Mikey’s eyes would drift closed and then pop open if Miguel stopped reading.
“He doesn’t want the story to end.” Jennifer pulled up Mikey’s covers and blinked. “I’ve never been away from him for more than a few days.”
Miguel closed the book and whispered, “I don’t want it to end either.”
Jen grabbed his arm. “Mikey will be safe here, won’t he?”
“You’ve seen the house and grounds. I can’t think of any place he’d be safer. The woman coming tonight is also going to create some fake documents for Mikey, just in case.”
“In case of what?” Her grip on his arm tightened.
“In case they have to make a quick getaway with him. Roberto also has a helicopter and a private jet at his disposal.” Miguel smoothed his thumb down Mikey’s cheek. “In the unlikely event something happens here, Roberto can get away—out of the country, if necessary.”
“I’m praying that’s not going to be necessary.” Jennifer pushed up from the bed and stood next to the window.
“I’m praying for a lot of things right now, Jen.” Miguel came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
She leaned against him. They kissed. They touched. He was afraid to do more.
Jennifer shivered and Miguel tightened his hold. “Are you actually cold in Palm Springs?”
“It’s the AC.” She hunched her shoulders. “It’s blasting.”
A light tap at the bedroom door saved him. He crossed the room and widened the door for Vin. “Yeah?”
“Lena’s here. They’re in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Vin. We’ll be right down.”
When the head security man left on silent feet, Miguel joined her at the window again. “Are you ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
He took her hands. “You don’t have to come with me, Jen. I can handle myself.”
“But if you leave me again, I won’t be able to handle myself.”
Downstairs at the butcher-block table, Lena unfolded her long, lanky body as she rose to shake their hands. “I know this is a special assignment for Rob, and I’m gonna do my best—untraceable ID’s and cards. The credit cards can’t even be tracked after you use them.”
“I’m going to load up Miguel with enough cash so he doesn’t have to use the cards, Lena.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You always have to use cards, Rob, and if he makes any airline reservations and pays cash, that’s gonna raise a red flag.”
Roberto spread his hands and shrugged. “I’ll leave it to the expert.”
“Is this your look?” Lena wiggled her long fingers in Miguel’s face.
Miguel tugged at his beard. “I’ve been trying to grow out my beard, and my hair hasn’t been this long since high school.”
“And what about you, blondie?”
Jennifer raised her eyebrows. “Are you suggesting I change my appearance?”
“Damn right, I am.” Lena pointed to a black suitcase parked in the corner. “I have supplies—maybe some brown hair, shorter. You can either cut and dye it, or find a wig.”
“What do you suggest?”
“If this were just for one event, I’d go with a wig. But if you’re on the run for more than a few days, in and out of hotels, I’d go with the dye job.”
Miguel reached over and combed his fingers through the strands of her hair. “As long as you put it back to its natural shade when this is all over.”
“When this is all over, I’ll shave my head if you like.”
Lena put her hands on her hips and faced Roberto. “Rob, I know you don’t like involving Gabby, but damn that woman has a way with hair and makeup.”
“She’d be happy to do it.” Roberto dragged his phone across the table with one finger and typed in a text.
Lena drove a knuckle into Miguel’s chest. “It’s best that your hair stays dark because of your coloring, but your hair is more brown than black, so we can take that darker.”
“You want me to dye my hair and beard?”
“You wanna fly under the radar as much as you can?”
“Yeah.”
“Dye job for you, too.” Lena pulled some papers from a briefcase on the table. “While we’re getting your appearance sorted out, we can start working on some of these forms.”
Gabby bustled into the kitchen on a wave of perfume and a clap of her hands. “Hello, Lena. Where’s your stuff?”
“My suitcase is in the corner.” Lena flicked the ends of Jennifer’s hair. “Darker, shorter and more glam all around.”
“Glam?” Jennifer shot a look at Miguel, and he shrugged.
“I’m assuming the people after you know what you look like?” Without waiting for an answer, Lena snapped three times down the length of Jennifer’s body. “They know you as the wide-eyed, blue-eyed blonde with the girl-next-door vibe. That’s gotta change if you don’t want them picking you out in a crowd or spotting you on surveillance tape.”
Jennifer nodded as Gabby grabbed her arm.
“I know just what to do, Jen.”
About forty-five minutes later, after Miguel had signed some forms and gotten a new birth certificate and Social Security number, his fiancée returned to the kitchen a changed woman.
He tucked Jennifer’s chin-length brown hair behind one ear and gazed into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes, heavily made up to look even darker, bigger and more mysterious. “Whoa. You look totally different.”
Jennifer spun around. “I don’t know how I’m going to re-create this look on my own.”
“It’ll be easy, Jen.” Gabby tucked a makeup kit into Lena’s suitcase. “I cut your hair in a blunt cut so that it will practically style itself when you dry it. You already wear a little makeup. Just apply it heavier and use these colors instead of your neutrals.”
