Whatever it Takes (Shadow Heroes Book 4)

by Virginia Kelly

“What the hell? You were listening?”

  “I was keeping an eye on you, afraid you were going to dive head first into the dirt. So?”

  He shrugged. He refused to get into it with Sam. “How long can it possibly take to get a transport ready for takeoff?” he asked. “Hell, I could have flown commercial at this rate.”

  “And get both our asses fried? No way. I’m doing what Ethridge said to do. Put you on this plane, personally, and take you home.”

  “If you’re going along with Ethridge, you must be coming around to the idea of working for the agency.”

  Sam laughed. “Hell, no. Not in anyone’s wildest dreams. I’m following orders from my command.”

  The door behind them opened. Mark turned.

  Laura stood balanced on crutches.

  Sam jumped to his feet. “Can I help you get—”

  “Thank you, but I’ve got it from here.” She took an awkward step forward.

  Sam looked from her to Mark, then with a quick casual salute, left.

  Mark pushed himself out of the chair, afraid to ask what she was doing here. Had she come to hear the gory details? To berate him?

  He took a step toward her, but she waved him back. Not a good start. “How are you?” he asked.

  “The crutches are just in case my leg gives, which it won’t. I’m fine. Nothing serious.”

  “I’m glad,” he said.

  “What about you?” She hobbled closer.

  “I’m good.” They’d become polite strangers.

  “You were shot.” She looked him over, as if searching for wounds.

  “The worst of it is a broken a rib.”

  “But you were unconscious.” She took another awkward step.

  “My blood pressure dropped. I’m fine. Is your son okay? Is he dealing with everything okay?”

  “He’s fine. Great, really.”

  “Good.” What the hell was wrong with him? He’d wanted another chance to explain and all he could say was “good?”

  She took several more steps until she reached his side, then leaned one crutch against the chair next to him and held on to the other one to keep her balance.

  “I want to thank you, again, and apologize.”

  “Apologize? What for? I’m the one who—”

  “For doubting you. For saying you used me.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I told you? About your husband.”

  “You didn’t leave him,” she said, her gaze steady on him. “Just like you didn’t leave Victor Fuentes, or me, or Tony. You wouldn’t do that.” She waited, but he didn’t reply, so she added. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  Because he’d lived with what happened for so long, he couldn’t get the words right. How could he explain falling in love with her when it was so unexpected, so complicated?

  He gestured for her to sit. Once she was settled, he lowered himself back into his chair

  “I met Mr. Ethridge,” she said.

  He sat up straighter, wincing. “When?”

  “When we got to the hospital. He warned me not to mention you, then left. But I had to know. Carmen still had his number. He sent someone to bring me here.”

  “Ethridge sent—” Mark wasn’t sure he followed. “You—” He wanted to be sure he understood. “You came here because Carmen and Ethridge wanted you to?

  “No.” She shook her head. “I came because I wanted to see you. I needed to. I—”

  “I’m sorry, Laura. Sorry for what happened to him, for my inability to help him. He saved my life the year before. When…” His cover was almost blown by a gun runner who figured out who he was.

  “I know there are things you can’t tell me.”

  But there was something she should know. “He was a good soldier. A brave man.”

  “Did… Did you help me as repayment of a debt? Because he saved your life?”

  He owed her honestly. “Maybe a little at first, but after I got to know you, no. No way. It was about you and Tony.”

  She placed her hand on his arm. “Ethridge told me you were shot trying to carry him out of the encampment.”

  Son of a bitch. Who’d have thought? Ethridge, talking too much. “He told you?”

  She nodded. “Which scar is it?”

  “Scar?”

  “From the standoff. Which scar is it?”

  He paused before answering. “The one at my temple.”

  She hissed a breath.

  “I have a hard head.” But he’d lost consciousness and when he woke up, Iglesias was dead. He’d gotten the hell out of there.

  She blinked a few times and then bit her lip. “What about the one on your side?”

  “Afghanistan, during my army days.” What he’d done during that little cockup was instinctive. He hated that damn medal because it didn’t honor what his men did.

  When she asked, he went on to tell her briefly about the scar on his shoulder, skimming over the details of what happened a year ago.

  “Your sister is married to Nicholas Romero?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “His cousin—”

  “Was killed with José Antonio.”

  “Both of them knew who I was and what I was doing.” What he’d spent so much time chasing. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save them.”

  She raised her hand from his arm, eased back in her chair and seemed to study him. Mark clenched his jaw, waiting. Watching her.

  “You feel guilty about what happened. You shouldn’t—” She took a quick breath. “The night we— When I was afraid Tony would blame me, you told me that I shouldn’t blame myself. That he wouldn’t.”

  “I was right, wasn’t I? He doesn’t blame you at all.”

  “He doesn’t, but let me finish. Please.” She leaned forward again, but didn’t touch him. “I realized something earlier.” She looked past him to the plane waiting to take him back to the States. “When I thought I might never see you again.”

  Mark’s thoughts leapt ahead. Did that mean she forgave him? Did it mean more? Less?

