Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) (19 page)

"Annie finally told me last night—
she's
the one Phil is after. She and her boys-" Hank hesitated, his face flushed with anger. "Damn it, Jeff— they
live
here. Annie volunteers because she's a
client
at New Beginnings."

Shock jolted through him as he remembered Hector's words. Two friends . . . and their dad who hit them. In no way had he ever suspected it could be Annie. Sure, he'd wondered why she was always there— seeming to volunteer twelve hours a day. Yet, it absolutely made sense. Her troubled demeanor, her suspicion of him at the beginning.

But— she hadn't looked like a victim. The arrogance of his thoughts slapped him upside the head.
What does a victim look like, Jeff?
He didn't know jack about abused women. And thinking about it now made him uncomfortable. All this time, they could have been helping her— helping the staff protect her.

"Mari never said anything."

Hank's eyes were troubled. "That's why I have such a hard time gettin' her to leave. She's afraid he'll grab the kids. He's threatened to grab her— and force her to go back to him."

"But they're divorced, right?"

"Yeah— but he's one of those control freaks-" He ran a large hand over his military crewcut. "Claims she's his property and he'll never let go. The poor girl spends her time runnin' from one shelter to the next— never able to live a normal life. Tommy and Jason— they keep changing schools . . . changing friends. It's not right." His sigh was one of frustration. "Did ya know she's a nurse?"

"No kidding? So— he even prevents her from earning a living?" Anger smoldered through him. Between Hector’s mother and the news about Annie— it was all getting to be too much. The unfairness of it all. And the tangled mess of a legal system that was overloaded and ineffective. Annie could have a life— a good life. Her kids could be enrolled in a permanent school— living in a real home. Playing baseball and making friends. If that bastard would just leave them alone.  

Hank stared at him for several seconds, his eyes speaking volumes. Jeff waited him out— knowing when he finally spoke, it would be something important. "I'm thinkin' I might do something about it." 

Jeff stilled. He'd been thinking along the same lines— about cutting through the red tape strangling Hector. He'd contacted Specialty's attorneys to see what Mari's options were, but had learned the process was slow. It was so damned frustrating. And it was destroying Marisol. She was edgy and tense. She jumped when he entered the room— almost fearful of him. He hated seeing her so defenseless. "What do you have in mind?"

Hank's gaze was somber. "I'm thinkin' of tracking him down. Should be a piece 'a cake. Tail him a day or two— get a bead on his routine."

Jeff's pulse ticked up. "Hank— you can't kill him."

His expression hardened. "I won't need to kill him. Just scare the bejeezus out of him— like he’s doin’ to her." Hank settled into his chair, warming to the subject. "Big man— beatin' up on a woman. He's hit the boys too— when they tried to protect her." His face flushed with anger. "Frankly— I think I'd enjoy scarin' the shit out of him."

Hesitating only a moment, Jeff's sense of control slowly shifted back into place— for the first time in days. "Why don't I give Charlie a call? He could probably give us a few off-the-record pointers. You know . . . so you don't do anything that gets you arrested."

"If it gets Phil out of her life, I don't much give a damn." Hank stroked the salt and pepper whiskers on his chin. "The way I figure— Annie won't relax until he's out of the picture. I don't like seeing her scared all the time. And I really like her, Jeff. I like her boys. And they like me."

Jeff smiled. "I'm really happy for you."

"Every time we're together— those boys just drink it up. They want to live at the farm. Hell— they wanna go to school in one place for a whole year." Retrieving his pencil, Hank drummed it on the table. "They want me to marry their mom. And I’m thinkin’ I do, too."

"Whoa— Freeman . . . slow down. You've been seeing her for what? Eight weeks?" Jeff didn't know whether he should be happy for his friend or perform an intervention on him.

