by CJ Bishop
“Nope.”
“What the…” She swallowed, her voice suddenly thick, and vacated her chair. “They can’t. Uncle Kane barely held it together this last time, and you…” Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at Axel; he had been a wreck. “They just got home. Why would they leave again?”
“It has something to do with the kids they rescued from the prison and the families in that border station. That agent—Alvarez—says there’s a safe place for them, but he needs help transporting them. Otherwise, they’ll either be deported back to Mexico or worse… end up back in the hands of traffickers.”
Zoe groaned. “Dammit.”
“But they won’t just disappear this time,” Axel said.
“Shit,” Zoe whispered. “Are you okay with this? Clint’s only been back a couple of days—can you let him go again so soon?”
Axel ran his fingers through his curls. “I, uh… I’m going with him.”
“You’re what?” Zoe screeched.
“We talked about it,” he said. “It was his idea.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t go.”
“Why?”
“What if it’s dangerous?”
Axel smiled. “I’m not helpless. I can use a weapon and I can fight. And I’ll be with Clint and Cochise, plus Cruz and his men.”
“Cruz?” Zoe frowned. “They’re going, too?”
“I think so. They’re going to need a lot of help moving the families.”
“So, why do you need to go? They’ll have enough people to help.”
“I want to go. I want to be with Clint. It was too hard being away from him last time, and who knows how long he’ll be gone this time?”
Zoe twisted the soda can on the table. “But I need you here. You’re my best friend. I don’t need another person to worry about.”
Axel reached over and grasped her hand. “I’ll be all right. Do you really think Clint would let anything happen to me? He’d massacre an army if they looked sideways at me. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
Zoe bit her lip and blinked. “I don’t care,” she mumbled, gripping his hand. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Come on.” Axel stood and pulled her up into his arms. “Everything is going to be all right. We’ll help the families and then we’ll come home. I promise.”
Zoe hugged him hard and buried her face in his shoulder. “I still don’t want you to go.”
CHAPTER 3
“Why now?”
The Egyptian broke the stretch of silence so abruptly that Clint flinched. “What?” He cleared his throat. “Why now what?”
Cochise cast him a sidelong look from behind the wheel. “Why bring Axel on the job? You’re always focused on keeping him safe—how is this keeping him safe?” He eyed the cowboy. “Explain your logic?”
Clint wasn’t sure that he could—even to himself. He gave it a try. “It’s different with Axel than it is with Kane,” he said. “Kane doesn’t want to be involved in our world. He misses you when you’re away, but he has no interest in joining you on the job. Axel wants to be a part of it all. He needs to feel like we’re partners—in every way—and that I trust him to have my back.”
“Do you?” Cochise stared straight ahead. “Do you trust him one hundred fucking percent to have your back when it really counts?” He looked at Clint. “Because if it’s only ninety-nine percent—you need to leave him home.”
“One hundred percent,” Clint said. “He saved my life Christmas Eve. He saved our kids. He was ready to take that fucker out himself—you saw it. Cory trained him well. He’s an asset.”
The Egyptian didn’t respond, his face straining a bit. He and Clint were “partners” on the job and had each other’s back. Clint frowned; was he jealous of Axel? The longer he studied Cochise’s tense expression, the more he recognized it for what it was. The Egyptian wasn’t jealous. It was something else.
“You’re worried about him,” Clint spoke low. “You don’t want him in harm’s way.”
Cochise held his silence.
“I’m worried about him, too, but he needs this from me.”
Cochise released a stiff breath and shot a darting glance at Clint. The man could say a damn lot in just a look. And Clint had mastered the art of deciphering those looks.
He nodded. “You’re not just worried about him. You’re worried about me—if something happens to him.” Clint understood the concern. “Just to be clear… it would fuck me up just as bad if something happened to you. When we thought Vincent had killed you—I lost my shit. Every time we go on a job, my worst fucking fear is coming back alone.”
Had he ever admitted that—out loud—to his Egyptian brother? Cochise didn’t need to be told—just as Clint didn’t need to hear it from his friend. Even so, maybe it needed to be said from time to time.
Letting out a deep, almost guttural breath, Cochise mumbled, “Mine, too.”
Clint felt a little foolish at the warm sensation that infiltrated his chest.
You’re getting soft, cowboy.
• • •
Déjà vu struck Axel when Cory burst through his front door without knocking, a spark of fury in his eyes. “Is Clint here?”
“No…” Axel had stepped into the living room doorway when he heard the front door open, a coffee mug and dish towel in hand. He continued drying the cup, a pinch in his brow. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I assume you know they’re talking about leaving again?”
Axel nodded. “Yeah.” He retreated to the kitchen and placed the mug on a cup hook near the coffee maker. Cory followed him.
“What the hell is going on? They’ve only been home for like two days.”
“How did you find out they were leaving?”
“From my dad, just a little while ago.”
“Did you go by his place?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Axel frowned. “Clint wasn’t there?”
“What? No.”
“He and Cochise left earlier to go talk to your dad and Angelo.”
“How long ago?”
“Long enough that they should’ve been there when you showed up.” Where were they?
