Gabe found himself grinning, imagining Beatrice as a little girl, facing up against a stern admiral.
The admiral sighed. “Had me wrapped around her fingers by that time. A year later, I got recruited into covert and clandestine operations. I saw a lot of shit, Gabe, did so much shit. How could I go home and hug my little girl after I’d killed someone else’s father?” Porter leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, turning his head to look at him. “At that time we didn’t have the training nor the available help to work through the aftermath of a mission. It was a stigma then to show weakness; we were expected to tough it out and deal.”
Gabe couldn’t agree more. There were many veterans who came home messed up, homeless, and hooked on drugs.
“I remembered clearly the first time I pulled away from Beatrice. I shot and killed the leader of a drug cartel. We had intel that he was at home. He was guarded well, but we were able to breach his defenses. He refused to surrender, and the firefight that ensued was bloody. I shot him in the head and he dropped right beside a bed. I nudged him over and that was when I heard it. Crying. His daughter was under the fucking bed, saw her father shot down.” The admiral rubbed his face. “She was Beatrice’s age. I couldn’t go home and face my own daughter afterward. Then I thought of all the other reasons why I couldn’t let myself get close to her. Our covers were solid, but the longer you’re in this life, the probability of blowback becomes higher. That was when the rift started, and I just let it happen.”
“I think,” Gabe said carefully, “you spent your life being scared of loving someone again. Those are excuses, Admiral. You could have quit.”
“I let myself get drawn deeper into the CIA,” Porter admitted. “An op would take months sometimes. Before I knew it, Beatrice was all grown up, and Lorraine was divorcing me.”
For a fleeting moment, Gabe felt sorry for the admiral and his shitty personal life, but Porter had chosen his path. He wondered if the admiral would have given up the clandestine life if he had the woman he loved by his side.
As if reading his thoughts, Porter said, “I think about it sometimes, if I chose her, but then I wouldn’t have Beatrice. Even if I was the worst father, I couldn’t deny that she is the best part of me.”
Gabe didn’t even want to think about a world where Beatrice didn’t exist.
“Don’t fuck up with my daughter, Gabriel,” Porter said. “I’ve done enough of that in her lifetime. I don’t think I can change my relationship with her. You saw how I was after her abduction. I don’t know how to be a father.”
“You can try,” Gabe said.
“Thirty-two years too late.”
“Ben, it’s not too late. We nearly lost her. Don’t you think this should be a wake-up call? Doesn’t this defeat your excuse of trying to protect her by showing your enemies you don’t care?” Gabe nudged the admiral. “Maybe you should see the shrink at the NEST.”
Porter stared at him dubiously. “Don’t push it.”
“Okay, then, let’s help you become father of the year. You can help me get dinner ready.”
*****
“Does it hurt, honeybee?”
Doug shifted her in his arms to peer down at her. Next to Gabe, Doug probably had the hardest time dealing with what had happened to her. Unlike Gabe though, her assistant didn’t have the training most military guys had to shut it down. He cried when he saw her arms in bandages. Afterward, he hugged her and had not let her go since he arrived, which was over two hours ago. As for her, she still didn’t know how to feel: anger at the people who did this to her, relief that she was alive, or an underlying anxiety of what still lay ahead. They let her go. Why? Beatrice could only surmise that they wanted her to be a constant reminder to her father and Gabe that they failed to protect her. This was why Beatrice tried to act normal around everyone, because showing how terrified she was with her recent ordeal was letting the bad guys win. But pretending was exhausting.
“It does; I just don’t care,” Beatrice replied.
Doug chuckled. “Pain meds will do that to you.” He brushed her hair away from her face affectionately. “So how are you and Gabe? The man looked ready to slam the door on my face when I arrived.”
“We haven’t spent much time together since I returned. Prior to Travis, Cat, and Nate showing up, I was asleep.” Beatrice warmed over. “Such a great feeling being held in his arms. I feel safe.”
