by Marie James
Was? Wasn’t?
Both are past tense, but I can’t focus on how that makes me feel. Analyzing over that would only lead to a bigger mess in my head.
Silence fills the room, but just as I’m convinced he’s fallen asleep, he speaks again, “I loved kissing you.”
My heart rate spikes, pounding against my ribcage so hard, I don’t doubt he can feel it.
“But you kissed me for the wrong reasons.”
I keep quiet, hoping he’ll say more. It doesn’t take long before my silence is rewarded.
“I’m sorry if I scared you. I was extremely upset that you put yourself in danger. And I can’t promise that I won’t respond that way again if you do something foolish, but I will never hurt you. I won’t put my hands on you or force you to do anything. Never. That will never happen where I’m concerned. But if I get agitated again, you only have permission to touch me, to kiss me if you want to, not because of some attempt to get me to calm down. Do you understand?”
“I u-understand,” I stammer.
He’s exactly right. I pressed my lips to his because I saw it work back in Miami. Gabi, a girl that got there the same day I did, chose that tactic instead of fighting the guys. Last I saw of her, she was sitting on the leader’s lap having a grand old time. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try the same approach with Ryan. He’s right, most of me didn’t want to kiss him, but even more of me doesn’t want to lose him either. My selfish heart wants all of his time, all of his attention, and angry men don’t stick around. Angry men stay late at the office and make lazy excuses for coming home half-drunk and smelling of cheap perfume.
I squeeze my eyes closed, convincing myself that Ryan and Jason are nothing alike, and if Ryan has a non-serious relationship with another woman, there’s nothing I can do about that. It doesn’t stop me from reminding myself that he’s here with me and has been constantly since I was taken to the hospital.
He loved kissing me but stopped it because he was aware that I kissed him for the wrong reasons. I want to argue, now that I’m thinking about it. Most of me kissed him because of what he suspects, but there’s a part of me that wanted to kiss him because he’s helped me so much. I wanted to kiss him because it felt right. I wanted to kiss him because lying against him every day and not pressing my lips to his was driving me crazy.
I want to kiss him now, especially after he took a stand and told me I couldn’t kiss him unless it’s for the right reasons. How idiotic of me to kiss him without his permission. What does that make me? Am I as bad as the men that pressed their disgusting lips to mine when I didn’t want it? Did I take something from him he wasn’t offering?
“Get out of your head,” he whispers after a minute.
He chuckles and pulls me tighter against him, then his hand starts that soothing run down my back over and over.
“I like you, Mia. I think you’re an amazing woman. I think you’re a survivor, and before long, you’ll be someone you can face in the mirror rather than avoiding it like you have been. I’m not one to give you the timetable on that type of recovery, but I’d be an asshole if I didn’t tell you that we’re leaving soon.” I stiffen against his chest, but he keeps going on. “I’ll have to leave for work. Sometimes that’s three days, sometimes it’s for weeks at a time. So I need you to work on being a little more independent, not because I’m rushing your recovery, but because I can’t leave my focus here with you. Worrying whether you left the room to eat will put me in danger. What we do is serious shit, and it requires all of my attention.”
I know he’s telling the truth. Flashes of the men in their swat-like gear and assault rifles fill my head every time I close my eyes. Ryan and his guys were the saviors, but the men in the compound had guns just as big, and more than once, I saw them turn those things on each other during an argument. Once, ten of us were forced to witness the massacre of three women on the front lawn.
“If you aren't comfortable here with the other women, then we need to start making arrangements to get you back home to your parents, or anywhere else you’ll feel safe. I can’t do my job if I think you’re sneaking off in the middle of the night and freezing to death.”
“What do you want?”
Asking the question brings a sense of foreboding, but if he’s wanting to lay all the truth out right now, I need to do the very same.
“I want you safe. I want you happy.”
“Where do you want me, though?”
“If it were up to me, you’d be right here when I got back, but I can’t be selfish. You aren’t a prisoner here. I don’t own you, and you don’t owe anything to Cerberus. You tell me where you want to be, and I’ll make that happen, no questions asked.”
I tangle my fingers in his t-shirt and let the tears of relief fall from my eyes and wet his shirt.
“Right here,” I tell him. “I want to be right here.”
Chapter 11
Scooter
Mia was missing less than a handful of hours, but Max won’t even make eye contact with me. He hasn’t said as much, but I’m certain he thinks I can’t take care of his twin.
I’m not walking away from her, but at the end of the day, I didn’t ask for this job. She reached for me in the hospital and hasn’t stopped since that moment.
Max acts as if I took her from him, like I’m just as bad as the men that snatched her from the mall. I know he’ll be involved in this latest mission to Venezuela, and then he’ll go back to wherever he came from. Maybe the absence of him constantly lingering around Mia will help her loosen up a little. She’s always on edge no matter how much I tell her she’s safe here. I think her brother watching her, expecting her to be okay immediately is too much pressure, and it’s only setting her back.
“Let’s get settled,” Kincaid says as soon as he steps into the conference room. “We have a lot of things to discuss.”
