Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2

by Cross, Lindsay

  Amy’s entire body was a mass of nerves, but she couldn’t resist peeking around Ranger’s broad shoulders. Any look of congeniality disappeared from the Mexican’s face. He lowered a beefy hand to the bottom of his shirt and slowly lifted it up. A small black pistol nestled between his jeans waistband and bulging stomach.

  Ranger took a step forward, when a sane man would have backed up. He towered over the Mexican by a good foot. Needing to do something besides stand there like an idiot, Amy sidestepped and crossed her arms, intending to tell Santos to kiss off. But Ranger shoved her back behind him.

  “You could say the same thing about necks. So delicate, so easily broken.” Ranger took another step. Santos lowered his hand, resting it on the butt of the gun.

  Pedro eased closer to Santos, his gaze locked on the weapon. “Santos, you come here for me. Let them alone.”

  Amy had brought Pedro and his son into her home. Gave him a job. Gave him a chance at a life in the US. And now he put himself between her and Santos.

  “Yes, mi amigo. I did. But now I see what you’ve been hiding.” Santos’s black eyes slid to her. Amy lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze, while inside she shivered.

  She’d never been threatened before. Never.

  “Miss Amy,” Pedro’s son, Arturo, rushed from the back door of the hangar to her. His little voice was the only warning before he launched himself into her arms. She caught him mid-leap, his legs wrapped around her waist, his arms locked around her neck.

  “Ah, so this is Arturo. A strong young man.” Santos’s eyes reflected his black soul.

  Amy had no idea what he had planned for Artie, but she instinctively turned, shielding the boy from his view.

  “Lobello. I see the tattoos on your face. I know what you do to women and children.” Ranger’s voice was harsh. Deadly. “You need to leave and never come back, or your gang won’t be able to do anything but bury the pieces left when I’m done.”

  Even Artie kept quiet, his usually prolific talking silent, and buried his face against her neck.

  “Please, Santos. I told you, I cannot help. Please, do as he says.” Pedro said.

  Amy glanced back to see the hard line of Santos mouth break into a grin more menacing than Hannibal Lecter. “You are right. I will go.” Santos wrapped a hand around the back of Pedro’s neck and yanked him close. “But you and I, we will speak again.”

  Santos looked at Amy “I will see you soon, bonita.”

  Maybe, if she were smart, she’d ignore the threat. But not today. Not now. He’d threatened Pedro. He’d threatened her. He’d threatened Artie. And she be damned if he touched a hair on the boy’s head. “Get off my property before I call the cops.”

  *

  Ranger used every ounce of control to keep his arms at his sides and not wrapped his hands around Santos’s neck. The small L shaped tattoos trailing from the corners of the man’s eyes clearly labeled him as a Lobello. The gang of Mexican cartel wannabes and undocumented murderers used a small L, instead of a teardrop, to mark all of their rapes and kills. And Santos had enough to prove that he wasn’t all talk.

  “Nice tattoos.” Ranger said,

  “Si señor, and if my friend here is not careful, I’m going to add two more.”

  Pedro visibly fought to stay brave although his fear was palpable. And as much as Ranger wanted to kill Santos, he couldn’t sacrifice his mission. The Lobellos were his mission. He had been heading to their territory a mere two hours ago.

  But if the asshole didn’t stop looking at Amy like she was naked, Ranger would forget the mission. He’d forget the law. He’d forget everything honorable in his body and murder the Mexican. Fuck the mission.

  “I’ll be in touch, Pedro. Give you a day to think about it.” Santos said.

  “No. No thinking. Get the hell out.” Ranger crowded Santos’s space, forced the smaller man back a step. He could give a dick if the fucker was packing. He’d killed under worse circumstances.

  Santos raised his dirty hands and backed up. He turned and walked out. But Ranger had the feeling the man wouldn’t heed his warning. And he’d have to be dealt with.

  But not until Ranger took care of Amy. She clutched Arturo like a mamma bear protecting her cub, not one hint of fear on her beautiful face. Only fury. Ranger’s chest swelled with pride. His woman was fierce.

