“He freaked,” Grant told Bull, who was waiting for them. “Of course, he threatened us.”
Hank grinned. “I swear he nearly wet himself when he saw us sitting there.”
“Good. Spook is in position, and he’ll follow him to see where he goes. I expect he’ll change hotels. Now we just need to find out where he intends to eat lunch. Then all of us will join him. If he thinks he can get away from us….” Bull paused as Grant pulled out his phone.
“I need to make a call.” Grant waited, and Hank heard the buzz of a European connection. “Yes. I was just in the lobby of your hotel, talking to a gentleman with dark hair and a slight stoop….” He paused. “Yes, I know him as Jarrod Belton….” Grant swallowed and grinned. “Yes, he’s not the most honest person. I’m sorry he gave you a different name. Just make sure you’re covered.” Grant hung up, and Bull actually snorted.
“Damn….”
“Hey, it never hurts to cast some doubt. Regardless of what happened, they are going to want Jarrod out of there as fast as possible, and will probably require him to pay cash. Let the bastard sort it out for himself.” Grant put his phone back in his pocket.
“Remind me never to piss you off, sweetheart,” Hank whispered, and Grant blushed.
“Was it too much?” Grant half whispered.
Bull shook his head. “I wish I’d thought of it. Now let’s get out of here so he can’t take his anger out on us. We have the cathedral tour today. My guess is that Jarrod’s going to be so busy trying to find another hotel, I doubt he’ll bother us.”
“True, but we aren’t any closer to getting him to leave us alone,” Hank observed.
“I don’t know about that,” Grant said with a grin. “He’s learning that he can’t mess with us. We found him quickly, and he has to know that we can do it again. Jarrod is also learning that we aren’t afraid of his gimpy ass and can hound him as well as he hounded us.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Bull asked as Hank slipped his arm around Grant. It was wonderful to see him so confident and self-assured.
“You bet your ass,” Grant answered, and this time he didn’t blush… well, not much.
They followed Bull away from the hotel and met up with the others, then headed out for their tour.
THE DAY was amazing. A steady fresh breeze off the water cooled the air, giving them a break from the heat that had seemed to overwhelm them since the moment they’d landed in Italy.
“I can’t believe we’re going home the day after tomorrow,” Grant said as they stood on the back of the Giudecca Canal. This spot had become a favorite in the city, with the water and the dome of the cathedral in the background. It was probably one of the most photographed views of Venice, but Hank didn’t care in the least. Being here with Grant and being able to share this time with him was magical.
“I know. And I thought that after our little adventure this morning, maybe tonight you and I could go back to the hotel and—” Hank whirled around as his shoulder was grabbed tightly, and he found himself staring straight into Jarrod’s deep, fathomless eyes.
“I have a message for Bull,” he spat.
“Then tell him yourself. He’s right over there,” Grant growled.
Bull charged in their direction. Damn, Hank had never seen him so angry.
He wrenched away from Jarrod as Grant yelped and slipped from his arms. “What the hell?” Hank asked, before a glint of steel caught the sun. Suddenly Jarrod was holding Grant, a knife pressed to his side. Grant remained still as Jarrod glared in Hank’s direction.
“No funny moves this time,” Jarrod hissed to Grant, then turned to Bull. “You’ll tell me what I want to know, or so help me, I’ll slip this between his ribs and he’ll be dead before he even hits the ground. I’m tired of playing games with fuckers who don’t know the rules.”
“What rules, asshole?” Hank demanded. “Let him go.”
Jarrod shook his head. “God, you people are a huge pain in my ass. This was supposed to be simple—just get Bull to tell me where the gold is. That’s all I wanted.” He slowly began moving Grant toward one of the side streets, half dragging him along.
Hank and Bull followed until the shade enveloped them. “You should have known there was no way I was going to tell you anything,” Bull said.
Grant whined, and a small spot of red colored his shirt. Hank was ready to tear this ass a new one, but with Grant in danger, there was nothing he could do. Panic started welling up inside him, and he tamped it down hard. If he was going to help Grant, the man who held his heart in his hands, he was going to have to keep a clear head, even as his heart raced a mile a minute.
“I figured I could wear you down, show you that I wasn’t going to give up. But no, you’re the same stubborn ass you always were. Now you don’t have much choice. Either tell me what I want to know, or the little one here gets it between the ribs.” Jarrod grinned evilly, showing way too much teeth. “I’m tired of messing around.”
“Bull, you don’t need to tell this jerk anything,” Grant said, then groaned as Jarrod dug the knife in a bit deeper.
“Stop it.” Hank’s heart rate sped even faster.
“I will when I get what I want.” Jarrod stared at Bull. “Just tell me what I need to know. Is the gold worth his life? You know I don’t fuck around.”
Bull snorted in derision but didn’t contradict him verbally. “You know I can’t tell you anything. Any more than you can tell me about that operation in the Swiss Alps….” He narrowed his gaze. “Or maybe I can make a phone call, and then you’ll never be safe… from anyone… anywhere.”
