by Leroux, Lucy
Ethan’s air cut off abruptly. Grunting, he tried to slip the strap over his head, but he ended up breaking it. Taking in a burning lungful of air, he felt his shield clatter to the floor just as Ethan swung his leg up. A strong kick to the guy’s head, and he was done.
“Shit.” Ethan coughed, rubbing his neck. Bleary-eyed, he looked around as two of his men ran to him.
“Where’d she go?” one asked.
Ethan rubbed his neck and pivoted. The girl was gone. In the fight, she had somehow squeezed past him.
He stumbled past the agents, leaving them to deal with the fallen man while he called out hoarsely in Russian. When there was no answer, he tried Czech, French, and finally Spanish for the hell of it.
The girl had managed to make it outside. He made it to the door leading to the deck when he spotted her at the railing.
Ethan hailed her, raising his hand. She turned around, her eyes wide and alarmingly empty. It didn’t matter what language he spoke. The look in her eye was wild. She was beyond understanding anyone.
He approached her slowly, his hands up. He murmured words in a soft voice, hoping his tone would register and she would realize he wasn’t a threat. More agents joined them at the side of the boat, but he signaled them to stop.
He was only two steps from being able to grab her when she climbed over the railing and jumped over the side.
“Fuck.” There was no time to strip down. Ethan flipped the safety on his gun before taking it off. He slipped off his sidearm, then handed it to the nearest agent.
Ethan hit the water seconds later, stroking hard to where the poor girl thrashed in an uncoordinated effort to stop from sinking.
How fucking scared did she have to be to jump into the water when she didn’t know how to swim? Ethan had never been a lifeguard, but he had seen a few water rescues in movies. Reaching the girl, he overpowered her, tipping her head back and holding her arms so she couldn’t take him down with her.
Her continued struggles made the swim back hellish, but Ethan somehow managed to get them around the stern through sheer brute strength.
He didn’t have to shout for help. As soon as he was close enough, multiple arms reached out to haul them out of the water.
The next few minutes were a blur. A woman who ID’d herself as social services came over to whisk the girl away. Someone tossed a blanket over him and he bitched them out, yelling to save them for the girls.
“They’re all set,” Jason assured him, emerging from the mess of law enforcement that had taken over the dock. “The ambulances pulled up right after you went back aboard.”
“And the ship’s crew?” Ethan asked, wiping his face with a towel.
“We’re about to load them up in that pair of paddy wagons over there.” His partner gestured in the other direction, but Ethan was busy glaring daggers at the crew.
He knew it might cost him big, but it didn’t matter. Ethan was soaking wet and a hairbreadth from a full-blown Hulk out. He stepped over the crewman who had laughed in the beginning—and then he kept going.
“Oops,” he said as he stomped on the asshole’s balls. The man cried out, but Ethan pivoted, grinding his heel before returning to his partner’s side.
Jason tried hard not to laugh. “Feeling better now?”
“No, but it will do,” he said with a sniff.
His partner shook his head. “Why don’t you head on home before you freeze your dick off?”
Ethan grunted. They were nowhere near done. “I’m fine. The rage is more than enough to keep me warm. Besides, I need to be on hand in case the girls start talking.”
Since the ninth girl hadn’t responded to Russian, it was still a toss-up if that was where they came from, but he had a better chance of making himself understood than the other agents.
But his partner wasn’t having it. “Don’t worry about them. We’ll muddle through until we can get some translators down here.”
Jason indicated Ethan’s soaking-wet clothes. “Meanwhile, you’ve got to wash all that shit off. The water in Boston Harbor is not as polluted as some places, but why take the chance? You want to have kids someday, right?”
Ethan hesitated, glancing down. He didn’t see any obvious muck. “I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not like I have any open wounds.”
“Well, let’s see if you’re still singing the same tune tomorrow. Besides, it’s freezing. Go home before you catch pneumonia. I don’t want to do all the paperwork for this shitshow on my own.”
Jason clapped him on the back. “It’s okay. I got this. Go home. Take a hot shower and talk to your girl. Your night is just getting started.”
Shit. Ethan hated it when Jason was right.
“Thanks, man,” he said, waving to the rest of the team as he headed to the parking lot.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ethan’s skin was starting to itch under his clean sweatshirt. He’d changed into his gym clothes in the dock parking lot to avoid spreading Boston Harbor’s many germs all over the interior of his car.
As an extra precaution, he used the car cover he kept in the trunk to drape over the driver’s seat. He was going to have to toss the whole thing in his heavy-duty washing machine.
Exhausted, he let himself into his place, leaving his shoes and socks outside the door so he wouldn’t get any crap on the new hardwood. Luna could walk, but she still spent an inordinate amount of time crawling around or playing on the floor.
“Julie, can you take this for me?” he called, hefting the car cover so it wouldn’t drag on the floor. There was no answer, so he repeated himself a little louder.
She must be asleep.
