by Wendy Davy
“You’re so strong. How do I get out of this one?” Cara struggled beneath him, her efforts weakening.
She felt so small and vulnerable, Gage’s fear for her safety rose to alarming levels. What if Mercado or one of his men had her in this position? He ground his teeth as he steeled his softening heart. “I’ll tell you, but it’s going to go against every natural instinct you’ve got.”
****
Cara lay beneath Gage, willing to try anything to escape. “I know you won’t hurt me, and that’s the only reason I’m not panicking right now.”
“You’re right. I won’t hurt you. But, there are men out there that would. Your objective is to not give them the opportunity.”
“What’s the trick? I’m not strong enough to fight you off.”
“True. But, you are smart enough. You need to struggle against your attacker until he thinks you’ve exhausted yourself.”
“Then what?” She squirmed beneath him.
“Tell him you’ve given up. Tell him he can have what he wants. Beg for him not to hurt you.”
Every fiber of Cara’s body rallied against Gage’s instructions. “You’re right. That goes against every instinct I have.”
“Make him believe it, and he will eventually loosen his hold so he can do what he wants with you. As soon as he lifts his body, wiggle your hips free and back away. Kick him, and then run.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Try it with me. Make me believe you’ve given up.” His words were smooth and reassuring.
Cara gathered her courage, and then spoke the foreign words. “You’re too strong. I…I give up.” Anxious to end this session, she arched her back and strained against his weight.
“You’re still fighting against me.”
She went still. “Good point.”
He dipped his head and lowered his voice. “Now, make me believe it.”
In a real situation, she’d never give up fighting for her life. Could she convince an attacker her words were genuine? Forcing her entire body to relax, Cara practiced going limp. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do what you want.”
Moment’s passed as Gage remained pressed against her; hard muscle against soft flesh, warm breath touching her already heated skin. He finally lifted his head, and then slowly released her arms as he rose to straddle her.
This is what he’d been talking about; this tiny fraction of time where he’d have to move slightly away to accomplish his goal. She levered herself up on her elbows and shoved backward, wiggling her hips until she was free.
She scrambled onto her feet and attempted to escape, but Gage snaked an arm around her waist, hauling her back up against his chest. “Next time, don’t forget to get in a kick or two. Do something to slow him down before you try to run.”
Mentally and physically exhausted, Cara leaned into his embrace. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“I think we’ve done enough for tonight.” He softened his tone and his grip. “This couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“You didn’t hurt me. Just scared me a little. I didn’t expect…all of that.”
“Sorry.” He eased away his arm. “I wanted to keep it as realistic as possible.”
“Don’t apologize. It was necessary.” Cara turned to face him. “About this last move, what makes you think Mercado or his men would even attempt an assault if they want to kill me? Why not just shoot me?”
Gage dragged a hand down his face and his lips tightened into a thin line. “I’ve spent many hours inside Mercado’s compound. I’ve seen how he operates. He thrives on power and control. A bullet is too impersonal for him. The men he employs operate in much the same manner.”
Cara began shaking from the inside out. “Sounds like they actually enjoy hurting people. And, my brother’s heading back into Mercado’s hands.”
Gage checked his watch and cleared his throat. “He’s probably already there.”
Her legs weakened, and she sat on a weight bench. “You said before that Jonas was going back because there wasn’t time to get anyone else to replace him. Which may be true, but I still think there’s another reason, and I think you know what it is.”
Gage maintained eye contact as he settled beside her. His large frame took up the remaining bench space, leaving his warm thigh pressed against hers. “You’re shaking.” He draped an arm across her shoulders.
After his crash course on self-defense moves, she’d more than gotten used to his touch, and she welcomed his reassuring strength. “Why did Jonas insist on going back in?” She tucked herself further into his embrace.
“You are tenacious.” Gage grinned and gently tugged her. “I like that about you.”
His flash of white teeth came close to disarming her, but it wasn’t quite enough to derail her thoughts. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Now about that reason?”
Something shifted beneath his expression, and his voice lowered. “Remember I told you I gave up my cover to protect an informant?”
Cara nodded. “I remember.”
“Well, Jonas is going back to protect that same woman.”
Stunned, Cara could only stare. “A woman? Who?”
“Mercado’s wife.”
“Why does she need protecting? Why does Jonas have to be the one to do it?” Cara braced herself for the answer.
“Jonas feels responsible for her. He convinced Eve to help us take down Mercado. If Mercado finds out Eve has been helping us...”
Gage didn’t have to finish his sentence for Cara to guess what would happen. “I don’t understand. Why would Mercado’s wife agree to help DEA agents?”
“She didn’t know what kind of man Mercado was when she married him. Jonas promised her a way out. She helps us. Mercado goes to prison. We get her to the U.S. with a new identity, and full custody of her son.”
“She’s not part of Mercado’s drug business?”
“No. She’s been investigated and cleared. If anything, she’s an innocent victim.”
“I…I can’t imagine.” Cara’s heart went out to the unsuspecting woman. She’d dated some creeps in her day, including the one who’d dumped her by text message, but that was trivial compared to what Eve must be going through.
