“Never,” Gabe repeated. “I’ll always have your six, buddy.”
All around, the gunfire came to an abrupt halt, a chilling silence spreading out in its wake. Gabe whistled between his teeth and waited, praying….
Five whistles bounced back and he breathed a soft sigh of relief. His men had stopped firing because the tangos were dead, not because they were. Now, as per the plan, they’d rendezvous at the helo.
Quinn slung an arm around his waist. “C’mon.”
He hobbled across the yard with Quinn’s help, met the rest of the team at the edge of the neighboring property, and performed a quick head count as everyone climbed aboard the helo. Yeah, it was very Mother Hen-ish of him, but it made him feel better to know Marcus, Ian, Jean-Luc, Jesse, and Harvard were safe and sound.
Gabe shut the door behind him and circled a finger in the air. “Let’s go.” He moved through the crammed confines of the helo’s belly and crouched down beside Jesse, who was still working over Bryson Van Amee. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s awake,” Jesse said. He had started an IV and squeezed the bag every few seconds, pumping fluid into the drowsy man’s veins.
“Yeah?” Gabe pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Mr. Van Amee, can you hear me?”
Bryson’s brown eyes, so very much like his sister’s, focused blearily on Gabe. “Yes.” His voice was barely a whisper of sound, and hearing him over the rotor was impossible, but Gabe nodded.
“All right. You’re safe now, and someone really wants to talk to you. Audrey,” he called into the phone over the noise of the helo. “Say hi to your brother.”
Chapter Twenty-two
LOS ANGELES, CA
It was over.
The call came in that Bryson Van Amee was safe and headed back to the States as soon as doctors stabilized him, and a cheer rang up from all the federal agents in the room. They high-fived, congratulated each other and Frank Perry like they’d all had a hand in the op that saved Van Amee’s life.
Danny Giancarelli just shook his head and pulled on his coat. He had no doubt Perry the Prick would make sure his face was all over the top media stations today, basking in the glory of the success.
Well, let him.
Gabe Bristow and his men sure didn’t seem like media whores, and all Danny wanted was to spend the final night of his so-called vacation with his wife and kids.
He passed his partner in the foyer.
“Gonna try to make it to the coast?” O’Keane asked.
“Yep.”
“Traffic will be a bitch.”
“Probably.”
O’Keane looked toward the great room, where the other agents were packing up equipment. “Crisis averted. That was something, wasn’t it?”
Danny didn’t bother pretending he had no clue what O’Keane meant. “Yeah. Something.”
“Can’t help but wonder,” he mused. “All those phone calls you made last night? They wouldn’t have had anything to do with this privately funded rescue operation…”
Danny gave him a friendly thump on the back. “See ya Tuesday, buddy.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I figured.” He lowered his voice. “Whatever you did, you saved the man’s life. Good job.” As another agent walked by, he plastered a smile on his face and said normally, “Give Leah and the kids my love.”
Giancarelli stepped outside. The morning air was crisp and cool, the sky a gorgeous cerulean with feather-like wisps of clouds. It promised to be a beautiful day, perfect for stretching out on the beach with his wife while his kids played in the surf. He couldn’t wait.
His mind was already running ahead, a hundred miles down the highway, pulling up to the cabin with his kids squealing in delight at his arrival, and he almost tripped over Chloe Van Amee. She sat on the front steps, hugging herself.
“Whoa, hey. Sorry.”
She blinked up at him, and he’d have to be blind not to see the glazed expression of shock in her dark eyes.
“Mrs. Van Amee, are you okay?”
She nodded, but it was an obvious lie. Sighing inwardly, Danny postponed his trip for another few minutes and dropped to the step beside her. Yes, he wasn’t her biggest fan, and he especially disliked how little she had to do with her sons, but he couldn’t leave her sitting here like this, alone and in shock. He put an arm around her shoulders. She felt tiny and fragile, Barbie meets china doll.
“It’s over, you know?” he said. “Bryson is safe now. He’s coming home to you and your sons in a couple days.”
“I—I know. I know. He’s okay. In the hospital and he’s…okay.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself and raised shaking hands to cover her face. “I just—what about the men that took him? What happened to them? Are they…still out there somewhere?”
