Ripped Apart

by Miriam Minger

  “Not a good sign.” Jake thumped a clenched fist against the window, the odds suddenly dropping for them. “Ruiz wouldn’t dare harm his wife and think he’d survive it.”

  “I’ll pray that’s the case, but who can be sure? If he’s already done something—”

  “Don’t say it, Father.” Jake watched as Clare rose from her seat, the jet having leveled off at its cruising altitude. “We won’t say it or think it. Clare’s come too damn far—” Jake fell silent and rose to move past Father Gregorio into the aisle to follow after Clare.

  She was probably headed to the restroom. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to her since they had gotten on the plane and now was as good a time as any.

  He slowed his pace, though, when one of the bodyguards rose from his seat as Jake drew closer to Magdalena’s row. She must have seen him coming down the aisle and motioned for the man to sit down. She smiled kindly at Jake, which only put him more on edge.

  Damn, this situation was too surreal. Manuel Castillo’s mother was smiling at him, helping them, and flying to Los Cabos with them to confront members of her own family. Surely she had a sense of what Jake’s job had been in Mexico from everything Father Ignacio had told her. The Castillo drug cartel, among others, had been and remained to this day a staunch enemy of U.S. interests. Now Jake was aboard a luxurious private jet that Manuel had probably paid for in cold cash from laundered drug money.

  Jake told himself fiercely that he didn’t want to think about that anymore, either, as he sank into a seat opposite the restroom to wait for Clare. Not if he didn’t want to drive himself crazy.

  He just wanted to see Clare and hear that she was all right. The restroom door clicked and he immediately rose to his feet, his deep-seated desire to look into her eyes and touch her again like a physical pain.

  He was hooked and he knew it, but what the hell.

  “Hey.”

  The soft timbre of her voice made him smile. “Hey.”

  She smiled at him, too, and gestured to the restroom door. “You waiting in line?”

  “Nope. Waiting for you.”

  “Oh.”

  Funny how his answer had surprised her, Jake thought, reaching out his hand to pull her over to him. Didn’t she have a sense of how intensely attracted he was to her? Damn, attracted wasn’t even the word. Try something he’d thought he would never consider again since losing Isabella.

  As they stood face-to-face, Clare glanced in the direction of where Magdalena was sitting and then met his eyes again. She blushed bright pink as she sank into the seat next to him.

  “Everything going okay with you and Mrs. Castillo?”

  She nodded, returning the squeeze he gave her hand. “She’s been so kind. I can’t believe it–”

  “I’ll believe it when we’re in Cabo San Lucas and you’ve got Tyler.”

  Jake regretted his words the moment he’d said them. Clare’s smile faded as if a dark cloud had passed over her face.

  “What’s wrong? Has Father Gregorio told you something I should know?”

  “Nothing, Clare. Everything’s fine.” He touched her cheek, his finger tracing gently upward to her temple. “You know, I liked your blond hair better. Sorry about the dye job.”

  She didn’t answer but simply stared at him, searching his eyes. She knew he wasn’t being straight with her, which made Jake sigh and squeeze her fingers again.

  “Okay, okay, he told me Mrs. Castillo is worried about her daughter.”

  “I know. She told me that, too. She fears Eduardo might harm Maria, which means he’d harm—” Clare’s voice caught and she clutched Jake’s hand. “You said a leap of faith, right?”

  Hope burned in Clare’s eyes, so fragile yet so fierce. He swore to himself he wouldn’t say another word to make her doubt everything would turn out okay no matter he wasn’t convinced of it—not yet, anyway. “Yeah. Meant it, too.”

  “Good. Even if you don’t mean it for whatever reason, I need you to keep saying it, Jake. Promise?”

  She’d seen right through him but he nodded. “I promise.”

  * * *

  “Do you miss me, Eduardo?” Luisa whispered.

  Eduardo groaned into the phone. He rolled over onto his side to escape the sun streaming through a crack in the draperies covering the bedroom window, and hugged his pillow closer. “Of course I miss you, Luisa. What are you touching now? Your nipples?”

