Page 15 of Into Hell: Prelude (Holding Cell: Return to the Island)

Y ou’re going back there?” Luciana sat anxiously on the sofa, hands wringing in her lap.

“I have to,” Javier told her. “Shafer is there. He won’t get away with what he did to those kids, to… Pedro. I swore I would hunt him down and make him pay.”

The woman stared at him worriedly.

Javier went to her, sitting beside her on the sofa. He took her hands and pressed them to his lips. “I know I’ve been away a lot these last few months, but it’s almost over. We know where he is, and we have help to bring him down and that operation. When it’s done, I’ll be home for good.”

Luciana touched his face, then kissed him softly. “I worry about you, I can’t help it.”

“I know.” Javier kissed her back, more deeply. “But I’ll be okay.”

“The cowboy… he agreed to help?”

“Yes. He and his friends. All capable men.”

She nodded. “I know,” she whispered. “They saved my son, I’d trust them with my life… and with yours.”

“As you should. They’re good men, strong men. They know what they’re doing, and they’ve been to the island before; they know the layout, the terrain. They’re invaluable to our mission.”

Luciana leaned against him. Javier wrapped his arms around her. It felt good to hold her. He’d been away so much since she crossed the border, they’d hardly had time to focus on their developing relationship… and discuss their feelings that had been simmering for so long now.

Whenever Javier made it home, they would make love.

But there was never much time to really talk before he had to leave again.

Neither had spoken of the incident over a decade ago, when their desires took control and led them down a path they hadn’t planned.

Regardless of what kind of man his brother was—and the fact that he never deserved Luciana—Javier felt ashamed of what he’d done.

He knew Luciana felt shame as well. Because neither of them were those kinds of people.

Maybe they both retained some of that guilt and shame even now. Perhaps that was why, in part, it was so easy to put off talking. To talk about now, they would have to talk about then , as well.

“When are you leaving?” Luciana whispered against his throat.

“A couple of days,” he said. “Maybe three. I got a call from Clint. He wants me to join them when they visit some friends who assisted them during their last mission to the island. He thinks it would be good for me to be there to explain what I witnessed on the island.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll make plans then for when to leave.”

Luciana sighed and pressed against him. “When you come home to stay,” she whispered, “we need to talk… about many things.”

“I know.” He kissed her hair. “And we will. I promise.”

She drew back and looked into his eyes, her love for him emanating, unveiled. “I always loved you ,” she said softly, tracing her fingertips over his lips. “You know that, don’t you?”

Javier swallowed. “I do.”

“I should have never married Carlos. I was never in love with him.”

Javier kissed her. “Things were more complicated then,” he murmured. “Carlos…” He shook his head. “When he wanted something… he took it. If I’d been there, then maybe…”

“No,” Luciana said quietly. “You had your career here in the States.”

“I was going to come back for you,” Javier sighed. “And then…”

“Then I married Carlos.”

Once Javier left Mexico to pursue his career in the FBI, Carlos began manipulating Luciana.

She was young, impressionable, and didn’t understand the ways of the world…

or the ways of some men. Carlos convinced her that Javier had a new life in America and wouldn’t be back, that he would find an educated woman and get married, and forget all about Luciana.

She lived with her father, who was ill, but he saw Carlos for what he was and didn’t want Luciana to be with him.

When her father’s health took a turn for the worse and he passed away, Luciana had no one.

Carlos took control of her life and made her his wife—then dragged her into the dark world of the Cartel.

Javier learned of the marriage—and her father’s passing—upon his return to Mexico.

Carlos had a smugness about him when he informed Javier of his marriage to Luciana and made it clear that the repercussions would be severe if Javier ever attempted to interfere in their union, adding – “Don’t make the same mistake as Lopez. ”

Luciana’s father. Carlos had never confessed, but Javier believed his brother had somehow caused her father’s death, as she would have never married Carlos without her father’s blessing. A blessing he would have never given.

Javier didn’t share his suspicions with Luciana. She didn’t need to know her father may have been murdered by the man she married.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Javier told her. “Carlos is gone, and you’re safe. Pedro is safe.” He held her closer and kissed her softly. “I’ll protect you both with my life.”

Luciana deepened their kiss, then withdrew a fraction, her lips brushing his mouth. “Javier…” She started, then faltered.

“What is it?”

She started to speak again, then shook her head. “It can wait,” she whispered. “We’ll talk when you come home.”

The look in her eyes said it was important, but maybe it was best to wait until after the mission to discuss important things. He nodded. “All right.”

“Are you going with the boss to the barbecue?” Heath James asked.

Sam Renley sat across from the other agent and watched as he cleaned his weapon. “Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

James lifted his eyes and glanced at the younger man. “Nervous about seeing the Egyptian again?”

“Why would I be nervous?”

James shrugged and went back to cleaning his gun. “Something’s going on with you two. And whenever we bring it up, you clam up.”

“Nothing is going on,” Renley said, his voice unconvincing even to himself.

“You two seemed to be getting along fine after the Canada trip.” James glanced at him without lifting his head. “Everything good now?”

Renley sighed. “I told you, there was nothing going on to begin with.”

"Mm," James mused before continuing his task.

“ Mm , what?”

“Nothing.”

“You meant something.”

