Safe in His Arms (Love's Command)

by Billi Jean

  She shook her head slightly, as if it hurt and said, “No it’s all right. I’m okay, just… I… You knew my father?”

  The tremor in her voice wasn’t fake. She’d never known her dad. Had never known who her mother had run to, then run from. Rob had always grown quiet and distant when she’d asked, until she’d learnt never to speak of the man that had helped give her life.

  Manuel sighed heavily. “He was my youngest brother with eyes as light as yours, my dear. He met your mother when he was in Miami.”

  “Miami?”

  “Sí. Yes, he was there on family business. I didn’t learn of you or your mother until I discovered her letters to him but by then he’d been dead for years.”

  Her heart contracted painfully. Her mother had always seemed so sad, so distant to her as a child. She had very few memories of her smiling. Her mother had died too young, and too soon to get Mandy and Rob away from Sarge.

  “I see you did not know. You are sad, no, that your father is gone along with your brother and mother? An orphan, no?”

  She nodded silently, more shaken up inside than she would have thought. She wasn’t alone, though, she had Mac. Mac who at this very moment needed her to be strong and somehow play the weak victim long enough to break out of this situation.

  Manuel brushed her hair off her forehead and smoothed it back. “We are alone, niña. But not any longer. We are familia, you and I are all that’s left.”

  She met his gaze in surprise. Deep lines of pain etched his face. His amber eyes shone with unshed tears, she thought, but quickly dismissed the idea. He was a monster. Yet, watching him, she realised even monsters had hearts.

  “I guess we are,” she offered in a whisper. Surprisingly she felt tears burn her eyes and quickly looked away from him to wipe at her eyes. She was tired, so tired, and the fear for Mac was pounding at her.

  “Touching, very touching.” Trigger’s lips twisted into a sneering grin. “But we have business to discuss.” He sounded bored, not at all upset to be in the same room with her.

  She glanced at the man claiming to be her uncle and saw that he hadn’t taken his sombre gaze off her. His eyes fascinated her. They were shot with lighter greys, the brown not fully dark. “You will excuse us, my dear. Rest, sleep, and soon you and I will discuss all your questions.”

  He stood and took her hand, lifting her up with a surprisingly gentle grip. She tried to hide the revulsion of his touch. This man could watch someone die without any feeling.

  “Thank you. I will. I just feel…so tired.” She tried to appear forlorn and weak as she spoke. She managed it somehow because his concerned expression returned.

  “Yes, I insist you sleep. Catrina, return her to her cabin and make sure she has everything she needs. Let her have plenty of time to rest.”

  Catrina huffed and stood from where she’d been languishing in a chair looking like the queen of the boat. “Sí, come.”

  She went. Oh, boy, did she go. She heard him say something to Trigger and thought she heard Trigger cuss but a door slammed, maybe him leaving the room, but she didn’t care. She just needed to ditch the wicked witch. Overboard would be her choice but she didn’t have that option. All she had was the hope that her ‘rest’ could be in an unlocked room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mac heard light footsteps outside the door, a barely there whisper of them as if someone thought to enter the room unheard. Bastards. He’d freed his hands and untied his legs, but he’d not got to the rope around his middle. He reached down and gripped the chair leg, tore it off and raised it, ready to throw it.

  His muscles bunched and, as soon as the door eased silently open, he threw the chair leg.

  “Ah, shit! Mac! It’s me, you idiot!”

  “Fucking son of a—”

  “Stop! Stop! Shh!”

  Mandy walked in and quickly shut the door, turned and raced to him. He’d never been so thankful of anything in his life. He practically cried like a fucking baby. Shit was fucked up but she looked so damn beautiful and whole—not harmed—and shit, just perfect. He wrapped his arms around her, hauled her onto his lap, and kissed her.

  She wiggled and pushed against him, trying to make him stop, and his brain clicked back into action. “Shit, we gotta go, sugar, no time for that.”

  “You hit me with a piece of wood!” Her accusation was so damn funny he started laughing and couldn’t stop. She slapped him on the shoulder, then growled under her breath that he wouldn’t be getting wood if he didn’t stop.

