Chapter 12 #3
“What?” Stuart asked with a smile. “They are definitely twisted. But I can’t blame him.”
“I wish I did,” Baker said. “I’ve been in contact with Huttner, and we’ve discussed a few possibilities, but without more info we’re kind of in a holding pattern.”
“Meaning, without me being able to give you more info on him,” Monica said softly.
Baker shrugged, which Monica interpreted as a yes.
She hated not being able to describe the man clearly enough for someone to draw a picture of him.
She’d considered asking Theo to give it a shot after seeing the likeness he’d drawn of the man who’d broken into Food For All, but she truly felt she didn’t see enough for anyone to draw a composite of the man.
She felt as if she’d failed, when she hadn’t asked for the responsibility to figure out who he was in the first place.
“Towel?” Jody asked Baker, holding a fluffy dark blue towel toward him.
“Thanks,” Baker said as he took it.
There was no mistaking the look of longing on Jody’s face. And the second she looked away, the same look was reflected on Baker’s.
For a second, Monica had visions of playing matchmaker. Of telling Kenna and the others what she’d observed and seeing if they could somehow set something up at the wedding, get Jody and Baker tipsy and see if they’d act on the sparks flying between them.
But then she thought better of it. She had a feeling no one interfered with Baker’s life.
He wouldn’t allow it. She also figured that if he truly wanted Jody, then he wouldn’t hesitate to do something about it.
So there had to be a reason he wasn’t acting on his attraction, and the last thing Monica wanted to do was piss him off by interfering, or spreading gossip and getting Elodie and the others to meddle in his life.
Baker and Stuart chitchatted about people she didn’t know, and Monica tuned them out.
When Baker began to strip the wet suit off his chest and over his arms, she turned away to stare out at the ocean.
It wasn’t as if he was getting naked right there on the beach, he was only peeling the wet suit down to dry off, but she still felt awkward about watching.
She heard Stuart telling Baker about one of their recent training exercises and couldn’t help but peek over at the older man.
She rationalized her eyeballing him by telling herself Lexie and the others would want a full report of her meeting with Baker when she saw them the next weekend at the bachelorette party.
Once they heard she’d seen him in a wet suit, they’d want all the juicy details.
But the second she caught a glimpse of Baker bare-chested with the wet suit hanging around his waist, all thoughts of the other women—and even where she was—flew out of her mind.
She was abruptly and violently thrown back to the house in Algiers, standing in the middle of the ambassador’s living room, staring at the man with evil eyes as he ordered her to open the door.
Promising that he was a Navy SEAL…that she could trust him.
Suddenly unable to think about anything other than getting away, Monica stepped backward and immediately tripped over a rock behind her. She went down hard on her ass, but she didn’t take her eyes off the threat in front of her.
“Shit…Mo? Are you okay?” Stuart asked, but she didn’t register the words. Her only goal was to put as much distance between herself and the man with the black tattoo on his forearm.
She crab-walked backward, scrambling to get away from him.
“What the fuck?” the man asked, taking a step toward her with his hand outstretched.
Monica whimpered and shot to her feet. She started to run, no destination in mind; she just knew that she had to get away. Now!
Two strong arms caught her around the waist and pulled her against a hard chest.
She fought. Desperately. But it was no use—
“Monica! It’s me, Stuart. Calm down!”
His words barely touched her. She was lost in another time and place.
Flashes of watching the man with the tattoo on the security monitors inside the safe room ran through her brain.
The thought of what he’d do if he got his hands on her tangled with her father’s angry words over the years.
Her hand throbbed as she heard him saying, “You do things by yourself. Asking for help will only screw you in the long run.”
“Monica!” a harsh voice said once more.
The man behind her eased them down to the sand and forced her onto his lap. He kept his arms around her, but she also felt his warm breath at her ear. It took a long moment for his litany of words to register…but when they did, she froze, not fighting him any longer.
“It’s me, Stuart. You’re safe. I promise. Whatever happened, we’ll deal with it together. Come back to me. That’s it, good girl. I’ve got you. Breathe, Mo. Take a deep breath…Good. Another. That’a girl. I can feel your heart pounding a million miles an hour. Just relax.”
“Stuart?” she whispered.
