Navy SEAL Noel (16 page)

Because sometimes people came back.

Juan Carlos was still pacing like a cheetah, infinitely groomed, yet feral. He growled low in his throat, mumbling something over and over to himself. Finally he exploded. “Answer me. You think they're innocent? You think killing my brother was an innocent act?”

Her muscles twitched. “No.”

“He was a good man. A good brother. And he was studying in America.”

Jess tamped down the fear that threatened to choke her. She knew something about school. Maybe she could keep Juan Carlos talking, distract him from whatever he had planned for her. “What was he studying?”

“Medicine.”

Oh, the irony. One brother learning to heal, the other intent on destruction. “How far did he get in his studies?”

Juan Carlos's feet stopped off to her right, pointing toward the unlit fireplace. He was quiet for a long moment. Maybe he hadn't heard her. More likely he was tired of answering her questions.

“He was just about to finish medical school. My father left Los Verdes—” that must be the name of the cartel “—to the both of us, but Pedro insisted on finishing his education.” Emotion tugged at the cold man's words, and Jess wanted to understand the love of a brother strong enough to kill for. But it just made her cold all over.

Will hadn't killed for his brother. Instead, he'd sacrificed his entire life in San Diego to protect Sal—but from what? From her?

“He was only here for a visit.” Juan Carlos's gravelly voice jerked her from her memories of the other brothers. “But the raiders came in the middle of the night. Greedy and hungry for blood. They wanted my land and my money, so they blew up a corner of the fence. Pedro ran outside and was cut down by a machine gun.”

The drug lord squatted in front of her. His hand slithered into her hair, and she tried to shake off the shivers that accompanied his touch. Strong fingers fisted against her scalp, and he yanked her head up to gaze into his eyes, which were like ice.

“He was twenty-five. Just a young man, with so much left to do.” Juan Carlos's grip on her hair tightened, and she let out an involuntary wince. His lips twisted in a wicked smile, making it clear he took pleasure in her pain. “They are not innocent. And they're going to pay. And you're going to help me make them.”

She shook her head as much as his grasp allowed, fighting down the panic that was rising in her chest.

“No. I won't kill anyone.”

He flung her head to the side, the force toppling her to the carpet. She rubbed her aching shoulders and took three shaky breaths. The room smelled of lemon furniture polish and too much cologne. And captivity.

“If you won't help, then you're of no use to me.” He swooped down on her, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet before dragging her to the hall.

She flailed and kicked at him, but her feet seemed to strike the narrow walls more than flesh.

Jess screamed and yelled, hoping to draw the attention of Sergio, who had always been more kind than her own guard. But maybe even Manuel, with his angry leer, wouldn't watch her be led to her death. She just had to catch someone's attention.

Suddenly an explosion shook the walls of the house.

It was too much to hope that Juan Carlos would forget her in the commotion. Instead he dug his hand deeper into the meat of her arm, marching with more purpose toward the door at the end of the hall.

Just as he threw her into the yard at the back of the big house, three loud bangs sounded in quick succession. Clumps of mud and dirt shot over the top of the fence, and Juan Carlos swore loudly in more languages than she could count.

Men poured out of barracks like ants out of a flooded hill. Guns held tight, some charged for the front gate. Others ran in the direction of the explosions. Everyone yelled at the same time, drowning other voices out in the din.

Including her own.

Jess screamed as she lurched to her feet, hoping to remain invisible amid the chaos. But then Juan Carlos was back, his breath hot and sticky on her neck as he hauled her against his chest. His laughter rang in her ears, and all she could do was scratch at the arm wrapped around her. “Let me go! I have to find Will. Where is he?”

“Oh, he's long dead by now.”

Terror clawed at her insides. The certainty behind his words left her frozen in place.

Dear God, he can't be gone. Please, don't let him be gone.

She hadn't forgiven Will yet. At least she hadn't told him that she'd forgiven him. And she needed to.

She
wanted
to.

And now she'd never have a chance to hold him again, to wrap her arms around his waist. To kiss him.

Tears streaked down her cheeks as Juan Carlos dug sharp fingernails into her skin.

