Second-Chance Hero

by Justine Davis

  “Just a little stiff,” she answered.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  That offer was so uncharacteristic of the girl of late that Grace couldn’t help staring at her. Marly flushed, as if she knew exactly what her mother was thinking.

  “No,” Grace said, “but, thank you. Very much.”

  She hoped the girl realized she meant for more than the simple offer. She thought perhaps she did when Marly looked up and gave her a small smile.

  Later, when Marly and Kieren were involved in a video game as if they were both of an age, Grace found herself doing exactly what she’d sworn not to: sitting by the window waiting for Draven to return. And no amount of chiding herself for being an idiotic, moonstruck female helped.

  But then, the average idiotic, moonstruck female wasn’t waiting for a man who might not make it back alive.

  After another hour, when Marly and Kieren had given up on the video game, Grace stood up. She winced once more as her body protested.

  “Mom?”

  Grace made a quick decision. “Would you go in the bathroom and find the aspirin for me?”

  “Sure.”

  The girl hurried off to the bathroom. Grace turned to Kieren. “Where did he go?”

  The young man gave her a startled look. She realized she’d used the tone she used to give orders on a job. But at this point she didn’t care, she just wanted an answer.

  “I don’t know,” Kieren said. Grace stared him down. “I mean it,” he said after a moment. “All he told me was that this was going to end, now, and not to let either one of you out of my sight.”

  “And to call Redstone if he didn’t come back?”

  “Well, yeah, of course, but—”

  He broke off as she turned away and headed for the door.

  “Ms. O’Conner,” he said, leaping to his feet.

  She kept going. Reached for the door handle. Before she could grasp it, Kieren was there, slipping between her and the door.

  “I can’t let you go out,” he said. “Mr. Draven’s orders.”

  “I’m going,” she said. “Your job is to keep my daughter safe.”

  “Both of you,” he said.

  “I’m releasing you from that.”

  “I’m very sorry Ms. O’Conner, but you can’t do that. I answer to Mr. Draven.”

  “But he’s not here.”

  “Doesn’t matter. He’ll expect me to carry his orders out, no matter what. I’m supposed to keep both of you here.”

  “Then you’ve got a problem.”

  Kieren said gently, “No, Ms. O’Conner, I’m afraid you do.”

  “You’ll have to physically stop me.”

  Kieren sighed and said, “Then that’s what I’ll do. Reluctantly, but I will do it.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Draven wouldn’t like it if you hurt the person you’re guarding.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. That’s why he makes sure we’re trained so well nobody gets hurt. But I’d be a lot happier if I didn’t have to worry about it,” he said.

  “Mom?” Marly’s voice came, somewhat muffled, from the bathroom. “I can’t find the aspirin.”

  Grace, who had known perfectly well they weren’t in there but had needed Marly out of the room for a moment, called back to her, “Try the bedroom, then. I think it may be in a drawer. Thanks, honey.”

  Grace, who had never taken her eyes off Kieren, continued to study him for a long silent moment. He returned her gaze levelly, never dodging, never blinking. A solid, steadfast core became evident, and in that moment she revised her earlier opinion. Suddenly she could picture him transforming as Draven had, into something powerful and dangerous.

  “And if I asked you if you’d really fight a woman, and a disabled one at that?”

  It was his turn to study her. And then, softly, he said, “I’d wonder if you were really the woman Mr. Draven told me about. She would never trade on her physical condition.”

  Kieren Buckley, it seemed, was indeed dangerous, and in more ways than one.

  “I believe we have an impasse,” she said.

  “No, ma’am. I believe I’ve won.”

  “Presumptuous of you.”

  “No, Ms. O’Conner. It’s just that Draven is never wrong about people. And there’s no way you’d do something that would get me fired.”

  She gave him a sideways look, and despite her emotional state, he looked so innocently solemn she couldn’t help but smile.

  “You are good, aren’t you?” she said. “Does Redstone have a class in Manipulation 101?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a grin. “Although it’s got a much fancier name.”

  “I’m sure it does. Does your boss teach it?”

  Kieren laughed. “No. He brought in a psychologist, a guy who served with him in the rangers.”

  The memory of what Draven had told her about Josh’s brother flashed through her mind, and she wondered if Draven had seen that psychologist afterward. Her image of how he must have been back then didn’t really fit with that idea. She’d always thought men like army rangers, whose motto, she’d learned, was “Rangers lead the way” because they were the first into any dangerous situation, would think themselves too macho for that kind of help. But perhaps even the army had seen the necessity. Or perhaps she’d just had the wrong idea all along.

  “Got it!” Marly said as she came back into the room, carrying the small bottle. “It was in the top dresser drawer, with your leg powder.”

  She stopped, looking at the two of them, still standing beside the door. Suspicion crossed her face.

  “Thanks,” Grace said again, hoping to divert her.

  “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  So much for that idea, Grace thought. “We were just talking,” she said, giving Kieren a warning glance.

  “About Redstone Security training,” the young man put in.