  “Miss Amy, I sorry. I told him not to come here.” Pedro pulled off his ball cap and knocked it on his leg, sending a cloud of dust puffing into the air.

  “It’s not your fault.” Amy said.

  “Damned if it’s not his fault. What the hell are you doing getting involved with the Lobellos?” Ranger couldn’t suppress his anger. Not after Santos threatened Amy. And no matter how grateful Pedro was for taking his family in off the street, he was mixed up with the worst gang within three states. Which meant danger to anyone Pedro knew.

  “Don’t talk to him like that.” Amy snapped. Ranger ignored her, keeping his gaze focused on Pedro.

  “The Lobellos got us to the US. I gave him everything, all my money. They said that all they need. Me and Arturo, we come here, look for work. I thought we were finally free. Then Santos showed up. Said I owe him.” Pedro fidgeted, looked down. His stance deflated.

  “They can’t do that.” Amy said. “We will call the police.”

  “No. The police no help illegals. He would send us back. Arturo will be U.S. Citizen.” Pedro shook his head, pushed his shoulders back. “No. We will leave. Tonight. That way Santos have no reason to come back.”

  “No Papa. I don’t want to go.” Arturo cried out, squeezing his little arms around Amy’s neck in a death grip.

  Amy petted the boy’s hair, soothed him. “No, you’re not leaving. I won’t let you.”

  “Leaving isn’t going to solve the problem. Not now.” Ranger said. Not after seeing the look of lust in Santos gaze when he looked at Amy. The man would be back, whether Pedro left or not.

  The woman was crazy. And he wanted her so bad he’d give up breathing for a kiss. He would stay here. He would protect her. He just had to figure out a way not to totally screw his mission.

  Amy finally set Arturo on the ground, the five-year-old took off running to his father, but stopped halfway. Staring up at Ranger. “Why you naked, signor?”

  5

  Chapter 5

  “Arturo. It’s bedtime. No more talking tonight.” Pedro tipped his hat down, a perfect shield. If the man shrank any further he’d go to migit-mode. “Miss Amy, I sorry. I not intend to bring trouble.”

  “But papa, the sun is still up.”

  “Hush,” Pedro eased his harsh tone by soothing a hand over Artie’s curly black hair. He faced Amy, the look in his eyes way too intense for Ranger. Too intense and too familiar.

  Rangers gut twisted with a feeling he’d so far only harbored for his dead best friend. Jealousy.

  “We leave before we bring you trouble,” Pedro said.

  “No. You two aren’t going anywhere. I’ll call the sheriff and let him know so he can keep an eye out. I can’t run this place without you.”

  “I can help. I know how to deal with people like Santos.” Ranger had no intention of letting the pair leave and break Amy’s heart. Even if Pedro was giving her goo-goo eyes. He would stake out her place, camp on her front lawn if he had to, whether she wanted it or not.

  “Don’t need your help. We’ve got it. Right Pedro?” Amy foraged on.

  “Please papa, I don’t want to go.” Artie’s baby brown eyes pleaded worse than a lost puppy. No way anyone could turn that kid down.

  “Yes, miss. We stay. You want to run the plane tomorrow? I have it ready.”

  “I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got something else to do.” Amy grabbed Artie and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. “I can’t run this place without you either little man.”

  “I’m going to make you a special present, Miss Amy.” Artie gave her a quick hug. “But no painting.”

  Pedro and Arturo said their go
odbyes. She’d given her old farmhouse to them rent-free earlier this year when Pedro had shown up looking for work. When any other single woman would have hid behind a locked door, she had let them in. Given them a home. A job. A chance at life. His woman had a kind heart. An innocent heart. “You’re a good woman.”

  And one that would get her killed if she didn’t get help with the Lobellos.

  “Anyone would do it,” she said.

  The sun sank lower, and the shadows stretched across the hangar. Heavy air pressed him down almost as much as his worry. A threat from the Lobellos wasn’t anything to take lightly. His recon on the gang had been so far from small-town-wannabe-gang, they almost qualified for the Mexican Mafia.

  In fact, they operated a lot like ISA, the Islamic State of Afghanistan, which Ranger fought overseas. The same ISA that killed Shane.

