Miguel groans and curses.
“Then just when you were ready to pull the trigger, Cruz broke the news that he had a new assignment for his trusted lieutenant—the transportation and distribution of 12,000 pounds of cocaine. And that’s when you flipped your shit. Six tons of cocaine has a street value of roughly two hundred million dollars—that’s a lot of fucking zeros. Hell, funds like that would bring a windfall to Cruz and crush you and any dream you had of overthrowing the monarchy.
“You had to get rid of it, and fast, but you had to make it look like one of your connections had done the double cross, and who better to be the patsy than Drew Jameson?”
I watch as Agent Jones—one of the FBI guys who was protecting me and Ryder’s friend —comes out of the shadows and closer to where we’re standing.
Ryder continues. “Even when Farrington came around the corner—you could’ve gotten rid of a witness easy enough. You’d already built up corrupt connections you could manipulate within political offices and law enforcement, so when you took her, you figured you’d sell her to the highest bidder and give the money to Cruz. It wouldn’t come close to evening out the deficit, but it would be a show of good faith and buy you time to seize your chance and murder him.
“And, always thinking like the resilient businessman you are, you realized that giving the girl to your Mexican buyer was proof and testimony of your power to not only get rid of witnesses, but to also supply his buyers with beautiful, American women—buyers in places like India, Africa, Egypt and Russia, and I’m sure, some in the States as well. A calling card to telegraph how much easier it would be to transport them using your legitimate shipping companies.”
I flinch at the mention of being sold and the truth that there are still evil people in the world who buy and sell girls and women. It’s not easy to forget how close I came to that horrifying, unimaginable fate.
“You thought you had the deal sealed, but then Farrington confessed that she knew where Jameson hid the drugs. Bet she spilled that info to a couple cartel boys you didn’t want thinking that you could’ve retrieved what you said had been stolen. So you threatened to kill her unless she told you—but you knew she had nothing to tell. Then when she got away, you had to make a grand gesture to display your power and influence and wrap it all up nice and neat.”
Miguel knew all along that I was bluffing about knowing where the drugs were. Oh God, it all makes so much sense now.
Ryder takes a breath. “Pretty good racket—murder, corruption, drugs and human trafficking—you’re the real deal, Eduardo Miguel. Public Enemy #1.”
Miguel writhes in pain as he rages back at Ryder. “You think you are walking away with your lives, but my influence is everywhere. She’ll never be safe, never! I will cut her to pieces while I force you to watch helplessly. I’ll spare you no mercy.”
The promise in his words makes me tremble with fear. I believe him. No matter how far I run, I’ll never be rid of Miguel.
Ryder’s body tenses as his gun fires. The bullet lodges between Miguel’s eyes; his body is thrust backwards and sprawls over the ground.
The crack of the shot startles me, and the sound echoes through the shipyard.
Soul-racking sobs of combined fear and relief quake through my chest. The fissure snakes through my defenses, rupturing my iron-clad will to act brave and tough and defiant.
Ryder brings his arms around me and holds me.
A moment later, our world erupts with sirens and blue and red flashing lights.
Ryder’s strong hand secures my head as he cradles me. “It’s over, Rachel. You’re safe now. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Epilogue
Several years later
Rachel
My day starts like every other: I run the two miles between Makakilo and Kapolei. When I get back to the apartment, I shower and eat a simple breakfast before swinging by and picking up Lemy to bring her to school.
“Have a great day, kiddo. I love you.”
“I . . .”—she slows the speed of her words and deliberately sounds each letter out—“L-ove you . . . Rachel.” Her smile, full of pride, nearly brings me to tears.
She’s come so far. She doesn’t care what the other kids think as she leans into the car for an extra hug and kiss—when you’ve lived through what we have, each touch is a precious gift. After she lets me go, she grasps the straps of her backpack and runs up the ramp to her classroom at the small private school for children with learning disabilities like her. She’s greeted by teachers and parents acting as security and she waves me on my way.
If he hadn’t rescued me from that basement years ago . . . A violent shudder chills my blood and causes my skin to pucker with goosebumps. I don’t want to think about how they would have ended my life.
We’re both alive and together because of Ryder.
As the mere suggestion of him sings like a haunting love song through my mind, my heart yearns sharply for him again. I don’t know where he is in the world, but I hope at this very moment, a memory of me takes his breath away.
Does he think of me every day?
Does he remember me like I do him?
Do the memories halt him in the middle of the day and overtake his every thought, as if he’s reliving it with me all over again?
That’s what they do to me.
I can still feel the sensation of his hand gliding over my exposed collarbone, tingles consuming me as the coarse skin of his fingers continues up under my hair, caressing my throat before he brings his grip around to the nape of my neck and compels me towards his hot, open mouth. His tongue swipes at the seam of my lips, demanding entry. Overcome, I open my mouth and allow him access. Every part of my body burns—on fire with need for his touch, for his perfection.
I lick my lips now at the memory and adjust my pleated summer skirt.
Memories are more than the experiences they’re created from—they are pieces and particles of living souls we carry with us.
And my remembrance of Ryder, I hope, will transcend and follow me even into the next life. I believe my bond to him will make us an everlasting love story . . . the kind where we will search restlessly until we find one another in each life to come.
Our shared recollection must connect us, because I swear I can still feel him.