"You're a whole lot younger than me, Jeffie. Me and Annie are in a different place. I've been alone a long time— too long. And Annie hasn't had much of a life these past few years. First an abusive husband— then being on the run. She has kids to raise. And I can help raise them. I want to help," he emphasized. He paused. "You've never been in it for the long haul with anyone— but I have. And it's a great feeling. I never thought I'd find it again after Gayle passed. But I really miss it. And I finally want it back." 

His friend's truthful comment found its mark. But the twinge of jealousy he experienced left him baffled. At least Hank knew what he wanted. Jeff had never had
anyone
in his life he’d wanted around permanently. Anyone he could envision being around a few
months
— never mind a lifetime.  

Mari was the first woman he’d ever actually chased. And once he’d caught her— Jeff had surprised himself. By continuing to pursue her. Hell— he'd been as surprised as everyone else. Yet, he'd stayed in the game. Even when Marisol would have ended it— he'd pushed back. He'd actually fought to stay in. The old Jeff would have turned and run.

All the stuff he'd viewed as strings tying him down didn’t feel like it anymore— at least not with Marisol. For the first time, his instinct had been to jump in. To take on more. To become . . . necessary to her. Like she and Hector were becoming necessary to him?

His brain had skirted the issue for days. Because thinking about her made him nervous. And Jeff wasn't sure why. Could he commit to one woman? Could he be a good father to Hector? Was he even ready? How the hell did anyone ever know for sure?

What made him more uptight— what made his stomach four-chili-dog queasy was imagining them with someone else. If he messed up with Mari— she'd dump him and move on. She was beautiful. Giving. An open heart. She was open to a relationship. To . . . marriage. The thought constricted his chest. Because she had Hector to look out for. And she wanted a family. Marisol would give all that love to someone . . . who wasn't him.   

What sent panic crashing through him was the sneaking realization that he might finally have someone in his life he couldn't bear to lose.

***

"Okay, gentlemen . . . just so we’re
all
clear." Sharon paused, waiting for the conversations to stop. Jeff poked Big Pete to get his attention. "What we’re doing here is slightly unorthodox. We do
not
make a habit of deputizing outsiders into service."

"We’re happy to help," Hank interrupted.

Sharon eyed him with humor. "I know, honey. But you boys have to understand we’re deviating from protocol here. So, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page."

"We understand you’re in an awkward position. We won’t do anything that could get New Beginnings in trouble." Jeff was relieved Sharon was willing to cooperate. How much help could the construction crew be when they didn’t know who to look for? "Pete’s the only one who’s seen Phil. And none of us know what Luz Covas looks like."

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Let’s just make sure Miss Sharon doesn’t lose her job in the process." Herding them into her office, she checked the hallway and shut the door before snapping on the television. "This first one is an interview with Luz Covas. It was taken late last week by DSS. You don’t need to hear what she’s saying—just see what she looks like."

She waited while the men focused on the set, memorizing her features. "Okay— this next one is taken from our security cameras the last time Phil was here trying to reach our client."

Jeff sensed Hank stiffen next to him. Tension crackled in the room as he stared at the set with the intensity of a welding torch.

Pete took a step closer, muttering as he stared at the screen. "That’s funny."

Sharon paused the footage. "What?"

"That’s when he entered through the side door." Pete pointed to the screen, placing Phil in the shot. "I was right there. And Miss Marisol . . . she was over here."

"That’s how I remember it too," Sharon agreed. "This is right before you cut him off."

"I can’t believe I missed it." Big Pete’s expression changed from the ever present scowl to one of agitation. That alone was enough to send warning jags down Jeff’s spine. But seeing Mari and Hector enter the frame . . . before Mari pushed Hector away had blood pounding in his ears. Terrifying was probably a better word for that.

"What is it, big guy?"

"I shoulda been flash-blasted for that." Pete took another step closer to the screen, his scowl fierce. "Look at his hand. When I blocked Miss Ortega— I was lookin’ at his face."

All eyes swiveled to Phil’s hand . . . to the knife he clutched, before slipping it into his trench coat as Pete’s hulking frame stepped in front of the camera.   