Lena shoved some papers toward Jennifer. “You can keep whatever makeup Gabby used from my stuff to get that effect. Nobody looking for Jennifer Lynch is going to notice a smoky woman of mystery.”
Jennifer batted her eyelashes at Miguel. “Did you hear that? I’m a smoky woman of mystery.”
“I only hope I can remember who you are.”
“Your turn, Miguel.” Gabby crooked her finger. “I have a black color all ready for you.”
After Gabby had turned his brown hair and beard black, they returned to the kitchen. Lena then took their pictures for their new identities and assured Roberto that she’d have everything delivered to the house tomorrow.
“This calls for a celebratory drink.” Roberto clapped his hands together and broke out the good tequila again, setting up several shot glasses on the table and filling each one to the top.
Miguel snagged a glass, clinked it with Lena’s and poured the smooth, pale gold liquid down his throat. “Thanks, Lena.”
“Your brother’s the boss.” Lena bit into lime and downed her own drink.
Roberto poured another round, and after Miguel disposed of that one, he tipped the bottle into his glass for a three-peat. He met Jennifer’s eyes across the table, no less stormy in brown than they had been in blue.
She hunched forward and whispered, “Are you still taking those painkillers?”
“Just one.” He held up an index finger, which wavered a bit but didn’t tremble, and threw back his third shot of tequila, looking forward to the fuzziness around his brain that had allowed him to sleep last night—sleep without waking up once.
Gabby gave Jennifer a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “I’ll leave you all to celebrate. I’m going up to bed.”
“Thanks for all your help, Gabby. We have another few days, so I’ll try to duplicate this look under your watchful eye.”
“You’ll do fine.” Gabby winked broadly. “Lucky Miguel—it’s like he
gets to sleep with a different woman without cheating on his woman.”
Everyone in the kitchen laughed and Miguel joined in, but Jennifer’s face sported two red spots on her cheeks.
She dropped her head, the new hair creating a dark curtain across her face, and reached for a shot glass brimming with tequila. She raised the glass. “Here’s to cheating on your woman with your...woman.”
Giggling, Gabby left the group with a wave of her hand.
Roberto poured another shot for Lena, but she pushed it away. “I have to get home to my girlfriend or she’ll think I’ve been cheating on her.”
Miguel took the drink meant for Lena and dumped it into his own glass. “Thanks again, Lena.”
“Good luck, you two. I’ll send all the documents over tomorrow.”
Vin appeared and helped Lena pack up her suitcase and equipment after she dropped a makeup bag on the table for Jennifer.
A sudden silence descended on the kitchen and as Miguel reached for the bottle, Roberto snatched it. “I know the doc realized you’d had a few last night when you took that painkiller, but let’s not overdo it. I’ve never seen you overdo it, Miguel.”
Miguel closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. “It’s the stress.”
“I understand, but I think you’ve had enough to take more than a few edges off.” He gave Miguel a one-armed hug. “We’ll talk tomorrow, bro.”
Roberto hugged Jennifer and whispered in her ear loud enough for Miguel to pick up, “Do you need help getting him upstairs? You can always use the elevator.”
“I can walk.” Miguel patted his new black beard.
Roberto chuckled. “Okay, okay. Good night.”
Good night? Damn right it would be a good night. Any night he could sleep all the way through, blissfully blacked out, was a good night.
Jennifer waited for him by the entrance to the hallway, and he wove toward the dark-haired beauty.
She took his arm. “Do you want to use the elevator?”
“Sure, let’s live it up.”
She rolled her eyes and guided him toward the elevator tucked next to the staircase. Like magic, it delivered them to the second floor.
Miguel stumbled into the bedroom and fell across the bed. Blackness edged around him, seeping into his mind, obliterating all other thoughts and memories—except one.
The memory of his bright, shiny girl had kept him alive, had allowed him to hang on to the edge of sanity when it had been slipping away from him.
That dream now stroked his chest and whispered in his ear. “Why, Miguel? Why won’t you make love to me?”
He groaned and shifted to his side, toward the soft voice that kept him afloat. “I want to, Jen. More than anything, I want to make you mine.”
“Then why don’t you? I’m right here.”
Soft lips caressed his, but the alcohol, the drugs, the pain, the rage prevented him from reacting with a physical response. Thank God.
He mumbled a response instead. “I can’t.”
“Why, Miguel? Why?”
“Because I’m afraid I’ll kill you.”
Chapter Twelve
After a restless night, Jennifer woke up with a start, her heart pounding in her chest.
Before she reached for him, Jennifer felt Miguel’s body heat signaling his presence beside her this morning. Once he’d uttered his shocking statement last night, he’d passed out, looking anything but dangerous.
She’d tried to stay awake all night, not because she feared he’d make good on his prophecy, but because she wasn’t about to let him escape this morning without an explanation.