Cory rubbed his mouth, his breath quick. “Maybe they ran an errand or something first.”
“Maybe.” It was possible—so why did he have an unsettling needling in his gut? Did he think Clint lied to him about where they were going? Why would he lie? He didn’t have to hide things from Axel.
“Dad mentioned something about them helping that agent guy move some illegal immigrants to a sanctuary city or something?”
Axel nodded. “We don’t know the details yet. He’s supposed to be here tomorrow. That’s what Clint and Cochise were going to talk to your dad about—they wanted to set up the meeting at the mansion.”
“Dad mentioned that, too,” Cory mumbled.
Drying his hands, Axel dropped the towel on the counter, took a deep breath, and told Cory the part he really wouldn’t like. “I’m going, too.”
“What? Going where?”
“With the men… on the job.”
Cory blinked, just staring at Axel as his words sank in. His head shook slowly. “Like fuck you are.”
“Clint and I talked about it—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you talked about it with the fucking Pope—you’re not going.”
Axel was both touched and a little offended by his friends’ reluctance to let him go. First Zoe, now Cory. He loved that they cared so much—but did they also think he wasn’t capable of handling himself out there? Cory had trained him. He, of all people, should trust Axel’s skills.
“How did you get Clint to agree to that, anyway?”
“It was his idea.”
“What?” Cory looked stunned. “Has he lost his fucking mind?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Axel smiled small. “I’ll be okay. Because of you—I can take care of myself. You equipped me to be Clint’s partner.”
“That wa
sn’t my intention. I just wanted Clint to see that you could…” He sighed as the sentence slipped away.
“That I could take care of myself?”
Cory scowled. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I wasn’t,” Axel said with a smile. “I was just finishing your thought.”
Cory dropped into a chair at the table. “I’ve been out there, Axel—a shitload of times. You can’t prepare for how you’ll react in a situation, because you never know what’s going to happen. And even if you knew ahead of time—things happen so fucking fast, and usually when you least expect it.” He hung his head and traced circles on the table with his index finger. “And it doesn’t matter if you’re right next to Clint the whole time.” His words thickened and strained. “Shay was right beside me… practically pressed up against me…” He shook his head, eyes filling. “… and I couldn’t do a fucking thing to save him. We didn’t see it coming. It was over before I even knew what happened… and then it was too late. Shay was dead.”
His heart pounding, Axel stared at his friend. He remembered the horror of that loss, how hard it hit Cory.
Cory sniffed and raised wet eyes to Axel’s face. “We thought we were prepared to go in there, thought we knew what we were up against. We didn’t. No one can ever know for sure what’s waiting for them… or how close to death they really are. When someone’s got you in the crosshairs—you don’t know it, you don’t fucking feel it.” He rose from the chair and approached Axel. “I lost one best friend…” He cupped Axel’s face and touched brows. “I can’t fucking lose another.”
• • •
Through the underground channels, he was known as the black Mexican. Few knew his name, and of the few who did, he allowed even fewer to address him by that name.
Clint and Cochise were among the privileged few.
Their privilege didn’t make them stupid as they proceeded with caution, respecting their host by allowing him to speak first.
The black Mexican looked more Mexican than black, his African American heritage peering out through specific aspects of his facial features. “Amigos.”
There was no handshaking—just polite nods.
“Malcolm.” Clint kept his eyes on the man. In his peripheral vision, he noted the position of Malcolm’s men who spread out around them. The Egyptian kept note as well.
“What can I do for you gents?” Malcolm measured Cochise’s height and almost matched his musculature, yet with a leaner, athletic build. He stared at the two men from beneath a heavy brow, eyes little more than black marbles in the gloom of the massive structure.
“We’d like to discuss a proposition.”
Malcolm folded his arms over his thick chest and stroked his jaw. “Business or pleasure?”
A young, muscular black man stood nearby; hawk-like eyes glued to the two gangsters. Clint immediately tagged him as Malcolm’s watchdog. He’d witnessed the same behavior in prison with Jorge’s watchdog, Hei—and John Boy’s watchdog, Mannix. Clint suspected they were dicking each other as well, but that was irrelevant.
“Business,” Clint replied. “Concerning… merchandise…” He stared into the man’s black orbs. “… that we’re moving from the border.”
His eyes narrowing, the black Mexican inquired, “Stolen merchandise?”
Clint nodded.
“Chasers?”
“Expected.”
“Restrictions?”
“None that I’m aware of.”
Malcolm unfolded his arms. “Let’s talk.”
• • •
“Can I talk open and honest with you?” Kane glanced at the occupant of the passenger seat. “Because I haven’t been completely honest with Cochise. But this is confidential—it has to stay between us.” He reached over and held out his hand. “No repeating any of this—promise?”
Sebastian chuffed and plopped his enormous paw into Kane’s palm.
