Ripped Apart

by Miriam Minger

  She didn’t want to see the sky. She didn’t want to see the water. She didn’t want to think or feel or cry or scream. She simply wanted to close her eyes and allow the blackness of sleep to wash over her. Please, if she only could fall asleep…

  * * *

  “Tyler!”

  Clare ran wildly down the corridor after a little blond boy who sped around a corner ahead of her.

  Why was he running from her? She called out to him again, her throat raw and burning from crying his name. She ran faster and turned the corner only to find a hallway so long stretching out in front of her, she could barely see him.

  “Tyler, it’s Mommy! Tyler, wait!”

  He stopped and turned around, stretching out his arms to her. She stretched hers out to reach him but he was still so far away.

  She stumbled but somehow kept running, her lungs on fire, her leg muscles throbbing, her labored breathing a roaring in her ears. She was so close to him now she could see his face, so pale—too pale, and the tears swimming in his eyes as he opened his mouth to scream at the same moment someone grabbed her shoulder. She screamed, too, flailing her arms and fighting, fighting—

  “Clare, it’s me. Wake up—it’s Jake.”

  She blinked, the overhead lamp hurting her eyes. Her shoulders were pressed to the bed so she couldn’t move, couldn’t fight.

  “You were dreaming. Easy. I heard you from my cabin, calling for Tyler—”

  “Tyler!” Clare shoved away Jake’s hands and sat bolt upright to scan the cabin for her son as full consciousness crashed in around her.

  She blinked again, looking up to meet Jake’s eyes and then once more gazing around her. The dream was so real to her she still saw Tyler in her mind’s eye with his arms reaching out for her. She’d been so close to touching him, so close to holding him again…

  “He was crying,” she whispered. She shut her eyes as if she could somehow conjure her son again. “I was almost there. I almost had him in my arms and then he screamed…”

  Something warm rolled down her face and Clare reached up to brush away tears but Jake’s thumb found them first. His touch was gentle as he traced a feather light trail along the curve of her cheek.

  “Sounds like a nightmare. It’s a good thing you woke up.“

  “You think this is any better than a nightmare?” Clare shoved away Jake’s hand and moved to the edge of the bed where she stood up to face him. “Get out of my cabin. I don’t want you here. If I had my choice I wouldn’t speak to you or see you again but that will have to wait until we get back to Texas. Now get out!”

  There, she’d said it. Clare’s hands balled into fists. Her fingernails dug into her palms, the storm raging inside her so intense she doubted she would be able to hold back much longer. Damn him, why wasn’t he moving? Why was he just standing there staring at her?

  “Didn’t you hear me? Get out and take your bullshit hero-to-the-rescue act with you.” Clare moved to the door and threw it open, gesturing to the way out with a dramatic flourish of her arm. “Worthy of an Oscar nomination, but you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t applaud. I’d sooner throw up—”

  “Don’t see how. You haven’t eaten anything.”

  “I said get out.” Clare shook to her toes. She’d grown so livid it was hard to speak, her teeth clenched together. If Jake didn’t look so serious, she’d swear he was making fun of her. She couldn’t believe it when he sighed and then sat down on the bed, clearly in no hurry to honor her demand.

  “Shut the door. Most of the crew’s trying to get some sleep—if you haven’t already woken them up with your shouting.”

  “Sleep?” Clare glanced in surprise at the porthole, realizing for the first time that it was pitch dark outside. “How long have I—?”

  “Sixteen hours. It’s ten o’clock. I was thinking about checking on you when I heard you calling for Tyler. Almost wish now I’d stayed in my cabin.”

  “I wish you had, too.” Clare made no move to close the door but turned around, deciding if Jake wasn’t going to leave then she’d go elsewhere.

  She didn’t get far. She had barely taken a step when Jake grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the middle of the cabin. He shut the door and then stood in front of it to block any further attempts.

