Chapter Fifteen Alejandro
Chapter Fifteen
Alejandro
Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it.
My father’s words growing up slipped through my mind as I stared at the traitor.
The news was a blessing and a curse. I could now kill Mitch with my own hands.
Unable to stop myself, I hooked my arm around Audrey, worried she might actually faint this time.
Ryder grabbed hold of the guy’s chin, forcing his eyes on him. “Try again.”
He attempted to resist Ryder’s hold to look at Audrey, and I noticed she was gripping the front of my jacket, practically turning right into my arms.
I needed to get her out of there, but Ryder’s clipped voice drew my attention back to our subject. He leaned over him, getting in his personal space, the knife resting at his side. “I don’t believe in ghosts. Demons, maybe. Looking at a man possessed by one now—but no, not ghosts.”
“The plane crash was a cover-up.” The side of his mouth lifted into a partial smile. “Body too burned to allow for an open casket.”
Audrey released my jacket and held up her hand, staring at my blood on her palm. “You should, um, clean that wound,” she said in a daze, ignoring the asshole’s remarks.
“Wait, you got hurt? That’s your blood?” Reed redirected his focus on me, where it didn’t belong. “Need the medic kit?”
“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.” I took hold of her arm, worried she’d topple over without support. “One of his buddies out in the woods who won’t be getting up again did it.”
“We all knew what we were getting ourselves into,” he spat out. “The risk was worth it. Despite what you think of us, we’re patriots.”
“Oh really?” Ryder circled his chair, probably about to apply more pressure to get him to talk.
“I don’t think she should be in here.” I tipped my head toward Audrey, a statue of shock at my side.
Her long lashes fluttered in some type of rhythm.
Blink. Shock. Blink.
She blinked her way over to Reed. “That medical kit you have, where is it?”
“Whatever bedroom Eden put my stuff in. In my duffel bag,” Reed answered, eyes darting to my side and my torn jacket. “How bad is it, really?” He came over, forcing me to let go of her so he could have a look for himself.
“Not a big deal. Just . . .” I closed my eyes, memories of being shot by Beth last fall cutting through my mind. “He reopened an old wound, is all. That’s why it’s bleeding like this.”
Theme of the weekend: reopening old wounds. Try not to bleed out, physically or emotionally.
“It’s not that old of a wound.” He tacked on in a low voice, “Damn that woman.” He glanced at Audrey, jaw tight. “I have something in my bag that’ll seal his wound better than a regular bandage.”
“Great.” Blink. Shock. Blink. “I’ll take care of him. You just stay here and get the truth from him, because there’s no way Mitch is alive.” Her voice was raw and heartbreaking.
“Hold up,” Ryder said, removing the radio clipped at his side. He quickly communicated with Beau, then Trevor, checking to make sure the property was still secure.
“The front is clear,” Beau responded.
Trevor transmitted the all clear: “And I have the surveillance feeds up and nothing but wildlife in the woods for now. No thermal movement beyond the ridge. Back’s tight.”
“Stay put. Keep me posted,” Ryder replied, then directed to me, “Go ahead. Get yourself patched up. Stay with her.” He asked Trevor next, “What room did Eden put Reed’s stuff in?”
“Three. First floor. Another set of keys are in my side desk drawer,” Trevor answered, and Reed was already on the move to retrieve them.
My body relaxed. First floor. Good. I wasn’t sure I’d be making it up the stairs with how much blood I was losing from that “scratch.”
“If you two need my help, let me know.” Reed handed the key to Audrey, as if I were a victim incapable of moving on my own. Damn him.
“Come on.” I reached for Audrey’s arm, needing to hold on to her as much as she probably needed me.
At the doorway, she stopped and faced the room. “Why does he want me? If he’s really alive and it’s him behind all of this, why? Can’t you just take the wedding bands and be done with me?”
Ryder moved aside so she could see, but I doubted the jerk would respond. Not truthfully, at least.
“You’re his wife. That should be reason enough.” He coughed up blood, spitting it off to the side and away from Ryder.
“No, I’m not. Not anymore, and he knew I was—”
“Leaving him? But he didn’t sign those papers, now did he? So guess what that makes you? Still. His. Wife. Under the eyes of the law and”—he looked up at the ceiling—“under God. You’re his.”
“Get her out of here,” Ryder ordered. “I don’t want her seeing what I’m about to do.”
“Wait . . . you said being his wife ‘should’ be reason enough—but it isn’t the actual reason, is it?” Her voice was so damn fragile it pained me to hear. I was worried she’d break. Yet she kept her chin up and remained boldly staring at the traitor.
Unable to handle her being in his presence any longer, I opened the door and urged her to step out so Ryder and Reed could talk to him.
I let her lead the way to Room 3 since she was familiar with the layout. “Are you all right?”
“Not sure I can be okay after learning my husband may be alive,” she murmured as she let us into Reed’s room.
I unhooked the radio from my side and tossed it onto the bed before dropping down next to it.
“Take off your jacket and shirt.” She wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans as if it were no big deal she was wearing my blood, then removed her jacket and knelt in front of Reed’s duffel bag.
“I see what you’re doing,” I said with a laugh, pretty sure I was losing more than blood now—losing my mind, too. “Venganza. Payback for seeing you naked.”
Her hands went still in her pursuit of the cure that would hopefully fix my sanity as well. “Thought we were supposed to forget that happened?”
“Imposible.” Why’d I keep switching back and forth between the languages?
I needed to get a grip. Clearly no grips to be had, because I went and shared, “Well, I did see you, so . . .” I unzipped my jacket, trying to stifle a groan at the pain the movement caused.
“I’m trained to key in on every detail in a matter of seconds, and now I’ll never forget. ”
Another round of blink, shock, blink from her.