“Yup. Right here.”
Monica realized where she was…at the North Shore with Stuart.
And Jody and Baker—and she’d just embarrassed the hell out of herself.
But at the moment, that was the least of her worries.
She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath, smelling the salty air and feeling the breeze against her cheeks.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Stuart said softly. “Wanna share what that panic attack was about?”
She didn’t, but Monica knew she had to. “The tattoo,” she told him in a whisper, her entire body shaking.
“What tattoo?” he asked.
“Mine,” a deep voice said from above them.
Monica didn’t open her eyes as Baker spoke. She simply nodded.
“You’ve seen it before?” he asked.
She nodded again. “On the man who shot out the window. I knew he had one, but I couldn’t picture it in my mind. It was just a black blur. But the second I saw yours, it came back to me.”
“Fuck,” Baker said in a voice so terrifying, it made Monica flinch. She clutched at Stuart’s arms around her.
“Easy, Mo. You’re safe.”
Was she? The fact that the scary man standing above them had the same tattoo as the guy who’d been accused of raping and killing women, as well as pillaging and inciting mobs to violence, wasn’t exactly reassuring.
Was Baker in on it? Was he feeding the other guy info? Stuart had said Baker was extremely good at electronic stuff, even better than he was. That he could find information no one else could. If he was a part of the other man’s schemes…she was in big trouble.
She felt more than heard someone moving, then Baker’s voice came from right in front of her. “Open your eyes,” he ordered. “Look at me.”
“Baker,” Stuart said, the single word a low, menacing growl.
It was the protectiveness in Stuart’s tone that gave Monica the strength she needed to open her eyes. Baker was squatting in front of her on the balls of his feet. The anger in his eyes made her want to shrink away, but she swallowed hard and stood her ground…so to speak.
“I need you to be sure,” he said gruffly. He held out his arm, displaying the tattoo for her.
The sight of the ink on his skin made goose bumps break out on the back of her neck, but Monica didn’t look away.
Another memory from her childhood popped into her head.
Of when she’d found a litter of kittens from a stray cat who lived on their property.
She’d been cuddling them when her father had found her.
He’d forced her to watch as he picked up those one-week-old kittens and killed them.
When she tried to look away, he’d hit her.
Hard. Told her if she didn’t watch, he’d go beat the hell out of her mother instead.
Monica had been five or six. Even then, she knew better than to disobey her father. That he’d absolutely do what he threatened.
She didn’t think Baker would beat her if she refused to look at his arm, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances.
“Breathe, Mo,” Stuart told her. She felt his chin on her shoulder. Could feel his hair against her cheek. She felt surrounded by him…and amazingly, it made her relax a fraction.
She looked again at Baker’s arm, at the tattoo inked into his skin.
It was a dragon. The tail stretched up to wrap around his bicep and the mouth was open, its many teeth showing in a snarl.
She remembered telling the commander that maybe the design had a snake in it, and now she realized what she’d seen was the tail curling around the man’s upper arm.
“It’s the same,” Monica said.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“How sure?” Baker asked.
She looked into his eyes then, trying not to flinch at the stark fury she saw there. Somehow, she knew it wasn’t directed at her. “As sure as I am that if I didn’t get out of my father’s house when I did, I would’ve been dead in a month.”
She had no idea if the man in front of her knew what that meant, but when he nodded once and stood, she figured he did.
Stuart had told her that Baker had the ability to find out anything about anyone.
She’d kind of shrugged it off at the time.
Now she was certain he’d done his research on her.
Probably the second he’d heard the commander had forced her come to Hawaii to help ID the rogue SEAL.
“You know who he is?” Stuart asked.
“I have a good idea,” Baker said.
Monica felt more than heard Stuart growl in frustration. Then he asked her in a gentle tone, “You think you can stand up?”
She wasn’t sure. But she nodded anyway. And she shouldn’t have worried; Stuart didn’t let go of her for one second as he helped her off his lap and to her feet. He led her over to the table where Jody was still sitting, looking extremely concerned now, and gestured for her to sit on the bench.
Monica did so gratefully. She’d fallen on her ass once in front of these people, she didn’t want to do it a second time.
“Who is he?” Stuart asked.