Chapter Eighteen
Gia’s lips parted at Caleb’s words.
Hope. That’s what was causing her heart to take up all the room in her chest. Why she felt her body lifting, as if she was full of helium and would float to the sky if her seatbelt wasn’t holding her in place.
Hope and the giddy feeling of being wanted. Valued. Despite her past.
Caleb wanted her.
Her stomach filled with lead, rooting her back in her seat. Giddiness morphed into nausea.
He didn’t know she’d contacted Vincente. What if instead of protecting Caleb and buying herself time, she’d made things worse?
“Now that you will be my wife, there are some things you need to know about my business, querida.” Vincente’s hot breath in her ear, his arms banding her in a crushing grip.
“No.” A denial. A plea. Even as Antonio’s body splashed into the Atlantic and her scream floated away on the ocean breeze.
She only had a week with the man she was dangerously close to falling in love with before she had to make a terrible choice. Disappear and let down everyone here who needed her, or turn herself in and testify, where she’d eventually be forced to disappear anyway .
If Espina Negra didn’t get to her first.
Because she wouldn’t help Caleb avenge his mother if it meant confronting Vincente directly. No matter how skilled a soldier he’d been—still was—he’d lose.
And he didn’t know the secret she still kept, the one she clung to in order to protect them both.
“I don’t blame you, you know, for wanting to use me to put Vincente in prison after what happened to your mother.” She gave a hard swallow. “I wish I had the courage to do it.”
Car leather creaked as Caleb leaned in.
Gia stiffened. She didn’t deserve this man. She didn’t deserve happiness.
“Stay with me, Gia.” He kissed her. Not a hard, possessive kiss that branded her as his. No , this was a gentle sweep of his lips against hers until the tension seeped from her body. “You’re not running. That takes courage.”
Oh , but she was prepared to run. Or turn herself in and put an even bigger target on her back.
Would Caleb understand the sacrifice she made for him? Or would he think her a coward, while whatever he felt for her withered in disgust?
She cupped his cheek. He was everything she’d always wanted and never had.
Home. Safety. Love.
His dark eyes softened. “I need you to pack.”
Pack?
Her heart stuttered. “Where am I going?”
Was today at the clinic the last time she’d see Jennie? Her patients?
Not yet. I’m not ready .
“I’m waiting on a call from a colleague. He’s finding us somewhere to stay. Somewhere Vincente’s men don’t know about. It’s not safe for us here any longer.” Caleb unlatched his seatbelt and stepped from the car, engine still running.
His hand disappeared into his leather jacket and came out with his gun. “Shift over into the driver’s seat. Lock the doors. If you see anyone but me come out of the house or into the yard, get out of here and call Zach.”
He peered at her through the open door, his bodyguard persona firmly in command. “Do you understand? No hesitating.”
She bit her lip and glanced at the blinds covering her living room window. Was it her imagination, or were they ajar, like someone had separated the slats to peer out? “Maybe you shouldn’t go in there by yourself.”
“I know what to look for. If someone’s been in your home, I’ll know it before I enter.” He waited until she’d switched seats, then circuited her home, returning to inspect the front door before he entered.
What felt like twenty minutes—but, according to the clock on the dashboard, wasn’t more than five—Caleb reappeared.
He motioned for her to turn off the engine and join him. His gun had disappeared.
He looked good on her doorstep. Handsome. Capable.
Like he belonged here, among the rugged sandstone buttes and mesas that blazed orange and red during the golden hour—just after sunrise and before sunset—in this stretch of the Colorado Plateau.
With her.
A fantasy. She had a week to decide whether to run or turn herself in.
Either way, despite the promises she’d made, her time with Caleb was short.
Caleb’s phone belted out the hard-driving bass drum that kicked off a Metallica song.
Nathan.
The former SEAL got his kicks assigning custom ringtones to everyone’s company-issued phones. Caleb’s was “Desperado” by the Eagles—not exactly subtle, but better than Danny’s, which was “Crazy Train.”
He ushered Gia out of the cold and into the warmth of the house, locking the door before answering. “Did you find a place?”
“It’s not like there are a lot of options in no-fucking-where Arizona and New Mexico, amigo,” Nathan said. “Especially on short notice.”
Hell . “So you didn’t find anything?”
A nearby hotel, then. Not the best option given the circumstances, but it would have to do.
Nathan snorted in his ear. “You insult me. Of course I did. I’m texting you the address. It’s on the outskirts of Gallup and remote enough that if shit goes down, you won’t have neighbors caught in the crossfire.”
