Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

Her abductor had gotten away.

Charlie flinched away from the light shining in her eyes.

“Any headaches, nausea, vomiting, memory problems?” The physician cut the light to her other eye, looking for what, Charlie didn’t know. Piel. That was her name. Dr. Piel. Socorro’s on-call doctor. Though Charlie couldn’t exactly remember coming to this place. The woman’s gloved touch was gentle but probing around her broken nose and split lip.

“Would you judge me if I said yes to all of the above?” The pounding pain at the back of her eyes receded with the light, and Charlie was able to take in the room she’d woken up in. Crisp, clean walls and cabinets but comfortable--looking seating. The hospital bed itself didn’t feel like the one she’d found herself in from time to time when her father’s training had gone too far. Then again, the people of Vaughn relied on a single physician who lived within town and had committed himself to the cause. His idea of a recovery room was his teenage son’s bedroom. A kid Charlie had beaten the crap out of more times than she could count while sparring. Not to mention that place didn’t have anything close to a heart monitor or dimmable lighting. It was meant to be a way station. A temporary stop to make sure she hadn’t sustained permanent damage. This place felt…good. Safe. Though she didn’t know enough about Socorro or the people who worked here to come to that conclusion, she couldn’t deny the sense of security she felt inside these walls.

“Not at all.” The physician took a seat on a rolling stool. Long thin fingers made notes on a tablet resting in Dr. Piel’s lap. Smooth black hair framed pristinely shaped eyebrows and almond-shaped eyes. The doctor was thin though Charlie couldn’t ignore the way her arms filled out the sleeves of her white coat. A physician who worked for the top private military contractor in the country most likely knew how to hold her own in a fight. “I can definitively tell that you’ve sustained a concussion. Most likely from all the times you ran your face into someone’s fist.”

“Just couldn’t seem to help myself.” Though now Charlie was feeling the full effect of those punches. Effects from the car accident too. She tried to shift her weight to sit up straighter, but her hands, hips and legs weren’t too interested in movement.

Dr. Piel smiled. “Don’t worry. It isn’t as severe as it feels. Concussions are something I see a lot of around here. If I was smart, I’d go back to school and shift my specialty to neurology for how many times operatives come in here with head injuries. You just need some rest. The smoke inhalation you suffered caused some lung irritation, but that should clear up in the next twenty-four hours, and as for the bullet graze on your leg, you’ll survive. For now, I need you to stay awake. I’ll be able to reset your nose when the swelling goes down in a couple hours.”

That was when the fun would really start.

“I imagine it’s nonstop around here, considering their line of work.” Charlie focused on the softness of the sheets rather than the fact her clothes had been taken from her.

“Pretty much.” Dr. Piel rolled to a built-in desk on the other side of the room. “You’d think they’d learn their lesson, but they just keep coming back. Concussions, stab wounds, gunshot wounds. I’ve seen it all.”

“What about Granger?” She shouldn’t have asked, but the words had already slipped out, the haze of exhaustion throwing her common sense out the door. “Have you seen him for any of those?”

“That would be covered under doctor-patient confidentiality.” Dr. Piel stood, her expression losing its humor from a minute ago. “But what I can tell you is that Granger and the rest have sustained a lot of wounds doing what they do. It’s admirable really. How hard they fight for the people they care about and some they don’t even know. I’m proud to be the one who helps them keep going.”

Silence seeped between them as Charlie considered her words.

“Try to get some rest.” The good doctor settled a hand on Charlie’s shoulder in an attempt to offer some kind of comfort, but how was she supposed to come to terms with what she’d gone through just a few hours ago? “I’ll bring you something for the pain and try to convince Granger he can wait a little longer before seeing you.”

“He’s out there?” A sliver of need charged through her.

“Has been this entire time.” Dr. Piel turned her tablet toward Charlie to show her the screen. The doctor scrolled through what seemed like a thousand small blue message bubbles. “Keeps messaging me, asking how you’re doing. Do you want to see him?”

“Yes. Please.” Her emotions were starting to show. She couldn’t hide how much she needed Granger in the same room as her. To convince herself this was real. That she’d survived. That this wasn’t some dream.