“Hey now, my feelings are hurt.”
“Don’t be silly, Doug. Tell me you wouldn’t feel the same if a man like Gabe was holding you.”
Doug cackled with laughter. “You have a point, sweetie.”
The back door slammed. Gabe and her father appeared in the hallway.
“What were you two up to?” Beatrice asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Porter said.
“Hanging out,” Gabe answered.
The two men didn’t look exactly guilty, but Beatrice was pretty sure something was up.
Something was definitely up. Gabe and her father were busy getting dinner ready. Seriously, how hard was it to reheat a frozen casserole? You really didn’t need a former Navy SEAL and an admiral in the U.S. Navy for it.
She and Doug were already sitting at the dining table. Her assistant leaned in to her. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen your father toss a salad.”
“I’ve got some great wine here, Doug,” her father said, bringing over a bottle. He looked at Beatrice. “Sorry, baby, you can’t have any with the meds you’re on.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” Her blond assistant looked perplexed as her father lined up some glasses and poured the wine. Not that Beatrice could blame him. Her father had barely said two sentences to her assistant in the three years Doug had worked for her.
“And here’s the chicken mushroom risotto casserole,” Gabe announced with much flare. The delicious aroma perked up her appetite at least. After he set down the still-bubbling dish, Gabe muttered something about getting the bread.
Beatrice was controlling a grin. Emotion innervated her body once more as her heart swelled at the sight of her father obviously making an effort to be less rigid. He called her “baby.” He hadn’t called her that endearment in years. Gabe returned with the bread on a cutting board. It happened quickly, the flash of the silver edge, the pounding in her ears, and the fear that gripped her body. Her chair toppled over as she scrambled to her feet. She couldn’t breathe.
The knife Gabe was holding clattered to the table. He was suddenly in front of her and her nose filled with his familiar scent. Her arms were stiff at her sides, but his banded around her securely.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Gabe crooned in her ear. “I got you, babe. You’re safe.”
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Gabe held her slightly away as he stared at her. “It’s been less than 24 hours, Beatrice. Cut yourself some slack.”
“I don’t want them to win.”
“They won’t,” her father said, coming up beside them. “In fact, they’ve lost.” Her father’s eyes searched hers with an emotion she hadn’t seen in a long time. Tenderness. “They don’t know how strong you are, baby.”
Her dad looked at Gabe. Something unspoken passed between the two men as Gabe’s arms loosened around her. Her father tentatively reached out for her. Some unnamed feeling held her heart in a vise and squeezed as a burning sensation burst behind her eyes. She was once again his little girl.
“Daddy!” Beatrice launched herself into her father’s arms, which came around her tightly. His voice was calming, soothing, still commanding but gentler. She knew that would never change, but something subtle shifted in their relationship, something opened up, and that something, Beatrice knew, would be for the better.
Through the film of her tears, she caught sight of Gabe. His own eyes were suspiciously glazed, expression unguarded, leaving no doubt of his intense feelings for her.
Their enemies had f
ailed, because between Gabe and her father’s strength, and with the support of such caring friends, there was no way Beatrice would let this fear control her.
Dinner was delayed for a while. She was sure no one minded.
*****
Beatrice stretched on the couch, stroking Rhino’s head absently. Gabe’s dog seemed to know she was hurt and did his best to act like her guard even if he was probably worse off than she was. Her father and Doug had left a few minutes ago, and Gabe was checking the perimeter.
It was a day of healing. Not only for her physical wounds but emotional as well. Beatrice wasn’t expecting a total 180 from her father, but seeing his usually stoic face crack with regret and tenderness did a number on her heartstrings. She wasn’t even thinking it would last, but being a father when it mattered was enough. Another thing she was pleased about was the grudging reconciliation between Travis and her dad. Even when they weren’t seeing eye to eye with what should be done, arguing was better than complete silence. Yes, this was a surprisingly good day.
The alarm beeped as the door opened. Gabe walked in and entered the code to arm the security system.
