The Protected (Fbi Psychics) (36 page)

Then he went to his knees, slowly, his hands coming up to cover his face as a sob ripped out of him. Just one . . . that slow, ugly sound coming from the very core of his soul.

She’d known. In her heart, she’d known there were reasons . . . and she’d known it had left a scar on him. Blinking back the tears, she went to him.

Because she asked me to . . . because I had to . . .
She didn’t know if he’d welcome her touch now, but when her fingers brushed across his skin, he reached out, quick as a wish, and hauled her against him, so hard and sudden, it knocked the breath from her.

With his face buried against her neck, he started to speak. “She called me . . . from the village. I already told you that. But Reyes was already after her and caught up with her just minutes after she hung up. She acted like she was trying to run. He didn’t know she’d made the call, and just took her back home. He started to beat her. By the time I got there, he’d beaten her . . . so badly . . . too badly. He’d shattered the bones in her legs, let her know that it was because she had run. He’d broken her ribs. And he did it all while Alejandro watched. The boy had to
watch
as his father tortured his mother, almost to death.” He paused, his chest rising, falling in hard, heavy pants.

She lifted a hand to his cheek and just waited.

“I couldn’t save her.” Stark, haunted eyes lifted to hers and he said it again, “I couldn’t save her. I told myself I could and I even tried to take her out of there, but she wouldn’t let me. She . . .” He looked away, a nerve pulsing in his cheek as he lapsed into a long, heavy silence. “Alex got it from her . . . this . . . whatever he has. I know he did.”

“It runs in families,” she said quietly. “I got it from my dad. It’s in the genes, just like a lot of other shit. The color of your hair, your eyes. This isn’t any different.”

He nodded stiffly. “He got it from her. She . . . she saw things. Sometimes things that had already passed, but it was from long ago. But other times, she saw what
would
happen—the future, I guess. She told me that if I tried to take her, Reyes would catch up with all of us and we would all die, except Alex. There would be nobody there to take care of him. He’d be a prisoner, trapped in that monster’s home, just a tool, forced to do what Reyes wanted and be beaten if he refused. That would have broken him.”

It likely would have. Or maybe Alex would have become a monster like his father. Vaughnne didn’t know which was worst.

“She made me promise,” Gus said quietly. “Before she would say anything, she made me make her a promise . . . there she is, my little sister, in so much pain, begging me to promise her something. And I would have done anything to make it better for her. So she tells me that I have to take care of the boy. I tell her I will. And then she tells me . . .”

His voice hitched. Vaughnne leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek. “You don’t have to do this.”

But he didn’t even seem to hear her. Tears dampened his cheeks as he continued to speak. “She tells me, in vivid detail, what she has seen if I try to take her out of there. She tells me that she will not live through the night, because she is bleeding inside. I don’t know if she knew that or if she just guessed . . . she’d been going to school to be a nurse before she met Reyes. But she believes she is dying, and looking at her, I think she was right, even if I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t let myself believe it. I had to save her. That was all I wanted to do. Save her. Instead, she sends Alex out of the room—I had a man with me. Jimmy Doucet. It was his place we went to in Louisiana. He died a year later . . . cancer took him. He . . .
mierda
. He was the closest thing to a friend I had. But it was just the two of us. A quick job, in and out. He takes Alex out and I have my gun. She takes my hand and points to her head, tells me to kill her.”

* * *

YOU
must promise me . . .

Even now, those words danced through his mind. Horror, pain.

No . . . Consuelo, stop this. You’re coming with us. Now come. It will hurt, but we will be fast.

No . . . you must do this . . .

Then she guided his weapon hand to her head and told him again what she had seen.

He will find us. He kills you first, from outside the hotel. Then, your friend. It’s a nice hotel. You didn’t want me to suffer and you brought a doctor. There are casts on my legs and I cannot even move from the bed when he comes through the door. Alejandro tries to run to me, but before he can, Ignacio grabs him. Then, while my son watches, that monster kills me.

He could still feel the way her hand had brushed his hair back from his face. The way their mother had used to do.

You can save my son, Gustavo. But you cannot save me. I cannot even move. Please . . . you must promise me. Take him, keep him safe. And don’t . . . please don’t let Ignacio hurt me anymore. If he tries to make me talk, I . . .

He’d tried to pull his hand away, horrified at the sight of his gun so close to his sister. She hadn’t let him.

