Winters Heat (Titan) (17 page)

Mia knew he wore his Glock tucked into a holster under his shirt and saw the tactical knife secured against his calf. Both weapons were secure and safe from the curious reach of the baby.

He burped Clara, his huge hand spanning the width of the sleeping baby, and left the kitchen. As he bounded into the kitchen again, he flipped on the switch for the baby monitor sitting on the counter. Mia listened to the last few notes of the mobile play a lullaby as he waved good-bye to her and his mom, grabbed his keys, and walked toward the garage door.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Titan headquarters was a fortress, a high-tech lair with Fort Knox-like security. It was cold. Impenetrable. His home away from home.

Winters stared over Parker’s shoulder at the wall of flat screens. Computer systems that NASA could only dream about continually scoured through data and satellite images like electronic wallpaper. Ones and zeroes danced a techie tango. High-resolution topography shuffled from one covert location to the next. The hub monitored their operations around the world. Teams he didn’t know, but would go through hell to assist, were mere blips on an observation screen and surrounded by all the intel that could possibly help.

“Where’s Jared?” Winters ran his hand over the smooth war room table. Many a high stakes battle plan had been drawn there.

Parker didn’t look from his wall of screens. “Most likely thinking of ways to torture people.”

If Jared developed new techniques, Winters would love to try them on the fuckers chasing Mia. He’d try anything, experimental or not, if it meant a slow and painful demise.

“We need a plan of action. Otherwise, I’m just going to start picking off anyone I don’t know. Titan’s legal bill will spiral into the cataclysmic category.”

Parker spun in his swivel chair to face him. “You’re not going to like this, but I’ll bet my Ducati for your new WaveRunner, he’ll want to use Mia as bait.”

“No. We’ve already been down that road, and I’m not doing it again. We can use the NOC list as bait. We can use me as bait. I’ll string that bike up like a piece of NOC list meat. But Mia is a no go.”

“Whoever these guys are, they’ll follow her. She’s the easy target.”

“You’d think with all of your damn brains and Jared’s ‘been there, done everything’ attitude, you two could come up with something more original.” Winters picked at his nail with his keys. “Shit. Easy target. I don’t want to hear it.”

“That’s a lot of whining, Winters. Bring it up with Jared when you see him. You might as well grab some grub, I’m not going to be done for a few hours.” Parker put his earbuds in and turned back to the screen.

“Would’ve been nice if Jared mentioned that when he said to get my ass to work.” Winters spun on his heels and hurried to his vehicle. He couldn’t get home fast enough.

***

Juan Carlos Silva rang Diego’s phone all morning. No answer. Several possibilities crawled through his mind. The two most promising excuses were death or prison. Death was preferable. If Diego were incarcerated in an American prison, Juan Carlos would have to kill him later.

Juan Carlos ran a hand over his smooth cheeks. He was so close to that list and that woman. How he wanted her now. A prize for his troubles. A bonus for the headache this American jaunt had caused him.

It wasn’t as if he assigned an underling. He sent a capable, lethal man. Diego had never disappointed before. He’d never needed punishment, encouragement, or extensive lessons. No, Diego wanted to be in good graces. He wanted to be a leader. He’d never given Juan Carlos a reason to plan for his execution. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Diego might have been a pupil, his very own puppet, but he was expendable. Just like all the rest.

Juan Carlos cracked his knuckles and knocked back the last of the amber liquor in his highball glass. “Have Alejandro brought to me.”

Someone always listened for his orders. His staff would find his number two and send for him immediately, though none of them would venture near the man unless requested. Alejandro looked like a gorilla, snarled like a barracuda, and stunk like a sweat-soaked gladiator under the high sun. If he weren’t a valuable resource, Juan Carlos wouldn’t let him within one hundred kilometers of his estates. But he was valuable, and he’d more than earned his title of second in command. Alejandro developed ways to torture that made him cringe.

Before he could refill his glass from the crystal decanter, Alejandro Suarez ambled into the room. An Uzi was draped over his shoulder like a child’s backpack, but nonetheless, he addressed Juan Carlos with a reverent tilt of his head. “You sent for me, Senor.”

“Diego is failing. If he’s not dead, he soon will be.”

Alejandro nodded. Perhaps hoping to carry out the death order.

“Do whatever it takes to bring me that woman and the list. You should fly out this afternoon. Head to Washington, DC. You can have access to any of my resources you should deem necessary.”

Alejandro smiled with the sadistic look Juan Carlos knew would fix his problems. His number two wanted the woman. He hadn’t given him a woman of his own in weeks. It was like tossing a meaty bone to a Rottweiler. A day later, he would be picking his teeth with a rib bone.

Juan Carlos hated to sacrifice his bestselling product, especially the assumed caliber of Mia Kensington. A little older than he liked, but she had shown fight. Men paid well for that attribute. But if Alejandro succeeded, he’d give the man whatever he wanted.

“Alejandro,
mi amigo
, if she’s to your liking, you may keep her as a reward for your continued excellence.” Without second thought to the tormented fate of the young woman, Juan Carlos returned to his desk to review a ledger.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Winters had a raw lump at the back of his throat since Mia had held Clara earlier in the day. And that kiss by the window didn’t help. Hell if he’d known he craved domestic bliss. Seeing her hold his kid knocked Mia intergalactic-style past the Milky Way.

He had made his way home in a flash, driving like a man intent on sharing his newfound revelation. Now, he towered over her freshly showered body, relishing the scent of his shampoo in her hair. He resisted the urge to finger-comb it. They were in his living room. An empty house, except for the two of them. Too bad he missed another shower with her.