We situate ourselves around the table, waiting for news about deployment dates and details, but Shadow hasn’t arrived yet. We never get started without him.
Tension and eagerness to be back at work fill the room as the guys enter and take their seats. We’ve been on leave for over a week, and it’s easy to tell that the guys are chomping at the bit to get back to work. Time with family is nice, but we’re all here for exactly this, the ability to help, the thrill of the ride, and this time around, the soul-deep desire to nail Cortez and Jiménez to the damn wall.
Coming in last, Shadow drops to his chair behind his computer and immediately begins to type onto his keyboard.
“We haven’t spoken much about Blade,” Kincaid begins once he has the entire room’s full attention. “His biopsy came back, and although we’re hopeful, the news isn’t good.”
“Fucking cancer,” Kid hisses.
Blade has been the main guy filtering through the jobs that are presented to Cerberus. He navigates all the channels and sets everything up for us to make things go as smoothly as possible. He’s imperative to the entire operation.
“He’s going to have to take a step back,” Kincaid continues. “They’re going to start with chemo, and as much as he assures me he can handle Cerberus and tend to his medical needs, I made the call that forces him to focus solely on his medical needs.”
“I bet that didn’t go over well,” Snatch mutters.
Shadow grins. “He’s pissed, to say the least.”
Kincaid frowns at Shadow before turning back to us. “Hopefully, it’s a temporary retirement, but in the meantime, we have someone that is capable of filling the shoes Blade leaves behind.”
I stiffen when Max sits up straighter in his chair.
“Max worked for the CIA and is well versed in the tech Cerberus uses. He’s been working with us this last week, prepping for Venezuela. He’s going to be taking over Blade’s spot with the added benefit that he’ll be here in New Mexico with us rather than all the way across the country.”
“He’s not a Marine,” Jinx interrupts.
“It’s true that a Ce
rberus has always required former enlistment, but times are changing,” Dominic says. “Max is more than capable of handling what we need, and he’s not going anywhere. Utilizing our resources comes ahead of anything else.”
A couple of the guys around the table grumble, no doubt agitated at the hoops we had to jump through for consideration, and here it looks like Max just slid in at the right time with minimal experience.
Max’s face is stoic the entire time this discussion is going on. He must’ve known that he would get pushback, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Tug doesn’t open his mouth or give any of the guys voicing their opinions nasty looks. We’re a team, and we’ve always been able to voice our concerns with no threat of reprisal. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed even when one of our guys is romantically involved with the focus of conversation.
“We leave for South America in three days,” Shadow says, refocusing the group.
“Three days?” Rocker grumbles.
“Yes,” Kincaid says. “We have a couple of guys scouting for us, and we’re still waiting to hear back from them. Both compounds have been reinforced. They’ve tripled security, but we think the added time over the holidays will make them grow lax. If anything, these guys like to party. Their constant consumption of alcohol and cocaine will take the edge off and make them sloppy.”
“It’s three more days for the women they have to get hurt. Three more days for them to get bored with what they have. Three more days for them to find new toys to play with,” I hiss.
Three days would seem like a million years to anyone stuck in those compounds with them, getting hurt, abused, and tortured. Three days is three days too long.
“We have to wait for the intel,” Shadow says after clearing his throat. “We understand that Mia makes this personal for several of you, but we won’t be any good to other women like her if we rush in unprepared. This is the shortest time period we have that still keeps us safe.”
I watch Max bite the inside of his cheek, and the sight of his slight head nod calms me some. I know he’d urge them to go in faster if that was a possibility. Mia is safe, and I need to focus on that alone.
“We have confirmed… Max, why don’t you let everyone know what we have,” Shadow urges.
“We have been able to confirm that Jiménez is in Venezuela. Some of the intel we’re waiting on is to determine which compound he’s at.”
Shadow plugs something into his computer, and the aerials of the two compounds fill the massive TV at the head of the room.
“Movement around the compounds are leading us to believe that they’re joining forces, consolidating all into Xavier Cortez’s place,” Max continues. The screen flashes several times, revealing an increase of vehicles and supplies to the single compound.
“We’ll still be hitting both even if intel comes back that Luis Cortez’s property is empty. This is another reason for the delay. Having the split of men 70/30 to the different compounds is better than splitting it down the middle,” Kincaid adds.
“And the Special Agent?” Grinch chimes in. “What’s her status?”
“Special Agent Gabriella Butler is considered to have gone rogue,” Dominic answers. “We’ve been keeping in touch with our contact at The Agency, and he’s made it clear after some things have surfaced from Butler’s past, they have no doubt she’s been turned.”
“She’s not exactly been keeping a low profile either,” Shadow mutters as pictures of a gorgeous woman flash on the screen. “This was taken yesterday.”
“She’s out fucking shopping?” I hiss when her smiling face fills the screen. The clothing racks in the background make it easy to determine what she’s been up to.
“Are we sure she isn’t still playing her part?” Jinx asks. “She’s smiling, and she left Miami before the raid with Jiménez, but couldn’t she still be in survival mode?”
“The CIA won’t disclose what they know that made them label her rogue, but they don’t do that sort of thing lightly,” Max interrupts. “They won’t know for sure until they can get her back and debrief her.”
