Her Loving Hero

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  “Emily, get it right, I said I could fall in love with you.”

  “You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, I’m a lost cause. Give it up. I’m a weak mess that has panic attacks. You can do better.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “You better be listening to me Buddy.”

  Wyatt wanted to grin at the tartness in her tone. “Yep, you sure do sound weak,” he agreed solemnly.

  “Wyatt. Fine, if not weak, let’s go back to scared and scarred.”

  “That’s why you barreled into a fight between Brant and Randy last week?”

  “I wasn’t thinking, and they were too close to Lisa and Kim, they’re only twelve. They could have been hurt.”

  “You could have been hurt.” It had scared the piss out of him when he’d seen it across the room. Nope, Miss Hoag was not the same woman he’d met six months ago. Scared and scarred his ass. Well, maybe she did have physical scars, but who didn’t?

  “If you’re thinking anything more than friends, then you could end up hurt. We’re just going to be friends, okay?” Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “I promise to protect my heart. Does that satisfy you?”

  He watched as she smiled in relief. She just didn’t understand that he planned to protect his heart by giving it over to her keeping.

  “Wyatt are you listening to me?” Dex demanded. “I’ve been calling your name for three minutes.”

  When had his friend climbed out from under the desk? “Huh?” Wyatt asked. “What did you say?”

  “Let’s get on this. I want to see the chat room you were in, then follow the string to the private chat. Let’s see what the fuck is going on in Oman.”

  Two hours later Dex was one pissed off SEAL. “This is a serious problem. Not even Lydia Archer’s twisted brain can come up with a way to figure it out, and she thinks like a hacker.”

  Wyatt and Dex were sitting on his deck watching as four kids fought over the see-saw. Lydia had been just as pissed and frustrated as her husband Clint when they’d hung up the phone. She had a mouth on her. It was kind of cute with that melodic Spanish accent.

  “According to Emily, these guys are nothing more than former students of the American school, and maybe some expats. They shouldn’t be using this kind of uber-sophisticated protection,” Wyatt said.

  “Either this is one programming idiot savant we’re dealing with, or we’ve got another government faction or a terrorist cell.”

  “I don’t think someone who is a foreign national would have used the middle finger, do you?” Wyatt asked calmly as he used his thumbnail to scrape the label of his beer bottle.

  “Nope,” Dex said dejectedly. “But it could just mean that we have English speakers working with a larger foreign group.”

  Wyatt looked sideways at his mentor. He’d never seen him stymied like this. But he could definitely see the wheels turning, which gave him hope. Dex got up and leaned on the rail of the deck, studying the kids.

  Wyatt watched as one child walked up to the group. He started directing and pointing, and soon four children were on the seesaw, two on each end equally balanced. All it took was someone from the outside.

  Wyatt sat up in his chair. “Kane,” Wyatt said.

  Dex turned around and leaned back against the rail and stared at Wyatt. “I’m in awe. The student has now become the master,” Dex grinned and pulled out his phone and put it on speaker commanding it to dial Kane McNamara. When it went to voicemail, Dex swore then left a voicemail telling the man to call him back immediately.

  “You know, you could have asked Kane to call back, instead of just demanding,” Wyatt said.

  “Why would I have done that? Kane wouldn’t have,” Dex said as he put his phone back in his pocket.

  He had a point.

  Dex’s phone rang.

  “That was fast,” Wyatt said.

  Dex turned pale. “It’s Kenna’s ringtone,” he said as he answered. “Baby? You okay?”

  Wyatt followed Dex as he listened and headed into Wyatt’s house and headed for the front door. He was murmuring as he flung open the door and started to run toward his vehicle. Wyatt yelled after him.

  “Which hospital?”

  “Balboa.”

  Wyatt went in to lock up, then he hauled ass.

  Emily finally called her mom at nine o’clock Tuesday night, knowing it would be eight in the morning. It had been two days since her conversation with Carly, and despite three calls and five e-mails, she couldn’t get her sister to call back. Emily was definitely getting freaked out.

