Cold Day In Hell

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Cold Day In Hell Page 8

by Monette Michaels


  With the knowledge that Tom hovered in the background, covering their asses, Risto did what he’d wanted to do ever since the last kiss during their joint shower. He covered her mouth with his. Anger, lust and fear driving him, he mounted an all-out assault. The little cat refused him entrance. He snorted then bit her lower lip. When she gasped, his tongue thrust inside and claimed what was his. He poured every strong emotion he’d held back during the confrontation with Cruz into the kiss, making sure she knew she was his and that he was the alpha in this partnership.

  When she whimpered, he released her mouth. She gasped for breath; her eyes glazed. His labored breathing rasped over her swollen lips. “Promise me you’ll never scare the shit out of me that way again.”

  Blinking, her gray eyes glittered, losing the dazed expression of a second ago. Her kiss-swollen lips tightened into a thin, mutinous line. She shook her head. “No.”

  He swore under his breath every foul word he knew in three languages. All through his litany of curses, Callie petted him, massaging his neck in a soothing manner. The obstinate look on her face remained. When he growled “stubborn brat” and swore some more, she had the audacity to snicker.

  He stopped cursing and shot her an angry glare. “What’s so damn amusing?”

  “Um, some of your swearing struck me funny.” She wrinkled her nose. “Hey, I can’t help it. I appreciate creative swearing. Marines seem to corner that market of all of the Armed Forces.”

  He shook his head, his anger disappearing as swiftly as it had arisen. He tugged one of her curls then rested his hand on her shoulder as he settled her back against the booth and as close to his side as he could without her being on his lap. He cast her a sideways glance. “Just a heads up, I plan on being in bed with you all night, Callie. Maybe I can fuck that sassiness out of you. You might want to finish your meal so you’ll have the energy for the evening’s activities.”

  Before she could come back at him—and he found he was anticipating what she would say or do to put him in his place next—they were interrupted. “Making new enemies, Risto? Trey and Ren know about this? Cruz is one vicious bastard.”

  “Tom.” Risto turned to greet the man. “Ren sent me to rescue Callie from the A-hole, so they knew I’d have a hard time avoiding his treacherous ass.”

  Tom slipped into the booth next to Risto. He reached around Risto’s body and offered his hand to Callie. “The world-famous Calista in my little dive bar. I’ll need to get a picture for my bar wall.” He waved a hand to a row of pictures of local celebrities and a few international ones.

  “Callie is a special friend of the Walshes.” Risto told the bar owner. “Her dad was Lieutenant Commander Meyers.”

  “I knew your dad.” Tom took Callie’s hand, pulled it across Risto’s body, and brought it to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to the back until Risto growled and took Callie’s hand into his own. Tom laughed then his face turned solemn. “Your dad saved my ass once, Callie. Anything I can do to help, I will.” He turned to Risto. “Word is on the street that Cruz has himself a new woman. Your little Callie?”

  “Shit. He made it public?” The para-leader would lose all face if Callie didn’t end up on his plantation as his woman. Cruz would pour everything he had against them in order to take her. Colombian terrorists were all about the machismo. Good thing Risto had planned to move up Callie’s extraction by twenty-four hours.

  “Yes.” Tom’s mouth twisted as if he tasted something foul. “Cruz leaves me alone since Paco, his cartel boss, is related to my Rosa and likes my fish tacos. Cruz has a bad rep with women, goes through them like water and they don’t wear his attentions well. Good thing you’re here to make sure he doesn’t slurp this little lady up.”

  “Yeah, good thing.” Risto massaged Callie’s hand with his thumb. “My intel says he’s a city boy. Cruz tends to stay away from the jungle and swamps. True?”

  “True. FARC and ELN own the jungles, but Cruz has some jungle boys. So, if you’re heading southwest for a Darien coastal extraction, watch your ass. There are all kinds of predators between here and there.”

  “I know.” Risto smiled grimly. “But even predators are prey sometimes.”

