by Jordan Dane
Santiago stared at him in silence, processing what Mercer had told him. He looked skeptical, but the anger had vanished from his eyes.
“I’ll need your statement. Don’t leave town.” The detective didn’t wait for him to argue. Spinning Ziffle’s watch in his hands, he headed back to his prisoner, without looking back.
Wounded and in pain, Mercer grew quiet as the faces of his wife and child seeped from his memory.
I’m sorry, my love.
The Jaguar had evaded the police and had a volatile exit plan, designed to take law enforcement officers down with him. Mercer had played his part in stealing the Jaguar’s money and crippling his operation, but the man still had his identity and his freedom. He could start over anywhere. Even if Mercer had been with Santiago on the raid, he wouldn’t have been able to stop the ruthless cartel boss from executing his strategy.
His gut twisted with regret.
In the distance, Mercer heard the ambulance siren and knew doctors would soon heal his body, but in the hollow of his heart—where his dead wife and child still lived—he ached for the family and the love he’d lost.
He shut his eyes to be with Keara and Braeden the only way he could.
Chapter 12
Zion’s War Room
Three weeks later
Morning
“It’s over. That’s what you’re telling me.” Eva Henriksen, Mercer’s Danish benefactor and mysterious head of the Alliance, sounded relieved over the phone.
“Looks like it.” Mercer swiveled in the chair behind his desk in Zion’s War Room.
Elliot Ziffle had the balls to ask for a plea bargain—offering to spill his guts on more about the cartel—but since he’d killed a U.S. Marshal under the vigilant eye of a surveillance camera in the alley of the U.S. Marshals Service, the District Attorney hadn’t been sympathetic. It didn’t look likely Ziffle would stand trial. His lawyers would eventually negotiate something Elliot could stomach.
Mercer’s role in Elliot’s case, and what his team did under his orders, would not see the light of day. Detective Santiago Gonzales had promised and Mercer believed him. Eva had been pleased with the upshot, except for one thing.
“I’m sorry, Mercer, for how things turned out for you, personally. I knew you wanted a different outcome.”
Eva knew the real reason why he’d targeted the Galvez cartel. She never tried to stop him. His purpose had defined the essence of the Alliance and their core values.
“At least we put a dent in the cartel and stopped Elliot Ziffle from making a bigger mistake. The Jaguar would’ve found that idiot, no matter what rock he crawled under. Elliot wasn’t made for torture. He would’ve handed over the cartel money, with the Jaguar not breaking a sweat.”
“Take a victory lap, Mercer. You and your team have earned it. You crippled the cartel and hit them hard. The Jaguar will surface and when he does, you’ll be there and I’ll back you.”
Eva didn’t wait for him to thank her. When she ended the call, he glanced at his watch. He had somewhere to be and when he pictured Zoey’s face, a familiar knot in his belly shot a titillating edge of euphoria through him as if he were a junkie feeding his addiction.
***
Zion
An hour later
Wearing navy sweats with damp hair and bare feet, Nilah Rolstad poked her head out from the kitchen and glanced down the corridors. She craned her neck, looking for a glimpse of Mercer as she nibbled on a toasted blueberry bagel.
She didn’t want to miss him.
“What’s up?”
When the voice of Ciara Flowers came from behind her, Nilah jumped and turned. Her heart raced at getting caught spying on ‘the boss.’
“Did Keiko put wasabi in your yogurt again?” Ciara smirked and snorted. “Because that would call for some serious payback.”
Nilah waved her hands and winced, gesturing for her friend to keep her voice down.
“No. I’m waiting for Mercer,” she whispered. “I think he’s got a date.”
“What makes you say that?” Ciara asked. “If you know something, you better spill it.”
It didn’t take much convincing for Nilah to unload. She leaned against the kitchen island, putting her elbows on the marble countertop.
“I’ve caught him on the phone, more than once. Since he’s been back, he’s been talking real low and smiling.”
Ciara grinned and raised an eyebrow—and her voice.
“I don’t know about you, but I like seeing him happy, even if it’s only phone sex. If anyone deserves to get lucky with that slut Ma Bell, it’s Mercer.”
“Shh. That’s not what I said.” Nilah dropped her jaw with eyes wide. Blood rushed to her face and her cheeks grew hot.
Her reaction made Ciara laugh. Her friend had always poked fun at her because it was too easy to push her buttons. She’d never make a good field agent. But Ciara’s face turned somber as she grabbed a yogurt from the fridge.
“I hope you’re right. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Mercer,” she said. “It would be hard to lose a soul mate, but suffering the loss of a child is—”
When Nilah saw her friend’s eyes water, she gave her a hug—an embrace she would’ve wanted to give to Mercer, but he never gave her an opening. Men like him suffered in silence. It made her sad.
Mercer always thought of her and gave her support in surprising ways, like when he returned from his El Paso trip and made a point to tell her that Elliot Ziffle had ordered the hit on Rangel, the cartel lieutenant. He said the part she played had not gotten anyone killed and that she had followed orders and was an invaluable member of his team. Mercer always made her feel wanted, appreciated, and loved like family.