“This place is fucking wired,” Gabe said, lowering the flashlight on the table. “We’re surrounded by woods, but there are trip wires surrounding the property. I followed the schematic and made sure they’re working.” He was holding a blueprint of some sort.
“The room adjacent to the one before the backdoor seems like a command center of some sort,” Beatrice said. She accidentally walked into it earlier.
“Yes, it also functions as a panic room. There’s an interior sliding door,” Gabe looked at the plan again. “Walls are six inches thick all around, including the ceiling. There are weapons inside, but we also have an armory right about . . .” He nudged the area rug in the kitchen to reveal a trap door. Wasting no time at all, Gabe hefted the door and let it fall back in a decisive crash. He disappeared down a flight of steps.
Curious now, Beatrice rose from the couch and walked toward where Gabe disappeared. She could hear him whooping in excitement. Hmph, men and their guns.
“Gabe?” she called out tentatively from the top of the stairs.
His head appeared at the bottom of the steps. “Hell yeah, babe. You gotta take a load of this.”
Shaking her head at Gabe’s childlike elation, she followed him to the cellar. Beatrice had to admit, even she was in awe. Different types of guns, assault rifles, and carbines were pegged on the wall. Gabe was already checking out what looked like the latest model of the M4-carbine—a firearm heavily used by the U.S. Military. Ammunition cans were stacked by another wall.
“Is that . . .”
“RPG,” Gabe muttered, lowering the carbine and picking up the rocket-propelled grenade weapon. “Jesus, there’s enough firepower here to start a war.”
“Uh-huh,” she agreed, her eyes landing on another shelf with plastic explosives.
“Come on.” Gabe cupped her elbow and led her to the steps. “I’ll take stock tomorrow of what we have, although the inventory is in the file your father left me.” He kissed the top of her head. “Right now, I need to change your bandages and Rhino’s.”
“Poor man,” Beatrice teased, “reduced to playing nurse to me and dear Rhino.”
Beatrice was on the first step when Gabe gently turned her around to face him. They were almost eye to eye, his gaze scorchingly possessive. “You’re mine, Beatrice. I’ll always take care of you.”
*****
Gabe carefully wrapped fresh bandages around Beatrice’s arms. He kept his face blank, even though the fury he had kept at bay since she’d been taken threatened to consume him. Beatrice wasn’t the only one pretending. He knew she was trying to put on a brave front, so the people who cared for her wouldn’t feel righteous anger and the need for revenge.
“It doesn’t look as bad,” Beatrice whispered.
“Yes, I think the swelling hasn’t gotten worse.” Lie. It had gotten more swollen. The skin around the stitches bulged red. “You took your antibiotics?”
She nodded.
“Okay, poppy.” He kissed her forehead.
She frowned at him when he tucked her in but didn’t slip into bed beside her. Instead, he headed to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to check on something.” Gabe needed to get out of the room. Seeing the ugly cuts marring her once flawless skin made him want to howl for retribution. He couldn’t sleep beside her peacefully. Too much vengeful energy was bottled up.
He quickly disabled the alarm and headed out the back door. Taking deep inhalations cooled the rage pulsing in his veins, but they weren’t enough.
An anguished growl escaped from the back of his throat. Hauling his right arm back, he smashed his fist into the concrete wall in front of him. He repeated the movement with his left fist and then a couple more with both hands.
Some of the toxic energy left his body and dissipated into the pain that radiated from his knuckles. He wasn’t stupid enough to injure his hands permanently, but there would be swelling. Where was a damned punching bag when he needed one? Gabe prowled the length of the back patio, willing himself to take back control before he actually maimed his hands.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Repeat.
A whine sounded behind the door.
Rhino. Shit. His dog was always perceptive of his emotional upheavals.
“Hey, buddy,” Gabe mumbled when he went back inside. He must not have shut the door to their bedroom firmly, and the poor boy followed him downstairs despite the pain in his shoulders. Gabe crouched in front of his dog; Rhino’s dark eyes were soulful and comforting. “Fuck, boy, I’m so messed up.”
