Unlike the rest of them huddled around Luis' infrared, Big Pete stared at the back of the house. "This is a hit house. That's where the drugs are. The transactions are taking place right there." He pointed to the darkened window. "But this isn't a big time dealer. This feels more like a user— who's only selling so he can keep using."
Turning to stare at him, Hank's scratchy voice asked the question they were all thinking. "Now— how the hell do you know that?"
"He doesn't have any heat. No guards. If this was a distributor, he'd have protection— and we wouldn't be standing thirty feet from his stash without getting shot." His gaze still locked on the house, Pete deflected the unspoken question. "Trust me. I know a little about this sort of place."
After twenty minutes observing the drug house's activity, Luis turned off the display. As he carefully tucked it back into the cushioned case, Manuel waited to retrieve his duffel. "We're going inside in ten minutes." Pausing, Luis scanned each face. "And not a damn one of you saw that equipment tonight."
***
"Remember, there might be a gun," Big Pete cautioned. "Jake— as soon as we go in, you call Charlie."
"Why don't I call Charlie now? Before any of us gets shot?" Always the voice of reason, Jake voiced the question they all had.
"And tell them what? That we're breaking into a drug house because we think there might be a kid in there? We have no proof— just suspicion. Do we really want to waste time explaining ourselves to the cops?" Annoyance threading his words, Pete sighed. "Look— one of them is Luz. She's what? Eighty pounds? And she's high. The heat in the corner hasn't moved since we got here. The other one is also high. He's dealin' a little, but he's shooting up with her. He goes back to the corner after each transaction."
Hank nodded. "I'm okay with those odds. And I don't want to get tangled up in a cluster with the cops if this is the wrong house. If this one ain't it, then we need to move on to the next."
"Let's go, already." Adrenaline careening through him, Jeff was at the end of his patience. Acknowledging he was on the losing side of the argument, Jake nodded.
Giving him a quick hug, Jake muttered a 'be careful', before Jeff crept into position at the side of the house. Hank was already in motion toward the back door as Manny ran for the far side of the house.
Nodding to Pete and Luis, Jeff offered up a silent prayer the next ten minutes would prove both fruitful and uneventful. That they'd leave this dreary place without anyone getting hurt and with Hector clutched in his arms. As they moved for the steps, Jeff stopped thinking at all.
Since the door was already open, there was no battering required. The acrid stench that greeted them was nearly overwhelming. Choking over the smell, Luis and Big Pete broke quickly to the right— moving toward the heat sources in the corner. His eyes adjusting to the murky darkness, Jeff launched himself up the stairs. Behind him, he heard Luis shout a confirmation of a female. A moment later, Pete's voice confirmed he'd neutralized the male.
His heart in his throat, Jeff reached the top of the stairs. Disoriented, he moved into the first room he found. The heat source had been in this vicinity. Tiny, cluttered with trash and disposed needles, Jeff repressed a shudder as his flashlight panned over the grungy mattress in the corner. Walking cautiously to the closet, he opened the door slowly. Flicking his light over the empty space, his heart stopped when the light passed over a backpack. A kid's backpack. And a thin cording of twine.
"Hector!" His voice suddenly hoarse, Jeff tried again. Turning on his heel, he moved to the next room. "Hector— buddy— are you here?" Hearing steps on the stairs, he met Luis and Jake as they entered the upstairs hallway.
"Anything?" Jake stuck his head into the trashed space that had once been a small bathroom. "Pete's holding the two downstairs. He recognized the woman from the video. Said it's Luz. But she's too high to tell him anything. She said something about selling a kid-"
Jeff's heart clutched with fear. "His— his backpack is in the closet. But he's not here."
Easing past them, Luis moved into the bedroom. Scooping up the backpack, he checked the contents. "It looks like he may have been tied up." Cursing violently, Luis finally revealed some of the tension he'd been suppressing. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted. "Es Papi. ¿Dónde estás, pequeña?"
"We saw the heat spot," Jeff insisted. "Where the hell is he?"
"No one has come out. Hank would've seen him," Jake reminded, his voice grim. "We keep looking. The cops are on the way."
