Someone Like Her (23 page)

As she listened to Logan, her belief that she could overcome anything Jake was facing fell. Because of the decision he’d made to come to her rescue, Jake believed—maybe rightly so—that he was responsible for Rick’s death.

Because he hadn’t stepped off the plane with the rest of the team, their contact had spooked and it had all gone south from there. Worse, according to Logan, it had been Jake’s decision not to call off the mission when he realized Rick wasn’t ready to be back in the field. If it hadn’t been for her, Jake would’ve been on the plane with his team.
Stupid, stupid Maria.
Why did she have to go searching for a father who’d never tried to find her?

The guilt of what Jake was going through because of her, the memory of Fortunada’s hands groping her, and the too-peaceful face of Rick lying in his coffin while his father stood over him and wept, leveled a hard punch to her abdomen. Her stomach heaved and she ran out of the room, barely making it to the bathroom before losing her lunch into the porcelain bowl.

“It’ll all be all right, sweetie. There now, let me help you.”

Maria lifted from her bend over the toilet and leaned into Dani’s warmth. “It’s my fault. Oh, God, Dani, it’s my fault Rick was killed. How can Jake ever forgive me or himself?”

Dani brushed Maria’s hair from her face. “No, you can’t think that way. Let me have Mrs. Jankowski bring us up some tea, and we’ll have ourselves a little talk about men and why they get these notions in their heads. Okay?”

Maria nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait for you on your deck.” Logan and Dani had a deck outside their bedroom with a beautiful view of the Gulf, and Maria stretched out on a chaise. Shaded by the deck’s
roof, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the waves hit
ting the shore as a soft, warm breeze blew over her. She hadn’t slept well the past few nights, and as she felt herself dozing off, she realized she should have come out here to sleep.

Yawning, she opened her eyes to find Dani in the opposite chaise, nursing baby Evan. On the table between them was an empty mug and a glass of red wine. She sat up and stretched.

“I thought we were both having tea.”

Dani chuckled. “That was three hours ago, sweetie. It’s wine o’clock, and although I can’t have any while nursing my little man here, no reason you can’t.”

“Wow, three hours? I didn’t mean to do that.” Dani called both her and Logan “sweetie,” but when she used the endearment with her husband, there was a different sound to it. More intimate, softer. It was wrong to envy their love for each other, but she did.

“I’m guessing you needed it. Haven’t been sleeping too good, have you?”

“No, I’m so worried about Jake, and wish I hadn’t gone looking for a father, and . . . and stuff.” She’d almost said, “And if I hadn’t been so pathetically needy wanting a parent who loved me, Jake would have been on the plane with his team when he was supposed to be.” Everything might have gone down the way it was supposed to then. Nothing could change the fact that the blame for the screwed-up mission pointed right at her.

She picked up the glass and took a sip of the rich red wine. Dani grew up in a loving home with parents who adored her, and one where money was never a problem. Even though she knew Logan and Maria’s life story, she could never understand the heartache of having a mother like Lovey Dovey, nor what it would have meant to Maria to find a father who wanted her.

“You’re blaming yourself, Jake’s blaming himself, and you’re both wrong,” Dani said. “That’s going to get you both nowhere.” She shifted Evan, who’d fallen asleep, into the crook of her arm and buttoned her blouse.

Maria pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the tears pooling in her eyes. “If that’s true, then Jake and I need each other, we need to be together so we can help each other through this. If he loved me, maybe he’d see it differently, but he doesn’t and he doesn’t want me anywhere near him. How can he not resent me for his not getting on that plane? Jamie said Jake thinks he doesn’t deserve me, but I don’t really get that. I’m just me, Maria, nothing special.”

“Oh, he loves you, sweetie, believe me. You can see it in his eyes every time he looks at you.”

“If that’s true,” and she wasn’t sure she believed it, “then what’s his problem?”

