“You found your sister’s body?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “Yes. In her apartment.”
Sympathy softened his voice. “I’m sorry. That’s rough. What happened next?”
She drew a deep breath. “I called 911. They came and took Mercedes away and I called Ruben.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed him to think that I didn’t suspect him so I could get to Jenna. I knew he had her. There was no sign of Jenna in the apartment and her diaper bag was gone.”
“So you went to Ruben’s house?”
“More like a compound than a house,” she nearly spat, contempt pinching her supple mouth into a hard line. “Ruben lives like a king in the Oakland Hills. He may run East Side but he sure as hell doesn’t live there. I went to get Jenna. Even if he hadn’t killed Mercedes, he isn’t fit to raise a child.”
“Wouldn’t that be for the courts to decide?” he asked, his mind quickly putting together the scenario and not liking the way it ended. She glared and tightened her arms around the baby protectively. He shrugged. “If he’s as bad as you say…”
“He is and worse.”
He let that slide for the moment. “Something tells me he didn’t just hand you his daughter.”
“No.”
“Is that how you got the busted lip?”
She glanced away, self-conscious. “Not exactly.”
“How exactly?”
“One of Ruben’s cousins caught me as I was sneaking out of the nursery. He got in a lucky punch.”
“How’d you manage to get away?” His frown deepened. “If this guy is as dangerous as you say he is, it’s likely his guards are armed. Am I right?”
She drew a shuddering breath and nodded but she didn’t elaborate.
“Marissa…”
A red stain crept up her neck, spilling onto her cheeks and she refused to look at him. Something went down at that compound that she doesn’t want to share, he mused silently, concern and his innate need to know warring with the instinct to give her some money and send her on her way. He didn’t know this Ruben character but he was familiar with the Oaktown Boyz gang—a vicious street gang with ties to the Colombian drug trade, not a bunch of posers trying to look cool. They were the real deal and very dangerous.
“Archer…I’m exhausted,” she said simply and looked to him to answer her unspoken plea. She must’ve known he wouldn’t refuse her shelter, if not his protection, and she was right. He wasn’t about to kick a defenseless woman and child out on the streets when they had nowhere to go, but she had to know also that he would do things his way, not hers.
“You can take the spare bedroom,” he said, “but tomorrow I want the whole story, Marissa, not the Reader’s Digest version or else I place a phone call and the choice is taken out of your hands.”
She hesitated, clearly displeased with the terms of his hospitality but sheer fatigue won out over her stubborn nature and for that he was secretly relieved. Marissa had never been one to capitulate easily, her pride being nearly as strong as her backbone. It’d been one of the things he’d loved about her—but also what had torn them apart. She gathered the baby close and headed for the stairs. As she reached the landing, she offered a stiff, yet grateful “Thank you” and then made her way up to her bedroom.
CHAPTER TWO
MARISSA ROSE EARLY just as she always did before her life took a catastrophic turn for the worse. While the baby still slept, Marissa went into the adjoining bathroom and quickly scrubbed her face and ran her finger over her teeth to freshen up as best as she could.
Her hair, wavy and loose, looked untamed and messy but there was little she could do about that seeing as she’d busted out of Ruben’s place with nothing more than the baby’s diaper bag and a healthy dose of insanity and rage to keep her going. She’d been too afraid to pack anything for fear of Ruben getting suspicious. And she certainly couldn’t go back to her condo because that’s the first place Ruben would’ve sent his thugs looking for her. So, she had nothing in the way of toiletries and the thought of wearing the same pair of underwear for the next couple of days was too gross to contemplate. She’d have to go shopping. Although, if memory served, Emmett’s Mill wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis; she’d be hard-pressed to find much more than the basics at the handful of small boutique-style shops on the main street.
She wandered to the window and peered through the glass to the breaking dawn. The sun crested the horizon in a warm blaze, casting gentle rays of light along the tops of bull and sugar pine trees that dotted the mountainside of the Sierra National Forest, creating an idyllic scene if she were of a mind to appreciate it. But right now her thoughts were crowded with details that she’d rather forget.
White Berber carpeting drenched in a pool of red.
Marissa squeezed her eyes shut for a heartbeat.
Dull, lifeless brown eyes staring at nothing.
A strangled sob erupted from her throat even as she tried to muffle the sound with her knuckles. Dead. Her sister was dead. Damn it, Mercedes.
She wiped at the wet trails leaking from the corners of her eyes and focused on the glistening patches of snow that had clung to the ground in stubborn spots, defying the warmth of the springtime sun. It wouldn’t be long before they completely melted and disappeared. Wiping the last of the moisture from her cheeks, she drew a deep breath and tried to pull what she needed from what little well of strength she had left. Archer was already awake—she’d heard his footfalls on the stairs—and he’d soon want to return to their previous topic of conversation. Whether she wanted to or not.
She checked Jenna, found her to be sleeping still, and then quietly went downstairs.
