Ripped Apart

by Miriam Minger

  “Jake!”

  She sat up clutching Tyler. Her eyes widened at a room awash in blood.

  Oh dear God. She stared in shock at Magdalena kneeling on the floor and weeping inconsolably as she cradled Maria’s limp body in her arms. Eduardo and his bodyguard lay dead where they had stood only a moment ago.

  One of Magdalena’s bodyguards had been shot, too, and sat slumped with his arms at his sides where he’d fallen, his brains blown out against a wall. Out of the corner of her eye, Father Gregorio helped an ashen-faced Father Ignacio to his feet while the physician and his two assistants dared to raise their heads to look around them.

  “Please…someone…” Clare’s voice had gone hoarse and she turned back to Jake, his gun still clutched in his hand although he wasn’t moving. “Jake?”

  Panic choked her. He was still breathing but the scarlet stain had grown wider. He’d bleed to death if she didn’t get him help.

  “Tyler, wait here for me.” She wished desperately there was some way to spare her sobbing son the carnage around them, but there was nothing to be done about it at that moment. She deposited him on the bed and freed the gun from Jake’s hand, then ran across the room to where the physician was hauling himself to his feet. “You’re a doctor, right?”

  He nodded, his face haggard, his eyes holding little expression. He looked shell-shocked by what had just happened, but that didn’t dissuade her from jabbing frantically at him with the gun and gesturing to Jake lying far too still on the bed.

  “Get over there and help him, damn you! He might be dying.”

  The physician stumbled over one of the dead bodyguard’s legs in his haste to oblige her, but Father Gregorio had already beaten the man to Jake’s side.

  Clare met the priest’s stricken eyes. She wanted to go to Jake, too, but the commotion in the room and Magdalena’s grief-stricken cries echoed around her as if in a large spinning chamber.

  A searing pain tore through her left leg and she looked down in surprise. Blood soaked her upper thigh. Father Gregorio rushed toward her as her knees gave out beneath her.

  “I-I think I’ve been shot.”

  * * *

  “That’s a girl. Open those beautiful eyes so I can see them.”

  Clare swallowed against the cottony sensation in her mouth and turned her head slowly to the side to look at Jake. “You’re all right?”

  “I’m sitting here holding your hand—and been wondering when you’d get around to waking up. Guess that makes me all right.”

  Clare couldn’t help smiling at the banter in his voice but he still looked too serious to be joking. He squeezed her fingers and she squeezed his back, but her smile faded. “I was so worried about you.”

  “A grazed shoulder, Clare. Enough to bleed a lot and make me pass out for a few minutes, but not enough to kill me. Now you, on the other hand…”

  He fell silent as Clare blinked against the blurriness clouding her eyes. She glanced around the sparsely furnished hospital room to get her bearings.

  Wait…a hospital room? Memory flooded back to Clare of Tyler left sobbing on the bed. Oh, no, where was her son?

  “Easy, sweetheart, Tyler’s fine. He’s charmed the staff on the Pediatric ward and someone even scrounged him up an English edition of Curious George.”

  “Really?” Her heart still racing, Clare felt relief flood through her as Jake nodded and pulled his chair up closer to the bed.

  “He’s eating and smiling. The doctors say he’s doing great considering what he’s been through. Asks about his mommy a lot, too, but you’ll see him soon enough now that I can tell him you’re awake.” Jake rubbed his thumb across the back of Clare’s hand. His voice grew quiet. “You had me worried there, Clare Carson. Didn’t enjoy it one bit.”

  Clare drew a shaky breath. The emotion in Jake’s eyes stunned her, their intense blue making her want to never look away.

  “It couldn’t have been that bad,” she said softly, only to watch his expression grow even more somber.

  “If a bullet barely missing a major artery isn’t classified as bad. Another quarter inch and they’d have lost you in the ER. I would have lost you.”

  He held her hand so tightly that he was nearly hurting her, but Clare didn’t speak. She couldn’t. He’d said volumes to her with those few simple words and she didn’t want the moment to end. She knew it had to end sooner than later, though. She had so many unanswered questions—

  “Mrs. Castillo has flown back to Monterrey.”