Kane smiled, shook his paw, then ruffled the Newfoundland’s ears. “I knew I could count on you, my furry friend.” He returned both hands to the wheel, his smile waning, a heavy sigh escaping him. “I don’t want him to go, Sebastian.” Kane swallowed. “When he came home, and I opened the door and saw him standing there… the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders.” His throat tightened, and he released a shaky breath. “And when he said he was leaving again—the weight dropped back down. But I can’t tell him that. I can’t… I can’t ask him not to go—because he has to, and I know he has to. And if I asked him not to… that would be unfair, and I’d be a shit to do it.”
Easing his foot off the gas as his vision blurred, Kane gripped the wheel tighter. The canine overflowed the passenger seat, his thick paws draped across the divider, head on his paws. He looked up at Kane with big brown eyes.
“I know it’s different this time,” Kane whispered. “He isn’t disappearing into thin air without telling us where he’s going or what he’s doing. But…” His breath shuddered in his throat. “But he’ll still be gone… I don’t know how long… and it hurts.”
The road blurred and distorted in front of him. Kane slowed the SUV and pulled onto the shoulder, coming to a full stop. He took a few deep breaths as a tear rolled down his face. Sebastian raised his head and sat up, looking out the window as if expecting to be let out.
“They need him… the kids, the families…” He wiped the tear from his cheek. “I don’t want to take him away from them. I can’t. I won’t.” Kane hung his head, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed the steering wheel. “But we need him, too. I need him. And the thought of letting him go again is killing me.” His neck cords strained as he battled the sobs building in his chest. “Maybe what hurts the most is that I can’t tell him. I can’t put that on him. He’s tough on the outside but…” He sniffed, brushing fresh tears from his face. “… but he loves us, and I know how hard it is for him to turn around and leave like this after just coming home. And I won’t say anything to him that will make him feel worse. I refuse to do that to him.”
He laid his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes. Warm tears drained down his temples. Sebastian whined and crawled partway across the divider and shoved his head in Kane’s lap.
Kane smiled, his chin trembling. He dropped one hand to the dog and stroked his fur. “What if one day he decides it’s too hard to do what he does… and still have a family? Will he just go away and not come back… thinking it’s best for everyone?” Quiet sobs filled his throat. “When he disappeared this last time, and we didn’t know if he was ever coming home… it felt like everything inside me died. If he hadn’t come back, I-I don’t think I would have recovered from that loss… ever. I don’t think our family would have recovered.”
Letting out a shuddered breath, Kane raised his head. He eased Sebastian off the divider and opened it up, plucking a few Kleenexes from the small box inside. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose.
“Thanks for listening.” He patted Sebastian’s gigantic head and stroked his ears. “It isn’t as if I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I invited him into my life. As much as it hurts right now, I’m not sorry I let him in. I’ll never be sorry. I just…” He swallowed through a pinched throat. “I just hope he’s never sorry, either. He’s a man of few words. It isn’t easy to get him to admit what he’s feeling deep down inside. Sometimes…” He trembled, fresh tears forming. “Sometimes I’m scared that he doesn’t really want to marry me.” He looked at the dog through watery eyes. “Is that crazy?”
Sebastian lifted his head and woofed.
Kane sniffed, wiped his eyes, and smiled. “Thanks, buddy.” He ran his hand over the dog’s wide head. “I needed to hear that.”
CHAPTER 4
“Do you think we’ll need him?” Cochise set the car on the route that would take them to the mansion.
“Maybe not,” Clint said. “We’ll know more after we meet with Alvarez. On the phone, he didn’t say anything about the dangers of the job. We’ll have to watch o
ut for the cops and ICE, but we should be all right if we avoid the interstates and take a more rural route.”
“Any idea where this sanctuary is located?”
“No.”
Cochise went silent, driving on muscle memory as his mind turned to other matters. Such as—how long would it take them to transport the families to the sanctuary? How long would he and Clint have to be away from home this time? Longer than last time, he was certain of that. He couldn’t put down the look on Kane’s face when he learned they were leaving again. None of what he saw in Kane’s eyes made it to open air. And it never would—if Kane had anything to say about it—because that was the kind of man he was; who would bear the burden himself rather than lay it on someone else… especially someone he loved.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Clint whispered.
Looking at the cowboy, Cochise frowned. “What?”
Clint stared forward, his body gripped in tension. “That’s what I told them. The kids from the prison. In the van, at the border station…” He swallowed. “I told them that Alvarez would take care of them and they didn’t have to be afraid anymore. I felt like I was lying to them, creating a sense of false security.” His face hardened. “I hated leaving them there, knowing they would be recycled back into the shit show.”
The cowboy rubbed his eyes and stared out the side window.
“They’re not.”
Clint turned his head. “What?”
“They’re not going back into the shit show,” Cochise said. “We’ll get them to the sanctuary.”
“Yeah. We will.” Clint turned his eyes to the side window again. “I didn’t want us to leave them again so soon.”
“Who?”
“Our families.” Clint cleared his throat. “Maybe that’s why I want Axel to come with us.” He sighed. “It’s a piss-poor reason. And maybe a bad call on my part. Selfish. You don’t get to bring anyone with you—so why should I?”
“Like you said, Axel and Kane are different. Axel is an asset. Kane needs to be home with the family.”