by Karen Anders
Going all out, and getting all in.
If luck was on their side, the Jeep would pass right by them and not even realize it. Best-case scenario.
He noticed that Maria had followed his order, but Kinley was still looking at him.
“Kinley, do as I say. Trust me. I’m going balls to the wall. Get ready. Keep that beautiful red head down. If this doesn’t pan out, there’s going to be some shooting, and they’ll be shooting back. Hang on.”
He pushed the coupe even harder, thundering around the curves, trying to get as many seconds ahead as possible so that the chasing Jeep didn’t see him do the bootleg. The acceleration was enough to convince Kinley there was going to be some power sliding happening in just a few seconds. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Kinley duck down.
“Oh, my God. This is your plan.”
“Yep, sugar, this is my plan. Hang on!”
He checked his rearview again, and when he saw no headlights, he worked the clutch and downshifted. Then the white lines of the passing lane started slipping beneath those beautiful, traction-for-days tires, and he executed the maneuver. It was textbook perfect.
The vehicle spun around, tires screeching, brakes heating. Beau hit the lights and slid her right up against the dirt wall like greased lightning. The car came to a complete stop. All that sounded in the interior was their hard breathing as they all caught their breaths. They skulked on the muddy and slim shoulder of the road, silent and dark, waiting for the Jeep to zoom by.
Damn. His heart raced as sweat soaked into the neckline of his shirt and collected beneath his arms. His heart was in his throat, but he didn’t waste a second. He reached for the submachine gun and laid it across the open window. The Jeep flew past, a buzz of sound and color.
He released the brakes working the clutch and rolled the vehicle back onto the road. It was all downhill from here. He punched the lights on and hit the gas. A quarter of a mile later, he swore as another Jeep passed them, squealed to a halt and started to turn around. No bootleg for him, just a three-pointer.
Damn them. Communication must have gone out once Beau and Kinley had assaulted the camp, and they’d called for reinforcements. There would be no quarter if they caught them. None. They’d kill him and Kinley and take Maria again.
Not friggin’ happening.
The headlights were soon in his rearview and that other Jeep was probably on the way back.
A spitting, cracking ding-ding-ding and the explosion of the driver’s-side mirror left no doubt in his mind that they were running for their lives. Bits of glass flew as the mirror fragmented, leaving nothing left.
Ah, damn, they weren’t going to get their deposit back.
The Crossed Swords Cartel was out for blood and the whole group had been alerted. Well, they were going to be very disappointed.
Beau stomped the gas. Their only hope now was to outrun them, but as Beau came around the next curve, he hit the brakes, fishtailing the Mercedes and sending them all forward as the Jeep tapped them from behind. Beau wrestled with the wheel to keep the Mercedes on the road and from rear-ending a freaking outmoded camel bus, a hitched cab and trailer full of people in his lane. A red truck, loaded down with produce—pineapples, melons, tomatoes and a starchy plant called malanga—was approaching from the other direction, both of them moving way, way too slow. He braked, swore, braked harder, then swore harder still before slamming them, shaking the back end of the car violently as he went from bat-out-of-hell ballistic to turtle-slow-as-hell.
They were dead unless he could get them around this mess and quick. The trucker’s timing sucked. It slowly rumbled forward, blocking off any escape. Kinley raised her head to see what was going on and her face blanched when she saw the scenario and realized they were trapped.
There was no time to do anything at this point. The Mercedes was rolling way too fast. The Jeep crowded his tailpipe and another burst of gunfire ripped into the side of the car. In the distance, Beau saw the other Jeep catching up.
Suddenly, Kinley grabbed his semiauto and rolled down the window. Leaning out, she opened up on them, sending the cartel boys ducking. The Jeep swerved and dropped back.
Everything was happening in split seconds. He held the wheel in a death grip, worked the brakes and prayed and cursed at the same time. Just a millisecond from impact, the trucker rolled far enough past the camel bus to create a Hail Mary pass, and Beau grabbed Kinley’s shirt and jerked her back into the vehicle as he shot through. The fit was so tight that the rear lights of the truck went by him less than six inches from his window. The shattered remains of the car’s side mirror were sheared off completely.
The trucker overreacted and the heavily laden vehicle skidded, produce flying everywhere, smashing into the windshield of the pursuing Jeeps, sending them careening and swerving to miss the truck as it slewed sideways. The trucker came to a safe stop, but effectively blocked any possible pursuit by the second Jeep.
Beau gunned the Mercedes and put as much real estate between them as they could. As soon as they hit the outskirts of Havana, it started to rain again, a lashing storm that would help to effectively slow down any pursuit. It’d probably keep the cartel boys out of their hair, at least for the night.
“Do they know who you are, Maria?” Beau asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. When Miguel couldn’t tell them where the pictures of Montoya were, I had to speak.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t know.” Tears welled, spilling over and down her cheeks, her voice clogged with emotion. “He gave them to me as collateral. That’s why he had to talk to me. He gave me the choice.” She sobbed softly. “I thought I could save his life, but Miguel refused to be used against me. He attacked them and they shot him. They blew up his clinic as a way to show everyone they cannot stand against Las Espadas.”
