Shelter in the Tropics

by Cara Lockwood

  Tack stiffened a little, but then hugged her tighter. “I don’t care what he throws at me. I’ve told you all my secrets. And, besides, I talked to my friend at the consulate. He gave me some good advice. I think I’ll be able to persuade him.”

  “Don’t underestimate him.”

  “I won’t,” Tack promised. “Just as long as you don’t underestimate me.”

  Cate couldn’t help but love his confidence, the way he stared this massive problem in the face and didn’t back down.

  “I wish we were there already,” she said. “I don’t know how I can survive seven hours on this plane.”

  Tack gently ran a hand down her arm and squeezed.

  “By letting me distract you.” Suddenly, the gentle caress made all her worries fade. All she could think about at that moment was his touch, and the heat of his body next to her. God, the man was so broad, so solid. She did love the feel of him against her. She felt safe, if only for a few seconds. He came back for you. Hadn’t that been the litmus test? Wasn’t that what she was waiting for to prove his love? Yet insecurities rattled around in her chest, like loose change.

  “Why did you come back for me?” she murmured in his chest. She needed to hear it from him.

  “Because I love you,” he said softly. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

  The words seemed so bold. So sure. “But you thought I was a thief...worse...” He had been planning to deliver her straight into the arms of the man who’d hurt her and who would not rest until she was behind bars or dead.

  He pulled away then, fixing her with his dark gaze filled with regret. “I am so sorry for that. I was wrong. I was so very wrong about you.” He tucked his finger beneath her chin and raised her face. “I’m sorry for hurting you. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”

  His dark eyes pleaded with her.

  “I want to give you that chance. I do.” Her whole body screamed for her to do just that. It would be the easiest thing in the world to kiss him right now, to believe everything he’d just said, and to start over with him. She wanted to believe that after so much had happened in her life that this could really, truly be love. Real love. But she thought about Rick once more, and how sure she’d been of him at the start, about how he’d changed so radically after she’d moved in.

  Then, the realization that she still had doubts about Tack, even after he’d come to save her, made her worry that she might never heal. Maybe, she realized, the worst and most lasting wound was being unable to trust in love.

  “But I’m not sure, Tack. I just...” So much was happening all at once. Her boy was missing, she’d spent the night in jail, her ex was still out there, angry and probably hell-bent on revenge. She had nothing left to give at this moment, and her head was a swirl of emotions. She couldn’t think straight. Plus, the exhaustion of the last forty-eight hours weighed on her suddenly. Cate barely slept the night before, and she realized she’d been mostly running on adrenaline for the last two days. She felt shaky and exhausted.

  Tack pulled her back to his chest and hugged her tightly. “I’m on your timeline,” he told her. “I’m a patient man.”

  “I’m going to test that patience,” she said, smiling into his chest. It rumbled with laughter. She snuggled into him, though, too tired to do much else.

  “You already are,” he murmured softly and kissed the top of her head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CATE FELL ASLEEP against Tack, her body worn out from the mind-boggling events of the last few days. She woke as the plane touched down, jerking awake only to realize that she was still safely encased in Tack’s arms on the couch in the private plane.

  She felt warm and safe, until she remembered where she was and why. Rick found her, and probably right at this moment had her boy, and there was a chance that she might never see Avery again. She loved that Tack wanted to fight for her, for them, but she also knew the reality of going up against a titan like Rick Allen. She knew what the man was capable of, and Tack didn’t. She’d meant it when she said that Rick played dirty, that he would find secrets or make them up. He didn’t care which.

  “Did I sleep that whole time?” Cate asked, yawning as she untangled herself from Tack’s embrace and sat up.

  “Soundly. You even snored.”

  “I did?” Cate felt her face grow pink. “I snore?”

  “Like a congested grizzly bear,” Tack said, and leaned over and kissed her on the nose. “It’s adorable.”

  “Doesn’t sound adorable.” She blinked and rubbed her eyes as she watched Tack lean back and raise the window shade near the couch. Sunlight streamed in, and she could see the airport whiz by as the plane slowed on the runway. “I can’t believe I slept the whole flight away.”

  “I can. You were exhausted. I’m glad you got some rest.” Tack dipped down and kissed her lightly. Cate returned the kiss before it even occurred to her that she probably had a horrendous case of morning breath. Tack didn’t seem to mind, however, as he smiled at her, which made her stomach feel warm and a little gooey. He draped his arm across her shoulders and she leaned into him once more, loving how she fit perfectly in the crook of his arm.

  “What do we do now?” she asked as the plane taxied to the private hangar.

  “First, you let me go talk to your ex.”

  Cate felt her stomach tighten with worry. “What if he doesn’t want to talk?”

  “Then he’ll be the one doing the listening.” Tack’s jaw flexed, and she saw the determination in his face. She hoped he knew what he was doing, and she sent up a silent prayer that Rick wouldn’t hurt him.

  “Be careful, Tack. Rick Allen is dangerous.”

  He hugged her tightly. “I’m always careful. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “And you can’t go see him in that...” She nodded toward the Aruba Police shirt he wore.

