CHAPTER SEVEN
Damn, she was more beautiful than ever .
Upon first seeing Lucia, Eddie had to suppress the near instinctual impulse to go to her, yank her into his arms, and kiss the living shit out of her.
The way he’d always done before things blew up between them.
Instead, his feet had seemed rooted to the floor, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
She had always been the prettiest girl he ever knew.
Now, she was a gorgeous woman with curves his fingers itched to touch.
Lucia Santos was breathtaking, and the dusky rose color in her cheeks when she was riled up added to her appeal. If she was pissed off before, she was really going to be ticked when she heard what Eddie had to say next.
“Isabella being targeted could have something to do with her connection to my family,” he said. “And to me.”
“You? But she doesn’t even know you.”
Of course, the kid didn’t know him. But hearing her say that hurt, and Eddie couldn’t actually pinpoint why, exactly. Maybe it bothered him because for years, he’d clung to the fantasy of them having children together.
He reminded himself how easily she seemed to have moved on without him, and that helped shore up his resolve against her.
“We believe all of it—the missing girls, what happened to Violetta, and possibly what just happened at your place—have something to do with a job I did for the NSA.” He hated that his life choices had brought darkness, pain, and torment to so many people.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
He was about to explain when the back door opened and Mark strolled into the room.
“This is what was thrown through Isabella’s window.
” He held up three plastic evidence bags: one with what looked like a paving stone, one with a long piece of twine, and the third held a wrinkled, slightly torn piece of white paper that appeared to have something written on it.
“The note was folded up and tied to the paver, and we found it on the floor right next to her bed.”
“Oh, my God.” Lucia’s hand flew to her mouth. “She was playing on her bed. If that would’ve hit her—”
“But it didn’t.” Eddie set his hand on her narrow shoulder. A vaguely familiar zing shot across his skin, so he immediately lowered it.
Keep it professional.
“The note is in Spanish.” Mark spoke Spanish, but he handed the plastic bag with the note to Eddie.
Eddie read it to himself.
Hello, Mr. Sanchez, or should I say, Mr. Calabretta.
That is right, I know who you really are.
I know about your whole family and your past with Lucia Santos, formerly Mrs. Woodson.
That must have stung, knowing she married another man and had his child.
She is quite beautiful, by the way, and her daughter, Isabella, what an adorable little girl.
I know what you did to my brother, to my family.
The time has come for you to pay the price for your betrayal.
“Son of a bitch.” His jaw tightened, and he squelched the urge to crumple the note in his hand.
“Well?” Lucia looked from Mark to Eddie. “What does it say?”
He handed her the note, and her lips moved slightly as she read each word.
“Who is Mr. Sanchez?” She lifted her confused gaze to him.
“I am,” he said. “Or at least I was.”
He’d hope to avoid this topic, at least for a while, but she was in this now, and she deserved to know why all of this was happening.
“For three years, while I was with the NSA, I worked deep undercover infiltrating a very powerful, very dangerous drug cartel.” Due to the classified nature of his work, there were certain aspects of what he did that he would never be able to share, so he kept his explanation high-level.
“During the course of that investigation, something came up, and I had no choice but to blow my cover.” He’d done it to save Cole’s wife after she was kidnapped by AJ Munoz.
“A very important person within the organization was killed as a result, and somehow, his brother figured out who I am, and now he wants revenge.”
“Wait … are you telling me that someone wants to … to kill us?” Her dark brows scrunched together in disbelief. “All because of some … job you did.”
She looked back and forth between him and Mark, as if waiting for them to tell her it was all just some kind of tasteless joke.
Unfortunately, he was deadly serious.
Her mouth gaped open, and she stared at him in obvious shock. It wasn’t every day you learned the cartel had put a target not only on your back but your child’s, too. Most people thought that shit only happened in movies.
This was no movie—this was real life.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Eddie’s answer was abrupt, but it would be an insult to her intelligence and a waste of time to sugarcoat such a serious situation.
She was going to find out just how serious with what he said next.
“You and Isabella will need to go to a safe house.” He looked to Mark for confirmation.
“We have a few of them scattered around the area,” Mark said. “They can be ready in a few hours.”
“No, they should stay with the team. Right now, that’s the safest place for them.” Eddie turned back to her. “We’ll escort you back to your house. You’ll need to pack a bag for you and Isabella.”
“You can make a list of anything else you need”—Mark pulled a small spiral notebook from his back pocket—“and we’ll have a deputy gather it up for you.”
Eddie said, “We’ll need to have a car—”
“Wait just a damn minute!” Lucia shouted over them.
They stopped and turned to her.
“Do I have any say in all of this?” She looked from one man to the other. “I do not want to pack up and leave our home.” She lifted one finger. “First of all, Isabella is a very smart child. If we leave right after a rock is thrown through her window, she’ll know something is wrong.”
Something is wrong, Eddie thought, but he kept it to himself.
“I will not have an armed police officer sitting in my living room or at my breakfast table scaring my daughter any more than she already is.” She raised a second finger.
“Secondly, she needs to go to school, and I have to go to work. I have a classroom full of third graders who depend on me.” Her hand fell to her side.
“You can’t expect us to just hide out in some house somewhere. ”
He and Mark exchanged a look. The detective faced the direction of Lucia’s house, then he turned back to Eddie with one questioning eyebrow raised.
Eddie already knew what he was thinking. He nodded once and tilted his head sideways toward her.
“She’s not going to like that idea.” He wasn’t sure he liked the idea either.
“If she wants to stay in her house, she’ll have to accept it.” Mark gave a negligent one-shoulder shrug.
“A-HEM!” Lucia loudly cleared her throat, lifted her hand, and wiggled her fingers. “She is standing right here.”