  The Lobello’s initiation required a “triple.” One drug deal. One rape. One kill. By the time a member reached the next level, their face was tattooed with an L from cheek to chin. Santos had most definitely reached level five.

  Amy and her innocent heart would be trampled in a second. “Not just anybody would take in a complete stranger.” Ranger tugged her to him. “Amy, I’m going to run home and take a shower, grab an overnight bag. I’ll stay here. Make sure Santos doesn’t come back.”

  “Ranger, I can’t do this. We can’t do this.” She tugged back, but he held firm.

  She had to understand. He wasn’t letting her go. His muscles pulled tighter than rigger cord beneath an open parachute canopy on a HALO jump. He wasn’t leaving her alone to be trapped and tortured by a psychotic gang. “You might not want me to, but there is no way I’m letting you stay here, alone, with Santos’s threat. He will come back.”

  “I’m not alone. Pedro is here. I have a gun. We’ll be fine.” She crossed her arms, looked at him like he would just say okay and leave.

  Not on her life.

  “No, you won’t. I’ve fought men like him. They’re dirty and dangerous. And if you think some puny shotgun and an illegal immigrant with a five-year-old can protect you, your nuts. Think of Chloe. Do you want to risk her? Santos is coming back. He might not tonight, but he wants you. I saw it. And if he gets you, I might not be able to save you.”

  Amy’s face drained of any color. Her lip trembled and Ranger wanted to hold her, tell her she would be okay. The look of desperate fear on her face ripped his heart. But she had to understand, and if he had to use her baby to make her realize the danger, he would. He’d seen too much death in his job to just let her go. Let her fend for herself. Ranger gripped her arms hard and fought the images flashing in his mind. Images of women and children from battle zones, bloody and broken. He’d seen too many hurt and killed because of evil men. Only this time, stranger’s faces were replaced with Amy’s. Fury refueled his determination.

  “Ranger, please, let go. You’re holding on too tight.”

  He immediately relaxed his grip, but he couldn’t let go of the fear for her. “I’ve seen what they can do. Is that what you want? You want to get hurt? You want them to take Arturo and make him Lobello? And you and Chloe? I promise, once he is through using you he will sell you both and you will disappear. He knows you live alone, out here, on this farm. He could do anything and by the time I got here, it would be too late.”

  The last bit of resolve melted from her face. Ranger fought the regret climbing up his spine. All he wanted today was to talk to her, hope for a date, maybe a kiss. Instead, a goddamn Mexican cartel honed its sights on his woman.

  His woman.

  No, Shane’s woman. He shouldn’t think of her like that. Like he had a right to her body. But more and more he found himself wanting more than her body. He wanted her heart. Her soul. Her love.

  He wanted to be there to protect her and Chloe. The thought of children, or raising a child, had never before entered his mind. But seeing her with Chloe in her arms did things to him. Made him feel deeper. No, he shouldn’t want Amy Carter or her baby. He should honor his promise to look out for her, a promise he’d made to Shane at his graveside. But he did want her. He wanted all of her.

  “You can’t stay here. Not tonight.” Amy placed a hand, gently, on his chest. He felt like she shoved her fist into his chest and gripped his heart. “I’m not stupid. I understand that this guy is a threat. But it can’t be you protecting us. I’ll call Bo.”

  “Why are you so damn scared of me?” Did she have another man? Is that why she didn’t want him here? The control he’d fought so hard for flew further away. He’d kill whatever bastard laid a hand on her.

  “I can’t tell you. Just trust me, you don’t want to be here.”

  “Is it another man? Is that why you’re so hell bent on stomping me down?” Fury faded to red. Then black. He couldn’t see straight. Ranger had fought for so long against a ghost, he didn’t know if he could deal with a real live person.

  “Is that what you think, I’m sleeping around? You’ve lost it. I haven’t ever been with anyone else!” Amy shouted and twisted in his grip.

  “Why else won’t you let me protect you?” Ranger roared in response to her outburst. His chest clenched so tight his ribs were near breaking. He didn’t think he could take it. If she was in love with someone else. If she chose someone else again. He knew he couldn’t take it.

