Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) by Elle Aycart Read Free Book Online

could get.

Chapter Four
    One of the advantages of having Jack shadowing her was the wide berth that everyone gave them, even at the Eternal Sun. She hadn’t seen that rambunctious bunch that restrained since…ever, really.
    “What’s taking so long?” Jack asked, barging into her bedroom after inspecting the whole apartment, bodyguard-style. He scanned the bags scattered all around, the vein at his temple pulsing. “How the fuck can you have so much shit? You only came for a couple of days.”
    “It’s not for me,” Elle said, piling the bags into several already overstuffed suitcases and then sitting on one to attempt to zip it. “They are filled with things for Jonah and Lizzie. We should be grateful that this crowd watches shopping channels and bought vacuum bags. Otherwise, we would have three times this much.”
    Getting out of the police station had done a world of good for her. She was still freaked out, but at least now she could breathe and think more clearly. And she had things to do. She did much better with things to do.
    Marcel, one of the Eternal Sun instructors, knocked on the door. “Sweetheart, they’re waiting for you. You coming?”
    Elle smiled. “I’ll be there in five.” At Jack’s fulminating glare, Elle explained after Marcel left, “Zumba class for seniors. Just half an hour and we’ll be done.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest. “We do not have time for Zumba classes.”
    “Too bad, because I promised.”
    “Don’t give a shit.”
    Elle inhaled deeply. She wanted to disappear from Florida too, but she wasn’t going to let Mullen, Maldonado, or Jack mess her life up more than they already had. But picking a fight with The Borg wouldn’t improve matters. “It’s just half an hour. You heard what Hensen said. Maldonado is not in the US, and even if he was, I doubt he would have any business in a senior community, watching grannies dance.”
    “Unnecessary risks are not acceptable.”
    She looked into the ceiling, praying for patience. “Listen, I truly appreciate you getting me out of the police station, don’t misunderstand me, but don’t you think you’re exaggerating?”
    “No. I told you. It’s me or protective custody. Or jail.”
    “Jeez, can I have a minute to think about it? Because jail isn’t sounding so bad anymore.”
    “Smart-ass,” she thought she heard him grumble.
    She hurried to the common area, where her faithful crowd was already gathered. Violet and Rita were in first row, with Mr. Nicholson standing by his wife, not looking that thrilled. “Okay, folks. Ready to shake it?” she asked, jumping to the stage and then connecting her cell to the sound system. “We’ll start with merengue. Get our hips loose.”
    After that came a little of salsa and a rather mild version of reggaeton.
    She could see Jack glowering at her, losing his patience. Tough shit. She’d promised a senior Zumba class and she wasn’t going to disappoint them. Besides, contrary to popular belief, old people had sharp memories.
    “Now we get a partner,” she said, while Marcel approached.
    Apparently seeing Marcel bumping hips with her was too much for him, because Jack stalked toward her, then suddenly she was airborne and perched over his shoulder; all she could see was Jack’s ass.
    “You are done. I told you we didn’t have time for this,” he growled, compounding the fiasco by slapping her behind while she thrashed.
    As she was being carried away she lifted her gaze in time to see Mr. Nicholson shaking his head at his wife and lifting his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, there’s no way I can do that.”
    * * * *
    “You’re shitting me,” Jack grumbled, glaring at Elle clawing the armrest of her seat on the plane. “You scared of flying?”
    She shook her head. “No.” At his incredulous look she added, “A bit.”
    “A bit?” Her nails were digging into the leather and she looked fucking tense.
    “Okay. A lot. I’m scared shitless about flying.