Heart of the wolf (21 page)

Sarah gave a low cry, caught herself,
then
became more coherent.
"Bandages and hot water.
Okay, I'll have them waiting for you, Wolf."

He wanted to smile, but couldn't.
"Sounds good, honey.
See you soon." He placed the phone back on the receiver and sat there a good minute before moving. Sarah had tried to be so brave about the conversation. Rising slowly, Wolf automatically placed his hand against his back where his right kidney was located. The bastard who'd hammered him there had meant to take him out— permanently. Luckily, he was in good shape, and he'd been turning as the blow was delivered, or he might not be walking.

As he pulled the door to Sarah's cabin shut, Wolf saw that the lock had been broken, probably with a crowbar. He'd have to replace it for her. His mind was spongy, and as he slowly put one foot in front of the other his need of Sarah rose with burning intensity. As he pulled open the truck door, Skeet whined and wagged his thick, brushy tail. Giving the dog a reassuring pat on the head, Wolf hauled his tired, aching body onto the seat. Somehow, he had to drive home.
Somehow.

Despite the pain in her feet, Sarah walked quickly out the rear door of the house when she saw the lights of Wolf's truck in the driveway. It was dark, and she could barely make out that it was him as the truck pulled to a stop. Her heart hammering, she jerked open the driver's side door.

"Wolf?" Her voice was high and off-key.

The instant her hand settled on his shoulder, Wolf leaned back against the seat. "
It's
okay, Sarah—"

She gave a little cry. Wolf's face was swollen and bloodied. She should have told him about the phone call! Shaken, Sarah whispered, "Come
on,
put your arm around me. I'll help you into the house. Her voice was trembling with anger and terror as he reached for her. She bit back a groan as Wolf's weight sagged against her. He was none too steady on his feet, but she managed to guide him up the concrete steps and through the door. Her own feet were screaming in pain, but she ignored them.

"Just get me to the bathroom," Wolf rasped.

Sarah did as she was ordered. He sat down on the side of the bathtub, gripping the side of it for support. Quickly she pressed a cold cloth to his face. One eye was almost swollen shut, the bluish color pronounced around it.

"Who did this?" she asked in a wobbly voice, unable to contain her fear. Gently she dabbed away the blood, which made the injury look a lot worse than it really was.

"Don't know. Three men," Wolf said, his speech slurred. He touched his jaw.
"Got loose teeth on this side."

"If you're lucky, they'll tighten up in a couple of days. Hold still—this is going to hurt." Sarah applied a washcloth with a hefty dose of soap on it. Wolf never moved, never flinched,
never
even showed any expression. Sarah remembered his mercenary duties in Peru.

"Is
this what
happened to you down in Peru?" she asked, quickly rinsing away the soap with fresh, clean water.

Wolf slid a glance upward, wildly aware of each of Sarah's touches. "Yeah . . . this was a normal, daily kind of punishment
___
"

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Sarah continued to clean up his face. "Tell me what happened to you down there.
Please. "

His defenses were down, and he knew it. Wolf was hurting too much, needing Sarah too much, to try and fight her request. His voice was low, off-key. "A woman I
knew.
. .that I loved. . .was raped," he admitted finally.
"Gang-raped."

"Oh, God," Sarah whispered, "I'm sorry.
For her and for you."
The bleak devastation lingered in his eyes.

"Be sorry for the hell Maria went through, but don't be sorry for me," Wolf said roughly, unleashed emotion flowing like a bitter river through his heart.

Sarah sat very still, realizing the agony Wolf was experiencing. In a hushed tone, she said, "Go on."

A tremor went through Wolf. He shut his eyes. "I've never told anyone about
it.
. . about Maria.
After it happened . . . Not even Morgan."

Sarah felt Wolf's fragility, the secret pain he carried, so evident in his roughened voice. "You told me talking about a trauma was a good thing. Why don't you apply it to yourself? You've already helped me. Maybe you don't realize it, but you
have.
. .and I'm grateful for your understanding."

Wolf glanced up at Sarah. He realized how privileged he was to see the vulnerable side of her, and the thought was like sweet, molten heat flowing through his ice-cold soul. "It's ugly," he warned her.

"What about Maria? You said you loved her?"

Wolf cleared his throat—suddenly constricted with tears. "Yeah. . . She was a beautiful Peruvian woman, your age." Wolf stared down at his bruised, swollen hands, his mind and heart going back to that time and place. "We met over a pig drowning in a pond, if you can believe it. She was up to her knees in the water, the red skirt she was wearing hiked up around her hips. The pig was thrashing around out in deep water because a jaguar had chased it into the pond to catch and drown it. Maria was there when it happened. She yelled at the cat, and he took off."

Wolf tried to smile and failed. "She was so damned angry at that pig because he was swimming farther out into the pond instead of back to the shore. I offered to go get it for her. When I brought the pig out and put it in her arms, she offered me and my men a meal at her village.
A real hot meal.
I took her up on it in a second. She was one hell of a cook, and I was grateful for village hospitality. But Maria was kind to everyone."

