by Kaylea Cross
Manny scoffed. “Nothing’s ever totally secure. Find Oceane and Anya. Find the lawyer if you have to.”
“Trying. I’ve got eyes and ears all over this city. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Not good enough. I want this dealt with now, do you understand me? Send your best man in to find a lead. Pay whoever will help us, offer whatever it takes. Just take the woman if that’s easiest, find out where my daughter is, and then make our problem disappear. Got it?”
Montoya was quiet a moment. “How much you willing to spend?”
“I told you. Whatever it takes. You understand?” Even if this phone line was secure, he wasn’t going to come right out and say something that might incriminate him later. Montoya knew exactly what he meant.
“Yeah, I understand.” Montoya’s voice held an undercurrent of anticipation. His most lethal sicario, about to have his leash cut and turned loose to do what he loved most.
It was probably going to come back to haunt Manny in the end, but at this point, he was willing to risk it because he didn’t have any other option. He needed this taken care of immediately or risk losing everything.
Once again, letting Montoya do what he loved best was Manny’s best chance of getting what he wanted.
****
Rowan’s new phone rang a little before two that afternoon. She glanced at the screen, couldn’t help but smile when she saw the number on the display. “It’s Malcolm,” she told the male agent, who had stopped reading his newspaper to look at her.
When he nodded his consent, she got up and walked from the kitchen into her new bedroom for the foreseeable future, wanting at least the illusion of privacy.
“Hey,” she answered, relieved that he’d called. Things had still been somewhat unsettled between them when she’d left his place a few hours ago. Part of her had worried that he would pull away now that they’d slept together, that he’d withdraw from her emotionally. Him reaching out to her now was a good sign.
“Hi. How are you settling in? Your new detail okay?”
Just hearing his voice made her feel better. “They’re fine.” Remote but professional. “I’ll be honest—I liked my last detail way better.”
“Yeah, I liked my last assignment better too.”
Her smile turned wistful. They’d been woken from their post most-amazing-sex-ever nap just before eleven that morning by a phone call from Commander Taggart, informing them that a new detail was being sent over for her within the hour, and Malcolm was to relieve Hamilton and return to guarding Anya.
Agents had arrived shortly thereafter and whisked Rowan off to a new safe location, where she’d been given an update on the state of the investigation. After undergoing a polygraph test, both Anya and Oceane had been cleared of any wrongdoing with the bombing and released back into protective custody this morning. A huge relief for Rowan, to know that the women she’d been trying to help hadn’t been involved.
FBI analysts assigned to the case had found exactly what Oceane said they would on her phone, but her bodyguard was long gone, might even have slipped back into Mexico. Surveillance footage from the cameras outside Rowan’s building had shown nothing about the bombs being planted in her and her boss’s cars, because someone had disabled them for a critical ten-minute window.
Whoever had done it, they were pros. The type of explosive, the method and timing, however, all pointed to Veneno involvement. Ruiz had denied having anything to do with it. And no one knew where the hell Manny Nieto even was. Which one of them was responsible?
“How long do you think you’ll be there?” Rowan asked, missing him already even though it had only been a few hours. This morning had been amazing, and being able to fall asleep in his arms had soothed her on the deepest level.
Except they hadn’t had time to talk about things, and what each of them wanted and what would happen going forward. She wasn’t sure if having a reprieve was a good thing or a bad thing. Them being separated didn’t help either. Too much time and distance might allow him to pull back and put that wall back up between them again.
“Not sure. Depends on what happens.” He paused a second. “How are you holding up?”
“Okay.” Except I miss you like crazy. So much she ached, especially since things were still up in the air between them. She wanted another chance at a real and lasting relationship with him, to make up for the mistakes she’d made last time. Now that Malcolm had made her face and own her fears, she was willing to work past them.
Because he was worth fighting for, and she didn’t want to remain trapped in this lonely existence she’d created for herself. The only benefit of her work right now was that she had a ton of it, and it would keep her mind occupied.
“I’m going to call Nick in a little while and find out how Kevin is, then talk to my parents,” she said. “I won’t be going into the hospital anymore until this is resolved.”
“That sucks, but it makes the most sense given what’s going on.”
“I know. I just hate being away from my brother right now.”
“He’ll understand. And he knows you would be there if you could.”
“Yes.” She rubbed her palm over her denim-covered thigh, anxious about asking the next question yet not being able to contain it a moment longer. He hadn’t brought it up, but they couldn’t dance around the obvious forever. And she was under enough strain right now without the extra anxiety of worrying about losing him on top of everything else. “So, I have to ask this, because it’s driving me insane not knowing.”
“Not knowing what?”
“About us.” She paused a beat. “What do you want to happen between us from here on out?”
He was quiet a moment, and she held her breath, all her secret fears bubbling to the surface. “We won’t be able to see each other while I’m on this assignment,” he finally said.
