Her Passionate Hero

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Her Passionate Hero Page 5

by Caitlyn O'Leary


  “But from who?” Aliana persisted.

  “Ultimately, it was Mrs. Lasson who told me, but that was three hours after it happened. Why didn’t the police inform me immediately? Tell me why I’m not your emergency contact. You’re mine.”

  “Ah, grandmother, I just never want to worry you,” she said softly. She hated thinking of her wonderful grandmother getting a call in the middle of the night if something happened to her. Better if Lottie contacted her.

  “I don’t want to find out you were in the hospital three days after you’re out. Or, God forbid, the day of your funeral.” Her voice sounded like it had been grated through a shredder.

  She pressed her grandmother’s warm hand closer to her cheek. “I’m so sorry,” her voice trembled. “Please, forgive me.”

  “I’ll only let this slide because you’re hurting, but as soon as you’re on your feet, you have to put me in your phone. In the meantime, tell me what’s going on. Why does somebody want you dead?”

  “What are you talking about? It must have been a gas leak.”

  “I’ve talked to the detectives in charge of the investigation and Officer Robinson. They say a bomb was planted in your apartment.”

  All the blood left her body. How could she be alive if her blood was gone?

  “Aliana, what’s wrong? Nurse! Come immediately,” her grandmother cried, switching to English.

  A nurse followed by Lottie and Ernie came into the room. The nurse immediately looked up at the monitors. “Your blood pressure has gone up significantly. Can you calm down?”

  “Ernie, was my townhome bombed?”

  “Yeah, Honey, it was. Do you have any idea who might have wanted to do such a thing?”

  She looked down at the blanket and shook her head.

  “She’s lying.” Lottie and her grandmother said at the same time.

  “Yeah, I got that,” Ernie said wryly. “She does that a lot.”

  “No, she doesn’t. My Aliana is a good girl.” Her grandmother slapped Ernie on his arm.

  “Tell your good girl to tell the truth then. We need to capture the men who want her dead.”

  Breathe and keep calm. Aliana watched dispassionately as the nurse studied her blood pressure. “It’s better.” The nurse proclaimed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Do I need to be here?”

  “The doctor wants you in here overnight for observation. You have a bad concussion. As long as you have someone that can stay with you, you can probably go home tomorrow.”

  “She can stay with me.” Again, Lottie and her grandmother almost spoke in one voice.

  “I don’t need to stay with anyone.”

  “Really, where do you plan to live?” Ernie asked.

  Aliana’s shoulders drooped.

  “Look on the bright side Chica, you never got that cat I kept telling you to adopt.”

  Aliana swallowed back bile, thinking about the cat she had stroked at the animal shelter. She had never told Lottie, but she had considered getting the beautiful Siamese, but something had held her back. It had seemed like too much of a commitment.

  “We just need someone to watch over her for a couple of days. They should stay with her the entire time,” a new voice said.

  Aliana looked up to see a man who she assumed was a doctor, walk into her crowded room.

  “That would be me,” her grandmother said. “Carlotta has to go to work.”

  “I can take time off,” Lottie protested.

  “How soon before I can go back to work?” Aliana asked the doctor.

  “You should be fine by next week, barring any complications,” he answered.

  “What should I be on the lookout for?” her grandmother asked.

  “I’ll give you a printout.”

  He came over and listened to Aliana’s heart, then looked at her pupils. “You were very lucky you landed in the grass and the door wasn’t the best quality. I would say God was looking over you.”

  “Except for the part that someone put a bomb in her house,” Lottie said angrily.

  “Aliana, there are two detectives who are going to want to talk to you tomorrow,” Ernie said. “You need to be straight with them.”

  She looked at her grandmother, who looked so much like her mother. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t put her mother at risk. It was a miracle Mateo hadn’t targeted her treasured Babička. But she didn’t know what she was going to do. Was she going to have to give up on Nicolas in order to keep her mother safe? God, please help her find an answer she prayed.

