46. Hayden
46
HAYDEN
S liding behind the wheel of the SUV, I marveled at the changes in my life over the last couple of months. From estranged and yearning for my husband, who I swore would never forgive my bullshit, to reunited and fully recommitted to him and forging a relationship with the woman we’d dreamed about before things went to hell in a dumpster fire. Life was fucking fantastic.
Which had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.
Every bad moment in my life had been preceded by that thought or a similar one. My mom dying, Jackson finding Mara and me, Mara leaving me at the altar, Lucia and our pseudo relationship, then the blow up with Declan, the shit at the hospital, and later in Vegas. Every one of those moments had been foreshadowed by the thought that life was going well.
Catching Marcie watching me through the side mirror, I smirked. Damn, she was gorgeous.
“The pilot says they’re on the ground,” Foster said from the passenger seat.
I bobbed my head, tucking my feelings and the dread away to worry about another time. I needed to focus. There was still a job to do.
Putting the car in gear, I drove down the driveway toward the security gate. Declan was behind the wheel of the vehicle trailing me with Priest and Cameron bringing up the ass end. At the road in front of the house, I turned toward the private airstrip. Declan followed closely, but Priest and Cameron turned in the opposite direction toward town to run the errands assigned to them and then check in on Marcie’s dad.
A little way down the road, Declan made a sharp turn. The plan was to split up, each SUV taking a different route to the airstrip to throw off anyone who may be watching, and to be less conspicuous. It didn’t take us long to arrive at the airstrip. It wasn’t anything fancy. It didn’t need to be. We needed the plane off the ground and in the air without a lot of fanfare. This place was perfect for that.
I drove into the parking lot, pulling into the spot next to the SUV Declan drove. He, Marcie, Heidi, Scott, and Lucia were already heading toward the building. The guys at the airfield grabbed the luggage out of our vehicle as soon as they finished unloading Declan’s car, except for Katie’s backpack and gig bag. Jackson grabbed the guitar, and Katie took her backpack, carrying them through check-in and then out on the tarmac, Marcie doing the same with the bag, which held her stuffies.
We filed up the steps and into the plane. It was hard as fuck to wrap my head around even being adjacent to this kind of wealth. Declan had tried talking to me about the trust and my place in the family, but I shut it down. I wasn’t there yet. And I’d never get there if there wasn’t a way to ensure Marcie was at some point, too.
The comment she made that first night about babies rattled around in my head at random moments. Declan and I needed to have a conversation about that as well. Without Marcie’s knowledge because I didn’t wanna worry her about shit that my damn fucked up head conjured up. The thing that bothered me the most was what he said about the trust all those years ago, about who got added and when.
If we had kids would be Marcie’s decision to make. Yes, I’d like some eventually, because I wanted a family with them. One we created together.
Marcie’s worry about who the father would be didn’t concern me. We were together—a committed throuple. I’d love any kid we had the same, no matter who donated the genetic material. But that was if we had any.
So, no, the who didn’t worry me. What concerned me was the difference in financial and familial status. I didn’t want a kid fathered by Declan treated any differently than my biological child. That was my biggest worry.
The government, and most people, would never recognize the three of us as legally married. I got it. The legalities would be a nightmare. My VA benefits, social security, you name it, the government wouldn’t pass that shit because of the logistics.
Did it suck?
Hell fucking yes.
I hated that there was an inherent difference between my relationship with Declan and our relationships with Marcie. And there always would be because he and I were married, and she was technically considered a girlfriend? Partner?
Whatever you called her, there would be people who saw her as she worried they would. An invader. A hanger-on. And, in Declan’s case, a gold digger. I wouldn’t fucking have it. Not ever. Because it was fucking wrong. This marriage was a partnership between the three of us. And if I wouldn’t condone it for her, I for damn sure wouldn’t allow it to happen to our children.
Blaring alarms and alerts filled the plane as several phones went off at once, dragging me from my thoughts. The sound was reminiscent of all the times I got called up while still active duty.
I looked around and saw Declan, Foster, Heidi, and Celeste’s faces turn white and their eyes grew rounder than the silver dollars I’d received while in the Marines.
“What’s going on, Foster?” Jackson asked.
Katie, who Jackson had pulled into his arms, yelled, “Goddammit! Tell me something!”
Reading over Declan’s shoulder, I said, “The house received a package…”
BOMB!
The word jumped off the screen of Declan’s phone seconds before Foster’s voice cut through the plane’s cabin.