She was not surprised to see Archer in the kitchen, fully dressed and ready for anything, at 6:00 a.m. That had been one of the things they had in common. They both were ridiculously early risers. She ignored the faint sadness at the memory and gestured toward the coffeepot. “May I?”
“Help yourself,” he said, taking a sip from his own steaming mug as he looked out the wide kitchen window.
It was entirely too strange to be here with Archer under these circumstances when the last time they’d enjoyed the view from the kitchen, they’d spent the morning making love in various and inventive ways. Three years was a long time to go without…She felt heat creeping into her cheeks and she moved away before Archer could read her expression and give her one of his famous narrowed stares that would only make her blush harder. There were things she certainly did not feel like sharing at the moment and that included the details of her sex life. Up until two days ago, Archer had been the last person she’d been intimate with. She liked to tell herself that she just hadn’t found anyone compatible in that way, but you have to date to get to that next level and Marissa had buried herself in work, precluding a social life. “How have you been?” she asked, unable to stomach the silence between them. “You look good.”
He spared her a glance then returned his stare to the view, and she huffed a short breath. “I see. As soon as the baby is awake we’ll be on our way. Thanks for the bed and the pleasant company.”
The last part was probably in bad form seeing as she was the one who’d invaded his space without warning, but she was stung by his open rejection and her verbal filters weren’t functioning quite yet. She’d forgotten how rigid he could be, but it was all coming back to her in a rush of disappointment. When Archer chose to be obstinate, he took it to an art form.
“Marissa, we have to finish our talk from last night, remember?”
She stopped and turned. “The way I see it, we are finished.”
“Well, we’re not,” he said, stalking past her to the living room, expecting her to follow. She was half-tempted to charge right up the stairs just to give him the message that she didn’t take orders from him and never would, but she didn’t put it past him to throw her over his shoulder and toss her to the sofa if she tried, so she grudgingly followed. He took a seat in an overs
ize recliner that would’ve swallowed her but seemed to fit his frame perfectly and waited for her to sit down across from him. She gave him a cold look but sat without getting too comfortable. The tension between them was heavy enough to choke the oxygen from her lungs. “Baby still asleep?” he asked, throwing her off with his concern.
“Yes. She seems to take after her mom and likes to sleep in,” she said, covering her surprise with a bracing sip of her coffee. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I need to know everything that happened the night you took Jenna. Don’t spare any details.”
“Why?” she asked, hating to even think about that night and the ramifications. “It’s not necessary.”
“Let me be the judge of that. If you want my help, you’re going to be honest with me. I don’t want to be sucker punched by something later.”
It was a fair request. If only the details didn’t make her quake with equal parts revulsion and fear. She bit her lower lip, wondering how this became her life. Three days ago her biggest concern was whether her drug trial was going to be successful; now she was terrified of ending up like her sister and Jenna landing back in her father’s arms. Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. She looked away until she could blink them back.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling in spite of her attempt to keep it level and calm. “I wasn’t thinking. I just came here because I knew that no one in Ruben’s circle would know about you or this place and I figured we’d be safe here but I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. It’s not fair to you and I’m so sorry.”
“You can always count on me, Marissa,” he said roughly, as if it cost him to admit that. “I know you wouldn’t have come if you didn’t think it was your last option but I have to know everything.”
She closed her eyes, blocking out the images that were stuck there. Sordid, disgusting and debasing images jumped to the forefront and she had to choke back a groan.
“What happened, Marissa?”
She looked away. “If I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone else.” His pause made her jerk to face him and her heart squeezed painfully as she assessed him openly. His answer made the difference whether she shared or not. “Are you saying you can’t keep this between us?”
“Depends on what you tell me,” he answered, his tone deceptively mild, yet the burn in his eyes told another story. “I’m a federal agent. I can’t make the rules up as I go along.”
Contempt colored her voice. “Bullshit, that’s exactly what you do in that secret branch you work for. Eyes Only, plausible deniability…I’m not an idiot, Archer.”
“You just kidnapped the daughter of a known drug lord,” he countered, making her see red. It wasn’t as though she had a choice.
“He killed my sister! How could I leave Jenna with him?” Tears filled her eyes again but this time they were caused by rage, not fear or pain. “He’s a bastard who destroys lives. I couldn’t let her grow up with him. Not after what he did to her mother.”
Her outburst didn’t seem to sway him either way. She wiped at the moisture, irritation at his cold nature washing over her. She’d forgotten about that part of his personality, as well. Hell, had she remembered anything about him that was accurate? “You don’t know what it’s been like since Ruben came into our lives. It’s been hell.”
She didn’t want to tell Archer that she’d often felt Ruben’s gaze on her, sliding up and down her body, blatantly resting on her breasts as if it were his right to do so, not even hiding his perusal from the eyes of her sister. Mercedes had tried not to show that it bothered her, hurt her even, but toward the end, it had become unbearable. Marissa’s only escape had been work, the one place Ruben was not allowed access. The day Mercedes had decided to end the relationship, Marissa had nearly cried with joy. Looking back, she realized what fools they’d been to think it would be that easy.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, then clarified. “Physically.”