  “Yes, Eduardo, oh, yes, my nipples. I’m rubbing them hard for you and squeezing my breasts—ah, God, how they ache for you. I licked my finger and now my nipples are wet. Everything is wet for you. I wish you were here, my darling. Do you wish you were with me right now in my bed?”

  Fuck! What she insane? Eduardo groaned louder, his penis so painfully hard he thought he might explode.

  He glanced at the digital clock that read close to noon and wondered if Maria had received another dose of sedative yet. It had been so wonderfully peaceful while she’d been drugged into a stupor, but he didn’t want to end this call with Luisa just yet either.

  He loved to torture himself—to get really hard and then back off for a few minutes in a ritual of sexual agony that made his final climax all the more pleasurable. What the hell if Maria staggered out of bed and stumbled around for a while? He knew exactly where he’d find her, the American boy’s room, and thankfully both of their bedrooms were on the other side of the penthouse.

  He’d be spared the noise even if Maria began to wail and weep at the top of her lungs when the boy inevitably spurned her and began to cry.

  Eduardo felt himself growing soft just thinking about what he’d been suffering through no matter he probably wouldn’t hear it—and he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to have an orgasm so huge and intense that any thoughts of Maria and that kid were blown from his mind. He rubbed himself as he swore into the phone, his penis gone limp as a rag.

  “Eduardo, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Tell me what you’re touching.”

  “Ah, your favorite place, my darling. It misses you so much just as I miss you—”

  “Moan for me, then, bitch. Make it sound like you miss me—like I was screwing you right now.” Eduardo closed his eyes and pumped harder. His body began to respond as Luisa panted and sighed although he sensed it might take him longer now to get as rock hard as he’d been a few moments ago. So who cared? He wasn’t going anywhere. He had no immediate plans for the morning.

  Suddenly his arm holding the phone jerked, and one of his legs, too, a good sign that he was going to come. “Oh, yeah, that’s great, Luisa. Keep moaning…keep going…”

  * * *

  Clare gripped Jake’s hand tightly as they followed Magdalena and her two bodyguards across the hotel lobby toward the elevators while Father Gregorio and Father Ignacio brought up the rear. “I can’t believe they’re letting us go up there unannounced—”

  “Believe it,” Jake interrupted in a low aside. “We’d never have gotten past the front desk like she just did. Easy now, okay? So far so good.”

  Clare nodded, still amazed that all the Hotel del Sol staff had to hear was the name Castillo and that Magdalena wished her visit to her family to be a surprise, and they were tripping over themselves to accommodate her.

  The manager on duty, a short stout man with a thin moustache, rushed ahead of them to lead the way to the penthouse elevator. He pushed the red button with a flourish and then stood aside as the doors slid open. He offered a dignified bow to Magdalena.

  “If you need anything at all to make your stay more comfortable, Madam Castillo, please don’t hesitate to let us know. We’re so happy to see you again.”

  Clare stared in surprise as Magdalena stepped inside the elevator with her bodyguards and gestured for everyone else to join her. She had never said a word to Clare during the flight that she’d been to this particular hotel before or was familiar with it. She had simply stepped out of the black stretch airport limousine and walked into the luxurious lobby
like she owned it—

  Clare couldn’t voice the words as the reality of the Castillo family’s incredible wealth struck her like a blow to the gut.

  How could she have ever thought she could fight against such affluence and power to get Tyler back? If she’d believed it a miracle before that Magdalena had chosen to help her, now Clare was certain that she must be in the presence of an angel. The elevator doors closed and Magdalena turned to her and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

  “I will speak to my daughter first, Clare. She’s not been well.”

  “Of course, whatever you think best.” Magdalena’s still youthful-looking face appeared drawn and pale to Clare, her dark eyes haunted. Clare sensed the woman was thinking just as Clare was at that moment that they really didn’t know what they might find once they reached the penthouse.

  She imagined that Magdalena wished, too, she’d been able to reach her son for advice on how to proceed but so far Manuel Castillo had been impossible to reach.