  Clare wasn’t surprised that Jake had read her mind. He’d done it so many times before.

  “Anybody else but her wouldn’t have gotten out of Los Cabos without at least an inquiry about what happened, but money talks loudly as always, especially Castillo money. It didn’t hurt having two Catholic priests as witnesses to self-defense, either—lucky for us.”

  “Father Gregorio’s still here?”

  “No. He and Father Ignacio left, too, along with those medical people who were virtually kept prisoner. He called me from the airport to fill me in on everything and to say goodbye. Guess he felt safe enough to return home—Mrs. Castillo assured him and the others that was the case. She had her daughter’s body transported onto the plane with them. The rest she left for the local morgue.“

  “Ruiz?”

  Jake nodded grimly. “The bastard shot his wife Maria through the heart. You should know, Clare…she died trying to protect Tyler. She threw herself against Ruiz just as he fired at us—”

  “Oh, God, no.” Clare closed her eyes and turned her head away, tears burning her eyelids. That terrible haunting shriek she’d heard…it must have been Maria.

  “I got him, but it wasn’t quick enough to save her.”

  Clare smudged at her eyes with the palm of her hand as she turned back to Jake. “You can’t blame yourself.“

  “No, just would have liked it to go differently. After Maria released Tyler, I heard her tell her mother that she’d threatened Ruiz into carrying out the abduction. She’d planned to tell her brother about Ruiz stealing from him unless he brought her son home to her. Maria was begging her mother’s forgiveness when Ruiz and his bodyguard showed up.” Jake brushed a wisp of hair from Clare’s temple. “Mrs. Castillo didn’t deserve losing her daughter like that—and you didn’t deserve nearly losing your life.”

  Silence fell between them again. Clare stared into Jake’s eyes as he stroked her cheek. She didn’t want to end this moment either, but she felt a surge of apprehension that she knew Jake could read on her face. “Do you think Ruiz being dead will stop him?”

  Jake’s hand stilled. Clare hadn’t needed to say the name Mike Reed for him to know exactly whom she’d meant.

  “Don’t know. The twenty million’s a wash—at least I think it would be. Who knows what the hell kind of arrangement they made with each other. If the two of them were smart enough—or crazy enough to take on Manuel Castillo—”

  “What are we going to do? If he dares to come near my son I swear I’ll—”

  “Odds are you won’t have to worry about it, okay? He’s probably disappeared with whatever money he’s stashed away and we’ll never see him again. I’ve told the police here what I know so they’re keeping an eye out for him and they’ve passed the word along to U.S. authorities. Meanwhile”—Jake tucked the blanket more snugly around Clare—”we’re heading to the airport now that you’re awake. Mrs. Castillo chartered a plane for us with a medical staff so we don’t need to stay here. She figured you’d want to get Tyler home to San Antonio as soon as possible. Sound good?”

  Clare nodded, overcome.

  Home. She and Tyler…and Jake. She reached up and gently touched the part of the thick bandage she could see sticking out from the collar of his light blue shirt. “What about you? You okay to travel?”

  “Been for a couple hours now, ever since they brought us here and wrapped up my shoulder good and tight. Got myself a new shirt and everything, courtesy of the hospital staff. Just
waiting on you, ma’am.”

  She liked the way Jake had said those last words.

  Waiting on you, ma’am.

  Clare smiled up at him. “Okay, let’s head to the airport.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  “A couple of last minute preparations and they’ll be ready to load you and Tyler onto the plane,” Jake whispered next to Clare’s ear. “Think you’ll be comfortable enough in here for a little while longer?”

  Clare smiled at him and nodded as he checked to see her wheelchair brake was secure. He’d positioned her closer to the gurney where Tyler slept so soundly, and now Jake tucked the blanket around her waist.

  They were trying to be quiet, but Tyler hadn’t stirred since the ambulance had left the hospital. Clare doubted they would wake him. His soft steady breathing was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

  “It’s good to see you happy.” Jake rose beside her to look at Tyler. “He’s a persuasive little guy, isn’t he? Didn’t take much to convince you to ride in here with him though the hospital had a separate ambulance for you——a hug, a smile. One ‘I love you, Mommy.’ Got you wrapped around his finger.”

