by S. M. Butler
“Was it what you expected?” he asked, giving her cheek a scrape of his bristly one.
Was he looking for praise? He’d certainly earned it. But she felt a little shy about admitting that he’d completely rocked her world. Instead, she said, “I liked it.”
An eyebrow arched.
“Did…you like it?” she asked, glancing down because she didn’t want him to see the humor in her eyes.
A grunt shook against her chest. He pulled free, but instead of leaving the bed, he lay down on his side and opened his arms.
She snuggled eagerly against him.
“You were beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her hair.
A smile stretched across her face, she leaned back her head to meet his narrowed gaze. “Jackson, you blew my mind.”
His laughter was quick and sharp, and then he hugged her closer.
“Fucking you should be an Olympic sport,” she said, yawning.
“Wore you out, did I?”
She tweaked his nipple. “Okay, you’ve earned the right to crow.” She rested against him, smiling, feeling warm and loving the fact she’d chosen the right guy.
“Our company’s headquartered in Dallas.”
He said it so quietly she might have missed it, because she was just on the verge of sleep. She glanced up, studying his face. It was set again. Impossible to read. “That’s not too far from me.”
His eyes smiled. “Get some sleep.”
In the early morning hours, a knock sounded on the door. Jackson knew no one would have woken him if it didn’t have something to do with Guzman.
He rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Suri, put on his shorts, and padded to the door.
Deke grimaced. “Sorry. Be in ops in ten.”
“Something break?”
“We have the son, Alejandro. Team in Cancun was watching a friend’s house when he showed up. They’ve got him in a van. They’re half an hour out.”
Jackson closed the door.
“They have Alejandro?” Suri’s sleepy voice came from behind him. She was wearing the pink nightgown.
“He’ll be here in a few.”
“Good.” She sighed. “I was worried about him.”
Jackson didn’t respond. He doubted Alejandro would be as relieved. The son of Diego Guzman wouldn’t be treated as gently as she was. “You’ll have to stay here or be in the rec room. I suggest you stay in bed and get some rest.”
“No way. He’s my friend.”
Jackson gripped her waist and gave her a steady glare. “To the U.S., he’s the son of a narco-terrorist. When we’re through questioning him, we’ll turn him over to the DEA. It’s unlikely they won’t find some charge to hang on him.”
Suri shrugged off his grip and took a step back. “He’s not a bad person. He was just born into a terrible family.”
Jackson held still while her gaze grew more accusatory. What did she expect him to do? Was she really that naïve?
“Jackson, I’m not stupid, I know he’ll be able to help you, but he won’t be eager to do so. If he talks, he won’t ever be safe again. I met his father. He’d kill him in a second if he learns Alejandro betrayed him.”
Junior would talk. Teague would make sure of it. And then Alejandro would be safe in lock-up somewhere.
“Maybe if he was offered a deal. He could start over with a new name.”
“Yeah, he might be offered that—when he gets stateside, and the DEA is certain he shouldn’t be the one doing life. But until then, he’s our prisoner. You don’t go near him.”
Her mouth firmed into a line, and she turned abruptly on her heel. The bedroom door shook in its casing from the strength with which she slammed it. Jackson nearly smiled. “I still have to get dressed.”
A moment later, the door opened, and his clothing sailed out.
“Thanks.” And then he did smile. Suri really was one hot mess when she was riled.
He dressed quickly then walked to ops. Although daybreak, the sky remained dark from thick cloud cover. In the distance came the sound of thunder.
The camp was on high alert. Too much movement had occurred in and out—by air, and now by road—for them to think someone hadn’t alerted the Federales or Guzman’s cartel that something was up.
Still, getting to them wouldn’t be easy, and while the surrounding thick jungle protected them from most attention, the denseness also made it hard for the people inside the camp to detect infiltration. Infrared surveillance by satellite was spotty at best, which was why security was rotated in and out from listening posts around the perimeter of the camp.
Teague was sitting at the monitor when he came in. “Get your gear. Your team’s on the gate.”
From the terse way he spoke, Jackson was pretty sure their interrogator knew Suri and he had shared more than just a mattress. He grabbed a headset, his weapon, and a magazine of ammunition. “Still no sightings of the father?”
“Not a peep.” Teague glanced up. “I’m going to be on Suri’s shit list.”
So that was what was bugging him. “I gave her some warning of what would happen and the fact she needs to stay away from him.”
“Think that will stop her from trying?”
“Nope.”
Teague smiled. “I’ll set an extra guard on her.”
Jackson made his way to the gate. Deke gave him a wave. His team was fanned out. More guards were in the trees on either side of the road.
Deke squinted as he stared down the paved track. “So much attention for that kid. Think he knows where his dad is?”
“No, but he might know how to find him.”
“We could use him as the bait.”
Jackson nodded. “If he’s willing—and if Suri’s right about him not being part of his dad’s organization.”
Deke snorted. “If Alejandro was, he wouldn’t be telling her anyway.”
Two headlights flashed then went out. Since the van had been equipped with military-style blackout lights, only a very dim light could now be detected moving their way.