  Magdalena had become irritated at her bodyguards at one point as if they could remedy the situation, and then said something under her breath about men’s foolishness when it came to mistresses and turning off their phones. She would do what she thought best, she’d announced to Clare. She planned to confront Eduardo and Maria at once and put an end to Clare’s horrific separation from her son.

  Clare prayed things would prove that easy. She was so close again to Tyler, so close. She tried to ignore a wave of fresh apprehension but it was no use. She turned instead to Jake. His tension was mounting from how tightly he held her hand as the elevator ascended.

  “Leap of faith?” she said quietly to him.

  He nodded but said nothing.

  She knew he probably held more faith in the freshly loaded handgun under his jacket than anything else at that moment. The elevator slowed and came to a gliding stop. Jake squeezed her hand fiercely one last time and then released her to pull out his weapon, the bodyguards following his lead.

  Clare didn’t breathe as the elevator doors slid open to reveal an opulent foyer with white marble walls and floor and a massive crystal chandelier.

  For an instant no one moved, until an unmistakable sound drifted to them from somewhere in the penthouse.

  A woman was weeping.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Quickly, it’s my daughter!” Magdalena cried.

  Clare was shoved out into the foyer as the two bodyguards lunged from the elevator but Jake caught her by the elbow before she slipped and fell. Clare was certain her pounding heart might burst from her chest. She’d never known such terror—not for herself but Tyler.

  The bodyguards disappeared down a hall to the right and Clare and Jake ducked around a corner and sprinted after them, followed by Magdalena and the two priests. The first bodyguard didn’t waste any time but kicked open a door at the end of the hall. The weeping became a terrified scream.

  “Dear God, Maria.”

  Magdalena’s agonized voice echoed down the hallway. Clare knew the older woman was behind her but she didn’t stop until she and Jake had lunged inside the room. They nearly crashed headlong into the bodyguards who stood with their pistols aimed at what appeared to be a physician from his white coat. Two nursing attendants cowered against a wall.

  Clare barely saw them. Her breath jammed in her throat, she stared at a distraught-looking woman with tangled black hair and wearing a rumpled white nightgown who stood unsteadily in front of a king-size bed.

  “Maria!”

  Magdalena’s outcry shattered the charged stillness but it was another voice, small and so weak, that made time and space around Clare stop.

  “Mommy…”

  “Daniel!” Maria cried out.

  Clare couldn’t believe it as the woman spun around and fell to her knees near the head of the huge bed. Her change in position revealed the slight shape of a boy lying on his back beneath the covers with his dark blond head propped on two pillows.

  A boy who stared at Clare with frightened, red-rimmed eyes that tore straight to her heart.

  Tyler.

  Tears blinded Clare. She took a step toward him only to have Jake catch her arm. “No, let go of me! My son—”

  “Magdalena asked to speak first to her daughter, remember?”

  Clare’s gaze flew back to where the nearly incoherent woman had draped herself over the edge of Tyler’s pillows. Magdalena rushed past Clare to approach the bed.

  “Maria, it’s me. Mama. There’s nothing to fear now, I’m here with you.”

  “What is she saying?” Panicking, Clare strained against Jake’s grip but he held her fast while Magdalena continued to speak softly to Maria in Spanish. “I don’t understand what she’s saying—”

  “Easy, Clare, Mrs. Castillo’s telling her daughter not to be afraid,” Jake explained as he pulled her closer to prevent her from struggling. “She’s telling her that you’re the boy’s rightful mother and that Maria must give Tyler back to you.“

  “No, no, Daniel is my son!”

  Maria’s heartrending words in perfect English echoed around the room. She rose from her knees to climb onto the bed next to Tyler and pull him into her arms.

  Clare had never known such agony as her son burst into tears. Before she realized she had moved, she twisted free of Jake’s grasp and ran toward the bed.

  “Clare, you must let me speak to her,” Magdalena cried out, but her plea fell on deaf ears as Clare rushed past her. She fell to her knees at the same spot where Maria had been kneeling only a moment before.