“I’ll send him in.” Dr. Piel gave her a knowing smile. Quick but warm. She headed for the door, pulling it open. “But I still want you to get some rest. No activities that take a lot of brain power. That means no TV, reading or general merriment in any shape or form. I’ll be right back with that pain medication.”

“Thank you.” And before she was able to sit herself up in expectation of company, he was there.

Every bruise and laceration stood out under the overhead lighting. He looked battle-worn and on the verge of collapse, but Granger had waited outside her room until given the all clear to come in. He’d gone to war for her—up against her father’s men and an entire cartel bent on using her for their own gain—and if he hadn’t pulled her out of that SUV, she would’ve died. “Hi.”

It was all she could manage in the moment, overtaken by the sheer sight of him. It’d been like that the moment they’d met. Having him here when she felt at her lowest was drugging and addictive and a relief.

“Hi.” His voice weighed heavy with exhaustion, but Granger managed to close the distance between them. He angled himself onto the edge of the bed. “What’s the diagnosis? Anything serious?”

“I’ll live.” Because going into detail was bound to send her into a tailspin if she wasn’t careful, and Charlie didn’t want to ruin this moment. She just wanted him. To feel something other than pain, to enjoy the fact they made it through one more day. Together. She brought her hand to his temple, where one of the soldiers from Acker’s Army had clocked him. “How are you?”

“I’ll live.” His laugh rumbled down her hand and into her chest. Granger slid his calloused palm over her fingers, leaning into her touch. “Damn, you feel good.”

“But I probably smell horrible.” The scent of smoke and dirt and gasoline combined into a noxious odor on her skin and in her hair. He had to have sustained brain damage not to pick up on it.

“I don’t mind.” He turned his mouth into her hand and planted a kiss at her wrist. Right where the rope she’d been tied with had scratched her skin. “Nothing about you is as bad as Zeus’s gas after one of his binge-eating episodes.”

Her laugh caught her by surprise and aggravated the bone-deep pain running throughout her body. A piece of her wanted this moment to freeze. She wanted to pretend Sangre por Sangre hadn’t almost killed her, threatened her father and might’ve had something to do with her sister’s death. If it were up to her, she would ignore the pressure in her chest and stretch these precious life-affirming minutes out as long as she could. Because she deserved it. After a decade of isolating herself and looking over her shoulder, she just wanted a few minutes to remind herself she was human. But that wasn’t how she was built. “Did your team find anything at the site of the crash?”

Granger lost the softness at the edges of his eyes. Threading his hand in hers, he dragged her hand into his lap. “Our logistics operative got Fire and Rescue out there to take care of the fire before it spread. Two other members of my team searched the area, but there was no sign of remains once the fire was out. Hard to tell with the rocky terrain, but it looks like whoever abducted you escaped.”

“And they’ll try again.” She couldn’t bury the shudder running from the top of her spine to her toes.

“Hey. You’re safe here.” Gravel seemed to coat every word out of his mouth. “I give you my word the cartel will never lay another hand on you.”

“Except this isn’t your fight, Granger.” No matter how much she needed it to be. No matter how much she needed him at her side. “I came back to figure out who killed my sister. My father has plans to attack the state capitol, and a drug cartel wants to use me to put them back in power. None of this has anything to do with you. I’m the one who has to bring it to an end.”

“Who the hell said you have to do it alone?” he asked.

She didn’t have an answer for that. In truth, she’d simply taken it all upon herself. “You almost died out there in those woods. I just… I don’t want to have to go through the process of losing you all over again.”

It’d hurt too much the first time. She wasn’t sure she could make it through again. If she could tolerate the isolation, the lies she would have to tell, the pain.

“I’m not going anywhere, Charlie.” He stared down at their hands, intertwined. Ash and dirt and blood stained the fabric of his pants, and right then, Charlie understood it to be a perfect representation of their history. “You ran away from me once because you were afraid our relationship meant nothing to me. I’m not the kind of man who makes the same mistake twice.”

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the thin scratched skin along the back. Warmth speared down her arm and tightened her insides. His next kiss was at her forearm. He moved closer, following the length of her arm with his mouth. The coarse hair along his jaw tickled her neck as he buried his face between her shoulder and jaw. And still he didn’t stop.

