Authors: Gwen Hernandez
Tags: #romance, #military romantic suspense, #supsense
He swung around and hit her in the stomach. She gasped for air and fell to her knees.
The SIR leader swiveled back to Flore, but she shut the door and locked it.
Good girl.
Alexa put her palm on the tarmac and commanded her lungs to fill with air.
Frederick slammed his hand against the glass and swore. Then he raised his gun to the window.
She tackled his leg and he stumbled. Her breath came rushing back and she gulped air as she clung to the aging rebel.
He righted himself and lunged toward her, pointing the small handgun at her head. “Get off me,
bouzin
.”
She released him and sat back on her heels, her eyes never leaving the weapon. Somehow she had to get him into Scott’s line of fire.
The SUV’s door flew open, slamming into his side and knocking him off balance. The gun fell to the ground and slid beyond the front wheels. Frederick roared and grabbed for the door, but Flore had already pulled it shut and locked it again.
Alexa scrambled for the gun, but he got his footing first and beat her to it. He scooped it up and struck her across the face with the hard hunk of metal. Following her as she crawled away from the SUV, he raised the gun again. His body jerked once, twice. Frederick staggered and collapsed face down. Rifle reports echoed through the plantation and over the flight line as blood saturated the back of his jacket.
Alexa’s stomach and face throbbed, but she pushed to her feet, racing toward Flore. The girl emerged from the SUV and ran to her. “M’lyssa!” Then she burst into tears.
Holding her close, Alexa shuffled to the front of the car. Ten yards away, Dan lay on his back, his face and hands bloodied.
Was he breathing? Oh, God, she couldn’t tell. One of the men he’d been fighting was running toward the gate that led to the road. The other lay face up on the ground with a knife in his chest.
“Dan?” Her voice came out as barely a whisper.
No answer.
“Come on.” She took Flore’s hand and ran to him.
A truck careened through the gate and screeched to a halt next to the SUV. Flore screamed.
Jason and Scott jumped out and raced toward them.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Those are friends.”
“Is he…?” Jason asked, glancing at Dan.
“Flore, you remember Mr. Jason, right?” Alexa dropped to her knees at Dan’s side, checking his wrist for a pulse. He was breathing, at least. And—thank you, Jesus—he had a regular heartbeat. Lord knew her own was far from steady.
The girl nodded.
“Can you go with him to the truck to get a first aid kit and a blanket?” Alexa didn’t want to let her go, but Flore had already seen too much blood.
Jason held out his hand and Flore took it.
Confident the girl was safe, Alexa ran her hands over Dan’s body, performing a blood check.
“What can I do?” Scott asked. He was calm, but his face showed concern.
“Can you get him on his side for me?” she asked.
Without a word, Scott rolled Dan toward him, straining against the heavier man’s weight. She probably should have asked Jason to help her, but Flore hadn’t met Scott, wouldn’t feel as comfortable with him.
Alexa swiped her hands down Dan’s back and sides. Something warm and sticky stopped her cold. Her heart pounded as she peeled up his black shirt to reveal a three-inch gash across his lower back. She couldn’t tell how deep it was, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore so she didn’t want to probe it.
She worked her way down his legs but found nothing.
“Don’t stop now,” Dan said, his voice rough as if he’d swallowed sand.
“Oh, thank God,” Alexa said. “Don’t move.”
He waved Scott away and pushed to his hands and knees. “Thanks, man. I can take it from here.”
“What are you doing? You have a knife wound.” Dan reached for the spot on his lower left side, but she slapped his hand away. “You’re a paramedic. Act like one.”
“I’d rather let you play nurse.” He gave her a suggestive look.
“Stop,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in it.
Scott rose. “I’m going to guard the gate.” Without waiting for her response, he strode away.
“Now look what you’ve done,” she told Dan.
He gave her a weak smile. “All part of my plan to get you alone.”
She huffed out a laugh and shook her head as Jason and Flore returned. Jason handed her the first aid kit.
“Thanks. Flore, honey, can you fold that blanket and put it down for Mr. Dan’s head?”
The girl nodded and set up the makeshift pillow while Alexa found what she needed in the first aid kit.
“Does he need immediate emergency care?” Jason asked.
“I’ll know in a minute.”
“I’m fine,” Dan snapped.