More afraid now than ever, Jeff nodded. "Is there an attic?"
Aiming his flashlight down the hallway, Jake acknowledged the possibility. "I'll check that."
Where the hell was he? Bolting for the stairs, Jeff headed back down, taking them two at a time. Luz was slouched in a chair in the corner.
"Luz! Where is he?" Not caring that he was shouting at her, Jeff wanted to shake her, but was acutely aware he was hanging by a thread. If he touched her, he might actually hurt her. Her glazed eyes told him she'd barely heard him. One eye blackened, she stared at him, unseeing. Two long scratches covered one malnourished cheek. This was Hector's mother? This starving, pathetic creature was the woman who'd borne the kid who'd taken ownership of his heart?
"Don't waste your time," Pete advised, tugging him away from her. "Just keep looking." He was standing guard over the guy he'd knocked out, in the unlikely event he came to. "She ain't going anywhere."
"Hector?" Shouting as he moved from room to room, Jeff finally approached the kitchen— or what would have been a kitchen if the space had been inhabited by humans instead of animals. Scuffed, discolored linoleum lead to blank spaces where appliances had once sat. Gaping holes in the wall where plumbing had been ripped out. Cabinet doors hanging or missing. The strong musty scent of mildew. Like an automaton, Jeff moved into the small pantry. A single light bulb fixture hung by a forlorn string.
"Hector— where are you, buddy? Please, God— where are you?" Running agitated fingers through his hair, Jeff felt the plunging sense of despair start to overtake him. Where would they search next? Had he left the house? Was he wandering in this god awful neighborhood? In the dark? Hiding somewhere they wouldn't be able to find him? Or worse— where someone else would?
The scratching sound from one of the cabinets made him think of a mouse. But the sudden realization that it was large enough to be a hiding place had Jeff dropping to his knees to throw them open.
"Hector? Are you in here?" Finding nothing in the pantry, he quickly retraced his steps to the kitchen. Jerking open the cupboard under the sink, Jeff froze when he discovered the little boy. A groan of relief was torn from his throat as he pulled Hector into his arms.
"Are you hurt? Did they hurt you, Hec?"
As Jeff's eyes adjusted in the murky room, he groped for his flashlight. With a spurt of fury, he discovered Hector's mouth was bound. As gently as he could, Jeff removed the tape. But his hands shook so badly, he did it with little finesse.
"Ow— that hurts, Jeff."
His eyes blurring, he apologized. "I'm sorry, buddy. I don't want to hurt you."
"It's okay." When his curly head flopped onto his shoulder, Jeff experienced the most powerful sense of relief he'd ever known. Uncertain whether his legs would support him, he sank to the floor with Hector locked in his arms.
"Can you untie me? I got's my feet undone and I ran downstairs to hide. But I couldn't undo the knots."
Startled, he realized Hector's hands were tied together with more of the twine he'd seen upstairs. The bastards had tied him up. Tearing at the knots, Jeff freed him.
Hector wasted no time, throwing himself into Jeff's arms. "I'm glad you're here." A moment later, his head popped up. "Is that Papi yelling upstairs?"
"It's your Papi and uncle Manny," he confirmed, his chest so tight with gratitude, Jeff could hardly breathe. "And Hank and Big Pete and my brother, Jake."
"Why are you cryin', Jeff?"
"It's okay to cry when you're really
scared or really happy. And tonight I've been both."
"Cuz of me?"
"Yeah." Clearing his throat, Jeff yelled for Big Pete to notify the others. Hearing sirens in the distance, he managed a smile. "There are lots of people out looking for you, Hec."
"I maybe cried a little, too," Hector admitted solemnly. "But I did what you told me."
As the rubbery sensation left his legs, Jeff rose to his feet, Hector's arms still locked around his neck. "What's that?"
"I bit . . . and scratched an' punched."
Remembering Luz' black eye and the scratches on her face, Jeff found his first smile of the endlessly long, bleak night. "I'm so proud of you, bud. Good job."
With his free hand, Jeff searched his back pocket for his phone. Dialing Mari's number, he handed the phone to Hector. "Let's tell mommy you're okay."