  “Hi Honey, this is a wonderful surprise,” her mother’s voice wasn’t able to soothe her like it once had.

  “Hi Mom, I was just calling to check in.”

  “We just talked on Sunday, not much has changed,” she laughed. “Wait, is something wrong? Do you need to talk? I can fly to California in ten days after the Emir of Qatar’s visit. The secretary of state will be here too. There’s a lot to get ready, but after that I’m all yours.”

  Emily pushed past the hurt. She’d been out from under her parents influence long enough to know that how they operated wasn’t how all diplomatic couples worked. Ambassadors didn’t always require their wives to coordinate every function.

  “Would you like me to arrange a trip?” Lilliana Hoag asked.

  “I’m fine. I’m trying to get ahold of Carly.”

  Her mother laughed. “She’s in the middle of the hustle and bustle of her senior year. I swear it’s even busier than when you were going to TAISM. I haven’t seen her in two days, she’s with the Lancaster’s. Do you remember them? Oh wait, you wouldn’t. Harry arrived after you started tutoring. He’s a rising star at Schlumberger. He and his wife are going to be at the dinner.”

  “Mom,” Emily interrupted. “Why is she at the Lancaster’s?”

  “Oh, they have twin daughters. They’re all working on their performance for the senior send off. They’re the only three girls in the choir.”

  “She’s not answering her cell phone.”

  “I’m not surprised. She’s been texting and calling a boy. Harry knows that Christiano is not allowed anywhere near her. I swear these Italian boys are so persistent, and Carly thinks she’s in love.”

  “How are you getting ahold of her?”

  “I call one of the girls. Petra and Mercedes answer their phones. Do you want their numbers?” her mother asked.

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Yes please.”

  “Hold on.”

  Emily wrote down the numbers so she could log them into her contacts.

  “Honey, I’ve got to go. Tell Carly to call me. Kristi is acting like a pill. I want her to talk some sense into her.”

  “What’s wrong with Kristi?”

  “She wants to dye her hair black. Do you believe that? I mean she has the same beautiful blonde hair as you and your sister, and now she wants to dye her hair black? Carly will be able to talk some sense into her, I just know it. Got to go. Tell me if you want me to make those reservations, Baby. Love you.”

  The line went dead.

  Emily looked at her phone. She pulled up the contact for her mother and looked at her picture. They’d all gotten their blonde hair from Lilliana. She was a wonderful mother, except when she got caught up into the glamour of the diplomatic lifestyle, then... Then not so much.

  Emily got up from the couch and strode to her little kitchen. She pulled out the bottle of lemonade and poured herself a glass. She took a long sip and shook her head.

  Nope, she wasn’t having any of this. Her mother had come to San Diego and stayed over with her. Her mother had cossetted her, cajoled her and then damn near dragged her to the best therapist in the world. She hadn’t left until she was sure that Emily was actually up on her feet and tentatively re-entering society by volunteering with the kids at the YMCA and had the part time job at the bookstore.

  The only bone of contention had been when Emily hadn’t taken any money from her parents for a bett
er place to live. She had insisted on only using the small inheritance she’d received from her grandmother.

  Her mother had written a check and thrust it at her, but she’d torn it up.

  “I don’t understand why you won’t take it,” her mother had exclaimed.

  Emily refused to discuss it. If her mother couldn’t figure it out, then she wasn’t going to bother to explain it to her. It should have been obvious. Her dad had always used money as a way to buy his children’s love, loyalty and compliance. It ended the day he had refused to pay for Emily’s trip back to the states to visit her grandmother in the hospital, instead saying her tutoring job was more important.

  Emily had discussed this multiple times with her therapist. Somehow, she couldn’t shake the significance of the fact that her grandmother had ended up dead, and she’d ended up raped. Logically she knew that wasn’t her dad’s fault, but if he didn’t try to bludgeon people with his money to get his way, then she would have seen her grandmother one last time before she’d died. So, there was no way she was taking his money now. It was fine. Her apartment might be small and in the middle of a party district, but it was secure and that’s all that mattered.