  Marly looked from one to the other, clearly doubtful.

  “I’m thinking of sending you,” Grace said in an effort at a diverting joke.

  Marly’s eyes widened. “Wow, that would be cool!”

  Not the response she was expecting, Grace thought ruefully. But as a distraction it had worked. She would probably regret the joke, but—

  The door swung open. All three occupants of the motor home spun around.

  Draven was back.

  Grace couldn’t stop herself from looking him up and down. At first she was looking for any sign of injury. But when it was clear he was fine, she found herself staring at this dangerous-looking man and marveling at the fact that just a few hours ago he had been naked in her arms, in her bed…in her.

  Draven’s eyes locked with hers. His expression didn’t change, but the green of his eyes seemed to go hot, as if he’d read her thoughts.

  And as if those thoughts had the same effect on him as they’d had on her.

  “It’s going to be over soon,” he said, still looking at her, and his voice oddly soft.

  “It went well?” Kieren asked.

  Draven never took his eyes off of her. “Well enough,” he said.

  “What went well?” Marly asked. “What did you do?”

  At last he shifted his gaze, and Grace could breathe again.

  “Started a ball rolling,” he said.

  Marly frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “If it works, I’ll tell you. If it doesn’t, I’ll keep my mouth shut and save my pride.”

  Marly gave him a sideways look. “Yeah, right. Like anything you do doesn’t work.”

  Draven lifted a brow at her. She grinned.

  “I’ve been listening to Kieren.”

  It was the young man’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Come on, Marly,” he said. “Let’s get out of here for a while. Been cooped up long enough.”

  The girl approved his suggestion quickly, ran to get her sandals, and they headed outside.

  Draven walked over to the sofa, reached down beside it and pulled up the black duffel bag. He th
en reversed the process she’d seen before, removing the ankle holster and the small gun it contained, then the knife in his boot. The items out of the jacket came next, and then the jacket itself came off.

  He placed it all in the duffel, including the jacket, and zipped it shut. It had to have been warm with even that lightweight jacket, but he showed no sign of sweating. Nor of discomfort. That is, until he tugged his T-shirt out of his waistband as if it were too hot. The movement gave her a glimpse of the flat, hard belly she’d rested her head on this afternoon, and she was flooded with heat all over again.

  Flustered, she repeated Marly’s question. “What did you do?”

  “I told you I was going to put an end to this.”

  “Yes, you did. But how? What did you mean about starting a ball rolling? What ball?”

  “One that should end up at our saboteur.”

  Grace stifled a sigh of annoyance at his vagary. “Exactly what did you do today?”

  “Feeling the need to keep track of me now?” he asked, with a lifted brow that sent a stab of hurt through her. She knew what he meant, that she was presuming on the change in their relationship. The hurt changed swiftly to anger.

  “I feel,” she said stiffly, “the need to know what’s going on with the project I’m responsible for. As project manager, I’m asking to be kept in the loop.”

  “Grace,” he began.

  “What,” she said again, “did you do today?”

  He let out a compressed breath. “Made a deal with the devil.”

  Chapter 20

  He’d really ticked her off, Draven thought. Not that he could blame her. He hadn’t meant to say that, about her keeping track of him; it was simply that he wasn’t used to having to account to anyone. And—somewhat to his surprise—he didn’t even mind that. His question had been mostly curious. But she had obviously taken it as an accusation. And now, he had no idea what to say to alleviate the situation. But he knew he had to try. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he knew it.

  “If you’d said yes, Grace, it would have been all right.” I would have liked it, he added silently, unable yet to go that far aloud. It was hard enough to admit to himself that he liked the idea of this woman wanting to keep track of him.

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, her tone telling him he was still not forgiven. “A simple answer to my question, please? Without veiled references no one but you can understand?”

  He was going to have to tell her, he realized. She did have a right to know, as the project manager. And he realized with a little shock that he’d been trying to protect her by withholding the information. Not that protecting someone, especially one of Redstone’s own, was unusual for him. It was just unusual for him to do it for personal reasons. And he didn’t think he could deny any longer that that was what had happened with Grace.

  And he had a suspicion it had been going on long before now, when he’d finally realized it.

  So, he was going to have to tell her the truth. She had the right to know, and also the need to know, so she didn’t inadvertently get caught up in the long row of dominoes he’d started falling today. Besides, she was going to have to be involved, if only in name as the manager of the project. He had to tell her, and he guessed she wasn’t going to like that, either.

  Might as well get it over with, he thought.

  “I convinced el mercader it was in his best interest to help me stop our saboteur.”

  She stared at him as if he’d spoken in some strange language she’d never heard before. He felt the urge to respond to the look, to explain himself, and in rueful silence he chalked up yet another change.

  “I thought he was our saboteur.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?”

  He didn’t think “Too obvious” was going to fly with her. Nor would “He told me he wasn’t.” Yet all he had beyond that was an instinct from a gut that he didn’t completely trust anymore, and he suspected that would be even less acceptable to her.