“Get off the plane! Now! Fucking Move!”
Jackson… damn the kid had reflexes like a cat… grabbed Katie and ran for the door. Hot on his heels, I pushed Declan in front of me, my arm wrapped around Marcie’s waist. She had on sensible shoes, thank God, but she was fucking tiny and visibly upset, not moving nearly fast enough for my peace of mind.
At the foot of the stairs, I kissed Marcie before shoving her into Declan’s arms.
“Go with Daddy, pequena.”
“Papi! No, where are you going?” Marcie screamed, her voice laced with fear, making tears run down her beautiful face.
“Declan, get her the fuck outta here!”
“Don’t go! Please! Papi!”
She cried for me, fighting Declan’s hold on her. I pulled them to me, kissing them.
“I love you both. Now, go!”
Shoving Declan toward Heidi, who headed toward the second SUV, I took off after Katie and Jackson. At the front SUV, I looked back to make sure Declan got himself and Marcie in the other car.
Jackson noticed, his gaze following mine, and said, “Go. We’ll be fine.”
Torn between the mission and my heart, I swore, my eyes closing as my heart won the argument that shouldn’t have been. I slammed the door shut and pounded the roof as Jackson shoved Katie into the SUV. The vehicle peeled away, and my feet flew across the tarmac to the other SUV.
The driver’s side rear door popped open, and I swung into the backseat, the SUV’s engine roaring as we took off. The door slammed shut on its own as the massive SUV swung sharply, raising off the outside wheels.
I glanced to see who was behind the wheel, but quickly shut my mouth. Heidi had put all of us Marines through both a defensive and offensive driving test. She knew what the fuck she was doing.
I didn’t pay attention to where we were going or if we were even following Foster, Katie, and Jackson.
As soon as I was in, I looked over Declan and Marcie to make sure they were unharmed and sighed. Not a scratch on either. Declan stared at me, his gaze questioning, but I turned my focus to Marcie.
“Colibrí, buckle up for Papi, okay?” I whispered as I cupped her tear-stained face.
She nodded, her chin trembling against my palm as she reached for the seatbelt. The car swerved again, and I cursed. Declan grabbed me, so I didn’t hit the floor since I hadn’t buckled up either.
“Take your own damn advice,” he growled as I righted myself.
I looked at the other piece of my heart. The one who never let me get away with anything, who pushed me to the brink of insanity, and made me a better man.
“You okay, carino?”
“Yes. I’m fine. We both are. Why aren’t you with Foster watching over Jackson and Katie?”
I didn’t answer him. What could I say? I did the one thing you weren’t supposed to do. I let personal feelings get in the way of my fucking job. I failed to remember that the mission came first.
Declan and Marcie owned me: heart, body, and soul. When Jackson told me to go, I did, barely giving any consideration to the two people who needed my protection more. Declan would hand me my ass when we got ourselves out of this mess.
As he should.
He was the pro. I was a trained amateur playing in the big leagues.
My only excuse was fear. The likes of which I’d never known. It filled me, swarming me like a hive of angry bees, and held me hostage. All I could think about was getting the two people who meant more to me than my own life out of danger.
I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever been this worked up. I’d been on some backassward missions. Ops that had gone so far sideways there was no righting them. Hell, I hadn’t even been this worked up when I got hurt, and I’d been a fucking mess then.
“Motherfucker!”
I turned to look at Heidi, but the reason she cursed stared at us blatantly as we came around the bend in the road.
The other SUV blocked the road. Flipped on its top. Oh fuck! We were fucking stupid. Every last one of us.
The bomb threats were diversions. Meant to throw us off kilter and send us scrambling in retreat. Heidi slammed on the brakes, throwing us all forward. As soon as we came to a stop, everyone but Marcie and me scrambled out of the car as gunshots rang out.
I turned to Marcie.
“Baby girl, get down on the floor between the rows and don’t get up until Daddy or I say it’s okay,” I ordered her, unbuckling her seatbelt and helping her to the floor.
“Papi!” she sobbed. “What’s happening?” Her head swiveled, searching for Declan, if I had to guess. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Baby girl. Listen to me, okay? Get down.”
“I’m scared.”
I sighed. I was, too. The other part of my soul was out there and bullets were fucking flying, and our girl was in the thick of it with us.
“I know you are, colibrí, but I need you on the floor for me, okay. I’ve gotta help Daddy.”