She cried, not for herself, but for the man she had loved, the one who had stayed in her heart for ten years.

Now she'd lost him.

Forever.

A sob escaped her throat as Juan Carlos pushed her to the ground. From the back of his waistband, he produced a long, lethal handgun and leveled it at her head.

“You've been more trouble than you're worth.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her fists to her mouth and waited for the last sound she'd ever hear.

FOURTEEN

W
ill landed within the compound walls, his knees bending low to cushion the fall. His gaze darted up and down the alleyway. It was still deserted save for the shouts of men—some rushing toward him, others away.

The explosions had served to not only clear his path but also distract anyone who would try to stop him from completing his mission. He just needed to distance himself from the scene of the explosions as fast as he could. He sprinted in the direction of Jess's room, but a piercing scream stopped him in his tracks.

He knew that voice, and the fear in it sent tremors through his entire body.

Holding his breath, he waited, praying he'd hear it again so he'd know which way to go.

Jess's second scream launched him toward the big house.

As he turned a corner, he nearly slammed into a surprised field hand. Without more than a glance, Will shoved the man to the ground and kept running.

His hands shook, so he drew them into tight fists, pushing his feet faster. With his pulse pounding in his ears, he forced himself beyond what he'd even thought possible.

Lord, please let me be in time.

He had to find her. Had to save her.

Because even if he couldn't be with her, he had to know that she was out there. That her smile was still contagious and her laughter was still filling a room. Somewhere.

Rounding the back of the big house, he caught sight of Jess kneeling on the ground. Juan Carlos held a gun leveled at her head.

Will saw only the weapon. He lunged for it.

It fired with a crack, and everything inside Will burst forth. He wrestled with Juan Carlos, who punched his head. It didn't slow him down. The adrenaline wiped out any pain from his injuries. Grabbing the kingpin by the shirt, Will slammed him to the grass and pressed his knee into his chest. Fear-filled eyes bugged out, and Will just pushed harder. The other man's mouth moved, but Will couldn't hear anything beyond the thudding of his own heart.

He popped Juan Carlos with a right jab to the chin, which knocked him out cold.

Will immediately looked around for Jess, who lay on the ground, her arms and legs splayed. A dark stain marred her light blue shirt.

Had she been hit by the bullet? His throat closed and his heart stopped.

The entire world ceased spinning as he crawled to her, pressing a hand to the sticky mess at her side. If he could put enough pressure on the wound, he could keep her alive. He just had to keep her alive.

Her lashes fluttered, finally revealing clear eyes filled with...he couldn't quite put his finger on the emotion there. Remorse, maybe. But not pain.

“Are you hit?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

Lifting his hands, he inspected the mud caked there. The only blood on his fingers was his own. The stain on her shirt, and now on his hands, was mostly just the grimy remnants of the December rains she'd rolled in.

Relief washed over him, and he was able to breathe again. He sat back on his heels, cradling her in his arms and holding her tight against his chest. Pressing his nose to her hair, he inhaled her warmth. Her living, breathing warmth.

“I thought I'd lost you there for a second.”

She wrapped an arm around his middle and snuggled into his embrace. Her hands roved over his arms and shoulders. “You're alive.”

“You sound surprised.” He leaned away enough to get a good look into her face and to catch a stilted nod and pinched eyes.

“Yes. No. Juan Carlos said you were dead, and I thought—I thought I would never see you again. I thought I'd never get to tell you...” She dived back into Will's arms, a damp pool of heat spreading across his shirt.

Rubbing gentle circles on her back, he whispered words of comfort. Nonsense that he hoped she understood, because he had only an inkling of what it really meant.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true. He knew what he was saying, if not in so many words.

I love you.

He just wasn't free to tell her that.

And this was the last time he'd get to hold her like this, heart to heart. His pulse matched her tempo, speeding up with every tremble of her shoulders, every silent sob. She fit against him as if she'd been made just for his arms, just for his love.

Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he whispered, “We're okay. And we're going to go home.”

She didn't look up, and he almost missed her response. “Together?”

If only he could tell her yes.