  “Okay, let’s have it out. Something’s been eating at you since Iglesia San Jose—”

  “Really?” she cut in bitterly. She brushed past him and went to the porthole, anything to put a few feet of space between them. “I would have thought you had too much on your mind—like who killed your wife, to consider what was going on with anybody else. That’s what you came to Mexico to find out, isn’t it? Not to help me, not to help Tyler.“

  “You’ve got it wrong, Clare.”

  Clare couldn’t breathe, the long pent up emotion making her want to scream. She heard Jake take a step toward her.

  “Ignoring me isn’t going to make this go away. I said you’re wrong—”

  ”Am I?” She spun around, daring him to refute to her face what they both knew was a lie. She’d never felt such anger. “You knew you could use me as bait to find out what happened to your wife the moment that hit man told you Ruiz wanted me dead, didn’t you?”

  Jake said nothing. His eyes darkened to an even more intense blue as he stared back at her, and she knew she’d hit dead center on the truth. God help her, she was right.

  “You bastard. You made it seem like you were going to help me bring my son home but that was never your intent at all.“

  “Are you finished?”

  His emotionless voice cut her, making her wonder if she’d left one monster behind in Monterrey only to be facing down another. “Finished? I’ve hardly begun. Your wife’s murderer was driving your agenda, not me, not Tyler. You told me the police couldn’t help me, the FBI couldn’t help me, the Texas Rangers—”

  “You’d be dead by now if you’d gone back to the police—to any of those agencies. You’re still breathing because you’ve been a moving target and next to impossible for Ruiz’s people to track.”

  “Until you wanted them to find me. Until you’d made some sort of deal that left me wide open once you got the only thing you wanted—the name of your wife’s murderer.“

  “What the hell are you talking about? Dammit, Clare, listen to yourself, you’re not making sense. Sure, okay, I thought about using you to get some information but not to trade you over to Ruiz. We both went after Tyler at the hospital. Remember? We were close to rescuing him, too, except I trusted the wrong guy to help us out—trusted the wrong fucking guy for years.”

  Jake looked as livid now as Clare felt and she tried to take a step backward but there was nowhere to go. She stood against the porthole. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin.

  “You went to the hospital to kill Eduardo Ruiz, not for Tyler. Another one of your lies—”

  “I went there for all of it, okay? For Isabella, for Tyler and for you, Clare, for you. Except Ruiz wasn’t the one who murdered my wife and that’s why I had to get you the hell out of Monterrey. Do you think Mike’s stopped looking for you? For twenty million dollars I wouldn’t stop looking for you either—”

  “Oh, no.” Jake’s words made Clare’s heart stop. Why hadn’t she thought he might want the money, too? She glanced from Jake to the door. Panic gripped her, her throat tight with terror. She bolted and knocked straight into him, throwing him off balance onto the bed.

  All she focused on was the door, her only route for escape. She hit it hard with her left shoulder and clawed at the latch. The door opened and she lunged forward, but her sore knee hit the jamb and she doubled over in pain. She heard a low curse and the door shutting, and then she was lifted off her feet and carried to the bed.

  “God, woman, you don’t know me at all.”

  Clare was lowered onto the mattress, her knee throbbing so badly that she reached down to rub away some of the pain but Jake’s hands were already there.

  “Easy, easy, it’
s probably still swollen from before.”

  He bent over her and rolled up her right pant’s leg to above her knee. After a brief inspection, he met her eyes and Clare was startled to see a trace of humor in his gaze.

  “Looks like damaged goods to me. I’d say nineteen million, maybe eighteen. What do you think?”

  His expression was sober as he mimicked her jaw dropping, which made Clare quickly shut her mouth.

  She was stunned again, though, when he grabbed her by the front of her jacket, pulling her toward him. Any humor had vanished, Jake’s gaze hard and penetrating.

  “Know this about me, Clare. If I’d wanted that money you’d be dead by now, or worse. Reed would have you either way to do whatever he wanted with you, but he doesn’t have you. You’re with me and it’s going to stay that way until I know you’re safe. No one’s going to harm you on my watch, do you understand?”

