Running Wild

by Susan Andersen

  “Ah.” She was only there to get something to eat. He failed to comprehend why she hadn’t simply ordered room service from her fancy hotel, but it was fairly evident she meant to take her purchase back to the hotel.

  Joaquin walked back to the alley, where he slipped into the shadow thrown by the west wall. He stood motionless near the sidewalk. This wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was one he thought he could work with—as long as the new mercenary arrived with the replacement car quickly. He glanced around, then had to jerk back when he saw she had almost reached the alley. He sidled back into the shadow.

  It all hinged on this moment. If anyone was nearby and witnessed him grabbing her, there would likely be trouble. Yet it was either this or allow her to go back to her hotel—and what were the chances that the next time she came out she’d be alone?

  She strolled past and he stepped out behind her, sending a quick glance up and down the sidewalk. A smile tugged his lips, for the gods were finally smiling down on him. Hooking an arm around her waist, he yanked her back against his front and hauled her into the alley, slapping his free hand over her mouth. The container in her hand hit the alley pavement and broke open, splashing hot soup.

  She made a wild noise, but what would likely have clarioned to the heavens was an inconsequential sound muffled by his palm. Smiling even more widely, he turned her loose and shoved her up against the wall, pulling his knife from its sheath and holding it up for her to see its gleaming blade. “Hello, Magdalene. I had a feeling we would see each other again. Do not make a sound.”

  * * *

  “WHAT THE HELL were you thinking?” Finn suddenly demanded of the empty hotel room and reached for the backpack he’d dumped on the bed just minutes ago. He headed for the door. He’d had no business letting Mags go to the store on her own. Yes, plans were in the works to clean up Munoz’s cartel. At this moment, however, not a single bad guy was in custody.

  Which meant they were all still in danger.

  Granted, he thought as he exited the elevator and strode across the lobby to the exit, the odds of one of those bad guys just happening across Magdalene during the ten minutes—if that—it would take her to run to the bodega for her soup were probably a million to one. Hell, a trillion to one. Still, better safe than sorry.

  He wasn’t genuinely worried about that happening...until the moment he made it to the store without running into Mags on her way back and discovered the bodega empty of anyone but the guy at the counter. Then fear sank poison-tipped claws into him, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and look more closely down the aisles between the shelves to make sure he hadn’t merely overlooked her. When he saw that he had not, he strode up to the man at the counter.

  “Blonda senorita—” he waved his fingers over his own hair “—adquisición ajiaco?”

  “Sí, marchado momento—” The man was still replying with the cheerful smile of reminiscence Mags seemed to inspire in people when Finn turned on his heel and ran out the door again.

  “Oh, fuck,” he muttered sotto voce. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Ordinarily he didn’t possess a hair-trigger panic button and might have believed she’d simply ducked into another store. But she’d shopped today already, had professed herself starving and they had just spent a week being chased the length of this hell-bit country by goons with guns and knives. Pacing from the store entrance to the alley and back, he carefully checked out the cars driving down the avenue.

  And choked back a bitter laugh.

  Because if whoever snatched her had thrown her in a car, it didn’t matter if he were two lousy minutes behind her or an hour. She could be goddam anywhere.

  To add insult to injury, he swore he could smell the soup she’d gone to pick up and a sour acidity churned in his stomach. Why hadn’t he—he should have—

  Wait. That wasn’t his imagination; he did smell it. He began examining the sidewalk and just inside the alley saw a pool of still-steaming liquid. A little farther in, the container lay on its side. His gut promptly tried to twist itself into a pretzel.

  The alley appeared deserted at first glance but there was the El Tigre version of a Dumpster with cardboard boxes heaped atop it down near the alley’s dead end. The shade cast by the container on the far side was deep enough to disguise a person or two.

  Finn moved into the shadow thrown by the wall, slid his pack off his back and squatted to open it. He pulled out the gun and checked its clip. He had almost zero experience with guns and had shied away from the idea of using this one ever since he’d appropriated it from Joaquin.

