Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9) (19 page)

BOOK: Betrayed (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 9)
12.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“That would only solve part of the problem. No. If she’s with Rycroft, then he’ll know she’s got evidence. If he doesn’t know about the safety deposit box already, he will soon, either because she tells him or because his people will uncover it. Our best bet is for you to stay close and wait for them to come to you.”

Still seemed like a long shot, but he had no other leads and he was being paid well to sit on his ass and wait. “Roger that. You still that sure she’ll be with Bautista?”

A snort. “Yeah, I’m sure. Stay there. If they show, put them both down.”

“I will.”

Nico drove to a concealed spot across the street from the bank and settled in to wait. Waiting was boring as shit, but it might be his only chance to get his targets.

His rifle lay hidden in the floor of the backseat, cleaned and loaded and his hands itched to use it.

Patient. He had to be patient, take all emotion and excitement out of the equation. It was the only way he could kill his prey.

He imagined seeing that big deposit in his secret bank account. Imagined the clear, turquoise waters of the Maldives while he and Melissa lay on deck chairs at their private villa and stared out at the ocean, side by side. Imagined the love and joy in her eyes as he stripped her black bikini off her and covered her body with his own.

He blew out a breath, came back to the present. “Hurry up already,” he muttered. Just one solid lead, and he’d finally hunt his targets down.

And this time, they would both die.

 

****

 

Because you’re all mine.

The sheer possessiveness behind his words both shocked and thrilled Georgia. She knew she should be a whole lot more upset about being kept here against her will, but lying wrapped up in Miguel’s arms right now after months of grieving his death, it was hard to care.

As was the fact that they hadn’t used any protection. She was rigorous about getting her monthly birth control shot though.

“I still can’t believe you’re alive,” she murmured. Those months she’d mourned his loss had been the darkest of her life.

“I thought what we just did in the bathroom was pretty solid proof of that, but if you want another demo, I’d be happy to show you again right now.” He nuzzled the side of her neck.

His teasing tone made her smile. “Wish we could.” They’d stolen this time together but couldn’t hide in here much longer.

She’d give anything to stay in here and make the rest of the world go away. With Miguel holding her like this she felt safe for the first time in…maybe ever. “But I’m sure the others are wondering what’s going on up here.”

He snorted softly. “I don’t care what they think, but I’m pretty sure they already know.” He pulled back, gave her a startled smile. “Wait. Are you blushing?”

“No.” She hid her face against his chest.

A low chuckle rumbled beneath her cheek. “You totally are, you’re blushing.” He sounded amazed by that.

She poked him in the ribs. “So what if I am?”

“You’re a professional assassin. How can you blush about other people knowing we just had sex?”

“Well I don’t… I haven’t had much experience in this area.”

“Define ‘area’.”

She made a frustrated sound, fought the urge to wriggle away. “
This
,” she said, snuggling in closer. He felt amazing, so warm and solid, and he truly cared about her. She felt protected. The whole thing was surreal. “And I don’t spend a lot of time around other people, so I tend to be on the socially awkward side.”

“One more thing we have in common,” he said dryly. “But I have to ask you, because I’ve been dying to know. How much of Julia was actually you? Because back in Miami, socially awkward was the last thing I would ever have called you.”

It was a good question, and one she’d wrestled with herself. “She’s definitely part of me.” The kinder, softer pieces of herself that she’d been taught long ago to hide from the rest of the world. “I guess…she’s the person I wish I could have been, if I hadn’t been recruited into the program. Warm. Kind. Passionate. Normal.”

Free
, she thought with a pang.

Georgia forced back the rush of emotion she felt at the word and concentrated on the present. Being with Miguel again was a gift she’d never expected to have again and she was determined to enjoy it to the fullest, not get caught up in thinking about what she couldn’t have and that this couldn’t last.

“I liked being her, even if it was only for a little while. I miss being those things sometimes.”

“But you are those things,” he murmured against her hair. “At least with me. And trust me, you’re by far the sexiest, most passionate woman I’ve ever met.”

