Safe in His Arms (32 page)

Catrina opened the door and Mandy followed her, feeling like she needed to throw up. The yacht they were on was, at least, not out to sea, but tied up to shore. They might be on the same island. She had no idea.

“Where are we?” she asked. If she was family, then…

“Molokai, but don’t worry,
chica
, we’ll leave here as soon as we dump the
Americano
and head for home.”

Not if Mandy could help it.

“And where is that
Americano
?”

Catrina glided into a luxurious sitting room, walked over to the bar and waved off to the side of the spacious room. “Down in the bottom of this thing, tied up, but don’t worry, he won’t get free.” She smiled over at Mandy like a viper when she spoke. Mandy hated snakes.

“Ah, Elisa Amanda.” The soft roll of her name in a man’s Spanish accent turned her around from where she’d been sizing up where to land her first punch on Ms Sexy.

The older guy facing her with a soft smile looked like the actor for the Dos Equis Mexican beer commercial, except that she feared this was the real deal. Or rather, the real head of a Mexican cartel powerful enough to take on the Navy’s most elite forces. This man had enough power to snap her in two without lifting a finger. She felt like she’d suddenly landed in deep water and wasn’t going to be able to swim to the surface in time to survive. This man had captured her, and, worse, Mac, a seasoned professional killer.

Behind him, two large men stood, staring at her intently. Their gazes skimmed down her tank top and BDUs before arrogantly lifting back to her face. Did they realise she had killed one of their own men? Maybe a brother or a friend.

Behind them Trigger sauntered in as if he owned the place, only next to the head of the cartel, Trigger looked like a spoilt child. She remembered how Trigger had cursed her in frustration when he’d lost his hard-on. How he’d hit her in the face and shoved her into the wall in his fit of anger.

The man next to him wouldn’t show any sign of anger, he’d simply destroy anyone who crossed him. He probably didn’t even change expression when he killed.

If he did the killing.

God, she was in trouble. And Mac was here as well. No doubt, these men wanted him dead. What had Catrina said? Trigger would take care of him.

“Your long-lost niece, huh, Manuel?” Trigger motioned with his drink in a kind of sarcastic salute.

She jerked in surprise even though Catrina had said this just a moment before.

The older gentleman—monster—turned to Trigger and she saw the hardness fill his eyes. She was used to men of power. Her brother had been strong, even as a child. He’d grown into a powerful Navy SEAL before his death. Mac possessed enough bad-assed attitude to make dealing with him frustrating at times. But this man wore his power like other men wore the knowledge that they could walk upright. He simply oozed something that frightened her.

“Ah, yes, Daniel, you have done well by us.” His tone was dark, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice. He poured himself another shot of amber liquor from a crystal decanter, raised the drink to his lips, and drank it down in one long swallow.

Mandy turned from Trigger, hoping he would get so drunk he passed out.

“Why have you brought me here?” she asked Manuel Gonzales, not willing to stand around while Mac suffered. She had to think of a plan. If this man thought her family, maybe she could use that. She knew the culture, knew how weak women appeared to them. She made sure to look tired, and let her fear, the very real fear she had tried to hide, show on her face.

Manuel looked over at her, seemingly concerned by her question. “I am your uncle. Your father was my youngest brother. We are family, you and I. I brought you here to give you safety, within our
familia
.” His eyes narrowed and shifted to Catrina, who had been playing with a curtain, obviously bored with them. “Catrina, have you offered Amanda refreshments?”

Catrina huffed and shook her head. “No, I brought her here, as you requested.”

“Here, my dear, come, sit and let me soothe your fears.” He gestured to a gold silken couch under the open windows of the deck. The place oozed elegance and money. The floors gleamed, along with every other wooden piece of furniture in the room. The brass fixtures shone under the glow from a hundred lights made to look like flames on the crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling.

He appeared so cultured, so gentlemanly that she felt sickened by him even more, but she walked carefully to the couch, feeling like she might break in two from all the tension rushing through her. At least this man was sane. Incredibly powerful, obviously concerned for his
familia
, but not insane. And how messed up was it that she felt safer with the mafia boss than near the sicko Navy SEAL?

“Thank you, I’m so tired. What was that?” She rubbed her hand over her upper arm where a bruise showed where they’d shot her with the tranquiliser. “What did they use?” She pretended to get a little weak, sitting suddenly on the silky couch behind her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just—I don’t feel well. I don’t understand why you didn’t simply find me. Why did you have to shoot me?”

Manuel brushed a hand against her forehead, frowning in concern. “You are warm, I fear you are still feeling ill, my dear.”

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 squeezed back, so thankful she was alive he was nearly choked up again.