If he finds me alive, he will try to make me talk. And I am not as strong as you. Please, Gustavo. You must protect my son . . . you must do this for me.

“She begged me,” he said softly. “Begged me to kill her. Begged me to keep him from being able to hurt her again. Begged me to protect her son.”

Vaughnne’s hand stroked his neck and he realized absently that he was rocking. She was curled up on his lap. He didn’t even know how that had happened, but it had, and the two of them were rocking, while she held him with soft, strong arms.

“If he’d beaten her that badly, you know she would have slowed you down. If she was bleeding inside, if he had hurt her that bad, it might have been impossible to save her,” she said softly.

He stiffened. “It doesn’t matter. If I’d been faster . . . if I’d killed that bastard sooner. That
cabrón hijo de su puta madre
—if I’d killed him the minute I realized who my sister had married, then none of this would have happened.”

“And Alex wouldn’t exist.”

He closed his eyes as the bitterness of guilt chased through him. Yes . . . that was something else he knew. “I never cared that he was a drug lord,” Gus said softly. “Mexico is overrun with drugs. Many people there worship men like him. They are like folk heroes. There wasn’t much talk about Reyes, because he was careful. Always so careful. I should have paid closer attention, but I was never in the same part of the country, and if you look at a man like him too carefully, people notice. I looked, but I was careful about how I looked and I didn’t look too deeply.

“I was arrogant,” he said, his voice bitter. “I thought I would have known if he was a man that should concern me. I knew all the dirty secrets, and he was greedy and vain, but there were never stories about him being abusive or cruel. But I didn’t look at him hard enough. Consuelo paid for my arrogance.”

Vaughnne stroked a hand down his arm. “She was a grown woman. If she knew what he did, and married him anyway . . . you can’t take responsibility for her choices.”

“Can’t I?” He shifted his eyes to her. “I could have looked deeper, but time and again I pulled back because I feared it would be discovered. That my connection to her would be discovered. That my cover would be blown. My
fucking
cover. I was this rich, foolish playboy. I’d fucked and gambled my way into money, forgotten my family . . . Only the lowest of men do that in Mexico. Family is everything. It was the only way to protect them, though.” He sighed and shrugged, staring off into nothing.

He laughed bitterly. “Looking back now, I don’t know what is worse. If people had noticed there was a connection between us, and if she suffered for that? Or if I had just done exactly what I did. Either way, she would have suffered for it. This way, she died. And no matter what, Alejandro has paid the price. He has lost his mother. Has lost most of his childhood.”

Most
 . . . what a lie. Alex had never
had
a childhood. The boy had been a pawn to his father, and although Consuelo had loved him, tried to protect him, she just hadn’t been strong enough. Not with Reyes in the picture.

But Reyes wasn’t in the picture any longer.

And in a matter of days, perhaps weeks or months even, Gus was going to make sure that anybody who knew about Alex died. It was the last thing he had to do, eliminate those men who had been with Reyes for years. Once he’d hunted those men down, Alex would be safe.

But he couldn’t do that with a child at his side.

It was like cutting off his arm—or cutting out his heart—as he eased Vaughnne off his lap. “The boy has nothing,” he said, keeping his voice flat. “I am his family, but I have never provided him with the security he needs. The stable home. He doesn’t even have the chance to go to school or be a regular boy.
That
is what I want for him.”

Rising to his feet, he bent over and scooped up the document from the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Vaughnne rise.

When he lifted his head, he saw the knowledge burning in her eyes. “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t you do this to that boy.”

“It’s the best thing I can do for him,” he said simply. “You love him. I see it in your eyes. Family isn’t just who you are born to. It’s those you find in your life . . . those who love you. You made him your family when you took him in your heart, Vaughnne. And you can make him happier than I can. He doesn’t have the threat of his father hanging over his head so he doesn’t need a hired killer hovering over his shoulder as he sleeps. He needs somebody to love him, to give him a home. Somebody who understands what he
is
, and how to make certain he gets that training he needs.”

“He needs the people he loves.” Fury made her voice shake.

But he knew he was doing the right thing.

“I’m leaving the documentation you’ll need.” He nodded to an envelope on the nightstand. “You have his birth certificate. Proof of my relationship to his mother, a letter she wrote naming me his guardian. Now I’m naming you.”

