They'd traveled a short distance when Ty heard faint gunfire. Without thinking, he pushed Ana to the floor of the boat, shielding her. Listening closely, he realized the bullets came from behind them and not in their direction.
Fuck. The village must be under attack.
"We have to go back," he shouted to Jack.
"Can't," Jack yelled as he increased the boat's speed.
The power from the twin diesels thrust Ty against the seat. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed Jack around the neck.
"Turn this fucker around, or I'll throw your ass in the river."
Jack shook his head, and the boat moved farther away from the village. Ty tightened the choke hold. Tossing an FBI agent overboard wasn't the optimum solution, but Santiago and his people needed help. Ty feared they were paying the ultimate price for their kindness.
Ana reached around them both and shoved the throttle downward to idle. Ty's Beretta was in her other hand and aimed at Jack.
"Move him out of the way," she instructed Ty.
He slid the knife from its scabbard and held it to Jack's throat. She stuffed the pistol in her jeans and slid behind the wheel. Braced against the captain's chair, she turned the boat around and increased the speed.
The gunfire grew louder as they cut a path through the water.
"Get close to shore but don't beach her. I'll get out right there." He pointed to a sheltered spot where he could wade to shore and not be seen. She and Jack could go on to Bogota.
She eased back on the throttle, her gaze on his. Fear vibrated from her. "Let me help."
"Then we'll all go," Jack shouted.
No need to argue. She'd just follow him anyway, and besides, she was a hell of a shot.
"When we get to shore, spread out." Ty shrugged off the backpack, held his rifle above his head, and then jumped into the shallow water. Ana and Jack followed.
They hurried to the shore. The sound of decreasing gunfire worried him. They were going to be too late. Once on dry land, he ran toward the village without looking back. His feet pounded the dry surface. He pushed harder, demanding more and more from his legs. Getting closer but not close enough.
People were dying because of him. Again. Did everybody he cared for have to die?
He reached the clearing, stopping to assess the situation. Anger swamped him. Men dressed in the same kind of green uniforms Ortega's guards wore had massacred Santiago's people exactly like the tribe at the waterfall.
Women and children had been cut down. Murdered without reason or conscience. Jesus, Ty's head felt as if it would explode.
Ortega had sent the sons of bitches to find him and Ana. They were about to reach their goal.
Ty stepped into the open and pressed the trigger on the automatic rifle. The bastard standing over Santiago's body went down first. A second fell hard. Ty hit the ground and rolled. Bullets ricocheted off the hard dirt, barely missing him.
A scream ripped through the air. Ty whirled to see a little girl standing next to a body. He rose and scrambled toward her. An explosion in his rib cage sent him staggering backward. From behind, a second fireball hit his upper chest.
He had to reach her. He jumped, landed hard, but pushed her behind him. Using himself as a shield, he took aim. Two waristas fell. Ana and Jack had stuck with him.
His left arm was useless, and his breathing became labored. Ty glanced down at the blood soaking through his shirt. Red gushers had opened up and were running thick and quick. His vision blurred. Shit. His knees buckled. He needed to sit. Was so damn tired.
He glanced toward Ana. Jack Fury's arm was bleeding, but she appeared unharmed. She broke into a run when Ty sank to the ground on his knees.
Damn, dying in front of Ana and this child sucked.
Chapter Seven
Dying seemed to be taking a long time. And what was the deal with the bright light fading in and out? Was there some kind of debate going on as to where his soul should reside? What was up with the angel? She hovered over him, arguing with the devil. A beautiful, winged creature determined to prevent him from entering the gates of hell. The sound of her voice was lyrical and soothing.
A lot like Ana's.
"I'm not leaving," the angel said, pulling Ty further out of the dark abyss. "It's my fault he's here."
"There's nothing you can do for him." The devil's voice sounded like Ty's friend and boss, Nate Wolfe.
"I can read to him. The doctor thinks Ty hearing a familiar voice will help. I'll leave when he wakes."