She pushed back a frustrated noise, forced her insecurities back into the box they’d escaped from. “I know, but I mean after that. Are we…was this morning a one-off for you, or…”
“Or?”
“Or do you want more?” Please say yes. She couldn’t bear it if he said no.
“I guess that depends on you.”
She blinked, surprised. “Why on me?”
He sighed. “Look, now isn’t the best time to have this conversation. We’ll talk about it later.”
She didn’t care if it was a bad time. With everything going on, if they waited for a good time, it might never happen. If that’s what he was hoping for, too bad for him. “No, tell me what you meant.”
“You want the truth?” He made it sound like she might not like it.
An invisible weight settled on her chest, pressing her lungs. Her heart thudded in her ears. “Yes.”
“I think I made it clear where I stood a year ago, but that’s not what you wanted. I won’t do that to myself again unless I know you’re in this for real this time.”
The pressure eased even as her heart swelled, a tentative smile tugging at her lips. “I am.”
Another pause. “How do I know I can trust that you mean it this time?”
She flinched inside, hating how much she’d hurt him. “Because now I can admit that I made a mistake back then, and I also realize that my reasons for walking away were bullshit. I’ve missed you, and I want to be with you. Just you,” she added, in case that wasn’t clear. It was hard to put herself out there like this in the face of possible rejection, but it had to be done. “I want you in my life. To come home to you, lean on you, and for you to lean on me.”
“You sure?” He didn’t sound completely convinced.
“Yes. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” She could understand why he would have reservations about trusting her again, though.
“Well…good, then.” There was a smile in his voice. “Then let’s hope this assignment wraps up fast, huh?”
“God, yes.” She laughed, feeling like half the weight she’d been carrying arou
nd on her shoulders had suddenly been lifted. She wanted to talk about them more, make sure everything was spelled out clearly, but wouldn’t push him right now. For the moment it was enough that he was willing to give them another chance. “I really miss you.”
He chuckled softly. “Miss you too. I gotta go now, but I’ll call later if I can.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Rowan set the phone down in her lap and drew the first full breath she’d taken in days, the relief crashing over her so acute that her entire body sagged. Against all odds, it seemed that Malcolm was hers again.
As long as she had him by her side—even if it was only in a metaphorical sense while they were separated—she could get through anything.
Chapter Seventeen
A stream of rapid Spanish burst through the room along with feminine crying when Oceane and her mother were finally reunited at the secure condo location that afternoon. Mal stood at the far end of the kitchen to give them a semblance of privacy and met Lockhart’s long-suffering gaze as his teammate walked in and locked the front door behind him.
Kill me now, Lockhart’s expression said, and Mal bit back a smirk of sympathy. They’d both rather be doing a lot of things right now than guarding a cartel lieutenant’s daughter and mistress. Most of all, Mal would give anything to trade places with one of the agents placed on Rowan’s new detail.
Their phone call earlier had helped a lot. This morning had been amazing, yet part of him had still been worried that he’d made another huge mistake in letting her back in. He’d opened himself up to her once before and gotten his heart smashed to pieces for his trouble.
She seemed different now, and not just because she’d let her guard down and they’d finally slept together. Although being with her that way had been ten times better than he’d ever imagined it would be. It helped that she was taking ownership of her former actions, and that she’d said she was willing to work on things.
He just hoped she would live by those words, because honest to God if she bailed on him again it would fucking crush him.
Lockhart joined him and together they moved to the living room off the kitchen. After the phone incident, they’d been ordered to maintain an eyes-on policy except for bathroom breaks and when the women slept, although Mal and Lockhart would check on them at intervals through the night.
Mal sank down onto the end of the couch nearest the kitchen. Close enough to keep watch over the women and see what they were doing, but not so near that they felt imprisoned.
“Man, Taggart owes us for this,” Lockhart muttered in a low voice, removing his customary ball cap to scrub a hand over his dirty blond hair.
“He knows it.” Their commander was a good guy, and fair. He’d probably do something to make it up to them later. “So, the inquisition’s over?”
“For now. She cleared her poly with flying colors.”
So had Anya.
Lockhart shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned against the wall. “You sweep the place?”
“FBI techs checked for bugs, and I went through the place myself just before they brought Anya back.” There was no way in hell Mal would have been able to stomach guard duty for her now unless she’d been cleared of any involvement with the bombing, or of leaking Rowan’s name. To the point that he would have taken a temporary leave of absence to avoid it, and taken whatever consequences came from Taggart and the DEA.
Lockhart grunted. “Helps that you and she don’t speak the same language.”
Mal couldn’t help but grin. “Silver lining.”
“Lucky bastard. Wanna swap?”
“Nope.”
The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Lockhart’s mouth. “So. How’s Rowan?” he asked casually.
She’s holding my heart in her hands without realizing it, and I hope the hell she won’t break it again. “Doing well, all things considered. New security detail took over this morning.”
His teammate nodded. “Any leads yet?”