“You can’t just
give
him away!” she shouted. “He’s a child. A person, you son of a bitch. He’s got feelings, too, you bastard, and this is going to destroy him.”

“I’ve done nothing but destroy him, destroy his life, bring him pain for the past few years,” Gus said. “I did what I had to because it was necessary to protect him. And that’s what I’m doing now. Protecting him. He needs a real life, Vaughnne. I can’t give him one.” He headed for the door.

“What makes you think
I
should?”

He paused in the doorway, smiling a little. “It won’t be because you
should
. If you did what you
should
, you never would have gone to Mexico. You never would have gone after the men who hurt your sister.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes. I know about that.” He’d learned as much about her as he could in the past few days, calling in favors, bribing, threatening. He had to make sure he was doing the right thing, he’d told himself. In truth, he’d just been hungry for what he could learn of her. For anything about her. “You took leave, just to hunt them down. You don’t always do what you
should
, Agent . . . do you?”

“Obviously, we make a great pair,” she said, her lip curling in disgust. “Except I don’t abandon the kid who loves me.”

He arched a brow. “Exactly. That is why he should be with you . . . he loves you already. Don’t disappoint him as I’ve done so many times.”

TWENTY-FOUR

D
ON
’
T
disappoint him
.

As Taylor guided her down the steps to the TV room in the basement, Vaughnne tried to steady her breathing. Tried to quell the fury still burning in her heart. Yeah. She’d expected anger would carry her through, but she hadn’t expected it to be like
this
.

As she rounded the corner and saw Alex sprawled on his belly, next to a dark-haired girl with a headful of wild curls, she sucked in a deep breath.
Breathe, Vaughnne. You can do this
.

Then, out of spite, she focused her thoughts and reached out.

She knew when she touched a mind. Could always feel it—it wasn’t much different, to her, than touching somebody’s hand, or seeing the way a person reacted when she said their name. She could just . . .
feel
it.

And she felt Gus’s reaction as she said,
I’m getting ready to break this kid’s heart, you son of a bitch. Wherever you are, I hope you’re having fun.

Then, because she was feeling pithy, she added,
Don’t suppose it ever occurred to you to try this with me together? This kid could use two people in his life who love him. We could have both given him a home . . . I would have been happy to have you in my life, Gus. But you’re too much a coward to try it.

She didn’t even have to worry about a response.

That was the beauty, sometimes, of her gift. A curse at other times, but just then, it was welcome. She didn’t want to
see
him, didn’t want to hear from him. Not when she was going to have to break this poor kid.

“Jillian.”

The girl looked up.

The name was familiar, and Vaughnne stilled as the girl sat up and turned around. The teen focused a vivid pair of blue eyes on them.

Jillian. Jillian Morgan.

Shit, the girl was already a borderline legend back at headquarters and she was still in high school.

This was the girl Taige had rescued all those years ago, and if the rumors were true, the kid was already feeding Taylor bits and pieces of information that sometimes led to their cases being solved.

Narrowing her eyes, she focused on Alex and then looked over at Taylor. She never did hear just
how
he’d learned about Alex’s presence in Orlando. She’d assumed it had something to do with Nalini, but standing there, looking at Jillian, she realized she’d been off base.
Way
off base. No wonder he’d been so fucking vague about things.

She told you about him, didn’t she?

Taylor’s only response was a flicker of his lashes.

If she’d been wrong, he would have said so. But he didn’t. Not then. And never once, after that.

Looking back over at the girl, Vaughnne watched as Jillian came to her feet, a diminutive thing, maybe five feet two, at the max. All curls and dimples and big blue eyes. But under the shields Jillian had wrapped around herself, Vaughnne sensed a power that almost made her teeth ache.

“Hi,” Jillian said, smiling at her.

Vaughnne smiled back, although she had to force it. Smiling was the last thing she had inside her just then.

“Jillian, your mom is about ready to go.”

Jillian sighed and looked over at Alex as he sat up. “I’ve gotta go, Alex. I’m going to try and talk them into staying a few more days if I can. But if I can’t, I’ll call you.”

Alex tucked his chin against his chest, his cheeks flushing a dull red. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here. My uncle . . .”

Jillian looked over at Vaughnne.

Too young
, she thought absently. That girl was way too young to have that kind of wisdom in her eyes. Wisdom . . . and sadness.