It was a little late, almost half-past ten, but Ethan was surprised Julie hadn’t waited up for him. If he’d been her, he would have been waiting on pins and needles. Shoving a sudden disquiet away, Ethan dropped the cover and wet clothes on top of the washing machine in the laundry room, taking the time to wash his hands and arms before going to search for Julie.
His bed was empty. She’d made it up, tucking the down cover under the mattress the way hotels did. Even the pillows had been straightened with military precision.
He scanned the room, wondering why that bothered him so much. His apartment was too quiet. She’s not with Luna.
Her stuff was gone. A quick search revealed all Julie’s clothes were missing, along with the beat-up suitcases and backpack that had once held them. The empty spot where they used to sit in the closet screamed.
The pain didn’t truly hit him until he went into Luna’s room. The crib was empty except for a small assortment of toys, whatever she hadn’t been able to fit in the suitcases or that backpack she used to carry.
He tried to console himself with the fact Julie hadn’t let her pride get in the way when she left him. She had taken all the warm winter clothes Maggie and his friends had bought for Luna. But she still had to travel light, so the toys had been left behind.
He ran to the kitchen. The coffee pot was still warm. She had left, but very recently.
Icy fingers spread up from his gut to his chest.
He didn’t know where to go. Ethan formed a vague idea of trying Tully’s before discarding it. She wouldn’t go there. No, she had taken off again.
He was too far from a subway stop, so he had to start with the nearest bus stops.
Deciding not to think too hard, he ran back down the stairs, palming his keys. He hit the parking lot at a run, skidding to a stop at the Mustang’s driver’s side door, dropping his keys in the process.
If he hadn’t bent to pick them up, he might have missed the bobbing light coming from one of the first-floor windows. It was coming from the studio Julie used to live in.
Ever so slowly, he walked back inside. Suddenly, he was at the door of the studio with absolutely no memory of how he’d gotten there.
Ethan pushed the door open.
He saw the suitcases and backpack first. They were stacked by the door. Julie was crouched in the corner with a f
lashlight on the floor next to her, pointed at the wall.
Luna sat on the floor in her winter suit. She yawned sleepily, watching whatever her mother was doing with little interest.
He didn’t say a word. Reaching for the switch, he flipped it, flooding the room with light.
Julie started, whirling around so swiftly she fell on her backside. A screwdriver landed on the floor. She had been using it to remove the old-fashioned grill that covered the heating duct.
“You need a Phillips-head to get that open,” he informed her. She was using the wrong kind.
Julie scrambled to her feet. “Ethan. I didn’t think you were coming home until later. Your text said…”
She trailed off, cringing as he picked up one of the suitcases. It was full.
And just like that, she’d accomplished what the crew of the Lorano hadn’t managed. He lost it, seeing red.
“No,” he said. “Get Luna and go back upstairs.”
Shifting her weight, Julie gazed longingly past him at the door. “But, Ethan…”
“No,” he repeated in a hiss. “You are not running off with that baby in the middle of the fucking night!”
By the time he was done, he was yelling. He could feel the cords in his neck standing out in stark relief.
Luna started to cry. Her wide eyes eviscerated him when she opened her little mouth to wail. Swallowing his anger with effort, he bent to pick her up before Julie could, cuddling and soothing the little girl with incoherent murmurs.
He couldn’t speak. If he did, he would regret what came out for the rest of his life.
Julie was crying, too. The tears were choking her, but she still tried. “W-we can’t stay.”
Ethan wanted to break something. The only thing keeping him in check was the tiny sniffling toddler in his arms. Luna was depending on him to get a hold of the situation.
“We are not going to talk about this tonight,” he managed to say. “Right now, we are going upstairs. I’m putting Luna to bed, then I’m taking a hot shower. You and I will discuss this in the morning.”
“But—”
“I said… tomorrow!” He picked up the suitcases in his free hand before marching to the elevator. After a beat, Julie followed, holding that fucking backpack in her hands.
On the elevator, Julie cried the entire way up. Once they were back in his place, he set Luna in her crib. The toddler must have been emotionally wrung out, too, because she closed her eyes and went to sleep as soon as her head hit the mattress.
He tossed the suitcase into the closet. Julie sat on the couch, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. She stopped when she saw him under the lights. “Oh my God! What happened to you?”
Puzzled, Ethan froze as she rushed over, putting cold fingers on his neck. He stepped into the hall where he’d hung a full-length mirror so he could do spot checks on his appearance on those rare days he had a meeting or a presentation.
There was an angry red stripe burned in the side of his neck from when that guy had surprised him by pulling on his badge.
“It’s nothing.”
And it wasn’t. The fucker could have taken his head off if Ethan hadn’t reacted so quickly, but he hadn’t been truly hurt until he came home.
“But you’re injured.” Her hand clutched his arm.
“You’re going to pretend to care about that?” he spat, shaking her hand off. “You were about to run off into the night—with no note or explanation.”
Her eyes sparkled with fresh tears, and she curled her hand against her chest. She bit her lip. “I…I left an explanation on your desk.”
Ethan stared for a long moment, his emotions a churning storm. Explanations aside, there was something he didn’t understand.