  6

  Chapter 6

  “Let go.” Amy screamed so sharp the metal walls rattled. She lifted her arms, and then yanked them down, flinging Ranger’s grip from her.

  Rage. Fear. Heat. Was she losing her mind? Why did she crave the touch of a man who thought she slept around? How could she betray Shane so quickly. It hadn’t even been a year since the funeral. What kind of woman could move past her husband’s death like that? And for a man who thought she was a slut. “You asshole. You really think I’m seeing someone else?”

  Ranger didn’t look remorseful. In fact, he leaned down, his stupid-perfect chest glowed gold in the sunset. And her stupid-stupid heart did a flip-flop for joy.

  “I don’t know what to think. You’ve flown circles around me so long I can’t see straight.”

  “So of course, big caveman, you assume it’s about sex?” Amy balled up her fist, the blood pumping. Shane had never talked to her like that. Never.

  But he’d never talked to her at all.

  “Just tell me. End my misery.” Ranger yelled right back. He didn’t turn and walk away. He didn’t go cold and distant, like she didn’t matter. “Dammit Amy Ann, I’ve never loved another woman in my entire life. It’s always been you. Always.”

  Oh God. “Ranger…” What to say?

  I love you?

  She might as well close her business and hang the foreclosure sign in the window. And Chloe, what about her daughter? Could Mavis use her relationship with Ranger to take her daughter away? Make her look like an unfit mother?

  Ranger stood tall then. Looked down at her. A look she’d seen before. The one right before the people in her life walked out the door.

  Amy swallowed past the lump of cotton in her throat. Her father had given her that look. Seventeen years old, the week before prom. She hadn’t seen him since.

  Shane gave her the same look after their fight. He’d boarded a plane for Afghanistan without a backwards glance.

  Now Ranger.

  Tears threatened but she looked away and blinked hard. Not again. She didn’t care. She didn’t freaking care.

  “I’m not leaving. You can scream and cuss all you want. I know you love me.” Ranger grabbed her arms again. This time though he held her at arm’s-length. Trapping her in his strong hands and strong gaze. “I’m. Not. Leaving.”

  The metal cage around her heart cracked. “What?” He wasn’t giving up?

  “Your temper might scare off a weaker man, but not me. Because deep down, I know you want me to stay. I know you’ve got some fucked up reason to tell yourself why you can’t let me, but you want me too.”

  He wasn’t leaving. N
ot Shane. Not her father.

  “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me right now to my face that our kiss doesn’t drive you wild. That you don’t think about that night together. Tell me it didn’t mean anything.” Ranger didn’t blink or break his gaze from hers. He didn’t give her the chance to look away.

  She couldn’t speak. Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t tell him that, because she’d dreamed about that night every single day since. She’d imagined his lips on hers. Imagined his mouth on her skin. Tasting. Taking. Torturing.

  “I can’t. Please, Ranger. I can’t. Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because, you’re worth fighting for. Every damn day for the rest of my life.” Ranger’s voice was harsh, deep, and caressed her skin like the softest silk. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

  I don’t want you. But her lips wouldn’t form the words. He wanted her enough to see past her false anger. Past the front. He wanted her enough to stay. “I want you.”

  Ranger groaned and yanked her to him. “Dammit.” Ranger crushed his mouth over hers in a kiss that communicated all the pent up need. All the longing. She parted her lips, welcomed his probing tongue. Met him head on and clutched his shoulders like a lifeline, because if he let her go, she’d collapse on the ground. He tilted his head, slanting his mouth over hers. The kiss was so intense she almost melted.

  She couldn’t help but notice every little detail. His day’s growth beard scraping across her jaw. His tight lips, so tender and soft. His smell. The way a man should smell. All earth and musk and raw sex. Her stomach clenched, her thighs clenched, her entire body clenched, desperate for more of this man.

  He drove her wild, past reason, past her a-good-girl-shouldn’t-do-this thoughts. She wanted him so bad.

  His hands moved from her shoulders, down to her elbows. Each inch of her skin burned. When his hands fell on her hips, she jerked forward. He cupped her ass, lifted and squeezed. Amy moaned, the intense sensations torturing her insides. Please don’t stop.