  Emily shook her head. Enough thinking about the past, she needed to concentrate on the here and now. She plugged in Mercedes’ number and texted the girl, realizing that she probably wouldn’t pick up an unknown number. The forty-five minutes she waited she spent looking up how much longer she would need to wait for California residency to kick in before she could apply for in-state tuition to one of the state universities. She definitely wanted to know if she could start the application process before the actual requirements started. Emily was knee deep into the research when her phone rang.

  “Emily. It’s Carly.”

  She sounded out of breath.

  “What’s going on. What’s the deal with Christiano?”

  “Who?” Carly asked. “Oh yeah, that’s just the cover story I gave Mom.”

  All of the hairs on the back of Emily’s neck stood up. She’d been lying to their mother?

  “Carly, what in the heck are you up to?”

  “We got a lead on the rumors about Yemen. One of the school counselors was talking about it.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “The twins, Chris and me. We’ve got it figured out.” Carly sounded psyched.

  “What do you have figured out?” Emily asked patiently.

  “Miss Bannister is an interpreter, besides being a school counselor. She moved back to America two days ago, even though the school year wasn’t finished.”

  “And how is that relevant?” Emily asked.

  “It’s because of the phone call the twins and I overheard. We just know it. Chris explained to us what we heard. So now we know,” Carly said triumphantly.

  Emily felt her head begin to pound.

  “What do you know?” she asked again.

  “A reporter she knew, and did interpreting for, died. Chris is positive he was killed.”

  “Bloody hell Carly, start from the damned beginning. Use small words and tell me every tiny little thing this Miss Bannister said.” Emily heard her voice rising, but she couldn’t seem to care. A reporter was dead?

  “Okay, okay, okay. Miss Bannister was talking on the phone. She said, ‘I’m quitting this job. People are dying, and I’m out.’ Then she paused.”

  “Do you think she was talking to her employer?” Emily asked.

  “Chris doesn’t think so, because of the next thing she said.”

  “Wait a minute, who’s Chris?” Emily asked. She was having trouble keeping up.

  “Chris Lancaster. He’s Petra and Mercedes’s older brother. Anyway, the next thing Miss Bannister said was that the reporter had stolen a propaganda video from one of the men she normally does interpreting for. He was having trouble understanding everything, so he gave her an audio section, and asked her to translate. She was able to make out that it was a man named Hamza al Libi taking credit for an orphanage being bombed, and she told him that when she gave it back to him and the next thing she knew he was dead.”

  “So, Miss Bannister does jobs for an Omani? Do you know who?”

  “Chris found out that she usually works for the Omani and Yemini Economic Ministers. It’s on her Facebook profile.”

  Emily took in everything her sister had said. “Have you talked to Dad about this? If a reporter was killed, he needs to be made aware.”

  “I tried to, he blanked me. Wouldn’t give me the time of day. Same thing happened when the twins and Chris went to their father. But their parents are going through a vicious divorce, so they’re not listening to anything the three of them say.”

  “Let me call Dad and try talking to him,” Emily suggested.

  “It’s okay, we have a plan. Well, actually it’s Chris’s plan. He’s really smart. Chris had me apply to be the translator in Miss Bannister’s place. He said since I had the language skills and was the Ambassador’s daughter, they would take me in a heartbeat. Well sort of.” Her voice trailed off.

  Bloody Hell!

  “What do you mean sort of.” Emily asked calmly.

  “Well, Chris said that I would be too young.”

  “He’s right. And you’d need Dad’s recommendation and approval.”

  Thank the Lord.

  “I gave them Chris’s phone number, and said it was Dad’s private cell phone number. They believed him, so that part went well.”

  “Are you telling me that they are going for a high school student to be an interpreter?”

