by Debra Webb
A.J. Braddock.
For two beats she couldn’t react. She’d known it might be him they sent…some part of her had hoped, but when faced with the man himself she felt abruptly overwhelmed.
“We need to take cover,” he said quietly before glancing beyond her.
She snapped out of the trance she’d fallen into. No way was she about to fall for that one. She knew how that ancient trick worked. A quick peek over her shoulder and he’d take her weapon away from her while she was distracted. “I saw the movie, Braddock,” she said smugly. “I’m not listening to anything you say much less falling for any of your tricks.”
“Suit yourself.” He cast around again as if visually trolling for trouble. “The guy you killed had friends. They’re close.”
“It was self-defense,” she countered, a mixture of anger and fear—yes, dammit, fear, churned inside her. “I didn’t set out to kill him.”
“Save the excuses. We don’t have time for them now.”
He grabbed her and hauled her up against him. She bit her lips together to hold back a yelp as they went down into the sparse underbrush around a craggy outcropping of rocks. The rocks, more so than the foliage, would provide some measure of cover. But not enough for her comfort if what he said was true.
“This isn’t—”
He pressed a finger to his lips then pointed east of their position.
She followed his gesture and had to swallow a gasp.
Three men plundered through the woods like lumbering apes. She recognized the red shirt one of them wore. She’d seen these knuckleheads through her binoculars last night as she’d watched Manuel’s truck and his dead body to see if anyone showed up looking for him.
They had picked up her trail and come for the children.
A new rush of fear spiraled through her.
Then she realized that the idiots were headed in the wrong direction. They’d taken the bait she’d left by way of a decoy path that would lead them right back to where they’d started…in about forty-five minutes, buying her plenty of time to do whatever necessary.
Before she could pat herself on the back, she remembered that another enemy hadn’t fallen for her decoy.
That she was currently tucked against his unyielding body, her backside to his front, abruptly filtered into focus. He’d banded one of those strong arms around her middle again, ensuring she wouldn’t be going anywhere until he decided she should.
Long minutes after the men had slipped out of visual range, Braddock still held her tightly against him. She’d managed, to that point, to block the feel of his muscular contours, but her defenses were failing her now. Her body had started to respond to the blatant maleness of his.
Not good.
“Let me go,” she ordered under her breath.
He snatched the weapon out of her hand before she had the good sense to consider he might do just that.
“Just don’t try anything we’ll both regret,” he advised.
She scrambled away from him, still conscious of the other enemy not so far away.
Braddock got to his feet with a little more grace. He towered over her by at least six inches, which made her all the more furious. Guys liked using their vertical advantage for an intimidation tactic.
“Where are the boys?”
There was something about the way he looked at her when he asked the question…something she couldn’t quite label. And then it hit her.
“You think I did something to those kids?” Hell, she’d saved their lives. Didn’t anyone care?
“That’s—”
“Drop your weapon.”
A.J. froze. He couldn’t believe he’d let his guard down this way. He cursed himself repeatedly as he considered his limited options.
“What the hell are you doing?”
A.J. frowned as Gabrielle stormed over to him, past him actually. The pressure on the back of his skull eased and A.J. pivoted to see what the hell was going on.
Two young boys, Sloan’s boys, huddled with Gabrielle behind him. The only weapon the older one had in his hand was a small pocket-size flashlight.
“Who is this guy?” the older boy demanded with a dark look in A.J.’s direction.
Deciding he could mentally berate himself later for being a complete fool, A.J. ignored the kid and snagged Gabrielle by the arm. “We have to get out of here. These kids are in grave danger.”
She glowered at him. “Don’t touch me.”
“You heard her,” the older boy said, his fists clenched for battle.
“You gotta be kidding,” A.J. muttered under his breath.
The younger kid held on to his brother’s wrist and stared wide-eyed at A.J.
Perfect.
He’d come here to rescue these boys and this was the thanks he got.
“We have to get moving,” he reminded the woman who appeared just as startled by the boy’s defensive stance as he did.
“He’s not important,” she said to the boys, “but he’s right, we do have to get out of here.”
A.J. didn’t feel any compunction to thank her for clearing up that question.
She went on, “There are three men on our tail and they’re close. We need to get you two to that village.”
The older boy nodded his understanding. “Follow me.”
“What village?” A.J. asked as he fell into stride with Gabrielle. If she thought he was going to let her continue to be in charge, she was crazy. First, he needed to know what the hell she was up to, then he needed to understand what this village had to do with the plan to get the children to safety.
“I don’t know,” she said without sparing him a glance. “Some place they’ve been taught to go when they feel they’re in danger.”
Well that answered that question without telling him anything at all.
A.J. kept an eye on their backs as the boys moved swiftly, expertly, along a crooked, rocky trail flanked by lush greenery that was, according to Mark, the older kid, a shortcut. He’d only taken it once and hoped he wouldn’t get lost.
Just what A.J. had wanted to hear. At least it was taking them away from the direction the enemy had taken.
