Trevor knocks softly. “Dani? Are you all right?”
I scrub harder. “Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I’m not okay. Not by a long shot. But I can’t tell him that. I have to keep it together.
When I open the door, he’s sitting on the air mattress, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. His boots sit unlaced, ready to go, and he’s put the pistol right next to the pillow.
My body aches, and I sink down next to him. “Are you all right?” I ask.
Trevor eases my running shoes off my feet. “I am now. Just wiped. But I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not for a minute.”
“You’re going to have to if you want to sleep.” I wriggle until I’m stretched out on my side, then wait for him to join me. “Unless you sleep with your eyes open. Which, if you do…tell me now so I can turn over, because that would scare the crap out of me.”
“I don’t.” Trevor skims his knuckles along my reddened cheek, and something inside me threatens to shatter into pieces. “I almost lost you,” he whispers. “I need to know what happened. Before I woke up.”
I don’t want to. I’m barely holding it together. But he’s so close, and the stress pushes me over the edge. Burying my face against his shirt, I breathe him in and find a hint of calm. Not enough to stop me from shaking, but enough for me to speak.
“I think I woke up when they came into the room. The door locks…they beep.” A shudder runs through me, and Trevor wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me almost on top of him. “They each grabbed an arm, and then I couldn’t breathe. Something…something was over my…” Not even Trevor’s scent can keep me grounded now, and my voice rises half an octave. “It hurt, and I took a breath before I could stop myself. But then I got so dizzy, and I knew I couldn’t inhale again or I’d…”
“You’re safe, Dani. Know that. You’re safe with me.”
I want to believe him. I need to believe him. But I can’t. Not anymore.
“I tried to fight,” I manage, “but they were too strong. And they had my arms.” Shaking my head makes the room spin for a second. “I said that already.”
“Stop.” He shifts so he can cup my cheek. “I don’t need to know the rest. I was wrong.”
“They…said…” I have to tell him. I wanted to back at the hotel, but I was too out of it. “I kicked one of them.” A hiccupping sob escapes, but I can’t cry. I don’t know how to let my tears fall. They just burn the corners of my eyes. Trevor brushes one of them away with his thumb, and I blow out an uneasy breath. “The bigger one told me to stop fighting. That no one was coming to save me.”
The noise that rumbles in Trevor’s throat is almost a growl. “I will always come for you, Dani. When we get back to the U.S., you’re staying with me for a couple of days, and we’re going to talk about all of this.” His lids droop, and his shoulders relax slightly. “Never letting you go again.”
I can see the fight he’s waging with his body to stay awake, to stay present. All for me. But exhaustion has me in its grip as well, and I rest my head on his chest so I can listen to his heartbeat. “You’re sure you can trust Leo?” I ask again as my eyes close and I snuggle closer.
“Yeah.” The single slurred word is enough for me, and I let myself drift in his arms, ready to get the hell out of Venezuela and land somewhere we can finally figure out what this is between us.
Chapter Fourteen
Trevor
Something tickles my cheek, and for a moment, I forget where I am. Until Dani moans in her sleep, and I’m instantly awake. We’re in Leo’s basement, the only lights coming from his laptop and a single bulb over the stairs.
Glancing at my phone, I relax. We still have an hour before we need to leave for Puerto Cabello, and I’ll spend every minute of that I can with her in my arms. Why didn’t I insist on sleeping with her earlier?
Because you were scared.
The inner voice that’s kept me alive through years of covert operations isn’t happy with me right now. Can’t say I blame it. If I hadn’t woken up in time, she would have disappeared into the bowels of The Crypt.
I want Luis Rojas out of there with everything I am. He’s the key to taking down the organization that put Gil on the path to destruction. The organization that forced me to finish the job. I rest my cheek against Dani’s forehead as memories threaten to drown me.
“The Loma Collectivo wants the resistance eliminated completely by the end of the year,” I say as Oliver sends a map of Caracas from his laptop onto the wall screen. “And they’re willing to kill anyone who stands in their way.”
