Lost

by Laura K. Curtis

  He got coffee. Drank it. Got more. Drank that. And still, no word from the team that had taken Tara into surgery. What the hell could be taking so long?

  Lucy and Ethan arrived, followed by Harper and his men. Lucy disappeared for a couple of minutes, and when she came back she was towing Aurora and Joy behind her.

  “Jacob!” Aurora ran over and hugged him. “They told me you went to get—is her name Tara?”

  “It is. And you can call me Jake. And you?”

  “Jennifer. But I’ve decided to keep Aurora. I like it so much better. And I like me better as Aurora, too.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” Jake said. “Tara was very worried about you. And Joy? What’s your real name?”

  “I’ve been Joy forever,” the older woman said. “I was among the Chosen before the Leader, that is, before Owen Stephenson took over. I lived at the ranch with my mother.”

  “Since neither of us has any family, we’re sticking together,” Aurora said. “Joy said she’s helped out with lots of babies at the ranch, so she can help with mine.” She laid a hand on her belly. “The doctors did a test and told me he’s a boy. Would it be—Would you think it’s weird if I named him Jacob?”

  Jake’s knees went weak. He gestured for Aurora to sit on the couch so he could do the same without looking like an ass.

  “I would be honored. But why?”

  “Well, I don’t know if Tara told you, but my boyfriend, he beat on me. My dad did the same thing to my mom. When I got in with the Chosen, I thought they were all really good, you know?”

  Jake nodded.

  “And then, it turns out that they’re selling drugs to people like my ex. I mean, not all of them, but how am I supposed to know which ones? I thought about naming him for a character in a book or a movie, but I decided I wanted him to have the name of a real person I could tell him did good things for others.”

  “That’s . . . ” he cleared his throat. “That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “So then it’s okay?”

  “Definitely.”

  The door to the waiting room swung open and a doctor appeared. He looked around, then zeroed in on Jake. “You came in with Tara Dobbs?”

  His heart stuttered. “Yes.”

  “Could you come with me, please? She’s out of surgery, and we’ve got her in recovery, but she’s causing a problem.”

  “A problem?” Jake followed the man down a hallway. But then they entered the recovery room and he understood. Though her left hand was bandaged, she was trying to use it to pull the IV from her right arm. Two nurses held her, but as he watched she broke free from one of them and took a swipe at the tubes.

  “She’s coming out of anesthesia,” the doctor said. “I don’t think she realizes where she is. Given her history, I don’t want to put restraints on her, but I will if I have to.”

  “No. I’m on it.” Jake displaced the nurse standing on Tara’s right and sat on the edge of the bed. The nurse had been gripping Tara’s arm, but he took her hand, instead.

  Leaning over, he placed his lips near her ear and whispered. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  She quieted, and a tight, hollow sensation between his shoulder blades relaxed. She recognized him. And even unconscious, she trusted him.

  “Talk to her,” said one of the nurses. “Once she wakes up, we can move her up to the postsurgical floor into a room where you can have a proper visit.”

  Recovery wasn’t designed for visitors, so he continued to sit on the edge of the bed waiting for her to wake up as the nurses went about their business with other patients. He talked about Lucy and Ethan and teased her about being his date for their wedding. He was in the middle of relating Aurora’s desire to name her child Jacob when Tara yawned deeply and blinked.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” She looked around. “Oh, hell. What happened?”

  “They haven’t told me yet.”

  On cue, one of the nurses came over. “Nice to see you,” she said. “How do you feel?”

  “Umm . . . I don’t feel much of anything.”

  “That’s fine,” the nurse said. “That’s the anesthesia and the pain meds. You’ll be wobbly for a bit, but now that you’re awake, I’ll call transport and have you taken up.”

  “Pain meds?” Tara tried to loosen Jake’s hand and go after the IV. “I can’t. I don’t want to take anything!”

  “I understand,” the woman said, “and I’m sorry. But it’s not just to keep the pain away. It’s also so we can regulate your withdrawal. You’ve had a lot of stitches, a lot of surgery. Going through withdrawal all at once could be fatal.”

  Tears welled in Tara’s eyes. “I don’t want any more drugs.”

  “I know, sweetheart. But they’ll wean you carefully.”

  “We will,” the nurse said.

  Tara gritted her teeth and gazed at the IV for a long moment before sucking in a deep breath and nodding.

  “Excellent,” said the nurse. She fixed a stern eye on Jake. “But now you have to go back to the waiting room. Or you can go up to the third floor and we’ll let you know when she’s in a room so you can visit.”

  “Okay.” He pressed a kiss to Tara’s forehead and patted her hand. She was sliding back into sleep even before he left the room.

  • • •

  When Jake returned to the waiting room, Ethan and Lucy were sitting alone. Joy and Aurora had gone back to Aurora’s room, and Harper and his men had headed over to the FBI’s field office, where the JTTF was headquartered. Relief slid through Jake. He appreciated everything Harper had done, but he was done with people. He wanted to be alone with Tara. He led Lucy and Ethan up to the postsurgical floor, and by the time they arrived, Tara had been assigned a room.

