Chapter 11 #2
His steps slowed, finally coming to a stop when he reached the worn floor mat centered in front of the cabin’s rear exit. Using the light in his left hand, Rafe took a page from Lena’s playbook and carefully checked the door’s latch, knob, hinges, and frame.
Satisfied there was no threat on the other side—especially since he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary during his search of the cabin’s perimeter—he placed the unlit end of the pocket flashlight between his teeth and shifted his weight forward.
His boot had barely moved when the section of floor beneath the mat suddenly flexed and dropped under his weight.
Rafe went completely still.
The click that followed seemed deafening in the quiet cabin. Recognition came instantly, followed by a cold rush of dread.
A pressure-plate bomb.
He’d heard the same sound once before. As long as he kept his weight steady and his foot exactly where it was, nothing should happen. The moment he lifted his boot, however—
Kaboom!
Rafe let his eyelids fall shut. Adrenaline and fear surged through him, chased by a heartache that was far more painful than either. The next few seconds stretched into an unbreathable eternity as thoughts, memories, and half-formed plans raced through his mind.
His first thought was of Alice, but he pushed his emotions aside and concentrated on calculating his odds of survival. Unfortunately, this wasn’t his first encounter with a pressure plate.
Ignorance truly is bliss.
The first time was decades ago, during a mission that had taken Rafe and his MI6 team deep into the Venezuelan jungle. He’d been fourth in a single-file formation when their team leader suddenly stopped moving.
Once they realized what had happened, Rafe and the others went straight to work. Their goal was to get their leader off the pressure plate without triggering the bomb. In the end, they’d agreed to spread out into the trees in search of heavy branches they could use to offset the man’s weight.
Rafe remembered hauling back the biggest pieces of wood he could carry.
The jungle air had been thick with humidity, and mosquitoes and other flying insects had swarmed around them relentlessly.
But none of it had mattered. He and the others had been too focused on keeping their team leader alive to notice the heat, insects, or sweat running down their backs.
He’d been the first one to return with his load, certain they’d found a way to save their friend’s life. Unfortunately, the man on the bomb had decided his life wasn’t worth risking theirs.
Rafe could still see the look in the brave man’s eyes the moment the decision was taken from the team’s hands.
I can still hear the explosion.
Even now, some nights, his most vivid nightmares brought back the bite of that heat against his skin. The sound. The shock wave. The terrible finality of it all.
And now I’m the one standing here, knowing this is how my story ends.
This was it. After decades of close calls and frequently putting his life on the line, his luck had finally run out. There was only one way this ended, and it wasn’t with him walking away.
Rafe let his eyes close. Memories of his precious Alice filled his mind, and his chest physically ached. The pain from his death would be so severe.
She doesn’t deserve this. She’s already lost too much.
First her mother and now him. Both parents taken by sudden, violent deaths.
Alice has Slade. The other members of the team. Their women. She’s strong, and she’ll be okay.
His daughter was one of the toughest people he knew, resilient to her very core. Still, Rafe knew his sweet Alice would need time to grieve.
Just not too much, he prayed.
He wanted his only child to move on with her life. To enjoy every moment she had with Slade. To understand that it was okay to laugh and live.
I’m so sorry my precious girl.
A tear slipped from the corner of one eye. Rafe carefully wiped it away with his shoulder. If he was truly about to die, he refused to waste the few minutes he had left crying.
You need to let Lena know and then get her the hell out of this cabin.
Regret surged through him at the thought of her. Even after all these years, Lena was still the only woman who had ever made him wonder—
What if?
The years between them didn’t matter. Neither did the mistakes, secrets, or the lives they’d lived apart until now. Standing and waiting to die, Rafe’s only thoughts were of the future.
The one he’d secretly dreamed of but was likely lost to him forever. If second chances were real, he wouldn’t hesitate to chase one that included Lena with everything that he had.
Your future may be lost, but hers can still be saved.
With a mental shake, Rafe’s attention returned to the final mission of his life—getting Lena out of the cabin before the bomb beneath his foot detonated. Moving oh-so-cautiously, he spun in a torturously slow circle so he was facing the kitchen, rather than the back door.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he called out in his most authoritative voice.
“Lena? I need you to come here.”
A few hard heartbeats later, he heard her moving down the hall.
“Where are you?” she hollered back.
“In the kitchen.”
Her footsteps quickened as she hurried from the bedroom. When she appeared in the doorway, it was almost as if he was seeing her for the very first time.
Rafe stood motionless, his gaze taking in the moonlit goddess before him. Her eyes were swollen from crying over the loss of her friend, and it tore at him to know he was about to make an already unbearable night even worse.
She’d lost three colleagues and friends, and now he had to tell her she was minutes from losing him, too.
Get her the hell out!
Lena started toward him, but he threw up a hand and stopped her mid-stride.
“Don’t,” he ordered. “Don’t come any closer.’
Her brows drew together as she took a cautious step back. “Why?” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “What’s wrong?”
Rafe looked down at his feet. “It’s rigged to blow. There’s a pressure plate beneath the rug.”
She followed his line of sight. “How sure are you?”
“I could lift my foot and prove it to you, and prove it to you, if you’d like.”
Her gaze met his once more. “So what’s the plan?”
Despite the danger surrounding them, Rafe allowed himself seconds they didn’t have to become lost in her hazel eyes. There was no panic in them. Not even a flicker of fear as she stared death in the face.
I wish I had more time with her. I wish we had more time together.
Time was a strange thing, especially when yours was running out. Only seconds passed, but in that moment, it felt to him as if the world had suddenly stopped turning.
Rafe’s thoughts returned to that night in his den and the kiss that had left a permanent mark on his soul. At the time, he’d truly believed pushing Lena away was the right thing to do. His way of protecting her from a man whose heart had been locked away for far too many years.
But now—
I wish I’d pulled her closer, instead.
Moving carefully, he reached into his pocket for his keys. Once they were in his hand, Rafe gave Lena a silent warning before tossing them toward her.
Rafe watched the keys disappear into Lena’s hand.
“Take them.” His order was low but calm. “Go straight to Alice and Slade’s.”
Her fingers curled around the keys, but she didn’t move.
“Rafe—”
“Listen to me.” He kept his voice firm but steady, despite the panic clawing at his insides. “You get to their house, and you stay there. Don’t stop anywhere on the way.”
The tank was full before they left the plantation, so she wouldn’t even need to refuel.
Her gaze searched his. “And once I’m there? Just so I’m clear on exactly what it is you’re asking me to do.”
A swell of emotion rushed into his throat, but Rafe hurriedly cleared it away. “I need you to deliver a message from me to my daughter.”
The color drained from Lena’s beautiful face as full understanding finally sank in. “No.”
“She needs to hear it from you.”
“Rafe, no.”
“Tell Alice I’m sorry.” His throat tightened, but he forced the words out. “Tell her it’s going to be okay and remind her she has Slade, the team, and their women. People who love her and will make sure she won’t have to face any of this alone.”
Lena’s eyes filled with glistening tears. “Rafe, stop.”
He’d love nothing more, but—