Alex glanced at the sandwich and her stomach growled. The few bites of pie she’d had last night weren’t meant to hold her over forever. With so much emotional upheaval, she hadn’t stopped to notice she was starving. It was nice of Nate to think of her needs, and it was just a friggin’ sandwich, but it would be one more thing she owed him for. God, she hated that.
Her empty stomach wouldn’t allow her to give up the food, though, so maybe she could think of something to do to repay him that didn’t involve losing control. Cook him a meal in their little RV love nest, or perhaps something as simple as not drowning him in Patagonia Lake.
She hummed the theme song to Mission: Impossible as she opened the baggie and drew out the sandwich.
The chopper was only five feet off the ground when Jimmy leaned forward and rifled frantically through his gear. “Oh hell!” He looked toward the front and swore again.
Nate tensed and his gaze darted around the helicopter as though seeking the source of the trouble.
Joe and Walker turned from the controls as soon as they heard the commotion and their gazes locked on Jimmy. It was obvious from their expressions they knew immediately what the problem was. Everyone who was acquainted with Jimmy knew.
“Damn, Jim. We can’t keep doing this.” Joe shook his head as he brought the Huey down.
Jimmy jumped out before the chopper had settled and sprinted toward the house.
“What the hell was that about?” Nate looked from Alex to the two men in front of the controls, the strain obvious in his voice.
“He forgot his handgun . . . again.” Alex felt like she was betraying her friend.
Nate expelled a deep breath. “Huh . . . how does a guy in his line of work forget his weapon when he goes on a job?”
Everyone was silent for a few seconds before Walker spoke up. “He’s just as lethal without one.”
She turned away from Nate as understanding dawned on him and watched Jimmy race back toward the chopper. As soon as he was on board, Joe lifted off again. From the corner of her eye, Alex watched Nate turn gray and then white. He sat stiffly, eyes straight ahead.
“Let me guess. Afraid to fly?” Alex nudged his arm where it brushed against hers.
Nate released his breath. “Flying is awesome. My fear stems from being stuffed in this itty-bitty sardine can and having no control over whether we fly or crash.” He folded his arms across his stomach.
“Hmm . . . control issues. I should have guessed.” She ignored the glare he threw her way.
Thirty minutes later, Alex was bored stiff. She’d prepared herself for a long flight. It was eleven hundred miles to Tucson. They’d have to stop to refuel. She hadn’t been looking forward to six hours in the belly of a loud, smelly chopper, but with Nate sitting so close to her, she was ready to jump out of her skin.
Jimmy caught her eye once and winked, but even that didn’t improve her mood. Finally, she laid her head back and closed her eyes. Twice she jerked upright after she dozed off for a second and her head plopped over onto Nate’s shoulder. The third time it happened, Nate slung his arm around her shoulders and settled her head comfortably in the crook of his arm before she could object. Anyway, that’s what she told herself, but he was so warm and cozy, and he smelled so good, she couldn’t help turning her upper body sideways, so she could have more contact with him, and slid her arm across his rock-hard chest. She must have fallen asleep almost immediately, because surely it was a dream when Nate brushed the hair off her forehead and kissed the top of her head.
Waking in the chopper was embarrassing—she was drooling on Nate’s sleeve. She pushed herself up, wiped her mouth, and murmured an apology. Carson City, Nevada, was the halfway point Joe had chosen to stop for fuel. Alex must have slept for three hours or more, but she didn’t feel rested. Her skin crawled, her legs twitched, and panic was the order of the day. She couldn’t get out of the chopper fast enough.
It was happening again. She strode several yards away, then began pacing back and forth. The doctor used words like flashback, and post-traumatic stress disorder—fancy words to mask the fact he had no friggin’ clue how to fix it. They could call it whatever they wanted, but they’d never convince her it wasn’t the drugs that had stolen away the person she’d been and left the empty shell she was now.