Sound asleep, his black beard covering his lean jaw, his lids closed over his watchful eyes, Miguel almost looked like a stranger. She trailed her fingers down his arm and traced the outline of his hand splayed on his T-shirt, covering his stomach. She blinked back tears. This man would never be a stranger to her. He’d captured her heart the moment their eyes met down the length of that bar in San Diego, the bar she and her girlfriends had descended on with the express purpose of meeting some hot navy SEALs in training at Coronado.
Her plan had worked out perfectly, except Miguel hadn’t been interested in a quick hookup. He’d told her early and often he wanted forever—and he’d gotten it with her.
If he thought he was going to scare her off with his scars—physical or otherwise—he’d picked up the wrong woman in that bar.
He huffed out a breath and rolled to his side, away from her.
She crowded his back, draping an arm around his waist and flattening her hand against his belly.
“Jennifer?” He mumbled her name into the pillow.
Resting her chin on his shoulder, she flicked her tongue at his earlobe. “Have you forgotten already? Do you think you’re in bed with some strange brunette?”
He grunted and shifted onto his back again, dragging one hand over his eyes. “I feel groggy.”
“That’s what happens when you mix booze and pills.”
“Ugh.” He ran his tongue along his teeth. “I need to brush my teeth.”
He made a move, and she grabbed his biceps. “You’re not going anywhere, Miguel, until you tell me what you meant last night and why you have to get blotto before you can get to sleep.”
“Did I say something stupid last night?” He slid up to a sitting position and bunched up the pillow behind him.
“Don’t try that with me.” She poked him in the chest. “You know what you said, and I’m sure you meant it. Now I want an explanation—for everything. I-if you can’t have sex because you’re not physically capable, you can tell me that. I’m not going anywhere, ever.”
His eyebrows jumped to the hair tousled over his forehead. “Is that what you think?”
“It crossed my mind. Why wouldn’t it? You endured months of torture.”
“I still have all of my equipment and it’s in working order—as far as I know.” He reached for the waistband of his jeans, which he’d never removed the night before. “Do you want to check?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind, since I haven’t seen your...equipment since you came back from the dead, but you’re not going to distract me from my mission here.” She punched her own pillow. “If you’re physically able to make love to me, why won’t you?”
Miguel sucked in his bottom lip and stared at a point off in space. Then he tapped his head. “I can’t do it mentally, Jen. I’m afraid of losing control. I’m afraid of what I might do to you.”
“That’s ridiculous. Even if you’re not as psychologically...sound as you were before your captivity, there’s no reason to believe losing control, as you put it, is going to result in some violent reaction from you during sex.”
Pressing his palms on either side of his head, he squeezed his eyes closed. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I don’t get it, so why don’t you start explaining it to me.”
His eyelids flew open and he pinned her with his dark, intense gaze. “My captors brainwashed me. They elicited violent behavior from me with certain triggers.”
His words hollowed out a pit in her stomach, but beneath his probing gaze she kept her face a mask of concern and sympathy. “That’s barbaric.”
“That’s one word for it.”
She swallowed her fear. “What about the doctors in Germany or Maryland? Surely, you didn’t see just medical doctors. You must’ve received some psychiatric treatment, too.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. “These are the same people who implanted a GPS under my skin. Do you think they were concerned about my mental health? In fact...”
“In fact what?” She held her breath, all of a sudden wanting to chicken out from the truth she’d probed out of him.
“I think the people at the debriefing center continued the brainwashing. My violent dreams and imaginings didn’t stop when I was there. They may have even intensified.”
“Is that why you don’t try to go to sleep without passing out first? The dreams?” She tried to take his hand, but he wouldn’t uncurl his fist clenched beneath his arm.
“It’s not just dreams. It’s actions while I’m asleep, sleepwalking. Things I’ve done in my sleep that I can’t believe happened.”
“Maybe they didn’t happen, Miguel.”
“What do you mean? They were staged?”
“Or not. Maybe they just told you what you did in your sleep, and it was all lies.”
He shook his head. “Some mornings I saw the results of my actions—bloody knuckles, other prisoners beat up and, later, hospital rooms destroyed. And the memories. I had memories of doing these things.”
She bent her knees and pulled them up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “That’s the sleeping. What about the lovemaking?”
“It worries me.”
“Obviously. Why?”
“It’s that loss of control.”
She turned her head toward him and rested her cheek on her knees. “Okay, I don’t want to deflate your male pride here but while the sex between us is undeniably hot and mind-blowing, it’s not like we forget who we are and what we’re doing.”
Her words coaxed a smile from his lips. “Don’t worry. My pride’s intact.”
“So, that brings me back to square one. I don’t understand what you have to fear from making love to your fiancée, even if you don’t want to fall asleep in my arms after.”
“Jen, the violence they embedded into my brain? It’s against you.”
She pressed a hand to her galloping heart. She whispered, “Why would they do that?”
“To cause the maximum amount of psychological damage. If they’d known about Mikey—” the veins of Miguel’s neck bulged out “—I’m sure they would’ve included him in the sick fantasies they drilled into me.”
“How did your captors even know about me?”
Point Blank SEAL Page 12