Wolf closed his eyes and then opened them, staring at the opposite wall of the bathroom. "I was stationed near her village for over a year, and eventually, we fell in love. Because I'm part Indian, and her people were of Incan heritage, I was respectful of their laws. I courted Maria. I had plans for us—lots of plans. When my mission was completed, I was going to marry Maria and bring her back to the States with me."

Wolf's gaze moved back to Sarah. There was such compassion and understanding in her shadowed eyes. "Maria's village was surrounded by coca plantations, and there was a lot of drug activity—the making of cocaine from the coca leaves. The head of the village, Juan Renaldo, forbade his people to get involved with the drug trafficking. Instead, they asked for protection from the Peruvian police. It was a clean village, and that's why I was assigned with my team to protect them from the drug armies. More than once, men from the village had shown us caches of cocaine and pointed out those from surrounding villages
who
were in the drug trade. It made for a lot of enemies and bad blood."

"My team fell for a trap, and we left the village unprotected for the day. When we returned, the village had been burned to the ground, most of the men killed, and the women—raped." Wolf's voice fell. "It was a warning from Ramirez, the drug lord, to the survivors."

Sarah took in a shaky breath. "My God, I'm so sorry, Wolf.
Poor Maria."

Wolf nodded dully. "The rape really messed her up in the head. My men and I, along with another U.S. team, helped rebuild the village and get the people back on their feet physically. But the emotional scars it left behind couldn't be erased." He shook his head. "The survivors were scared. They lost their joy, their natural optimism. No one smiled very much after the raid. Even though I loved Maria, she was afraid of me. I mean, really afraid of me."

"Because you were a man, and it was men who'd hurt her?" Sarah guessed.

"Yeah."

The unhappiness in his face was almost too much to bear. "What eventually happened to you and Maria? Did she decide not to marry you?"

It hurt to talk, to feel so deeply again. Wolf squeezed his eyes shut. "I tried to love
her the
best I knew how, to convince her I loved her. Maria couldn't stand to be touched by me. She couldn't stand being held. It reminded her too much of being pinned down by those bastards who raped her. I tried to understand. I tried. . ." Wolf stopped, the pain working up through his chest. More than anything, he owed Sarah the last of the story. The real truth that would show him to be the miserable failure he really was.

"Ramirez set us up again, and I fell for it. I fell for all of it," Wolf told her bitterly. "A second time, we left the village unprotected. When we were out chasing Ramirez's men, he came into the village and killed again." Wolf desperately struggled to control his wildly fluctuating emotions. "Maria was murdered by the bastard," he rasped.

Sarah gave a little cry and pressed her hands against her lips. She stared down at Wolf and saw the terrible carnage of what had happened. Suddenly she realized why he'd made all those oblique references over the past week; that he was a failure, that he couldn't protect anyone, including her. Reaching out and placing her trembling hand on his slumped shoulder, she whispered, "Did you feel like you killed her?"

"I did," he muttered harshly. "I lost it after I found Maria dead. I went crazy. Ramirez was still running around loose. I'd already seen the daily fear and agony Maria had gone through. Who knows what she suffered at the end? I was helpless. What were words? Even while she was still alive, I hadn't been able to reach her. I couldn't even comfort her, one human being to another, when she needed to feel safe. I couldn't even do that for her. I failed her. I'd left her unprotected. . . ."

Wolf rubbed his face savagely. "I went on a rampage. I swore I'd kill those bastards who'd murdered Maria."

"Those scars on your chest," Sarah whispered. "Don't tell me—"

"I tangled with Ramirez and his army," Wolf told her. "We fought several pitched battles around his home. I got too bold—I wasn't thinking straight—and Ramirez captured me. Killian, one of my men, tried to rescue me, but they got him, too."

Sarah shook her head. "What did they do to you?"

"Tortured me," he said numbly.

"My God!
How did you survive?" she cried.

"One minute at a time. One second at a time. Ramirez had me in his special torture chamber for a month until Jake, the third man on my team, along with the Peruvian police, was able to bust me out and get me to a hospital.
Killian was tortured, too, but thank
God, not as bad. Ramirez was paying me back for killing his men. I was the one he wanted, because I was the leader of the team."

Shakily, Sarah covered her face with her hands. "And I thought I had problems. My God, I don't. I really don't."

Wolf forced himself to sit where he was. If he moved, he'd get up, pull Sarah in his arms and hold her. Not because she might need him, but because he needed her. And that wasn't fair. He didn't deserve her comfort. "Your problems are similar. Summers
isn't
as overt as Ramirez, but his goals are the same, Sarah." With a sigh, Wolf added, "That's why I promised I'd help you." Holding her tear-filled gaze, he continued. "Summers
sees
you as a continuing threat to him, and he's going to keep going after you. He doesn't have much to fear from the judicial system here. It's the old-boy network in action. He's got his connections. That's why I'm going to walk at your side through this mess. We'll find your attackers, and we'll find out who wanted you to
die
trapped beneath that fir.
With or without Noonan's help."