“I don’t know. Would you like me to find out?”
She looked at him, studied him with eyes far too world-weary to belong on the face of a selfish, pampered socialite like Chloe Van Amee. “Is it bad of me to hope they’re dead?”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He gave her a light squeeze then stood. “Lemme make some calls, okay?”
BOGOTÁ, COLOMBIA
“We have the final casualty report.”
Gabe turned from the ICU room’s observation window as Quinn approached.
Please
, he thought,
say all ten tangos are dead.
Then he could call Giancarelli with the news and tell Audrey—
Scratch that,
he
would not tell her anything. It was easier on them both if he just faded away now. But he’d make sure the news got to her that it really was over, that the threat was completely neutralized.
If
the threat was neutralized.
He studied Quinn’s impassive expression and swore under his breath. “How many got away?”
“The police reports Harvard hacked into only list nine casualties of the ‘gang fight’. Rorro Salazar’s unaccounted for.”
“No, they have to be wrong. I hit him in the chest. It was a kill shot.”
“They found a Kevlar vest near Jacinto’s body. Bullet still lodged in it.”
“Goddammit.” He looked through the window again. Audrey slept fitfully with her head on Bryson’s bed, his hand gripped in both of hers as if she was afraid to let go of him. “The little shit should be dead.”
“Agreed. The men are packing up to go home, but we can stay a few more days if you want to go after him.”
Tempting.
Very, very tempting.
Except he was exhausted past his limit and so were his men.
And he had to get away from Audrey. The longer he stood here staring at her, the harder it was to leave. He had to put the safe distance of a continent between them before he did something stupid, like beg her to come with him when he knew she wouldn’t.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “No. Everything we have on him says that without Jacinto, he’s not much of a threat. Let’s chalk this up as a win and get the hell out of here.”
Quinn nodded, but hesitated and looked through the window at Audrey and Bryson. “Are you going to say goodbye?”
“No.” Turning away, he fell into step beside Quinn without a backward glance. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, and his chest burned with the pain of it.
It
was
easier this way.
Quinn stayed silent until they reached the parking lot and climbed into the 4Runner. He started the engine, but then sat there, hands on the wheel, gearshift still in park. Then he turned in his seat and opened his mouth as if to say something.
“Don’t.” Gabe shut his eyes, blocking out the concern so evident in his best friend’s usually stoic expression. “What did you do with Cocodrilo?”
Quinn shut his mouth with a click of his teeth, then gave a resigned sigh. “We handed him over to HumInt, Inc. They’ll make sure he’s passed to the right agency for prosecution.”
“Good. Then let’s get outta here.”
Quinn still didn’t shift into drive. “Gabe, man, you can’t leave her like this without—”
“Just drive.”
…
Audrey felt eyes on her and lifted her head. The observation windows across the room were empty, nobody out in the hallway. She must have been dreaming, caught somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, because she swore she’d heard Gabe’s voice just a moment ago.
Unlikely. She hadn’t heard a word from him since he called to tell her Bryson was safe.
Sitting up, she rolled her neck around on her shoulders and tried to stretch the crick out of her spine. Goodness, she needed a real bed and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Then after a good meal and about a gallon of coffee, then maybe she’d have the strength to face Gabe again.
She wasn’t about to let the stupid man push her away out of some misguided sense of honor. What they had was not a fling—she’d had enough flings in her life to know that for sure—and what she felt for him was not a fluke of the circumstances. It was real and deep and, truthfully, a little bit frightening.
Bryson’s hand shifted in hers. She gazed down at him and her eyes filled with tears yet again. Crap. Hadn’t she cried enough today? First out of relief, then out of sorrow when she finally saw Bryson. With his left eye sealed shut, his lips cracked and bleeding, he looked like he’d gone several rounds with a heavy-weight boxer and lost every one. His skin was papery and so pale his veins stood out in stark contrast on his arms and the backs of his hands.
How could they do this to him, a man who never even raised his voice in anger?
His hand shifted again and she realized he was squeezing her fingers. Was he awake? She studied his face. It was hard to tell with everything so swollen, but his one good eye was definitely open.