"You're not safe here. You can choose the DFW area as your destination. If he comes out of this, we'll fly him to Dallas."
Ty pushed back the remnants of the fog trying to engulf him. He opened his eyes to find himself, judging from the white walls, in a hospital. But where? The sign on the wall was in Spanish. Oh, shit. He wasn't stuck between heaven and hell. He was still in Colombia.
If so, what was Nate doing here?
Ty tried to lift his head. The instant fiery pain reminded him he'd been shot. Twice. Pictures of Santiago and his people flashed through his mind. Dear God, out of the many possible pickup points on the river, how had Ortega's men found theirs?
Ana stood toe-to-toe with Nate, looking up at him with the determination of a lioness protecting her cubs. Poor Nate had no idea how much determination lived inside that woman's small frame.
Questions boiled though Ty's mind. Did neither of them realize they were arguing over a person capable of making his own decisions?
"I'll decide where I'm going, and it won't be Texas. Not for a while." Pushing the words out took more effort than Ty had expected. The number of questions he had continued to grow.
"Oh, no, you're not in any condition to make decisions." Nate's harsh words didn't match his tone, which reflected his facial expression of relief. "We're on a plane home as soon as you can travel."
Ana stood to the side. Tears ran down her cheeks. Right off the top of his head, Ty couldn't remember anyone ever crying over him.
"It's about damn time you woke up." Nate seemed to have recovered from his bout of worry.
"Can somebody explain how I got here?"
Ana and Nate exchanged icy glares.
"And why you're here?"
Nate tilted his head in Ana's direction. "She can tell you how. Personally, I thought I was coming to escort your body home."
"Well, I appreciate the effort, but as you can see..."
"Don't joke," Nate snapped. "You almost bought it."
Ana pulled a chair next to the bed, forcing Nate to move back. If she heard his huff of protest, she paid no attention.
Ty could tell the difference between Nate's anger and fear. The panic hidden behind the gruff talk gave him away. Ty had witnessed his friend lose control once before, when he'd thought the woman he loved might be tortured to death.
"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, resting her hand on his arm.
Ty searched the void he used to call a memory. His skin warmed as she stroked him with her fingers.
"Being tired." Pieces of what had happened fell into place. His stomach roiled at the images flashing through his mind. "Jack? The villagers. The girl. What happened to them?"
He couldn't go home. Santiago and his people were dead because of their kindness. Ty had unfinished business to take care of. He remembered bodies strewn about as if they were of no value. The bastards who had cold-bloodedly cut them down without mercy had to pay. Anger rushed through his system. He closed his eyes to block out the memory. A cool palm came to rest on his forehead.
"She's alive. The government is searching for other family members to take her. Jack's left arm was nicked, no problem."
"Tell me the rest. How did I get here?"
"Jack Fury and I brought you."
"Did any of Santiago's people survive besides the girl?" Ty's flesh heated from the inside out. He hated being weak and useless. Lying here in this bed helped no one.
She cleared her throat. Looked ev
erywhere but at him. "We didn't get there in time to help anyone except the girl. My government took care of the burials. They are looking into the slaughter."
"Right," he scoffed.
Tears resurfaced and rushed down her face. "Their deaths are on me. I shouldn't have played with the children."
"No." Ty couldn't allow her to believe such a thing. "I was wrong to think he wouldn't have more than one group looking for us."
"We know Manuel Ortega is to blame. None of what's happened is the fault of either of you." Nate growled his words out. The sound usually frightened other people, but Ty recognized they reflected Nate's underlying fear. "The doctor said ten minutes."
She stood. Leaning close, she smiled, but the sparkle in her eyes Ty had grown to like was gone. "Nate's right. Visiting hours for intensive care are over. We'll talk more later."
ICU? How serious was the injury? Ty opened his mouth to argue but found himself alone. He wanted to talk. But talking made his body hurt and his eyelids heavy.