In his ear, he listened as the guards stationed in the woods radioed in. “Shakey’s at the wheel. Road’s clear behind him.”
The guard watching the gate rolled it back, making an opening wide enough for the van to enter, then rolled it shut again.
Jackson strode behind the van as it parked outside the ops van.
The side door opened. Two men in dark uniforms dropped to the ground then reached to draw out a man wearing handcuffs with a gag around his mouth. He was disheveled and sported a bruise that spread from his cheek to his jaw. His clothing showed tears. Other than the fact his hair was black and his skin the same shade’s as Diego’s, he didn’t favor his father. His build was slim rather than stocky, and his dark eyes showed fear.
Waiting as Alejandro was dragged up the ramp and into ops, Jackson scanned the area. So far, they’d been lucky. Or they hadn’t destroyed or taken anything Diego treasured. The drug lord had been wanted too long to react to every intrusion into his world. Guzman knew, as Jackson and every man on his team did, that all he had to do was stay low and wait them out. Eventually, they’d run out of support for this mission, and the faces of the kids he’d murdered would cease to play on the news stations. They’d be forgotten, and he could conduct business as usual.
But now they had Guzman’s son. He’d either say good riddance, trusting his son was more afraid of his vengeance than jail time, or this could be the trigger that would start the war.
Jackson’s glance panned the buildings, and he caught a movement at the edge of one. A billow of floral fabric from around the corner of one, then a head peered out to watch as Alejandro was pushed inside the building. Jackson shouldered his weapon and firmed his jaw as he stalked toward Suri.
Chapter Seven
‡
Suri’s gaze followed Alejandro until the door of the ops building shut behind him. Anger flushed her skin. They hadn’t been gentle with him, had probably liked roughing him up a
bit to intimidate him.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted movement coming her way and she pulled back, flattening her body against the building she’d hidden behind after she’d climbed out a window of the hut, evading the guard at her front door.
She darted another glance around the corner and squeaked. A pissed-off Jackson was bearing down on her. She turned and fled back to the cabin and the guard whose jaw dropped as she scrambled past him to get to the door.
“Jax, she must have gone through a window,” she heard the guard say, but she didn’t hear Jackson’s response because she slammed the bedroom door and put her back against it. Her heart pounded. Fear quivered through her.
His face as he’d stared had worn that same hard look he’d had when the lights went on in her bedroom at the Guzman compound. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was furious.
The doorknob turned and a shove bounced the door against her back.
“Move away from the door.”
Did she really think she could hold tough against him if he decided to push through it anyway? She turned and walked backward, reminding herself this was the same man who’d craved watching her breasts bounce as they’d fucked. He wasn’t going to hurt her. Or maybe just her bottom. That thought had her lifting her chin.
The door opened and banged against the wall. Jackson’s tall frame filled the space. He lifted a finger and pointed it. “I told you there were only two places you could be today. What were they?”
Suri cleared her throat, hoping when she spoke she wouldn’t squeak again. “Here or the rec room.” She shrugged. “I was headed to the rec room when I saw a car pull up.”
“The rec room is three buildings down, and you did not get lost.”
She couldn’t help that her lower lip pouted. “He’s my friend. I had to see that he was okay.”
“And were you satisfied?”
“Hell, no!”
Jackson stepped deeper into the room. “My orders weren’t given for my own enjoyment. They were to keep you safe. I have to know where you are at every second.”
Suri decided it was best to keep quiet, because he was close enough he could have reached and grabbed her.
His gaze went past her to the open window. He shook his head, before turning it to give her another hard look. “You do know that you were a hair away from that being you—duct tape around your mouth, handcuffed to whatever couldn’t move.”
How she wanted to shout at him. She hadn’t asked for special treatment. She’d told the truth and doing so had freed her. “Alejandro isn’t like his father. He’s scared.”
“Alejandro could have made much better choices. He went to college on his father’s dime, but he could have slipped away when he was done. I think he likes the life. And I’m not so sure he isn’t up to his ears in dirty business.”
He wasn’t changing his mind, no matter how she pleaded. So, she remained silent, waiting until his breaths deepened, and the red hue of his cheeks receded.
He fisted his hands on his hips and stared at the bed.
Was he regretting being with her? That thought made her chest tighten. As mad as she was at him, she still wanted to trust him.
“Suri, come here.”
She dragged her feet as she slowly approached him and stood an arm’s length from his rigid body.
Jackson shot out a hand and gripped her arm. He pulled her nearer and bent his head so that his gaze bored into hers. “I need you to stay put. In this room. You won’t close the door, because the guard will have to keep an eye on you. Do you understand?”
All her anger drained away, and she solemnly nodded. “I’m distracting you. Making you and everyone else less safe.”
His next breath released in a long exhale, and he tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her.
Suri snuggled against his chest and hugged him back. There was a special magic in a shared embrace. As bad as things could get, just breathing in his scent and leaning against his strong body relaxed her. “All right,” she whispered. “I won’t budge. Promise.”
He tugged her hair to tilt her head and kissed her. “When this is over, we’re going to talk.”
From the sound of his deep, graveled tone, she couldn’t wait.