The briefing room deep underground offers few distractions, and we’ve been going over and over the intel Austin and I gathered the last time we visited Venezuela’s capital city.
“You’re certain they have Pritchard?” Ollie asks.
I pull a thumb drive from my pocket and plug it into the laptop. “See for yourself.”
The video shows Austin tied to a chair, shirtless, blood dripping from dozens of cuts all over his torso. He’s blindfolded with duct tape over his mouth, and his chest stutters as he struggles to breathe.
As Ollie stares, gaze riveted to the screen, a dark-clad figure enters the frame. It takes the camera a moment to focus on Gil’s face, but when it does, he’s smiling. “You shouldn’t have sent him, Trevor. I know all of his secrets. I grew up knowing them. Just like yours. You can’t stop me. La justicia está de mi lado!”
A knife flashes for a split second before Gil stabs Austin in the thigh. He screams and thrashes weakly, but he’s lost too much blood, and Gil was always a master of inescapable knots.
“Pull all of your American agents out of Venezuela by the end of the week, or I’ll send Perfect Pritchard back to you in pieces.” Gil leans close to the camera to shut off the recording, and I see it. His eyes. He’s lost all hold on reality, and if I don’t get down there in the next twenty-four hours, Austin’s as good as dead.
“Trevor?” Dani’s soft voice brings me back to the present, and I open my eyes to find her staring up at me. “You were somewhere else. Where?””
“It’s nothing you want to hear about. Not right now.” I offer her a weak smile, then check my phone again. “We should get up. The faster we get to Puerto Cabello, the better. If I know Dax, he’ll have the plane there at least an hour early.”
“Who’s Dax? You mentioned him last night.”
“He runs Second Sight. Well, he and Ford are partners. But he’s the majority owner. Special Forces for years until…” I shake my head. Dax’s pain is his own. “He was injured—blinded—in the line of duty, but he’s one of the strongest, most capable men I know.”
Dani sits up and presses her palms to my chest. “When we get back to Boston, will I meet him?”
Her warmth seeps into me, and I realize what I’ve been fighting for more than ten years. I love this woman. I’ve always loved this woman. I want her to meet everyone at Second Sight. My family. I want to wake up with her every morning. Fall asleep with her every night. Hell, we’ve never even been on a date, but I still know there’s no one else for me and never will be.
“Yes. You’ll meet him.” I slide my hand up to cup the back of her neck and pull her close enough to touch my lips to hers. “You’ll meet everyone, Dani. And we’ll have time to talk. Really talk. About us.”
She nods and lets me help her to her feet. Ten minutes later, we’re back in the stolen pickup truck, on our way to safety.
The sun paints Puerto Caballo in warm colors as the truck sputters to a stop at the edge of the airfield. Dani fell asleep halfway through the drive, curled against me with my arm around her shoulders.
Now, I dip my head so my lips are close to her ear. “Dani? We’re here.” She startles awake, and her jacket falls away, revealing the deep, purple bruises on her upper arms. “Fuck, baby. Why didn’t you tell me these were so bad?” I take her hand, then trace the edges of one of the worst of the marks.
&nb
sp; “Because there’s nothing you can do about them,” she says. “I’m fine, Trevor.”
“You’re always fine.” I release her and hop out of the truck, rush over to the passenger side, and open the door. “Come on. We’re exposed out here, and I don’t like it.”
As soon as we’re on the plane—a private Cessna a good five levels above my pay grade—Dani turns in her seat. “What did you mean when you said I’m ‘always fine’?”
The question throws me off balance, and I strap in as the Cessna starts its taxi. The only crew member outside of the pilot and copilot is one attendant with a Beretta strapped to his hip.
“Mr. Moana?” the man says from the jump seat by the cockpit. “We’re executing a short field takeoff with a quick climb. There will be a fair bit of pressure. There’s gum in your seat pocket.”
