by Roze, Robyn
“Mick Torres,” she blurted with conviction at the now empty seat across from her. Then she stood and turned to him.
He waited, his back to her like a mighty shield.
“You didn’t just save my daughter that night. You saved me from a loss I’m not sure I could have survived.”
His head dropped a bit, and he glanced back with a slight nod of acknowledgment. “Be ready to go after lunch.”
The sweep of cool ocean air chilled her skin as she brushed away a tear and watched him trudge away, disappearing into the shadows.
Chapter 13
The bird’s-eye view from the helicopter offered no clues to Shayna’s latest location, an indistinguishable slice of land that popped up on the ocean’s horizon. The pilot landed on an airstrip that lay concealed among the rolling blanket of thick green forests surrounding it. In short order, an attendant rushed down from the sun-soaked plane parked there to retrieve Shayna’s luggage and stow it inside.
After little sleep and no appetite for breakfast or lunch, the gnaw of hunger scraped in her belly and on her nerves. She refocused and smoothed the silky fabric of what was no doubt a recent purchase made by someone for her: a beaded-halter jumpsuit that fit her curves far better than any other garment she had worn in the past five days.
She now hesitated at the airstair of the private jet, eclipsed in Mick’s towering shadow. The helicopter they arrived in still waited at a distance on the tarmac, blades rotating.
Why?
She managed another furtive glance to the noisy chopper. Then she looked up at the big man standing in front of her, aviators shielding his eyes. “You’re not coming, are you?”
His lips thinned with a tight head shake. “My job is done. As soon as this bird gets airborne, you’re outta the hot zone. You’ll be safe.”
“Then why do I need a new identity if I’ll be safe after this?”
“It’s only a precaution, probably overkill. But we’re covering all our bases and then some. You’ll still have protection, but you won’t need me.”
You won’t need me…Four words that could not ring less true.
After everything he had already done for her, for Danielle, how could she expect him to do more?
But she did.
“You’re wrong. I need you to help Sean. That’s where you’re going, right?”
“Yeah, it’s time to get this knocked out once and for all.”
She paused for a moment, picturing all the terrible things she didn’t want to imagine.
“It helps to know that you’ll have each other’s backs.” A sober smile curved her lips, eyes glistening.
He pushed his sunglasses up out of the way, then held out his hand. The same hand he hadn’t been able to extract from hers fast enough last night. “It’s been nice getting to know you—Julia Howard,” he said, referencing her temporary identity with a roguish grin. “We’ll all be seeing each other again, real soon.” He bent closer to her, his expression serious. “You can count on it.”
She gave his hand a firm squeeze and pushed up onto her toes, inches from his face. “I’m holding you to that promise, Mick Torres.”
He chuckled, sunglasses shading his brown eyes again, then hooked his thumb toward the Gulfstream. “The faster that bird gets in the air, the faster I can get your cranky husband’s ass outta the ringer.”
“Consider me gone.” Her hand slipped from his and she climbed the passenger stairs without delay.
Once inside the cabin, she turned around, the stairs she had scaled now making their own ascent, with Mick standing in the thinning gap down below. With a two-finger salute, he signaled farewell before the door pocketed into the plane and sealed the exit tight.
“Well, it’s about damn time,” a familiar male voice hollered behind her, footfalls getting closer.
Shayna whipped around, slack-jawed at the sight of her jean-clad brother, his broad shoulders and muscular arms stretching his navy Henley. He squeezed her in a bear hug before she could make sense of what was happening.
“What’re you doing here?” she said, the words garbled against his chest.
“Jesus, a guy could get a complex with that kind of reception. I thought you’d be happy to see me. Someone else sure thought it’d be a nice surprise.”
Her worried eyes flicked around him to the two men sitting stone-faced at the back of the compartment: her protection.
She zeroed in on Scotty, her tone hushed. “You have no idea what you’re saying. You shouldn’t be here.”
“He wants to do something nice for you. Let him. Stop busting his nuts, for Christ’s sake.”
“Busting his—”
He yanked her close and whispered for her ears only. “Let the man take care of business, so he can leave this shit behind him and get back to you.”
She pushed back, her shocked eyes darting between his.
“I know some things, okay? Leave it at that.”
The prospect that her brother knew anything at all about Sean’s business was reason enough to worry. Whatever he knew, it was too much.
“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked.
He circled his arm around her shoulders, ignored her question, and guided her to sit down in a private seating area with a small table between them. The attractive hostess handed him a tumbler with ice bumping around in amber liquid.
“May I get you anything, Ms. Howard?”
Her brother didn’t blink an eye at the fake name.
Shayna read the young woman’s name tag. “No, thank you, Tracey.”
“Please let me know if you change your mind.”
The perky redhead’s focus lingered on Scotty. “We’ll be taking off shortly.” The warm smiles exchanged between the two spoke of mutual attraction. Her brother had always had women eating out of his hand.
Shayna grinned despite her mood and switched her attention to the lush jungle outside her window seat. Fond memories of her wayward brother filled her head and heart. Having him near had already restored a small measure of calm she had been missing. She rested her head against the seat and sighed in understanding. That is exactly what Sean had banked on. Not to mention a familiar strategy he used with her last year when he sent Scotty back to the States to spend time with her while he laid low in Italy.