“This could be complicated.” He rubbed a few dark strands of her wet hair between his fingers. “It feels complicated. It feels like
something
, and, doll, I’m not used to
anything
.”

He broke from her, scrubbed his hands over his cheeks, hoping to push away the sinking dread. He was saying the wrong things. Mia remained mum, and he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Without his conscious permission, his hands found her tresses again. “I’m sorry I had to drag you into this. Into my home. Into my family.”

“It’s not that I
dislike
being here.” She tried to brush his hands from her hair, but it was no use. He couldn’t keep his hands off her.

“Oh, it’s not, huh?” He laughed, cupping her chin in his hand. “Tell me then, Miss Psychologist. Where does all your anxiety stem from?”
And tell me the root of mine while you’re at it.

“From places you don’t want to know. Places I don’t want to share.”

“Why not? You know things about me. All my shit. You know all about Clara and how she came into my life. You know my biggest fear is an inability to protect my family. That my career could somehow hurt Clara one day.” He took a breath. He sounded like a chick. “I showed you mine. What about yours?”

“Truth?” she asked, dripping in hesitation.

“You want to stop now?”

“Well, no.” A grandfather clock shook the room. Tic. Tic. Toc. “I don’t do family…”

“You’ve established that.”

“Because, well, it’d be better if I showed you. Look at this beauty.” She turned, dropped the waistband of her pants, and pointed to an old scar on her bottom.

His eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. Were those scars?
How did I not see that?
She’d been below him and in front of him, but never bottom up. One line after another. They were definitely scars. Smooth and faded but very much there.

She lifted her chin, took his angry fist, unfolded his fingers, and traced a narrow line. “And over here. They’re cuts. Slices. Deep reminders in my flesh as to where I came from and what I need to avoid.”

He stood furious and mute, not knowing where to take his line of questioning. Kind words and coherent thoughts evaded him. It was his turn to go silent, despite the storm that thrashed inside his chest. He’d kill the motherfucker.

“And I have marks on the back of my legs, real high up. Right under my butt. Thicker. Wider.”

Thicker? Wider? He’d been so… distracted. He was a piece of shit. How did he not see this?

“Mia, baby. I didn’t—”

“You wouldn’t see them if you weren’t looking. They’re old. But nowhere near forgotten.”

Deep pools teemed on the edge of her bottom eyelids, threatening a flash flood. They never fell, forced back by what could only be a will made of steel.

“Mia…” What could he possibly offer this moment? He hated himself for not having a fucking hot spring of extraordinary things to say. For not knowing how to take away the pain she must’ve been feeling.

“My mother drank like a fish. Or a sailor. Or whatever the worse of the two is. She chased her liquor with her pills. Pint-sized pills. Big-dog pills. Pink and blue. Yellow and white. Square and round and rectangle. She loved variety.”

There were the walls. The sarcasm. It all made sense.

“She hurt you?” he asked but knew it didn’t matter what her response was. Someone hurt her, someone who should have to pay in gigantic proportions.

“Oh, no. She never hurt me. She just focused on laundry, or she’d watch television. Though sometimes, on the days I thought she couldn’t love me any less, she’d go for a walk. Come to think of it, that hurt more than any stupid cut.”

How could a mother hurt her baby? He’d never understand it. He’d spent his life fixing wrongs others couldn’t handle themselves. Mia was trying to keep it together in front of him. It shouldn’t have been this way. She shouldn’t have these memories and scars.

“She hurt you in my book.”

“There’s always that.”

“Your father? He’s the one who hurt you?”

She coughed out an arctic chuckle, more theatrical than comical. “You mean
The Colonel
? Yes, he was the one. He liked to inflict pain with whatever he could find. With whatever might entertain him, distract him, or pass the time in his miserable existence.”

Winters would love to kill the bastard. But not before he ensured the man relived each old wound he gave Mia. Winters channeled all his rage into his fists and tried to hide them in the pockets of his pants. Ripping shit off walls wasn’t going to help Mia now. Napalming an area a mile wide wouldn’t help either.

He had to listen. Had to figure out what might help. A rampage would only be self-serving. He’d do it later and rain fire from the sky.

“Honey—” His chest felt tight.

“Don’t honey me. Or baby. Or doll. I don’t need it, and I don’t want it.”

He tugged at his collar. “They alive?”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“All of your walls make sense.” He hugged her. Not with the intention of crushing her breasts against him, or wrapping her body onto his, but with the sole desire to console her, wipe away all the hurt and pain.

Mia laughed again, this time, into his chest. She was still very much pressed into his embrace. “My walls are nothing. I became a psychologist to figure out how to fix me. Helping everyone else is just a bonus.”

“We’re the sum of our parts. One thing doesn’t define us.”

“For you, okay. But I don’t know about me.”

How could she think such a thing?
He pulled her from his chest, holding her in outstretched arms. “No, Mia. That’s where you’re wrong. That’s where all your schooling and studying left you hanging. You
are
perfect. You
are
strong.”

“I’m not—”

“Everything about you is all shock and awe. You know what that means? Overwhelming power and spectacular displays of force. Tell me how you made it out of your childhood home to a military base? Tell me how you’ve made it through the last days with me, enemy crosshairs searching for your gorgeous smile?”

“But—”

“You wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t house a hell of a fight deep within your gut. And to top it off, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on. Ever.”

Tears slid down the perfect slope of her cheeks. Her lips trembled, and she grew prettier with each passing second.

“I wasn’t asking for a pep talk.”

“That wasn’t one. It was the God’s honest truth.”