Burning liquid injected by force into her veins that made her do things she didn’t want to do. She’d lied, stolen, and killed on command, and the disgusting sex acts she’d performed made her sick. She couldn’t remember how she’d come to be in that place or where her family was. The drugs had destroyed those memories, but left the ugly, perverted images to torment her.
There was no help when she got this way except to walk it off. If she didn’t have to get back on that chopper—if she was home in Montana—she’d walk into the mountains alone and stay until it passed. The doc hadn’t said she was dangerous in so many words, but he’d warned everyone to approach her with great care when she was suffering from one of her episodes. The word made it seem clean and controlled. It was anything but.
The men watched her from the shadow of the helicopter, feeling helpless, or impatient, or however men felt when the world spiraled out of their control.
Alex turned toward the chopper, then stopped and backed away. Finally, Nate took three long strides and reached for her. He hauled her against his chest and locked his arms around her, ignoring her pleas.
“No! No . . . let me go.” She struggled with all of her strength, but he didn’t loosen his grip.
“You’re okay. Everything’s all right. Nobody will hurt you. Not ever again.” His words echoed in her ears. No one had ever said them with such conviction before.
Anger did a slow burn through her as she heard another voice whispering in her ear. She gave a mighty shove and ducked out from under Nate’s arms. She spun to face him, tears streaming down her face. “Who the hell are you to say that? The tide of evil sweeps good people like you and Joe aside. There aren’t enough of you. Evil does whatever it wants.” She backed away as he stepped toward her, and her hand slid automatically toward her dagger, then hesitated, not sure if she was trying to get away from Nate or the voice from the past that tormented her.
Surprise flickered in his eyes for a moment as his gaze followed her movement, then swept back to her face. “That’s not true, Alex. If good people stand shoulder-to-shoulder, evil will turn tail and run. I’m a cop, darlin’. I’ve seen it.” He stopped and hooked his fingers in his pockets.
“It’s not your problem. Why do you care?” Alex halted with four feet separating them. She shook her head and brushed at her ear where she swore she felt someone’s breath. Her tears had slowed, but she couldn’t catch her breath, her chest heaving with the effort. Nate’s unwavering gaze said he spoke the truth, but that couldn’t be right, could it? She’d known wickedness personified, and nothing could stop it.
“I’m making it my problem. I’m going to stand with you, just like Jim and the rest of your friends over there.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the chopper. “You’ve got a part in that too, Alex. You have to speak up when you need someone. When the burden gets too heavy to carry on your own . . . like now . . . open up and reach out. I want to help you. We’re all here for you.” The sweep of his arm included the men by the Huey. Nate took a couple of steps toward her. “All you have to do is let us in.”
Alex wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket. His words were pretty—she’d give him that—but it couldn’t be as easy as letting someone else help carry the burden, could it? Most of it was in her head, yet the sincerity in Nate’s voice had helped her feel less scared. Maybe there was something to what he said. She took a deep breath.
“It starts now, Alex.” Nate held out his arms, an open invitation.
The idea of not being alone was finally what won her over. She stepped into his emb
race, fisted her hands in his jacket, and burrowed her head into his chest. “God, Nate. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t get to apologize for this. It’s not something you can control. Now, some of those smart remarks you make—you can apologize for those.” Laughter vibrated in his throat, but he pulled her closer and held her tight for a long time.
After a while, she leaned back and braced her hands against his chest. She didn’t know what she’d expected to see in his eyes, but certainly not the total acceptance and kindness that shone back at her. Her humiliation was pretty much complete, and his understanding only made it worse. She balled her hand into a fist and socked him in the ribs. “You can let go of me now.”
He winced ever-so-slightly, his eyes narrowed, and his arms loosened around her, but didn’t let go. “You are possibly one of the . . .” He stopped, a smirk curling his lip. “Not one of those men thinks any less of you, Alex.”