“Brys?”
“Hi, sis,” he whispered.
If those weren’t the two most beautiful words anyone had ever said to her. She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They poured down her cheeks, soaking into his hospital johnny as she hugged him as tightly as she dared.
His hand settled on her head. “Don’t cry. Please.”
“Sorry. Can’t…stop.” But she managed to choke back the sobs. “I thought I’d never see you again. I thought I’d never be able to tell you I love you and I’m sorry I’m not the sister you want me to be and—”
“Shh. You are, sweetie. I wouldn’t change you for anything.”
“But the condo and the money and my paintings—”
“Audrey, I was wrong about all that. I just wanted you to be happy.”
“I am.” She thought of Gabe and smiled. “Brys, I’ve met someone. One of the men that rescued you. He’s—well, I love him.”
“The big guy out in the hall?”
She sat up, but the hallway was still empty.
Bryson made a sound that might have been a laugh. “He’s not there now. He left, but he stood there for a long time just staring at you.”
“He…left?” She shook her head, eschewing the doubts before they entered her mind. Gabe probably just went to help his men do whatever they did after a mission. Debriefing or whatever. He’d be back. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.
“Does he love you, too?” Bryson asked.
She smiled. “I think so, but he’s being stubborn about it.”
“Hm.” He closed his eye and was silent for a long time. She almost thought he was asleep, but then he asked softly, “Want me to kick his ass for you?”
Audrey laughed at the absurdity of that mental image. “Thank you, Brys, but how about you relax and work on healing first? The doctors say you’ll be okay enough to travel to a hospital in the States tomorrow. Chloe and the boys will be waiting there.”
“My boys.” A tear trickled from his good eye. “I’ve been such an idiot. I kept thinking I’d never see them again and they wouldn’t even remember me as anything but a—a sperm donor. Do you think they’ll forgive me? I’ve missed so much.”
“That’s the great thing about kids.” She tucked the sheet around her brother’s shoulders and leaned over to kiss his bruised forehead. “They’re remarkably better at forgiving and forgetting than adults.”
…
Bone-deep tired, his side aching from the hole in it, heart aching because, God, he really did not want to leave Audrey, Gabe hobbled aboard the plane with Quinn to find his team already there. He’d expected a rowdy celebration with lots of noise and possibly alcohol, but the whole lot sat quiet as churchgoers. They must all be as exhausted as he was. He nodded at them and took his seat, leaned his head back, and shut his eyes.
“Bristow,” Ian said in his usual caustic tone. “There’s something I need to say to you
. Sir.
”
He groaned. “Save it. I’m not in the mood, Reinhardt.”
Clothing rustled behind him, a lot of moving and shifting of bodies. Jesus, what was the guy doing now?
Gabe glanced over his shoulder. Ian stood in the center of the aisle, one arm in a sling, the other raised, his hand forming a blade across his forehead.
As one, the rest of the men stood and saluted.
Gabe looked at Quinn in surprise, but he was also standing.
“Sir,” Ian said without the slightest hint of mockery. And was that…respect…in his dark eyes? “We’re glad to have you back.”
Humbled, flattered, Gabe pushed to his feet and returned their salute. “It’s good to be back. At ease, gentlemen.” When they didn’t lower their hands or sit down, he smiled. “Relax, guys. Hit up the bar in the back. You deserve it. You did good.
We
did good.”
“No, Sir,” Marcus said.
“Our mission’s not over,” Ian said. “With your permission, we’d like to finish it.”
The warehouse, Gabe realized. After everything, they still wanted to get rid of that damn warehouse. Well, why the hell not? “You up for it?”
“Yes, Sir,” they said in resounding unison.
He studied them. Bruised, battered, but not beaten. Never beaten. Pride swelled in his chest. All this time he had wished for his former SEAL teammates when he had a group of men who were just as good, just as loyal, and just as honorable at his command. Maybe even more so.
“All right.” Grabbing his cane, he gimped toward the plane’s door. “Then let’s give the EPC a giant FU and blow that puppy from the map, gentlemen.”
Chapter Twenty-three
A MONTH LATER
WASHINGTON, D.C.