She resisted the urge to touch her bruised face. Technically, Ruben hadn’t lifted a finger. He had enough people around to do his dirty work. Upstairs the baby whimpered and she shot up. “Jenna’s awake. I have to go get her.”
Without waiting for his permission, she flew up the stairs and cuddled Jenna’s sweet, pudgy body against her own. “Good morning, mija,” she whispered against her niece’s crown and offered a word of gratitude to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, then prepared to return downstairs to the man who would settle for nothing but the truth.
The problem was, the truth was something he was likely to wish he didn’t know. God knows, she wished she could forget.
ARCHER DELIBERATELY KEPT his attention far from Marissa’s retreating backside as she hurried to get the baby. At one time, he’d thought their babies would be the ones she’d be tending but that hadn’t worked out so well. He gulped the rest of his coffee and then stood, unable to sit still any longer. His nerves were drawn tight and he was getting that edge that he always did at the start of an assignment. All that was missing was the actual assignment. And if the doc were to be believed…he was a long way from getting an assignment anytime soon. He swore and absently rubbed at his injury.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”
Marissa’s voice at his back made him turn to face her. He waved away the concern he saw there, uncomfortable with the way it made him want it. “It’s nothing,” he said brusquely. He gestured toward the baby. “Does she need anything?”
She eyed him hesitantly, as if doing an internal question-and-answer session to see how the conversation might turn out in real time, then nodded. “Diapers and milk.”
“Milk I’ve got,” he said. “Diapers I don’t.”
Her full, sensual mouth—he’d never quite forgotten how it felt sliding across his own—twisted in a wry grin. “Well, I’d have been surprised to hear otherwise. Is there a store close by I could go to? I need to pick up a few other things, too, before we take off.”
He ignored the part where she mentioned leaving and grabbed a magnetic notepad from the refrigerator door. She was crazy if she thought he was going to let her leave when there was a murdering drug lord on her back. Plus there was the not-so-small detail that she’d kidnapped a toddler to deal with. It was best to keep her close for the time being. “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”
“I don’t need you to do that,” she protested. “I have money and a car. I just need directions.”
“Marissa…stop being stubborn. You need supplies. I will get them for you. End of story.”
“Is this how it’s going to be?” she demanded. “You giving orders like some drill sergeant? I didn’t come here so you could boss me around. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself—”
“If that were the case you wouldn’t have broken into my house with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the piss and vinegar in your blood,” he cut in, ignoring the flash of wounded pride that followed. He couldn’t afford to be moved by that beautiful face. It was bad enough that she had haunted his dreams and made him a miserable bastard during the day for the past three years. He sure as hell didn’t need to let her get further under his skin. He grabbed his keys and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t leave. I’ll be back in an hour.” He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t take kindly to his instruction.
“I don’t appreciate being told what to do and when to do it. I’m not a child, nor your wife. I can come and go as I see fit.”
True. But he wasn’t going to see her get killed over this mess she’d gotten herself into. That was the last thing he needed on his conscience. He hardened his voice to drive the point home. “You’re on the run with a kid that doesn’t belong to you. All it will take is one phone call and your pretty little ass will be sitting in prison and that baby will return to her father.”
Her eyes watered. “You would do that to me?” her whispered voice cut at him. “You would turn me in?”
“Yes.”
He’d crushed her. He could see it in her face. He looked away so he wouldn’t have to see it anymore. “It’s not going to come to that. You’ll stay because I’m the only one you can trust, Rissa,” he said, his nickname for her flowing from his mouth too naturally for comfort. “Just stay put, will you?” he bit out before slamming the door behind him.
He used the drive to town to place a few phone calls. He needed background information on this Ruben guy. With any luck the man had a record and an active warrant but even as he thought it, he knew his luck wouldn’t be that good. Guys like Ruben slid in and out of bad situations on the power of their own slime and often came out the other side smelling like a rose and looking none the worse for their experience.
“I need a favor,” he said, adjusting his Bluetooth device for a better position in his ear.
“Aren’t you supposed to be resting or something like that?” Rico Harley said drily. “Heard Doc didn’t give you the green light. Tough break. The downtime must be killing you.”
Rico, a fellow special ops agent who was recruited by the FBI at the same time as Archer, was the kind of man who was wicked smart and just a little on the damaged side. Made him perfect for the kind of assignments they were given. Archer also knew that Rico wouldn’t mind doing a little background for him. Rico liked to break the rules even more so than Archer.
“I need you to run a name.”
“Dating again?” Rico returned indolently.
“Cut the crap. This is serious.”
“What’s the name?” Rico said, all business.
“Ruben Ortiz, rumor has it he runs Oaktown Boyz. Name ring any bells?”
“East Side Oakland Oaktown Boyz?”
“The very same.”
“That’s some sick shit. What you into?”
He hesitated then relented. Rico was solid. “Not me. A friend.”
Rico’s bark of laughter made him growl. “Now I know you’re lying. You ain’t got friends.”
Trusting the Bodyguard Page 2
