Delta: Revenge (19 page)

Voices surrounded him. But their directed shouts were simply white noise. He focused on her, connecting his eyes to hers. Sophia Cole was the only thing worth focusing on in this angry melee of PC supporters that he otherwise might want to destroy.

Their eyes locked. Awareness dawned on her face. He was her savior in the surrounding hell. “Coming for you,” he said.

She likely couldn’t hear him and didn’t smile. But her fight stalled as though she knew he was there to protect her from trafficking scum.

Sophia jolted, pushed from the side into Hana. As much as he didn’t want to care about this ally, he had to. Hana was important to the Americans. Important to somebody. She had to be saved from the business end of the barrel under her chin whether Javier could find it in his heart to agree or not.

Ryder came broadside from the right, ripping the gun from the man’s grip and disarming the asshole before he saw it coming. Javier let his fist fly into Hana’s aggressor. Damn, it felt good to throw the left hook—the impact, the power, and the gutted, unexpected sound of defeat. Adrenaline surged in Javier’s blood as he took a breath, embracing the high of the hit, and only then was he able to turn to Sophia. Like a junkie, he’d had to get his fix before rescuing her. He didn’t even know he was craving it. But she as much threw herself to him as he grabbed her, and damn again, having her in his arms was better than a punch to a PC piece of shit.

“Target acquired,” Gray said loud and clear through Javier’s earpiece. “Hana Ferrera too.”

What else were they going to do—leave the woman to die by a criminal mob because she’d helped the United States?

Javier needed to interrogate her to know what she and Sophia had worked on. But with Sophia clinging to his body, all that could wait. The world could hang tight so long as he held her close. His hold wouldn’t last nearly long enough, and he couldn’t explain the desperation in it, but for now, he’d savor it.

Grayson ran crowd interference. Ryder had Hana, and Brock ordered them to get a move on.

“Javier. God. Thank you.”

Holding Sophia’s weight soothed a rip in his chest he hadn’t realized was tearing. Between the exasperated, horrified tears and her hands gripping his chest, he wanted to kiss her calm. “Take a breath, paixão. You’re okay.”

“It happened so fast. I don’t know what it was, but God, thank you.”

A man faced down Javier. The anger emanating from Javier and the growl that promised a painful encounter made his potential combatant step aside. “Anything for you.”

He saw a glass bottle flying toward them out of the corner of his eye. Javier hunched over Sophia, turning as it hit his shoulder with a heavy impact.
Freaking mob law right now.
The police were meters away.
This
was why the PC had to go down and why Honduras had the reputation it did.

The bottle shattered at his heels when it hit the sidewalk. More bottles bumped and bruised them.

“What is wrong with people?” It was less a question and more exasperation. Whatever Sophia had done to earn this job, she’d likely never been the center of a throng of angry criminals.

“Just—why?” Fright scratched her words, and fear made her hiss rhetorical questions that he had no answer for.

“It’s over now,” he murmured, cradling her like a baby as they pushed through the last ring of the crowd, his lips brushing her temple. “I’ve got you.”

He knew every calming word said to her was broadcast by his mic, but some things didn’t matter.

“Those
assholes
.” Her snap was muffled with the sniffle of tears. Her bravery was fast fading, and the shock of it all was hitting with brutal force. One second, Sophia was thankful, and the next, she gripped him, sobbing into his shoulder as he carried her away from hostiles, giving no fucks that she could get down and walk on her own.

“God, Javier.” Her voice cracked, and he held her tighter.

“The world is ugly, Soph.” It was the only thing he could offer, because he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to acknowledge her risks and the worthiness of her being in danger, or school her on how miserable the world really was. He could teach a class on that, the PC, and how the two were intertwined. But now he just had to hang on to her. Revenge for this, just like for his sister, would come later.

“I hate this place sometimes,” she whispered into his chest.

“Me too.”
Not for the same reasons, but still.
Hatred had grown where his heart should’ve been.

The earpiece crackled. Brock gave Ryder directions for how to handle Hana. She was to go to a different location. Who or where Hana would be protected by wasn’t Javier’s interest. Sophia would flip—he’d bet on it—but returning her to US territory, to the protection of the embassy’s sovereign ground, was his top priority.

Grayson flanked him as they rounded a corner. There was their ride. Brock manned the driver’s seat, and in one smooth move, Gray opened the back door for Javier and Sophia then jumped in behind. Brock hit the gas, pulling a U-ie in the middle of the road. Ryder appeared, hustling down the sidewalk sans Hana, and jumped into the front passenger seat as Brock slowed enough to make it happen.

“Wait.” Sophia stiffened against Javier. “Where’s Hana?”

“Safe,” Brock replied, not turning his head and turning down a side street.

“
Where
is she?”

Javier squeezed his arm around her, hoping to calm her down. Hana could be in any number of places: in a safe house, with an auxiliary team, or with a friend or ally. Delta wasn’t going to let her die by the hands of a street mob, but that didn’t mean Hana and Sophia were afforded the same protections.

“She’s safe, Soph.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“Later.”

Tense seconds hung in the air until her shoulders sank. “What in the hell happened to cause all this?”

“Don’t know much,” Javier mumbled. “Leaks move fast in an electronic world.”

“We were outed?” Her gaze shifted from him to Grayson. “Well, obviously. Okay.” She took a deep breath then slammed her hands into her hair, hunching over and groaning. “Damn it! Damn it.”

He let a hand rest on her back, wishing there was a better way to offer comfort.

“No.” She shook her head. “You don’t understand. They’re going to
kill
her. And I failed.” Sophia’s head snapped up, and her eyes locked to his. “I
failed
.”