  She ached so desperately to reach out and touch Tyler to soothe his terrified sobs but she held back. Her throat was so constricted with emotion she wondered if she’d be able to speak at all. Another glance at Tyler and somehow she made the words come as she stared into Maria’s desperate eyes.

  “I know what happened to your son Daniel. I can’t begin to imagine your grief…I’m so sorry. I wish it could be different…I wish everything could be different but this boy is my only child, Maria. I’ve suffered too, since he was taken from me. All I want to do is touch him. Please let me touch him, Maria. Please…”

  Clare’s voice broke as Maria shook her head vehemently in spite of Tyler struggling against the woman’s embrace to reach out to Clare.

  “Mommy!”

  His cry echoed around the room but it was Maria’s piteous moan that nearly broke Clare’s heart.

  She’d never heard such a terrible keening sound as if the realization finally struck Maria that her son was truly dead and lost to her forever. She released Tyler and slumped against the pillows, and Magdalena rushed to her daughter’s side. Clare scrambled to her feet to gather Tyler into her arms.

  “Mommy’s here, Tyler. Mommy’s here.” Clare held onto her son and stroked his hair, his arms wound tightly around her neck as if he’d never let her go. She looked for Jake but she didn’t readily see him until she realized with a start he was standing behind her, his pistol aimed at the door.

  “We’ve got company, Clare.”

  His grim voice sent chills plummeting to the pit of her stomach. Two men had silently entered the room while everyone had been distracted, their weapons pointed at her and Jake…and Tyler.

  “Eduardo, you’ve gone too far,” shouted Magdalena, who tried to lift Maria bodily from the bed while Clare edged closer to Jake. “These people are under my personal protection. You and Carlos lower your guns—”

  “Give the boy back to his mother. Now.”

  Cold terror flooded Clare as she stared into Eduardo Ruiz’s unflinching black eyes.

  He wore a white bathrobe tied at the waist and appeared as if he’d just climbed out of bed, but he still looked as menacing as the last time she’d seen him. She recognized the strapping Latino who flanked him as the man who had carried Tyler from the ER in Monterrey. To her mounting horror, both men kept their guns trained upon her and Jake though Magdalena’s bodyguards had lowered their weapons as if uncertain what to do.
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  “Did you hear me, bitch? Give the boy back to my wife—”

  “Eduardo, no!”

  Maria’s agonized cry caused Tyler to wind his arms around Clare even tighter. Maria stood shakily by the bed supported by her mother, her red swollen eyes fixed upon Tyler.

  For a terrible instant Clare feared she might be thinking to take her son away from her as Maria reached out her hand toward the crown of Tyler’s head…but she never touched him. Her hand stopped a few inches from him and hovered there, her fingers trembling. A heartbroken sob tore from her throat and she nodded at her mother. The two women moved together away from the bed.

  “What? After all the shit you’ve put me through, you don’t want the boy anymore?”

  Jake translated Eduardo’s outburst for Clare as Maria shook her head no, her voice nearly a whisper.

  “I want to go home, Eduardo. Please take me home. Leave the boy to his mother.”

  “You stupid bitch! Let them walk away from here to be witnesses against us? If you don’t want the boy, he dies with the other two.”

  Clare got no translation from Jake, only the stark look on his face as he shoved her with Tyler onto the bed and dove on top of them as gunfire splintered the headboard. She couldn’t see a thing facedown on the covers but she heard screams and the crash of furniture as people scrambled for cover.

  One horrible shriek above all the rest made Clare’s blood run cold. More gunfire erupted, Jake’s handgun firing in explosive quick succession.

  His body jerked on top of her and he took a wheezing breath as Tyler wailed in terror. Clare was certain that a few seconds longer with her nose and mouth pressed into the bed and she would smother to death.

  “It’s okay, Clare. It’s okay…”

  She gasped for air, grateful to be able to breathe and see again as Jake rolled off her to one side. He tried to sit up next to her while she hugged Tyler fiercely to console him—except Jake couldn’t get up.

  He collapsed and went still and silent beside her, his face chalk white. Bright red blood began to seep through the right shoulder of his jacket.