  When they entered, a nurse was explaining to Tara what had been involved in the surgery. The mere description of the process they’d used to clean the infection from her fingers brought the coffee he’d drunk earlier boiling back up into his throat.

  “Will they heal?” Tara asked. “Will I get the sensation back?”

  “We can’t ever say what will happen. But the doctor was happy with how the surgery went. He can tell you more about the prognosis and what you’ll have to do when he comes by later on.”

  “And the rest?”

  “Well, let’s see.” The nurse looked at the chart. “All told, thirty-six stitches. All over the place, which won’t be comfortable. It’s easier to deal with if they’re all in a row. The infections were the worst of it. But now we’ve got you hydrating and on a high dose of antibiotics, so you should be fine.”

  “Thank you,” Tara said.

  “You’re apt to be nauseous for a little while longer and your records show you haven’t eaten in several days, so I am sure the doctor will want to start you off slowly, perhaps with liquids.” The woman smiled. “Y’all have a good visit. Stay as long as you like.” The moment she was out the door, however, Tara asked to speak to Ethan alone.

  Jake understood. Ethan had lived through his own brush with addiction, so she probably wanted to talk about it with him, but he couldn’t help feeling as if she’d kicked him in the gut. He took her non-bandaged hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss before he and Lucy left her alone with Ethan.

  In the waiting area, he collapsed into a chair.

  “Give her time,” Lucy said, touching his knee as she settled next to him. “She’s confused. She needs to get back on her feet.”

  “I could help with that.”

  “But she can’t let you. She has to do it herself. Or she thinks she does. With a little luck, Ethan can convince her otherwise.”

  “Like he did with you?”

  “Oh, I never wanted to take on the world alone. I just didn’t believe anyone would be on
my side. There’s a difference. When we were kids, Tara thought she could do anything, best anyone. This past year has sucked all that away from her. She will get it back. And when she does, she’ll want a partner.”

  “You’re telling me she won’t want a protector? That I should back down?”

  “I’m telling you that before she can learn to lean on you without resenting it, she has to believe—deep down—that she can stand on her own again.”

  “You’re talking about therapy. Possibly years of it.”

  “I am. And I have no doubt she and Ethan are discussing the very same fact. You have to consider all the things she’s been through recently and understand that she’s dealing with a form of PTSD. That kind of thing never really goes away. You have to decide whether you can cope with that.”

  And there it was again, the question that had faced him in the darkness of the Mexican night. Only hours earlier, and yet the answer now was so easy. “I’ll have to learn.”

  “Good.”

  They sat together for several minutes after that until Jake spotted Ethan coming toward them down the hallway. He limped, giving away his exhaustion, but managed a smile for them all the same. “You’re up,” he told Jake.

  • • •

  TARA THOUGHT, AFTER talking to Ethan, that she was ready for Jake. She was wrong. When he pulled up a chair so he could sit next to the bed and took her hand in his, she could feel her throat tighten and tears press against the back of her eyes. Damn her emotions; they were all over the place.

  “You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to catch her eye.

  “Not really.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not yet. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. But there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t—I’ve been waiting because I don’t want to hurt you or freak you out.”

  “Oh.” She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on.

  “Don’t. Please. I need to touch you.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. Listen. I need to apologize. In the woods, what I said . . . ” He blew out a breath. “It’s hard for me to talk about Lisa. But the thing is, you deserve to hear about her because I suspect you think you’re alike. You think seeing the needle marks in your arm makes me remember her. And it does. No doubt about it. But you’re not her. She made a choice, several choices, to take the easy path. Even with the full knowledge of the likely outcome, she still chose going back to her dealer rather than calling me or our parents and asking to come home or go back to rehab.

  “She was my little sister. I was supposed to look out for her. That’s what big brothers do. But there’s only so far a person can go. I held out my hand, but she wouldn’t take it. In my more sensible hours, I know that.

  “But you’re not her. I’ve known about your strength since before I met you. Lucy used to talk about you. You’re one of the few good memories she had of her childhood. I was prepared for a tiger.”

  “What if I’m not a tiger anymore? What if I lost that?”

  “You didn’t. Because a tiger has more to do with heart than with claws.” He reached across and touched her bandaged hand. “You saved Lucy’s life when she was a kid. You went into a viper’s nest because you thought your friend Andrea was in trouble. When we pulled you out of the prison, even before we got to the hospital, you wanted to know about Aurora.” He rested a hand on the slope of her left breast. “You have an amazing capacity for caring. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “Jake . . . ” She shook her head, trying to prevent the tears from slipping out again, but they escaped nonetheless.

  “Let me get this out. I love you. I’ll help you any way I can. I just don’t want to lose you.”

  Oh God. He’d said he loved her. “What if I screw up?” The words came out a whisper through the miniscule passage in her tight throat.

  He shrugged. “Then you screw up. It’s part of being human.”