The rain began to fall, when Jackson returned to ops. He entered the interrogation room and leaned against a wall as Teague grilled Alejandro.
Jackson raked the younger man. He was slender, but wiry, not particularly tall. His dark hair was nearly shoulder length and shiny, like he’d combed oil through it. His features were even, maybe some would think he was handsome, but Jackson didn’t like his mouth. Even still, it formed a natural smirk, like he thought he was smarter than everyone else, or he was the only one who understood the joke. Jackson knew with certainty that Alejandro was no innocent. That he’d played Suri.
How could Suri have trusted a sleaze like this? But thinking back over the things she’d told him, he realized that given her background, she’d never had a lot of friends, and probably found it hard to feel comfortable around “normal” people. Alejandro was a pro at manipulation, likely knew just what to say or when to give her space. For someone who hadn’t known friendship, real friendship, she’d been an easy mark.
Teague’s irritation was evident in the tightness of his mouth. Suri’s friend wasn’t giving up much. When he was asked about his relationship to his father, he diverted, talking instead about his time at UT and his relationship with Suri. When he was asked about how the drugs were brought into the U.S., he talked about vacations spent on his father’s yacht.
His hands had been freed, and he lifted them every now and then to gaze at his fingernails, like he had all the time in the world to lead them down the rabbit hole. Something about his wide gaze didn’t feel real. His skin was pale and his hands shook just a little, but there was an energy, a nervous excitement that he exuded.
Something wasn’t right.
Teague aimed a tense glance his way, and Jackson nodded. He let himself out of the room and put on a headset. “Need a headcount on the perimeter.”
Team members stationed around the outside of the fence began to sound off in order of their assigned spots. At post five, there was a long silence. Then, “Post nine, here.”
Jackson grabbed a weapon and stuck his head into the interrogation room. “We have company.”
Alejandro’s mouth curved into a slight smile.
If he’d had the time, Jackson would have lifted him from his chair and slammed him into the wall, but he didn’t.
“I’ll take care of him,” Teague said, “Then I’ll radio for reinforcements.”
Jackson slammed out of the building at a run, keeping his voice calm as he gave orders to the men scrambling around the camp. Everyone had their pre-assigned places in case of an attack. But now they had a hole in their defenses to the north. “Deke, Mac, Jave, we have a breach in the north side of camp.”
“Already there,” Deke said, his voice low. “Don’t see anything yet.”
“Fence is cut,” came Mac’s voice. “Tracks from maybe three men.”
Jave didn’t respond.
The north side fence faced encroaching jungle. A great place to infiltrate once the guards were taken out. Jackson kept on task, skirting buildings with his weapon raised, ready to fire if anyone looked out of place.
As he drew closer to the last buildings near the north fence, he tightened his jaw and went into fight mode. Every sense on alert. He couldn’t let himself think about Suri. She probably had no clue, and when gunfire erupted she’d be scared, but the only way to keep her safe was do his job.
The wind whipped up, lifting the tin roof of the hut and slapping it back down. The sound was like the crack of a rifle. Another clap made her jump, and she edged off the bed. She’d sit with the guard. Maybe he was feeling as edgy as she was and could use the company. But she went to the bathroom first, relieving herself then washing her hands, looking at her face in the mirror and wondering
who that woman was. Since when did Suri McAnnally hang out with ex-SEALs in the middle of a Mexican jungle? Her routine life in Austin felt very far away.
A sound, like scuffing feet sounded from the bedroom, and she frowned, staying silent. Who was there? Did the guard think she’d tried climbing out the window again and come to check on her. She reached for the doorknob, but her hand froze at the loud pops she heard. Two. Just outside her door. Something heavy thudded to the floor.
She wished there was a lock on the bathroom door. Holding the knob wouldn’t stop whoever it was from gaining entrance. She gazed at the tub and quietly walked over to it, stepping inside and easing the moldy white curtain closed before she lay down to hide herself.
The door burst open. A shady figure stepped inside—and reached for the curtain.
Please be Jackson. Please be Jackson. But she recognized the face leering down at her and her muscles tightened. Diego Guzman had come to seek his revenge.
His cold eyes stared down, and he raised a pistol and aimed it at her.
Suri wasn’t about to die like this. Not without a fight. But she needed something to keep him from pulling the trigger. “Wait! I know where Alejandro is.”
“So do I,” he bit out.
“But you won’t get near him. Not without a hostage.”
Guzman’s gaze raked her body. “You that SEAL’s whore now?”
He knew about Jackson? Blood pounded in her ears. That was much more specific than simply assuming she’d received good treatment because she didn’t know a thing about his operation.
The sound of gunfire erupting in the distance told her Guzman had many more men with him.
“You can use me as a shield. You know if they see you in the open, they’ll shoot you dead.”
His cold gaze narrowed. “Get up.”
Moving slowly so she didn’t excite him, she stood.
Guzman gripped her arm hard and pulled her over the edge of the tub. Then he turned her and put an arm around her chest and his pistol against the side of her head. “We go together. You make one move, you even trip, I’ll blow off your head.”