“Where are the pictures?”
“At our residence, but I refused to tell them anything, so they still don’t know. But they will go to my home and search. I’m sure of it.”
“They probably have already been there,” Kinley said.
Beau nodded. “Agreed.”
“Where do you live, Maria?”
She gave him her address and directed him. He drove and parked a block over from her house.
“Tell me where it is and I’ll go get it.”
“It’s in a floor safe in my sewing room. The curtain hanger on the farthest window is the release mechanism.” She gave him the combination.
“Kinley, get in the driver’s seat. Any sign of trouble, you get the hell out of here. Text me if that happens and we’ll rendezvous.”
“The key is in the planter right beside the front door.”
He nodded. Before he could get out of the car, she grabbed his arm. “Please, there is a picture of me and my husband on a table in the sewing room. Could you...”
“Yes. I’ll get it. Do you want anything else? We will have to travel light.” He reached back and grabbed her shoulder. “You’ll have to come with us. You know that, right? We can’t leave you here. We can offer you asylum in the US.”
Her face crumpled and she rubbed over the moisture there. Nodding, she squeezed his forearm. “Thank you for saving me. I have no illusions they would have let me go like they promised. I would have just ended up in some shallow grave.” After a moment, she said, “My passport is in the safe as well as ten thousand American dollars. That’s all I need. We have off-shore accounts and Miguel has provided for me quite diligently.” Her voice caught on a sob.
Beau exited the car. It was dark and raining hard, the wind plastering his clothes against his skin.
As he crossed through yards as a direct route to her house, he could see there was no need for a key. The front door was open and when he got inside, it was trashed. Their belongings strewn everywhere. Most of
the valuable stuff was already looted.
He searched and found her sewing room, hurrying. It might be dark and stormy, but he couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t come back or had paid one of her neighbors to watch out for activity here.
Using the face of his phone to light the way, he found the curtain hanger and pulled straight down. He heard the release and swung his phone that way, crouching to minimize the illumination.
He flashed the light and quickly worked the combination until it snicked open. He grabbed a brown folder and pulled it out. Opening it, he saw that it was the information they needed. He took pictures with his phone and sent them to Chris. He reached in and grabbed the money and Maria’s passport. Lastly he located the photo she had described. The glass was broken. With a quick trip to the kitchen, he found a plastic baggie and slipped the brown folder and the frame inside and zipped it closed.
Tucking everything under his shirt and into the waistband of his jeans, he headed back out into the rain, staying low.
Back at the car, Kinley moved over as Beau knocked on the window and slipped back inside.
Pulling out the package from his waistband, he handed everything to Kinley who stowed it into a small backpack.
“Mission accomplished. I sent everything to Chris with instructions to alert Stafford.”
Kinley breathed a sigh of relief. “What now?”
“I know where we can go,” Maria said.
Beau and Kinley turned to look at her. They needed a place that was safe where they could eat and sleep. Tomorrow they would be heading for the extraction point.
“We have a safe house. Miguel again. It’s under a bogus name, not far from here.”
“Okay, we’ll go there if you’re sure it’s safe.”
“I’m sure. We’ve never even been there. Miguel hired people to furnish it and paid cash for everything. He was very careful.”
When they pulled up to the safe house, Maria got out of the vehicle and Beau turned to Kinley. “Take over here. After we get the garage open, drive it inside.”
She nodded and Beau caught up to Maria, who was reaching around an exotic plant, presumably for their spare key.
She unlocked the door and rushed to the back of the house and through the kitchen as he followed close behind. She opened a door and punched a switch and the wide door started to lift. As soon as it was possible, Kinley drove the vehicle inside and Maria punched it closed.
“Come inside and I will get you something hot to drink, get cleaned up and into some dry clothes.”
She led the way back into the house and upstairs, where she pulled towels out of the linen closet and drew them into the bedroom.
Kinley was carrying the bag with their changes of clothes.
Maria wasted no time and grabbed clean, dry clothes out of the closet. “Use the shower in here and I will take the one in the hall.”
“That will be fine,” he said, unbuttoning and shrugging out of the dirty and muddy black shirt.
Kinley was pulling stuff out of the bag.
“We’re going to have to lay low here until we get close to extraction. It’s too dangerous to be out in the storm. Lucky break for us as it should keep the cartel buttoned up until the storm passes.”
“After our showers, we’ll go back downstairs. I’ll make us something to hold us over and some good coffee.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Kinley said, heading for the bathroom.
Maria turned to go and he said, “We’ll be down in just a few minutes.”
She nodded, and then looked to the bathroom door. “Kinley was quite fierce and deadly, but she is also kind and gentle. Thank you both.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re welcome. We’re sorry about your husband.”
She nodded and left.
