by Zoe Dawson
She didn’t say anything at first, then she gave him a curt nod and they exited the police station, cautiously checking around the area before getting in their sedan.
Once back at the compound, Emma wasn’t happy. She argued some more, then finally gave up and went upstairs.
“Are you sure she’s up to this investigation?” Reyes asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Women can be irrational when it comes to corralling their emotions regarding a family member.”
“She’s my partner, and I stand by her. She’s partly right. Standing around isn’t going to get us any closer to finding her nephew,” Derrick growled.
Reyes tipped his head, his expression thoughtful. “All right, point taken. We can ask around, but it could all come to nothing.”
“I understand. I’ll stay here with Emma.”
Reyes nodded, and he and Velasco left.
Derrick climbed the stairs and at Emma’s door, he knocked.
“Come in.”
When he opened the panel, she was seated on the bed, her phone in her hand.
“I just checked on Lily,” she said, her voice trembling, an edge of anxiety in her tone. “She’s still the same. I’m worried about her.” She raised her eyes to his. “If they killed the kidnapper, what’s to stop them from going after my sister again? She’s a loose end. They have to know that if she recovers, she will never stop looking for her son.”
A twinge of guilt tightened in his gut. He didn’t have to look for his own son. Derrick knew exactly where he was. But he might as well be on the moon. “I think that has merit. I’ll text Austin to be vigilant. We already have guards on her now.”
Emma nodded. “Nothing is guaranteed. We can only do the best we can to protect the ones we love.”
He closed his eyes, reliving that moment when the bullet had whizzed past her head. He wanted her out of here. Back in San Diego, where there was nothing but traffic clogging the expressways, coffee shops on every corner and the grind of everyday life. He wanted her back there, with her family whole and together. He could give that to her. He was alone, had no family, only his ties to his job.
That wasn’t exactly true. He’d struggled with it, but NCIS was his family. But they would understand him putting himself in harm’s way to finish out this case. “Emma. Maybe it would be best if you headed back home. Help from afar.”
She sat up straighter. “Is this because I wanted to go after Luis’s mother right away? You see that as irrational?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or is this about protecting me?”
The tension that had been riding him since the shootout let go in a rush, and he rested his hands on his hips and wearily tipped his head back, long days of exhaustion piling up on him. “My biggest argument against your involvement was about how close you are to this case. We’re in a dangerous position here. We don’t know who we can trust. Maybe not even the good guys.”
With a choked sound, she came up off the bed and into his arms. “Then you need me here to watch your back.”
He gathered her up into a tight hold, roughly tucking her face against the curve of his neck.
“I’m not going to let you cowboy this by yourself.”
Derrick felt her take a deep, tremulous breath, then she pressed her face tighter against him as she slid her arms around his waist. He could feel her trembling—she cared so much—and he pressed a kiss to her temple, then slid his fingers along her scalp, cradling her head in a firm grip.
“I can’t be completely neutral. That’s true. Matty is part of me, my family. I’ve taken care of them for so long, and I don’t intend to give up. It’s worthwhile, isn’t it, Derrick?”
His fingers tangled in her copper hair, soft like satin, and he closed his eyes and hugged her hard, a swell of emotion making his chest tighten. This woman filled him up inside. “Yes,” he whispered gruffly. “It’s worthwhile.”
He felt her take another tremulous breath, and he smoothed one hand across her hips and up her back, molding her tightly against him. Easing in a tight breath of his own, he brushed a kiss against her temple. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said unevenly, drawing her hips flush against him.
A tremor coursed through her, and Emma dragged her arms free and slipped them around his neck, the shift intimately and fully aligning her body against his. Derrick drew in an unsteady breath and angled her head back, making a low, indistinguishable sound as he covered her mouth in a kiss that was raw with desire, governed by a need to comfort and reassure. Emma went still. Then, with a soft exhalation, she clutched at him and yielded to his deep, comforting kiss.