  Tom snorted. “Yeah, Trey told me he was impressed with how you handled yourself on SSI’s last little mission in the Darien. Said you must have leopard blood running in your veins.” He turned to Callie. “Just listen to what this man says, Callie. He’ll get you home safely. I’d trust him with Rosa out there—and that’s saying a lot.” He began to slide out of the booth. “Whenever you’re ready to leave, let my wife know. I’ll give you the special tour and take you out my escape tunnel.”

  “Escape tunnel?” Callie asked in a low, non-carrying tone.

  Tom grinned. “Yeah, ya never know when Paco might decide he doesn’t like my cooking. It probably would never happen since Rosa’s one of his favorite cousins and Paco loves to protect women. Plus, I also stay out of active covert ops. But my trainers always told me ‘shit happens,’ so I cover my ass.” He turned to Risto. “My little tunnel will take you to a vacant building I own three doors down. Cruz’s men won’t see you leave. I suggest you two don’t go back to your hotel.”

  “We aren’t. Now that Cruz has seen me, he’ll make his move to grab Callie as soon as he can. But we won’t be there.” He stroked the back of Callie’s head, loving the feel of her silky hair against his calloused and scarred palm. “Call Evan now, Callie. Tell him I’ll meet him and Chad at the cantina across from the hotel in two hours. I’ll give them their departure instructions then. Anything you might have forgotten from the suite, let me know. I’ll be paying it a final visit to tweak Cruz’s nose by unhooking those cameras and microphones.”

  “No!” She gasped then grabbed her throat as if she were choking.

  “Callie? What’s wrong?” Risto rubbed the back of her neck.

  “Y-you’re … uh, not … going … back … th-there.” She coughed and gasped for a breath.

  A panic attack. Shit. She was stressing out, worrying about him. He didn’t know if he was pissed because she thought so little of his ability to slip in and out of the room without Cruz’s men knowing or if he was happy about her caring so much. The same kind of caring that had had her putting her body between him and danger.

  Probably a little bit of both.

  “Sip some Sangria, baby. The alcohol will help relax your muscles.” He held the glass to her lips. “Slowly.” She took a sip, then another. “That’s a girl.” He helped her swallow past the constriction in her throat by gently massaging it with the back of his finger. “Good girl. Now, take slow, deep breaths.”

  She nodded and did as he’d asked.

  Tom hovered in front of the table, blocking them from curious eyes.

  Tears filled her beautiful gray eyes. Damn, he hated to see her tears. Holding a hand to her throat, she took over the massage, then finally managed to whisper, “There’s nothing there I…” She grabbed the glass and sipped some more of the wine.

  “Shh, I understand. I was going back anyway. By shutting off the cameras, it’ll drive him fucking crazy. He’ll double his efforts to find us, keeping his attention off the others.”

  She frowned, but he knew her natural instincts to protect Evan and Chad were roused. He saw it in her eyes.

  “Plus … the bastard has videos of you.”

  Tom snarled an ugly phrase aimed at Cruz.

  Risto concurred with the sentiment one hundred percent. “I’m shutting the cameras off. Then I’ll retrieve any back-ups.”

  He wouldn’t mention to Callie that anyone unlucky enough to be on porn duty tonight would die. That additional message would promise death to anyone spreading ugly rumors or any other surviving video about Callie. If something happened to Risto, SSI would back that promise up for Keely’s sake alone.

  Callie gasped. Her face went ashen, her eyes, distressed. She turned her hand under his and gripped it tightly. “It isn’t worth risking your life. I
don’t mind about the videos.”

  “I do.” Risto squeezed her cold hand.

  “Don’t risk yourself … whatever the bastard has recorded can’t hurt me. I’m not going to be in the public eye any longer. I’ll either be employed in the basement at NSA or possibly at Sanctuary with SSI. It’s hard to embarrass a person who doesn’t care what the public thinks about her any longer.”

  He cared. He cared a hell of a lot more than he should.

  “You’ve already been hurt. I saw the expression on your face when I told you about the cameras. I wanted to kill Cruz right then and there.”

  What was on those tapes? Had Callie been attacked by Cruz in her room and not in public as she had told him? Had she had some other man in her room since her arrival? He had to know. Bottom line, he didn’t want any risqué tapes of Callie out there.