Another set of shakes encompassed her body, and Gage eased his warm palm over her arm. “Jonas will do his best to protect her.” He touched a finger to her chin and brought her gaze to his. “And, I’ll do my best to protect you.” His features, inches from hers, spoke of a willingness to do just that.
“Why?” She blurted out the question. Was he willing to protect her only out of a sense of duty, or had it become something more personal? Afraid of the answer, she quickly retracted it. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes. It does.” Gage cupped a hand on her chin. “If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have asked.” His voice lowered, and his gaze travelled to her lips.
Cara stilled, and adrenaline surged through her. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to experience the real Gage McKenna—the man beneath the rugged exterior. She closed her eyes as anticipation rose within.
His thumb caressed her cheek as he leaned close, and pressed his lips to her…forehead.
Not exactly what she was hoping for, and she couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You missed.” She peeked at him through her lashes. “My lips are further down.”
His turquoise eyes had darkened as a mix of emotions swirled beneath. “I don’t start things I can’t finish.”
“It’s just a kiss.” Even as she spoke the words, she knew connecting with Gage on any kind of intimate level would lead to more than a simple physical contact. Her heart would become involved, if it hadn’t already.
“I think you know better than that.” He dropped his hand, taking his warmth with it. “Besides, I’m not someone you want to become involved with.” He shifted and absently rubbed his injured leg.
“I can decide that for myself.” She gently placed her hand on his,
stilling his movement. “You are no less of a man because of your injury.”
Stark pain erupted in his eyes, as if she’d ignited a molten volcano. Her lingering hopes of experiencing his kiss tonight disintegrated as he grabbed his cane and headed for the door. “I’ve got some things to take care of at the house. Feel free to stay and use the exercise equipment if you’d like.”
Exercise couldn’t cure the ache stirring inside, but a brisk walk would relieve some built up tension. “I am tired, but I could use the treadmill for a while.” Maybe then she could manage to sleep tonight.
He gestured to a small white box on the wall. “I won’t be far away. The old intercom system still works. Just press the button if you need something. It broadcasts throughout the house and garage.”
“I’m used to being alone. I’ll be fine.”
His gaze skimmed over her. “You’re not alone.” His tone held a deep promise. “Never forget that.”
15
Cara wanted to believe Gage’s statement held some meaning in his own life.
You’re not alone.
Did he know he wasn’t alone either? Did he realize God had never left his side? Gage clearly had some uncertainties about his faith. He had questions only God had the answers to.
Lord, help Gage turn to You and lean on You for support. Only You know what’s buried deep in his heart. Something tells me he wants more out of life, and he’s hurting. Give him the purpose he seeks. Give him a reason to want to fully heal.
Cara stepped onto the treadmill and pressed the start button, mulling over the various emotions she’d experienced since entering the gym. She’d been frightened, empowered, elated, and then disappointed all in a matter of minutes, all because of Gage.
The emotional roller coaster made no sense. She was far too down-to-earth and definitely too level-headed to get all topsy-turvy because of a man.
Wasn’t she?
She shook her head and notched up the treadmill’s speed. She had better things to worry about than how Gage made her feel. She had a criminal to evade and a life to return to in Baltimore. So what if her routine life was a little boring and nothing exciting ever happened?
Suddenly, returning to her ordinary daily grind didn’t sound so great—especially if Gage wasn’t a part of it.
Lord, what is happening to me?
Cara pounded the miles away as if she could outdistance herself from her fears and everything else bubbling inside. Her endorphins woke up and began to work their magic. By the time she hit the three mile mark, the tension had eased from her body and sweat trickled down her back and chest. All she needed now was a cold shower and a solid night’s sleep. With that plan in mind, she switched off the treadmill’s power.
The room grew deathly silent, and with no distractions remaining, her thoughts returned to Mercado. He was out there somewhere, and he wanted her dead. Goose bumps circled her arms, and she suddenly needed to hear Gage’s reassuring voice.
She darted across the room and pressed the intercom’s call button. “Gage?” A few sputters of static filled the room and she feared he hadn’t heard her. She punched the button again. “Are you there?”
“I’m here. Are you OK?”
I am now. She could breathe again. “Yeah. I just needed…” You.
Cara fidgeted. She couldn’t admit that. Not after the awkward kissing-of-the-forehead episode. Did she really think he hadn’t known where to find her lips? Her face flamed hot at the memory.
“Cara? What’s wrong?” An urgency entered his voice. “I’ll be right there.”
She imagined Gage snatching up his cane and maneuvering all the way out here to find her perfectly safe. “No, wait.”
“What is it?” His voice rose as if his stress level mounted.
She squeezed her eyes shut and placed her forehead against the cool wall. “I just needed to hear your voice.” There. She’d said it. Let him think what he wanted.
Silence ensued. Then, his reflective tone came through the old wiring system as it crackled and popped. “I don’t even remember the last time someone said that to me.”
With those heartrending words, Gage claimed a little more of her soul. “I’m finished. I’m heading back.”