Derrick slid his hand along her jaw, his calloused fingers snagging in her silky strands as he altered the angle of her head. She moved against him, and Derrick shuddered, tightening his hold, a fever of emotion sluicing through him, wishing this woman was his forever.
Dragging his mouth away, he trailed a string of kisses down her neck, then caught her head again and gave her another hot, wet kiss. His breathing ragged, he tightened his hold on her face and drew back, cuddling her against his chest. He held her like that, his hand cupping the back of her neck, until his breathing evened out.
He held her tight, trying to get a grip on the wild clamor rising up inside him. He clenched his jaw and rubbed his cheek against the softness of her hair. She reached for his shirt, undoing the buttons and pushing it off his shoulders, then unbuckling his belt, shoving his pants off his hips. He stepped out of them.
She reached for her own shirt buttons, but he’d already grasped the hem and pulled it off over her head, the bra unsnapped and disappearing, her pants stripped off her. He lifted her onto the bed, then followed her down, dragging her beneath him. He felt as if his heart would explode, as if his lungs would seize up, if he didn’t get inside her, if he didn’t get as close to her as he could possibly get. She made a small, desperate sound and rolled her hips, urging him with her hands. Derrick clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, burying himself deep inside her. So deep and tight.
He locked his arms around her, a shudder coursing through him, and he ground his teeth together, the sensory onslaught nearly ripping him apart, the intensity of the physical connection more important than the sex. They fused into one dynamic whole.
Braced against the mind-shattering sensation, Derrick remained rigid in her arms, waiting for the heated, electrifying rush to ease. Releasing a shaky sigh, he braced his weight on his forearms and bracketed her face in his hands, his heart trapped in his chest as he covered her mouth in a slow, wet, aching kiss.
Emma sobbed into his mouth, her hands clutching at him, and she lifted her hips, rolling her pelvis hard against him. Derrick roughly slid his hand under her head and locked his other arm around her buttocks, working his mouth hungrily against hers as he lifted her higher, then rolled his hips against hers. Emma made a choked sound, and Derrick drank it in, his mind blurring with a red haze when Emma countered his thrust, her body moving convulsively beneath him.
Aware of how desperately she needed this kind of comfort, Derrick dragged his mouth away and gritted his teeth, a fine sheen of sweat dampening his skin as he moved against her, trying to give her the maximum contact, trying to exert the right amount of pressure where she needed it the most, trying to hang on until she came apart in his arms. She made another wild sound, and her counterthrusts turned desperate and erratic, and Derrick tightened his hold. His senses on overdrive, he roughly buried his face against her neck and thrust into her, fighting to go the distance, the red haze governing him.
Emma arched stiffly beneath him, and Derrick’s face contorted with an agony of pleasure as her body convulsed around him, pulling, pulling at him. Then, with a ragged groan, he went rigid in her arms and let go, emptying himself deep inside her. Holding on to her with grasping strength, he held her against him, her face wet against his neck. Feeling as if he had been turned inside out, he pressed his mouth against her temple and closed his eyes, his pulse choppy and erratic, the feelings in
his chest almost too much to handle.
She filled him up and made him feel indestructible.
He drew a deep, shaky breath and pressed another kiss on the corner of her mouth, his touch slow and comforting as he softly stroked the angle of her jaw with his thumb. He braced his weight on one arm and hip, lifting her against him and rolling to his back.
She smelled like flowers and sunshine; he inhaled deeply. Taking another deep breath, he bracketed her face with his hands, shifting his weight so her legs entwined with his.
He tipped her head back and brushed a light kiss against her mouth, the rawness of his feelings for her swamping him.
“I think we have something going here, Gunn,” she whispered against his mouth. “You can’t dispute it. I’m a private investigator after all.”
“Is that so?” he murmured, taking a slow, savoring kiss. He felt her smile against his mouth; then she tightened her arms around his back and slid one hand back and forth across his shoulders.
“Thank you for listening to me, for supporting me. This is so difficult.”