It should be raining. Hell, it should be storming with how wretched Gabe felt, but Mother Nature had blessed the Capital with a gorgeous start to summer. The nice weather served as a stark contrast to his mood and, honestly, kinda pissed him off.
Yet here he stood, barefoot and shirtless on his balcony, watching the sun drop below the city’s horizon, exactly as he had every other night for the past month. Reds, golds, and purples splashed across a sky so pale blue it was almost white—so hopeful, bright, and a little wild. Like one of Audrey’s paintings.
Like Audrey herself.
Gabe squeezed the balcony’s railing so hard his knuckles cracked. Called himself a thousand kinds of fool. He had to stop thinking about her. Had to stop standing out here every night, watching the sunset and pining for what could never be. Had to put her out of his mind and focus on what was important: the team and their training.
A knock sounded at his front door and Gabe forced himself to let go of the railing and go answer it. He made it halfway across the living room before a key rattled in the lock and Quinn stepped inside.
“Hey,” Quinn said and held up a grocery bag. “Brought some Natty Boh.”
Gabe shook his head and about-faced, going back to the window as Quinn headed toward the kitchen with the beer. For a second there as the doorknob turned, he had this stupid notion that Audrey had come to Washington and…
Yeah. Completely stupid. He’d known Quinn was coming over, so why was he so damn disappointed to see him?
“I don’t feel like drinking,” Gabe said.
At the kitchen counter, Quinn paused halfway through opening a second bottle. “You sick?”
“No, I’m not sick.”
“All right.” He popped the cap and tossed it and the bottle opener in the sink, then brought the two beers back to the living room. He held one out. “You look like you could use one. Have you slept since we left Colombia?”
“Of course I have.” Gabe snatched the bottle since Quinn was just stubborn enough to stand there, holding it out to him forever.
“Uh huh,” Quinn said and wandered around the room. “This place smells like a gym locker.”
“Haven’t done laundry.”
“Or dishes. Or shaved. Or showered.” He stopped beside the desk, littered with pizza boxes and empty bottles of beer and water.
Gabe thought he should be embarrassed by the state of his apartment, but couldn’t find the motivation for even that. Maybe he was sick after all. He never used to have a problem motivating himself. “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what, internet stalking?” Quinn said and spun the computer monitor around.
Shit, he’d left Audrey’s website up on the screen.
“I’m checking up on a client.” He crossed to the desk in three strides and swatted Quinn’s hand away from the monitor. When he tried to close out of the site, he found he couldn’t do it. Again. Audrey’s face smiled out at him from the page and he just…couldn’t. He switched off the monitor instead. “That’s all.”
“You miss her,” Quinn said. “You should go see her, talk to her. Who knows? Maybe she’ll even forgive you for being an ass.”
“Wait.” A sneaking suspicion crept through the fog of depression hanging over Gabe’s mind and he narrowed his eyes on his best friend. “Is this an intervention?”
“No. But, c’mon, man.” Quinn encompassed the apartment with a sweep of his arm. “This isn’t you. What the hell?”
Gabe felt a muscle tick under his eye and loosened his clamped jaw. “Can we talk about something else? Like the reason you’re here.”
“Yeah, but you’re gonna listen to me first. I know it’s none of my business, but I have to say this. I’ve known you for twelve years, and in all that time, I’d never have dreamed of calling you a coward. Until now.”
Gabe ground his teeth as the blow hit exactly where Quinn had calculated it to: his pride. He was
not
a coward. “Noted. Now can we get to work? You wanted to talk to me about the team.”
Quinn took a long drink from his beer, then sat on the arm of the couch. “That mission in Colombia could have gone much worse.”
“No shit.”
“We were undertrained, underequipped. We put our team in danger.”
“Yes, I know.” Gabe couldn’t keep the heat out of his tone.
He
had put
his
team in danger, all because he had wanted back into the action. “And I’ve been working around the clock to rectify those problems.”
“When you’re not moping,” Quinn muttered, but then held up his hand. “Sorry. Low blow. I know you’ve been working your ass off here, but there is one problem you haven’t addressed yet.”
Gabe sat down in the chair across from him. “And what’s that?”