Until he reached her mouth.

* * *

She tasted just as he remembered. No. Even better.

It almost felt wrong to take advantage of her physical state right now, but the time without her—the past ten years, and the devastating hour during which she’d been taken—was about to destroy him. The only solution was this. This moment. This connection they’d lost themselves in once before. It’d been the only thing that’d grounded him the night of the Alamo pipeline explosion. That’d kept him from losing his mind, and he had the chance to feel that again. With her.

He couldn’t fix what’d gone wrong in their lives. He wanted to. With every cell in his body, he wanted to make it so she wasn’t in pain, so she didn’t have this invisible target on her back. Maybe if he’d followed his gut and reached out the night of the attack, despite their agreement to keep their distance, he could’ve prevented all of this from happening. He could’ve protected her, and she wouldn’t have gone through what she had tonight. She wouldn’t have had to be alone these past ten years.

Instead, they were sharing a desperate kiss he couldn’t seem to break. And she was kissing him back, pulling him deeper into an endless well of need he wasn’t sure they’d ever be able to escape. Damn it, if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want to. Because this, right here, was his version of heaven. Free of fear, free of the weight of loss and loneliness. They deserved this. A small freedom from the terror that waited outside these walls, and suddenly, she was all there was, and Granger never wanted this moment to end, like so many others had.

They’d survived. Together. He’d lived despite every obstacle in their way. For this moment. For this woman. In this room, he no longer felt invincible as he had in the field, but very, very human. Alive. As though he’d just regained feeling that had been lost since the night she’d disappeared. Like he’d been waiting to breathe all this time.

Charlie speared battered hands through his hair, holding him in place, mirroring his need to hold her as close as possible. Her exhale shook through her, uncontrolled, caged. She broke the kiss and set her forehead against his. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” Whatever happened after this didn’t matter. Because this moment was perfect. It was theirs, and nothing in the world could take that from them. They weren’t their pasts. The future didn’t exist yet. He just needed to be here. “You have no idea how much.”

Charlie bit down on her bottom lip then flinched against the pain of the split. “If you feel anything like I do right now, I think I might have some idea.”

A throat cleared from near the door. “Perhaps you should wait before you start undressing each other.” Ivy Bardot stood tall, chin parallel to the floor, as she waited for them to separate.

His chest felt as though it would break apart if he released his hold on Charlie. Granger peeled his hand from her arm, instantly aware of the empty sensation forging through him. He added a bit of distance between them but didn’t bother removing himself from the bed. “You need me?”

“I wouldn’t be interrupting your reunion if this weren’t important.” Socorro’s founder didn’t wait for an answer as she turned on her impossibly high heels and wrenched the door open before stepping into the hallway.

“I’ll be right back.” He needed Charlie to know that. That he wasn’t going anywhere. That he would fight for her all over again. Granger pressed a kiss to her forehead. Though not for her reassurance. For his. Then he followed Ivy out. “I requested twenty-four hours off the clock. Last time I checked, I’m not on duty.”

“Henry Acker isn’t talking,” Ivy said.

“He taught everyone in his backward army to hold up against interrogation. Charlie included.” He nodded through the window looking into Charlie’s recovery room. “From what I understand, he’s damn good at it too. Stands to reason he’d use the same techniques in case of capture.”

“Let me rephrase that.” Ivy turned to face him, seemingly watching for every change in his expression, every unintentional tick. “Henry Acker won’t talk to anyone but his daughter.”

His gut hollowed as the events of the past twelve hours carved through his brain. “Charlie has been through hell because of that man. There’s no way I’m going to make her face him after what she’s gone through. He can sit in the interrogation room as long as it takes to get to him to open up. I’m not putting her recovery at risk.”

“Is that really up to you?” Ivy cut her attention to the window, watching the woman on the other side. “You care about her, that much is clear. But Henry Acker knows details about Sangre por Sangre ’s plans. There’s a chance he’s the only one who knows, and we need that information if we’re going to carry out our mission here.”