  “Untie me baby and tell me you have a weapon.”

  She stopped trying to untie him and winced up at him. Her mouth opened and suddenly she cried out and cupped his face. “Oh, Mac, they hit you.”

  “It’s okay, sugar, had worse on a drunken night out with Dare. Just hold still, here, let me.” He moved her hands off the ropes and tore his fingers getting them off. As soon as he’d broken them, he stood, and hugged her close once more. “We gotta go. Guns or no, we have to go,” he whispered into her silky hair.

  “Wait! I know that, but wait.”

  She had his attention now, but suddenly stopped, cupped his face and kissed him quickly. “I love you.”

  “Shit.”

  “Mac, I’ve wanted to tell you forever, but I love you and I’m not dying without you knowing I’ve always loved you.”

  He hauled her up close and devoured her lips, so full of emotions he couldn’t speak, let alone tell her he loved her too. She held him tight, then, with a rush, pushed away to stare up at him. “I found out we are still on Molokai and they have this thing tied up to a dock. So what are we going to do?”

  “Jump over and run like hell.”

  She gave him a startled look. “Really?”

  “Fuck yeah, now that you’ve finally come clean, we’re out of here.”

  She grinned slowly and shook her head.

  “I love you too, Mandy. Always have, baby. Now come on and no matter what, you run.”

  She blinked and he fought the urge to hold her tight as her eyes filled with moisture, but she nodded vigorously and said, “Okay, I don’t have my inhaler, but I feel fine.”

  He paused to look down at her. Something was up, she was nervous, and she never offered up on her asthma. She’d said she loved him. She was smiling. Something was going on. Something bad. “What is it?”

  “What? Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s go, come on.” She shoved against him and, feeling like he wanted more info, but knowing now was not the time, he moved. The hallway was dark and, sure enough, he was in the guts of the ship. Two more doorways and they were at a ladder. He took it up and paused to listen at the trapdoor.

  “It leads right to the front of the yacht. No one was up there, but I don’t know. Mac, it’s bad. Trigger is in on this.”

  “What?” He turned on the ladder to stare down at her face.

  She nodded and bit her lip. He saw it tremble, though. More was going on here, much more. Trigger had seen Mandy and not freed her? He’d not said a word about that. But maybe that had been after he’d seen Mac. Maybe he couldn’t free her because she’d not been alone.

  Mandy watched him closely, her expression tight. First, get her to safety, then deal with whatever he saw shimmering in her light eyes. His training kicked in and he pushed up the trapdoor to see the darkness of the night sky in front of him. Behind him, the lights from the yacht made it easy to see no one was there. He hoisted the door open the rest of the way, careful not to make a sound, and waited while Mandy scrambled up the ladder.

  As soon as she was topside, he moved them silently down the side of the ship and looked over the side. The water wasn’t deep. They’d have to climb over and walk through the shallow waves to shore without anyone spotting them. He pulled Mandy close and whispered in her ear, “We move down the side. I’ll go first. Hold here. If anyone spots you, jump over fast. If not, climb over and I’ll help you ease in quietly.”

  She nodded and squeezed his hand. He squeeze
d back, so thankful she was alive he was nearly choked up again.

  He released her before he started crying like a baby and lifted one leg over the side, using the railing to lower himself down until he felt water, then dropped silently into the shallows. A soft splash sounded but wasn’t more than the waves already rocking the boat. Mandy peered down at him and, at his nod, she lifted a leg over then the other, letting him grab her legs and place them on his shoulders to secure her as she lowered until he had her. He moved her leg over his head, manoeuvred her around his shoulders and lowered her down his body, kissing her once on the stomach just because he had to, then eased her down to stand in the water with him. She smelt like him, he realised.

  “Wet boots again,” she whispered, grimacing.

  He took her hand and kissed her quickly. Life didn’t give second chances like this. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and head, her mouth open and eager, allowing him to soothe the fear he’d felt upon waking, alone, in the pit of the ship. Breaking off, he pulled her closer and buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. He let himself savour her for a moment, then pulled away to point up the shoreline. She nodded quickly and followed his lead towards the beach.

