by Roze, Robyn
“Yeah, we’ll blend right in, never see us coming with those on.” Sean used the cutter, clipping the cap just above the shoulder. He only indulged in this vice with the man seated across from him.
It was their thing.
“The element of surprise,” Mick said. “Hell, they’ll shit themselves and just run the other way. Easiest mission ever.” Mick grabbed another stogie for himself, and Sean slid the cutter back to him.
The men laughed some more while Sean lit the cigar with a wooden match, puffing and turning the handmade between his lips until the entire tip glowed a satisfying orange. Then he leaned back in his chair, propped his feet up on the railing, and savored the Nicaraguan beauty, with deliberate, lingering puffs. His lids dropped in pleasure, as he tipped his head back and blew an aromatic column of velvety smoke overhead. “Goddamn, brother, that’s a fucking flavor bomb.”
Mick pointed at Sean with enthusiastic jabs of agreement. “Damn right she is.”
The two sat in the comfortable silence of kindred spirits, their eyes following the freighters crawling in the distance through the hazy Strait of Singapore. The treacherous road ahead, the battle to come, playing out in both their heads. Sean snuffed out his smoke, then rose, crossing to the sun-drenched open deck. He clasped his hands behind his head, bent arms spread like wings, and soaked in the rays and the glorious view of his home: the sea. No matter where he found himself in life or in the world, whenever he was at sea he was home.
He understood and respected the complicated duality of the water lapping its hypnotic rhythm against his boat; calm one moment, dangerous the next. The fatal mistake so many made of misjudging her calm surface, only to forget the menace lurking beneath, or just over the horizon. The contrast made perfect sense to him. It always had.
Because it was him.
The briny wind teased and flapped his unbuttoned shirt against his tanned skin, and he closed his eyes in surrender to the seductive touch of his lifelong mistress, filled his lungs with her salty scent and made his reverent offering to her. Mick shuffling next to him broke the intimate spell, and he lifted his heavy lids. Looking out across the dark stretch of water, he contemplated the right words to express his conflicted instincts.
“I trust you with my life, brother. But it’s damn difficult to trust you with hers. To trust anyone with what I feel like I was put on this earth to do.”
Mick rocked on his feet; hands tucked in his back pockets. He remained quiet for a few beats, wheels turning. “You know goddamn well it’d take a fuckin’ army to get to her through me. I got her little girl away from those animals, and I’ll do the same for her.”
Sean reflected on the night Mick extracted Danielle from Hector Morales’ kidnappers. The old guilt saluted him. “It should have been me that night.”
Mick flicked a side-glance at Sean, shaking his head in disagreement. “Everything went down the way it needed to that night. You had a personal matter to take care of. A punishment best served by you.” He surveyed the cloudless sky above, palm shielding him from the burning rays. “Justice can be a jealous bitch.”
They exchanged a knowing look, then returned their scrutiny to the horizon.
“Black is going to work out. He understands what’s at stake,” Sean said.
“The pictures of his pretty girlfriend going about her day did the trick?”
Sean nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Still think he’s her kid’s father?” Mick asked.
Sean recalled the absence of a father’s name on the birth certificate, and the stricken look on Marcus Black’s face when he guessed the boy’s paternity. “I’d bet on it. And we need every bit of leverage we can get. He doesn’t need to know we’d never hurt her or his son. I just want to keep him focused.”
“Well, that’ll do it.” Then Mick snorted in disgust. “I wondered when Dix would show his hand, following you on your honeymoon. What a motherfucker.”
“It makes perfect sense. He thinks he’s found my weakness. Thinks I’ve been distracted this whole time. I’m sure he’s been chomping at the bit ever since we got rid of his partner in crime.”
Mick grunted in agreement. “He’s more bark than bite now, with Hector Morales’ rats scattered to the wind.”
“True. But a cornered animal is dangerous, and he has a lot to lose. We’ve been dancing around in this ring for a long time. He thinks he’s finally going to land a knockout punch.”
The statement drew derisive laughter from Mick. “Dix can’t sniff out a rope-a-dope even when it’s right under his nose.”
The two agreed with a satisfied fist bump.
Mick returned his gaze to the open water. “So, what’s the plan for dealing with your wife—when all hell breaks loose.”
“We’re going to work that out now.” He faced Mick, with a cautious grin. “And then we’ll tell her together.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I want you to know what you’re up against.”
Mick scratched at his head in apparent confusion. “We’re talking about a woman. Around five-eight? A hundred and forty, give or take?” He smirked. “I think I can handle that.”
Sean gripped his friend’s shoulder, then gave it a hearty slap. “Yeah, so did I.”
Chapter 4
Shayna deliberated in marked silence, gauging Sean and his friend with equal suspicion.
Both battle-tested men sat stiff-backed across from her at the circular dining table in their suite, the baby grand piano in view behind Mick, a familiar face she remembered from military and personal photos she had seen at Sean’s.
Her keen attention volleyed between the two capable men seated in obvious discomfort across the table. The aroma of expensive cigars still clung to the pair, faces colored by a day spent under the hot sun concocting the plan they had laid out to her in the preceding, lingering minutes.