  “What are you thinking?” Lottie asked.

  “What?”

  “I don’t like that expression on your face,” her friend said.

  “I think it’s time for my patient to get some rest.” The doctor started to usher everyone out.

  “What time will she be discharged?” Ernie asked.

  “About one o’clock.”

  “The detectives will be here about noon.”

  “I’ll be here at eleven with some clothes and your grandmother.”

  “Babička, how did you get here?” Aliana asked her grandmother.

  “I took a cab.” God save her from stubborn women.

  “Don’t do that again. Call someone,” Aliana said fiercely. Damn, now her throat and her head hurt.

  “Oh, I’ll call someone,” her grandmother assured her. It sounded like a threat.

  “Out,” the doctor commanded.

  She watched as everyone paraded out of her room. Sakra, she needed a plan and fast.

  ***

  Hunter Diaz was dismantling his rifle when his lieutenant walked over to him.

  “That was damn fine shooting. You’ve been getting in extra practice.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ve been pretty quiet since the mission in Cameroon. Is there anything you want to talk about?” Gray asked quietly.

  Hunter shook his head, focusing on packing away his equipment.

  “Let me phrase this another way. I think you and I should grab a beer.”

  Shit. As much as he respected Grayson Tyler, the last thing he needed was for the man to be poking around in his head.

  “Gray, I really appreciate the thought, but I’ve dealt with it. Griff and I have talked. I think it hit him harder since he has a baby girl and all.”

  “That’s what I would have thought, too. But he’s not the one who’s shut down, you are. It’s either a beer or the shrink. Your choice.”

  Fuck.

  “A beer sounds great.”

  Gray grinned and Hunter grimaced. His phone rang. He pulled it out of his duffel and blanched. He’d missed four calls from his grandmother.

  “Grandmother?” he said in Spanish.

  “Come home,” his adopted grandmother said without preamble.

  “What’s wrong?” he clipped out his question, his gut in knots.

  “I need you home now.”

  “Answer my question.” He ignored Gray’s intense regard.

  “Have some respect, and just do what I say.”

  “Mamie,” he growled.

  “Fine. It’s Aliana. She’s in big trouble. Someone blew up her home last night. She almost died. The police aren’t helping. But if you don’t care. Don’t come home.” She hung up.

  He looked down at his phone.

  “Motherfucker!”

  “That’s a lot of anger for a man who just got done talking to his grandmother,” Gray mused.

  “Yeah, well, most men don’t have Rosa Diaz as a grandmother.” He stopped folding and started shoving shit into his duffel. Fuck it all.

  “Why d’you call her Mamie? Why not Abuelita?”

  “She’s only half Mexican. Her mother’s family is Haitian. Mamie is French for grandmother.” He zipped up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, then stared at Gray.

  “Well, that explains why you speak French so well,” Gray murmured to himself. He watched Hunter zip up his duffel. “Going somewhere?” Gray asked blandly.

&nb
sp; “I’m officially requesting leave.”

  “How long?”

  “Fuck if I know.”

  Gray put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Can you listen to me a moment? Really listen?”

  Hunter looked at his lieutenant. In the six years he’d been under the man’s command, he’d only been this somber outside of a mission four times.

  “Yes,” Hunter said solemnly.

  “I can tell something serious is going on up in L.A., but I think your response might be a little over the top.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I know I don’t, but hear me out.”

  Hunter nodded.

  “You were just talking to the woman who you consider your grandmother, then said ‘fuck’ three times. That’s not you. I think this shit with the kidnapped and raped girls in Africa got deep inside your heart, mind, and soul and you haven’t dealt. If you don’t, whatever is going on in L.A. is going to blow up in your face.”

  “With all due respect, Gray, you don’t know fuck all what triggered me. And maybe, just maybe, going to L.A. will be just the thing to finally put this to rest.”

  Gray stared into his eyes. He must have seen something that reassured him. “Take your time then.”