  “I realized I made a lot of mistakes before. I don’t want to make more.” She looked at the floor for a heartbeat before raising her eyes to him. “You said you were afraid to tell me.” She tilted her head as if to look at him from another angle. “Afraid of what?”

  “Of causing you more pain.” He blew out a breath. “Of how you’d feel about me. Selfish, I know.”

  “You’re not selfish.”

  “Don’t you blame me?” The reason he’d been too scared to tell her.

  “Blame you?” she sounded incredulous. “How can I blame you? You could have died trying to save those men. And Tony. And me because I didn’t trust you. So, no, I don’t blame you. You shouldn’t blame yourself. I appreciate what you did. I’m grateful.”

  “I don’t want your appreciation. I don’t want you to feel grateful.” Of that, he was sure.

  “You want my forgiveness when there’s nothing for me to forgive.” She took his hand. “You need to forgive yourself.”

  “If I’d—”

  “You told me not to dwell of what ifs. Please don’t do it yourself.”

  “Using my own words against me?” Mark tried to smile, tried to make his comment lighthearted. There was nothing lighthearted about him right now.

  “At the airfield, you said you wanted to tell me when I became more. What did you mean?”

  Mark was sure she could feel the tension in him. He was afraid, more than before, because he knew this might be his last chance. “The timing was—is—bad. Worse than bad. You just learned something that has to hurt, but…” He might as well say it even though he was about to sound ridiculous and corny, but what the hell. “I don’t want your gratitude. I don’t want your thanks. I want a chance. To have… an us.” There. He said it.

  She smiled and he hoped against all hope that it was a good sign, that she felt even one tenth of what he did. The warmth of her hand on his seeped into the distance he’d struggled to maintain from the moment he told
her the truth.

  “I told you. I don’t want to make any more mistakes. I think we deserve a chance for an us, too.”

  If he could jump up and cheer, he would. But he had one more truth to tell. The most important one. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Laura Iglesias. You’re brave, loving, compassionate. A wonderful mother.”

  She didn’t say anything for what seemed a forever. “I—”

  He placed two fingers over her lips. “No, don’t say anything now. I know my murky life is a problem, but please give me time. Normal time, not the craziness of the past few days. Then, if you realize I’m not someone you want in your life—”

  “If I’ve learned nothing else so far, it’s that risks are worth taking. You’re worth the risk.” Her hand tightened on his and she zeroed in on his eyes. “I don’t need more time to know I want you in my life.”

  “I insist.” He let out a breath. “I want to get to know Tony and for him to get to know me. I don’t want you to regret your decisions. So, one year. If after a year of normal, you still want me, I’m yours forever.”

  “Okay. One year. Any other conditions?”

  “No, that’s it.”

  “Then I look forward to the year, but I know you, Mark. You’re a good person and I love you.” She brushed his lips with hers.

  It was the sweetest thing he’d ever felt. She took his breath away and he held on.

  “Excuse me, Captain Williams?”

  Mark looked up at the huge grin on Sam’s face. The Delta operator was enjoying interrupting.

  “I’m here to escort you to the transport, sir.”

  Mark shot him a bird behind Laura’s back and replied, “Thank you.”

  Sam laughed and walked back out the door.

  “You’re a captain?”

  “I was once. Now I’m just plain Mark Williams. My murky past is more than likely behind me. I hope that’s enough for a start.”

  “You’re more than enough.”

  And she kissed him.

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Alexandria, Virginia

  Laura opened the front door of her house, plunked down her keys on the little bowl in the small foyer and headed toward the sound of voices and laughter coming from the kitchen.

  No one there, but her son’s laughter and a deep male voice filtered in from the back yard. She sighed around a smile. They’d left the door open again.

  Tony and Mark.

  The sound of a ball bouncing off the side of the house reached her at the same time her son’s, “Uh, oh,” did. Before the crash of something breaking.

  Uh oh, what? What did they break this time?

  She hurried to the door and peeked out. There they were, solemnly staring at the potted geranium she’d bought only yesterday, or what was left of it. Tony wore his ever-present knee socks and soccer cleats. Mark, who’d resigned from the CIA shortly after his return from San Mateo, hadn’t changed from the windbreaker, T-shirt and cargo pants he wore as he finished the FBI’s Basic Field Training Course at nearby Quantico.

  “Don’t tell Mom,” Tony said.

  “We agreed, no secrets,” Mark replied, his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

  Her seven-year-old looked at the scattered flower petals and broken pottery, then up at Mark. “Do you think she’ll be mad?”

  “Was she last time?”

  “She wasn’t happy.” Tony sighed. “She made me clean it up.” With a quick grin, he added, “She made us clean it up.”

  “First step is to tell her. We’ll go to the park to practice from now on.”

  Her son’s face brightened into a beautiful smile. “Can we?”

  “I’m sure your mom would be happy with that. Let’s start the clean-up. She should be home any minute now.”

  “I’m here.” Laura walked onto the patio.

  “I’m sorry about your plant, Mom. Mark said we’ll go to the park to practice from now on.”

  Mark.

  He’d been scrupulous in his dealings with Tony, slowly developing a relationship. Slowly waiting for him to realize he could be a part of their lives.