  He’d been sure he’d lost her. All he’d been able to think of as he’d fought the ropes was what the men would do to her—a woman that obviously belonged to him. The doubts had nearly killed him. They thought her family, but he worried that wouldn’t keep her safe. Now he held on tight, refusing to ease up or let go of her small hand as they hurried the twenty feet to the shoreline. He expected a shout the entire time. The back of his neck tingled, like it did when he landed in trouble, but none of his instincts warned he was in someone’s sights.

  His instincts hadn’t warned him at the sleazy hotel either. He knew why. He’d only had eyes for Mandy.

  They made it to the shore, and with a glance down at Mandy to check if she was still okay, Mac encouraged her to race with him up the beach. The sand was soft but she kept up. After about ten minutes, he angled them into the jungle when she started to lag and forced his way several feet inside the darker interior until he slowed to let her rest.

  “Did we make it?” she panted, but seemed to be catching her breath easily enough.

  “No, not yet.”

  They both heard the first shout followed by another then the drill of running feet down the wooden planks.

  In the moonlight, he could just make out her flinch. Had they hurt her after all? Shit. “Mandy, did they touch you?”

  She jumped and shook her head quickly. “No, no, not at all.”

  “Manuel thinks you are his niece.” He watched her face and saw he’d not surprised her. “Do you believe him?”

  Mandy’s brow creased slightly. “I don’t know. How should I know? Does it matter?”

  Fuck yes, it matters. He’d been the one to kill Ruben—her supposed father—that night in Miami. That shit mattered.

  She stared up at him, her expression turning uneasy, and he realised he’d not answered her. The Gonzaleses were murderers and sick bastards. Mandy was all that was right in this world. What did she think, discovering she came from such a family?

  “No, doesn’t matter. You’re mine. Whoever your dad was, I thank him, because without him you’d not be here, but I could care less about anything but you. You’re mine, Mandy. Don’t let this shit cloud that fact.”

  Something he said must have been right because her shoulders lost the tension he hadn’t noticed until it was gone. She exhaled shakily and nodded. Her eyes filled with tears, stabbing him with a fresh hit of pain and guilt.

  “Don’t cry, baby. I’m going to fix this shit, okay? Now, tell me what else.”

  She laughed and covered her mouth. “Isn’t that enough?” she whispered past her hands. “I find out I’m related to monsters right after I kill one.”

  “Mandy, don’t think like that, baby. Don’t. You’re everything that is good on this damn fucked-up planet. Don’t think you’re not, okay?”

  She nodded silently, watching him like he might vanish. He knew the feeling. “Now, what else?”

  She opened her mouth, but a shout, much closer, broke through the jungle.

  “We have to go.”

  “But Mac, there’s—”

  “Shit, we have to move. You can tell me in a minute, okay?” he growled.

  She looked distressed but nodded.

  He pulled her along. They needed speed to put some space between them and the cartel. On an island barely ten miles wide, and, if he remembered right, only forty miles long, that was going to prove to be a fucking problem. He needed to figure out where they were. The island was broken up into diverse climates. They’d been in the lush jungle on the north shore of the island and had travelled inland to the mountain plains surrounding Mauna Loa where he’d stashed the truck. Now it looked like they were either on the eastern side of the island, or back at the northern end. Shit, did it matter? If he could get them back to Mauna Loa, he’d figure it out.

  He took her hand and started off, pushing as much of the vegetation out of his way as he could.

  Mandy crashed through the jungle behind Mac, so frightened she wasn’t even worried about her breathing. She knew they were in trouble, that the situation had just gained a horrible, menacing component—Trigger. He was a trained SEAL, just like Mac, but unlike Mac he wasn’t burdened with a woman.

  Mac kept her going, slowing then speeding up with such skill she knew he was pacing her but she knew she’d never have made it this far without it. It felt like they’d gone five miles, possible less, maybe more. She just couldn’t tell. The stopping and starting was wearing on her. As soon as she gained her runner’s breath, he’d stop them, make her wait for silent intense minutes, for what, she didn’t know, then start up again.

