Page 18

M addox

“What’s the old saying? If something doesn’t kill you, it’ll make you stronger?” Charmaine’s question was likely rhetorical.

“You are already strong,” I told her, which I meant. She was likely the reason we’d made it out of El Salvador without being shot. While the trip to San Pedro Sula had gone without incident, I’d taken back roads, which had added almost three hours to the seven-and-a-half-hour trip.

At least we’d gotten some food along the way, although she’d barely picked at her baleadas , the stuffed tortillas a recommendation given her empty stomach. I’d need to get her to eat to regain her strength.

People often thought hiding out was easy to tolerate. In truth, doing so was as hard on the body as it was on the mind.

“Why don’t I feel that way?”

There was no decent answer to her question.

“Because you’re in shock, but alive.”

Her sigh was heavy, her shoulders slumping.

“Stay away from the windows. I need to check the apartment.”

I closed and locked the door behind us, dropping the bags on the tile floor and immediately heading to the set of doors leading out to a balcony.

Standing off to the side, I peered out onto the busy street below.

While Santiago Barbero had once been a trusted confidant, enough years had passed I certainly couldn’t be one hundred percent certain of his continued loyalty.

At least he’d come through with the use of his apartment. I should say one of them. The man was a millionaire by US standards let alone in a poorer country such as Honduras. The small space was a furnished rental unit and nothing more.

Likely for various ‘friends’ who came into town unexpectedly.

In countries such as the one we were in, men with money were highly sought after by both men and women.

For all aspects of sin and shame.

I’d never grilled him about how he’d amassed his wealth and in turn, he’d provided sanctuary during a time I’d needed it the most.

I moved from one side to the other, keeping my hand on my weapon.

I’d left a message for Gray about the women I’d freed, hoping there was someone on the ground who could pick them up. If only I’d been able to save them.

“Can you open the door? Just a little? I feel like I’m suffocating,” she said from behind me.

I tossed her a look and relented, cracking the door open a couple of inches. Given the building was older, I doubted it had been converted to having air conditioning.

Charmaine was watching me, standing in the center of the small room with her arms crossed.

When it appeared we hadn’t been followed, I partially closed the thin drapes and turned to face her.

The moment dragged on for a full thirty seconds.

“What now?” she asked.

“Now, we sit and wait.”

“For what?”

“For the okay the plane has touched down. Hopefully by tomorrow night.”

She took a scattered breath and slowly glanced around the room. “Quaint.”

“It’s relatively safe. Right now, that’s the most important aspect.”

“What about food?”

I moved around her, heading into the tiny kitchen. Santiago had paid someone to stock the cabinets and refrigerator. A single note was attached to a bottle of local brew.

Saludos, mi amigo.

Compliments, my friend.

One of Santiago’s signatures. I’d always told him if he came to visit in the States, I’d repay him with a case of Krug champagne, the libation far exceeding my budget.

I pulled out a beer almost by habit.

“We should have plenty of rations. There should be at least a couple days’ worth of clothing as well. You’re welcome to take a shower.” That would allow me time to ensure we hadn’t been compromised.

She’d remained mostly quiet during the drive, staring out the windshield of the Blazer. The rush of adrenaline was long gone. She’d sleep for hours.

“It’s hot in here.”

“Yeah, I know. We can open some windows, but the blinds or curtains need to be kept mostly shut. We can turn the fans on too.” I grabbed a second beer and returned to the living room.

As I held it out for her, I wasn’t surprised it took several seconds for her to respond.

Grief and guilt were an explosive combination. I knew it well.

At this point, she was numb. That was needed for protection and for basic emotional survival.

As soon as she took the beer into her hand and our fingers touched like they’d done several times, she sucked in her breath. Against my better judgment, I couldn’t take my eyes off her or the way her long lashes floated across her flushed cheeks.

The fact I was aroused all over again seemed lost on her.

She lifted her head, finally removing her sunglasses, sliding the earpiece under the shirt’s neckline. I could tell she’d been crying although I hadn’t heard her doing so. Her gaze seemed so hollow, so out of sorts where her eyes had been clear before.

