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If it was this hard to walk away from Skinner, then Jackson knew that he had made the right choice sneaking away from Finn and Michael. Skinner walked with him to the bike. He even gave the seat a little pat. Maybe Skinner would come around and one day they could go on a ride together.
Looking at Skinner’s pressed suit, Jackson decided not to hold his breath.
“You’ll kill yourself on that thing,” Skinner said.
With a laugh, Jackson swung his leg over the bike.
“Where’s your helmet?”
Jackson grinned.
He restarted the bike and before he could get derailed once again, he took off out of the motel gravel parking lot. The back tire slipped but Jackson was able to hold the heavy machine up and shoot off onto the highway.
Jackson was pretty sure that Skinner would be cursing him, but he lifted his face to allow the morning sun to warm him. If he left feeling a little bit colder on the inside than ever before, only he was aware.
There was a small part of him that worried that Skinner was right, but the voice inside his head reminded him what if felt like to be left behind.
Even though his father had always promised to come back for him, Jackson had known that one day his father wouldn’t be able to talk himself out of the trouble he was often in.
At least his father had taught him valuable life lessons. There wasn’t any place that Jackson couldn’t break into. When he’d been scooped up by the organization that had owned him, Skinner, Lance, and Mac, Jackson was already a master thief. He’d been taught better skills and given equipment that Jackson’s father would have only dreamed about.
They’d also put a gun in Jackson’s hand.
Jackson didn’t carry around guilt for the things that he had stolen. Not when he was young and trying to survive and not when he was older and being paid handsomely. Killing was another issue. Jackson could and had killed but it wasn’t like stealing. He didn’t get the same thrill or rush. Killing just made him sick. That was his calling though. He had a job to do when the justice system failed those that needed them the most.
At least Jackson could trust that if Lance had a target, then the person deserved to die. He no longer had to follow blindly. Jackson had choices that he could make. Just like his choice to leave town and let Finn and Michael move on without him.
Chapter Five
Finn
Finn wiped the condensation off the mirror as he peered at his reflection. He wanted to remain calm and give Jackson the benefit of doubt, but he was furious. When he and Michael had woken up without even the lingering warmth of Jackson, Michael had been devastated, and honestly so had Finn. He’d allowed himself to believe that Jackson was on the same page as them, but his disappearing act spoke volumes.
When Finn finally did catch up to Jackson, he was going to tie that man down until they had a serious talk.
Michael had returned to his own apartment and Finn started to format a plan. He’d jumped in the shower as he worked the details out in his mind.
If Jackson wanted to be a stubborn ass, then Finn could out-stubborn him. Sending out several messages, Finn knew he was taking extreme measures, but that seemed all that Jackson responded to. It was time for Finn to step up for both his men. Finn needed to make sure that the foundation under their relationship was solid and if it took him a fucking week, he was going to prove that he was the man that Jackson and Michael needed.
Luckily, he had plenty of friends who wouldn’t hesitate to help him out.
A little privacy and getting away from town would be perfect. He sent one last message to his manager, clearing his and Michael’s schedule for the next week. He’d keep the surprise for Michael as well as Jackson, knowing that Michael would have a great time. Jackson he wasn’t so sure about, but this plan would either cement Jackson with them or everything would have to end.
Now he just needed to track down Jackson, and even if he had to shove him into his truck, maybe blindfolded and gagged and definitely tied up. Jackson would look amazing tied with a bow just for him.
Finn went about shaving and cleaning up before he exited the bathroom. He paused in the bedroom, something about the stillness of his apartment not sitting right with him. Slowly and carefully, he crept to the dresser and pulled his gun from the top drawer. He kept his old gun loaded. He did live above his club. Crime wasn’t huge in his city, but Finn was a cautious man. Still, he hadn’t had to fire the thing since he’d left the service.
With the towel still wrapped around his waist, Finn pressed his naked back to the wall as he silently stalked down the hall.
He paused before the entry to the living room and took a deep breath before he stepped out into view. The open concept of his apartment didn’t give him much cover, but it also helped that he spotted the man sitting in the wingback chair in the corner by the window.
“What are you doing here?” Finn asked. He didn’t lower the gun he’d aimed at the other man’s face.
“We need to talk.”
“So, you decided to break into my apartment?”
Skinner snorted. “Not to sound too much like Jackson, but I didn’t break anything. I simply let myself in and waited for you to get done showering.”