But he made it hard for anyone to return the favor.
“When we see him, let’s mess with his head,” Nilah said. “Let’s ask, ‘Are you wearing that?’”
Ciara pulled from her arms and laughed.
“Yeah, perfect.” She opened and stirred the yogurt, but after she ate a spoonful, Ciara grimaced.
“Oh, my God. There’s wasabi in this.”
***
With his dark hair still damp from the shower and wearing only a towel, Mercer shaved for a second time and stared at his face in the mirror.
You can do this.
He searched for something in his eyes, reassurance that it was time. Whenever he talked to Zoey on the phone or had her near him, he didn’t have any doubt how he felt about her. She gave him hope for a different future than he would’ve thought possible before he met her, but on lonely nights, his mind punished him.
He heaved a sigh, took off his towel and hung it before he went to his closet to get dressed. Five shirts and two vests later, he quit with the head games and stopped looking at the full-length mirror in his dressing area. He pictured Zoey’s face, filled his lungs and let his breath out slow.
Give it a rest, Broderick.
He couldn’t stop his mind from working overtime, playing ‘what if’ games. After he plugged two Denver addresses into his cell phone GPS, he turned out the lights to his bedroom, grabbed his car keys and a jacket, and headed downstairs for the garage.
He still had a limp from his leg wound and would have to work on not letting it show with Zoey. Mercer didn’t have high hopes of hiding his injury from a nurse, but he didn’t want to remind her of his dangerous job.
They’d met in a burning building when she believed he would kill her. First impressions aside, he only wanted their first date to be normal, without arson or bloodshed. He didn’t think that was too much to ask.
When he got to the ground level, he had company. Maddix McLeish and Stetson Debenham stopped him.
“Wait. Where are you going?” Stetson held up his hand like a hall monitor.
“To the kitchen. I wanted to get bottled water for my drive.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to go that way,” McLeish said. “Nilah and Ciara are waiting for you to make an appearance. They’ll grill yo
u about your date.”
Mercer stopped and cocked his head.
“My date?” he asked. “Can’t a guy have privacy around here?”
“Living at Zion is like wearing a kilt,” Maddix said. “It only takes one good breeze and everyone knows your business.”
Mercer shook his head and decided against the water. He headed directly for the garage.
“I wish I could unsee that,” he said.
“You and me both, my brother,” McLeish said and patted him on the shoulder as he walked by. “None of us have privacy. Stetson is the only one getting late night booty calls and everyone knows it.”
Mercer threw up his hands and groaned.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” Stetson said. “A gentleman never spills his frijoles, amigos.”
When Mercer and his men got to the garage, they found someone waiting. Karl sat on his haunches, dead center of the exit. With hanging jowls and big teary eyes, he’d patiently waited for his master, holding a leash in his mouth, whimpering.
Mercer grinned and knelt in front of his beloved dog and partner, stroking his head and scratching his chin.
“I can take him, Mercer. You go ahead,” Stetson offered.
“No. I need some quality time with my boy. I’ll take him.”
Alone time with Karl was exactly what he needed. Even if it made him late, a good woman like Zoey would understand.
***
Minutes later
Keiko hiked a mountain trail behind Zion, returning from her favorite meditation spot in the Laramie Mountains, when she saw Mercer below, walking his dog. She thought he’d be gone by now. The choice for her to be alone had been deliberate. She’d heard the others speculate about his date with Zoey and she could not be around their happiness for him.
Mercer deserved to be loved, but he already was—by her.
So she had resisted the urge to see him before he left Zion. If he saw her, Keiko knew her eyes would betray her. She could not show weakness. Her father had taught her that. She would not risk speaking to him either.
What could she possibly say?
The only reason I give my body to Stetson is because I want it to be you.
Do you not know how much I love you?
I would die for you. I would kill for you. Why isn’t that enough?
A tear slid down her cheek as she crumpled to the ground and hugged her knees. Keiko watched him leave her in his vehicle—and without a witness to her breakdown, not even a taunting memory of her father—she set her sorrow free and wept.
***
Lakewood, Colorado
Outside Denver
Afternoon
The doorbell rang and Zoey’s heart pounded her rib cage as if it had somewhere else to go and wanted out. Her head turned toward the front door. A large shadow eclipsed the late afternoon light. It had to be Mercer Broderick.
“Are you going to answer it?” Kaity’s sweet voice coaxed her to move her feet.
“Yeah, I guess that’s how this works.” She wrung her hands as she stood in her living room and took a deep breath to slow her heart.
With one final look in the full-length mirror near the door, she brushed her hands down the front of her blouse and slacks and ran fingers through her hair. She couldn’t wait for this moment all day, but now that he stood on her doorstep, she would’ve paid a bundle to have five more minutes to primp.
Kaity bugged her eyes, gestured with her hands, and mouthed the word, ‘Go!’
Zoey grabbed the knob and pulled the door open.