  “Here, shh—I think we’re parallel to a road, let me check. Stay here.” He pressed her down and she sank to her knees, so tired she simply nodded. She couldn’t walk another step, her lungs burned, her throat felt tight, but she knew she would move, she’d run, if it meant getting out of this. People never knew what they could or couldn’t do until pushed. Who’d known she could act good enough to fool a wicked bitch and a drug lord? Or kill a man?

  She stifled a laugh and shook her head wearily. All around her was paradise, soft, cool breezes from the ocean, the sounds of birds singing, and she was dirty, sweaty, hurting, and scared. The last two days had forced her into situations that even in her worst nightmares she’d never dreamt existed. All she wanted was to curl up in a ball next to Mac. And pretend none of this had ever happened.

  “Okay.” Mac suddenly appearing again frightened her but she was too tired to do more than try to get to her feet again. “No, stay down. It’s a road. I don’t hear anyone, but that shit means nothing.” His hushed, rough voice scared her more than anything did. He sounded so hard. “We’re out ahead of them, but I want to cross over the road and hit the other side. I found a stream and it leads to a waterfall. We’ll make for that and hopefully the sound of the water will hide our movements.”

  “Won’t it also hide them?” She’d seen The Last of the Mohicans. She’d never understood why those guys had thought they could hide behind a waterfall. No way was Mac going to jump off some cliff into water and leave her to the savages.

  “It will, but not from me.”

  She bent her head and cupped her face in her hands, elbows loose and tired on her knees. “Oh, God, I know that is supposed to reassure me, but—”

  “Trust me, Mandy, that’s all. Just trust.”

  “I do, Mac. I do,” she reassured him. She recognised the look on his face. He was going to take out the entire cartel. She took his hand and couldn’t help the tears that rushed her eyes. Mandy pressed her face to his open palm. Her shoulders shook with the force of her tears.

  “Ah, baby, damn, don’t cry. Don’t do that, sugar.” He sounded panicked and pulled her close, taking his hand away to brush her face with his palm. “Lo
ok at me, come on, Mandy. Don’t cry, it will be okay. I can—”

  “I know you can, that’s what makes me so sad, Mac,” she stuttered. “I know you can. I don’t want you to have to any longer. I want you to quit the SEALs and stop—”

  “Shhh, I’m not a SEAL, baby. I retired. Shit, don’t cry harder. I just need to fix this, sugar, damn,” he broke off when she wrapped her arms around him.

  He’d quit the SEALs? He wasn’t in the military any longer?

  “Mandy, shh, baby, we need to move,” he reminded her.

  She sniffed and wiped her face on his shirt. “Okay, but, Mac, I have to tell you about the attack.”

  Mac froze. She felt the tension in his body as his muscles hardened. “Mandy, baby, now is not the time—”

  “Yes,” she whispered brokenly. “Yes, it is. Trigger was my attacker. He’s in on this. He threatened to kill me.”

  Mac tightened his hands on her shoulders almost painfully and stared down at her with a look she’d never seen before. Murder. That’s what it was. Trigger was dead.

  “He didn’t rape me, Mac. He tried, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.”

  He winced painfully and cupped her face like he thought she might break. “What else?”

  “He’s here, asking for something from the cartel—”

  “No, Mandy, what else happened with Trigger?”

  She sniffed back the tears and said, “He tried to rape me but he couldn’t. I think he’s…gay.” Mac jerked back and frowned down at her. “I think, well, Mac, I think he kinda likes…you.”

  She bit her lip and watched Mac’s eyebrows raise then lower in a scowl. He tipped his head like he hadn’t quite heard her then slowly shook his head. “Yeah? That so?”

  “You’re mad.”

  “Mad? I’m pissed off. Trigger hurt you, trying to force you away from me, and he has the hots for me? What do you think I am? Happy?”

  Well, putting it that way, she could see why he was upset. Kinda made her mad too, but she’d expected something else from Mac. What, she didn’t know, but he was calm and she guessed when Mac was calm he was the most dangerous.