The impatient clatter of ice returned her attention to the laid-back playboy lounging across the table from her. His mussed, wavy blond hair was a color match to her own, his blue eyes coordinated with his shirt and now twinkling with all kinds of impishness. The man had no intention of ever growing up.
“Miss me?” A teasing smile played at his lips before he tipped his glass back and consumed the contents in one smooth swallow. He smacked the glass down on the tabletop and appeared to breathe invisible fire from his lungs. “Damn! That’s top shelf.”
He leaned forward on the table, arms folded, studying Shayna. “Are you gonna get the stick out of your ass so we can have some fun?”
She wanted to know what he knew, or what he thought he knew about this trip, and about Sean. “Why the travel companions?” She craned her neck around to look at the two burly men, then refocused on Scotty. “I mean bouncers.”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You mean Moe and Curly?” His eyes creased at the joke, hand swatting away her absurd question. “Tour guides. That’s what they are.”
Shayna scooted closer to Scotty, the shit-eating grin broadening across his scruffy, handsome face. “You are so full of shit, Scott Andrew Montgomery,” she said in a lowered tone.
His hands raised in mock surrender. “I can’t lie when the mom-gun is aimed point blank at me.” He wiggled a finger at Tracey, then aimed it down at his empty glass. “But we drew the short stick on mothers, didn’t we? Too bad for you that means using my middle name holds no magical power over me now.” His brow slanted in clear provocation.
Her middle brother joked his way through a lot of things
in life. But this would not be one of them. She sat back, tapping her fingers on the table in contemplation, tired of his avoidance techniques.
“What business do you think Sean is conducting right now?”
His levity dialed down for a moment, his expression growing curious. “What’s that?” His finger drew closer to the delicate beads stitched at the top of her jump suit. When Shayna looked down, he flicked the tip of her nose with the side of his finger.
She wanted to stop her giggle, not encourage the perpetual joker, but she failed. “My God, are you still ten?” she said, batting his hand away.
They chuckled as a fresh drink landed in front of him.
“Thanks, doll.”
Shayna caught the subtle skim of his fingers across Tracey’s.
Once the leggy hostess was out of earshot, Shayna gave her brother a stern look. “Don’t get her fired, Scotty.”
“Don’t worry. I earned my mile-high card a long time ago—many times, actually…”
Shayna lifted a hand in concession. “No details. Please.”
Scotty laughed and tossed back his second drink with the same gusto as he had the first. At least the first one she had seen since boarding the jet. She worried about him, always would. The worst part was accepting she lacked the power to change it.
He grabbed her hands and pulled her close to his now somber expression. “Don’t be mad at him for sending you away, wanting to protect you; it’s his job. Let him do it.” He patted her hand as if he had dispensed sage advice. “Dad would’ve liked him. A lot. You know that, right?”
No answer. Instead, she struggled to piece together the puzzle that was Scott Montgomery.
“Dad wanted you with a man who’d protect you.” He glanced down at their joined hands, old memories dimpling his cheek. “That was one of our biggest responsibilities when we were kids—me and Jack. If anything had happened to you, it would’ve been our asses.” He paused, tightening his focus on her as if to convey a telepathic message. “And whoever hurt you would have gotten the worst of it; trust me on that.”
His warm hands squeezed hers, kicking her pulse into higher gear at what he was hinting at knowing.
“In my book, Sean’s one of the good guys, right at the top. Dad would’ve agreed with me on that.” He shook a finger at her like it proved his point.
Shayna wasn’t so sure.
“Would Jack?”
He snorted and shook his head as if Jack didn’t count. “Please. He’s a good guy and all, but he sees the world in black and white. That’s for people who can’t face reality. They need to keep things simple, have clear labels, so their bubbles don’t pop.” His gaze narrowed, finger volleying between them. “We know different. We know a lot of life happens in the gray areas.”
Her lungs ached from the breath, and secrets, she had been holding since Frank’s death. From the dangerous world her brother appeared to have stumbled upon, no thanks to Sean. Or had Scotty been working in the ‘gray areas’ with his alleged import-export business long before her current husband entered the picture? Either way, he could not be talking about what Sean did to Frank.
Could he? She worried why and how he would know something like that.
Perhaps he was only talking about the situation in Singapore…
“You must be referring to his business dealings here.” Trepidation squeezed at her chest.
The faint shake of his head and telling set of his jaw unleashed a wave of anxiety and shame in her.
How did he know her darkest secret? How did he know what happened between Sean and Frank on that cliff top back in Mt. Pleasant?
“You’re in the way. He can’t take care of business and worry about you getting caught in the middle of it. He’d never forgive himself,” he angled closer, “and I’d never forgive him, either.”
Without warning, she slammed her hand down on the table, rattling him and the ice in his empty glass. “I’m already in the middle of it. I’ve been in the middle from the beginning without even knowing it. Distance won’t save him or me from the things he’s done. Any more than it did Frank. Any more than it will you,” she whispered in a harsh burst.