“It’s okay. I’ll find a way to keep in touch,” Jillian said, bending down to hug the boy’s skinny shoulders.

She was halfway across the floor before he looked up. “Bye, Jillian.” The look in his eyes was one that hit Vaughnne straight in the gut.

Loneliness. Such loneliness. She knew what that was like. She remembered how it had felt, the first time she’d ever really made a friend.

He needs a real life . . .
That was what Gus had told her.

Yeah. The kid needed a real life. Needed friends. Needed a home and stability and structure, and for all that was good and decent, he needed to know how to control the wild gift inside him. But why in the hell couldn’t he do that with Gus in his life?

It was a question she had no answer for, she knew.

But she couldn’t let that get in the way.

She had to focus on Alex now.

Crossing the floor, she sank down in the spot where Jillian had been, watching as Alex continued to play the video game. “You seem to be pretty good at that,” she said softly as Taylor and Jillian left.

“I’m lousy at it,” he said. But there was a bit of a smile on his face. “Jillian is good at it. I could get better. But . . .” Then he shrugged. “Gus will be coming for me soon and we won’t have the money for things like this. It’s fun, though.”

“Actually . . .” She blew out a breath and opened the folder. Gus hadn’t just left the legal documents. Taylor was already doing what he could; he’d started that ball rolling once Vaughnne had talked to him. Still, all in all, this was just a nightmare in the making.

The good news, Alex was underage and hadn’t had any say in what the adults in his life had done. His mother was dead, his father was dead. Taylor would go to the wall to keep the boy from going back to a place where he’d be in danger and the man had a lot of pull, knew a lot of people who owed him favors.

The bad news . . . it was going to be a rough road before this all settled down, and she had to break Alex’s heart.

Withdrawing the letter Gus had written for the boy, she held it out. “He isn’t coming back,” she said gently. “I’m sorry.”

* * *

GUS
didn’t set the house on fire, although part of him wanted to see another piece of that hell go up in flames. These men had known about Alex. He was careful, leaving no sign of himself, and unless the authorities there were very, very good, they’d assume exactly what Gus had wanted them to assume. A card game between two friends, gone very, very wrong.

The last pair had an unfortunate accident while driving.

There were three more who had been in Reyes’s inner circle.

They would be the hardest to track down, though. After this, they would all be more cautious. And the others were smarter, had taken more care.

It was going to be harder, from here on out.

Still, once he had eliminated the final few, he’d . . .

He’d what?

Gus really didn’t know the answer to that.

He stopped on the beach, staring out at the almost painful blue of the Pacific while that question echoed inside him. He’d what?

“Killing your way through Mexico, Gustavo?”

He tensed at the sound of that voice. He had his weapon, tucked under his shirt at his back. But it was a question, really. Could he draw it before the man behind him shot him?

Antonio Moran had made him who he was. What he was. The older man was in his late fifties, but he was still one deadly son of a bitch. Slowly, he turned and eyed the man who’d held his leash for almost fifteen years. Up until Gus had slipped that leash to go rescue his sister.

He’d failed there.

But he wasn’t going back on that leash, either. If he hadn’t been so afraid of the hell he could bring to Consuelo’s door, perhaps he could have saved her
and
Alejandro.

“Nothing to say?”

He just stood there as Moran crossed the sand to stop just a few feet away.

“I’ve got a number of dead bodies that I can track back to you, and you’re just going to stand there and stare at me like you’d rather see me dead than speak,” Moran said, sighing a little.

“There’s not much reason to speak, is there?”

Moran inclined his head. Then he shifted his gaze and looked out over the water. “I am sorry for your sister. For the problems you’ve had these past few years. If you had come to me . . .” He stopped and shrugged. “But there is no reason why you would have.”

“Reyes would have done anything to bring his son home. The man was an abusive monster and he had contacts everywhere. He even had men on your payroll, and we both know it. Now . . . why would I have come to you?”

“I would have protected anybody you brought to me,” Moran said softly. “Surely you know that.”

“I believe you would have
tried
.” Gus did believe that much. “But you cannot control all of those under you, not when you knowingly allow rats to exist under your thumb, just to see what crumbs they’ll leave.”

“I’d never put an innocent child in harm’s way,” Moran said.

Gus laughed humorlessly. “I wasn’t much more than a child when you dragged
me
into this.”