“We need to do this on the road,” Jason said.
“Give me three minutes,” Alexa said.
Dan shook his head. “We don’t have three minutes. You can look at this”—he waved to his back—“in the truck.”
Alexa gave in. He was right. Maybe it was better not to be here when the police—or more rebels—arrived.
While Jason helped Dan walk to the truck, she and Flore ran ahead and put down blankets in the back. Then she got Flore buckled into the passenger seat of the truck and hugged her tight. “You were so brave today, sweetheart. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I’m proud of you. You handled it like a champ.”
The girl clamped down on Alexa’s shoulders, her little body trembling. “Please don’t leave me again.”
Alexa’s heart cracked. “No, honey. Never.”
Dan made it to the truck, leaning heavily on Jason’s arm, a scowl on his handsome face.
Alexa pulled away from Flore, but gripped her tiny hand. Gesturing to the truck bed, she told Dan, “Lie down in back.”
He grumbled something unintelligible, but crawled onto the blankets and collapsed face down.
“Sweetie,” she said to Flore. “There’s no room for me up front, but I’ll be in the back with Dan, okay? He’s hurt and I need to fix him up.”
Flore’s hold tightened, but she nodded and then released Alexa’s hand.
Jason slid behind the wheel, while Scott took over driving duties on the other truck. Alexa shut Flore’s door and climbed into the bed with Dan. The minute she had the tailgate latched, the truck lurched forward and made a wide turn toward the gate.
Alexa hunkered down against the wind and moved to Dan’s left side. He turned his head to face her.
“Let me look,” she said.
He spread his arms out to the side and lay still while she gently raised his shirt. The truck bounced and jostled her, but she cleaned and bandaged the cut as best she could. He needed a thorough examination, wound irrigation, maybe a tetanus shot, and most certainly stitches.
“You should go to the ER.”
He rolled onto his right side and took her hand, tugging her down until she lay alongside him. “It can wait.” His hazel eyes turned hard and he skimmed his fingertips across her cheekbone, not really touching. “That bastard hurt you.” He held her gaze until her heart flipped over in her chest.
“It’s just a bruise. You’re the one who’s really hurt.” Tears filled her eyes and her throat started to close. “I was so afraid…”
He pulled her into a fierce hug. “I nearly died watching you face down a gun.
Twice
.” He cradled her head in his big, warm palms and kissed her hard. “I’ve never felt more fucking helpless in my life.” His voice was rough and shaky as he tangled his hands in her hair and looked her in the eyes. “Jesus, Lys.”
She opened her mouth to tell him that she loved him. That she was done leaving him.
If he’d have her.
The truck came to a stop and the back window slid open. “Uh, guys?” Jason said. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’re here.”
Despite his protests, Dan now had stitches in his side, and prescription-strength ibuprofen to take the edge off the discomfort and prevent swelling. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was feeling every cut, every bruise.
Alexa had iced her face while she waited with Flore and the guys in the same hospital waiting room where she’d given the girl away to the impostors. Flore had taken it all in stride, swinging her legs while holding an origami swan Scott crafted out of a hospital brochure.
On the way out of the ER at midday, Jason took Dan aside. “We can’t stick around the island much longer. I think it’s best if the police believe Frederick and Nillin did each other in, don’t you?”
Dan nodded.
“What about Flore?” Jason asked.
“Before we leave the island, we’re going to pay an unscheduled visit to Mr. Armeaux. You in?”
“You even have to ask?”
First they rented several rooms at a hotel in downtown Sancoins—one of the few that had reopened after the hurricane—so everyone could shower and change into fresh clothing. Jason and Scott ventured out to buy a sundress for Flore at a nearby store while Dan called Tara for information.
Thirty minutes later—after a quick detour to the man’s office where they learned he hadn’t arrived for work yet—he and Alexa were knocking on the door of Mr. Armeaux’s private residence. The whitewashed, two-story, stucco home with a view of the bay seemed out of reach for a public servant. How many bribes had the man taken?
“Yes?” A plump, young black woman in a conservative gray dress, complete with a white apron, opened the door to reveal an arched foyer painted blue.
“We’d like to speak to Mr. Armeaux, please.”
The woman frowned. “The master is taking no visitors.”
