Ranger captured her mouth in a kiss meant to dominate. She filled his senses. He slanted his mouth over hers, thrusting his tongue deep, forcing her to respond to his kiss. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t stay away. She was his everything. His hope. And she was going to quit endangering herself, even if he had to chain her to his bed.
She whimpered, the small sound breaking into his insanity. He became aware of her nails digging into his flesh. Her shaking. Guilt gut punched him.
He had to stop, to break free of this...madness.
Ranger eased up, pulled back, but before he could separate from her, she wrapped her hands around his neck. Her tongue met his, and he was lost.
Chapter 4
Amy relinquished control. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t find her anger or her logic. Not when Ranger held her like this.
The loneliness she refused to admit to anyone, even herself, urged her onward. This was what she needed. This volcanic explosion of lust.
Ranger trailed kisses across her cheek, down her neck. She really shouldn’t be kissing him. Touching him. If anyone found out...
Ranger bit down on her neck, drew her skin into his mouth. She gasped, grabbed his shoulders for support. Nothing about the man was soft. His corded muscles felt like satin encased steel.
His hands fell to her bottom, lifted and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked them backwards, propped her inside the cockpit of her plane and continued his onslaught.
Amy couldn’t be still any more. Her hands roamed across his wide shoulders, down his biceps, exploring his hard muscular chest. Ranger used his teeth to tug the strap of her tank to the side and expose her breast. She held him close. The possibility of a tarnished reputation becoming more of an absent thought than a life or death decision.
When he sucked a nipple into his hot mouth, she arched, cried out. He stripped her defenses. Exposed her. He pulled her other strap down and continued to torture her sensitive skin. She didn't try to stop him. She couldn’t.
Heat flooded her thighs, her body a burning mass of need. The entire town could walk in right now and she wouldn’t care. By the time his lips returned to hers, Amy was out of breath and ready to climb on top.
Her hand shot south between them, straight into his boxers and wrapped around his hard length. His girth so big her fingers didn’t touch. She found the moisture beading his tip and he groaned, bucking forward into her palm. A heady sense of power heightened her arousal and she squeezed him harder, wanting to make him lose control.
He growled, the deep rumble of his chest vibrating through her entire body, and ripped open the button on her blue jeans. “You feel so fucking good.” His words were dark and desperate.
“Yes.” Amy thumbed his tip again. He sucked her nipple deep, bit down.
“No, Signor. No, I cannot do this.” A man's voice broke through their silent struggle to rip each other’s clothes off. Amy froze.
Another man's voice, this one more guttural, spoke in a fast stream of Spanish, his anger evident despite the fact she couldn't understand a single word of the foreign language.
“No. Please, I beg you.” Pedro. That was Pedro's voice begging the other man. In her hangar. And she was half naked with Ranger between her legs.
Oh no. Amy shoved Ranger away so quickly she nearly fell out of the cockpit. Ranger turned, caged her behind him. She pushed against him, but she might as well have been pushing a hundred-year-old oak tree.
“Move.” She kept her voice low, almost to a whisper, silently praying the other men wouldn’t see them.
“Quiet.” Ranger held a finger to his lips.
The Spanish stranger spoke again. Amy heard a thump then Pedro answered in Spanish, their speech patterns the only way she could tell them apart. The men were on the other side of the plane.
Rangers ice blue gaze slammed into hers. “We're not finished.”
Amy wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, as if she could wipe away the memory of his touch. As if his taste wasn’t permanently imprinted on her lips. Her hand trembled and she shoved it in her back pocket before he noticed the betraying movement. “Yes, we are. You took advantage of me.”
Had she thought his gaze was hot before? The look of pure menace filling his features caused her to take a step back. He placed a hand on either side of her head, pinning her between him and the plane. His voice was low, but it impacted her just the same. “I didn’t make you shove your hands in my pants.”
The breath expelled from her lungs. He was right. She couldn’t think straight when he got within a half mile. Where was her control? “I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Ranger’s smile disappeared and he slammed a palm flat against her plane. Metal rattled, the entire plane shook beneath his attack. Another screw broke free and clanged to the floor.
“You broke my plane.”
He slapped her plane again. “You can’t break a rust bucket. This piece of shit is barely holding together.” As if to emphasize his point, another piece of her precious plane fell to the ground. The crash seemed louder. Final.
She didn’t even turn to see what broke. “This pile of garbage puts food on the table.”
“Why can’t you do something safe? Wait tables full-time instead of just on the weekends? Get a job as a secretary? That puts food on the table. Hell, if you would let me, I would put food on your table.”
“What, now were going caveman?” She thumped a fist on her chest. “Me caveman, you woman.”
Ranger’s face turned red. “Damn you hard headed woman. Just because I want to take care of you doesn’t make me a Neanderthal.”
She rose up on her toes, nose to nose with him. “No, it just makes you an overbearing chauvinist. In case you missed the past, oh I don’t know, fifty years or so, women can make a living any way they want.”
“Miss Amy?” Pedro walked around the plane, a short stocky man she didn’t recognize right behind him.
Amy shoved past Ranger, needing to put as much physical distance between them as possible and cover her embarrassment at being caught. “Pedro, who's your friend?”
Pedro’s gaze dropped, the brim of his faded red baseball hat hiding his eyes. ““No one, signora. He leave.”
“No hurry, amigo. Introduce me to your boss lady.” The man walked forward, held out his hand. “I am Santos.”
Amy moved to extend hers, and hesitated. Pedro’s fear snaked across the empty space between them, wrapping around her. Warning her.
Hostility rolled off Ranger with all the subtlety of a tidal wave and Amy’s stomach knotted. She trusted Pedro, as much as she would a brother. And although Ranger drove her crazy, she trusted him too. She pulled her hand back at the last minute and let it fall to her side.
Santos dropped his hand, but his dark eyes traveled the length of her body, the lewd look filled her with repulsion. “Be careful, you don't want to piss me off.”
Before Amy could react, Ranger pushed her behind him. His wide stance completely blocking Santos. “Care to repeat that?”
She swallowed, sensing the raw power barely contained inside.
“I see the señorita means much to you. You should be careful with the things you love. They are precious and easily broken.”
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 th
e 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’d 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 wrap 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 un-documented 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 thinking, get the hell out.” Ranger crowded Santos’s space, forced the smaller man back a step. He couldn’t 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’s 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. They 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?”
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 forged 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 goodbyes. 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 hidden 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-wanna-be-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.
Men of Mercy: The Complete Story Page 27