  ***

  A week at most. Mamie had a washing machine he could use. Hell, at this rate, he’d have space left over in his saddlebags. Too bad his rifle wouldn’t fit, But he had packed plenty of extras. Never hurt to be armed when going into enemy territory, and this was enemy fucking territory with a capital ‘F’.

  Hating the idea of any extra space, he packed his body armor. Being a SEAL meant you were a boy scout on steroids. Satisfied, he headed toward the door. He took one last look at his plants. Plants. Who would have guessed it? Thank God for Dex’s cousin, she kept them alive. Of course, the little brat was the reason he had all of them, too. He locked up his apartment and went to his detached garage where his baby was, an Indian Springfield motorcycle, all black and chrome. She’d been needing a long drive. Hell, so had he.

  He’d drive Pacific Coast Highway, wherever he could, on his way up to East L.A. It would help put his head on straight. He should have done this three months ago when he’d gotten back from the mission in Africa.

  Elise. Her pretty voice, whispering horrific things to him in French, telling him what those fuckers had been doing to her and the other orphan girls. It still pissed him off he hadn’t killed more of the Boko Haram fucks. Hunter took some deep breaths of the fresh ocean air as he pulled out onto PCH. Bike was running so smooth, she purred. It was almost worth a smile. Almost.

  Pictures fluttered through his mind. Black girls, abused by adult men, white girls abused by playground bullies, then by teenage bitches—no matter what, they were all hurting. All victims. Each girl evoked the same emotions in him. The need to protect. The need was ingrained at the cellular level, especially when it came to females.

  Gray had been right, the mission had chewed him up, but not for the reason he thought. It had stirred long-buried memories. A time when he thought he’d been doing something worthwhile. Hell, his Alia had made him feel like a nine-foot-tall hero instead of a nine-year-old nothing. Then it had all gone wrong. He still didn’t know how it could have changed. She had meant everything to him. She had been the best thing in his life outside of Mamie since the third grade, then it just ended.

  A little past Laguna Beach, he waved back to the three kids in the back of the SUV who were impressed by a guy on a bike. Concentrate on the road. But that was the problem, he’d always been able to concentrate on six things at once. It’s why he’d excelled during his time in the Las Nuevas Espadas gang and still managed to graduate school with a high enough grade point to be considered for the SEAL teams when he joined the Navy. Hell, the hardest thing had been making time to go to the community pool at the rec center. Why the hell did one of the toughest of the tough all of a sudden need to learn how to swim?

  Hunter grinned. The look on Red Blade’s face when he said he was planning on surfing to impress the ladies had been a sight to behold. The gang leader and his lieutenants thought he was so funny, they just let it pass that he was going to the pool three days a week. Nobody, not Mamie, nobody in the gang, none of the teachers at school, not even his Alia had an inkling of his plan. Nobody except the man who had guided him toward it.

  When he had to get on the Ten freeway to head toward downtown. Hunter decided to reward himself with a double-double burger and fries from In-and-Out Burger. The place he stopped wasn’t a bad neighborhood, but he still gave everyone a stare as he got off his bike to go in to place his order. His bike was in the same pristine shape he’d left it. He sat down at a cement table under a red and white umbrella and chewed his food. He still wasn’t in the right head space to face home. Hell, would he ever be?

  He thought about how he last saw Aliana. It was three days after her father had committed suicide. She had been so distant, and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay.

  He’d stayed at Mamie’s for three days and only had a chance to see her twice. The first time had been at her grandmother’s house after the service at the cemetery. Mamie was with him. Both of them went and paid their respects to Mrs. Novak and Mrs. Jancovik, and standing between them was Aliana. She wouldn’t look at him. Eventually, he found her in the backyard alone on the swing.

  He touched her hand, and she jerked it away. She stumbled out of the swing as she stood up to stand over him. She told him to go away. She didn’t want to see him anymore. She said that she was relieving him of all responsibility. She was never going to be a burden to him again. It had made no fucking sense. Before he could even figure out how to respond, her grandmother rushed out, put her arm around Aliana, and told him to leave.