“Just with you I’m those things,” she clarified. “And maybe I’m normal to Briar and Trin, too.” Because she trusted them. And because face it, none of them were
normal
.

Georgia held her breath, mentally cursing herself for being so stupid as to reveal that weakness to him.

But rather than exploit it, Miguel made a sound of understanding and kissed the top of her head. “I want you to be exactly who you are around me. And if it makes you feel any better, I let you see parts of me that no one else ever had.”

She nodded, taking comfort in that. “I know. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me neither, believe me.” His voice was wry. “You were damn good, slipping under my radar like that. And then you slipped under my skin.” He stroked her hair.

He’d slipped far deeper than just beneath
her
skin. He’d buried himself in her heart.

They were quiet for a few moments, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It had to be strange for him, since she knew all about him and his background and he knew next to nothing about her, except for what she’d let him see in Miami.

“So what’s the significance of the tattoo?” He trailed his fingers over the tat on her left hip. About the size of a silver dollar, it depicted a black crow with a sword held in its talons and
Valkyrja
written inside a stylized scroll beneath it.

Half-draped over him in the bed with one arm around his ribs and her cheek resting on the hard curve of his left pec, she never wanted to move again. “It’s the mark of the Valkyries,” she explained. “It means ‘chooser of the slain’ in Old Norse. Or something like that. We all got one when we graduated from the program. Like a symbol of solidarity or something.” She’d liked being a Valkyrie, for the most part. The trainers had been careful to make them believe they were elite, that their status as one of the exclusive members of the program was something to be honored about. But it was a hard life, and a damn lonely one.

“How many of you were there?”

“No one knows for sure. The program was in a test phase when Briar, Trinity and I graduated. Lots of girls washed out and we never saw them again. As to the number who completed the program, only a few people know that.” One of them being Rossland. “But I think there were around fourteen of us or so.”

“How old were you when they recruited you?”

“Eleven.” Not much older than he’d been when his grandmother had been viciously assaulted in her own home. She knew Miguel had been the one to find her like that. Her heart hurt thinking of the innocent little boy he’d been, all the pain he’d suffered.

His hand moved from her hip to her lower back, the weight of his palm against her skin warm, soothing. “What happened?”

She hated talking about her past. It wasn’t a pretty story and she didn’t want his pity. Still, she trusted him enough to tell him the truth. “I was dumped at an orphanage as a toddler. No one knew what happened to my parents but from what I found out, my mother was a hooker and a drug addict. Better that she gave me up.”

He made a low sound that told her he was listening.

“I was put into the foster system when I was five. It…didn’t go well. I had anger and trust issues. The short version is, I got bounced around from home to home until one day a woman showed up and took me to a special school at age eleven. I didn’t realize then that it was a secret CIA program. I was assigned to Frank when I was fifteen.” Seemed like another lifetime ago now, but it helped that Miguel would understand, being that he’d been through the foster system as well.

“You were close to him.”

She nodded, a sharp pain lancing through her as the memories flooded in. “He was a good man. He never married or had children, so he treated me like I was his own daughter.” It made her think of her first Christmas with him. He’d insisted she come and stay at his house, had the guest room all done up when she arrived. They’d decorated a tree together.

It almost made her teary now, thinking of it. Before that, the last time she could remember putting up a tree was at the orphanage. And in the morning, the stocking he’d hung for her on the fireplace was full and there had been presents for her under the tree. She’d felt bad that she hadn’t gotten him anything but he’d just smiled and sipped his coffee, watching her open her gifts while carols played in the background.

“I would have done anything for him,” she whispered, feeling the loss all over again.
But I couldn’t save him.

That soothing hand ran up her spine, back down again, bringing her back to the present. Hands capable of killing, of inflicting such pain that a man would tell him his darkest secrets and then beg him for death to end the suffering. And yet he’d only ever touched her and his grandmother with gentleness. “I’m sorry he’s gone.”

“Me too.” She’d always miss him.

“How did he die?”

“Hydrogen cyanide poisoning.” It killed her to think of him dying that way, suffocating, alone and panicked, clawing at his throat as he struggled for air. She’d found his body less than an hour after he’d died and she’d never forgive herself. “If I’d realized the threat an hour sooner, I might have been able to save him.”

