He’d been a joy to watch as a cornerback during Saturday night football games back in high school, and he’d become one of the school’s heroes because he’d helped his team get a state championship during his junior year. Girls HAD drooled all over him after that. But despite their interest, he always chose Mattie to hang out with.
“That tasted good, Mattie,” he said, handing the glass to her. He glanced up, looking at the clock above them. “Well, I’d better get going.”
“Can’t I drive you somewhere, Mark?” Instantly, the look in his eyes flattened and became indecipherable.
“No. It’s four a.m., Mattie. I know you have school tomorrow at seven.” He reached out, surprising her by touching a curled strand near her cheek. “Go back to bed and don’t worry about me. I’m just a bad penny in your life. You never know when I’ll turn up. Hey, get some sleep, okay?”
The moment his finger grazed her cheek, easing the strand away from near her eye, she fought back a desperate hunger for more. He knew from their high school days together how she felt about him, but since returning home, Mattie assumed she was still just a good friend, even though she wanted so much more. But he wouldn’t let her inside those walls he’d built. She wasn’t sure he even saw her as anything more than friend. Rallying, she gave him a tender look.
“Okay, I will. Do you need anything else? I have some protein bars in the drawer over there.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” He took a few steps away from her, then turned and said, “I’m sorry, Mattie. I just seem to come to you when I’m hurt so you can patch me up and send me off again. You deserve so much more than that. Take care of yourself, okay?”
CHAPTER 2
December 24
“What do you think, Wyatt?” Mattie asked her brother the next evening. Tal, his fiancée, had come with him. Mattie had made them supper and told them about Mark’s unexpected appearance. Tal listened closely, saying little, but Mattie could see there was a lot going on in her head by the look in her eyes and the set of her mouth.
Wyatt cut the apple pie Mattie had made for them at the kitchen counter. “My guess is that he’s in some kind of black-ops activity, Mattie.”
“But on which side?” she asked, holding up a china plate with pink cactus flowers painted around its edges.
“Good question,” Tal said, standing up from the table. “I’ll get us coffee and we can go to the living room, all right, Mattie?”
“Yes, that would be great, Tal. Thanks.” She turned and looked at her brother. Wyatt had confided to her that Mark had saved his life last night even though he’d broken his arm. She remembered Mark had given her a warning two days earlier and said, “Wyatt, Mark warned us not to go to that corner of our ranch. So who is he working for?”
Wyatt’s mouth pursed and he put two more pieces of pie on two more plates. “That’s what I can’t figure out right now, Mattie. Mark warned you to stay away from that area, so for me, given the way he was dressed last night, he could be working for that drug lord, Cardona. His base of operation is in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. Mark wasn’t with the government forces that I was with last night. He was working on the other side. I don’t like saying this because I don’t want to believe Mark would do that kind of illegal activity.”
Gasping a little, Mattie stared up at her brother. He didn’t look happy about it, either.
“Come on,” Wyatt urged her gently, picking up two of the plates. “Let’s go have our dessert in the living room and we can discuss it further in there.”
Mattie numbly nodded and picked up the last piece of pie. Following him, she saw that Tal, even wearing that medical boot on her injured foot, had managed to get three filled mugs of coffee on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Tal sat down with Wyatt on the gold velour couch and Mattie took the overstuffed chair opposite them. They looked worried.
“You’re both black ops. Tal, I know you were a Marine Corps sniper and a captain, and Wyatt was a SEAL and a sniper. What are you two putting together about Mark’s disappearance and his visit last night with a broken arm?”
Wyatt cut into his pie with a fork and glanced to his right, meeting Tal’s shadowed gaze. “Well,” he drawled, “my guess is that he’s either gone over to the dark side or he’s working undercover for our government and can’t tell anyone that’s what he’s doing. He’s sworn to secrecy.”
“The dark side?” Tal asked, her thin black brows knitting as she studied Wyatt. “Why use that term? It’s not the military.”
