Twelve

Twelve

Present Day

Sean came awake in a rush with the knowledge of two things: he drank too much the night before, and he was not alone. The first one had to do with the bottle of bourbon he'd crawled into the previous night. The latter came from years of experience.

He slipped his hand beneath the pillow to get his gun. He found nothing but cool sheets. Unfuckingbelievable. Since his trip to Thailand, everything in his life had gone to shit. Nothing had gone right after that night. That's what he got for being greedy. One bad job with a high price tag, and he couldn't seem to shake the clusterfuck his life had become.

"You don't need to worry about that," said a familiar female voice behind him. Her English accent had faded, but he knew the tone. Jaime was pissed.

Damn, his luck was getting shittier and shittier.

He turned over and tried to keep from groaning in pain—and failed miserably. His head spun and his stomach threatened to revolt. Every inch of his body ached as if someone had beaten the living shit out of him. Even the time when he'd been "interrogated" for a week in the Philippines hadn't left him in this sorry of shape. Worse thing was he had only himself to blame for his present situation.

He blinked at the vision standing in his room. Jaime Andrews dressed as if she were Kama'aina. But then, that was something she had always been good at. She could fit in any situation. The blue t-shirt made her Pacific blue eyes stand out even more. She had tied the shirt in a knot beneath her breasts, allowing for a view of her smooth rich brown flesh. She still had the belly ring she had gotten when they had done a job in Venezuela. Her hair was up, off her neck, and he liked it that way. It always gave him better access.

"Oh, you are a right mess, Sean," Jaime said.

"What the hell are you here for, and why did you break into my house?"

"I wanted to knock on the door like a regular person. Randy decided we needed to break in."

She motioned with her head across the room and, sure enough, Randy was there. Of course Randy was there. It was the way his luck had been going lately, not to mention, Randy and Jaime had been joined at the hip for over a year now.

Shit. He couldn't catch a fucking break. The two people who meant more to him than anyone else—until that trip to Thailand— where there to see him look like an ass. His world had been turned upside down, and he hadn't wanted to pull his former lovers into the mess his life had become.

He didn't want to face them, to let them see where he had ended up.

Sean tried to sit up and found his stomach roiling. A soft trade wind blew through the opened window, bringing with it the smell of plumeria. It was a scent that never failed to remind him of Hawaii and give him comfort—until that moment. Now, the usually pleasant fragrance made his mouth water and his belly tremble. Fuck, he'd had too much to drink. He sort of remembered the night before. It came to him in flashes. Someone had been there giving him shit about drinking too much. Del—that's who it had been. He'd appeared at Rough ‘n Ready and dragged him out of the club. The memory of Del's voice as he yelled at him on the drive home pounded through Sean's head. Then, Sean remembered a very pregnant Ali was there, helping him to bed and telling him he would feel like rubbish in the morning.

"Whoa, I wouldn't move too fast if I were you," Randy said. He was dressed in cargo pants, a tight blue t-shirt, and his feet were bare. At least Randy could remember the rules of his house, even if they weren't sleeping together anymore. He'd been in the sun recently. The tips of Randy's hair always had turned to gold silk when he'd spent time on a beach. And, as usual, Randy looked fucking good enough to eat. Sean knew just how tasty that treat was.

That thought had him scowling. He'd moved on. He didn't need either one of them. He was independent and didn't need the pain.

"I think I know what I can handle."

Randy rolled his eyes and walked over to the open doors that led out to the lanai. Sean could hear the lapping of waves against the shore. Normally it soothed him, but today, it made him want to throw up. Everything did.

Jaime sat down on the bed. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

He saw the concern in her eyes and heard it in her voice. Years ago he would have been thankful for it. Hell, he would have begged for it. These days, he needed to keep her far away. Jaime and Randy were his kryptonite, together they were deadly to his well-being even on a good day. The way things had been going they would probably the death of him.

"I think I'm sitting in my bed asking questions that are not getting answered."

"Oh, well, someone isn't in a good mood. Not our fault that you got pissed last night," Jaime said.

"I didn't know you were living on Oahu now," Randy said, breaking into the conversation.

Sean didn't think he needed to answer that question. With as much dignity that he could muster, he scooted over to the edge of the mattress and stood up. He wobbled a bit but recovered before he could embarrass himself.

"Oy, where are you going?" Jaime asked.

He slanted her a dirty look and decided to hit her right where it would hurt. "Be careful, Ms. Alexander, your roots are showing."

With that, he walked into his bathroom and shut the door. Closing his eyes, he drew in deep breaths as the room spun around him. Embarrassingly, he had to lean against the door or he would have passed out. His whole freaking house seemed to be built on a merry go round, or it felt like it this morning.

When he opened his eyes, he saw his reflection in the mirror. His eye was blackened. His torso was yellow and purple. Shit, what the hell had he done last night?

With a shake of his head, he decided he'd call Del later to find out what happened. Sean knew it wasn't going to be a story he would enjoy, and there was a good chance he would owe his old friend more favors.

"He doesn't look that bad," Randy said.

Jaime glanced over her shoulder at him, then back out at the waves rolling in from the Pacific. The sound of the surf coming in was the only thing keeping her calm. Her nerves had been on edge since both she and Randy had realized Sean was missing from their lives. Of course, as soon as they arrived, Randy was rationalizing the situation. Men, they always stuck up for each other. Wankers.

"He looks like shit warmed over."

There was a pause as if Randy was trying to figure out what to say next. He probably was. She'd been ranting the entire time they searched for him.

"He's looked worse."