Jarrod’s gaze faltered for a second, and Hank wondered exactly what Bull had on Jarrod and why he hadn’t used it earlier. But then Bull was an honorable guy and kept his word.
“Is all of this really worth it?” Bull asked, flicking his gaze to the side.
Jarrod followed it, and with his momentary lapse in attention, Grant let his knees go limp, slumping to the ground and sliding out of Jarrod’s grip. Bull lunged, grabbing the knife. It took Jarrod a second to realize his plan had fallen to pieces. He turned and ran, only to be cut off by Spook, Angus, and Harry.
In a blur of movement, Spook knocked Jarrod’s legs out from under him, and the others grabbed him. Hank wondered exactly why Spook had a pair of handcuffs. With Jarrod’s hands secured, Spook pulled him to his feet and marched him deeper down the side street and away from them, with Angus draping a sweatshirt jacket across Jarrod’s shoulders. The last thing he heard was Spook warning Jarrod that if he made a sound, Spook would break his arms.
Hank raced to Grant and helped him off the ground. He yanked up Grant’s shirt to check his side, where a deep scratch marred his otherwise perfect skin. It had already stopped bleeding. Hank guided him against the building and got a bottle of water out of his daypack, wet a napkin, and dabbed away the blood. “Does it hurt?” He was trying to be so careful.
“I’m okay,” Grant whispered.
“Thank God.” Hank lowered the shirt and cradled Grant in his arms, needing to hold him with the same drive as his lungs craved air. “When he… when I saw you…,” Hank stammered, and Grant wound his arms around his waist. “Damn. It scared the hell out of me.”
“Are you both all right?” Bull asked. “He’s gone, and I think we all need to get back to the hotel. You can relax there, and we can have Angus check out Grant’s wound.” He scanned the entire area.
“Where are they taking Jarrod?” Grant asked, and when Bull didn’t answer, Grant groaned softly. “Fine. Let’s go back to the hotel and put this whole messy situation to bed.” He didn’t release Hank, and Hank held him as tightly as he could while Bull led the way, using back streets to their hotel. Once there, Bull took them right upstairs to his and Zach’s room.
Jarrod lay on his back on the side of the otherwise made-up bed.
“Why did you bring him here?” Grant asked Spook, who shook his head, then stood and left the room. Grant followed him, and Hank wasn’t far behind. He wanted some answers too.
“Don’t worry. I gave him a sedative. He’s going to be asleep for a few hours. But we need to decide what to do with him.” Spook looked squarely at Grant as Bull joined them in the hallway, leaving Angus in the room with Jarrod. Bull motioned, then went down to Spook and Jeremy’s room and slipped inside, with the others following.
Grant put his arms over his chest, tapping his foot, impatience rolling off him.
“What do you want us to do with him?” Bull asked.
“Excuse me?” Hank asked as Grant sputtered. “You’re asking him what you should do?” It was unbelievable.
“You too,” Spook said flatly. “Look, the world that Bull and I come from is harsh, and mistakes have consequences. Bull and I really thought that he would give up and go away, at least in the beginning. What he wanted was impossible for Bull to give him.” Spook sat on the edge of the bed. It made him seem less scary, because in full-on Spook mode, Lowell was frightening.
“He and I should have taken care of him right up front. At least we would have, in our past lives. Jarrod would have either backed off, or he would have disappeared.” Bull sat down as well. “I left that world behind, and I think I’ve gotten soft. I just want to live my life.”
“We both do, and we hate that our past has interfered in your trip and your romance.” Spook actually smiled a little sappily, something Hank would never have thought him capable of. “Because of us, you were both taken, though thankfully you managed to escape. And then today….” Spook leaned closer. “So we’re asking the two of you what you want us to do. We can take him somewhere outside the city and leave him there. We can… make sure he never sees the light of day. I can promise you he will never be found. If that’s what you want.”
Both Bull and Spook were as serious as a heart attack. A chill went up Hank’s spine at the thought. He’d known they had lived tough lives and had done things in the past that he didn’t want to know about, but somehow he’d never imagined it coming to this.
“No,” Grant said softly. “I want him to go away. Make him just leave us all alone. I’d say turn him over to the police, but I know that isn’t necessarily the best option. Can you scare the shit out of him, but not hurt him?”
Spook and Bull exchanged a look before they both nodded. “Yes. We can do that. But think about it. We can get him into the hands of reliable authorities without much fuss now that we have him.”
“Okay. I want to talk to him when he wakes up.”
“Why?” Hank asked.
Grant turned to him. “I want him to know that we held his life in our hands and gave it back to him. That he owes us, and if we never see him again, that’s payment enough. The guy needs help… real serious help, and I hope he gets it.”
A rap on the door made both him and Grant jump.
Bull opened it and swore under his breath before closing it again. “Our guest is waking up, and he’s going to cause trouble,” Bull announced.
Grant got to his feet and left the room. Hank hurried behind him. Angus opened the other door when Grant knocked, and he went right inside.