His pulse quickly outpaced hers, until all he could hear was every individual beat of his heart.

Then the beat grew louder, a thunder that no longer came from inside him. It whirled around them, the wind pressing them to the ground. He didn't even need to look over his shoulder at the giant green beast to recognize the distinctive sound of a Chinook.

The cavalry had arrived.

* * *

Even as a beautiful black woman in a blue DEA jacket and a tall man in battle dress uniform ran toward them, Jess didn't loosen her grip on Will. He tried to lean away, but she'd latched on so tightly that she just moved with him.

“Willie G!”

Responding to the call, Will scooped her up and ran toward the two new arrivals. Behind them were even more men in camouflage, herding confused cartel guards into the courtyard.

“Cubby!” Will's greeting made the tall sailor's ears turn pink, but he clapped Will on the shoulder with enough force to topple a smaller man. “Are you hurt, ma'am?”

It took Jess several seconds to realize that the man was speaking to her. She tried to respond, but her tongue refused to obey.

Before she could get anything out, Will answered for her. “Let's get her checked out, just to be safe.”

“No.” The single word took a ridiculous amount of effort. “I'm fine.” Just shaken. And scared. And completely unsure what exactly was going on.

But it was too late to argue. Already the man called Cubby—who looked far too broad to have acquired such a cute nickname—was running sure but gentle fingers down her arms and legs. He cupped her neck and prodded the back of her scalp, which sent shards of pain around her head. She winced and pulled away.

“Did that hurt, ma'am?”

“Jess.” She sighed and burrowed into Will's shoulder. If only she could just stay there forever. Then the pain at the base of her skull would subside, and she'd always be cared for. Always protected.

Always with the man she loved.

The grade-school-teacher look on Cubby's face broke, a smile full of straight, white teeth taking its place. “Yes, ma'am—Jess.”

The DEA agent came to join them. “How about you, Willie? That gash on your head looks pretty nasty.”

Will's chuckle vibrated Jess's shoulder. “You'll notice that Cub didn't bother looking to see if I was injured first. Straight for the girl. Every time.”

Will began walking again, making no motion to set her down, which was just fine with Jess. She wasn't sure her legs would carry her, anyway.

“Hey, I figured you'd take care of yourself. You never let me look at your stuff, anyway.”

“Maybe I'll let you stitch me up this time. It's been bleeding all day.”

Cubby chuckled and nodded as they reached the chopper and Will stepped on board. Squatting, he lowered Jess to a bench seat along the wall.

The radio on the agent's belt squawked, and she picked up it up and mumbled something into it. “Backup is on the way. We'll be out of here soon.”

“Wait.” Jess pulled herself away from the wall, her head still spinning. “The toxin. It's still in the lab.”

“We'll get it.”

“Don't open the container.”

The agent nodded, hurried outside and ordered someone to retrieve the deadly package.

Will sat down next to Jess, his hand resting on hers as Cub knelt in front of him. Opening a white medical kit, the tall man swabbed at the blood oozing over Will's ear.

“I didn't expect to see you here.” Will flinched, and Cub laughed.

“You're a bad liar.” He dug back into his supplies. “You knew I'd be here. It's what best friends do.”

Jess's heart skipped a beat. So this was Luke. Will's new best friend.

Will's gaze swung to meet hers, and there was something akin to an apology in his eyes. He'd said the words over and over, but apparently he felt the need to express them again.

“McCoy was getting itchy for some word, so I talked him into letting me join the DEA team tracking your GPS.”

“How'd you know the XO sent me down here?”

Luke shrugged and tipped his head in the direction of the agent who had just left. “Amy told me you asked her to get you kidnapped by some drug cartel. That's pretty crazy, even for you. I figured something was up. You'd never take off without a good reason.”

Will squeezed Jess's fingers, and her stomach lurched. She yanked her hand into her lap, away from his warmth and any reminder that she suddenly didn't fit in, as the men bantered.

“Meet the XO's daughter.”