He caressed her wrist, then lowered his head and slowly moistened her bottom lip; he took her mouth again, taking great care to do it well. He released a soft sigh, and she slid her free hand up his torso. “You’ve got some serious gorgeous going on here. Did I tell you that muscle—” she bumped her fingers over his abdomen “—turns me on?”
“Hmm, that’s going to make those sit-ups and workouts much easier, except for the hard-on I might get just thinking about how my body affects you,” he said. Cupping the back of her head, he kissed her, deepening the contact. Emma yielded fully to his questing tongue. Finally, Derrick let go of her wrist and slid his arm under her, holding her with infinite care. After a long and satisfying kiss, he reluctantly drew away, gazing down at her as he caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. He stroked her face, tracing her cheekbones, the arch of her brows, then gave her another quick kiss.
Cradling her head against him, he ran his hand up her naked back, then tucked his head and kissed her brow. “You know I’m on your side, Emma. I want to recover Matty as much as you do.”
“I know that.” She sighed and her hand slipped into his hair. She toyed with a lock for a few minutes. “I need to trust my instincts.” Emma lay still in his arms for a split second, then she went up on one elbow and looked down at him, her hair brushing his jaw as she rose. She stared at him, the light from outside washing across her face and revealing the determination in her expression. A glimmer of urgency appeared in her eyes. “I usually don’t question them, and they’ve never steered me wrong. There are just some things women are better at than men. Dealing with a grieving mother falls into that category. Reyes and Velasco are not only men, but they can’t see how to question her and get answers.”
He stared up at her a moment, then shifted his focus. Avoiding her gaze, he painstakingly hooked his thumb under a thick swath of hair and drew it back, tucking it carefully behind her ear. “How about my manliness?” he asked quietly.
She took a quick breath, closing her eyes. “Potent, but you’re an American male and an investigator. I’ve got the feeling you’d know how to get blood from a stone.” She lightly ran her fingertips along his jaw. Her gaze direct, she stroked along the hair there, and Derrick waited, sensing her urgency. “Trust me, Derrick. If we wait too long, it might be too late.”
Derrick grasped her face and stared into her eyes. “You’re absolutely sure about this?”
She stared right back at him, her eyes hardening. “Completely.” She gazed at him and swallowed hard, looking away, her hand caressing his shoulder, running up and down over the swell of his biceps.
He rose up on his elbow and stared at her, knowing that he was falling for her and not being able to help himself, wondering if, once again, his judgment was skewed. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes here. Was he giving in to her because he was reacting to his own emotions or was her argument sound?
He decided that it was both. He also had good instincts. For some reason, Derrick felt as if he’d just been released out of a tight, dark prison, and he closed his eyes and hugged her hard, feeling as if he could take his first deep breath in his life. He pressed a kiss against her brow, then hugged her again. He trusted her, really trusted her. His chest expanding, he said, “Get dressed. I know where the keys are to the second sedan.”
Her eyes lit up and softened. “But we don’t know where she lives.”
“Leave that to me.”
Derrick reached for his pants and his cell. He texted Austin. Then he got dressed.
Naval Medical Center, San Diego, California
Austin was heading over to the hospital to supervise the additional guards on Lily St. John. It was important for him to make sure Emma’s sister was safe. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He needed to be proactive when dealing with a cartel, especially one as brutal as Los Equis. He was pulling up to a parking spot when he got Derrick’s text. He opened his tablet and accessed the information he’d already compiled on the Montoyas. It wasn’t much; neither the son nor the family had much of an electronic footprint. Luis certainly didn’t show up in any database for any kind of crime, including international. He texted all that information back to Derrick as he exited his vehicle.
He entered the hospital and went up to the ICU. When he got there, he saw that four MPs were there. One at the end of the hall, one inside her room, and two outside.
He entered the room and walked to the bed. She seemed like she was resting peacefully. She was a pretty little thing with soft blond hair, delicate features, her small figure looking so vulnerable in the bed. It made him angry to think that Luis Montoya had planned on killing her instead of shoving her down the stairs. The bruises on her face were fading. Hopefully, they would be gone by the time she woke up.