Dressed in dark jeans and boots, Mercer wore a jacket, a fleece sweater in hunter green, with a brown suede vest. He stood on her threshold, staring at the bouquet of flowers he had in his hand. When he glanced up with those incredible eyes, he said, “Hi” with his low masculine voice and Zoey’s knees nearly buckled. She smiled and reached for the flowers, but he stopped her.
“These are for Kaity.”
Zoey’s heart melted.
She stepped aside and let Mercer into her home. With his boots resounding across her wood floors, he walked toward Kaity and Zoey saw the tears in her best friend’s eyes when he handed her the flowers. Dwarfed by his size, Kaity hugged him, but she couldn’t look Mercer in the eye, not even when she choked on the words, “Thank you.” With her head down, she hustled into the kitchen to put the flowers in water.
“So where are we going? You didn’t say. I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
Zoey thought of her bedroom upstairs with half her closet strewn on her bed. She had tried on nearly her complete wardrobe with Kaity giggling at her antics. She’d settled on a nice pair of dark slacks, sensible heels, a blue silk blouse and a gold necklace that Kaity had given her two years ago for her birthday.
“It’s a surprise. What you have on is perfect. You look beautiful.” He gazed at her, letting his eyes trail down her body.
Goose bumps raced across her skin.
“You ready to head out?” he asked.
“Yeah. Let me grab a jacket.” Zoey reached into her entry closet and pulled a light jacket from a hanger. She called out to Kaity that they were leaving and she locked the door behind her. On the front stoop, Mercer reached for her hand to take her to his car, but she had something to say.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice your limp.”
Mercer grinned and said, “It’s only a scratch.”
***
Indian Peaks
West of Boulder
Mercer drove his SUV through the gate of what looked like a private residence with only a wave from the security guard. Zoey wanted to ask questions, but she loved how much thought he’d put into their first date and didn’t want to spoil the surprise.
He didn’t pull up to the impressive residence nestled into a dense stand of evergreens that overlooked a picturesque lake. Instead he drove down onto a road bordering the lakefront to a private pier where a large boat was moored.
“Who owns this property?” she asked.
“A friend.”
Zoey smiled at her man of mystery.
A rugged mountain range surrounded a stunning lake of crystal clear water, the color of glistening sapphires. She couldn’t take her eyes off the mesmerizing panorama and the utter stillness. After Mercer parked, he opened her door and helped her out as Zoey took a deep cleansing breathe of the crisp mountain air.
“Come on.” He held out his hand and she took it.
Minutes later they were on board the luxurious boat with Mercer at the helm. He’d thought of everything—blues music played softly in the background, bottles of wine were chilled, and a basket of scrumptiously seductive foods teased her senses. A delectable assortment of tapas, chocolate covered fruits, exotic cheese paired with wine—everything made her feel pampered, especially when he held out food for her to taste.
Mercer navigated the boat around the private lake and stopped at beautiful vistas for them to enjoy the food, music, and wine. Conversation with him flowed without effort as if they’d known each other a very long time—yet Mercer would always be a mystery to her. The dark recesses of his nature had drawn her to him. She knew he would kill for the right cause, yet as she fed him a chocolate dipped stuffed olive, she marveled at how safe she felt with him—no hint of the violence he was capable of.
With the sun low in the sky and dusk settling in, the chill of the lake gave her a shiver.
“Are you cold? Here.” Mercer took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She pulled his coat around her, enjoying the warmth of his body that lingered and the smell of his cologne on the fabric.
Zoey thought about denying she was cold, but she loved how he took care of her. Although she pretended everything he did for her was normal, she’d never dated anyone so caring and chivalrous and kind.
When Mercer’s face turned somber and he became as still as the lake, she sensed he had something important to say. He didn’t make her wait long.
“There’s something about me that I want you to
know.”
“If this is about what you do, I understand the need for secrecy,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel comfortable saying.”
“I appreciate that, but this is personal.”
He took a long sip of wine and set the glass down as he stared into the sunset. A fiery red glow cast its waning warmth onto his handsome face.
“At the hospital in Cheyenne, I told you that my heart wasn’t mine to give, that there was something I needed to do first,” he said. “I had to let go of something that I never thought I would. I didn’t think I was ready to do it, but then I met you.”
Zoey suspected that whatever he would say, it hadn’t been an easy decision for him to share it with her.
“I was married and we had a child—a son—but something bad happened. I don’t talk about it, because it’s deeply personal, but I don’t want secrets between us. I want you to know about Keara and Braeden.”
He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers, not taking his eyes from hers. What he shared with her touched her deeply—the intimacy of his love and a raw gut-wrenching grief that still plagued him. He spoke of what it meant to lose a child and he didn’t hold anything back, not even the tear that rolled down his cheek, shimmering in the dying light.
She resisted comforting him with mere words. She listened and held his hand. Zoey had no expectation that Mercer would ever love another woman the way he had Keara, but in that moment she didn’t care.
She knew she loved him and that was enough.
***
Hours later
Zoey marveled at the man sitting next to her and stole glimpses of him as he drove her home. Even in their comfortable silences, Mercer communicated with his eyes and the touch of his hand. When he drove up to her townhome, another vehicle pulled to the curb behind them—a white van.