  After the initial two weeks when trainees couldn’t leave Quantico, Mark spent all possible weekends with her and Tony, either here or at his apartment.

  And he’d continued to insist on that year of getting to know him no matter how many times she made it clear she didn’t need more time to know she felt. He was kind and patient with Tony and with her. According to his sister, he was more at ease with himself than he’d ever been.

  During one of their late night conversations, he’d told her a little more about the standoff. She knew he held some things back—things she didn’t need or want to know. A piece of her heart would always belong to José Antonio. Tony would always be a part of him. But her future was with Mark.

  Today, Laura had decided, she would make it clear that she loved him. The past wasn’t going to cast a shadow on their life together.

  “Why don’t you get a trash bag and start cleaning up?” Laura gave Tony a hug. “Before Alex and his parents come to pick you up.”

  “Okay.” Tony raced through the back door to the garage.

  Mark pulled her close for a quick kiss. “How was your day?”

  “The usual. Lots of paperwork. A few fires I had to tamp down.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yours?”

  “Good. We’ve got things to talk about.”

  “What things?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “You’re going to make me drag it out of you?”

  “I like it when you drag it out.” He winked and patted her bottom.

  “Mom!” Tony yelled from the garage. “They’re here!”

  “Tell them we’re coming. I’ll save the plant. You’ll help clean this up when you get back tomorrow. Go get your bag.”

  She and Mark walked through the garage to the front where Mark’s sister, Mary Beth, and her husband Nick Romero, waited. They lived north of Washington. Nick’s son Alex, from a previous marriage, and Tony spent a lot of time together. The boys ran into the house.

  After initial greetings, Nick said, “Just heard something interesting from a mutual acquaintance.”

  Mark cut him off with a hand signal.

  Laura saw it. “What?”

  The boys dashed out with Tony’s bag and soccer ball and jumped into the back seat of the car.

  “Buckle up, boys,” Mary Beth said. “We’ll get him home tomorrow.” She winked at her brother before driving away.

  Laura smiled. Mary Beth liked to give them alone time. It helped that Tony and Alex, nearly the same age, had become fast friends who loved soccer, or fútbol, as the boys with their Latin heritage called it.

  “Before you tell me what Nick knows that I don’t, we need to talk.” Laura walked back into the garage and used the remote to close the garage door behind them.

  “What’s wrong?” Mark’s tone reflected caution.

  “It’s been almost one year,” Laura said.

  “Tomorrow.” He hesitated. “I know.”

  “Let’s go inside.”

  “Why not right here?”

  She took his hand and led him through the kitchen, down the hall, to her bedroom. The one they shared only when Tony spent the night away.

  “Laura, I have one more day.”

  She released his hand, reached into her pants pocket, and pulled out a small box.

  His eyes widened. “What’s that?”

  She knelt on one knee, opened the lid to reveal a simple gold wedding band, and looked up at him. “I love you, Mark Williams. Will you marry me?”

  He said nothing for a moment, then his face lit up in one of those smiles that made her melt inside. He laughed. “Holy hell, you scared me!”

  “What did you think was in the box?”

  “I don’t know. Not a ring, though.” He pulled her to her feet.

  “Well, yes or no?” She steadied he
rself by placing her hands on his chest.

  “I’m supposed to propose,” he said, “not you. I had it all planned. And where’s your band?”

  “I didn’t want to presume.”

  He laughed at that.

  “If you say yes, you can buy mine. About who proposes… I thought we needed one more not so normal thing so you would know, without any doubt, that I love you. These past three hundred sixty-four days have proven what I should have known from the moment I met you.” She slid her hands around his neck.

  “What did you know?”

  “If we’d run into each other anywhere, the outcome would have been the same. You’re the one for me So, I need an answer. Yes or no?”

  “Well, since we’re jumping the gun…” He pulled her close. “I have something for you in my right pocket.”

  “I feel something but it’s not in your pocket.”

  “That’s something else.” He gave her one of his devilish grins before turning serious. “Reach inside my pocket.”

  She reached in and felt a small felt box. Her heart quickened as she pulled it out.

  “Now, open it.”

  She did. A simple diamond ring on a gold band.

  “Will you marry me, Laura Iglesias?”

  She looked from the ring to him then back at the ring. “Oh, Mark.”

  “If you don’t like it—”

  “I love it. It’s beautiful, perfect.” She met his gaze. “Like you.”

  “Despite your broken pot?” He grinned. “So, yes or no?” He echoed her question.

  “Can I wear it?”

  He pulled the ring from the box and placed it on her finger. She held out her hand. “Perfect.”

  “Just like you,” he said.

  She laughed. “Oh, that’s something I’ll need to remember. You still haven’t answered.”

  “You haven’t either.” He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it on a chair, and pulled her close. “Tony won’t be back until tomorrow. That gives us lots of time for lots of things.” He gave her neck a quick kiss before sitting on the chair.

  “What did you stop Nick from saying? Did you tell him about the ring?” She watched as he unlaced his boots and took them and his socks off.

  “No, he doesn’t know. Let me…” He stood and pulled off his shirt. “Get this off.”