Releasing a breath, James paused and raised his head.

“We’re FBI agents, Sam. Well… ex- agents, but even so…

we’re trained to see things. And you weren’t exactly discreet about your issues with the gangster.

If it’s a private issue you don’t wish to discuss, fine.

But don’t pretend there isn’t an issue.”

Sam Renley had been trying for months to deny the “issue,” but his friends weren’t blind or stupid. “What’s between him and me… is between him and me.”

“Fine,” James shrugged, and smirked. “Just wanted you to admit there was something.”

Renley was nervous about seeing the Egyptian again.

The last time they talked, he had promised to share his story.

The problem was… he wasn’t so sure he wanted to now.

An unexpected bond of sorts had formed between him and the Egyptian during the Canada job.

The events of the past were far behind them, and it was clear to Renley that the Egyptian wasn’t the same man—the same monster —from back then.

So, you’re just going to “forgive” him for what he did?

That was the question that had been bothering Sam since they parted ways in Canada. And he still didn’t have an answer. Deep down, he knew that the past couldn’t truly be put to rest until it was confronted.

Sam Renley wondered if, after the confrontation, the bond between him and the Egyptian would remain intact.

Tae entered the bedroom and crawled onto the end of the bed, sat cross-legged, and faced John, who was also sitting cross- legged, earbuds in, watching a YouTube video on his tablet. Tae sat in silence, just looking at him.

John slowly raised his eyes and tugged the earbuds from his ear. The look on Tae’s face made him smile a little. “What?”

“You’re coming with us, right?”

“Where?” John’s smile wavered.

“Out to the Base, for the barbecue. It’s gonna be fun.”

“How do you know?”

Tae shrugged. “It sounds fun. Don’t you want to see your friends again? They keep asking about you.”

“They were more Donald’s friends than mine,” John mumbled.

“That’s not true,” Tae countered. “Just because Donald met them first doesn’t mean they aren’t your friends too. You guys met them before I did, and they’re my friends.”

John raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t even met them yet.”

“Yes, I have. Online. We talk all the time. And FaceTime. It’s the same as meeting in person. And we all group chat, Noah and Noel, too. They always ask about you.”

“I know,” John whispered.

“Donald won’t go if you don’t.”

“I know that, too.”

“So…” Tae smiled. “ Are you gonna go?” He leaned forward and smiled sweetly. “ Please?”

“Tae.” Donald walked in and ruffled his hair. “If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to. Don’t pester him.”

Tae tilted his face up to Donald. “But it won’t be as much fun without you guys.”

“You’ll have plenty of fun. Noel will be there.” Donald winked. “You always have fun with your boy. And Noah and Luke. Plus, all the guys at the Base. You probably won’t even notice we’re not there.”

Tae sighed and slid off the bed. “Yes, I will,” he mumbled as he left the bedroom.

Donald smiled at John and shrugged. “He’ll be fine.

They’ll all have fun.” He plopped on the bed beside John and leaned over, looking at the tablet.

“Golfing with Friends, with Markiplier, Wade, Bob, and Sean.” He grinned.

“I love their golfing videos. They get so pissed off at those weird-shaped balls that won’t go in the hole. ” He chuckled. “Hilarious.”

John barely smiled. Donald was putting on a front; he really wanted to the barbecue, but he wouldn’t pressure John… which made John feel like shit. He sighed. “I’ll go.”

“What?”

“I’ll go… to the barbecue,” John murmured. “It’s okay.”

Donald leaned back against the wall and rubbed John’s back. “You don’t have to, John. I’m fine spending the day here, alone with you.” He sat forward and slid his arms around John and kissed the back of his neck. “I love spending time with you.”

When they first returned from the island, John’s trauma caused him to flinch and even recoil at times when Donald tried to hold him.

Over the weeks and months, he became comfortable again with his boyfriend’s hugs and affection, although the thought of making love still triggered some panic.

His therapist, along with Donald and others, assured him that the panic would eventually fade, just as it had with Donald holding him.

John hoped it was true; Donald would never admit it, but not being able to make love to John was taking a toll.

John lived with the fear that Donald would grow tired of waiting and find someone else who wouldn’t make him wait.

He knew the fears were irrational, but he couldn’t put them down. Maybe if he went to the barbecue—even when he really didn’t want to—it would show Donald he was trying.

“No,” John whispered. “It… It’s okay. I’ll go.” He forced a smile. “Maybe I will have fun.”

Donald smiled softly, fully aware that John was doing this for him, and even Tae.

“You will, I promise.” He kissed John gently and threaded his fingers through his hair, pressing his forehead to John's. “I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but you are getting better.” He brushed his thumb along his cheek.

“When I touch and kiss you, it used to trigger panic, but now we do it all the time. You keep focusing on what you’re still struggling with instead of recognizing how much progress you’ve made.

” He kissed him warmly. “And you’ve made a lot of progress. ”

His eyes stinging, John leaned against the other boy. “Sometimes… it doesn’t feel like a lot.”

“I know," Donald kissed his head. “But it is. And don’t ever feel like you have to try and force the progress because..." He held him closer. "... because you think I’m getting impatient. I’m not. When we were on the island, all that mattered was getting you back alive. And I got you back. You’re crazy if you think I’d ever let you go—for any reason. ”