Eddie gave Mark a go ahead, you tell her kind of look.
“The only way you can stay in your house is if a trained professional is there with you.” Mark held up his hand when she opened her mouth.
“With everything that’s going on around here, I don’t have the manpower to spare, so you have two choices.
You either pack a couple of bags and stay in a safe house until this thing is resolved.
Or—” He hesitated. “Eddie stays at your place.”
“No way.” Her answer was immediate, and her head shook back and forth a bit too aggressively. “Nope. There has to be another option. Eddie and I—”
“I know you two have a history, but those are your choices, Lucia,” Mark said. “Which do you pick—going to a safe house with the rest of his team or staying in your home, and Eddie crashes on your couch?”
Eddie wasn’t sure how this would play out, but it had to be done this way.
Torture.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Fine.” Lucia’s shoulders sagged on a resigned sigh. “He can stay in our guest room. But under one condition.”
“Let’s hear it.” Mark crossed his arms, ready for a fight.
“Isabella and I still go to school every day.” Her chin lifted, and her tone was adamant. “I refuse to upend our entire life over this … mess.”
“Does that work for you?” Mark turned to Eddie. “We have a deputy—a resource officer—at the school every day.”
“As long as you have a deputy there, that works,” he said. “My team will be here this afternoon, and we’ll come up with some contingency plans.”
“Okay, so we’re agreed. Eddie stays at your place, you and Isabella can go to school, but that’s it.” Mark could be just as stubborn as Lucia.
“Whatever.” She actually rolled her eyes.
Eddie rubbed his mouth to hide a grin, because he was pretty sure she was mad enough to pop him in the jaw.
Mark’s phone rang, and he slipped it from his pocket.
“Excuse me. I need to take this.” He stepped out of the room to take the call.
“I’m going to grab some stuff from the car.” Eddie headed to the front door and swung it open. He stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Are you gonna have a problem with me being at your place?”
A part of him hoped she’d change her mind and stay at a safe house.
“Why, looking for an excuse to run away again?” She never broke eye contact, simply stood there, challenging him to answer.
So he did.
Eddie stepped back inside, shut the door, and flipped the deadbolt into place.
There was no door-slamming. No yelling. He just moved toward her, footsteps barely audible, his gaze never shifting from hers.
There was an eerie sleekness in his movements that was no doubt a byproduct of years spent working in the shadows, pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
Eddie Calabretta was a professional liar. Something she would keep in mind when dealing with him.
The angry tension that had been building over the years crackled across the space between them. But there was another kind of spark there, too. Something just beneath the surface that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with the sexual energy they’d always had between them.
Eddie stalked toward her with a sort of fluid motion imbued with strength.
Lucia’s entire body stiffened. She forced herself not to take a step back and bolstered herself against his innate maleness.
He stopped about a foot in front of her and planted his feet apart.
“I didn’t run away.” Despite her snarky remark, his voice remained neutral. “You knew I was serious about enlisting in the Corps, and I did.”
“You knew I wasn’t crazy about that idea. But you went ahead and signed up anyway.” She swallowed against the painful lump forming in her throat. “Then one day, poof, you were just … gone.”
“You and I both know there was more to it than me not discussing my life choices with you.” His jaw rippled, and she spotted a brief flash of anger in his eyes that disappeared so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it.
“Oh, boy, do I ever.” Lucia tried to keep her tone level, but this was an emotional topic for her. “You thought—”
“Mom, look what Mr. Bart gave me!” Isabella charged into the room with Bart right behind her.
“Sorry, Lucia,” Bart apologized. “She was really excited to show you.”
“No apology necessary.” Lucia set aside their conversation for later. “I’m just grateful to you for … well, everything.”
“You’re family.” He rested his big hand on top of Isabella’s head.
“Hello again.” Eddie approached Isabella slowly and squatted down in front of her.
“Are you friends with Mr. Mark? Are you a policeman like he his? He has a shiny gold badge. Do you have a shiny badge?” She leaned close, cupped her hand near his ear, and whispered loudly, “Do you have a gun, too?”
“Isabella.” Lucia gave her daughter the look.
“Let’s see.” He tapped his chin, as if pondering her questions. “Yes, Mr. Mark and I have been friends since we were little boys. Yes, I’m kind of like a policeman, but I don’t have a shiny badge.” He whispered, “And yes, sometimes I do carry a weapon.”
Considering the danger involved with his current and previous careers, she would bet a mortgage payment he not only carried a gun but that he slept with one, too.
Her daughter continued to pepper him with questions.
“Did you go to school with Mr. Mark?” Isabella asked.
“I sure did.” He seemed unbothered by her inquisitiveness.
“Mom went to school with him, too, and they’re friends.” She tilted her head. “Are you friends with my mom, too?”
Lucia was curious to hear his answer to that one.
He twisted to look up at her, then turned back to her daughter.
“I’ve known your mom for a long time, too.” That was it. That was all he said. Unflappable as ever. “What do you have there?” He tapped her hand with his fingertip.
“Oh, yeah. That’s what I came in here to show Mom.” Her eyes brightened. “It’s a Christmas ornament that looks like Mr. Bart’s motorcycle.” She held it by a ribbon and dangled it in front of him. “You can hold it if you want to.”
“I would love to.” He opened his hand, and she set the ornament on his palm.
Eddie turned it over, oohing and aahing like it was the most amazing thing in the world.
“That is so cool.” He winked and handed it back to her. “Thank you for letting me hold it.”
“You’re welcome.” Her daughter actually blushed and giggled.
And just like that, another female succumbed to the inescapable charms of Eddie Calabretta.