“It’s a long story, Tal,” Mattie said. I’ll give you the shorter version. “‘Dark side’ was a code word among the Lockwood and Reuss kids as we grew up together. Mark got the hell beaten out of him for nearly fifteen years by his old man, Jeb Reuss. His father kept telling him that he was from the dark side, someone who would stain the life of everyone he met. He convinced the kid that only bad things would happen to people when he showed up.”
Tal grimaced. “What a bastard, doing that number on his own child!”
Wyatt sat back, enjoying his pie. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know, darlin,’ about this area. Otherwise it wouldn’t surprise you that Jeb Reuss is actually the black cloud in everyone’s life, not just Mark’s. My father went to court with three different lawsuits against the guy while I was growing up. Jeb is a bully and he takes what he wants. He doesn’t ask and doesn’t care if it’s someone else’s property. He’s been in and out of jail practically every year. And on top of that, he’s an alcoholic.”
“Yes, and a mean, abusive one,” Mattie added bitterly. “Mark bears scars on his back and hips from when his dad hit him with that thick leather belt he always wore.”
“Good God,” Tal muttered, disbelief in her voice. “Where was his mother?”
“Dead,” Wyatt said flatly. “She died when Sage, the second child, was born. Jeb blamed his daughter for his wife’s death, of course. He was always good at assigning blame to everyone else but himself.”
“Yes,” Mattie breathed quietly, “Jeb was verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive toward Mark and Sage.”
“Mark did everything he could to protect Sage from that sick bastard,” Wyatt growled. “He took the beatings meant for her and he’d always challenge Jeb, making himself the target so Sage could escape.”
Tal blinked. “This sounds horrible, Wyatt. Where was law enforcement? Why wasn’t Jeb thrown into prison for what he did to his children?”
“Because Jeb was smart enough to put bruises on Mark where they wouldn’t be seen by his teachers,” Mattie said. “And both sets of grandparents were not here to help or protect those two children.”
“Mark’s grandparents on his father’s side, were dead. Their mother’s family was back in Maine. They hated Jeb and never came out for a visit, so Sage and Mark grew up without ever meeting them. It’s heartbreaking.”
“Is Jeb still alive?” Tal wondered.
“Oh, yeah,” Wyatt muttered. “He’s too mean a snake to die young.”
“Well, who’s running the Reuss ranch, then?”
“Sage is,” Mattie said. “Jeb suffered a debilitating stroke five years ago. Mark was in the Marine Corps, deployed to Afghanistan when it happened. He never took medical leave to come home and see his father, but you can’t blame him for that. Jeb still lives on the ranch, but Sage brought it back from the edge of bankruptcy and made it successful. Now, she raises Brangus cattle.”
“And he still lives on the ranch with her?” Tal demanded.
“Yes,” Wyatt said between bites. “There’s a small house about half a mile away from the main ranch house. It’s a single-story, red-brick home. Jeb lives there with a male caregiver Sage pays to assist him. She won’t have anything to do with her father.”
Mattie sought to reassure Tal. “Sage and I have always been the best of friends, and she refuses to do anything for her father except pay his medical bills and see that he’s comfortable. She won’t visit him or talk to him. Instead,
all communications go through Frank, the helper who takes care of Jeb.”
Tal pushed a bit of pie around on her plate with her fork, frowning down at it. “Sounds like a pretty dysfunctional family, if you ask me.”
“It is,” Wyatt agreed. “All four of us kids were friends with Mark and Sage while we were growing up. They spent most of their time here at our ranch whenever they could. They wanted to get as far away from Jeb and his violent anger as possible. Often, my mother would invite them to stay for dinner, especially in the summertime. Because everyone knew Jeb’s drinking schedule, we’d drive them back to their ranch after dark, when Jeb had passed out on the sofa. Mark and Sage could then experience a quiet, uneventful night.”
Tal sighed and picked at her pie, upset by what she was hearing. “And yet, Mark saved your life last night, Wyatt. He’s not all bad as everyone seems to make him out to be.”