“We don’t have enough men.”
“I’ve been looking at dossiers.”
“We need a sniper.”
Hell, no. Gabe saw where this was going and frowned. “I know what you’re thinking, Q. Didn’t I already make that decision?”
“Yeah, but we need a sniper. A good one, at that. Seth Harlan’s one of the best and he wants on the team. He wants a second chance.”
Second chance.
In a flash of understanding, Gabe suddenly knew how the sniper must feel. In fact, hadn’t he felt the exact same way only a month and a half ago as he stood in his parents’ house in his dress whites, dreading his future? HORNET had given him and all of the other guys another shot. What was stopping him from doing the same for Seth Harlan?
What the hell. Not like his team wasn’t a ragtag bunch already. Why not add a potentially traumatized sniper to the mix?
And, speaking of second chances, maybe Quinn was right about other things, too.
Gabe picked up his beer, drained it on one breath, and stood. “All right, I’ll give Harlan a call, but he’s going to be your responsibility, Q.” With that, he strode toward his bedroom. He needed a shower, a shave, and to pack a bag.
“Where are you going?” Quinn called.
Gabe stopped just outside his bedroom door and glanced back at his messy apartment, curling his lip in disgust with himself. Why the hell had he let it get this bad? “I’m not a coward.”
Quinn raised his bottle in salute. “Hooyah.”
DOMINICAL, COSTA RICA
If someone had told Audrey this morning that she’d come home from a lunch meeting with her manager in San Jose to find Gabriel Bristow swimming in her slice of the Pacific, she would have called them crazy.
“Gabe?”
She walked out to the end of the dock, sure she was dreaming. She had to be. He’d starred in her dreams every night and they all began like this. She’d come home to find him begging forgiveness for being a class A asshole, then one of two things would happen. One, she’d yell at him, call him a bunch of creative four-letter words, and then kick him out with the righteousness of a woman scorned. Or two, she’d fall into his arms and make wild, passionate love to him for hours before they lived happily ever after.
It was still a toss-up which dream she liked better.
Maybe she fell asleep on the bus ride home? But she didn’t feel like she was sleeping. This was all too vivid, and as good of an imagination as she had, she didn’t think she could conjure up the feel of the salty ocean breeze playing with her skirt or the hot sun burning her cheeks. Plus, if she was dreaming, the air, soupy with summer humidity, would not be making her dress stick to the sweat rolling down her spine and her hair would not be a frizzy mess right now.
So he really
was
here.
“Gabe?” she said again, so stunned she couldn’t find any other words for a solid five seconds. She shook her head. “What are you doing?”
Treading water, he looked up at her. His hair was slicked back, his long eyelashes spiked around wary golden eyes. “Well, uh, I’m swimming.”
“You came all the way to Costa Rica for that?”
Rata playfully bumped his side, and the smile that spread over his face was so genuine it melted the ice wall she’d tried to build around her heart to ward off his memory. He stroked the dolphin’s head, and then took hold of a rope and ball dog toy she’d never seen before and chucked it into the waves. With a happy chirp, Rata dove after it.
“Had to,” Gabe said. “There are no dolphins in D.C. You promised me a swim with dolphins, woman.”
She choked, caught somewhere between tears and laughter. And here she’d thought he was too out of it to hear anything she said during that long, horrible night. “You remember that?”
“Hmm. Vaguely.”
Her heart did a back flip that would have made her dolphins proud, but she couldn’t bring herself to relive that night and dredge up all the bad memories. Not yet. Not when seeing him again, alive and well and
here
, made her so freaking happy she struggled to hold back tears.
Instead, she took off her sandals, sat down on the end of the dock, and dangled her feet in the water. She watched her dolphins fling their new toy around with so much excitement she feared it might break.
“You brought them a toy.” And if she wasn’t already in love with him, she’d have fallen hard just then. “Thank you for that.”
Gabe swam toward her, strong arms slicing through the waves with ease. Goodness, he was even more graceful in the water than out of it, fast and lithe like her dolphins.
Reaching the dock, he folded his arms on the edge and kept his lower half submerged, but he was definitely sans swim trunks under the water.