When he entered the bathroom, she was just standing there at the sink looking at her reflection, but he knew that wasn’t what she was seeing. When he touched her shoulder, she turned and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“You were amazing,” he said quietly. “A freaking Amazon warrior.”
“Who says so?”
“Maria says so. And...I say so. So you killed a couple of guys, huh?”
“Yes, and it was completely awful. I know that they would have killed me in a heartbeat. I didn’t underestimate them, but they underestimated me. I took their lives to save us both and that was that.”
“Exactly, chérie. That is that.”
He really had pushed her hard, he thought, and he admired her resilience.
“I’ll wait until you’re done,” he said, retreating.
When she vacated the bathroom, he ran the water and got in to scrub off the grease paint, the sweat and the blood.
Kinley was waiting for him when he got out, sitting fully dressed at the foot of the bed. It took everything he had to keep his hands to himself.
She rose and they embraced. “I wish we were alone,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders. He slid his hand heavily down her spine, in a soothing caress.
“Me, too,” he murmured.
Her smile was bone melting and he swept his palm from her throat to her cheek, molding her flesh, his gaze lingering over her. Her eyes held awareness of her power—her shape like an hourglass, plush and ripe, wrapping him in her scent and sensation. Beau felt privileged, every moment he’d ever spent with another woman obliterated as if those faceless, nameless women had never existed. She touched his face, slid her thumb over his lips. It was a simple thing, but he wanted more of it. He wanted to connect to her deeply and seal the connection tighter.
He slid his hand up her side, crushing back the need to bury himself inside Kinley. Out of respect for Maria, he reined in this wild hunger for her.
She was more than under his skin. She was inside him. And when she wrapped her arms around his neck, she took him with her, away from danger and isolation, ignoring everything about the mission.
“Beau,” she said, almost choking on his name. “Please just a kiss—” Her fingertips ran over his face, her breath hot in his ear. “I need you.”
His feelings tumbled over each other.
* * *
Kinley sighed when he groaned and drew in air through clenched teeth. A deep heavy heat coiled through her body as his mouth rolled over hers, drawing her into him. She held him tighter.
“Beau,” she breathed, wanting his heat, his energy, the life of him pulsing through her. Her hands swept over his contours, her fingertips molding to curved muscle and man.
“I’m a mess,” she whispered in his ear, his big hands pushing back her hair.
“So am I,” he growled.
He was an experience—something from the tightly guarded places she’d rarely visited. His kiss alone twisted her up in a net, tying her tight. In knots. She didn’t know if she wanted to keep him as close as possible or turn in the other direction.
She cupped his face, devouring his mouth, thrusting her hips a bit, and he grunted and cursed, then nudged her thighs wide and stood between them. She took what he offered, and a million thoughts ran through her mind, nothing sticking long enough to make sense. She felt freed, her need beyond passion, beyond control.
Kinley stared up at him, never expected to see this man humbled by anything. Yet he was, she could see it in his eyes, his expression as if he was questioning everything he knew, and her throat tightened. The world, the enemy saw strength and deadly skill. Kinley saw need and unguarded man. She loved the exquisite intensity of his gaze trapped in hers.
His breath shuddered, almost gasping. “You have no idea what this is doing to me, do you?”
“How can I not?” she said, brushing her fingers across his hair, caressing down the side of his face. Gently she laid her mouth over his, licking the line of his lips slowly
before sliding her tongue between them and making them both crazy.
Her whispers mingled with the sound of the rain, their secrets bared and unspoken drifting between them.
“Coffee’s ready,” Maria called.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her, and she clung to him. Tomorrow was going to be precarious, dangerous and might just take their lives. But she had found something here that had changed her, changed her so profoundly, and she hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface. It also frightened her more than going into battle, more than losing her life. It scared her down to her soul, to the core of her heart where she had loved so unconditionally, she hadn’t been able to get over it. Now there was another man, a man that meant as much to her. How could she open herself to that again? How could she take it and feel completely sure that she wouldn’t go through the same kind of agony?
When they left the room, Kinley saw that Maria had pulled out the photograph of her and Miguel smiling with their arms around each other. Her heart broke for the woman who had obviously loved the man who had been taken from her. She couldn’t stop that fear again. It was raw and real and scored her insides.
“I suggest we all sleep in the same room, close to an exit. I like the family room. Two couches and a chair, sliding-glass door and closer to the garage.”
He followed Maria into the kitchen where she poured the coffee. She then started pulling things out of the refrigerator. As she started assembling a meal, she said, “This asylum. Am I able to keep my belongings and my assets?”
“Yes, asylum just means the US is accepting you as a refugee. We don’t strip people who are already displaced. Do you have family here?”
“No. My family is gone. I only had Miguel. As I am sure you are aware, I am much younger than my husband. We’ve only been married for a year. I met him when he was called to the hospital where I worked in Emergency. He performed an operation on a victim of a terrible accident and what would have been a disfigurement. Miguel is...was a genius, so talented.” She wiped away her tears. “We planned on having children...”