  “Always has.”

  “Lucky bastard.”

  Clare’s jaw dropped in mock horror but Jake lifted her chin gently and bent down to kiss her. Not a long one, but just right. When he drew away, his eyes held the same seriousness as when she’d woken up earlier to find him sitting next to her bed and holding her hand.

  “Glad you’re feeling more like yourself, too, but you sit tight in that chair, no moving around. You’re stitched up good, but you don’t want to irritate the wound.”

  “Okay, doctor.”

  “I’m not kidding, Clare.”

  “I know. I’ll be good.”

  “Better. I’ll be back as soon as I see they’re ready for you.”

  Clare nodded. She hoped Jake might kiss her again when he stared at her for a moment, making her think there was something else he wanted to say. Instead, he squeezed her hand, hard, and then climbed out of the ambulance and shut the double doors.

  She missed him already. She would have felt a lot safer if he’d stayed with them until the plane was ready, the commotion outside echoing in the huge aircraft hanger.

  A police escort with lights flashing and sirens wailing had brought them to the airport, but she’d learned from her few days in Mexico that such protection couldn’t necessarily be trusted.

  Jake had told her that Mrs. Castillo had arranged everything for them so that gave her some comfort. Clare had decided to keep silent about the nagging concern she knew Jake shared, yet she wouldn’t relax until they were safely in the air and on the way home.

  Clare reached out to lightly stroke Tyler’s cheek. Three bright red balloons from the Pediatric staff were tied to the metal railing and hovered over Tyler’s pillow. They’d also sent him off with children’s books and cartoon DVDs to entertain him during the flight.

  She’d insisted to be taken to him not long after she woke up, accompanied by Jake, to find Tyler eating supper. The small weak voice she’d heard in the hotel penthouse had been gone altogether as he’d crowed happily about the cheese pizza and chocolate ice cream.

  Other than the regrettable things he’d seen, he appeared no worse for his abduction and the doctors had assured her all was well physically. Children were so miraculously resilient. As soon as they returned to San Antonio, she’d get him all the help he needed to heal from the emotional trauma of the past few days.

  Clare winced at the twinge of pain in her bandaged left thigh as she shifted in the wheelchair, but she was grateful for the soreness. It meant she was alive—with Tyler. She thought of Magdalena and how much she would have liked to thank her for helping to reunite her with her son, and sadness swept her.

  To be bearing home the body of her daughter. Clare could sense Magdalena’s grief as vividly even now as when she’d heard her agonized sobs that morning. She wished so desperately, too, that things might have gone differently for Maria’s sake.

  Yet if not for Maria throwing herself in front of Eduardo, that fatal bullet might have found another target—no, Clare didn’t want to think about it. It had all been so awful. She closed her eyes for a moment to try and forget the screaming and the blood.

  The hubbub continued outside. She heard vehicles coming and going. Jake had said the medical staff was taking extra care to have the necessary supplies on board in case of any emergency, but she hoped he’d return soon. She started to doze off when one of the doors swinging open made her start and open her eyes.

  “One sound from you and I’ll blow your kid’s brains out.”

  Clare froze, her heart slamming against her chest. She stared in mute horror as Mike Reed climbed inside the ambulance, dressed in a doctor’s white coat, a pistol with a long black barrel aimed at Tyler.

  A silencer. Clare started to rise but Mike turned the pistol on her.

  “Don’t move. Don’t scream. There’s no point—”

  “No, you can’t be wanting to do this. He’d dead—Eduardo is dead!” If Clare had thought her hoarse outcry would dissuade him, she realized with horrifying certainty that she was staring death in the face as Mike drew close and pointed the gun between her eyes.

  “Doesn’t matter—and not getting my money doesn’t matter, either. I can’t have you using what you’ve seen and heard against me. I’ve worked too long and too hard to wind up in some Federal prison or on death row. Time to tie up loose ends…and you’re one of them.”

  “Funny, I’ve been thinking the same thing about you, Reed.”

