SEAL Under Covers (SEAL Brotherhood Series Book 3) (25 page)

She pulled away, holding his head between her palms. The little crescent-shaped scar under one eye and the pulsing vein in his beautifully tanned forehead reminded her of how fragile life was. How she needed to seize the moment and take what she could. She gently leaned against the solid wall that was his chest, filled the space between her legs with the bulge in his pants, traced his lips with her thumbs and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she could give this man everything.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

“And I trust you,” he repeated.

She had to look away. But damn if he didn’t tilt her chin up towards the ceiling, “Hey, like I said, we’ll take it slow,” he murmured against her neck.

She whimpered inside. He obviously thought it was her fears about the sexual play she was hiding from.

Armando’s cell phone rang. “Damn.” He examined the screen and swore in Spanish. “It’s Mia.”

Gina could hear Mia’s frantic voice on the other end of the line. Then the unmistakable sounds of Carlos’s clipped Spanish.

“You fucking hurt her and you’re a dead man,” Armando screamed into the phone as he stepped back from Gina. He paced across the kitchen, giving orders in Spanish, swearing and tugging at his hair with his left hand.

“I don’t care anything about that. You don’t lay a hand on her, hear me?”

The line went dead. Armando looked like he was going to throw the phone at the wall, but thought better of it. Gina could see there was a deadly cat and mouse game going on.

“Tell me,” she begged. “I might be able to help.”

“No. You don’t want me involved in your stuff. You can’t get involved in this.”

“Armando, I’m—” she almost told him. “I’m so sorry, but you need to call the cops. They need to get involved right away. I have connections who might be willing to help.”

Armando looked at her as if she had three green heads. “Cops? Thought you didn’t like cops.”

The phone rang again before she could answer. He listened and then searched the kitchen for a tablet and pencil. He wrote down an address. Without looking up at her, he added, “I’ll be there in a half hour to forty minutes.”

He stood up straight and eyed her. “I guess our little party will have to wait.” His expression was flat and intent. He was not the same sex machine she had held in her arms just a few minutes before. His focus was on a mission, and she could see there wasn’t anything she could do to deflect him.

Gina realized that was what was different about the two of them. He had a mission in life. Nothing in the world would keep him from achieving it.

And she? She had a vision of a life that could have been. If she’d not been a cop. If she’d never lied to him about the reasons for her involvement with his sister. If she’d only had the strength to just stay away in the first place. Because, unlike him, she lived in a fantasy world, playing a part, acting tougher than she really was, pretending she was whole enough to be loved fully.

And he was the real deal.

“I’m going to take you back to your place, and then I’m going to be gone for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” He handed her the bag she had so quickly packed and had expected to use tonight.

“Don’t do this, Armando,” she said as she slung the bag over her shoulder.

“You think I can just sit back and let them take Mia?”

“It’s a trap.”

“I know it’s a fuckin’ trap, Gina. I’m not a kindergartener.” His irritation sent a spear through her chest. “I gotta get out of here.”

“I can stay here, wait for you.”

“No baby,” at last he softened. “I can’t have you here alone. God knows what’s going to go down, and I got stuff here you don’t want to know about. Besides, I’m not allowed.”

He raced down the hallway to the back bedroom.
His
room. He spoke to someone on the phone, then heard doors opening and knew the unmistakable sounds of equipment being stowed in zipped duty bags. The familiar mechanical clicks and noises she’d heard during her training told her he was loading up ammunition, checking gear created to cause deadly harm. And he was comfortable with it.

She looked down at the little bag of goodies and at thought about their precious night of lovemaking now lost. She set them on the kitchen table and waited by the back door. Armando rounded the corner, his shoulders filled with straps from three large black nylon bags. Without saying a word he opened the back door and allowed her to walk through first, then locked it behind them.

The inviting pool and yard looked out of place now. Today someone was in danger. The seedy underbelly of what was a picture-perfect Hollywood scene was creeping in and infecting the day.