“You want me to use her to get to him.” A sick feeling knotted in his gut as the past threatened to overtake the present. Charlie had just come back into his life. He couldn’t risk losing her again. “I did that once, Ivy. I turned her into a CI who started working against the very people who’d raised her, and I lost her for ten years. How can you ask me to do that to her again?”

“I’m not asking you .” Ivy kept her voice even. No emotion. Nothing but logic. “I’m asking her to the make the choice. The same choice you gave her all those years ago.”

“I shouldn’t have recruited her in the first place. If I hadn’t, maybe none of this would be happening now,” he said.

“Or maybe it would, and we wouldn’t have a way to stop this attack. This game we’re playing can’t be won with what-ifs.” Ivy crossed her arms. “I know what you’re thinking, Granger. I know how important she is to you, but you have to remember what’s at stake here. We have nothing but a set of charred blueprints of the state capitol with notes we can’t decipher. Without Henry Acker’s statement concerning the cartel’s motives, we are operating blind. Everything we’ve done these past two years—everyone’s lives that were lost in this fight to bring down the cartel—will be for nothing if we let Sangre por Sangre regain even an inch of ground. We’ve come so close, and I can’t let us lose now. There’s too much at risk. You have your orders.”

Ivy’s footsteps echoed off the black tile mazing through every square foot of this place.

“You mean our source inside the cartel is at risk.” Granger didn’t bother facing her. The click of her heels had stopped. He had never stood up to Socorro’s founder before, but there was a piece of him that knew he could’ve protected Charlie better had he had the guts to stand up to his supervisory agent at Homeland. No one above him would sign off on labeling her as his CI. Too much of a risk. No matter how many times he’d tried to push the paperwork through, they denied him. So he’d done what he’d had to to convince her she was protected, that the government would have her back in case anything went sideways. He’d taken the risk on personally, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. And in the end, he’d failed her. “That’s what this is about for you, isn’t it? Getting him out alive?”

Ivy didn’t have an answer for that.

Granger turned, leaning against the window for support. His entire future seemed to balance on the edge of a blade. Tip one way and he and Charlie could make up the time they’d lost. Could start the life they’d always talked about together. Tip the other and his future with Socorro was secure. He’d continue his role as counterterrorism agent fighting the country’s deadliest drug cartel and keep lives from being destroyed. But he couldn’t have both. Not anymore.

“You didn’t think I would do my own digging when I signed on with Socorro?” He’d done his homework on every operative under the Socorro umbrella. Cash and his determination to hide his brother’s corruption from the DEA, Jocelyn and her drug addiction, Jones with his involvement in bringing down a state senator and Scarlett with her involvement in a military smuggling operation. He’d backed all of them up when they’d needed him, despite their dirty pasts and what had led them here, and now Socorro was going to make him choose between them and a woman he’d sworn to protect? Hell no.

“I know who your inside source is, Ivy. I know what he means to you, and that the only reason you’re fighting this hard for closure is to get him out from under Sangre por Sangre ’s control.” Tendrils of resentment twisted in his chest.

“I would consider the next words out of your mouth very carefully, Morais.” The investigator she’d once been—the one who refused to stop despite direct orders from her superiors, the concerns of her partner and the cost of her family—shifted back into place. “Because the only reason we knew about the cartel’s interest in Charlie Acker is because of that source. Do you really want to put his life at risk for a woman who cost you your job with Homeland Security?”

She was right. If Socorro hadn’t gotten to Charlie first, based off that intel, she’d be dead right now. He had no doubt about that. The fight drained out of him. Whether due to exhaustion or logic, Granger didn’t know. He didn’t care. He just wanted to protect the one thing in this world that made him feel needed. Human. “No. I want to know if you would be willing to ask the same thing of him that you’re asking of Charlie.”

“I already have, Granger.” A softness he wasn’t accustomed to seeing bled into Ivy’s eyes. As though she’d expected a fight and was relieved they hadn’t crossed that line. “The minute we realized Sangre por Sangre was a threat the Pentagon couldn’t ignore, he chose the greater good over a future with me. And I let him. Because I knew a lot of innocent people would die if I didn’t.”

Socorro’s founder walked away.