  She nodded, wanting so desperately to believe him.

  “We’ll be in Matamoros by morning. If we’re lucky and Cesar keeps his word about remaining in Tampico for the rest of the week, we won’t find a nasty welcome committee waiting for us once we get off this damned boat. I didn’t want to tell you, but when we flew over the orphanage there were trucks down there, soldiers—”

  “Father Gregorio.”

  “I know. If Reed hurt him or anyone else…” Jake fell silent and released her, once more focusing on her knee. His hands were as gentle as when he’d touched her cheek moments ago, but she refused to be lulled by this other side of him.

  What did her safety matter when Tyler might still be in Mexico? Her dream had been so vivid. He’d been crying and then he had screamed. She knew how frightened he must be as surely as she felt her heart beating, though she had no idea where Eduardo Ruiz might have taken him.

  “What about my son? What’s going to happen to Tyler?” The words died on her lips as Jake met her eyes. He said nothing, making the tension tightening her throat only worse. She saw no answer there where always before Jake’s eyes had held some shred of hope. No answer!

  “Clare…”

  “No, get away from me. Don’t touch me.” She backed away from him and threw her legs over the side of the bed, rising to her feet in spite of the pain that shot through her knee. Jake had risen, too, but she was so overcome the cabin spun around her. “I’ve lost him. I’ve lost my son–”

  “Clare, listen to me.“

  “No, no more listening!” She grabbed for a wall to steady herself but she caught only air. Her legs buckled. Grief unlike anything she’d known ripped through her. She thought of no other relief than crumpling to the floor but Jake caught her by the shoulders and shook her.

  “Clare, I don’t know what to tell you right now, okay? But I’m not giving up on Tyler.”

  “Liar.” She swung at him and he didn’t dodge the blow, her doubled fist hitting him in the jaw. She heard his sharp intake of breath and she swung again but he caught her arm and forced it behind her back. He pulled her against him even though she continued to struggle.

  “Clare—”

  “Liar! You knew we never had any chance to rescue Tyler.”

  “Dammit, woman, there’s always been a chance. Do you hear me? If you could speak to him right now, what would you tell him? That you’re giving up trying to find him? That you never expect to see him again? Never read to him or sing to him or laugh with him again?”

  He shook her again to emphasize his words and Clare finally went still in his arms, her head against his shoulder, his words echoing in her ears.

  “Look at me, Clare.”

  The fierceness in his voice made her raise her head to meet his eyes.

  “I don’t have all the answers right now, but there’s always been a chance to get Tyler back. We won’t give up. Hate me if you want to for using you, for not being straight with you, for screwing things up in Monterrey—”

  “You didn’t screw things up.“

  “Close enough. If I’d never spoken to Mike we might have had a better chance…”

  Clare saw a shadow pass over Jake’s face. She didn’t know why, but she lifted her hand to the place where she’d struck him, her fingertips tracing the hard plane of his jaw. “I’m sorry I punched you.”

  “That’s twice now. You’ve got a mean right hook on you. Maybe someday I’ll learn to duck.”

  She would have thought from his words she’d find the same trace of humor in his eyes but there was none. His expression was deadly serious.

  “I blame myself for a lot of things already. Don’t make it worse for me, Clare. Don’t give up on finding your son.”

  She couldn’t answer, emotion overwhelming her, but she somehow managed to shake her head no.

  “Good.” He didn’t release her but pulled her closer and Clare returned his embrace, her arms winding around him to hold him tight.

  He hadn’t hugged her since the airport in Tampico, but then they had been acting out a charade and both of them knew it. Clare couldn’t deny that this time Jake’s arms tightening around her felt different, almost punishing as if he didn’t want to let her go.

  She didn’t want to let him go either. At any other time since they’d been together that realization would have shocked her. Now she wanted him to hold her as if the strength of his embrace would make her believe even more that one day soon she might see Tyler again.