Dani lifted her gaze to the ceiling and shook her head. “Between you, and Logan, and now Jake, I really should’ve majored in psychology.” She reached across the small table and stroked her fingers down Maria’s cheek. “You’re an amazing girl. You’re beautiful, inside and out, you’re soon to be a lawyer, and you’re a partner in a business usually only inhabited by men. You can change a nickel into gold just by playing around in the stock market, and there’s nothing a computer can hide from you. And you claim you’re nothing special? Get real, Maria, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. It isn’t becoming.”

Maria bit back an angry retort finishing the last of her wine. As Dani’s words sunk in, she realized her sister-in-law was right. She was holding her very own private pity party, and it was getting her nowhere. Nor had she ever listed all her accomplishments like Dani had just did. Not bad for a girl with her background.

Gently rocking her baby, Dani continued. “As to Jake’s problem, I’d say Jamie called it right. After losing a man on his watch, Jake doesn’t think he deserves to be happy, and you’re his happy. Men have this pride thing going, Maria. When they screw up, they don’t handle it well. Not that he screwed up, but he believes he did.”

“So what do I do about it?”

“You do what Dani did with me. You get into his mind so deep, he can’t get you out of it.”

Maria craned her neck and peered up at her brother. “You been back there eavesdropping all this time?”

“Nah, not that much into girl talk, but my advice is to get in his face and don’t take no for an answer. He’ll come around.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Love you, brat, but I’m missing my wife and son, so I’m stealing them away.”

After they left, Maria considered all that was said and decided to give Jake one more day before she descended on him. It was a hard decision to make, because she felt so strongly that he needed her and she wanted nothing more than to jump in her car and head for St. George Island.

She tried not to let it bother her that Jake had talked to Logan but not her. Her logical mind knew the men had a bond no one outside the team could understand. Sometimes one of them could just grunt and the rest would nod their heads as if a full conversation had just taken place. But it tore at her heart that Jake preferred solitude to being with her when he was hurting.

Logan had reacted the same way when Evan had been killed. Even though he hadn’t made the mistakes Jake had, he still took on the burden of allowing it to happen. She had witnessed firsthand her brother’s withdrawal when he returned from Afghanistan. So, if Logan had done everything right and had still had a hard time of it, what did it mean for Jake when he’d made decisions that he believed resulted in getting a team member killed?

She feared it was something he’d never get over, but she was going to take Logan’s advice and refuse to take no for an answer.

Her brother better know what he was talking about.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Y
ou in place, Elaine?”

“Eyes on the back door,” Stewart whispered into his headset. “All’s quiet back here. No Tangos in sight. Headed your way now.”

“Good. Tennessee, ready to rock and roll?”

The silence stretched and Jake shifted, staring through his night goggles into the shadowed doorway behind him. The watery green image of Bayne’s body was the only thing visible, not whatever expression might be on his face. He needed to see Tennessee’s eyes, see if they held fear and panic in them. If so, he’d immediately call off the mission, and he and Elaine could come back later after making a new plan. Just as he took a step back, his headset crackled to life and he paused.

“Ah . . . yes, sir. I’m right behind you, Buchanan . . . Tiger.”

Dammit, Tennessee knew better than to use their names on a mission. A moment of indecision stilled him. By the time he and Elaine made it back, it would be close to dawn and there would be people on the streets. Less risk to go in now. He’d just keep a close eye on Tennessee.

“He gonna be okay?” Elaine whispered, sidling up to Jake with his hand over the mouthpiece of his headset.

Jake shoved his mouthpiece aside. “That’s the question of the day.” He glanced back to see Tennessee push away from the doorway and head their way. “You thinking we should shut this down? Me and you come back later?”

A cocky grin appeared on Elaine’s face. “Hell, no. We’re here and it’s a good plan. Let’s get this thing over with so we can go home. He’ll be fine.”

Ignoring his misgivings, Jake nodded as he pulled his mouthpiece back into place. “Show time.”

They’d brought glass cutters, but the window was unlocked, allowing them to slip inside. Holding up a fisted hand, Jake paused to get his bearings. The room on the main floor held no furniture except for a two-foot-tall table covered with remnants of what Jake assumed was that night’s dinner. Dozens of pillows were scattered around, along with numerous rolled-up prayer rugs. In a far corner was a rustic kitchen with an open fire pit for cooking.