He checked the length of the driveway first before crossing it to open up the back of his Hummer. He began stowing the bags and rearranging things while Gina let herself into the passenger side and waited. Soon Armando joined her and abruptly sped backwards out of the driveway onto the street.

This would have been a good time to tell him, she thought. But it might cloud his focus. She doubted he’d do anything stupid, not that having a truck illegally full of God knows what wasn’t already stupid. She couldn’t have stopped him. But she could make the call and have him arrested. And then he’d hate her even more and just go about doing whatever he had set out to do in the first place. And double that if anything happened to Mia.

She knew that coordinating a rescue would take time, time they did not have. Armando just might have a better chance of pulling it off. She hated to admit it, but she had more faith in his abilities than those of her own department. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. But the reality of it was, she did trust him more than she trusted the men and women in the Department.

“You didn’t hear or see anything. If stuff happens, you weren’t here, Gina.”

There he was again, worrying about her, what impact this would have on her.

“So, where are they holding her?” She thought maybe she might get lucky.

“I don’t know, some boat.”

“That would be Carlos’s yacht. Not a very safe place, Armando.”

“You know about his boat?”

“I’ve been on it,” Gina said and immediately saw the sadness in his eyes.

“More secrets, Gina? What else aren’t you telling me?”

“Don’t do this, Armando. I think it’s a sting. I think the cops are onto him. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

“I’m not afraid of crossfire. Hell, I’m prepared for that. I’m gonna have help. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone else rescue my sister and botch it up.”

“Please slow down for a second or two; I’ll tell you something about all of this. Just calm down.”

“Baby, later. Then you can explain everything to me. And this time, Gina, I want the full truth. No bullshit. You’re somehow involved. Are the cops looking for you too?”

“Yes.” She had to lie.

“You know anything about Mia being taken?”

“Absolutely no, Armando. I would never be involved in that.” She tried to place a hand on his shoulder, was going to move it up to his cheek. Armando angrily brushed her away.

“You were the decoy,” he said bitterly “They sent you to distract me so I’d take my eye off the ball. All this talk about Sam and an insurance company and shit. You’re probably working for Sam.”

“No Armando. Please, believe me. I’m a—”

Armando’s phone chirped before she could finish. He started swearing in Spanish as he swerved to avoid crashing into traffic and jumped up on the curb taking a right turn. He stayed on the phone, shouting instructions in Spanish, but they made it back to her place in record time anyway. She barely had a chance to say her goodbyes before he streamed out of the parking lot and went barreling down the street. Standing in the late afternoon sun with her bag still slung over her shoulder, loneliness descended all around her. Perhaps this would be the last time she’d see him alive.

And she hadn’t even told him the truth. She hoped the God Mrs. Guzman prayed to be listening.

Bring him back safe, sir. He’s the real deal.

Chapter 26

Sam had spent the entire afternoon thinking about what it would feel like to have Gina all to himself again. He watched some of his home movies taken from the very bed he was lying on. The CDs, along with this bed and the building were the only things he got from his divorce. He’d lost the house and everything else, not that any of it had any meaning to him.

He fingered the pillow he’d used to prop up her little ass so he could kiss it, ram himself so tight up her little sex that she groaned. He told himself it was pleasure, but this was the last one, the time when she insisted she be let go. He told her he’d be gentle, that this would be a goodbye fuck, and she acquiesced. But then he got rough again. He couldn’t help it. And in the end, she just lay there and let him finish. She couldn’t stop crying afterwards. She wouldn’t let him take her home. He knew he’d lost her that night.

He studied the sheet-rocked walls of the rundown, abandoned duplex he called home. He’d purchased it in foreclosure a year ago when he and Gina were dating. He’d wanted some special renovations, but they broke up before he could take her there.

As far as living arrangements, he didn’t need much, just a bedroom with heat, an efficiency kitchen with a hot plate and microwave, and a decent bathroom. He’d been able to upgrade his unit in one long weekend. He had plans for the other side, too, but everything was on hold now.