His gaze rested on the woman laboring to keep up with the teenager. She had to be exhausted, but she didn’t slow down. Did she really have these kids’ best interest at heart? Or was this move part of her plan to lure in Sloan?
He didn’t know.
But he wouldn’t let her out of his sight for a second. When the kids were delivered to safety, he would escort her back to Chicago. Amy Calhoun would take care of informing Sloan about what had happened. Mission complete.
Until then he’d just have to deal with the way the rhythm of his heart was disrupted every time he allowed his gaze to settle on her for more than a few seconds.
Fourteen minutes later and a final twisting turn in the trail led them into a clearing. That clearing rambled onward and sprawled amid the towering evergreens and oaks as if they’d backed out of the way to make room. Mud huts and rustic cabins spread outward from a center hub of a gathering place like the spokes on a wheel.
Heads poked out of partially opened doors but none of the residents appeared glad to see them. Certainly none rushed out to greet them.
Just when A.J. decided they were in the wrong place if an invitation to come in and stay awhile was expected, three people, two men and a woman, approached them.
Mark rushed over and allowed the elderly woman to hug him. Josh followed suit. A lengthy discussion in a language A.J. didn’t understand ensued.
Not Spanish. Some primitive native language, he estimated.
Mark walked back to where A.J. and Gabrielle waited.
“We’ll be safe here. Señor Camilo will take us farther into the mountains to a place where they go when danger threatens.”
Gabrielle nodded. “Good.” She glanced at A.J. “I guess we’ll be on our way then.”
Mark shot him a look. “You’ll need water.”
“Make it
fast,” A.J. warned. “The longer we’re here, the more likely we are to draw attention to your position.”
Mark double-timed it back over to the greeting committee and spoke briefly with the old man who appeared to be in charge.
The old man shouted toward one of the huts and in less than a minute a young man, about the same age as Mark but dressed in pants that looked too short and a cut-off T-shirt, trotted out with a container of water.
Mark brought the water to Gabrielle. The container looked to be made from animal hide with an attached strap that would allow for hanging over the neck and shoulder.
“Thank you,” the boy said to her.
She took a long sip from the water, then wiped her mouth. A.J. followed the move with far too much interest.
“No problem,” she told the kid.
A.J. felt his patience thinning. They needed to be on their way. So did the villagers and these kids. They didn’t have time for drawn-out farewells.
“Let’s go,” she said before he could.
He resisted the urge to toss back something inane like ’bout time. He didn’t know why it bugged the hell out of him that she’d bonded so quickly with a stranger. Male at that. And a kid, he reminded himself. Though he hadn’t actually looked like a kid. Fourteen or fifteen maybe. Tall, well-muscled frame.
Enough, Braddock. He outright refused to label the emotion nagging at him. In his adult life, no one had ever caused him to lose his bearing so fully.
“Am I leading the way?” she asked, “or are you?”
He paused. Tossed her an annoyed glare. “I am.” He started forward again, didn’t look back. He didn’t let himself dwell on just how low his cognitive level had dropped within minutes of finding himself in her presence.
They descended the rocky trail for about ten minutes before she spoke again. Yet he’d been keenly aware of her presence every single step of the way.
“So are you turning me over to the police? I only shot at that guy to keep him from hurting those kids. I didn’t mean to kill him. It was an accident as well as self-defense.”
Considering she’d already spent eighteen months in prison, he doubted she looked forward to a return trip.
“Nope. I figure you did this country a favor.”
She hastened her step to stay even with him. “Then where are you taking me? Back to the Colby Agency?”
He stopped, leveled his gaze on hers though he fully understood he would likely regret it. “Yes. And you’re not going to give me any trouble. You made a mistake, you have to make it right before you do something truly stupid.”
The pouch of water she’d held close to her chest ever since the kid gave it to her suddenly flopped off her shoulder. His gaze followed the drop then abruptly jerked back up to find the snub nose of a .38 staring him in the face.
“No offense, Braddock, but I have other plans.”
Damn. He was going to have to do this the hard way.
“Does that kid who slipped you the weapon know you came here to kill his father?”
She flinched but didn’t waiver as he’d hoped she would.
“Guess not,” he allowed, with a knowing look at the weapon.
“I’m not going back until this is done.”
The determination in her tone told him she’d made up her mind and nothing short of death was going to change it.
“Do you really believe you can take on a guy like Trevor Sloan?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “You won’t survive the encounter, Gabrielle. You need to cut your losses and while you’re at it, you need to get the real story on what happened between him and your father.”
Now that appeared to give her pause.
“Don’t even pretend you know what you’re talking about, Braddock,” she returned. “You don’t know anything about this except what Victoria told you.”
“And you only know what your alcoholic mother told you.”
He hated himself for saying it even before the words were fully out of his mouth. The glimmer of hurt he saw in those gray eyes told him he’d gone too far. But the pain was immediately replaced with fury.
“Give me the weapons, yours and mine,” she ordered.