He needed to know what was being done to stop Ortega. Too bad his body had other plans. He felt himself being sucked into the darkness.
****
"You saw the news?" Manny sank his teeth into the meat of the lemon, sucking the juice into his mouth. He tossed the useless rind on the table and reached for his glass.
"Si, jefe." Carlo Medina sat relaxed in his chair as if he thought Manny wouldn't kill him in public. "It is unfortunate that so many died."
Manny waved a fly away from the table. He cared little about the villagers or his men who'd died tracking the woman. He battled back irritation. Loyalty to this man who'd helped his father teach him the business had worn thin. Maybe age had weakened Carlo's resolve. A few years ago, he'd have stalked the responsible parties to the ends of the earth, leaving a bloody trail of death behind him. Today he made lame excuses.
"You misunderstand. I'd hoped to hear news of Ana Cisneros. Where is she? And where is her protector?" He ran his fingers down the sharp crease on his slacks. "I lost millions of dollars in salable merchandise. If I can't produce, my customers will turn to another supplier. Why do I feel no one understands my need for retribution?"
"You are not alone. It's horrible what happened to your business, jefe." Carlo signaled for the waitress. "Your money has brought reliable information. I have learned that the United States and our government collaborated on the destruction of your compound. The woman fled to America. Names and locations of all involved are coming." His gaze constantly shifted. "Do you still want the woman alive?"
Manny shook his head in disgust. As much as he wanted the pleasure of killing her, he didn't expect the woman to be captured and brought back to Colombia alive. "If you figure a way to lure her back, I will be pleased. If not, I want them both dead."
"Consider it done. I will personally deliver them or bring the ears of the Cisneros woman and her American protector to you."
Carlo smelled of fear, and it pleased Manny. "Make sure you do."
"Hago el voto," Carlo swore vehemently, reverting to his native tongue.
"Don't make vows you can't keep."
****
Thirty years old and Ana Maria Vega Cisneros had no country. Forced to leave Colombia. Expected to turn her back and never return. Her own government didn't want her, fearing the retaliation from the Ortega cartel would continue.
Rumors of a sizable bounty for her life had spread like hot lava rushing down the side of a mountain. Of course, if her leaving saved lives, it was the right thing to do. Didn't make the pain hurt any less. The feeling of loss overwhelmed her. Sickened her soul.
She pressed her cheek against the small window pane, straining to see even a remnant of her native country. Blinking hard to prevent the flood of tears threatening to fall, she stared, frantically taking mental snapshots, as the Airbus continued its ascent.
Next stop, Miami. After that? Would she really wind up in Texas? Who knew? If the American government had a plan, no one had shared it with her.
A hand touched her arm, reminding her that she had an escort.
"You okay?" Jack Fury released his seat belt and leaned closer.
"How would you feel if you could never return to your homeland?" Her words sounded bitter, which suited her fine because they tasted sour.
"Like shit." He nodded, apparently understanding a little of what she was going through.
At least he hadn't lied to her. "I appreciate your honesty."
"I get you're scared. Trust me when I say, you won't be dumped on the curb and forgotten."
The gunshot wound on Jack's arm had required a few stitches. Ana had no doubt he was in pain and was grateful for his help. He'd walked her through filling out the necessary forms for the United States Citizen and Immigration Services. The liaison at the Colombian Embassy had acted as if she should be thrilled, honored that the USCIS had agreed to expedite her paperwork.
Maybe under different circumstances, she'd be happy to live in America, but not like this. She'd stolen out of town under the cover of night as if she were a criminal on the run. Worse yet, her promise of vengeance remained unfulfilled.
Ana glanced toward home once more, but saw nothing but sky out her window. She lowered the shade and turned toward Jack. "How'd you end up babysitting me?"
He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. His long blond hair had been cut into a short military style, making him look older than when he'd worn board shorts and a T-shirt. The navy suit and white shirt he wore made her feel as if she were in custody.