  “It’s my job to make those decisions.”

  Her gaze narrowed, as if she sensed he didn’t have a concrete reason to give her. But she let it drop and went on to what obviously bothered her more.

  “So you made the decision and then made a deal with a drug trafficker?”

  “Made a deal with someone who’s got the men and the motivation to do the job.”

  “A drug dealer.”

  “He’s the tool at hand.”

  “The ends justify the means?”

  “In this case.”

  She stared at him. “I can’t believe this. You’re cooperating with a drug dealer?”

  “It’s a matter of priorities.”

  “Priorities? That’s what you call it?”

  “Safety of Redstone personnel is the first priority,” he quoted from the most basic philosophy Redstone was founded on.

  “And dealing with some drug lord is going to guarantee that how?”

  “Grace—”

  “Half the reason I brought Marly out here was because a couple of her friends were getting into drugs! And now you’ve invited someone who deals in that evil right into our midst?”

  “I didn’t invite him to dinner,” Draven pointed out.

  That it was the wrong thing to say took only a split second to realize. And the outraged look she gave him told him this was a losing battle. And he’d already fought it longer than he ever would have with anyone but her.

  “You don’t have to approve, Grace.”

  “I just have to go along? Well, I don’t think so. I’m in charge of this project, and you can just call off whatever sleazy deal you’ve made right now.”

  With a sigh, he turned to the last resort. “Do you know who has the final word on what gets done at Redstone?”

  She frowned. “Josh.”

  He shook his head. “I do. If I tell him no, it doesn’t happen.”

  Her mouth twisted as if she thought he was exaggerating. “You just call Josh and everything comes to a halt?”

  “Yes.” He saw her realize he wasn’t kidding.

  “I suppose you give Josh orders, too?”

  “When it comes to safety, I’m his boss, yes.” He looked at her steadily. “And right now, I’m your boss.”

  She went very still. “So you’re ordering me to go along with this?”

  “If I have to.”

  “Oh, you’ll have to,” Grace said, and he heard the spark of anger in her tone.

  “Consider it done. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

  Grace couldn’t remember when she’d been so angry. She knew a large part of it was that she felt betrayed, by the man she’d trusted enough to take to her bed.

  And that man had turned back into the stoic, laconic, grim-faced man he’d been when he’d first arrived. It wasn’t until now that she realized just how much he’d relaxed since then.

  She told herself she didn’t care, not when he’d truly made that devil’s bargain. Doing anything in cooperation with the kind of slime who had nearly gotten their hooks into her daughter just went against everything she believed in. It did indeed feel like a betrayal.

  She didn’t even look at him as they made their way to the airstrip site, where the paving work had restarted. She didn’t know if she could ever really look at him again. Didn’t know if she wanted to. And now when she thought about that afternoon they’d spent together, she felt only a chilling sense of loss.

  That will teach you, she thought, although she wasn’t sure what exactly the lesson was supposed to be. She told herself to look upon it as a momentary aberration and get on with business.

  One of the crew approached her as soon as she got over to the trucks. “Ms. O’Conner?” one of them said. “Is it true? About Chuck dying?”

  Grace still didn’t look at Draven. She drew in a deep breath. She’d known this was going to be hard, hated having to do it, but she had no choice.

  “I’m afraid so,” she said. “Word came in this mornin
g.”

  “Damn,” the man said.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  He turned and walked back to the rest of the crew, and she could almost see the confirmation spread. Apprehension on faces turned to shock and sorrow, and Grace hated every second of it.

  When, at Draven’s direction, she drove them into town for the mail, she found the news had already traveled. Yvette in the post office window greeted her with condolences, then asked, “Is it true that your company has sent in their own police force, and they’ll be here tomorrow?”

  Grace blinked. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a police force,” she began.

  “No,” Draven agreed, the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the site. “They don’t have to obey the rules the police do. They don’t have to be nice, call you a lawyer or account for any injuries you might sustain. So they’re more effective.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. Grace barely kept hers from doing the same at the way he was exaggerating. At least, she thought he was exaggerating. Perhaps, all things considered, she was being too generous.

  She tried to fight down the bitterness that threatened to well up inside her. Throughout everything she’d managed for the most part not to become bitter, and wasn’t sure why it was so close now. Perhaps because this time it was her own bad judgment that had brought her to this.

  “Is it true they will be here to avenge this death?” Yvette asked, her eyes still wide.

  “We are a family,” Draven said with a shrug, as if that answered the question.

  Grace couldn’t think of a thing to say to him as they left the small grocery and headed down the street. When they made a stop in the general store, Mr. Ayuso also offered his condolences on Chuck’s death.

  “And that girl of yours,” he added to Grace, “she’s all right. Apologized for what she did, and paid me back. She can come back in, if she wants.”

  It was all Grace could do not to look at Draven, the architect of that particular transformation. She didn’t want to look at him, or even think about it, how a man who could do that, who could care enough to think of a way to wake up a child on the edge of trouble, could turn around and make a pact with a drug dealer.