“What does Mia say about Butler?” Rocker asks, looking in my direction.
Max is the one that growls, but I pay him no attention.
“Mia isn’t in a place where she’s able to help us with this,” I spit.
“And we wouldn’t ask that of her anyway,” Kincaid says, taking a step closer to the table, a warning for all of us to keep our cool. “Abductee perceptions are always distorted, and biased intel is dangerous for everyone involved.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Rocker grumbles. “I don’t want to cause more problems than Mia already has.”
I nod at my friend, my blood still boiling, hands still urging me to wrap them around his throat until he gives more than a half-assed apology.
“Intel is rolling in constantly. By the time we get to Venezuela, we’ll be as prepared as we can be to make our moves on the compounds,” Shadow says, redirecting our attention to where it needs to be.
“We’re considering using an additional team, but we haven’t pulled the trigger on that,” Kincaid adds. “It’s going to be all hands on deck.”
My ears perk up with that news. We normally have one or two of the original guys join us on missions while the others stay behind and give direction via our headsets. Having them all head to South America with us makes it evident how important this is to the club.
“The Cortez brothers are responsible for over half of the trafficking coming out of Venezuela. We’ve worked dozens of cases that have them as the root of the problem. Luis Jiménez was responsible for a third of the cocaine being brought into Miami. Shutting these three guys down will have a huge effect on the sex trade as well as drugs,” Shadow says as a few line graphs pop up on the screen. “The numbers are staggering, but if we manage to take them out and keep on the others that think they can pop up to fill those voids, we’ll make it easier for the cleanup teams to keep a better handle on things moving forward.”
“Max will stay behind here at the clubhouse,” Kincaid continues. “Scooter?”
My head snaps up to my boss.
“We need you in the field, but we understand if you want to stay behind.”
Max glares at me as if I’m the one who is asking to stay with Mia.
“I’m in, Prez.” My knuckles crack as my fists clench. “I’m not missing this mission for anything.”
Chapter 12
Mia
I want to be right here.
That’s what I told Ryan last night before I drifted to sleep in his arms.
It was mostly the truth. I do want to be here. He swears I’m safe here, but the fear of being hurt again never leaves that dark little corner in the back of my head. I don’t want to be on edge all the time. I’d rather my go-to expression was a smile like it used to be. I wish I wasn’t wound so tight that I feel like I could pop open and explode any second.
I’m curled around myself, arms wrapped around knees pulled tight to my chest when I sense movement in the hallway.
Two guys walk by, so deep in conversation that they don’t even look into the open doorway, then it swings open. Ryan’s eyes flash when he sees me on the bed, and it’s clear he thought he was going to find me gone again. I hate that I did that to him. Hate that I caused such an uproar that the entire group was out looking for me last night, but I don’t think it’ll happen again. Ryan assured me that I wasn’t stepping on a girlfriend’s toes by being here, but I don’t think that’s entirely true. He’s gone from a life of freedom with the ability to do what he wants whenever he wants to staying in his room all day because it comforts me. He’s bound to turn bitter about it, eventually.
“The door is open,” Ryan says as he steps inside. He’s winded as if he left his meeting and ran down the hall to check on me.
I don’t know whether I should be glad or irritated. I’m a little of both, I guess.
“Keen eye, detective,” I mutter.
; I frown deeper with my failed attempt at a joke, but that doesn’t keep the smile off his ruggedly handsome face.
“I figure it’s the first step in doing things on my own,” I explain when he stands in the center of the room, seemingly unsure of how he should act right now.
It’s another thing I hate about this entire situation. He doesn’t seem like the type that always second-guesses his actions, but me being here is making him do just that. He’s no longer sure of himself, but rather has to analyze each step to determine the best outcome.
“I think it’s great. I was just—”
A knock at the door interrupts him, and he turns to see who’s at his door.
“Hi,” a girl chirps, and immediately my hackles go up.
Is this Kirsty?
“Hey, Jasmine,” Ryan says in greeting. “What’s up?”
Jasmine? Max mentioned Jasmine more than once during his long-winded, one-sided talks.
I lean to the side, wanting to get a look at the woman that has my brother tied up in knots. To be fair, Kingston shares a number one spot with this woman, too, according to my brother.
“I just came to bring Mia some things.” Her soft voice is unassuming and filled with kindness.
“Mia?” Ryan turns back around, looking at me with questioning eyes. “Do you feel like company?”
His stance tells me that he’ll fight her if he has to, and the decision is all mine.
“Sure.” I give him a smile that I hope he can’t tell is fake. I’m curious about everyone else in the clubhouse, but at the same time, I’ve learned that just because it’s a woman with a nice smile doesn’t mean that they won’t turn on you the first second they get. Women in the compound were mostly cutthroat, and they wouldn’t have a problem putting a blade in your back if they thought it would help them somehow. That’s what being there did. It turned us all into monsters.
Ryan takes a step to the right, revealing a slender-framed woman with honey-brown hair, but he still keeps his position between the two of us. She smiles at me, the light catching the specks of amber in her mostly blue gaze.