She caught her breath and tamped down the unexpected surge of emotion that had just smacked her brother, then scanned the cabin for listening ears. It was empty, except for the ‘tour guides’ seated several rows back. Then the airwaves broke open, tension crackling between the siblings, as the captain’s rote announcement directed them to prepare for takeoff.
They buckled up, staying focused on each other.
“It’s simple man code. You don’t hurt women or children. When a man breaks that code,” he shrugged, “he gets what he deserves.”
Her blood chilled at his deliberate, knowing tone.
“That doesn’t make it right, Scott.”
“See,” his finger tapped the air in front of her, “that is what you don’t understand. It’s not about what’s right to you. Anyway, it’s not your burden to carry. It’s his.”
She scoffed and directed her focus to the lush landscape sliding by and dropping away as the plane climbed higher. “That’s such bullshit and you know it,” she said without looking at him, torque pressing her tight in the seat. “The choices other people make affect us. Their choices become our burdens too.” Her eyes swung back to his. “You’re living proof of that. Look what our mother’s choice to abandon us did to you.”
His eyes widened in surprise from the unexpected verbal slap.
She unlatched her buckle, leaned across the table, and lowered her voice. “I don’t know what you think you know, or how you know it, but I find it difficult to believe that Sean would share anything of a sensitive nature—with a drunk.”
The callous declaration no sooner left her lips than remorse tugged at her heart. The stress of her upended world had left her wordless and unable to push an apology past her parted lips. Eyes dulled by the attack stared back at her, his lips twisted in a grim line. He sat quiet and still for a long moment, appearing to choose his battle.
“I know I’ve been an absentee brother and uncle for a lot of my adult life. You and Jack can kick me around all you want for that.” His finger punched against his chest. “But I’m the one Dani called about the bruises she saw on you.”
Shayna paled.
“She told me all about what went down when she and Harper announced their engagement last year. My brain isn’t so booze addled that I can’t put two and two together. Your daughter did too, by the way.” His fingers drummed angry, dueling beats on the armrests. “Let’s just say I had some suspicions about a certain someone’s end, and that your husband confirmed them for me.” His chin raised in defiance. “I happen to share a similar worldview with my brother-in-law.”
His stony gaze morphed into sharp judgment, open resentment boiling under the surface. “You know, you’ve spent a lot of your life hiding things you didn’t think other people could handle. You thought you knew better. You thought ignorance trumped the cold, ugly truth. Well, you were wrong about that. But you are right that other people’s choices affect us. Like your choice to hide our mother’s letters.”
“Scott—”
He talked over her, finger stabbing the air. “Knowing you and Jackie-boy thought I was too weak to read some goddamn letters was a real eye-opener. And reading them? Well, that was a kick in the ass. A kick I could’ve used thirty fucking years ago, thank you very much. I can only wonder how knowing now what I should’ve known back then might’ve changed my life, some of my choices.” He knocked his knuckles hard on the tabletop and pushed to his feet. “And now you can wonder the same damn thing. Because that’s your burden to carry.”
He left her alone with his parting shot and faded from view down a narrow hallway.
She processed the sting of his words, then left her seat and headed after him, indignation roiling in her chest. Following the television chatter coming from the end of the passageway, she
saw Scotty at the bar, watching the talking heads yammering on the flat screen while he made himself a drink.
Figured.
She shut the door and spotted the TV remote, turning off the sports blather. Then she aimed her wrath at him. “You have some nerve.”
He remained nonchalant, guzzled his drink, and then poured another.
“Grow up, Scott. You’ve played the part of Peter Pan long enough.” She rounded the bar, grabbed his drink before it reached his lips and dumped it in the sink. When he reached for the decanter, she swept it off the bar top, spilling the contents and shattering the crystal. “Your liver can thank me later,” she quipped.
She dug her heels in, a determined finger pressed against his chest. “You and Sean are not the only ones entitled to protect the people you love. You do it your way. I do it mine. But don’t you dare use me or those damn letters as any kind of excuse for your choices.”
She stepped closer to drive home her point. “It’s been a one-way street with you for years. You come and go from our family as you please. You’re unreachable for long periods of time. And then when you check in with us, your calls are always from some unfamiliar country code, a number that never remains in service too long.” She paused, her imagination and worry working overtime. “Jack and I love you. We’d both do anything for you if you’d ever stay around long enough to let us.”
He backed up, looking offended, then curious. “What exactly is it you and Jack want to do for me? Make me conform? Fit me into some cookie-cutter lifestyle with kids and a balloon mortgage? Send me to rehab because you think I’m a drunk?”
Shayna winced.
“You think just because I live a different kind of life from you two that I need your help. To do what? Be more like you two? I’d be bored out of my mind stuck in the same damn place my whole life, married with kids and playing by everybody else’s rules. I’ve always made it back for the important stuff: weddings, holidays, graduations.” His hands cut high in the air. “Hell, I’m silly Uncle Scotty—the fun one. My nieces and nephews love me. It’s quality over quantity, sis. Deal with it. If it’s my drinking you and Jack don’t like, tough shit. I’m in control of it. I’ve done pretty damn well for myself without any help from you two.”