"Mama? It's me, Hector."
Though the phone was nestled at Hector's ear, Jeff heard Mari shriek, before bursting into tears. He heard the cheering in the background— from countless friends and family— the shelter staff and volunteers still gathered at New Beginnings— waiting anxiously for news.
After several seconds, Hector's eyes flashed concern. "Mama's still cryin', Jeff."
"I know, bud. Just tell her we're coming home."
***
"Damn it." Marisol fought to control her breathing as the panic attack hit. Not again. The last week should have been the happiest time of her life. Luz was in jail. The court, in its wisdom, had finally granted her greatest wish. The custody hearing had been moved forward. After the embarrassment of having to answer uncomfortable questions from the media— about why Hector had been stuck in the foster care system for the past three years. About why his biological mother had been allowed to retain parental rights after she'd tried to sell him-
Sinking into her chair, Mari dragged in shallow breaths. But the sensation of suffocating was so real. And terrifying. It was hard not to be terrified when she wasn't getting enough air. It was as though she'd regressed— back to the days after Nick. Sharon insisted the flashbacks were common after a scare. But knowing that didn't make the attacks any easier.
Now, instead of one giant secret, Mari was keeping two from Jefferson. First— about being beaten up by her boyfriend, and now— despite Hector being almost completely back to normal, she was dissolving into a basket case. How the heck was she supposed to tell Jeff that?
"He already suspects," she whispered. Jeff already sensed something was wrong. Thinking back to the previous night, Mari wanted to weep. Knowing she was troubled, Jeff had asked what he could do to help. He'd rehashed all the good that had come of the incident. When he'd confessed how grateful he was— to have her and Hector, she'd dissolved in tears. And for the hundredth time this week, he’d held her, comforting her.
"That's when you should have told him," she muttered miserably. A few shallow breaths later, Mari felt her heart rate begin to slow. The worst of it was over. This time.
How was she supposed to confess her pathetic fears to a man like Jeff? When he was so capable? So confident. Nothing scared him. He'd saved her child. He'd marched into a known drug house, and he'd found her son. Jeff claimed to love her. But— that was because he viewed her as strong— competent. Normal.
With all her issues starting to resurface— why would he want her now? Remembering her bargain with God, Mari questioned the fairness of unloading her baggage on Jefferson. When he could have someone completely normal. Someone who wasn't full of doubt. Who was strong enough to be his equal.
Letting him go would be the right thing to do. The sharp stab of agony caught Marisol by surprise. It would hurt. But— it would be worse to see his eyes. When he finally realized what she'd become. The admiration in Jeff's eyes would turn to pity. Would he stay then? Would she want him to? Out of some sense of duty instead of love?
She would always remember him. As the one who seemed to get her— who was completely in sync with her. Who knew what she was thinking without having to ask. She'd found The One. Jeff was it. And it had been amazing . . . while it lasted.
As tears streamed down her face, Mari knew what she had to do. She would tell him. Today. Maybe, if she'd met him sooner . . . there never would have been a Nick. She wouldn't be so damaged. And they would have been so unbelievably happy. But the past had a way of catching up when you least expected.
Chapter 13
"Mari, honey . . . what's going on?" Jeff tried to ignore the strum of unease lurking in his chest. She'd been so . . . distant the last few days. At first, he'd attributed it to stress— the overwhelming terror she'd experienced over losing Hector.
She shrugged, her eyes betraying utter confusion. "Jefferson— I've been thinking a lot— and I don't. . . I'm not certain-" Dragging in a shuddering breath, she released it slowly. "I think maybe we should . . . slow things down a little. Maybe take a break."
"Take a-" Though a chill swept over him, he immediately began rationalizing his worry. They'd been through an ordeal. A hellish nightmare that had taken a huge toll on all of them. Perhaps Mari most of all. She'd been jumpy and skittish all week— crying when she thought she was alone.
Hector, on the other hand, seemed almost back to normal. Aside from a few night terrors, and a new desire to sleep with a nightlight, Hector was, for the most part, back to himself. "Mari, I know this has been hard, but— I don't think we need a break."