Sean used the hard set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, and the challenge in his eyes to demand her acceptance, her submission in this matter. And Mick? He sat with his muscled forearms braced on the tabletop, fingers locked tight together, his thumbs tapping a nervous beat against each other. A thick, black tattoo that snaked below his T-shirt sleeve and wrapped around a big bicep, twitched. He seemed uneasy with her apparent challenge to his longtime friend and cycled cautious glances from her to Sean to his own drumming thumbs and back again.
She didn’t know much about Mick other than he and her husband went way back, childhood friends. They had also survived SEAL training together, not to mention countless missions. She learned those sparse, glossy highlights when Sean introduced them a little over an hour ago. She learned something else too: Sean enjoyed a good cigar. Not because he had told her; rather, she smelled the all-too-familiar aroma the second the colluding pair had entered the suite. A part of her was happy to learn something new about her handsome husband, and she looked forward in the years ahead to discovering more intimate details about the man she loved.
Another part of her, however, did not care for the slideshow of memories the bouquet of spicy tobacco evoked. Like the vivid recollections of her ex-husband, Frank, pulling a cigar from the humidor on his desk at home to celebrate a completed real estate project, a new business deal.
Or the birth of their daughter.
She banished the errant images and focused on Sean, trying to read him for any deception. But he was in mission mode, his rocklike surface impenetrable. No matter. She wasn’t about to let either of them off the hook with a quick nod of demure acceptance.
Of course, she understood they were the experts in this dicey situation, skilled in handling all its inherent dangers while keeping her safe. Her place on the board was that of an inconvenient civilian to be penned up away from their war games. Fair enough, her rational side conceded, but she did not have to make it easy for them. This moment would be the only opportunity to voice her concerns and opinions.
With her pr
obing stare locked onto Sean’s, she dared a question directed at his partner. “Tell me, Mick, what’s plan B?” Sean didn’t flinch under her gaze. “Anything you two are leaving out—intentionally?” She switched her penetrating focus to Mick.
“Shayna.” Sean’s tone signaled he wanted Mick left out of it. “I’ve told you everything you need to know.”
“I’m sure you have, darling.” The term of endearment that when used by her meant she was anything but endeared, and he damn well knew it. “But have you told me everything I’d want to know?”
Mick cleared his throat and parted the growing tension. “We always plan for contingencies. These situations are fluid, but we’ll be ready for whatever happens. You can count on it. I’ll keep you safe here.”
“I don’t doubt it, Mick. The fact that my husband trusts you with my safety is good enough for me.”
The sober statement brought a flash of relief to Mick’s face.
“But that’s not what I’m asking.”
His shoulders slumped at the remark.
“Is the plan you two laid out for me the real one? Or a decoy?” With those bold words, Sean rose to his feet, his dominance palpable, and Shayna wasted no time in matching his assertive stance.
Mick watched the stand-off for a few seconds, then tapped out with a smack of his hands on the tabletop. “Where’s the can in this joint,” he asked, pushing to his feet and glancing away from the silent, private war raging in front of him.
Sean pointed toward a hallway. “On the left.”
Mick made his escape without looking back.
“What the hell is this, Shayna? You promised you’d do what I asked.”
An argumentative response blistered on her tongue, as her mind, bogged down in the minutia of time and broken promises, traced the sharp edges of those niggling words he had just uttered: you promised. Her breathing quickened. What about your promise not to hurt Frank?
His shoulders lifted in question, his agitation clear. Shayna swallowed the burn of her biting answer, muddled with bothersome memories that had been stalking her peace of mind since docking in Singapore.
She broke away from his glare, crossed to the piano and leaned against it for stability. The Lion City sprawled in her unfocused sight as she concentrated on controlling her breathing, willing the retreat of the imagined crush of the walls in their spacious suite. This was not the time or place for a discussion about Frank. Too many lives were in danger, so much at stake. She needed to get a grip on her disruptive feelings and focus on what was necessary and important at this very moment.
Nothing else.
“I will.” She sounded unsteady against her best efforts. “I know I’m in the way here.”
He stood beside her, then moved in front of her, trying to capture her eyes with his.
“Shay—”
The bark of Mick’s words in the background cut off the worry in Sean’s voice.
“Hey, if we’re done here, I’m gonna head out. Make some arrangements.”
Sean nodded him away.
Had she heard an unspoken understanding between them in that last word? Arrangements regarding her? Or was she reading too much into it, too much into all of it.
She batted away Sean’s inquiring hands. “I need to get out of here.”
“What?”
“I need air. Space. Now.”
He gripped her hand. “Skydeck.”
She let him pull her through the room and out to the bank of elevators, orchids etched on the steel doors. Within a matter of seconds, the doors slid open to the panoramic view of the iconic infinity pool. Skyscrapers pierced through the haze suspended over the city. After an attendant scanned Sean’s keycard, he led her through the stream of hotel guests to find an unoccupied table under the cooler shade of potted palm trees. She sat with her back to the city and faced the South China Sea, drawing deep breaths and centering on the cloud smudged horizon beyond the cargo ships anchored and waiting in the queue. Then she dropped her lids on the overcast picture, aware of Sean’s intense gaze on her.