Irritation fluttered through her. How could he not understand? The man they both loved had just dropped off the face of the earth, then appeared in Hawaii acting completely out of character. There was something wrong and not something little. This was cock up your life kind of horrible.

"Maybe after a job. Not when he's been lying around like some kind of slacker. Just what the hell is that about anyway? He has never been a man who liked to waste time."

"Well, it's not a bad place to do his laying about. I wonder where he got the money for this?"

Jaime looked around the grounds below and knew something was really wrong. This was a house that would be featured on Hawaii Five-O where a socialite might have been killed. The furnishings had been masterfully chosen, and not by Sean. He'd like finer things, but he had no sense of style. The colors, the styles, they all looked as if someone had spent time and money to perfect the look. That definitely wasn't Sean. And, she knew one thing for sure; this had taken money. Sean had always had money, but he hadn't had this kind of money. The house was four million—at least. The way real estate prices had been ballooning on Oahu in the last couple of years, it was probably going for a lot more. That kind of money did not just plop down in your lap.

She knew the last few years, Sean had been playing fast and loose with his jobs. Getting involved with Lassiter was one of the worst decisions Sean had ever made after they split up. Randy and Jaime had walked away from taking jobs with Lassiter, partially for personal reasons, but also because Lassiter had made some dubious connections lately. Sean had kept working for him. It was his involvement with the bastard that had been Sean's downfall—or so they heard. Both Randy and Jaime had done jobs with Sean that were sketchy, mainly because they had wanted to protect him. Knowing he had gone on a job by himself, then disappeared off the edge of the earth had worried her. Subsequently…as the months had rolled by, and they didn't hear anything about him…both she and Randy had started to worry. They couldn't really put the call out for him because it might cause him issues, so they had sifted through the evidence. It had been long and painstaking, but they had finally found out what the hell happened.

Burned. As in, no connections, no protection…ruined in their business. He was considered a security risk, thanks to Lassiter—another man who had let her down more than once.

The race to find him overtook their every thought. She knew that Sean would be an ass and say he didn't need them, but he did. Burned in their world was ten times worse than being dead. At least dead you knew the pain was over.

"Babe?" Randy asked. He was worried about her. She had been a bitch on a mission from the moment they had found out.

"He's not working, we both know that."

Sean was always resourceful, but the massive mansion on Oahu was beyond his means. Not to mention the Jag and the pimped out Escalade in the driveway. There was something very wrong going on with Sean, and it wasn't all about his burning.

Randy stepped up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him. She took comfort in the warmth he offered her. He was a calming influence.

"He's okay. We'll figure out what's going on."

She sighed and let the worries she had been holding in for more hours than she wanted to think about release. It wasn't easy. It never was when it came to Sean. He was the one person who could hurt both of them without even thinking. He never understood why the two of them kept coming back.

Wanker.

"We should have gotten here sooner."

It was Randy's turn to sigh. She had repeated that phrase over and over for the past week. "Babe, you know we couldn't. We didn't know about his burning until last week."

"We should have known."

The world of security experts—especially on their level—was a small one. Everyone knew each other and, on some days, your enemy could be your best friend. The fact that she and Randy had not heard anything was, to say the least, odd. Lassiter had not told them, but then, Jaime and he were barely speaking.

"It's weird that we had not heard anything. If he's been burned for six months, someone would have said something. Hell, Lassiter should have told us."

Just another transgression to lay at the feet of Royce. The man had been nothing but trouble from start to finish, and now he had hidden Sean's status from them. She had an idea why, but she couldn't tell Randy. Not yet.

"You heard what Ross told us," she said. "He's been hanging out here in Oahu. Lord only knows why, because he always said it was too busy for him. He preferred the Big Island."

"Let's face it. There is no Rough ‘n Ready there. Of course, after his behavior from last night, he might not have a membership anymore."

Club owner Micah Ross had been furious last night, but she got the feeling he was more worried about Sean than mad at him. It was the reason he poured out all the info he had on him when they had shown up. The fights, the drinking, and the fact that something was driving him into this behavior. If an acquaintance Sean didn't know that well knew of his issues, it was definitely getting bad.

Randy shook his head. "There is something bothering him. You know he likes to brood."

"Yes, but he has never been a drunk."

And she knew why. They both did. Control was something that was so important to Sean, and drinking to excess was something he never did. Not in all the years she had known him had she ever seen him pissed, but apparently, he had been spending most of his nights that way.

"Hey," Randy said, resting his chin on her shoulder. "We'll help him sort it all out. I promise."

She closed her eyes. Tears threatened, but she would not show it. She would not lose it. She had her dignity left—and that was something she planned on holding onto. Still, it was hard to deal with Sean who had no idea what this did to both she and Randy. When he hurt, they hurt.

"I don't know what the two of you are cooking up, but I don't need your fucking help."

Randy moved away from her to look at him. Jaime opened her eyes and turned to face Sean. He didn't look any better…and he looked so damned beautiful. From the moment she'd met him all those years ago, she had never been able to take her eyes off him. He was one of those men who just seemed to capture the attention of everyone in the room.

He'd changed clothes, pulling on a pair of loose white pants and a shirt to match. At least now she couldn't see the purple bruising that had covered his chest. Even if she didn't know what he did for a living, she would recognize the lethal grace in his movements. And sweet. He was so damned sweet, but people didn't see it in him. They only saw the player. She knew the man who could make her laugh, and who would happily feed her chocolates in bed.

It didn't excuse him for being an ass, however. She decided to lay it out on the line so Sean knew exactly where they stood.

"Let's just say that we are here for answers and we aren't leaving until we get them."