“Not a solid one. Apparently the two parking lot security guys at the U.S. Attorney’s office disappeared at the same time the video feeds went dark, and haven’t turned up since.”
“Perp paid them off, then. My bet is they’re either already out of the state and thinking of how to leave the country, or floating facedown in the Potomac.”
“My money’s on the second.” That’s how the Venenos operated. Total warfare, didn’t matter who got in their crosshairs. They used whoever they could to get what they wanted. And if they saw a threat, they eliminated it immediately, be it man, woman, or child.
Speaking of threats… He shifted his gaze back to the two women, who were walking toward the kitchen table now, Oceane’s steadying arm wrapped around her mother’s shoulders. “They’re damn hard to figure out, aren’t they?” he said quietly so only Lockhart could hear him. It wasn’t their job to analyze the women, but he couldn’t help but wonder about them.
“Christ, yeah. And after that stunt they pulled with the phone, they’re both lucky they’re not locked up or being deported right now.”
“Must have given the agency some good intel, to warrant them this kind of protection.”
Lockhart gave another grunt. “Honestly? I think they gave only exactly as much as they had to, and the government’s keeping them safe in the hopes of getting something even better later on.” He watched the women as they sat next to each other at the table, speaking in low tones, Anya’s spiral-curled head resting on her daughter’s shoulder. “The daughter’s smart. I think way smarter than a lot of people are giving her credit for. She’s using that.”
Mal cocked his head, intrigued by the observation. Lockhart had been a Ranger sniper. And snipers were the world’s best observers, seeing things most others didn’t. “What makes you say that?”
“I’ve been watching her. Those gears in her head never stop turning. I can’t figure her out. At times she seems so young and naïve, and at other times she’s guarded. She’s careful in what she says and does, and she knows how to mask her emotions better than most people.”
Huh. “You make it sound almost like she’s had training.”
“Oh, I’m betting on it. But I’m not sure she even realizes what she’s been taught.”
“You don’t think the agents figured that out while they were questioning her?”
“Yeah, but I think they’re still underestimating her.”
Interesting. Mal looked back at the two women. Oceane’s eyes flicked up, moved from him to Lockhart and held for a moment on his teammate, almost as if she was assessing him before lowering her eyes again. Even more interesting.
“What’s their reasoning for not joining WITSEC now?” Mal asked. Because surely to God, by this point someone as intelligent as Oceane must see the wisdom in it.
“Part of her is still worried it might be a trap, something our government would use to separate her and her mom permanently. Not only that, they both still want to be able to return home when the dust settles one day.”
Mal scoffed. “That doesn’t sound so intelligent.” They likely wouldn’t last a day back in Mexico. The Venenos had eyes and ears everywhere. The moment they set foot back on Mexican soil, someone within the cartel infrastructure would know. Then they’d be walking targets for anyone looking to push Nieto out of power.
Lockhart shrugged, his pale gaze trained on the women. “It’s because she’s still not sure what the hell’s really going on. From what I’ve heard, she knows next to sweet fuck all about her dad, except that he’s rich and powerful. He and her mom basically kept her in the dark about his operations this whole time. I think she’s still hoping he’ll be able to pull enough strings and throw out enough money to make it safe enough for them to return home.”
Hard to believe any child of Nieto’s could remain ignorant as to who and what he really was for twenty-four years, but that wasn’t Malcolm’s problem. His job was to keep the women safe, Anya specifically, and e
nsure there were no more breaches in security. Which meant that as long as he was on this assignment, the women were on lockdown.
When it was clear neither Oceane nor Anya intended to leave the table for a good long while yet, Mal and Lockhart lounged back on the couches, keeping an eye on them while picking up only snatches of what was said. Lots of feminine whispering, then long minutes of silence as they sat huddled together before the conversation started up again.
“You getting any of this?” Mal murmured to Lockhart finally. His teammate had way more Spanish than Mal did.
“Bits and pieces. They’re talking about their options from here. Weighing the pros and cons. And Oceane just told her mom that she doesn’t see any way they’ll be able to go home again.”
That would explain the weeping. Anya had her face buried in her daughter’s shoulder now, her body jerking with the force of her tears, while Oceane was more composed, pressing her lips together and taking unsteady breaths.
How trustworthy they were, Mal didn’t know. How much of an asset they were to the U.S. government, Mal didn’t know.
Their heartbreak, however, was real. They could never go home again. Their lives as they’d known them were over. Dead and buried along with any hopes and dreams they’d had in Mexico. Their only option now, after they were released from government protection, was to start new lives either here in the States, or abroad. He hoped they realized that soon enough.
When fatigue began to creep up on him, threatening to weigh down his eyelids, Mal got up and moved around the room. Lockhart remained planted on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded across his chest as he listened to the quiet conversation going on at the table. Mal was just starting to think about getting something to eat when a kitchen chair scraped over the floor.