Rhino pressed his cold nose against his jaw.
“I can’t help but think I brought this upon her,” Gabe whispered. “But I can’t walk away from her. Never again.”
Rhino whined softly; his pink tongue shot out and licked Gabe’s scruffy cheek. “Ugh, okay, no need to kiss it better.” He fondly rubbed the fur on his head. “Come on, you’re supposed to be guarding her, not following my sorry ass around.”
After engaging the alarm, Gabe headed up the stairs, Rhino trudging beside him. He hated seeing his dog move with difficulty, but he tensed up whenever Gabe attempted to carry him. They made it back to the bedroom soon enough. The light from the hallway illuminated as far as the edge of the bed. He saw Beatrice shift slightly.
“Gabe, Rhino followed you downstairs.”
“He’s with me.”
“Okay.”
He turned off the hallway lights and headed for the bathroom. There were slight cuts on his fists, but not bad. The purpling skin promised bruising and swelling tomorrow. He should ice it, but he didn’t want to be away from Beatrice any longer.
He crawled into bed beside her. She was on her side, facing away from him. He tagged her around the waist and pulled her into his arms. He took a deep breath, taking in the clean floral scent of her hair. The warm softness of her body melted away the remaining tension in his body.
Gabe savored the feeling of having her back in his arms. He didn’t, for a minute, want to miss any moment of this in slumber. Even as he struggled to remain awake, his consciousness eventually slipped away until finally, he eased into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Frank Wilkes stared at the manifest of the incoming cargo ship from Colombia via Jamaica that would be docking in Virginia Beach next week. The situation was getting complicated. Benjamin Porter was too close on his tail and Wilkes had no idea who the admiral was working with, only that an incursion group had found the old laboratories in Colombia and was aware of the virus. Wilkes thought of keeping his daughter hostage in exchange for the man Porter had in custody—the medical examiner who did the autopsy cover-ups for Wilkes. But since the ME had no idea who he was working for anyway, he was in no way a problem. Besides, Wilkes had been too late to bargain for his man back because the foo
l had revealed the existence of the ST-Vyl virus.
Zach Jamison assured him it was better to keep Beatrice Porter alive since Zach had easy access to her anyway. The admiral’s daughter was too precious to kill immediately, and it was better to keep them off-kilter with what other nefarious plans they had planned for her.
His phone buzzed.
“Wilkes.”
“It’s Zach. I have the updated rotation on customs inspection. We’re clear with our upcoming shipment next week. Our man inside Customs and Border protection is on duty.”
“Excellent.”
The line went dead. Short, quick communication had become the norm. The benefit of having Zach Jamison working with a senator on the Homeland Security Senate committee was easy access to border security strategies. All Wilkes and his crew had to do was work around those strategies. There was also the added bonus of keeping tabs on the political maneuverings in Colombia, which was beneficial for Wilkes who was navigating the treacherous slopes with his business partners—drug traffickers and dirty businessmen. However, sharing this intel with Fuego sweetened the deal he had with the Latino group. The derailment of the peace talks between the Colombian government and the other players in the armed conflict ensured an uninterrupted influx of cocaine into the country. So in a way, Wilkes and Fuego shared the same agenda.
For now.
*****
Beatrice thanked her lucky stars that coffee was allowed while she was on painkillers and antibiotics. Gabe had enough to deal with besides adding a caffeine-deprived banshee, which she tended to turn into when she didn’t get her fix in the mornings. The aroma wasn’t the Colombian Excelso coffee beans she was used to. She took a sip, hoping it would taste decent. Her tongue balked at the flavor and she ran to the sink, spewing out the coffee.
“What? What?” Gabe’s alarmed voice came from the doorway. He had let Rhino outside to take care of early morning business.
“What kind of coffee was that?” Beatrice screeched.
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