He’s not kidding. Within two minutes, the pressure in my ears ratchets my headache up to eleven, and Dani leans forward, chewing her gum as quickly as she can and squeezing her eyes shut.
When my hand rests on her thigh, she relaxes slightly and links our fingers. “You’re not off the hook,” she manages as the plane continues to climb. Five minutes later, it levels off and we both relax, sinking into the plush leather seats.
The attendant brings us both bottles of water, sandwiches, and Cokes, then disappears into the tiny galley. Whoever he is, Dax trusts him—or paid him enough for his silence.
Dani pulls her tablet from her bag and sets it on the little table that extends from the wall. “Trevor? I’m still waiting for an answer.”
“Can we talk about this when we get to Boston?”
“Not this. No.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she sits back in her chair and waits for my answer.
I glance out the window at the clouds below. This is one of those moments where I could easily fuck everything up. But I’ll never lie to her. I can’t.
“In twenty years, Dani, I’ve seen you cry exactly once. Austin…he thinks he heard you one night, but he can’t even be sure—“
“He did. The night you stood me up.”
Why couldn’t I have kept my mouth shut? I rake my hands through my hair. What I wouldn’t give for a shower and a change of clothes. And to start this conversation over again. My frustration prickles along my spine.
“Two men tried to kidnap you last night, Dani. They were planning on torturing you to make Luis Rojas talk. And you’re sitting there like we’re on our way home from a beach vacation.”
“You need me to be okay, so I’m okay,” she replies. “Your job is to keep us alive. Mine is to not make that any harder than it already is.”
This is horseshit. I unbuckle my seatbelt and skirt the table between us. Before she realizes what I’m doing, I have her belt off and she’s in my arms.
“Trevor—“
“No.” I settle back into my seat with her held firmly in my lap. “We’re talking about this. Right now. We have another seven hours on this plane, and I won’t spend the entire time worried about you.”
“I told you, I’m—“
“Fine. I know. Except you’re not.” I run my thumb over one of her dark brows. “When you’re mad, there’s a tiny muscle right here that ticks.” Pressing my lips to the spot, I let my hand trail down to the side of her neck. “And this tendon, right here?” Another kiss, and I draw back to find heat and an emotion I can only describe as overwhelm churning in her eyes. “It tightens whenever you want to cry.”
She starts to argue, but I hold my finger to her lips. Her gaze threatens to stop me, but dammit, I want a future with this woman, and that means we both have to stop being afraid to let the other in.
“I get it, Dani. You’re one of the few people who understands how I used to let myself hope every time I moved to a new foster home. And how all that hope would vanish a month later when I’d be too much trouble or something would go wrong with the adoption paperwork or I’d do something stupid to get myself kicked. You go through that shit enough, you start hiding your feelings from everyone.”
That tendon starts to tense—just a bit—and there’s a shimmer to her eyes that wasn’t there when we sat down. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll never break your trust again.”
Gently, I slide my knuckle up and down the side of her neck, trying to massage away the tension and tell her that I see her. The real her.
“Let me in.”
“I don’t know how,” she whispers, and the dam that was so close to breaking repairs itself in a single heartbeat. “This is who I am, Trevor. I’m always okay. If you can’t accept that…”
The rumble in my chest sounds almost feral, and surprises me as much as it surprises her. Surging forward, I claim her lips, and the passion that meets my kiss makes my entire body ache with desire. “I’ll take you…” I say as I come up for air, “any way I can have you.”
Dani grinds her hips against me, and fuck, I wish these seats offered a little more privacy. Her hands move to the hem of my t-shirt, and a little bump of turbulence reminds me where we are.
“No.” I take her wrists and pin them behind her so she’s forced to look at me. “Not here. Not like this. The first time I get you naked, we’re going to be in my bed. Not at thirty-five thousand feet with an armed flight attendant ten feet away.”
“Who says we have to be naked?” Dani’s hooded gaze almost destroys my resolve, but I shake my head.
“I do. There’s no halfway with me, Dani. It’s all or nothing.”