  Carly didn’t answer.

  “Answer me.”

  “I told them I was you. They were really excited. We look alike, so it won’t be a problem.”

  “Except everyone knows I’m living in America,” Emily practically shouted.

  “Nope, during my interview I said I, you, moved back two months ago. So, I’m going to be the interpreter. Isn’t that killer? I’m positive this has to be about the problems with Yemen. This is a big party on the yacht, everybody’s going to be there.”

  Emily felt her blood pressure shooting through the roof. “I don’t get it, why didn’t you tell Dad. He’d understand, especially if someone was almost killed.”

  “No!” Carly shouted. “We have everything planned out. You’ll ruin it. Chris, Petra and Mercedes got jobs working with the caterers, it was easy. The restaurant loved the idea of having multi-lingual waitstaff. This isn’t that big of a deal, what could go wrong? It’s just five hours or so.”

  Emily had to find a way to stop her sister from doing something really dangerous. According to Wyatt, this thing with her computer dying and the chat room was really, really bad. He’d looked kind of panicked, and he was a SEAL.

  Emily rubbed her head, trying to come up with something, that would dissuade her.

  “Carly, you watched too many episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You and your merry band of teenagers are not going to take down a terrorist cell.”

  “Emily, I talked to you because I thought you would understand. I’m not stupid, and neither are my friends.”

  She could hear the hurt and resentment in her sister’s voice. But stupid didn’t even come close to covering it.

  Double Bloody Hell!

  She muted the phone and let out a low shriek of frustration flavored with terror, then pressed the button so she could talk. “I didn’t say you were stupid.”

  Thought it, didn’t say it.

  Emily blew out her breath. She had to get a grip on this conversation. She wished that Wyatt was here. Her eyes lit up.

  “You’re right Carly, you have to help make a difference.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  Emily infused warmth into her tone. “Absolutely. As a matter of fact, I might be able to get one of my old friends in Oman to come up with even more information. He’s really smart. Do you want me to check into it?”

  “Really? Do you mean that?”

  Emily heard the excitement
and relief in her sister’s voice.

  “I really do.”

  “Let me talk to the team.”

  Oh God, she called them a team.

  “You do that. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can set up a conference call.”

  “Do you think you could get him on the phone today. The party is Saturday night, we don’t have much time.”

  Triple bloody hell!

  “Sure.” Emily crossed her fingers.

  “I’ll talk to Chris, Petra and Mercedes. Thanks, Big Sis, you’re the best.”

  Carly hung up and Emily literally banged her head against her desk three times. Please say that Wyatt would know what to do.

  6

  Wyatt stopped by the nurse’s station and set the carrying case of coffee and bags of pastries down.

  “This bag is for you,” he winked at the adorable middle-aged nurse who had been so kind to him and the Black Dawn ladies since they had arrived.

  “You’re a keeper,” the nurse smiled.

  “I’ll be by later to take your order for Lefty’s pizza.”

  “Lefty’s,” a male nurse who was behind Wyatt perked up. “Who do I have to kill?”

  “If Kenna’s still on track, I should be back in three hours.” Wyatt headed down the hall. It was just him, Aliana, Riya, Miranda, Evie and Aurora. Dex was in the delivery room with Kenna. The other guys would be here a little later. Currently they were at the obstacle course. He didn’t have to be there because he had come in first yesterday...three times. It was good to be young. Actually, he was damned lucky, he’d had the Marquis de Sade as a physical therapist. It was because of him that his leg was in such good shape that he was able to perform so well after his injury.

  Miranda jumped up as soon as she saw him and grabbed the bag of pastries from him. He looked around the waiting room, not at all surprised to see that one corner had been partitioned off as the Lady SEAL section. Chairs and tables had been moved so that Miranda’s lively toddler and Aurora’s creepy crawler couldn’t get too far. He’d bet dollars to donuts it was Miranda who had organized everything in his absence.