He seemed to be weighing his answer. "I pulled the short straw." He laughed at his own joke. "It was time. My assignment was over."
"Speaking of over, are you still mad I held a gun on you?"
"No, ma'am. You did what you thought was right. Turns out, you were."
He leaned his seat back and closed his sea-blue eyes. How could he sleep when she had so many questions? They'd cut her off from Ty, leaving her to wonder about his condition.
His boss, Nate Wolfe, had assured her Ty would live. But what about his career? Would he recover completely?
The thought she'd never see him again disturbed her and left a hollow feeling in her chest. No doubt, this was a case of old-fashioned hero worship. He'd ruined her plan to kill Ortega, but he'd saved her life more than once. In the few short days they'd spent together, she'd developed a deep respect for him. Feelings inside her stirred just thinking about him. Feelings best forgotten.
Guilt rested on her shoulders, a crushing heavy weight. The loss of innocent lives plagued her. That she'd been responsible for Jack being shot and Ty's brush with death sent her spirits spiraling to an all-time low.
She had no one in America. No friends. No family. She'd emptied her bank account, thrown some clothes into a bag, and had been whisked off to await departure. She hadn't been allowed to tell her adopted mother and father goodbye for fear Ortega had people watching them. Thankfully, the FBI had agreed to move them to a safe house.
Judging by Jack's easy breathing, he'd dozed off. No, thanks. She'd keep her eyes open for the three-hour flight, if just to prevent screaming herself awake.
Loneliness swamped her as she considered her future. She'd felt this lost and alone when her parents had been murdered. The pain had been as unbearable as it was at this moment.
Today, she'd turned her back on their memory and on her promise.
Chapter Eight
Ty pushed himself off the weight bench. Placing the barbells back in their slots, he sucked up the discomfort and walked to where Nate stood watching. There were things Ty needed to be doing and recuperating wasn't one of them.
No more lip service. He wanted facts. "Satisfied? You might as well be, because this dog-and-pony show is over. The doctor released me. That should be enough for you. Three weeks stuck in a Colombian hospital, one here in Dallas and then two in rehab. That's six weeks for two bullet wounds. Give me a break."
"I can count," Nate snapped back. "Those bullets
gave you a collapsed lung and came damn close to leaving you with permanent nerve damage."
"Where's Ana?"
The sides of Nate's mouth curved downward. It was a look Ty was damn tired of seeing. "That badass glare might work on your bride. Not me."
"I have to be sure you can handle yourself in a fight."
"You're getting ready to find out." Ty stretched to his full six-foot-two. "Answer my question."
Nate chuckled, obviously not frightened. "She's here in Texas."
Ty's long nights of worry whooshed from his lungs. "Why so fuckin' secretive?"
"I told you a dozen times she was all right. The last thing you needed was to jump on your white horse and go try to fix things for her."
"Fix what?"
"Nothing. Other than the struggles of trying to start a new life."
"Exactly where is she?"
"Tyrell." Nate waved a hand in the air as if to erase his spoken word. "Sorry. You've been Tyrell to me since college. It's like Kaycie wanting to be called Kay. I may never get used to it."
"Try harder." Ty lowered his tone. "Third time. Where is Ana?"
A need to see her had eaten at his peace of mind since she'd left for the safe house one day and never returned. He didn't analyze the feeling to death. Concern for her was understandable. Hell, they'd been through more in a couple of days than most people experienced in a lifetime.
Damn, she was tough. Forcing Jack Fury to sit in the back of the boat while she'd turned it around and returned them to Santiago's village must've been hard on Fury's ego. By doing so, she'd saved Ty's life. Again. Just as she had at the waterfall. They shared a bond. That's all it was.
He owed her, and he paid his debts.
"She's working at the Hill County Library. Teaches English as a second language. Holly lives in Hill Top now. She's the assistant librarian and was willing to help out."
"Jesus. How is Holly?" Ty scrubbed the towel over his face, mopping sweat and hiding his embarrassment at not asking about her sooner.
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