Caleb’s shoulders loosened. “Thanks, man.”
Gia stood in the living room, watching him.
He put the phone on mute. “Pack enough clothes for a few days.”
Once she’d disappeared down the hall, he returned to his conversation with Nathan.
“What can we do to help?” Gone was the banter. Nathan’s tone settled into mission mode .
“I appreciate everything you’ve already done. But this business with Lopez could get messy. I can’t ask you guys to put Dìleas in a cartel’s crosshairs.”
“Caleb,” Nathan growled. “I know you’re just an Army grunt but listen up—we’ve got your six. Always.”
Unexpected emotion clogged Caleb’s throat. “Thanks, man. Send me that address.”
Gia appeared, suitcase in a death grip that bleached her knuckles white.
He ended his call. “You ready?”
“Since I left Vincente, all I’ve done is run.” She glanced around her home, her gaze deliberate as it moved from place to place.
Almost as if she didn’t expect to see it again. It was in her body language.
Flight mode.
She wasn’t going anywhere without him. “We aren’t running, sweetheart. We’re relocating to a safe base of operations while we figure out a plan.”
Caleb’s colleague had rented them a seven-hundred-square-foot adobe casita on the outskirts of Gallup.
It sat down a long dirt road, about a half-mile from a contemporary two-story home made of brick, steel beams, and glass—likely the owner’s place.
That house, perched at the top of the drive, reminded her of the East Coast.
The adobe casita was all Southwest. Barbed wire separated the one-bedroom dwelling from a field of horses grazing on the few shoots of vegetation that hadn’t gone dormant for the winter.
It was cute, secluded and—Gia thought—her last haven before she had to make a terrible decision.
Run—and lose Caleb forever. Stay—and watch him die. Turn herself in—and live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.
No matter what she chose, she would never be free.
One week.
The clock ticking in her head felt like it had enough dynamite attached to it to blow her entire world to smithereens.
Caleb input the access code to unlock the front door. A click followed a soft whirr of the locking mechanism as the deadbolt slid back.
He glanced back at her and frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Other than you holding a gun?” A pointed glance at the Glock in his hand. She could deflect with the best of them.
“Better safe than sorry.”
They stepped into the main living area with its bright white walls and rustic hardwood floors. The air inside was cool and smelled of pine-scented household cleaner.
“Cozy.” Her mood lightened.
The space was just large enough to accommodate the burnt orange upholstered couch that reminded her of desert sunsets and two sand colored canvas side chairs that were grouped around a petrified wood slab coffee table.
The sliding glass doors on the back wall provided a picturesque view of the horses and a distant butte.
“No drapes.” Caleb didn’t seem as enamored of the view as she was. “Gotta find some blankets to cover all that glass.”
“Why? I like it.”
He shifted on his feet. Looked away. “We’d be sitting ducks for anyone with a rifle and scope, especially at night.”
Her stomach knotted. Sweat broke out on her temple, the bucolic scene ruined.
She moved to the corner, out of sight.
“Wait here while I clear the rest of the house.” Caleb disappeared through the archway to their right.
“Kitchen,” he called out.
He reappeared and crossed the living room to the other side of the casita. Opened the door there. “Bedroom.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “Why don’t you lie down while I unload the car and take a look around outside, before it gets dark.”
Apparently, the dull throb in her temple hadn’t gone unnoticed.
She trudged into the bedroom while the front door clicked behind her as Caleb went outside.
The bedroom and bathroom were modeled along the same clean lines as the living room. White walls, white tile. Even the duvet that covered the king-sized bed was white. The only splash of color was the hot air balloon shower curtain and a stack of mint-green bath towels.
Gia dropped her purse on the bed. Big enough for two. Whereas that orange couch in the living room?
Too small for anyone to sleep comfortably on.
She knew where she wanted Caleb.
In bed. With her.
But after what happened at the clinic, she couldn’t trust her mind not to betray her and ruin everything.
“Worry about that later.” It had been a day.
She slipped out of her ankle boots and stretched out on the bed, still in her jeans and purple knit sweater.
A ringing came from inside her purse .
Jennie had said she’d call if there were any issues at the clinic.
Gia fumbled for the phone, fingers digging past keys and a crumpled tissue until she wrapped her hand around the plastic case.
Ring.
A jolt ran through her.
Ring.
The last person to call her had been Vincente.
Ring.
What if he’d traced her number? Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Ring.