“I went to college on a scholarship because I studied my ass off in school. Didn’t have any friends, so what the hell else was I gonna do? Then I got pulled into the FBI Academy. Supposed to be life changing. Only on my first case, I was fucking hung out to dry by the team that should’ve had my back. I was jumped by five thugs in an alley—”
“You held your own pretty well,” Remy remembered.
“Yousaved my ass. I’d been made as an agent—because people in the Bureau sold me out. You knew I was a Fed when you found me getting beaten to hell and back, and you didn’t care. You still helped me.”
“Helped? Seriously? I fucked up your world. You were supposed to bring down my family, and instead, I brought you down with me.” Because Constantine had learned the truth about Remy’s screwed-up father. He’d learned all about the family business, and then things had really gone to hell.
When my father was murdered and when we learned that sometimes the FBI could be dirty.
He’d spent too long tracking down the people responsible for his father’s death. Constantine had helped him.And now I’m trying to help him.
“You want to hear something crazy? You were my first real friend.” Constantine exhaled. “You included me in everything you did—”
“I included you in my madness, that was what I did. And look how that turned out for us.”
“I’m talking aboutfamily,jackass. You had me at your house for Christmas. You made sure I had turkey on Thanksgiving.”
He actually had. He’d brought Constantine home, even introduced him to Iris. Remy had always tried to make things good—normal,or as normal as he could—for Iris back in those days. So, yeah, they’d done the Christmas routine. Thanksgiving.
Until Remy’sfamilyhad imploded.
“The team I was working with in those days—I couldn’t trust them. They set me up to die in that alley, andyousaved my ass. I was a complete amateur, didn’t know anything, but you taught me how to fight and survive.”
“Some would say I turned you into a monster.”
“Better a monster than a victim.” A shake of Constantine’s head. “So what would my life have been like if I hadn’t met you? I don’t know. Can’t say for certain, but I think it would have been a lot worse. Or actually, I think I might not have evenhada life. Because if I hadn’t been killed in that alley, I’m sure another attack would have followed shortly.”
Maybe. Maybe not. “What if it could have been better? Don’t you have dreams, man? Things that you want now? You’re clear. You don’t need me dragging you down. Go find some fucking happy life and get a fairytale ending.”
Constantine’s laugh was bitter. “Right. Because I’m the prince charming in the story. Not gonna happen.”
Not for either of us.Dammit.
“Pull the I’m-a-villain bullshit with someone else,” Constantine advised, voice gruff. “Despite what you want to think,youare not your dad. Sometimes, you do the right thing. Like when you save a young FBI agent from being beaten to death in a dirty alley…or when you help a damsel in some serious distress who has some rich guy’s goons chasing her.” He brushed by Remy. “Eric is bringing in a chopper for us so it looks like I don’t have to worry about a road trip. The chopper probably will be landing in about thirty minutes, so the timeline you gaveJacqueline works. It will take us to a private airstrip. Eric will send a jet to pick us up from that location. We’ll be down in New Orleans before you know it.”
Before he knew it. Great. He’d be down in the Big Easy, pretending to turn Jacqueline over to the bastard who’d hurt her. His hands fisted as Remy followed Constantine inside.
“Make sure your control is in place,” Constantine said without glancing back at him. “Something tells me that where she’s concerned, you might not be your usual stoic self.”
Stoic?Oh, hell, no. He wasn’t. In fact, where Jacqueline was concerned, he felt far more like a powder keg that was just waiting to explode.
***
A soft knock sounded on the bedroom door. Jacqueline whirled around, clutching the small bag she held to her chest. She’d just packed the bag, stuffing in the extra clothes Constantine had brought and some toothpaste she’d borrowed from Remy.
Speak of the devil.
The door swung open, and Remy stood in the doorway. Looking intense. Undeniably sexy. And dangerous.
In other words, typical Remy. “You smolder.”
He blinked. “Come again?”
She gestured toward him, raising the bag. “You smolder. I don’t think you even realize you do it. But you just…do. All the time.” A barely controlled sensuality that hovered beneath his surface. “You are far and away the sexiest man I’ve ever met.”
Remy strolled into the room. “Glad to hear that.”
“There is no way I will ever forget you.” The bed behind her was still rumpled—wrecked—from their, ah, bout earlier.