The stairs leading to the bedrooms were at the back wall. “Careful you don’t trip on anything,” he whispered as he led his team across the room.

A snort from Elaine sounded in his ear. “This ain’t my first rodeo, Tiger.”

Jake lifted his hand above his shoulder and gave Stewart the finger. Admittedly, that was a stupid thing to say to men experienced in clandestine operations, but he was on edge, too much so. He’d been on missions far more complicated than this one without a second thought, but this was the first time he had doubts about one of his teammates. He would have been happier if it had been Tennessee making the snarky comment.

Call it off,
a voice whispered in his mind. Shutting down all distracting thoughts, he headed up on silent feet. At the top, he motioned for Tennessee to position himself on the last stair, the safest place for him. “Tennessee, stay here and watch our backs.”

Bayne nodded and pressed himself into a crouch against the wall. Toe to heel, Jake moved to the first door with Elaine right behind him. Easing it open, he quickly scanned the room to see three beds occupied by bearded men. He stepped back, gently pulling the door closed, then lifted three fingers, letting Stewart know how many Tangos were inside.

They moved down the hall to the second room, and he breathed a soft sigh of relief that their quarry was the sole occupant. Stupid idiots should’ve posted guards downstairs and at least one with Sinclair. This was going to be a piece of cake after all.

Elaine took up a position in the doorway as Jake moved to the bed and placed his hand over the kid’s mouth. Chad startled when Jake shook him, his eyes darting frantically around before settling on Jake.

Jake put his mouth next to Sinclair’s ear. “We’re here to take you home. Don’t talk, okay?” He nodded, and Jake signaled Elaine to keep an eye on the kid while he dressed. Moving to the computer he’d spied upon entering, Jake scooped up all the memory sticks in sight and shoved them into the empty pouch at his waist. Taking a thumb drive from his pocket, he pushed it into a slot in the system’s unit and uploaded a virus, wiping out all the files.

Time to get the hell out of this place. The kid was dressed and standing still in the middle of the room, and Jake glanced at Elaine, who nodded, giving the all clear. Pointing to his feet while putting a finger across his lips to tell Sinclair to walk quietly, Jake moved behind the boy to follow him out. Elaine gave another nod and stepped into the hallway.

“Mother fucking bastards!”

Why the hell was Tennessee screaming? Elaine backed up and Jake pushed Sinclair against his teammate, then slid around the doorway just as gunfire erupted.

“Tennessee’s down! Get the kid out of here, Elaine.”

My fault. My fault. My fault.
Jake struggled to find his gun but he was tied up. When had that happened? Jerking against his restraints with all his strength, he came free and fought his way up, but his feet were entangled in something and he fell on his face.

Gasping for air as he lay with his cheek pressed against the nylon floor of his tent, awareness filtered into his brain. Every damn night since he’d returned, the nightmare had come, causing him to relive the operation in minute-by-minute detail. Some nights, the dream stopped at the sound of gunfire, and other times, it continued on to the end, forcing him to stare into Tennessee’s dying eyes as he held his teammate in his arms.

It didn’t matter. Asleep or awake, he could see the accusation in Bayne’s eyes as the life faded from them. “You should’ve called it off, Tiger,” they said.

He rolled onto his back and kicked his feet clear of the sheet. Within an hour of returning to his condo after the funeral, the walls had closed in on him and he’d known he couldn’t stay. Unsure where to go, only that wherever he ended up there could be no suffocating walls, he’d thrown a tent and a few supplies into his car and somehow found himself at the state park.

Through the open flap of his tent, a single ray of the rising sun fell on the unopened bottles of scotch. He’d resisted drinking even though on his aimless drive before ending up at the park, he’d stopped and bought three bottles, choosing scotch because he hated the stuff and figured he’d be less likely to drink them than cases of beer.