He leaned closer to her. “I know you’re scared, Shay.” His hands gently sandwiched one of hers, his proximity close enough that she felt his warm breath on her neck, instead of the breeze at fifty-seven floors up. “You should be. You’re smart to be scared.”
Incongruous words she had never expected any man she loved to whisper in her ear.
“It’s also why you shouldn’t be here. You would be helping me by leaving.”
Her head spun so quickly they almost collided. “No!” Noticing the attention her outburst had drawn from a nearby table, she lowered her voice. “I am not leaving you. And you are not leaving me.”
“No one is leaving anyone. It would be temporary, and you know it.”
“No. I don’t know it.” She raised her hand to stop his rebuttal. “If the worst happens, I will not be halfway around the world to hear about it on some fucking news report, again. I need to be where you are.”
He sat, quiet for a moment, reliving the same raw memory of her believing him to be dead after the Morales mission in Mexico. Understanding softened his posture. “The worst isn’t going to happen.” He stilled her shaking disagreement with his hand at her cheek and pulled her closer. “I won’t allow it. There’s too much left I want to see and do with you.”
Oh God, she would give anything if he had that kind of power.
“You can’t make a promise like that. No one can.”
The hefty weight of that ultimate truth, life’s great equalizer, brokered no space for sentimental contradiction. In their somber silence, her thoughts rolled back to the nuanced words he had spoken during one of her low points in life. She understood the declaration he made back then with so much clarity now it was almost painful to accept. I won’t answer all your questions, and you should know when not to ask them.
She got it.
After meeting Mick and gaining a sliver more insight into Sean’s other life, she knew his team’s safety was personal to him, and his to them. They were like family, perhaps more so with the life-and-death bonds they had forged in the harshest of circumstances; a family she would never be a part of. A family she needed to respect. Because they were the only ones who could help her husband close this chapter of his life.
And then give him back to her.
In the spirit of this fresh lucidity, Shayna decided not to ask him those questions that would be akin to asking him to lie to her. Asking him to betray the safety of his family, himself. She would keep her word. Stay low. Follow his and Mick’s orders. Trust them without questioning them. Acceptance of this new reality restored a measure of peace to her mind and order to her upended life.
For the first time, she detected worry clouding Sean’s face. She sensed it wasn’t about the mission—but about her. Or them. She laid her palm to his cheek, feeling his warmth and the scrape of stubble, and said the only words that mattered. “I love you.”
He breathed out as if he had been holding his breath and pressed his lips to her palm without taking his eyes from hers. “And I love you. I love our life. And I will make all this other stuff go away. For good. I promise.”
The conviction in his voice and the determination in his eyes restored a spark of hope for a future that might still be possible for them. This time, she knew he would do everything within his power to keep this promise.
Chapter 5
Sean had watched Shayna push the same prawn around on her plate for the last five minutes. Her cheeks lacked their natural blush of color, her gray eyes dulled of their usual shine.
The past week had been hard on her. He had been gone more than she liked, meeting and strategizing with his team. There were deliveries, shipments, and wire transfers to finalize and secure from the backers funding the operation. A multitude of tasks and assignments to organize and study against ever changing intel. Soon it would be green lights and pedal to the metal.
As part of the mission’s modified strategy, Marcus had been set free. Sean had scoured the agent’s file. Marcus Black was skilled, highly capable, and motivated by the instinct to survive. An acute instinct that had earned Black a target plastered on his back from the insecure senator whose orders he had wisely defied in Spain. There was no doubt in Sean’s mind that Marcus understood that the new, provisional role offered him the best chance of making it off this island alive, and of seeing that little, dark-haired boy again.
Now, Sean waited for the call he knew would come. The call that would follow the delivery of his dispatch, via Marcus, to Dix. Good ole’ Senator Dixon’s days were numbered, and Sean was eager to savor the imminent culmination of two parallel missions. One that would take down Dix. The other that would destroy men just like him. It had taken many long years of fortitude and strategy to reach this point. A significant feat that would ripple with long-lasting repercussions.
Even more important, the time had come to end this part of his life, once and for all.
He had shared little information about the mission with Shayna, except for those things pertinent to her. To his relief, she had not asked for more. Yet, he had felt her subtle withdrawal, the stacking of bricks in a wall of self-protection forming between them. A temporary defense mechanism to get her through this dangerous period.
That’s all it had better be.
The glint of candlelight on the gemstones gracing the tantalizing curve at the base of her throat stalled his train of thought. Each gem sparkled, lush and vibrant, just like her. She rarely took the delicate custom piece off. He couldn’t help the rise at one corner of his mouth from the memories of having had the colorful necklace specially made for her and then surprising her with it on the beach outside their private bungalow in Picinguaba. Every stone represented their story, he told her that day, some chapters already written and others yet to be. She had told him something like that once. And he was damn well going to hold her to it.