***

"Babe— what's going on?" Jeff hoped he sounded neutral, though he sure as hell wasn’t feeling that way.

"What do you mean?"

"You jump every time I walk in the room." After seeing that knife in Phil's hand, he wasn't sure he could ever feel neutral again when it came to Mari's safety.

She'd done it again— jerking back from him as though he were a stranger. And it stung. Sure— he'd surprised her, but Mari reacted as though he might hurt her. And Jeff didn't like it. He fucking hated it.

"I— you just startled me . . . that's all." Distracted, she focused on the document in her hands.

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

"Jeff— I'm preoccupied. I'm worried about Luz. I have donors who are late." Her eyes flashed with something close to guilt— which sent unease tracing through him. Was there something she wasn’t telling him?

"The construction is making
everyone
crazy with the noise and dust," he reassured. Three days into his new perspective on life, Jeff had reached the conclusion that the whole becoming-self-aware-thing was exhausting. Before Marisol, he’d never paid much attention to what a woman wanted. Because— selfishly, he now admitted, he was pretty much going to do whatever the hell he felt like doing. And women accepted it— or they were out of the picture.

But now, Jeff couldn’t imagine acting that way. It embarrassed him to remember the way he’d treated some women— perfectly nice women who’d deserved more consideration than he’d given. Not that he’d ever meant to hurt any of them . . . he just hadn’t cared enough to try.

Closing the distance, Jeff pulled her against him, relieved when she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck.
This
was the Marisol he knew. Her kiss heated and at the same time, soothed. Everything about her felt so right— so worth any effort. His fleeting stab of insecurity was laid to rest when she clung to him.

"Why didn't you tell me Annie lives here?"

Marisol pulled back to frown at him and he loosened his clasp on her waist. "We keep that information classified. To protect our clients. How did you find out?"

"She told Hank." Unable to resist her scent, he nuzzled her hair, dropping a kiss near her ear. Again, he experienced relief when her breath hitched in her throat. Whatever else was going on, Marisol was still attracted to him. And while it annoyed him to admit it, Jeff wasn't above using their explosive chemistry to remind her.

Her eyes registered surprise. "Wow— she must really like Hank to confide in him. That's a huge step for her." She smiled. "It's nice Annie trusts him so much."

Did Marisol trust
him
like that? Jeff frowned. Were there things she wanted to tell him . . . but kept to herself? The problem with all this new self-awareness was that it made him— aware. And doubtful. Of things he'd never doubted.

"Mari— our crew could protect Annie if we knew she was the one Phil was after." 

Unaware of his gloomy thoughts, she squeezed his hand. "You aren't here to protect the clients. You’re here to build them a wonderful new facility."

"You know what I mean." Frustration flared. "If that bastard shows up while I'm here, I'll take a two by four to his face."

She raised a brow. "
That's
why we keep our clients confidential. By the time women arrive here— they've lost everything. Their homes. Jobs. Even clothing. They have nothing left. Here— they keep their dignity. They volunteer to feel better about themselves and to learn skills they can possibly use in the job market. These women are
guests
. . . not people to be viewed as victims."

"While I get all that . . . you need to understand how we feel-"

Marisol frowned. "We?"

"Hank," he hastily substituted. Damn it— him, too, if he ever decided to man up and be honest with her. Jeff wanted the Hector issue settled. He wanted Mari back. He wanted-

"That’s what I thought." 

Disappointment slid through him when she confirmed his suspicion. Did she still view them as temporary? "Hank thinks he’s in love with Annie. If something happens that he could have prevented-"

"Jefferson-" She took his hands in hers. "We have to operate within the law. I
must
deal with Luz in a legal manner. I protect Hector from her— within the DSS guidelines this shelter operates under." She hesitated. "It doesn't mean I agree with it. I’d love to smuggle him away." She tightened her grip. "I’d
love
to hire a lawyer who could keep slamming Luz with orders she doesn't have the money to respond to."