“You’re making a mistake, Gabrielle.” He tried again. “Wake up before it’s too late.”
A disgruntled voice in the distance had both of them wheeling in that direction.
Gabrielle hissed a curse.
The sounds of the three men thrashing around in the underbrush told A.J. they were headed straight for their position.
“We’ll have to divert them,” he suggested quietly, palming his weapon. “We don’t need them wandering any closer to the village.”
“You’re right, we have to head them off.”
Surprised at her ready agreement, his gaze locked with hers.
“Then we’ll finish this,” she added.
“Then we’ll finish it,” he agreed.
With that settled, she grabbed the water and they ran like hell, making enough noise to attract the hearing impaired.
Chapter Seven
Bullets whipped through the trees, tearing bark from the trunks and splitting the leaves of underbrush.
Gabrielle ran like hell. She didn’t dare glance behind her. Wasn’t sure exactly where Braddock was. He was a big guy, he could take care of himself. And right now, it was pretty much every man for him or herself.
Waist-high bushes dragged down her speed. The higher undercanopy of smaller trees slapped at her face and blocked her view. Still she didn’t slow down.
The occasional shout from one of her pursuers told her they were nowhere near ready to give up.
Damn.
The only thing she could do was keep moving.
“This way!”
She almost stumbled as Braddock rushed across her path.
What the hell was he doing?
No time to figure it out. She ran after him. Wherever he was headed he sure seemed to have some destination in mind. That was more than she had.
A hand abruptly grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to the right. She slammed against Braddock’s hard body. He stumbled back several steps, taking her with him. Darkness totally engulfed them both.
Gabrielle’s chest seized as she sucked in a lungful of dank, musty air.
Cave.
As her eyes adjusted, she could see the opening where Braddock had waited for her to pass. One quick snatch and they basically tumbled in together. Thankfully the bushes and saplings crowding around the entrance pretty much blocked it from view.
“How did you find this place?” She kept her voice low, a fierce whisper. Mainly it ticked her off that he’d been the one to save their skin.
“I noticed it this morning when I was fishing for your trail.”
“Lucky for us,” she muttered. She shouldn’t be surprised at his resourcefulness. He’d spent half a lifetime in the Marines. He’d probably done this a lot.
“I thought so.”
Gabrielle froze at the sound of rustling foliage. They were close now. At least two of them. She bit down on her lower lip as the racket grew louder. What if they noticed the cave and looked inside? Would the enemy be able to see them in the darkness? The bastards might not notice Braddock since he wore dark clothing. Jeans, tee and button-down shirt all were navy. Even his fancy hiking boots were dark.
She, on the other hand, wore khaki pants that were stained with bloody handprints where she’d attempted to help the woman. The white tee and gray hooded sweatshirt didn’t exactly blend in with the current environment, but then she hadn’t expected to be running for her life in the mountains of Mexico.
One of the men shouted to the other that the area was clear. His voice sounded as if he were right outside their hiding place. Gabrielle shivered. She couldn’t help it. Braddock’s arms tightened around her and she shivered again, this time it wasn’t about fear. Damn him. She didn’t like that he could make her do that. But then, she had to admit, that she could get used to the fe
el of him snuggled up against her really fast.
She shifted to put some space between them.
His arms loosened with her movement but he didn’t let go. Was he afraid she’d make a run for it? No way. Better the enemy she knew than the one she didn’t.
The thought pinged her conscience. Braddock was her enemy, technically. She had to remember that, couldn’t afford to let her guard down with him no matter how badly she wanted to.
Silence settled as the commotion outside the cave faded.
Long minutes passed and Braddock gave no indication that he wanted to get moving. Gabrielle worked at controlling her breathing and the shaky sensation that being this close to him in the dark had obviously set off.
It was totally stupid, but she couldn’t stop the reaction. Maybe it was fatigue. She was tired. She’d hardly had any sleep and hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. As hard and as often as she worked out, her typical routine didn’t come close to paralleling the physical rigors she’d endured since rescuing those kids.
A frown wrinkled her forehead, punctuated the headache she’d tried to ignore for the last hour. How had she ended up rescuing Sloan’s kids? Well, one of them was his anyway. She imagined that he considered the younger one his own, as well. The memory of those dark eyes nagged at her still. She felt certain Josh was her biological half-brother. Another piece of the past she hadn’t known about.
“We need to make a decision.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice though he spoke softly. Maybe it was just the reminder of how close he was. Right behind her.
“What kind of decision?” If he expected her to just give up and forget about settling her score with Sloan, he could forget it. She hadn’t come this far to walk away.
“Whether or not we’re going to attempt to walk out of here now or wait until dark.”
The sound of his voice whispering over her skin made her tremble again.
“Are you all right?”
She jerked away from him. “I’m fine. I’m hungry, that’s all.” It was true.
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw. She didn’t have to see the action, though she could make out some details now, she heard the rasp as his palm slid over the stubble on his jaw. More of those goose bumps tripped one over the other on her skin.