Nodding, Wyatt finished off his pie, setting the plate on the coffee table. “Mark was a Recon Marine, Tal, black ops. He was in Afghanistan for five deployments, just like us. The Marine Corps does a serious background check on anyone applying for the Recons, as you know, and Mark passed in flying colors. He was never the dark presence his old man made him out to be to the people of Van Horn. Sometimes, I’d see Mark at Bagram and we’d sit, chow down, and have a beer together.”
“Does Mark believe he’s a bad person?” Tal wondered.
Mattie moved her hands nervously in her lap. “Yes, he believes it, Tal, and it just kills me. He’s the kindest, most gentle man I know.”
“He didn’t look that way when I saw him at your kindergarten class,” she said. “He was on guard and looked pretty uptight. I could tell he didn’t trust me at all.”
“He was jumpy,” Mattie agreed. “I could tell he wished you weren’t there because he wanted to tell me something, but I don’t know what it was.”
“You mean more than what he actually did tell you?” Wyatt asked.
“Yes.” She shrugged and gave them a helpless look. “It was just a gut feeling, Wyatt, that’s all. It was nothing he said.”
“He’s seems to be a man of few words,” Tal said. “He was wary of me. I sensed he knew I was black ops, too, because you tend to recognize your own kind by just being in the same general vicinity with them.”
Wyatt slid her a warm glance. “I sure did with you.”
Tal snorted. “It wasn’t exactly love at first sight with you, Lockwood.”
Giving her a cocky grin, he preened. “No, that’s true, but I wore you down with my good ole Texas boy ways.”
Mattie smiled. “You two are good for each other.”
Tal raised an eyebrow. “We didn’t realize it at first, believe me.”
“Oh,” Wyatt gloated, “I knew from the gitgo, darlin’. I just had to be patient until you figured it all out in your beautiful mind. After all, you were pretty busy being the assistant CO of a sniper group at Bagram.”
“You were certainly a serious distraction for me, Lockwood.”
Chuckling, he said, “Yes, the best kind. Don’t you agree?”
Mattie loved their back-and-forth, and felt all her tension melt away listening to their playful banter. She could tell her brother deeply loved Tal and vice versa. Inwardly, she wished with all her heart and soul that she and Mark could have a similar relationship.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
“Mattie?” Wyatt said, interrupting her thoughts. “When we get back to Artemis in Alexandria in early January, I’m going to do some snooping around about Mark. If he’s undercover, it’s certainly deep, which means I have to find the right guy who’ll give me more than a stonewall answer.”
“Remember, Wyatt, as a SEAL, you taught the whole Lockwood clan about what ‘top secret’ means,” Mattie said drily. “I know I’m a civilian, and I know there’s a lot I don’t know about the military, brother. But if you could find out what Mark’s doing, I’d sleep a lot better at night.”
*
Mark didn’t think the garbage he’d sunk into could get any deeper, but it was going that direction. He’d holed up in an abandoned warehouse on the other side of Van Horn. Needing sleep before he figured out what to do next, he’d awakened near noon, feeling cold, curled up in a small room to protect himself from the drafts of the aluminum building that had seen better days.
Suddenly, his cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his back jean’s pocket, Mark saw the number flash on his cell and knew it was his DEA handler, Gordon Hilber. Cursing softly, he answered it.
“Where the hell are you, Reuss?”
“I’m in a warehouse at the western end of Van Horn, laying low,” he snarled back. Hilber was one of those control freaks who had never done undercover work but liked to make others miserable by acting superior.
“I’ve been calling for hours. The multi-agency assault on Cardona’s trucks was a complete success. Where the hell did you go? What are you doing in Van Horn? You know you shouldn’t be there.”
Sitting up, he rested his broken arm against his belly. Mark had taken off the sling earlier so he could try to sleep. He’d managed to catch some shuteye, but it had been light, restless sleep. Now, he was irritable but he told Hilber what had happened, leaving Mattie out of the equation. He would protect her at all costs.
“Your Jeep overturned?”
“Yeah, so I don’t have wheels.” He gave Hilber the address of the warehouse where he could be picked up.