Was the guy a mind reader? She peeked around his arm at her team members. With a groan, she hid behind his broad chest again. “You don’t understand. It could have been so much worse. No one trusts me when . . .”
“Joe mentioned that, rather forcefully in fact. Said you could be dangerous, but, hell, I already knew that.” Nate stared her down. One arm slid up her back until his fingers threaded through her hair. “If you’re going to be mad at someone, I’m your guy. It was my choice. I couldn’t stand to watch you, and I didn’t see any reason for you to go through this hell alone.”
Alex laid her head on his chest again and relaxed against him. Nate had calmed her—brought her back from the edge of blackness—with a touch and a promise. She owed him big-time now, and he’d already told her he intended to collect for keeping her bad dreams away. The thought sent an unexpected burst of warmth through her. Maybe Joe was right . . . maybe she should trust Nate.
One thing she was absolutely sure of—he hadn’t done anything bad enough to deserve her kind of crazy. At the very least, she must protect him from that. She was well aware she’d just turned a corner where trusting Nate was concerned, but, surprisingly, it scared her only a little bit.
“I’m glad I didn’t hurt you.”
“So am I. That reminds me—I found something that might come in handy.” He took a step back, pulled a small box from his coat pocket, and laid it in her hand.
Alex eyed the box and then met his gaze. “Is that . . .” Gingerly, she opened the lid and stared at the gorgeous rock inside. “It’s your girlfriend’s. It’s Val’s wedding set, isn’t it?”
“Well, not really, since she never gave me a chance to pop the question.”
“I don’t think . . . I can’t wear her rings. It’s too heartbreaking.” Alex glanced at Nate in time to see a shadow pass over his face. He obviously still cared a great deal for Val and probably always would. First loves were like that—Alex had read that somewhere.
“Why not? It’s just an expensive rock and a couple strips of metal. I’ll probably pawn them when we’re done.” He took the box, removed the rings, and handed them to her.
Alex held her breath while she slipped them on, then wiggled her fingers in front of her and watched the diamonds sparkle in the sunlight. She looked in his eyes again. “What about you? Where’s yours?”
Nate reached in his pocket again, drew out a simple gold band, and slid it on his ring finger. He held his hand up for her to see.
She broke into a wide grin. “You’re going to make some woman a fine husband someday, Detective Sanders.”
Nate cocked an eyebrow. “Are you ready? Joe appears to be getting antsy.” Instead of turning to head back to the chopper, he stepped in front of her. His body completely shielded her from the rest of her team. He clasped his hands around her waist, pulling her forward until they just touched.
“This is nice. Don’t you think?” His lips twitched as he waited for her response.
She shrugged. “As manhandling goes, it’s not bad.” Hopefully, the tremor in her voice wouldn’t give her away. Holding her in his arms was about the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, but there was no way she would tell him that.
He laughed as he let her go and followed her back to the chopper.
The remainder of the flight was uneventful. Jimmy produced a deck of cards and he, Nate, and Alex played a friendly game of poker while Walker sat up front with Joe. She couldn’t remember when she’d laughed so hard. It had to be the best time she’d ever had . . . at least that she could recall. Nate was patient as they taught her how to play and even cheered for her when she won more often than not. By the time they were done, she was ready to admit she’d been wrong about him and that she’d been snarky and rude on more than one occasion. Her resolve to be nicer might have been a little over the top, but she meant it.
It was nearly five o’clock when they landed at a small airfield near Tucson. Joe’s FBI contact had come through as expected with two cloth-top Jeeps and a thirty-six-foot motor home waiting at the landing strip. They quickly transferred their gear, and Joe paid a guy with long, black, greasy hair to keep the chopper and watch out for it. Alex’s gaze trailed the man as he walked away with Joe’s money, hoping the Huey would still be there when they got back.