  But this pretty much answered once and for all the question of whether his feelings for Magdalene were merely a momentary lust for ownership fueled by the high-octane adrenaline rush of their adventures across El Tigre or the real deal. Because if it meant getting her back, he would shoot whoever held her without a second’s remorse.

  And he was damned sure that only for someone he loved with all his heart and soul could he ever bring himself to put a bullet in—let alone kill, if necessary—another human.

  * * *

  HEART POUNDING, Mags watched Joaquin disconnect his call. Lord have mercy, how had she ended up in this situation? She could barely breathe she was so...well, scared, of course.

  But also more than a little pissed. Are you freaking kidding me, God? We managed to get through all the shit of the past ten days, finally got my folks here safe and sound, and did the right thing by reporting Munoz’s activities to the feds and you’re allowing the bad guys to win, anyhow?

  Joaquin suddenly pinned her in his sights. “We are going to wait here for our transportation. If you know what is good for you, you will remain very, very quiet.”

  “Why do you keep threatening to hurt me?” she asked, keeping her voice equally low and carefully neutral. “I’ve never done anything to you or your Senor Munoz.”

  “He doesn’t want to harm you, imbecile. He wants you as a bargaining chip to keep your mother in line at the coca farm.”

  That would have been nice to know while they were dodging armed men. But she shook it off and concentrated on how she could use it to her advantage now if words didn’t do the trick. “That won’t succeed.”

  “You know nothing of the matters of men.”

  Okay. Swallow it down. Swa-a-a-llow it down. “I know that my parents are no longer at the grow farm, no longer in any territory that Munoz controls. Are you at all curious why I’m in this neighborhood?”

  She could see he very much wanted to say no. But curiosity won out. “Perhaps.” She remained silent and he gave her arm a shake. “Very well, why?”

  “Because my parents escaped and were put into protective custody by the United States Drug Enforcement Agency in return for their testimony against your boss.” She was taking a huge risk divulging this before they rounded up Munoz and his people. But saving her own butt was kind of imperative at the moment, so she’d simply have to hope she didn’t screw everything up as she attempted to do so. “If I were you, Joaquin, I’d get out of town while you still can. Your boss is going down.”

  His brows furrowed. “Going down where?”

  “It’s an expression for the certainty of him going to prison for all the crimes he’s committed. They wiretapped his phone, you know. You actually saved yourself when you failed to tell him that you’d accidentally let me know where my parents were. But what do you think will happen to you when it comes out that you had information that would’ve given him the opportunity to kill my folks before they could use the things they observed on the farm against him? If El Tigre jails are anything like American ones, he’ll likely still have a power base.”

  He turned a little green but said, “I could just slit your throat now and be done with it.”

  “Yeah, you could do that,” she agreed even though she was this close to wetting her pants where she stood. “But when they find my body—and they will find my body, sooner, rather than later given this heat.” Only by sheer force of will did s
he calm the gag reflex urging her to vomit. “Guess who will be the first person they look for? It’s not like they don’t know you’ve been hunting me.” She met his narrowed gaze. “Be smart, Joaquin, and just walk away. Save yourself while you can.”

  Joaquin suddenly froze and she started when the heavenly sound of Finn’s voice said, “Or I could shoot you where you stand.”

  Tearing her gaze from Joaquin’s face, all she saw at first was Finn’s long, competent hand—and the barrel of the gun he’d gotten off Joaquin that first night pressed against the thug’s temple.

  Then he stepped into sight from around the corner of the Dumpster. “Drop your knife,” he snapped in a tone she’d never heard from him before. “Or I will pull the trigger.”

  Joaquin’s knife clattered to the ground and Finn hooked him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him away from her. His hand didn’t have so much as a tremor as he pressed the muzzle of the pistol against the base of Joaquin’s skull. Then he looked at her where she’d scooted several feet down the wall from her former captor. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She wanted to run to him but feared any distraction might put them back at square one. “I’m sure glad to see you, though.”

