Provoke

Chapter Twenty-Five

Leeta

“So, you just turn up on this guy's doorstep and expect him to spill his guts?” It didn't sound that much of a plan to me. It was later that evening, and Mace had stopped over. I assumed on his way to confront the buyer. I had already texted Ben, ready for him to pick me up once Mace had left.

“Yep, that's what I'm thinking. Are you ready?” he asked looking over at me.

My mouth fell open. “You mean you’re letting me come?”

“If I've learned anything by now it’s that there’s nothing that I can say that is going to stop you doing what you want.” He kissed the top of my head and walked towards the door.

Shit. That wasn't part of the plan.

“Wait,” I called out. “We, uh, we can't go yet.”

“Why?” Mace asked, confused. “We don't have time to waste. We need to get moving.” The doorbell rang. I bit my lip, trying to ignore his confused look as I raced to answer the door.

This is not good.

Hey.” Ben smiled at me. I smiled back, trying not to notice how sexy he looked in his jeans, white tee, shirt and jacket. I turned around and smiled at Mace, who was glaring at me.

“Okay, so I didn't actually think you were going to let me go with you,” I began.

How the hell was I going to get myself out of this mess?

Mace and Ben in the same room with me? That was a train wreck waiting to happen.

“Leet, who the fuck is this guy?” Mace growled, his eyes shooting daggers at me.

“This is Ben,” I said weakly.

“Ben?” repeated Mace, his voice dark. “As in your ex-fiancé Ben?”

“The one and only.” I laughed. This is so not funny. “Look, I called him because I didn't think you were going to let me go with you. There was no way in hell I was going to let you go there alone.”

“Fine, but why him? Why couldn't you've called Tim or someone?”

“Hey,” Ben said, waving. “Right here.”

“Tim?” I snorted, ignoring Ben. “You’ve got to be kidding me! What use would he be if you were knocked unconscious and dragged inside this dude’s house?”

“Great, so he knows everything?” He shook his head in disgust and stormed outside. I pushed Ben out the door, slamming it shut, and raced after Mace.

“Just put your ego aside for one second and think about your sister, okay? Can you do that?” I asked, grabbing his arm. “This isn't about you and me. Or Ben. It's about finding these guys, right?”

Mace nodded, but his expression told me he was far from happy with the whole situation.

“Fine. Let's go.”

I jumped in the front or his car, Ben getting in the back. Mace turned to me, a snide look on his face.

“Any other boyfriends we need to pick up? Maybe an ex-husband or two?”

“Can you shut the fuck up and just drive?” I snapped. Then I laughed. “I'm sorry, but you’re the last person to be having a go at me right now, so quit it, Mace. Before you say something you’ll regret.”

He muttered something under his breath and then reached for the stereo knob, turning the volume up. I sighed loudly, resting my head against the window.

It was pointless trying to talk to him now. Maybe I shouldn't have called Ben, but I only did it because I was worried about Mace. Why couldn’t he see that?

The address we had was for a house in a quiet street in one of Melbourne's more affluent suburbs. I shivered, goosebumps trailing up my arms. This was not the type of place I’d expected someone who was into this kind of shit would be living. It shouldn’t have shocked me as much as it did; in my line of work, I was forever learning it was often the people you least expected to be keeping the biggest secrets. I glanced sideways at Mace.

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now we go up there and get some answers.”

Mace got out of the car. I winced as the door slammed. So maybe he was still a little bit angry. I turned in my seat and flashed Ben a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about this,” I said. “He's not always so tightly wound.”

Ben's eyes twinkled as he smirked at me. “You’re sure about that? It seems to me that you have a type.”

“Just get out and stay the hell out of the way,” I muttered. The last thing I needed were his games.

We walked up to the door. I glanced at Mace, looking for a sign of nerves, or anything that would tell me how he was feeling. He took a breath, exhaling quickly, and then rapped loudly on the door.

He's shaking. I wanted to reach out and touch him, let him know I was there for him, but I knew that wouldn't help. Right then, that would probably make things worse.

My heart jumped as the door flew open. A guy stood there. He was just an average-looking guy—mid-thirties, moderately attractive . . . just an ordinary-looking guy.

Next to me, I heard Mace gasp. My head whipped sideways. Did he know the guy? I looked from the guy to Mace and back again.

The guy stood there, brow furrowed, a blank expression on his face. Recognition flashed through his eyes, then shock, and finally he smiled.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is. Mace, right?”