I had to stop oversharing. Had to stop speaking in both English and Spanish altogether. At least, nothing about us or my feelings.
I pointed to the bag, forced myself to get with the program, and told her what she needed to get from the medkit and how to use it to stop the bleeding and seal the wound.
“If Mitch is alive,” she said in a soft voice, changing the subject, “then I guess I really am still his wife?”
“If he’s alive, he won’t be staying that way.”
She stood and faced me as I tossed my shirt. “Alejandro.”
“Don’t ‘Alejandro’ me,” I grunted, looking down at my hand to find it covered in blood, like a metaphor for what I planned to do to Mitch if he still had a pulse.
“Shoot, I better move faster. I’m so sorry.” She dumped the supplies on the bed, then ran into the connecting bathroom and returned with wet towels.
Sitting next to me, she began cleaning the wound, and now I was the one feeling lightheaded. Groggy. A little blink, shock, blinking myself as she doctored me.
“Mind if I ask how you got this original wound?”
I do. I swallowed, eyes nearly rolling to the ceiling. “Beth. It’s from Beth.” I reached for her forearm, hating myself for opening up as easily as this old wound had.
“Who’s Beth?” she asked while using the syringe on me next, injecting the trauma gel into my wound.
“My ex-wife.” My head rolled forward. “She tried to kill me last fall. She was CIA. Betrayed our . . . like Mitch . . . and apparently, they’ve been on an op together.
” I had no idea what words made it from my mouth to her ears, but clearly she understood enough, because she was staring at me with narrowed, sad eyes.
“Oh.”
Yeah, that was about the only thing one could say.
A vowel sound of shock.
“There,” she whispered after covering the wound with a bandage. “Bleeding has stopped. Really no stitches needed, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m all set, don’t worry,” I said under my breath, relieved she wasn’t addressing the truth bomb I’d detonated and left to explode between us.
“How do you feel now?”
“No.” I frowned. “How do you feel?” I dropped my eyes to her handiwork. Now I just needed an IV or something sugary to wake me back up.
“I’m more concerned about you.” She used the towel to clean her hands, then did something I didn’t expect: She set her hand on my cheek. “You risked your life to get answers. I wish you hadn’t done that. The idea you may not have come back to us is too terrifying to think about.”
“So don’t think about it, then.” I pushed through the fog and the discomfort and remembered something critical.
Something important. Another reason why I had to keep my distance from her.
“This is what I do. Mission first, my life second.” I let her in on another bit of truth I doubted she knew.
“We’re not private security anymore. We work directly for President Bennett now.
” That was classified. And I didn’t care.
“My life could end at any moment. Country over self.” I’d done it again.
Taken a page from her book and continued to remain out of character. To overshare.
“Alejandro.” She shifted closer, resting her forehead against mine, never losing hold of my face.
“Please don’t say my name like that.” I covered her hand, her warmth grounding me more than the bandage ever could. “Please don’t say that name at all.”
“Why not?” Her mouth pinched tight, etched into a sad line that hurt me to see.
“Because I like how it sounds too much,” I confessed.
Her eyes narrowed, slanting toward my lips. “Oh.” There it was again. That little sound that I wanted to catch with my tongue.
“Peligroso,” I reminded her, my heart hurting more than my side. “Dangerous.”
“Which part?” Her brows lifted.
“Talking about myself, because I just might tell you things I shouldn’t.”
“Like?” she whispered.
My stomach muscles tensed, but my throat didn’t constrict, and out the truth came despite my efforts to stop it. “That I used to think I could have it all. A career. Wife. Kids.” I swallowed. “A dog, too, so Reed would visit, since he’s better with animals than people.”
“And she ruined the idea of that for you?” she asked in a tentative, nervous tone, like she was terrified to hear the truth. To hear the yes fall from my mouth.
So I gave it to her in Spanish, knowing damn well she’d still understand. “Sí.” I dropped my voice lower when promising, “But I won’t let Mitch destroy your future the way Beth did mine. I won’t let him take your peace. Got it?”
“Alejan—”
The door flung open, sending my name from her lips to the ether, and she immediately jerked back, hands falling to her lap.
Reed. Not Ryder or Trevor. That was something, at least.
His gaze volleyed between us, his eyes landing on the bandage at my side. “You good?” he asked me.
Not even close to being there, so of course I lied. “Yeah.”
Audrey pointed at the phone he was clutching as he approached the bed. “What is it?”
“A text came through over the burner the guy had on him. Curious to see if you could confirm whether Mitch really sent it, based on what it said.” He handed her the phone. “Although looks like these guys know a lot about him, so they could be faking it. Pretending to be him for some reason.”
Unknown: Audrey, it’s me. Yes, I’m alive.
And I need you. All our lives, including Chase’s, depend on you helping me.
Be in touch in 72 hours with instructions.
Do Not lose the key. I’m trying my best not to hurt anyone you care about, but if you keep putting up a fight, you may give me no choice.
Love you. Don’t forget you love me too. —Hell
“Chase,” she gasped. “Is he threatening him, too, if I don’t do what he asks?”
“Are you sure that’s Mitch?” Reed asked her before I could wrangle my angry thoughts and form a coherent sentence after reading his message.
“That’s how he signed off on texts when he’d send me a message from an unknown number so I’d know it was him. He used to say Hell was his brand. He said, ‘I sign off with hell because that’s what I raise.’ It started as a joke, but it stuck,” she explained, her voice trembling.
“But his friends would know that,” Reed said, “so that doesn’t mean this is really him.”
That ugly, dark part of me that wanted him alive so I could be the one to kill him just got uglier and darker.
Drain every drop of his blood for hitting her. Raping her. For endangering her and Chase.
All the things.
All. The. Fucking. Things.
I’d make him pay.
And only then, after he’d suffered, would I kill him.