I’ve memorized his every line, every curve of his muscles, every brush of ink—especially the addition of my name, Rachel, in the loveliest of scripts over his heart.
Joined, united.
I fix my inward gaze to the photo in my mind: Ryder’s crumpled jeans and belt thrown carelessly to the floor in my dorm room, his bulletproof vest on the table, his combat boots by the door.
When I swear I’m breathing his scent, I know this is going to be one of those days—difficult—and I’ll be watching the clock, waiting for the moment I can escape to cry alone.
Is he safe? Is he alive?
A bitter and sweet sensation tangles around me with the recollection of mine and Ryder’s last smoldering kiss, with the rising sun shimmering over the Pacific beside us. The sky was torn in two—one side suspended in the waning darkness dotted with insistent, stubborn stars and a thin sliver of pale moon that refused to say goodbye, while the other was infused with the light of the dawning day, promising to rend us apart and burning too brightly with the inevitable, awaiting reality.
“Promise you’ll think of me.”
“Promise,” my tough guy vowed through a shimmer of tears.
Parking the car in my designated space, I enter the occupational and speech rehab section of the medical facility I work at and am interrupted by a text from my mom—she’s at the store, and before she goes home, she wants to know if I need her to pick something up that she can drop off at my apartment.
I thumb into the keypad while I mumble out loud, “I don’t want anything, but thanks. Tough day starting.”
I set the cell to vibrate. I shouldn’t have pushed send—now she’s going to grill me a
fter work. Maybe she’ll think of getting me a bottle of wine. That I could use.
When everything was said and done, I knew it would be best for the three of us if my mom and Lemy moved here to Oahu with me. My mom even remarried, which I never expected but had hoped for.
I love my job, I think, pushing through the glass door.
After finishing my degree and relocating here to the island, I established a good practice within a preexisting care unit and have created a theater-therapy program, fulfilling a great desire and goal in my life.
My fingers fumble with the light switch on the wall inside my office, and of course, I drop my handbag and keys.
Clumsy moi.
At least the light flickers on as I kneel to the floor and fish them back up. Straightening, I stall, still down on one knee, and my body freezes.
My desk . . . what is on my desk?
The friendly face of a large plush green alligator greets me—his stuffed animal mouth curled into a grin exposing fluffy teeth.
He’s casually guarding a dozen long stemmed red roses with a note attached: You’re wearing my favorite skirt.
My hands fly up to my mouth to stifle a gasp.
Before I can wade through the confusion or settle the excitement of my thrumming heart I hear the girls in the front office start whooping, whistling and catcalling.
I pivot and run through the back hallway. Skidding around the corner, I stop short.
There is Ryder, standing tall and gorgeous in his full officer’s dress blue Navy uniform—medals, stripes and ribbons adorn his thick chest.
Our eyes sear into one another’s souls.
I scream and we sprint towards each other. Throwing myself into his waiting arms, we crash together. His presence fills all my senses, and I’m completely undone as the familiar taste of his mouth overtakes mine. His hands tangle in my hair as he lifts my feet off the floor and my heart to heaven.
“You’re home!” I cry around the softness of his hungry lips and through the tears of our shared joy.
“That’s right, Dr. Axton, and I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”
The fingers of Ryder’s left hand twine with mine, and our titanium wedding bands catch the light.
I haven’t touched him for six of the longest months of my life while he’s been deployed with his SEAL team on a highly classified overseas special ops mission somewhere in the world.
The office is filled with medical personnel, soldiers and patients alike, who award us with a standing ovation and roaring applause.
“I hope you’re prepared to cancel your appointments and take the day off.”
“I’m sure they expect it.”
Ryder flashes that rugged, boyish smile infused with irresistible charm and sizzling masculine sex appeal, and I figure I’m going to need at least a full week off.
“My hero.”
The End
Dear Reader,
I hope you've fallen in love with the Brothers of Ink and Steel as much as I have!
Now, I hope you take the chance to get acquainted with Josh North’s blood brothers in the True North series.
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Allie Juliette Mousseau is a USA Today Bestselling author and writes sexy, emotionally-charged New Adult and Adult romance.
She can always be found writing, playing in puddles with her children, hiking with her husband, and traveling and adventuring anywhere she can.
She believes life should be filled with love, laughter, adventure and forgiveness.
Sometimes she misses the mountains of Montana but is becoming quickly fond of the crashing waves and salty smell of the Pacific Ocean, towering palm trees and long beach walks during sunset at her new home in southern California where she now lives with her loving husband, children, and 85 lb golden retriever.
Author’s Note
The Brothers of Ink and Steel series is interconnected to the True North series
All of the books in either series can be read as standalones.
Of course, I definitely encourage reading every novel in both the
True North and Brothers of Ink and Steel series because
the men are delicious bad boys and the women are sassy bad asses!
TRUE NORTH SERIES
Best reading order:
True North Book 1 Finding Home Livie and Jake
True North Book 2 Finding Us Jules and Nate
True North Book 3 Finding Now Kate and Sam
BROTHERS OF INK AND STEEL
Best reading Order:
DARE
BURN
DARE YOU FOREVER (A Wedding Novella #2.5)
DEFY
Other links for Allie Juliette
Website - www.alliejuliettemousseau.com
Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Allie-Juliette-Mousseau/e/ B00CBIZ52M/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
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