“Lie still and be quiet,” Grant said immediately as Hank, Bull, and Spook entered the room like a damned parade. Spook closed the door, then stood in front of it, blocking the way.
“Why are you keeping me here?” Jarrod asked, holding his head. Thankfully, he lay back down.
“So I can talk to you.” Grant pulled up the desk chair and sat near the foot of the bed. “I think you and I need to listen to each other.”
Hank stood behind him, gently placing his hands on Grant’s shoulders, letting him know he was there and had Grant’s back.
“You’re here because I have friends… real friends.” Grant turned to the others. “Apparently these are some of the best friends I will ever have in my life, because they asked me if they should kill you for what you did to Hank and me.”
“If you’re going to do it, then stop blathering and get it over with.” Jarrod never lifted his head.
“You don’t understand. If they killed you, it would be painful and drawn out.” Where Grant was getting that, Hank had no idea, but it seemed to work. “You know Bull, so you should know that he never does anything halfway. I asked him not to kill you. Though you probably deserve it.” He placed his hand over his side.
Jarrod lifted his head and blinked. “Yeah, I probably do.” He seemed a little out of it to Hank, who figured he would never admit something like that if his head was perfectly clear. “What do you want? It seems you have me at your mercy now.”
“Yes, I do. I have your life in my hands….” Grant turned to look up at Hank with those incredibly gentle eyes. “I could ask Bull to do to you what you would have done to me. He could slip your knife between your ribs and put you out of your misery forever.”
“Can I sit up?” Jarrod asked.
“Of course,” Grant answered. “We don’t have a gun pointed at you or a knife to your side… at least, not yet. We’re good people that you pushed too far. And this is what we do when that happens.” Grant waited, and Hank stiffened as Jarrod slowly sat up. He and Grant locked gazes for a moment and Grant didn’t flinch or turn away. They seemed to be communicating in some way that Hank didn’t understand. “Bull, I changed my mind. Can you contact Interpol and let them deal with him? I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to take charge of him. That should send a pretty clear message,” Grant added. “He isn’t going to leave us or anyone alone unless he’s out of commission permanently.”
Hank loved how Grant reminded Jarrod, without actually saying it, that they could easily involve his cousin, as well as the rest of his family. Grant stood and moved away from Jarrod, taking the chair with him.
Bull was already on the phone, speaking softly but urgently. It seemed he wasn’t having much difficulty getting what he wanted. Bull leaned down to Jarrod. “They’re going to be pretty happy to get their hands on you, especially after I put a bug in their ear about what happened in the Alps. I’m sure they’ll be able to piece together what really happened.”
Jarrod paled, and Hank moved closer to Grant, taking his hand gently. Jarrod’s body stiffened, and Hank tensed, wondering if Jarrod was about to make a move.
Spook struck, sticking him in the arm with a needle, and within seconds Jarrod lay on the bed once more. “He’ll start to come around in a few minutes, so we need to get him out of here. It’s going to look like he’s drunk.” Spook smiled at Jarrod as he groaned, then helped get him up onto his feet. “Come on, man, you’re drunk off your ass, and we need to get you to your hotel. Where is it?”
Jarrod slurred the name, and Spook nodded.
“That’s really good. We’ll go ahead and take you there.”
Angus pulled open the door and then helped Spook get Jarrod out of the room and down to the stairs. Within minutes, they were out of sight.
“I’ll make a call, and Interpol will pick Jarrod up once he’s away from here. There’s no need for everyone else to be involved now,” Bull said.
“So that’s it?” Hank asked.
“Yes. That should be the end of all of this.” Bull actually smiled.
“Are they really taking him to his hotel?” Grant asked.
“Yes. Interpol will be there to greet him, and they’ll take him into custody. It should be simple and clean.” Bull seemed to relax. “I suggest that both of you go on down to your room for a while. Either that or you can join the guys. They’re playing cards in one of the rooms off the lobby. We all thought it best that they stay out of this.”
Hank got the idea that it had been a much harder task than Bull was letting on at the moment.
“Thanks, Bull, for everything.” Grant hugged him, and, what the hell, Hank did the same. Then they went down to their room and closed the door. Hank collapsed on the bed, and Grant lay down next to him. “Jesus Christ.”
“Shit, we were going to have Angus look at your side.” Hank slipped off the bed and tugged up Grant’s shirt. The cut was little more than a scratch, but it was long. He got a cloth and cleaned it up carefully before tugging off Grant’s shirt.
“What was that for?”
“I thought the injury should get some air. And you need a clean shirt. You’ve got blood all over that one.” He gently ran his fingers along Grant’s uninjured side. “Besides, I like looking at you.”
“Oh?” Grant smiled without a hint of blushing. “You sure you aren’t going to get tired of seeing this skinny body?”
“Nope. I think I could look at you for a long time.” Hank leaned closer. “And I think I could get used to kissing you and tasting you. Maybe make you a permanent addition to the menu.” He held Grant tighter.