  “The feeling’s mutual, darlin’. I called the feds. They should be here any second now.”

  * * *

  THE WORDS HAD barely left Finn’s lips when a black sedan roared into the alley and rocked to a halt. A tough-looking man stuck his head out the driver’s window and said in American-accented English, “You Joaquin?”

  “Shit,” he whispered. The only saving grace here was that Joaquin and Mags were out of the new guy’s line of sight behind the Dumpster. But feeling the indrawn breath that told him his captive was about to yell the truth, he quickly reversed his pistol and coldcocked Joaquin, thrusting his hand between the thug’s shoulder blades to keep his suddenly inert body pressed against the wall. “Sí,” he said as he bent to lower the kid’s deadweight to the ground. “She was getting ready to yell so I...how you americanos say? Knocked her lights out. Open the trunk, then come give me a hand with her.”

  He was estimating his chances of taking the mercenary while his back was turned when another car wheeled into the alleyway and four men in black with DEA printed on their flak vests jumped out, guns drawn. “Drop your weapon on the ground and kick it over here,” one yelled and, when after a brief hesitation the mercenary used two fingers to extract it from his holster and do as he was instructed, they tackled him to the ground and cuffed him.

  An agent Finn had met earlier whose name escaped him at the moment approached him and looked from him to Mags. “You two okay?”

  “We are now,” she said and came over to stand close to Finn. He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her tightly to his side. He had a feeling it was going to be a while before he could make himself let her go.

  They both gave accounts of what had happened, then watched as the two cartel soldiers were bundled into the DEA’s car. One of the agents climbed into the sedan the mercenary had arrived in and followed the agency car from the alley.

  He looked down at Mags. “You ready to go back to our room?”

  “God, yes,” she said fervently. Then her eyes narrowed. “Just as soon as I get another container of soup.”

  * * *

  “YOU MUST THINK I’m a total idiot to make such a big deal over ajiaco,” Magdalene said a short while later as she dropped the empty replacement carton of soup they’d just finished sharing into the wastebasket. She felt euphoric to be alive and fed and safely in the hotel room with Finn.

  “Not now that I’ve tasted it,” Finn said. “Besides, if I’ve learned nothing else about you, Deluca, I’ve learned that you never give up.” He stepped close as she turned to face him. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

  Caught unprepared, she stepped back. “Wh-what?”

  “You heard me. I love you.”

  “We’ve only known each other—”

  “Ten days,” he said easily. “During which time we’ve dealt with more situations than most people might in a lifetime. But like your mother said, you’re a strong, capable woman, not to mention beautiful, brave and resourceful.” He looked at her with those dark, intense eyes. “I love you with everything I’ve got, Magdalene, and want you to come back to Seattle with me.”

  “I can’t, Finn. My work—”

  “We have a film community in Seattle. Granted, it’s nowhere as big as Hollywood, but it’s very active. They must need a good makeup woman.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Or, hey, get a job on a Hollywood movie. We don’t have to live in each other’s pockets 24/7. I just want you there whenever I can getcha.” He tilted his head to bestow a slight smile upon her. “And as an added bonus, if you take me you get my family as well.”

  Oh, God. It was everything she wanted—too much so, and she just knew she’d screw it up and his family wouldn’t like her. And then he wouldn’t want her anymore, either.

  Okay, that was probably irrational and opening her mouth to try to explain some of her fears to him, she felt them instead all coalesce into one big burning ball of panic. “I can’t.” She couldn’t quite catch her breath and she took another step back to put more distance between them. “I can’t just upend my entire life!”

  “Darlin’—” Eyes full of concern, he moved forward for every step she took back and reached out a long-fingered hand to touch her face, or hair, or she didn’t know what. She only knew that if he made contact, something inside of her might rip irreparably. She slapped it away.