  He hadn’t left it at that, he had snuck into her bedroom the following night. She was sitting up in bed with her Bible when he climbed through her unlocked window. She watched him do it without saying a word.

  “Talk to me Alia, you have to talk to me. We’ve been writing letters for a year. I’ve told you things I’ve never told another living soul. How can you just tell me to go away?”

  She stared through him.

  She was wearing a pink flannel nightgown with lace at the throat. Her hair was down like it used to be in grade school, flowing around her face. Her skin was like porcelain. She looked at him with sky blue eyes, devoid of emotion.

  “You should leave.”

  “What is that shit about ‘relieving me of responsibility?’ You weren’t making any kind of sense yesterday, Chaquita.”

  “Please leave,” she said politely. She was scaring him.

  He sat down beside her on the bed and pulled her hand into his.

  “You’re not a burden,” he said quietly. “I’ve never seen you as a burden.”

  “Then you’re stupid.”

  He winced. Aliana had never said that, not ever. She looked up at him and bit her lip.

  “I’m sorry Hunter, I didn’t mean it.”

  “Then say what you mean.”

  “You should go on with your life, I’m nothing more than an anchor. You’re getting what you’ve always wanted. I’m your past.”

  “You’re not my past, you’re right in front of me.”

  “You’re a SEAL now. It’s what you wanted. I’m letting you go so you can be happy.” Her voice trembled on the last word.

  “Cut the shit, Alia. I am happy. Being your friend makes me happy.”

  “I thought so. But I know better now.” She started to shut her Bible, but the yellow caught his eye.

  “That’s the sunflower. Why were you looking at it? I mean something to you? Don’t I? If I do, why are you throwing me away?”

  “I’m not Hunter,” she wailed softly. “I’m saving you. You have to go now.”

  “Not until you make me understand.”

  She gave the harshest laugh he’d ever heard. It sounded like something
out of a horror movie.

  “You never want to understand this, Hunter. It’s too ugly. I’m too ugly. I’m a burden. Having me around will cause you to die.”

  “That’s bullshit. Where did you hear that bullshit? Are those bitches at school feeding you some kind of line again? What have they said?”

  She got up on her knees and hurled her Bible against the wall. He watched as the dried sunflower and his letter fluttered to the ground.

  “Get out! I want you gone. We’re done.”

  The light turned on, and it was Mrs. Novak. She saw him and screamed. He jumped out the window. That was the last time he saw Aliana Novak.

  He sent her letter after letter for six months. They all came back return to sender. Even he caught a clue after that long.

  ***

  “Lottie, what is this? I could barely zip up these jeans, and you know I would never wear a t-shirt like this. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking you needed to loosen up.”

  Hunter recognized the husky voice with the Czech accent. He turned the corner and came face-to-face with his past. She was scowling at a curvy Hispanic woman. Aliana’s hair was still incredibly long. He watched as she gathered it up and started to pile it on her head.

  “Look at her, she’s all bruised. I told you she needed your help. The poor baby,” his grandmother said in Spanish.

  The two women in the hospital room turned to stare at them.

  “Do you just collect hot men?” the cute woman asked as she turned to look at Aliana.

  Aliana was frozen, her hair falling from her hands, a golden mass shimmering all around her. He saw her mouth open and silently form his name. She took a stuttering step forward, her hand out, as tears welled in her beautiful blue eyes.

  He felt a wrenching in his soul, something shook loose, and he smiled as he moved toward her. But then she stepped backward and brought both her fists to her gut and pressed in like she was in pain. She shook her head at him, and he stopped.

  “Alia?”

  “No. Please, no.”

  He stopped.

  “Who is this?” Aliana’s friend asked gently. She could tell how upset Alia was.

  A toilet flushed, the door to the bathroom opened and out walked Mrs. Jankovic.

 

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