"With everything that’s happened . . . I think it will be safer to stay focused . . . on Hector. I can’t risk losing him again."
"Luz can never touch him again. Hector is safe, love," Jeff reminded. "We’ve made sure of it."
"I want this adoption to happen and I’m afraid-"
Something was clearly terrifying her. But hell if he knew what it was. He gentled his tone. "What are you afraid of, Marisol?"
"I’m afraid of getting sidetracked. Jeff— I really care about you . . ."
"You love me," he corrected. Her too pale face was dangerously resolute. What the hell was going on?
"But I haven’t been paying attention. Donations are slipping-"
It was as though Mari couldn’t hear him—as though she’d left him and he couldn’t figure out where she’d gone. Sickened, Jeff flashed back to his parents. To the overwhelming sensation he was about to be blindsided. "Am I to blame for that?"
"Of course not," she protested. "But I’m not as focused on my work. We’ve been in this amazing little bubble— you and I. And it’s been wonderful. But this place has been my dream for years and it’s finally happening. When you leave— these people still need me to be focused— to continue to help them.
Leave? His head jerked back. "Who said I was leaving?"
"It’s what you do, Jeff. Why would I be any different?"
"Because I love you?" Frustration flashed through him. What the hell was this about? Gentling his tone when he wanted to push her to see sense, he tried again. "You know I love you, Marisol." Staring at her— through her . . . Jeff tried to read the dialogue in her head— because this sure as hell wasn't about him.
"Since I met you, I haven't looked at another woman. I— I haven't noticed another woman. Because you're it for me, Mari. And — I’m not leaving. But it sounds like . . . maybe you’re leaving me. And you don’t even have the courage to tell me why."
Pacing the room, he dragged agitated fingers through his hair. "What’s the real reason, Marisol? And stop with the bullshit about work, because I’m not buying it. What are you so afraid of? Is this about the adoption? Is this about— a guy?" Dread coiled through him.
"No— yes . . . I mean, there was another guy . . . before you." Distracted, she shook her head, as though even she didn't quite know what was happening. "It ended . . . very badly. It took me a long time to get over it and I don’t want that to happen with us."
"You’re breaking up with me now so— we don’t break up later?" Jeff tried to rein in his mounting desperation. She wasn’t making any sense. This wasn’t Mari
talking.
"I love you Jeff, but I have to think about Hector."
"You don’t think I’m good for Hector?"
"No— you’re wonderful with him. I just think it would be better if we take a break-"
"You're . . . dumping me?" Jeff’s heart stopped— then began thrashing painfully against his ribcage. "Because some other guy treated you badly— you're dumping me? Have I at least got that part right?"
The irony of his words was not lost on him. He'd broken up with dozens of women and never known the slightest bit of guilt. He'd deluded himself into believing they'd always known the score. They'd known he would never get serious. With anyone.
He'd never been the person being dumped. And while he'd never, ever made false promises to women, Jeff had known by the expression in their eyes— for some of them . . . they'd been way more attached to him than he'd ever been to them. He knew exactly what his own expression looked like. Because he'd seen it before— on the faces of women he'd left behind.
Hurt. Confusion. Bitterness. Wondering what they could have done wrong and whether there still might be a way to fix it. He was living it— right now. Marisol had dealt him a body blow.
Now, she would walk away. And Jeff didn't know why. He may never know why. And the pain of that just might prove to be unbearable. "What did he do to you, Mari? What could he possibly have done to make you so-"
Jeff swallowed around the lump in his throat. He was furious. And terrified. Raw, bitter . . . exposed. How could he have done this? He'd finally risked everything. He loved her. In a million different ways.
Marisol was the woman he'd hoped never to find. The one he'd been too afraid to search for. Jeff had known all along— that if he ever found her . . . he would be ruined. He would fall in love and he would never, ever be able to climb out again. Because when she left him— there would be nothing left.
But he'd pursued Mari anyway. He'd risked the pain because he couldn't stay away from her. She had destroyed him for any other woman. And now— she stood before him, ready to toss him aside— like some friggin' afterthought. How could she-
Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) Page 24