  Finn froze. Then he, too, stepped back, all expression wiped clean. “Can’t,” he said in a cool, disinterested voice. “Won’t try. Got it.” He turned away and walked over to his backpack. Scooping it off the floor, he dumped it on the bed and started hurling stuff into it.

  People left, that had been a given most of her life. So this just proves my point, right?

  Except...

  More often she had been the one to leave and Finn—

  Finn had stuck by her. From the first encounter when he’d inserted himself in a total stranger’s situation against an armed man he’d stuck by her. He had put everything on the line again and again.

  For her.

  He could have walked away at any time and no one would have blamed him. But he hadn’t. He’d taken risks at every turn and she was too chickenshit to risk anything. She’d once thought him an idiot.

  But who’s the real idiot here, Deluca, if you let him walk out that door?

  She watched as he buckled the fastenings on his pack and straightened, slinging the bag around to hook it by one strap over his left shoulder. He looked at her with unreadable eyes. “Well, hey,” he said, and shrugged. “Can’t say it hasn’t been real.”

  Then he headed for the door.

  Her heart pounded so hard and her throat clogged with so much emotion, she was afraid she couldn’t say a word. But when she saw him reach for the doorknob, she took a lurching step forward. “Don’t go!”

  Slowly, he turned to face her, his black brows gathered over his long, strong nose, his arms folded across his chest. “Why the hell should I stay?”

  “Because, if you leave me—” She licked her desert-dry lips. “If you allow my fear to get between us, I’m afraid I’ll never change, that I’ll just keep going through life closed to all the possibilities I’ve felt since meeting you.” She wrapped her arms around herself, but took a tiny step toward him. “God, Finn, I’ve felt more alive in these past days with you than at any time since I was sent away from El Tigre.” She took another little step. “I’m so tired of being lonely and too damn afraid to do anything about it.”

  “And you love me,” he said in a flat voice.

  It was true. She could pretend otherwise but he knew it and so did she. She nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “I—” She cleared her throat “I...love you, Finnegan Kavanagh.”

/>   His backpack hit the floor with a thud, but he didn’t otherwise move. “You love me madly.”

  “I do. Beyond madly.”

  “And you’ll be my sex slave for life.” It wasn’t a question.

  “And I’ll be your sex slave for life,” she agreed. Then hitched a shoulder. “When I’m not busy making you mine.”

  “Fair enough. But you’ll wash my socks and fetch me beer and pick up after me until the end of time, right?”

  “Not in this lifetime, Kavanagh.”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” he said, casting a glance ceilingward before turning the full focus of those mesmerizing eyes back on her. “You were so damn agreeable, I thought for a minute there the body snatchers had gotten their hands on you. Most bullheaded woman on the planet, my Magdalene is—and that’s the way I like her.” He opened his arms to her. “Get over here, you stubborn wench.”

  She raced to throw herself into his strong embrace, clinging to him for a moment with her nose tucked into the curve where his neck flowed into his shoulder, simply breathing in the comforting scent of him.

  He tipped his chin in to look down at her. “This—you in my arms and me in yours—this is home base for both of us from here on out, got it?”

  She nodded. Lord, yes, this was home. She couldn’t think of a single place safer. Better. Sweeter. “Got it.”

  “Then life is good, darlin’.” He waltzed her over to the bed, where he lowered her onto the mattress. “Now. About that sex-slave thing...”

  EPILOGUE

  Seattle

  Two and a half weeks later

  MAGS WAS EXCITED about Finn’s welcome-home party and when they arrived at the pretty medium-sized house where he’d grown up, she found it all but bursting at the seams. A tsunami of sound hit them as they pushed through the front door and she blinked, trying to take in everything at once.

  The sheer number of people, all of whom appeared to be balancing drinks and plates of food, crowded the rooms to SRO capacity. A gang of kids, aged from maybe four to what looked like preteens, spilled past them into the yard, the girls in the group squealing. Even when the door closed behind them, the house rang with voices raised in conversations, laughter and song, and—in one case—a not particularly heated argument.