She moved to the floor, finally , and I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“All the way down. Flatten yourself on the floor and stay put, colibrí. I mean it. Don’t move. Papi will be back for you,” I said before leaving the vehicle.
Looking out the front glass, I clocked the van, a guy behind the wheel, two assailants near the flipped SUV that Heidi, Scott, and Declan advanced toward with guns drawn.
Going out the passenger side, I dropped to the ground and rounded the vehicle with my sidearm out, safety off. It had been a long fucking time since I found myself in a goddamn gunfight.
Deep breath, Marine.
I looked over the SUV. A round zipped toward me, glancing off the hood.
“Motherfucker.”
I was going to kill that asshole as soon as I got a clear shot.
I dropped to my belly, inching toward Foster’s SUV. I was a sniper. That had been my job in the unit, accustomed to being in an overwatch position, away from the action, but a Marine was trained to fight. We were warriors. I just needed to get my fucking head outta my ass. Declan had trained to take care of himself and his protectee. I had to trust he knew what the fuck he was doing. Marcie was tucked somewhere safe, so I needed to fucking front sight focus and forget everything else.
Katie’s voice pierced the air. Screams and thrashing filled the gaps between the gunfire. There was only one active shooter. Two at the most.
Another couple of rounds fired off, and the pattern became clear—short bursts to conserve ammo and draw attention. Timed, patient, controlled.
Whoever fired that weapon had served. Or been trained by someone who had.
Fucking jack off.
I moved slowly toward the open air, hoping to catch sight of Declan and the others.
But when I stepped into the open, my stomach dropped. The asshole at the driver’s side door was the shooter, but it was the woman and man at the back of the van that had my full attention.
They had Katie and Jackson in their evil fucking clutches.
Unsure if the others could see what was happening from their location, I yelled, “Hold your fire unless you have a clear shot, goddammit! They have Kit Kat and Jackson.”
Ducking and running toward Declan and the others, I drew the shooter’s fire. The rounds bounced off the pavement at my feet. If the guy served, he was a shit ass shot.
Or he isn’t trying to hit anyone.
“You okay, vato?” I asked, giving him a quick look over.
“I’m fucking fine, but those fucksticks are shooting at us.”
“Yeah, I figured that out when they took a pot shot at my damn head.”
He turned and gave me the same once-over I gave him.
“Where’s Marcie?”
“On the floor of the truck.” I popped my head up over the downed SUV. A shot rang, pinging off the metal.
Declan jerked me down.
“Keep your fool ass head down. They’ve already taken one shot at you, and you don’t have a helmet on.”
“We need that license plate,” I said.
“We’ve got it. The SUV has a dash cam. Not that I think that van is legal.”
At least we agreed on that. Tires squalled and the van peeled out. I stepped from behind the SUV, lining up the sights, wishing I had my rifle, and squeezed off several rounds, hoping to take out the tires at the very least, but preferably the driver.
When the van disappeared out of sight, I turned back to the others.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Heidi and Lucia came toward us.
“How’s your medic training, Sergeant?”
“It’s been a while. What’s wrong?”
“Foster wasn’t buckled in.”
Fuck.
“Conscious? Do you have a bus en route?”
“Semi. And yes.”
“Good. Is Scott with him?”
“Yes. He says Foster’s okay but thinks he’s concussed and has either a broken clavicle or a broken arm.”
“Scott can handle Foster, we’ve gotta figure out what to do. So, lemme ask again, what’s the fucking plan?”
They looked at each other and I knew, without a doubt, I wouldn’t like their stupid ass plan.
“You’re gonna let them drive away?” I asked.
“They’re wearing trackers,” Heidi said.
I swore. As if technology never fucking failed.
“And if they figure that out or they quit transmitting?”
“We just have to pray that doesn’t happen? We’re down a car, we have an injured team leader, and the police will be here soon. If we leave…”
I knew they were right, but it grated on my nerves. I walked back to the SUV.
“Pequena, are you okay?”
“Papi?”
“Yeah, baby girl. C’mon outta there.”
She crawled out from between the seats. Smeared makeup covered her pretty face from the tears still pouring from her red-rimmed eyes. Her stuffed Squirts, both of them, remained clutched tightly in her hands as she made her way to me. As soon as she was close enough, I grabbed her. She threw her arms around my neck, and I settled her against my chest, relief flooding my system alongside the guilt I felt.
“Daddy?”
“He’s okay. Wanna go see him?”