His cell buzzed, and a passing nurse frowned at him and shook her head. As soon as she was safely past, he answered. “Beck.”
“Austin, I want you back here as soon as possible. Is everything secure there?” Kai’s weary voice came through loud and clear.
Austin rubbed his eyes. He’d caught a twenty-minute catnap about an hour ago. All of them were running on fumes. “Yes, four guards, and Lily is resting well. I can head back now.”
“All right.”
He left the room and walked down the hall. Pushing the button for the elevator, he spied an orderly coming down the hall with a gurney. The guy had the kind of stare that moved people out of the way without words, a sense of presence that made the hair on the back of Austin’s neck rise and prickle. The guy passed him without a glance and turned down the hall that led to ICU and Lily St. John’s room.
He had to adjust the gurney to avoid a wheelchair in the hall, and Austin saw ink on his arm. His heart started to pound when he realized it was a sewn mouth, just like the tattoo on Luis’s arm. Austin reached for his gun and shouted, “You there with the gurney! Stop! NCIS!”
The guy exploded into movement and from beneath the gurney sheets pulled out an automatic weapon. Austin dropped as the man opened fire, the sound of the bullets hitting the elevator doors with metallic thuds.
He turned and took out the hall guard, rushing around the corner of the hallway. Austin scrambled to his feet and rushed down the hall as more automatic fire ripped through the quiet hospital. As he rounded the corner, he saw the gunman and the downed guards. The weapon was pointed directly at Lily St. John, lying prone and totally helpless in her hospital bed.
Austin opened fire and his bullets hit the man in the shoulder and the leg. The gun jerked and the bullets went wild. The guy turned to fire at Austin again, but Austin threw himself out of the line of fire. Without hesitation, he was up again, but the man was gone. With his heart in his throat, he raced toward Lily’s room, breathing a sigh of relief when one of the guards was already up, bleeding from his shoulder.
“She’s alive. Go.”
Austin gave chase
, catching sight of the gunman as he fled through the exit door and into the stairwell. As he hit the door, MPs were racing up the stairs. He heard footsteps above him, then the guy leaned over the railing and a burst of gunfire rained into the stairwell. Everyone took cover.
Austin took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding. He was determined this man wouldn’t get away. When he reached the top, his breathing ragged, he took a few breaths and carefully peered out the door. When he saw nothing, he cautiously stepped onto the roof, several MPs following him. He indicated he was going right, his gun held in front of him in a two-handed grip. He searched the roof until he had to quickly take cover when automatic gunfire erupted just ahead of him. The guy ran and Austin chased him.
But the gunman was trapped between a long fall and four determined men with guns.
“Drop the weapon, get flat on your stomach and interlock your hands.”
“We’ll get to her. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.”
Austin shouted. “Drop the weapon!”
But the guy brought it up and Austin pulled the trigger three times.
The enemy dropped, the gun falling out of his lax fingers.
Austin approached him and kicked the weapon away. He looked down at him and said, “That’s where you’re wrong. You have no idea what we’re capable of, mister.”
His lips thinned and he put in a call to Kai.
Chapter Thirteen
Caliche, Mexico
It was simple for them to grab the car keys, fire up the sedan and leave the compound with no problem. Emma had never experienced anything like what she had with Derrick. She was used to being independent, and no man had supported her like he had so far. Trusting her. She’d proven herself over and over again with clients, her other stints in Mexico, but nothing had ever felt like this. It was an understatement to say Derrick was special. Unique.
Yet there was still something wild about him. Not in the reckless sense of the word, but something nagging at her, making the fear inside her come into play. He was such a loner, had been all his life. There was more of his story he hadn’t shared, a sadness about him when he spoke about Matty, a sense of intent purpose to get the boy back for her and Lily. She was keen on discovering why, but now was not the time to ask him personal questions. They had to be vigilant.