Jimmy climbed behind the wheel of one of the Jeeps and cranked it up. Joe jumped into the shotgun seat as everyone else gathered around. “Check in when you get where you’re going—sooner if there’s a problem. I’ll negotiate with Diego tomorrow and keep you posted. If he doesn’t go for it, Sanchez is ready to get Marco out no later than Saturday morning. Alex and Nate are the first choice to transport the boy, but every good plan has a contingency so be ready for anything. We’re not leaving anybody behind, including that kid, so be careful.”
“You got it, boss.” Walker grinned and saluted as Jim stepped on the gas and the Jeep headed out.
Walker caught her eye as he hopped into his vehicle. “Cheer up, Alex. This will be fun.” That same grin appeared again.
Alex waved as he drove away. She hadn’t realized her stomach had clenched into a ball of dread until Walker called her on it, and her subsequent effort to relax wasn’t all that successful now that she and Nate were alone.
He came up behind her and gripped her shoulders. “Let’s get going. We need to stop for supplies. How do you feel about eating in a restaurant tonight? It might be pretty late before we get set up in a camping spot at the lake.” He propelled her toward the RV.
“I don’t think I could eat anything.” Alex climbed the steps and looked around inside, not sure where she should go.
Nate again stopped behind her and placed a warm hand on her back. “Sit up front with me.”
She didn’t argue—just sat—figuring she might get some credit for doing what he told her. The seat she plopped into was soft leather and comfortable, and the console was covered with buttons and gauges, many of which she’d never seen before.
Nate dropped a map into her lap as she fastened her seat belt. “You’re the navigator. Figure out where we’re going.” He turned the key and started the engine.
Alex smoothed out the folds and located Tucson on the map, glad for something to do. “Nogales is about seventy miles south on Interstate 19.” She glanced at him as he put the motor home in gear and they started rolling toward the nearby highway. “It’s a straight shot. Not even you can screw that up.”
Too late, she realized what she’d said and slapped her hand over her mouth. Damn! Rudeness must come naturally to her. Maybe he hadn’t heard. She glanced at Nate.
A crooked grin and a cocked eyebrow stared back at her. “That’s really what you wanted to say to me?”
Alex shook her head, afraid to remove her hand from her mouth for fear something else unacceptable would spew out.
“Then maybe one of those apologies we talked about would be in order.” He averted his eyes and concentra
ted on the road.
Alex slowly removed her hand from her mouth. Apologies weren’t really her thing, but she freely admitted that this instance—this man—deserved one if anyone ever did.
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. That was rude and uncalled for, and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I promised myself I’d be nicer to you . . . and then it just slipped out. I really am sorry.” She stopped for a breath and tensed when his hand closed over hers.
“Easy. Don’t go to pieces on me. It’s just a defense mechanism you fall back on when you get a little uncomfortable. What you haven’t fully comprehended yet is that you don’t have to defend yourself against me. I’m on your side, duty-bound to do any and all defending required.” He squeezed her fingers and moved his hand back to the steering wheel. “Apology accepted.”
A moment of silence passed before a laugh rumbled from Nate. “You’re really going to be nicer to me?”
Alex closed her eyes for a second. This just keeps getting better. She gritted her teeth. “Don’t press your luck.”
Nate snorted, which turned into a full-blown belly laugh that made her wonder why she thought she needed to treat him better in the first place. She faced away and watched the desert stream by her window until he tossed the owner’s manual in her lap without a word.
Before long, she’d learned how to turn on the refrigerator, light the gas stove, and operate the generator. The automatic levelers and slide-outs were next on her list but that would have to wait as they were just coming into Nogales.
Alex studied the streets shadowed by dusk. Nogales was a border town, with all the crime, poverty, and sordid business establishments one would expect. She had to remind herself that the people were the same here as they were anywhere else. They had families, jobs, and struggled for their piece of the American dream—even the ones beyond the border.
Nate pulled over into an empty lot that contained a few rusted cars. “I saw a KFC about a block back, or if you’re feeling adventurous, we could try that Mexican joint across the street.”
Whatever It Takes Page 7