“I’ll be here.”
A tingle of anticipation electrified her nerves as she locked up and hurried to the house. Outside, the moonlight reflected over the ocean and a soft breeze carried the scents of sand, earth and sea across the land. The romantic atmosphere had her wishing there could be more between her and Gage. Perhaps there could be. If she’d touched him on some primal level by needing him, maybe there was hope.
Her fanciful expectations were doused when she walked inside and Gage wasn’t in the living room or in the kitchen. No lingering scents of dinner greeted her, only quiet stillness.
“Gage?” She walked to his bedroom, and peeked into his opened door. A table lamp illuminated his paper strewn desk, but he wasn’t sitting in the chair. Neither was he in bed. The masculine room stood empty. Her nerves kicked in. She’d just spoken with him. He couldn’t have gone far. Unless…
A loud bump sounded from upstairs, and her imagination took her on a terrifying, vivid ride. Had Mercado somehow found their hiding place? “Gage!”
“I’m up here.” His muffled voice drifted down the stairway. “In your bedroom.”
Relief and curiosity struck her at once. She bounded upstairs and halted in the doorway. Gage stood inside, taking up most of the available floor space as he balanced a twin mattress in his arms.
“What are you doing?” She stared at the empty metal frame on the bottom of the bunk, where she expected to sleep tonight.
“I’m fixing a problem.” He sidestepped her and took the mattress from the room.
“You’re making me sleep on the floor?” She called over her shoulder.
Gage returned and gave her an incredulous look. “I’m switching out your mattress with a pillow-topped one from the other room.” When her mouth dropped open, he added, “You said that one was uncomfortable, right?”
As she recalled, she’d been complaining about his less than perfect manners when she’d mentioned the bed. “Uh…yeah. But, I didn’t think you cared.”
“At that particular moment, I didn’t care.” He brought in the softer mattress, settled it onto the frame and began remaking the bed. “But things have changed.”
A warm tingling crept up Cara’s insides. Their relationship had transformed into something personal. Perhaps that kiss on the forehead meant more than she’d first assumed.
Gage continued working in precise, well-practiced moves. When he finished, not a wrinkle remained on the sheets, blanket or pillowcase.
“You’ve had military training?”
“Not firsthand. My father was a Marine. He taught me about all the things that matter most. Discipline. Honor. Integrity.” His lips quirked. “How to make up beds.”
Intrigued, Cara delved a little deeper. “Did you travel a lot growing up?”
“We spent a couple of years in Germany. I started high school in Italy and graduated in Alaska.”
“How did you end up in Virginia?”
“Dad was stationed in Norfolk for a while, which is only a few hours from here. We visited the Eastern Shore, and I fell in love.”
Cara swallowed, hard. “W-with the woman you told me about?” For some odd reason, she didn’t like the idea of his ex being in close proximity. Worse than that, a stab of jealousy struck her.
His grin surfaced. “No. With the landscape. There’s no other place like it.”
More relieved than she had a right to be, Cara redirected the conversation. “You’ve seen so many places and done so many things. I grew up in one place. Still live there. You make my life seem so …ordinary.”
“I suppose your impromptu trip to Colombia was your first great adventure?”
“That was the plan.” Cara dipped her head and studied her shoes. “Didn’t turn out so great.”
> Gage leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his ankles. The gesture brought his body close to hers. So close, she had to look up to meet his eyes when he spoke. “Why did you go?”
“To help Jonas with his humanitarian efforts.”
Gage’s brows rose. “That’s what you said before. Now tell me why you really got on that airplane.”
Cara started. “What do you mean?”
“There are tons of ways of helping people in Baltimore. Homeless shelters. Food banks. They all need volunteers. Why did you follow Jonas to another continent?” Gage looked at her as if he could see something inside her she hadn’t seen herself.
Cara thought her motives were clear, but now she wasn’t so sure. Why had she gone to such trouble and expense to follow Jonas?
“Aren’t you satisfied with your own life?”
With those few gently spoken words, the answer stood out clear as polished sea glass. “I guess I wanted to be more like my brother and do something important with my life.”
“Ahh.”
“All right.” She held up hands. “What are you getting at?”
Gage took up her palms in his. “God created you the way you are for a reason. He wants you to be you. Not your brother. He has a specific purpose for your life. How can that be fulfilled if you’re busy trying to be someone else?”
16
Cartagena, Columbia
Clouds passed overhead, threatening an early morning rain shower as Alejandro sat by the poolside sipping freshly squeezed orange juice. He forced his muscles to relax, and worked to maintain a calm appearance as he waited for the courier to arrive with the airport’s security video. Time was running out. The meeting in New York was set. He had to be there.
“Buenos Dias, Alejandro.” Eve’s soft voice sounded from behind.
As usual, she waited for him to flick his fingers, an indication she was allowed to approach. He gave her the signal, and she padded in bare feet to stand before him. Her long hair flowed across her shoulders and down her back in waves. If not for the fear beneath her violet eyes, she would have looked as exquisite as the day he’d met her in New York.