Miguel rolled her onto her side facing him and cradled the back of her head while he stared into her eyes. And she was not imagining the intent, hard light in his gaze. “Who did it?”

The buried anger in his voice surprised her. “People from the program who I’d trusted at one time,” she answered simply. “I found out that they used enforcers within the Fuentes network for the hits so they could distance themselves from the murders, let the cartel pros do the dirty work for them.”

And the men remaining on her list would die for that.

“That’s why you took out Garcia, and why you wanted Villa. Because you found out Garcia ordered Villa to kill them,” he finished.

There was no way she was going to actually admit to killing Garcia, but it was enough that he knew the truth. She broke eye contact, focused on the scars at the top of his chest where one of the bullets had hit him. “There was one more enforcer involved.”

“Who?”

He wasn’t going to like this. She took a deep breath before answering. “Someone connected to Perez.”

She felt him stiffen against her. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“I know. I meant someone else.” She looked up in time to see his eyebrows draw together.

“I was his chief enforcer. If Perez or anyone connected to him had been involved, I would have known. I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

“I believe you,” she soothed. “But I have evidence that shows Perez was using someone else for the job.”

He looked so stunned by the news that she almost felt badly for telling him. “Who? And why? He barely ever used anyone besides me for jobs.” he demanded, his urgency clear.

She shook her head. “You know I can’t tell you that.” Not yet, anyway.

Thankfully he didn’t get angry at her refusal. “Why would former members of the program want two of their own handlers dead?”

“I’m not sure how much you know, but there was a former Valkyrie Project trainer involved with illegal arms deals. Will Balducci. Last December he sent me to kill Briar, saying she’d gone rogue.”

The shock in his eyes was unmistakable.

She nodded. “Luckily I failed and Briar was able to prove to me that Balducci was not only a liar, but dirty. I tracked him down after that, was going to take him out but then Briar showed up with Rycroft and the FBI’s HRT and I had to back down. He’s rotting away in prison right now.”

“I heard about it. He was high up in the CIA.”

“Yes.” She let out a breath. “Rycroft arrested me that night but let me go shortly thereafter because there wasn’t enough evidence to hold me. Over the next few months I uncovered a trail of evidence that proved Balducci had hired Fuentes enforcers to kill Janaia—Briar’s handler. I knew there had to be others involved so I called Frank immediately, was on my way to meet him and turn over the evidence when he was murdered.”

She swallowed, remembering the pain she’d felt upon finding his body lying on the floor. “I vowed then and there to find out who else was involved and expose them. Turns out the players involved wanted Janaia and Frank dead to cover up the Valkyrie program. But it wasn’t just that. They wanted
everyone
involved with the Valkyrie Project eliminated, including me, Briar and Trinity because we knew about Balducci’s back door arms deals in the Middle East.”

Miguel shifted suddenly, rolling her to her back and bracing one arm over her, looming above her in the bed. “Don’t run anymore. Let me help you. Let
us
help you. We’ll get them. But we’ll do it together.”

She was so torn, could feel herself caving more with each second she spent with him. “I don’t want to endanger any of you. They’ll keep coming after me until one of them kills me.”

“Then come away with me. We’ll—” He stopped short.

“We’ll what?”

He let out a harsh sigh. “I can’t go with you. They implanted a tracking device on me somewhere. I don’t know where it is. I’ve searched for it, but can’t find it, so it has to be really small.” He searched her eyes. “But I can still get you out of the country. I’ve got connections, people who owe me favors. You could leave and start over somewhere else where you won’t be in danger once everyone involved is dealt with.”

Her answer was immediate and adamant. “I’m not leaving you behind. No way.” Too many emotions were bombarding her. Walking away from him now would break her.

Other books

Her Way by Jarman, Jessica
Murder in a Hurry by Frances and Richard Lockridge
Big Cherry Holler by Adriana Trigiani
Grasping For Freedom by Debra Kayn
The PuppetMaster by MacNair, Andrew L.
Til Death Do Us Part by Beverly Barton