“I don’t get it. You could have been long gone. Why the hell did you wait until this hour of the night to leave?
She looked down. “I wanted to make sure you came home from the raid. I needed to know you were safe before…”
Before she left, tearing his heart out of his chest.
Ethan scrubbed his face with his hands. How the hell had this happened? He’d simply been doing a good deed, helping out a mom and her kid who were in a bind. And now he had discovered he was in love with her—with them—in the worst possible way.
“Why?”
The words hung in the air, taking up more room than one syllable should.
Julie shuddered, closing her eyes briefly. “It was what you said about making Luna mine legally. If we file papers to legitimize our relationship, he might find us.”
He.
Ethan chose his next words carefully. “Do you think this person would follow you here?”
Julie wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
He waited a little longer, biting his tongue as tears began to stream down her cheeks.
“Oh, Ethan, I was so stupid. I thought he was going to save me from my family—that he was so much better than them. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
“Who is this man?”
“Alvaro,” she whispered, shivering. “He was my fiancé.”
O-kay. This was going be a long fucking night. But then Ethan reached out and touched her hand. “Hell, you’re colder than I am, and I took a dunk in the damn harbor tonight.”
She looked up, startled. “Did you fall off the boat?”
“Technically, I jumped.” Ethan stripped off his sweatshirt, herding Julie into his bedroom and through it to the bathroom.
“Strip,” he ordered, turning on the overhead heat lamps.
Quizzically, she raised an eyebrow.
“This isn’t about sex. You’re shivering like you’re in shock. Strip. We’re taking a hot shower and going to bed. Luna is out for the night. Everything else can wait until morning.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, but she fumbled with her coat with unsteady hands, dropping it to the ground.
“Here, let me help,” he said, reaching for her shirt. He undressed her as fast as he could, denying himself the pleasure of a slow reveal. Then he turned on the double shower head, adjust them so they both got a steady stream.
Ethan rarely gave much thought to his own morality. He simply checked the box for law-abiding citizen and moved on. But after undressing Julie and soaping her down without trying anything sexual, he was convinced sainthood was on the table.
He was polishing his halo when Julie decided to help him lather up. Ethan should have stopped her, but it felt too good.
Julie rubbed the washcloth across his chest, circling to wash his back. She washed his legs, too, but he twisted to take the washcloth from her before she could do the front. He scrubbed himself rapidly while she hovered behind him. Eventually, he felt her cheek press against his back.
“I didn’t want to leave,” she confessed. “If I could have anything, I would pick staying here with you.”
He didn’t miss the underlying message. Julie was still at the edge, debating whether she should leave.
“You can’t run forever.”
“I don’t know how to stop.”
He turned around to face her. “Start by taking stock. Weigh what you gain and what you will lose by leaving.”
Yes, she could keep running. Julie was smart, and she worked hard. If she had to, she could start over and succeed. It would help if she picked a friendlier city than Boston next time. Perhaps she’d be better off.
Maybe somewhere down the line, she’d decide the only thing chasing her was a phantom. Maybe she’d find some nice computer programmer or something equally lame to someday tie the knot and have two or three kids of their own.
“Fuck that,” he muttered aloud before he could stop himself. He reached for her, not questioning it when she almost flew into his arms, her wet creamy skin slapping against his chest. Her mouth opened to his under the streaming water.
Sainthood was off the table.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Juliet didn’t care she had been prepared to
leave this man only a few hours ago with no plans to look back. All she cared about now was pressing closer against him so hard she was squeezing the air out of her lungs.
Ethan kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth, possessing it as he guided her head this way and that. She drank him in, feeling more and more detached until she was flying.
His hands stroked over the globes of her ass before going around her thighs. He hauled her up, urging her legs around his waist. Juliet wrapped her arms around his neck, gasping when his cock parted her folds, driving in her with one long, hard stroke.
There was no pain this time. All Juliet felt was a slick burning heat. Panting, she used her thigh and ass muscles to wiggle up and down on his steel, hungrier for him now he was buried inside her. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t used to this. Her appetite for Ethan had been building for weeks. She’d tried not to watch him, the way he moved and how his long, muscled form looked at rest. Even the way he smelled—more mint that musk. If she took a bite of him, her mouth would come away tingling with peppermint.
Ethan pressed her back against the cool shower tiles, using the additional support to wrestle back control. Hips pistoning, he fucked her against the wall, his driving strokes not making any allowances for her relative lack of experience.
Not that it mattered. In his arms, her body had a mind of its own. Her sheath fluttered and flexed, trying to keep him inside or absorb him. She didn’t know which.
He didn’t waste any time. When the end came, it was quick. Ethan ground against her, reverently working the head of his cock over a magical tight spot deep inside her. Crying out, she clamped against him as he came with a shout.
Her mind was quiet when Ethan set her down on her feet. Exhausted, she leaned against him as he rinsed them off and toweled them dry.
They were in bed, covered in his thick down comforter, before he spoke again.
“Your real name is Julietta.” It was a statement of fact.