“No. I promise.”

She shook her head, dropping it again, burying her fists into her eyes, and tried to hide the sniffle. Whether this round of emotion was fueled by anger at the world or anger with herself, he didn’t care.

“All I do is let her down.”

“Hana? There’s no way she’s blaming you for this.” It was clear that if the intelligence breach were Sophia’s fault or if she wasn’t strong enough for the job, she wouldn’t be in the field with an asset of Hana’s caliber.

“No. Not Hana.” The smallness in her voice shook the car. “My mother.”

***

Javier took Sophia’s hand and exited the vehicle. He tucked her in front of him while Gray and Ryder flanked, Brock leading their charge to safety inside the embassy.

The guarded doors swung open, their arrival expected. Brackster and Jensen waited in the lobby, both of their faces tight with remorse, but it was Sophia’s disappointed voice that offered apologies.

“Nonsense,” the ambassador said, but Janella took over the situation.

“Upstairs.” She bustled through the pack of suits and soldiers. “Unless it’s a matter of international security, this girl is coming with me.”

Air conditioning rolled over Javier’s skin as he took a step, uneasy to have someone pulling his girl from his chest.

“Are you alright?” Janella’s worried pitch sounded like the way his insides hurt. “Is she alright?” she asked him, not waiting for Sophia to answer.

Javier grumbled. “Too close.”

Grayson and Ryder peeled off as Javier stuck with Sophia and Janella.

“Report in later,” Brock ordered, following Gray.

Javier nodded but never slowed as he and Janella shuffled a silent Sophia toward her bedroom suite.

Janny opened the door and stood back, letting Javier lead Sophia in. Sophia shrugged out of his hold and made for her bed, crawling on top of the covers, a desolated emptiness haunting her eyes. “They’re going to kill Hana.”

“Focus on you right now.”

Janella nodded, taking a throw blanket off the chair and tossing it over Sophia. “What hurts on you? Did they touch you?” She turned to him, one eyebrow cocked high.

He shook his head. No, they hadn’t hurt her physically. But she’d been touched in a way that was certain to change her. Fuck the PC for that. One more reason to make his hatred for them grow.

“Everything hurts, Janny,” Sophia said. And then the devastating reality of this fucked-up part of the world took over. Sniffles and tears wracked her.

Javier perched on the floor to stay eye level with her pillow as Janny moved to the opposite side of the bed and rubbed her back in silence. Together, they let her cry until she had nothing left.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Javier perched on the edge of the chair while Sophia slept. After she cried, he’d let her drift away. Janella had slipped out quietly, leaving him to watch her tear-stained face. Her tangled hair sprawled against the plain pillow, and her pink lips were cracked as though she had nervously bitten the bottom one.

Even after she slept, the tear-stained marks remained as a reminder that she’d been terrified and he’d almost been too late.

What if he hadn’t been there at all? But he had, and—

Sophia’s eyelashes fluttered, and her hands slowly lifted to press her temples. A tiny whimper left her lips as she woke. “Hey.”

Her scratchy voice was too quiet, and he knew by the worry in her gaze that she was thinking about the ugly side of life that she’d witnessed.

“Hey, you.”

A half smile flickered. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Paixão, I don’t want you here either.”

She closed her eyes and rolled to her back, stretching her legs then tugging up the blanket. Her face tilted toward him. “Do you know what happened to Hana?”

He sighed. “A lot happened today. There wasn’t just a leak about your work with her. It’s more global than that.”

“Is she okay?”

Javier nodded.

“And protected?”

He nodded again. “Yes.”

“Good. That’s important.”

“Jensen’s itching to talk to you, but I’d say Whispering Willow is done.”

Her mouth parted. “You know about that?”

Javier shook his head. “No. Just that you are more than an aid worker, and she’s part of the problem.”

“Opposite, really.” Sophia sat up, leaning against the headboard and tucking the blanket over her knees. “It’s important we get back to work.”

“If your op is done, won’t you head home?”

“I want to stay.”

His chest cranked tight. “Sophia…” Now wasn’t the time to wage this battle, and she might not have the stamina to put up with it. But Sophia on a job in Honduras, doing more than humanitarian aid or fluff? That didn’t sit with him well. “Talk to Jensen, and deal with that later.”

“I guess.” Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. Beautiful brown eyes jumped to him then away, then back again. “So.”

“So.”

Her eyebrows went up. “I…” Brows dropped, but her shoulders went up instead, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

“What do you need, Sophia?”

“I need…” She straightened her posture, smoothing her hair as though suddenly aware that she looked as though she’d been dragged through a mob. “A shower.”

“You’ll be okay to do that? We didn’t talk yet, but you didn’t hit your head or anything, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, give me a minute.” He pushed off the chair, muscles aching from his hours-long watch, and walked to the attached bathroom. With a quick look around, he turned on the shower to let it warm up and returned. “It’s steaming up. I’ll be out here just in case.”

“I’m fine. But—”

“Give me this. I’m not trying to make a move. Just worried. Okay?”

Her eyes went wide.

“Let me be here to make sure you’re okay.”

“Javier—”

“I guess I could wait outside, or really just come back, so—”

“Join me.”

Oh. Damn. A dozen thoughts rushed. Most notably, he didn’t have a condom, nor did he want to screw her as much as he wanted to hold her, naked against him, and reassure himself over and over that she was safe.

“Please?”

“God, you don’t have to say please,
tesão
.”

“One, two, three; we take off our shirts.”

He laughed and stripped it off before she could say another word.

“Cheater,” she said.