Dan put his hand on the doorjamb and leaned in. “Tell him we have Flore Vincent. He’ll want to see us.”
She pressed her lips together, radiating disapproval, but nodded. She started to shut the door, but he blocked it with his boot. The woman scowled and walked away.
“Good help is so hard to find,” Dan said.
A minute later Armeaux appeared in the doorway, dressed in a dark blue suit and red tie. “Why are you here?”
Dan and Alexa parted to show Flore seated in the truck between Jason and Scott. “We know you sold out to Frederick,” Alexa said. “I’m going to give you a chance to make things right.”
Armeaux inhaled sharply and his eyes widened. Looking behind him, he closed the door and stepped onto the porch. “I cannot help you. Mr. Jeannot has threatened my family.”
“Jeannot is dead,” Dan said.
The man’s eyes turned from frightened to calculating. “And now you want her.”
Alexa nodded. “She truly has no family here, correct?”
Armeaux wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Correct. We found no surviving relatives.”
“Then yes. I want her. And you’re going to make that happen.” She raised her chin.
He cleared his throat. “There are costs—”
Motherfucker. The gall. Dan pushed the man up against the door, his arm across his windpipe, ignoring the tug on his stitches. “You already got your money, asshole. This time you’re setting things right. Got it?”
Armeaux nodded and raised his hands, palms out. “Yes,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Yes. Okay.”
Dan released him.
That was easy.
The man smoothed his jacket and straightened his shoulders. “I will have to go to my office for the paperwork.”
“We’ll follow you.”
Four hours later, they stood in the general aviation building at Hewanorra Airport in St. Lucia waiting for their charter flight to D.C.
Alexa had Flore’s adoption documents tucked into her bag. All she needed now was the U.S. visa, which apparently required another week in Barbados jumping through hoops with the American consular section, despite all of the preliminary groundwork she’d laid.
She and Flore had come inside to say goodbye. They were heading back to Barbados with Caitlyn Brevard once the woman’s plane finished refueling.
Jason emerged from the men’s room and stooped to gather his bags. Dan leaned toward him. “Give me a minute with Alexa, okay?”
The man sent him a knowing look, and nodded. “Hey, Flore. You wanna check out our plane?”
The girl bounced onto her toes—amazing what ample food and water, and a secure future, had done for her demeanor—and turned to Alexa. “May I?”
Alexa smiled. “Of course. I’m going to talk to Mr. Dan and then I’ll come get you.”
“Okay!” Flore skipped alongside Jason and Scott as they strode toward the small, luxury jet.
Dan faced Alexa. “She’s a lucky little girl.” He couldn’t help but touch Alexa’s hair.
For the last time.
His gut clenched. “You’re going to be a great mother.”
“God, I hope so.” She played with her watch for a second and then dropped her arms as if physically forcing herself to stop. “This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, but I don’t see another way.”
“You did what you had to do to save her.”
“But bending the rules to make it happen makes me no better than the black market child traders.”
“Like hell it doesn’t. You protected her at every step. You made sure you’re not taking her away from her family. You know for a fact that there’s no one willing or able to adopt her in her own country.” He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach for Alexa. “You tried to follow the legal process. It’s not your fault St. Isidore is so damn corrupt.”
She held his gaze until his resolve not to touch her began to melt like wax under a flame. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Is your proposal still on the table?” she asked.
His head jerked back. “What?” Had he heard her correctly?
“I realized this morning how badly I want to live, Dan. Really live, not just exist.” She laid her hands on his forearms. “I want to live with
you
.”
“Just like that.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve always wanted to be with you. That’s never changed.” The words rushed from her sweet lips. “The difference is that I’m not going to punish myself anymore. I know it seems sudden, but I promise I’m not going to change my mind. The last thing I want to do is hurt you again.” A tear tracked down her bruised cheek. “I did what you said, you know, asking Despina what she thought. Or, at least I tried to imagine myself in her place. And you were right. I think the only thing she would blame me for is wasting my good fortune with a life half-lived.
“I know I’m springing this on you, and you don’t have to answer me now. There’s a lot to consider. Like Flore. I don’t even know if you’d want to be her dad…” She stepped closer, and he let her take his hands, bringing them together against her breast. “But I love you, Dan. I have since our first week together three years ago.” She kissed his knuckles. “I never stopped.”