  “Risto?” Callie stared at him, her eyes pleading. “Please tell me you aren’t going.”

  “I’m going.” Callie stiffened and opened her mouth, probably to argue even further. He wasn’t having it. He pulled her into his arms and nudged her head to his chest. “Shh. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” He stroked her hair and looked up at Tom, who nodded. At least a fellow marine agreed with him.

  “Callie can count on me and, I suspect, Conn?” Tom asked. Risto nodded. “We’ll make sure she gets to safety if something happens to you.”

  Callie sniffed then glared at Tom. “I need him. Alive. Period.”

  “Understood, darlin’,” Tom said. “But once a marine sets his mind on something, he doesn’t back down.”

  “Hell, Callie, Cruz will never know I’m there.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Just fucking trust me. Now, call Evan, baby. Set up the meet.”

  “God, I hate this.” She rubbed her forehead on his chest. He soothed the back of her neck. “If I’d checked Cruz out when he first bothered me in Chicago, I’d never have taken the job here—and none of this would be happening.”

  “No. You can’t think that way.” Risto practically growled the words. “Cruz would’ve found another way. A way which could have put you in a worse position. By luring you here and revealing himself, he played his hand too soon—and allowed you to get help. A dumb-ass move on his part. We’re smart—you and me.” He tipped up her chin and looked her firmly in the eye. “We’ll beat him and on his own turf. Just think how humiliating it will be. He’ll lose even more face. Who knows? Maybe one of his rivals will use our distraction to wrest power from him?”

  That was a very great possibility and one he, Trey, Ren and Keely had kicked around when planning the mission.

  “Fine. Go to the hotel. Send the bastard a message. I hope he chokes on it.” She glared, silver sparks glistening in her eyes. “And, dammit, come back to me or I’ll get really pissed.”

  Risto threw back his head and laughed, hugging her to him. “Count on it. Hoo-rah.”

  “Hoo-rah.” Callie and Tom echoed simultaneously.

  Chapter Six

  Callie paced the small, but luxurious, suite she and Risto had been shown to several hours earlier. The rooms were located in a private residence which was a quasi-bed-and-breakfast operated by SSI for private covert operatives. The mansion was situated in a quiet neighborhood adjacent to the old city. The place was definitely not open to the public. The grounds had safety and security measures to rival some embassies she’d visited. From the outside it looked like every other palatial residence on the quiet, tree-lined boulevard. The manager for SSI and an operative himself was Conn Redmond.

  She and Risto were currently the only guests. Their host had supplied them with gear for a potential trip into the rain forest, found her a ladies model Ruger, and was securing a new all-terrain vehicle for their trip, just in case shit happened and they needed to go off-road. He’d also provided a secure computer connection with video-conferencing capability and she’d spoken with her brothers and Colonel Walsh. Risto had held her as she cried tears of relief to see her brothers safe in the Colonel’s care.

  After ordering her to stay put, Risto had taken off on foot for his meeting with Evan and Chad and then his mission at her former hotel. That had been almost three hours ago. Her gut told her something was wrong.

  A knock on the door startled her. Had Risto forgotten his key? That didn’t make sense, he could’ve gotten another one from Conn or one of the guards on duty. She walked over and peered through the peep hole. It was their host. She opened the door. “What’s wrong?”

  Conn’s facial expression was blank as he took her hand and pulled her to the small sitting area in front of the fire he’d built for her earlier. Releasing her hand, he sat and patted the cushions next to him. “Sit, Callie.”

  Dread settled over her like a lead blanket. She sank onto the sofa. “Tell me. Is it Risto?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything from him yet.”

  She frowned. If not Risto then… “Is it Evan and the others?” Sickness pooled in her stomach. She looked at her watch—it was ten o’clock. The escort should’ve already picked them up for the ride to the Barranquilla airport.

  Again he shook his head. “I got confirmation that your friends are on their way. So far, no one has attempted to stop them.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  Conn, a tough-looking blond, leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Cruz has his men tearing the city apart to find you. This makes your situation even more dangerous since there are people in this town who’d sell out their mothers to get on Cruz’s good side.”