Clear and full of venom.

She twisted the cap on the beer, never blinking as she took a sip. Only then did she take a step back, rolling the chilled bottle across her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed and even with filthy hair and a bruise on her face, my cock remained hard as a rock.

Not a single woman had attracted me since moving to Virginia. Not because there weren’t beautiful women in the area, but because I’d focused on business.

Half-truth.

Grueling work kept my mind as well as my body exhausted.

I took a long pull of the cold liquid, finally feeling the heat inside the apartment, but not entirely from the extreme outside temperature.

Fuck.

Keeping my distance from her was in my best interest. The sooner I deposited her safely in Washington, the sooner I could shut another door and return to my life.

The thought weighing heavily on my mind, I pulled the chain on the overhead ceiling fan. At least we could have some circulation.

“Can I at least look outside?” she asked.

“Go for it. Just stay in the shadows.”

She half laughed as if she’d never been forced to stay in anyone’s shadow before. I bet. She was the kind of woman who could walk into a room and not only command attention, but respect.

And she wouldn’t even be trying.

I’d gone out with my share of prima donnas at the request, or I should say demand of my father.

It had been his strong hope that I’d continue making my way up the Navy ladder, serving my time overseas then returning home to marry a beautiful but plastic woman from an affluent family, one that my father was friends with, and spawn an heir.

My dad was always looking for ways to improve his bottom line. It was funny that being around Charmaine had me thinking about various aspects of my past. Over the past few years, that certainly hadn’t served me well.

The single night I’d spent in a Podunk town jail had been a stark wake-up call.

Another story not to be repeated.

I thought about what Gray had told me. Her arrests were public, both occurring over three years before. From what I could tell about her, the years hadn’t tempered her in the least.

Amused, I swallowed more of the beer while she stood to the side of the window, the foot of one leg propped against the thigh of her other, her head leaning against the wall.

The strange silence between us was no longer welcoming.

“How did you get this place?” she asked.

“A buddy of mine.”

“From whatever war you were in.” She wasn’t asking a question. Her eyes seemed glazed over, the woman embroiled in the kind of misery I knew too well.

It would eventually eat her alive.

“Yeah, from the war. He’s trustworthy.” I hadn’t paid attention to the cut on her lip. Both were swollen, a slight spot of dried blood remaining. A strange need to kiss her created a strong desire, which was out of the question. Even if part of the reason was to lick away her pain.

That wasn’t possible. Maybe time would help. Maybe it would cause the mental anguish to fester. That was entirely up to her and not something I could do a damn thing about.

“Okay.”

I noticed she was fiddling with the bottle in her hand, digging at the label with a single nail. The aimless action was a way of allowing her control.

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, far too adamantly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Charmaine. In fact, you did what you thought was right.”

“Someone will need to explain the meaning of doing something right to me at some point. I tried. That much I know. I felt utter conviction and thought I was capable of keeping us out of danger.”

“How?”

Her laugh was bitter. “Because of my fabulous reputation. I’m certain you discovered the kind of person I was, or I guess I should say I am, being a thorough man and all, but I’m certain you barely dipped your toe into the icy water.

I’ve been doing nothing but chasing rainbows.

Toss in a few unicorns. My belief in right versus wrong was my sword and you bet I wielded it with honor, not only willing but eager to die by it if necessary.

” She turned her head, remaining in the same position.

“I was the one rescued by a big, strapping SEAL while my friends were the ones who died on the sharp blade. For that, I’ll never forgive myself. ”

As she walked by me, heading toward the single hallway, her shoulders remained back, but her expression was one I knew far too well.

She was dead inside.

I headed to the exact place where she’d been standing. It wasn’t a club I’d wish anyone to join, no matter how heinous their crimes were.

Charmaine

I wiped my hand across the steam covering the small mirror and stared at my foggy reflection.

The tiny room was sweltering, but the hot shower had allowed me to wash away the grime and…

blood. I’d noticed Maddox had cleaned some grime off my skin, but there were specks everywhere including in my hair.