  “I’ll ask the captain if he has a shirt I can borrow,” Tack said. “In the meantime, just relax. We’ll be okay.”

  Cate hoped he was right. But she decided she’d check with Mark. Maybe he’d have some ideas on how to deal with Rick.

  * * *

  AFTER BREEZING THROUGH customs thanks to the IDs John Benoit provided, Tack and Cate rode in a taxi down Lakeshore Drive, past the sailboats bobbing in Lake Michigan. The massive lake looked almost like the Caribbean, except it was a deep blue, not blue-green, and the bare trees lining the highway reminded Tack that it wasn’t the balmy eighty degrees of most days on St. Anthony’s Island. The chilly February air whistled into the cab through the partially open back window. He glanced at Cate, who was hugging her arms, and he reached over and rolled the window up. Then he shrugged out of his borrowed button-down plaid shirt, offering it to her for warmth. Beneath, he wore a simple white undershirt. She took it and sent him a grateful smile, which lit him up from inside, made him feel even more protective of her. He just wanted her comfortable and safe, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she was.

  “I’m not used to seasons anymore,” Cate said. “Just summer.”

  She pulled on his shirt, the sleeves hanging impossibly long past her fingers. She looked like a child wearing her father’s shirt. It made her look even more adorable, and Tack’s heart sped up a little. He didn’t want to lose her. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen. Her phone dinged and she pulled it out, frowning as she read a new message.

  “Who’s texting you?” Tack asked, glancing at her phone face.

  “Mark,” she said. “I asked him about legal stuff. He’s a retired lawyer, and he has friends who do family law. I just want to cover my bases.”

  “I also know a lawyer,” Tack said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. “You know, one way or anothe
r, this will be okay.”

  Cate studied her phone, scrolling through the long message. “I hope so.”

  Soon enough, they pulled into the massive hospital complex in downtown, where some of the finest surgeons in the country practiced, a beacon of cutting edge research and new techniques, and Rick Allen’s last resort. Tack had discovered the man had flown all over the world looking for treatments or a different diagnosis for his failing lungs. Switzerland, the Netherlands, Japan. None of them had cures for him, and so he came back home, to Chicago, where he’d found one last team of surgeons willing to try to revive his body. Tack knew the prognosis was bad. He’d heard it from Allen himself, months ago.

  Cate grasped his hand and squeezed. “You’re sure this is the only way?” She glanced at him, worry pinching her features. All he wanted to do was make those worry lines go away. To see her smile again.

  “I am going to go talk to him. You don’t have to even see him. I don’t want to put you through that.” Cate’s shoulders relaxed a little, and Tack felt a small bit of relief. “You don’t ever have to see him again, if I can help it.”

  Cate slipped her hands around his waist and squeezed. “Thank you,” she murmured against his chest, and he could feel the sincerity of her gratitude.

  “I will take care of him.”

  “But what about Adeeb?”

  Tack frowned as the cab pulled up in the circular drive, where visitors wandered into the hospital through oversize automatic glass doors. “I want you to wait for me. Can you do that? You can even wait here, in the cab.”

  “No,” Cate said. “I’ll wait inside.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. Once more, Tack admired her bravery. He paid the cabbie and took her by the hand. Together, they walked into the hospital and took the elevator up to ICU.

  A small, furnished waiting room sat near a nurses’ station. The windows would have overlooked the lake, but most of them were covered in blinds, half closed.

  “You can wait here,” Tack suggested, nodding toward the empty seats. Cate squeezed his arm.

  She nodded, a little bit in a daze, as she sank onto a cushioned love seat.

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  “Yes. Just... I miss Avery. I hope this works.”

  “It will,” Tack said with more confidence than he felt.

  Tack already knew Allen was in room 1209. He pulled Cate into his arms and hugged her tightly. Then he laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

  “Good luck,” she whispered.

  He knew he was going to need it.

  What was he going to do to get a man like Rick Allen to see reason?

  The hallway was mostly empty, except for a nurse filling out paperwork at the main desk. She didn’t look up as he glided past, straight to 1209.

  Inside, Cate’s ex-husband lay still on the hospital bed, dozens of wires and tubes running from his arms to the adjacent monitors. They quietly beeped around him as colored numbers denoting blood pressure and heart rate continued to change. The once-powerful man looked pale and shrunken. Anyone could see the man was not long for this world.

  He also realized that as frail as the man was, he still shouldn’t count him out. Cate had said he was dangerous, and Tack needed to keep on his toes. Never underestimate your enemy.

  Allen cracked one eye open, his breathing labored, and the oxygen tube in his nose not doing much. “You failed,” he said. “If you’re looking for your visa, you can keep on looking. Derek brought my boy back. And I had to pay extra to make sure they put that no good woman away. It wasn’t cheap to make sure she rots there.”

  Tack felt anger prick his skin, and he clenched one fist. He’d let his temper get the best of him before with Derek. That got him court-martialed. This time, he had to keep a level head. For Cate. For Avery. For Adeeb.