  Clare’s gaze flew to the door. Jake stood just outside the ambulance with his Glock trained upward on Mike, who’d swung around to face him.

  “Figured you’d be crazy enough to show up,” Jake continued with deadly calm. “Drop the gun—”

  “Fuck you.”

  Clare’s elation turned to cold terror when Mike shot out his arm to point the silencer at Tyler’s head.

  “Stand down, Wyatt, or I swear the kid dies.”

  Clare couldn’t breathe. For a terrifying moment the two men stared at each other, Jake’s weapon still focused on Mike—until Jake lowered his gun with a curse.

  Mike seized his chance and hauled Tyler from the bed, keeping the gun to his temple. Tyler’s wail at being awakened so violently stabbed Clare to the heart.

  “Get away from the door, Wyatt.”

  Jake could clearly do nothing but step backward as Mike moved toward the opening clutching Tyler, who started to scream.

  The knife in Clare’s heart plunged deeper. She lunged out of the wheelchair. “Not my son!” She threw herself bodily against Mike from behind and knocked him off balance, and he dropped Tyler.

  Clare screamed and dove for her son but Jake had caught him before Tyler hit the floor. He disappeared with Tyler around the side of the ambulance at the same moment Clare was yanked brutally to her feet.

  “Fucking bitch!”

  Mike’s silencer pressed against her temple, his arm around her neck choking her. Clare glanced from his livid face to Jake, who had returned to stand only feet away with his pistol aimed at Mike. To her unspeakable relief he had handed Tyler off to a nurse, the woman carrying her son away from the ambulance and to safety.

  “It’s okay, Jake, please just shoot him.” Clare’s distraught voice didn’t sound like her as she stared without blinking into Jake’s eyes. “Take care of my son—”

  “Shut up.” Mike ground the silencer into her temple and yanked her head back so cruelly she thought her neck would break. He propelled her toward the door. “Drop the gun to the ground, Wyatt, and back up until I tell you to stop or you’ll get to see her head explode. Damn you, do it!”

  Jake’s eyes never left Clare’s face as he did what Mike ordered him, Clare standing now at the edge of the vehicle. Mike’s brutal grip tightened and she sensed he intended to haul her with him out of the ambulance and toward the plane.

>   God help her, she couldn’t bear that he might escape and live to terrorize Jake and her son. She’d die first before they faced such a future. If there was any chance at all for Jake to retrieve his gun before he was too far away…

  Clare jabbed her elbow with all her strength into Mike’s abdomen at the same instant she doubled over to twist free of him.

  Gunfire exploded.

  Clare pitched forward out of the ambulance.

  She hit the cement floor on her side, the wind knocked out of her.

  Her ears rang from the blast and she looked up, dazed. Two legs dangled from the ambulance. Blood dripped from the bumper.

  Someone lifted her to her feet and she cried out Jake’s name, thinking he was helping her. Instead she came face-to-face with a man she’d never seen before, a handsome Latino who stared at her with grim sympathy as he used a crisp white handkerchief to wipe Mike Reed’s blood from her cheek.

  “Forgive Rico for firing at such close range, Miss Carson. You were in grave danger. There was no margin for error.”

  She nodded numbly at him, stunned that he knew her name. A slight, scar-faced man who stood nearby dipped his head to her and sheathed a large handgun in a holster inside his jacket.

  “This is a very sad day for my family, but my mother wished for me to ensure that you were safe.”

  Clare’s gaze flew back to the man standing next to her. “Your mother?”

  “Magdalena Salinas Castillo. I am Manuel.”

  Clare gaped at him but Jake was at her side before she could say another word. He pulled her into his arms as Manuel stepped back to give them room.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Jake demanded in a hoarse voice, holding her so tightly Clare could feel his heart pounding. “You could have been killed.”

  “I didn’t care. He had to be stopped.”

  “Dammit, woman, I care.” Jake didn’t release her but held her away from him so he could look in her eyes. “I figured Reed was in Los Cabos and would follow us here and try something. His car pulled in between me and the ambulance and I couldn’t get a clear shot before he climbed in.”