“But you were never innocent.” Moran shrugged as if that made all the difference.

“I’m not coming back,” Gus said. “If that is why you are here, you waste your time. You might as well kill me now.”

Moran made a
tsk
ing sound under his breath. “And here we were, having such a nice conversation. Have I threatened you at all? Insisted that you come back?”

“There is no other reason for you to be here.”

Moran tipped his face back to the sun. “Perhaps I just wanted to see for my own eyes that you were still alive. You stayed hidden for a long time, Gustavo. And you went after a very dangerous man.”

“You made me for just that purpose.”

Silence fell and then Moran nodded. “Yes. Indeed I did.”

He reached into his pocket and held something out.

Gus ignored it.

Moran just let it fall to the sand. “You feared staying close to your family because of the life men like us lead, Gustavo. I can respect that. I understand it. I even pushed you to do just that. But you don’t have to continue this life . . . you got lost in the world once. Do it again,
mi amigo
. Get lost and take care of that boy. Give him a real life.”

Gus bit back his response and stayed where he was, ignoring whatever it was on the sand as he stared out over the water. He could never fully escape the past he had here. It would always find him, he thought. He couldn’t create a new life out of nothing.

Moments passed. He didn’t know how much time passed. He was alone on the beach. Moran had left, leaving behind nothing but a sealed envelope. Scowling, Gus knelt down and tore it open. The letter inside, the documents, all they did was make him scowl. A new birth certificate, a new passport . . . the promise of a new life. What . . . what was this?

A new life. Meaningless, now. Alex was gone. Vaughnne . . .

Mierda
.

Even as he thought of the futile, fanciful impossibility of it, something brushed against his mind. It was faint at first. Then harder, and louder, like something was slamming against his skull—from the inside.

Vaughnne . . . her voice an echo, like it was coming to him through a tunnel. Or maybe over thousands of miles.

I’m getting ready to break this kid’s heart, you son of a bitch. Wherever you are, I hope you’re having fun.

Don’t suppose it ever occurred to you to try this with me together? This kid could use two people in his life who love him. We could have both given him a home . . . I would have been happy to have you in my life, Gus. But you’re too much a coward to try it.

He tensed, holding his breath as he waited for more.

“Vaughnne.” He closed his eyes and whispered her name again.

But she couldn’t hear him. That wasn’t her gift.

And he didn’t have any.

* * *

ALEX
was a quiet shadow at her side as she led him into her apartment.

It wasn’t much.

The second bedroom was mostly used as an office, but she’d already figured that problem out. She could move her desk into her room. It would be cramped, but that wasn’t a problem. The bookshelves would go into the living room. Problem solved.

She flicked on the light and automatically checked the room, wishing she’d sense some dark, quiet shadow hiding in wait.

He’d changed his mind.

He’d realized he was wrong.

Something.

Anything.

But they were alone.

She knew it.

So did Alex.

“He’s not coming back.” It was the first time Alex had spoken in over three hours.

She locked the door and then looked over at him. His eyes, so like his uncle’s, met hers, and the pain there all but broke her heart all over again. She’d known this would happen, she thought absently. The very first time she’d seen that kid, she’d had a feeling he’d break her heart, and she’d been right.

“No, Alex,” she said softly. “I don’t think he is.”

He nodded, his eyes taking on a dull, lost look.

Unable to stop herself, she crossed to him and caught him in her arms.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder as he started to cry. “I’m sorry, kid,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why did he leave?”

Closing her eyes, she wished she could figure out the right way to answer that. But there was no right answer when a boy’s world had just been shattered . . . again. “I think he believes he’s doing the right thing. He’s a smart guy, your uncle. But he’s not very bright sometimes, huh?”

A hard sob shook him. “He left me. He really left me.”

It was a pain that she understood. No, her parents hadn’t left her. They’d thrown her away like she was nothing more than trash.
Worse
 . . . they’d thrown her out, in fear and hatred. Hugging him tighter, she said softly, “I know, Alex. I know. You’ll get through this, I swear. And I can promise you this, as long as God lets me,
I
will be here. I won’t leave you, I won’t throw you out. I’ll be here for you . . . I’ll love you and take care of you and I’ll fight for you and with you. I’m not your mom and I’m not Gus, but I’ll do my best for you, I swear.”

Whether it was the right thing to say or not, she didn’t know.

But it was all she had.