  We won’t give up.

  Jake had said those words and she believed them. She had to believe them.

  She buried her face in his shoulder and felt the beat of his heart against her ear, strong and steady, just as she had once trusted him to be—just as she needed so badly to trust him now. She lifted her face to him and pressed her body closer, so close she felt his heartbeat jump against her breast and pound faster.

  “Jake, I’ve never hated you.”

  “You’ve come close enough.” His voice was low and husky although his expression was still somber. “It might be a good thing for you to hate someone. I’ve seen what you can do when you’re afraid. If hating me will help you, too, I volunteer—”

  “No.” Clare pressed her fingertips to his lips to silence him. “I don’t want to hate you.”

  He didn’t move, and she didn’t either as her words hung in the air like a charged current between them.

  Instead they held each other, breathed together. Clare was uncertain if she felt flushed and warm to her toes from spent emotion or that Jake had lowered his head to kiss her. His lips moved over hers and any memory of the charade they’d played before flew out the window.

  This kiss was real. Clare kissing him back was real.

  His tongue touched hers and delved deeper, making her sigh against his mouth and press her fingers into his back.

  She wanted him. She wanted this. His hands moved inside her jacket and underneath her T-shirt to touch her bare skin and encircle her waist to draw her closer. The heat of him, the hardness of his body made her tremble as he lifted his head to look into her eyes.

  “I don’t want you to hate me either. Far from it. C’mon, Clare Carson, let’s get you off that sore knee. There’s a whole lot more I want to know about you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jake lightly caressed the graceful curve of Clare’s neck.

  He wasn’t surprised she still slept. He’d slept hard, too. They had worn each other out sexually—but that hadn’t surprised him either.

  He traced a feather light path from her forehead to her chin, her profile classically feminine but with unmistakable strength, just like the woman he’d come to know. He must have tickled her because she wrinkled her nose, but her breathing remained soft and steady as she slept.

  Good. He wanted her to get as much rest as possible. He had no idea what the day ahead would bring them.

  The sky was lightening already as dawn approached. He’d heard the crew stirring an hour ago, and he’d thought to get up many times but he’d been more drawn to stay in bed with Clare. He brought himse
lf up higher on his elbow and drew the blanket more snugly around her shoulders.

  He didn’t regret what had happened between them. He’d had a sense the first time he had kissed her that things might take such a turn, but what the hell. He was in as deep as any man could get, but he’d meant what he said to her.

  Somehow they were going to find Tyler, no matter how long it took. The only trick was both of them staying alive.

  Jake held his breath as Clare’s eyelids fluttered.

  He must have woken her by messing with the blanket but she sighed and rolled over onto her side, presenting him with an enticing glimpse of her bottom before the covers settled over them. The bed was too small but he liked it that way, the narrow mattress keeping their bodies close together—right where he wanted to be. The pungent smell of sex hung in the air but he liked that, too.

  He’d liked it all, kissing her, touching her, the way she tasted, the incredible way she moved her hips when he was deep inside her—oh, man. He could go on and on, but he liked the most the way she had the guts to tell him exactly what was on her mind. He’d sensed since leaving Iglesia San Jose it was only a matter of time before she blew up in his face.

  It hadn’t been a stretch to guess what she might have to say to him, but he couldn’t blame her. Clare had been as brave and resolute as anyone could be given the circumstances but everyone had a breaking point and she’d finally reached hers. She wasn’t giving up, though—damn, he admired her spirit.

  Jake lowered his head to the pillow and kissed the silky nape of her neck. He reached around her to draw her more snugly against him as he breathed in the warm scent of her skin.

  He couldn’t deny it. He hadn’t felt so attracted to a woman since Isabella, but that didn’t bother him either.

  He’d never been one to think too far ahead and he wasn’t about to start this morning. He had two paramount things on his mind—staying alive to see the next morning and finding Tyler. Nothing much else mattered, not for now anyway.