  “But we expected that … it makes a good diversion for Evan, Chad and the others.”

  He let out a rough breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s worse than we expected. Cruz has offered a large reward for Risto’s dead body and your live one. This means every free-lance mercenary in town will be on the hunt. The fact he’s willing to bring in outsiders indicates this is more than business as usual. Hate to say it, sweet cheeks, but Cruz is a tad bit psychotic about possessing you. And when crazy people do crazy things, innocents get hurt.”

  Her breath hitched but she managed to stifle the moan threatening to erupt from her throat. “He’s hurting people to find me?” She gasped. “Tom and Rosa?”

  “They’re fine. They’ve gone to visit Rosa’s cousins in the cartel. Paco is the head of Rosa’s family and understands loyalty to family and leaving innocents out of business whenever possible. Cruz wanting you is not business as far as Paco is concerned—and I got that straight from Tom who got it straight from Paco.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. “This makes it more dangerous for Risto? With more people hunting for him?” He nodded, his mouth a thin grim line. “We have to go get him.”

  “Not we, me and one of my men. I just wanted to let you know I’d be out of the house for a while.”

  “But…”

  Conn shook his head and chuckled. “Risto told me to tie you to the bed and not let you come after him if he was late—or if something happened. My job, and my only job, was to make sure you kept your sweet ass here.”

  “But he didn’t need to go back to the hotel … the meeting with Evan and Chad was necessary, but the rest … he did for me. And I asked, begged him not to go.” She began to cry. “He’s out there risking his life for nothing.”

  Conn stared. “What in the fuck did he go back to the Sofitel for if it wasn’t necessary? Did you leave something important in the room? Your passport? Money? Jewelry?”

  The man must think she was some sort of high-maintenance bitch. “God no, nothing like that. I made sure I had everything I needed when we left to eat at Tom’s place. Why didn’t he tell you?” she asked the question more of herself than him. Then she knew, Risto had been protecting her again—from humiliation. He didn’t want his friend and associate to know about the videotaping. Damn him, her feelings weren’t more important than his life.

  Conn snorted. “I asked. The asshole told me it was none of my b
usiness.”

  But it was his business. Conn risked exposure of this operation if Cruz expanded his hunt to this area of town. Someone could’ve seen them arrive and sold them out just as Conn suggested.

  “Cruz was videotaping me. He had the whole room wired.”

  “Well, fuck the perverted son of a bitch.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat and willed herself not to blush at Conn’s intense scrutiny. No time to get embarrassed. Risto could be in danger—they all could. “Risto wanted to disconnect the cameras to keep Cruz focused on us so the others could get away.”

  “That wasn’t the real reason. Cruz was always going to be focused on finding you. The damn chivalrous idiot wanted to destroy any copies of the videos, didn’t he?” She nodded. Conn rubbed a hand over his face and swore some more. “Well, hell, I can understand his motivation, but the shithead could’ve told me—that’s more than a one-man job.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t care about the video or who saw it. But he said he wanted to send a message about what would happen if any copies of the videos were released.”

  “Sounds like him. Always the lone wolf, our Risto. Fucking Force Recon marines, think they’re bullet proof.” Conn stood. “I’ll take my second in command, Berto, and go after him, cover his ass.”

  “I’m coming along.” She stood. “Just let me put on something dark so I blend in with the night better.” She had on a white T-shirt of Risto’s and a pair of his plaid boxers. She had few clothes and had used Conn’s laundry to wash her jeans. They were still in the dryer.

  “I believe we’ve covered this ground already.” He towered over her in an attempt to intimidate, but she’d been raised around larger men than Conn and didn’t intimidate easily. And she’d hurt Conn if he tried to restrain her in any way. No man touched her that way, well, maybe Risto if he wanted to play, but not this man, not for real.

  “I can help. I can shoot. I was taught to slink around in the shadows by the same men who trained Force Recon operatives. I’m pretty sure I can keep up with you and help keep watch outside the casita.”

 

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