After the breakup, he thought maybe if he and Gina worked together, some of the chemistry would come back. He stopped calling her and tried to move on. But no one was like Gina.

He didn’t want to share her with anyone, even guys on the force who casually knew her. He didn’t want her too close to Kozinski. He didn’t want anyone stealing a look, catching one of her smiles, or smelling her perfume. It all belonged to him. It was all he wanted, and he’d pay any price for it.

So when she got sweet on the SEAL, something flipped in Sam’s mind. He walked through a doorway of no return, a place of desperation. Suddenly, his obsession with her turned into
he couldn’t live without her
.

Tito had let him know about the sweep going on and how successful the task force had been. He knew it was only a matter of time before the operation was called and everyone would go their separate ways. He also knew Gina would make complaints about him and he was facing a dishonorable end to his career.

He tried not to think about it. If he could reason with her, love her in the manner that which he knew she needed, she’d see the folly of her ways. She’d see that he could save her in every way she needed saving. If she felt the power of him inside her, could see how good they were together, then maybe there would be a happy ending.

He didn’t want to kill her. He wanted her to surrender to him. Tell him she’d been wrong and he was right. He was the right man for her. He needed to hear that.

Tito had been released and Sam knew right where to find him. Although he wasn’t supposed to, he found him at one of their cribs in an abandoned house covered in graffiti. On any other day, Sam would have brought backup, but today he felt like absolute Teflon. He kicked in the front door with his boot and chambered his shotgun.

“Nobody move.”

People started scrambling out the doors and windows anyway. Glass broke. Chairs were overturned. Sam scanned the darkened room filled with marijuana smoke and found Tito in the corner, passed out with a needle in his arm.

No one was going to challenge him. He figured with so many of their leadership down at the station, there wasn’t anyone in charge. Everyone he’d seen looked to be underage.

Three quick strides across the room brought him to Tito’s feet. Sam grabbed him by the front of his shirt and Tito shook like a rubber chicken, his head lolling back and his mouth drooling something white and foamy.

Sam thought perhaps he was OD’ing. But Tito opened his eyes, at first lazy and glazed over, then full of panic as he recognized the big cop.

He reached down and picked up Tito’s kit, tossing the needle. He threw the boy over his shoulder, carrying the shotgun and kit in his right hand. Again, no one challenged him as he made his way back to the pickup truck on the street.

Tito slung against the side of the passenger door in a semi-coma as Sam started the engine.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit,” Sam spewed.

Tito responded with a warm smile. Sam had an EpiPen in the first aid kit he carried in the back of his truck, and damn, he was going to use it on the kid. He needed him to play one more part, and then to hell with him.

Tito looked like a zombie in a bad movie, Sam thought. Almost too scary to take him to the pancake house, but the kid was hungry, and Sam needed him to stay awake, while not looking too jittery. So he let Tito order anything he wanted. Sam had lost his appetite.

From the red vinyl booth, syrupy sweet music happily playing in the background, Sam dialed Gina. He wondered if she’d pick up. He had a Plan B if not. But she did.

“Hello?” She sounded groggy.

“You turn in early?”

“It’s not early. It’s after eight.”

“Only time we went to bed that early was to fuck ourselves to death,” Sam said. Tito looked up from his pancakes, and smiled as syrup spilled from his mouth onto his shirt.

“Sam, the only reason I picked up this phone was because I hoped you’d seen the light. Everything’ll be over in a day or two. You know I’m going to tell Kozinski what went down.”

“Well, he’s kind of busy right now. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but they’ve been making sweeps. Got a ton of guys.”

“Good. I thought they were going in on Monday.”

“That’s what he told me too. Seems we’ve both been left out, for some reason.”

She didn’t say anything.

“One thing I thought you might want to know, they can’t find Mia.”

“Well, I’d expect she’d be smart enough to lay low.”

“You didn’t tip her off, did you?”

“Hell no. I wouldn’t do that. You know me, Sam.”