“Well,” he said with a mock-serious expression, “this amazing woman I once knew told me—several times—that I needed to learn manners. Apparently, it’s rude to come calling without a gift.”
“Very true.” She smothered a laugh. “Gabriel Bristow, are you skinny dipping?”
“Like I said.” He grabbed hold of her legs and pulled her over until he was propped between her thighs. His hands slid under the skirt of her sundress, kneading her soft flesh. “It’s rude to show up without a gift. The dolphins got the toy. You get me.”
Oh, that did it. The tears she’d been fighting spilled over and she threaded her fingers through his wet hair. “I do, huh?”
“For as long as you’ll have me. I’m in love with you, too, Audrey. Have been practically since minute one.”
“Then why did you walk away?”
And hurt me so badly.
Although she didn’t say that part aloud, it was there, hanging in the air between them, palpable as if she had said it.
“Hell, I don’t know. Stupidity?”
“I won’t argue that.”
“And, uh…” He hesitated and cleared his throat. “And fear.”
Her SEAL, afraid? Somehow, she found that very difficult to believe. “Nothing scares you, sailor.”
“You do. Or what I feel for you does. It makes me raw. Exposed in ways that… God, I can’t even put it into words. I was terrified of keeping you. Terrified of losing you. I, uh, still am.” He lifted a hand to show her the slight tremor in it. “I’ve never been so goddamn frightened in all my life, but I couldn’t stay away. I’ve been miserable.”
Really, she shouldn’t be so petty that his confession made her giddy with a spiteful kind of glee. But she was and it did. He’d been just as miserable this past month as she had, which almost made all the tears she’d spilled over him worth it.
Almost.
But she’d need ice water in her veins to stay mad at him after a confession as sincere and heartfelt as that.
“I tried to find you,” she told him. “When Bryson got out of the hospital, I went to D.C., even attended one of Raffi’s plays in New York, hoping he’d tell me where you were. He wouldn’t, but he did say he’d have a talk with you.”
“
Talk?
” Gabe snorted. “That’s what he called it? Man, he reamed me a new one for walking away from you.”
“Hm. I like Raffi even more now than I did. And I liked him a whole lot before.”
“I knew you would. But it was actually Quinn who gave me the push I needed.”
Audrey didn’t bother hiding her disbelief. “Really?”
“He called me a coward and he was right.” He pulled himself up further to wrap his arms around her waist and laid his head in her lap. “I wanted to come right away, but I had to take care of some business things first. I wanted at least a solid week with you without interruptions.”
God, that sounded like heaven.
“How’s your brother doing?” Gabe asked.
She sighed. “He’s back to normal, throwing himself into work. I suppose I shouldn’t complain. He does make a conscious effort to be there more for his sons. And for me. He even came to my show. But…. I don’t know. After everything, I expected more of a change, I guess.”
“Change is a hard thing to do.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “it is.” And yet Gabe was willing to change his life by letting her into it. Oh God. She was not going to cry again.
Not. Going. To. Cry.
Instead, she forced herself to sound casual as she said, “Raffi mentioned word’s getting out about your team’s success.”
Gabe winced and nuzzled her leg. “I wouldn’t call it a success. We still don’t know who was pulling Jacinto’s strings. No way he came up with the abduction all on his own—he really was an idiot. But the EPC has publicly denied involvement and so have the other guerilla organizations.”
“But you got the bad guys and saved my brother and started making a good reputation for your team. I’d call that a success.”
“Yeah, guess so.” He didn’t sound convinced. “We’ve been flooded with contract offers. Mostly private security gigs, but I haven’t accepted any yet and won’t for a while. The guys are going through some serious training first. They’re all at SERE school right now, except for Quinn. He’s setting up our new office in D.C.”
“SERE school?” She lifted an eyebrow at the relish in his tone. “Do I even want to know?”
“Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training,” he explained.
“Oh, that sounds…horrible.”
“It is. The guys’ll hate every second of it, but it will make them stronger as individuals and a team.”
She poked his side with her index finger. “So why aren’t you there with them?”
“Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, and sure as hell don’t wanna do it again.”
“Says the oh great and fearless leader.”