The throbbing in his leg where the bullet went through made itself known and, to hell with it, he reached for one of the bottles. Finding it impossible to drink while flat on his back, he sat up and poured the burning liquor down his throat straight from the bottle.

“Go away,” he said to Tennessee’s eyes, and drank some more. The edges of his vision blurred and he held up the scotch to see almost half of it was gone. If he could get blind drunk—was there such a thing?—then he wouldn’t be able to see anything, especially dying eyes. He drank some more.

The last time he’d gotten drunk, Maria had come for him. Would she come this time? Nah. “She wouldn’t want a man who gets people killed,” Tennessee whispered in his ear. That certainly called for another drink. This stuff wasn’t so bad once you got used to it, he thought as he pushed his pillow behind him, stilling at the hard press of cold metal under his palm.

He lifted his gun and turned the barrel toward himself, staring down into the black hole. All his mistakes in judgment and what he’d lost because of them stared back at him. The loss of a teammate headed the list, Maria a close second. Then there was his self-respect and his job, the respect of the boss and the rest of the team. With no job, he’d lose his condo—and on and on it went.

Why bother living?

His finger lightly stroked the trigger as Tennessee’s eyes danced in his blurred vision, delighted with this turn of events. “Jesus,” he swore and threw the gun across the tent. It bounced against the soft wall and landed halfway back to him.

“Lucky the damn thing didn’t go off.” That he’d even carelessly thrown a loaded weapon scared him. He pulled on a pair of board shorts, then grabbed the Glock. Hurriedly dismantling it before he got stupid again, he walked down to the beach and into the Gulf. Swimming out as far as he dared, he dropped the pieces to the ocean floor in scattered bits. As drunk as he was, he figured it was only because of his SEAL training that he didn’t drown.

That night, Jake strode along the edge of the water, the moon bright enough to allow him to avoid stepping on the jellyfish stranded and dried up from the day’s hot sun. The sand under his feet was hard packed, and he could walk miles and miles over it—something he’d done every night in an effort to stay ahead of the nightmares chasing him.

The air was balmy and a nice breeze cooled his face. It was a perfect night for a lovers’ stroll. Yet, he was alone.

By choice.

The temptation to call Maria, to ask her to come to him, had teased him since he’d pitched his tent under the stand of scrub oaks. He’d resisted, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes, possibly even disgust. At the funeral, he’d not dared to look at her, so he didn’t know what was in them. If he could tell her one last thing, it would be how much it meant to him when she’d slid her hand into his at Rick’s service. He wasn’t sure he’d have gotten through it without her beside him. That was Maria, though, just being there as a friend, no more to it than that.

Ahead of him, a sea turtle lumbered out of the Gulf and made her way across the sand to a place she deemed perfect to lay her eggs. He stopped to witness the marvel of a mother starting new life. By tomorrow night, the Turtle Patrol would have the area taped off with signs warning against molesting the nest.

For a few magical minutes, he watched her dig a hole and then back her tail up to it. He tried to count each egg and thought she’d laid at least a hundred. Somewhere he’d read only one in a thousand made it to adulthood. If he had any luck in him, he’d wish that all these did.

But he was the wrong man to be wishing for anything—or to be asking God to answer any prayers of his. He had no right to ask for any favors, especially for the love of a woman he didn’t deserve.

The mama turtle scooped sand over her nest hole with her back flippers, then plodded her way back into the water, leaving her babies alone to survive—or not. After she was long out of sight, Jake walked to the disturbed sand and dug a crater around the area with the toes of one foot to make it easy for the Turtle Patrol to find the nest.

Sometimes, life just kept tripping on, whatever one wished, but maybe he’d saved a hundred or so little turtle lives tonight. It was far from making up for the mistakes he’d made, though. Too bad a circle in the sand wouldn’t bring his teammate back.

He turned and headed back to camp where he planned to test his theory that scotch could keep the nightmares at bay. But first, he had to make a phone call and accept the job offer from Grayson Services International, based in San Diego. It was about as far away as he could get from Maria without leaving the country.