  “I found her,” Tack said calmly, realizing that one of his advantages was that Allen had no idea Cate was free. He could use that. “You owe me.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.” Allen took a shaky breath. His body looked so frail, his useless legs stretched out before him, even smaller than Tack remembered. What muscles the man used to have in his shoulders and arms had now also atrophied, and he looked immeasurably older and frailer. Still, a fire burned in his eyes. The man wouldn’t let go of revenge, even now, on his deathbed. “You were too busy looking at my wife’s ass to do your job. I heard Derek’s report. He’d been watching you two.”

  “Ex-wife. And besides, I was just doing what I could to get close to her,” Tack lied. “Give me the visa you promised. Derek would never have found her on his own. You and I both know that.”

  “Maybe.” Allen struggled and then clicked the button next to him, and more painkillers dripped into his IV. Tack hoped he could use that to his advantage. “But I think you planned to betray me.”

  “I had them both on the boat. I was going to deliver.” The lies came out easily. “You have the boy at your house right as we speak, don’t you?”

  “No.” Allen wheezed. “But I give you credit for trying to find out. I know you’ve fallen for Cate. You’re working for her now. You can’t fool me.”

  Tack realized it was no use in pretending, and besides, he wanted to tell the man exactly what he thought of him. “You’re right. I love her. I plan to marry her.”

  Allen let out a hoarse laugh. “I don’t want her anymore. You’re welcome to her. And, just so you know, I’ve instructed my attorneys to draw up papers to declare her an unfit mother, so no matter what happens to me, she’ll never see Avery again.”

  “You won’t get away with that.” Tack felt his blood pressure rise. “I’m here to talk about how you’re going to make sure that she sees her boy. How you’re going to apologize to her for everything you’ve done, and how you’re going to make sure there’s a fair custody hearing.”

  Allen laughed, but dry coughs cut off his bitter mirth as he struggled to get his breathing under control. “You don’t have anything I want, therefore, you can’t negotiate with me. I’m going to tell you how this is going to go. I’m going to file charges against Cate for parenting kidnapping, and then I’m going to make sure the judge knows just how unstable she is, how she is delusional and how she’s been seeing a therapist for years for her disorders.”

  Tack felt off balance as he let Allen’s words sink in. Cate hadn’t said anything about a therapist. And she wasn’t crazy, so that meant... “Cate never saw a therapist. She doesn’t have any issues.”

  Allen smirked. “I’ve paid a therapist, so she’s seen one.”

  “You’re going to bribe a therapist to give a false testimony in a custody hearing.” Tack shook his head. “Just like you paid the local police to look the other way when you beat your wife.”

  Allen closed his eyes, and for a minute Tack thought the man might drift off.

  “I didn’t have to pay them,” Allen murmured, the extra painkillers beginning to take effect.

  “No? Is that what you call the extra campaign contributions to the mayor and the local alderman? Then, low and behold, everyone gets a little boost to their pension plans.” Tack had done his research. Now that he’d known where to look, the money trail seemed obvious. Not that he could prove it in court, but still.

  Allen chuckled. “It’s not a bribe if it’s part of our political process. Money talks. I just happen to have a lot of money.” He laughed a little, sounding almost drunk on morphine.

  “That you used to make sure nobody believed Cate. What about the scar on her chin? How are you going to explain that? That makes for some powerful proof that you laid your hands on her.”

  “That would’ve never have happened if she’d stayed where she belonged.” Allen clicked the main medication one more time.

  Tack would’ve felt sorry for the shriveled shell of a m
an before him if he weren’t still trying so hard to hurt the woman Tack loved.

  “You’re dying. This is your last shot to make amends, and instead, you want to hurt the mother of your child.”

  “She hurt me first,” the man said simply, his voice growing weaker as the meds took effect. Now he had trouble keeping his eyes open.

  Tack took a seat near his bedside.

  “You’re not going to hurt Cate anymore. Do you understand me?”

  Allen gave a low chuckle. “What are you going to do? Threaten to kill me? I’m already dying. You can’t do anything more to me than that.

  “And, just so you know, she doesn’t get a dime of my money. I divorced her. I wrote her out of the will. My will gives it all to charity. I’ll go down in history as the world’s biggest benefactor. With some set aside for Avery, of course.”

  “Which we both know is a lie.” Cate stood in the door, still wearing Tack’s plaid shirt, with the sleeves pushed up.

  “Cate...” Tack cried, surprised.

  She glanced at him, but then turned her attention back to her ex-husband.

  “You...” Allen growled, his heart rate increasing on the monitors before them. “What are you doing here?”

  Cate smirked and shook her head slowly. She walked right up to his IV, which was plugged into the morphine machine, and she unplugged it with one sharp jerk, cutting him off from all painkillers. Then she unplugged the nurse’s call button, too. Now he was cut off from help.

  “I’m here to get my son. You’re going to sit there, and you’re going to listen to me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CATE HAD THOUGHT seeing Rick again would be the worst moment of her life, but right then, she felt more empowered than she’d felt in years. Rick wasn’t the strong, overbearing man she remembered—he was weak, a shell of his former self, hardly someone she could imagine being scared of.