With a huff, she relaxes, and I loosen my hold so she can go back to her seat, hating how much the absence of her warmth affects me. After she’s buckled back in, she meets my gaze. “I trust you with my life, Trevor. I hope you know that.”
“I do. But if this is going to work long term, you have to trust me with your heart too.”
Her lips purse, then curve into a frown, and as she pulls her tablet closer, she says quietly, “I know.”
Dani
Curling my legs up in the plush, leather seat, I read over the draft of my article. Trevor’s staring out the window, and has been since our little fight. Hell, I don’t even know if it was a fight. I want to go to him and apologize, except, I don’t know that I’m sorry. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had—not that I’ve had many—has ended things with me when I refused to “open up.”
But I don’t have anything to open up about. Nothing that anyone wants to hear, anyway. The dozen foster homes Gil and I rotated through until I was in the sixth grade? The last one where he got a beating for failing to turn his homework in on time? Or what about his death? How he chose his birth father—a man he’d never met who raped our mother—over me? Over everything?
Trevor knows all of that. Hell, he knows more about me than anyone—except maybe Austin.
I study his profile. After five days on the road, his thick stubble is now a full beard, and it makes him look older, more distinguished. His brown eyes have always carried a hint of sadness—or maybe resignation. Whatever the look, it comes from spending so long in the system. Despite his confidence, his skills, his quick mind, I don’t think he ever believes he’s good enough. We have that in common, at least.
Returning my focus to the tablet in front of me, I work a ball of thinking putty between my fingers. The pink sparkles catch the sunlight from time to time, and I go over everything my birth father said to me in the short time we had together.
“What did Luis mean when he said ‘I did not understand the repercussions of my actions. How much pain they would cause. Brother against brother, families torn apart in feelings. Those scars will never heal. For that, I am deeply sorry’?”
Trevor sits up a little straighter and rakes a hand through his hair. I wonder if he even knows how often he does that when he’s thinking. “Maybe nothing. It sounds like he was saying what he thought he needed to in order to avoid a beating.”
“No, TJ. Listen. ‘Families torn apart in feelings.’ His English was so good. Doesn’t that seem like an odd mistake for
him to make?”
“Fuck me.” Trevor slams his hand down onto the arm of the chair. “Sensacíon.”
“Well, yes. That’s the Spanish word for feelings. How does that help explain anything?”
“When I rescued Austin…the night I…”
“The night you shot Gil. I don’t blame you. Pretty sure that’s number five. So only nine-hundred-ninety-five to go.” I’m so tired of him constantly apologizing for something that can’t be changed. Like he’s been sentenced to atone for his mistakes for the rest of his life. “Go on.”
Trevor’s staring into the clouds, lost in his memories, but his back is so stiff, he’s practically vibrating. “The abandoned office building where I found Austin? It was across the street from a half-finished construction project. The sign on the fence was broken, half of it missing, but the first half read ‘Sensacíon de.’ “
“Luis knew about…Austin? About Gil?” I press my hand to my heart. “And he was trying to give us something we could use to get him out of there.”
Nodding, Trevor leans forward, steepling his fingers. “Maybe. Dani, you can’t publish this story. Not yet.”
“Why not? My editor isn’t going to be happy with me if I can’t produce a story to back up the expense of sending me—us—to Venezuela. He’s not a patient man.”
His dark eyes hold mine. “Just give me a few days. Let me see if my CIA contacts see the same clues in Luis’s words as I do.”
“I can put an embargo on the story. Lincoln won’t be happy, but he’ll honor it. He has to.”
“Do it. Otherwise, I’m worried Farías will hide Luis Rojas so deep, no one will ever be able to find him.”
Disbelief mixes with gratitude and what I think is love as I realize what he’s saying. “You…you’re going to get him out.”
“Not me.” Trevor shakes his head, reaches across the table, and waits for me to put my hand in his. “I don’t ever want to set foot in Venezuela again.”
Call Sign: Redemption Page 11