“Has Cardona tried contacting you?”
“Not yet. Things are probably in disarray. He’s going to be pissed off about those three trucks taken by those agencies. He was expecting this run to be smooth and uneventful trip across the border.”
“I’m worried that Cardona will kill you if you show up.”
“Why?”
“Because all his men have either been killed, wounded, or put into custody at the assault site last night.”
“Hell, he won’t know where I am. He has no idea exactly what happened last night. Did any of his soldiers get away?”
“None of them,” Hilber said, sounding satisfied. Then, his tone changed to one of concern. “What about you? Have you gone to a hospital to get your arm checked out?”
“No. There’s no way I’m exposing myself here in Van Horn. I don’t want Cardona finding out I was here, and then sending a truck full of drug soldiers to shoot up the town or the hospital because it’s where I used to live.”
“But Cardona doesn’t know you’re from Van Horn. Your identification and name are fake.”
“Even so, I didn’t want to risk it,” he said, suddenly weary. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday before the attack and needed some water, but there wasn’t any in the warehouse.
“I’ve decided to pull you from this operation, Reuss. You’re done. We’ll find something else for you.”
Anger surged through Mark, his fingers tightening around the cell phone. “The only reason I got in bed with you bastards was to save my friend’s family and their lives.”
“Yes, and you did that. They’re in the Witness Protection Program, long gone, their names changed. Cardona will never find them, so you did good on that one, Reuss. But I’m afraid Cardona will suspect you if you show up without any of his other soldiers.”
“I thought the same thing, which is why I holed up here.”
“Look, I want you to get to a hospital.”
“I’m fine. I’ve had worse injuries before, Hilber.”
“Then I’m sending a car from El Paso to pick you up.”
“When you do,” Mark growled, “I’m quitting the DEA. I’m finished.” There was dead silence over the phone line.
“I want my fucking life back. Going undercover guarantees I’ll never have one. I did this to get my Marine friend out of Cardona’s network, and that’s been accomplished.”
“So what will you do?” Hilber demanded, his voice shaking with fury.
“Go home and start my life all over,” Mark said. “Cardona
doesn’t know my real name or where I live.”
“That’s true, but we need you, Mark.”
He heard the wheedling in Hilber’s voice and he snarled, “I need a life, dammit. I spent ten years in the Marine Corps. My time with the DEA is enough. I’m not interested in what you want to offer me. Get my papers in order by the time I reach El Paso. I’m quitting. Send a car to pick me up and make it fast. I’m tired, cold, and hungry. I’ll send you the GPS.”
Clicking off the cell after sending his location, Mark sat with his back against a wall. The place was musty, with cobwebs and dust everywhere. His stomach growled. It would be so easy to walk to that café, José’s Diner, and grab a hot breakfast. His mind whirled with options. It would take a few hours for a DEA car to come to Van Horn and pick him up here at this warehouse. He could walk the quarter mile and get a hot breakfast. But he knew José, and he knew he’d be recognized. What lies would he tell the owner? And what if Mattie showed up for breakfast?
Rubbing his gritty face, he closed his eyes, trying to think. The pain in his arm was lessening and he was grateful. Damn it, his poor excuse for a father had been right about him. All he brought others was misery and suffering. He’d seen how Mattie felt about him earlier this morning. She never could hide her deep affection for him.
Suddenly, he was overcome with sadness. He felt alone, with nothing to anchor him. Thanks to the Marine Corps, he’d had stability and purpose, and he’d begun to feel that he was valuable to others, not a curse or underfoot any longer. Slowly, he was dislodging the poison his father had planted within him. But it was an uphill battle, and now, he was reminded that he couldn’t escape his past.
But then, there was Mattie. His heart opened as he visualized her sweet face, her freckles, her red hair that was just as wild and free as she was. Just seeing her filled him with peace—it always had. He wished he could tell her how much she meant to him. Could he ever? In Van Horn, he’d been a troublemaker throughout school, and his reputation had followed him into adulthood.
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