Luke's expression would have been funny under any other circumstance. His Adam's apple bobbed, and he blinked four times, his gaze bouncing between her and Will. For a moment it looked as if he was going to jump to his feet and salute. Thankfully, he stayed on his knees. “Petty Officer Second Class Luke Dunham, ma'am.”

She nodded. “Jess McCoy. Nice to meet you.”

“The next thirteen hours passed in a blur, and Jess remembered only bits and pieces of them.

DEA agent Amy Delgado had returned to the chopper carrying the sealed black box that contained the Morsyni powder. Shortly after, two smaller choppers had arrived with backup, although Juan Carlos, El Jefe and the other henchmen had long since been detained. The new arrivals swept the jungle at Will's suggestion and found Arturo and Raul still struggling to get free.

Amy had to stay on the ground, cleaning up the mess, working with the local authorities and identifying who could be prosecuted for international crimes.

As she hopped out of the chopper's cargo bay, she waved. “There's a military transport headed from the U.S. Embassy in about an hour. They've saved you three a spot on it.”

“Thank you, Amy.” Will shook her hand. “Your timing was great. I'm glad you found us.”

She nodded. “It was a close one. We couldn't narrow in on you because the jungle is so dense in this area. The cell towers are miles away, and we never would have located you if you hadn't set off those explosions.”

Will just shrugged, as if it was all part of a day's work. And for him, it probably was.

“There's an office at the front of the admin building next to the big house. The desk along the north wall is packed with ledgers, and I think I saw a flight book in there. It might help you make your case.”

She smiled, gave a thumbs-up and ran off just as the helicopter rotors began their rhythmic thumping.

It was too loud in the bay of the chopper to talk, so Jess settled between Will and Luke and leaned her pounding head against the mesh netting over her seat. Before she knew it they were on the transport plane headed for San Diego.

As Will buckled himself into a jump seat, he finally smiled. Although streaks of dark red still clung to his hair, his face was mostly clean thanks to Luke's handiwork. “Looks like you're going to make it home in time for Christmas,” Will said.

Right. Christmas.

It had seemed so important just a few days before. Jess had longed to be home to celebrate with her dad.

But now she realized that meant watching Will walk away, and she just wasn't sure she could survive that again.

Whether it was Luke's presence or the crashing adrenaline, they didn't speak during the seven-hour flight home. Jess sat and stared at her folded hands, wondering how she was going to manage to say goodbye. After a few hours, she sneaked a peek at Will, who sat with his head back, eyes closed. His shoulders rose and fell in the slow tempo of a man finally able to rest.

He was so handsome, even with a smear of mud from his chin to the corner of his eye. So peaceful now. So secure.

She was safe with him. He'd rescued her, just as he'd said he would.

But he hadn't made her any promises beyond Panama.

Somehow it didn't stop her heart from aching for a future that he didn't want. One where he never took off.

It was Luke who finally broke the silence. Sitting on her other side, he leaned in, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the humming engines of the massive cargo plane. “He talks about you a lot.”

Her head spun toward the baby-faced SEAL. “He does?”

“It's always, ‘Jess did this. Jess used to do that.'” He nudged her elbow with his own and grinned. “I always wondered what kind of girl could stick with a bum like that for so long.”

Her neck burned, and she pressed a hand to her throat. “He said you taught him how to pick a lock.”

“Of course. Of all the things we've done, that's the one he tells everyone about. Makes me sound like a two-bit thief.”

“No. Not at all. He just—he said it helps you relax.”

A corner of Luke's mouth pulled to the side as his forehead wrinkled. “I suppose. We all have our own ways of dealing with the stress of the job. Some of the guys play video games. Some work out all the time. I guess I like some time with just me and a lock.”

“What's Will's?” As soon as the words were out, she wished she could take them back. She shouldn't have asked. She didn't need to know.

But mostly she wished she already knew.

“Will?” Luke grunted. “Mostly he just talks about family dinners and his grandma's enchiladas. And after a particularly rough mission, he'll talk about this cute brunette who used to sit next to him at the table and talk him into midnight swimming.”

Her face blazed, and she had to look back at her knees. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, but she refused to be their victim. Just because Will remembered her, talked about her, didn't change anything.