  “You make it sound so easy. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “You won’t. Well, you might. If you don’t at least tell me there’s a chance you might be able to love me back.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes had gone slate-gray and held no humor.

  “I do. How could you even ask? Of course I love you. I had a soft spot for you the first time I read Lucy’s book, but if you were prepared for a tiger, I was prepared for . . . anything but you.”

  “Yeah? Do tell.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Impossibly, she laughed. Of course, it made her stomach churn and her head throb, but the lightness of heart was worth any discomfort.

  “Maybe later. Much, much later.”

  He sighed. “Well, okay.”

  There was a light tap on the door and Aurora poked her head inside. “Hi.”

  “Aurora! It’s so good to see you.”

  Jake stood and pulled another chair over so the pregnant girl could sit down. A moment later, Joy, too, came in. Tara couldn’t believe how well both women appeared to be recovering. Of course, Aurora was full of chatter about what had happened since the raid on the compound.

  “What will you do after you have the baby?” Tara asked when Aurora began to wind down.

  “Oh, the—”

  An explosion rocked the room, the sound loud and close. Alarms rang out and people ran by the room shouting.

  “Should we evacuate?” Joy asked, standing and putting a hand on Aurora’s shoulder.

  “Not yet,” Jake said. “We might be safer staying put. You guys get ready to go while I check out what’s happening.”

  No sooner had he stepped outside than Joy jumped to her feet and in a single, smooth motion grabbed Tara’s portable IV pole and swung it around to club Aurora in the head. The IV tore from Tara’s arm, and Aurora fell sideways over the arm of her chair to the floor. Tara scrambled for safety, but Joy was on her in an instant.

  “Bitch,” the woman hissed. Tara grappled with her and called for help, though she doubted she’d be heard over the ruckus in the hall. And then Joy reached into the waistband of her jeans, pulled out a gun, and jammed it into Tara’s stomach.

  “Get up,” she said.

  Fuck. “How did you get that into the hospital?”

  “Don’t be silly. You don’t think they check on those of us who go in and out all the time, do you? I’ve been bringing things back for Aurora every day. Now get up. We’re leaving.”

  Delay, delay, delay. Jake would return soon. “Joy, you’re confused. I understand, you lived as a member of the Chosen for years. But all the things the Leader told you about the government, well, he was a little paranoid.”

  “I never believed a word that asshole said.”

  Okay, she hadn’t expected that.

  The door opened and Jake dashed in. “I don’t—Shit.”

  “Shut the door or your girlfriend here dies.”

  He held up his hands and kicked the door shut. “What’s going on, Joy?”

  “Joy.” She laughed, a bitter, desperate sound. “You killed every bit of joy I ever had. Get over next to your girlfriend.” She stepped away from Tara out of range of his hands.

  Jake moved toward Tara. In the instant his back was to Joy, he caught Tara’s eyes with his own and then dropped his gaze to the right cargo pocket of his pants. He still had his gun.

  “The Chosen wasn’t what you think it was,” he said, standing between Tara and Joy, his body a protective barrier.

  “I know exactly what it was. It was mine. Just like Deborah and Francis. My heritage was stolen, and you stole my children, but you won’t get away with it.”

  “You’re Elina Muñoz.”

  Joy’s eyes glittered. “I am.”

  “Who?” Tara asked.

  “Elina Reina Muñoz,” said Joy. “Daughter of Juan Carlos Muñoz and the lying, traitorous
bitch he married. My father called me princess. He intended me to be a queen. And then she ripped me away from my home and took me to that godforsaken ranch. She wanted me to work in the fields.”

  Tara stepped out from behind Jake and edged in front of him, blocking Joy’s line of sight to his right side. She could feel his irritation, his desire to protect her, but if he couldn’t access the gun, they were both dead.

  “That sounds terrible,” she said. “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen. I had just had my quinceañera. I was a woman, capable of making my own decisions. But she stole me away in the night.”

  “Didn’t you have a brother, too?” Jake asked.

  “He died the year before we left.”

  “That’s terrible,” Tara said, infusing as much sympathy as possible into her voice. “So much tragedy. How did he die?”

  A smug smile twisted the woman’s features. “He became ill. No cure could be found.”

  Jesus. Fourteen years old and she’d murdered her own brother. Tara swallowed, then stepped forward, trying to keep Joy’s attention fixed on her, not Jake. A patch pocket wasn’t exactly a quick-draw holster.

  “Stay where you are!”

  “What happened after your mother took you to the ranch?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because you feel guilty?”

  “I have nothing to be guilty about!”

  “Not even for hurting Aurora? She never would have done you harm. Or how about for the part you played in your children’s deaths?”

  Behind her, Jake stiffened. But antagonizing the woman was a calculated risk. She needed to have Joy’s total focus.

  “I never, ever hurt my children! From the moment they were born, I told them who they were, about their double heritage.”

  “Double?” She felt Jake shift—getting his gun?—and leaned forward. Although fear and adrenaline shook her, she was still fascinated by the woman’s perverse logic.