A lot like Rafe’s family. And their story had not had a happy ending.
If he could give Charlie some hope...maybe he wouldn’t end up like Rafe’s brother, Michael. Dead at seventeen on the streets of Houston, executed by a rival gang.
* * *
THE WIND SHOOK the rickety trailer. Mallory huddled in the corner of the small bedroom’s makeshift cot, wrapping her arms around her daughter. Her heart still raced. Somehow she had to save them, but the trailer’s window had been boarded up and the door locked from the outside. Mallory’s fingers were bleeding from working at the thick planks of their prison. She let out a frustrated sigh. There was no escape.
At least the cowboy had untied them, even if Judson had cursed while the younger man removed the binding. It gave them a shot. She rubbed her wrists. The rope burns would heal. If they got out of here alive.
Mallory had no idea where they were. Far from San Antonio, though. They’d been locked in that van for hours, driving intermittently, occasionally stopping for Judson to make a phone call.
Whoever their kidnapper had contacted, it hadn’t put him in a good mood.
“Mommy,” Chloe whimpered, burrowing deeper into her mother’s arms. “I want to go home. I want my kitty. Princess Buttercup will get scared if I’m not there.”
With a gentle motion, Mallory hugged Chloe closer and kissed her head. “Hush, Button. Everything will be fine.”
The door opened, and Judson stepped into the bedroom cradling a sawed-off shotgun in the crook of his arm. “It’s not nice to lie to children.”
Mallory pressed Chloe up against her, praying she could keep her daughter safe. “She’s only a little girl. Please, let her go.”
“That’s the boss’s decision. He wants to see you. Alone.”
Mallory hesitated.
The man pointed his weapon toward Chloe. “I won’t ask again.”
Mallory kissed Chloe’s forehead, then shifted to get up, but Chloe clutched at her arm, her tiny fingers digging into Mallory’s skin in panicked desperation. “Mommy. Don’t leave me. I’m sorry I didn’t jump.”
Chloe’s face was streaked with tears. Mallory’s heart breaking, she stroked her daughter’s cheek, wiping away the dampness. She stood and fought to smile down at her daughter. “It’s okay. Be brave. No matter what happens. I love you, Button. Always remember that.”
Chloe whimpered, clinging to her mother.
Prying her daughter’s fingers off her arm, and with one last kiss on Chloe’s cheek, Mallory straightened and stepped away from the bed. “I’m ready.”
Her captor smiled, his eyes cold and dead. “I doubt that. But if you tell the boss what he wants to know, he might be lenient.”
She took one last look at Chloe, sent up a prayer and followed her captor through the narrow hallway into a living room. She glanced through the crack between the curtains at the front of the trailer. Night had fallen, but a bright spotlight illuminated the chaotic yard, strewed with trash and unidentifiable junk alongside several rusted-out car bodies. The place appeared abandoned, with a sea of darkness as far as the eye could see. No sign of civilization. No clue as to where they were.
A police car pulled up. The passenger-side window lowered.
“Judson. Get out here,” a voice called.
“Damn,” the guy muttered. He nodded at the man at her side, his weapon resting in the crook of his arm. “Watch her.”
Judson walked down the stairs. With tentative steps he approached the car. What kind of monster made a man who would kidnap a child that nervous?
One second later, a bullet slammed through Judson’s head and he fell backward.
Mallory froze in horror. She turned her face away from the dead body. “Why?”
The cowboy turned to Mallory, his face grim. “Judson let your friend escape.”
Did that mean Sierra was alive? Please let her be alive. Please let her find us.
The car door opened. The man beside her clutched his weapon with shaking hands. “Lady, if you want to stay alive, do exactly what he says and tell him what he wants to hear. If you don’t, you and your kid won’t make it out of here in one piece.”
* * *
THE LONELY WHISTLE of a locomotive chugging through town pierced the night. Rafe handed Elena the last two cans of chili and directions to CTC before the exhausted women disappeared into her room.
Rafe locked his motel-room door and flopped onto the bed, not bothering to remove his boots. He took a long swig of beer and flicked on the television.
Charlie didn’t know it, but he’d given Rafe a gift. A welcome interruption. Because today would have been his fifth anniversary.
Except Gabriella had died a month before the wedding.
The mission had gone so wrong so fast. Gabriella had taken a spray of bullets. She’d had no chance. Because Rafe hadn’t seen the betrayal coming. He hadn’t protected her. He’d let emotions overrule his judgment.
It wouldn’t happen again.
Rafe’s knuckles whitened around the beer bottle. Never again.
Regret for what had happened would never leave him. He’d learned his lesson. A lesson he should’ve learned as a kid, but hadn’t. A lesson he prayed Charlie would never have to learn. Never let your heart rule your head. You’ll get your head bashed in and your heart crushed.
Words he lived by. Except for one night. With Sierra Bradford.
It had taken one kiss for him to forget the lessons of the past. He still couldn’t believe he’d loved her, like he’d dreamed of from the moment he’d met her.
That one intimate encounter with Sierra had scared the hell out of him. He couldn’t risk caring for her. Caring meant allowing his emotions to rule him once more. He couldn’t do that. Sierra deserved someone who would give her everything. Heart, mind, body and soul. Not a man who not only didn’t know how to be a part of a family but whose heart had been used up and destroyed.
Yeah, Sierra deserved someone whole, but that didn’t stop him from dreaming about each kiss, every caress, or the way she’d held him tight against her as if she’d never let him go.
He dug into a pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small velvet pouch. He opened his hand, and a thin gold chain fell into his palm.
Sierra’s. It had broken during their night together. A very passionate night he would never forget.
Don’t go there. He tucked the chain back into his pocket.
He didn’t need another night of dreaming about her.
He flipped channels, searching for another distraction. His cell phone rang. Blocked number. Hopefully a CTC job. No one else called him. “Vargas.”
“It’s Noah. I need your help.”
It would have to be Noah. One of the few people he trusted. One of the few people who trusted Rafe. At least Noah would trust him until he found out Rafe had seduced his sister. And worse, run out on her. Even if it was for her own good.
Bracing himself, Rafe took a swig of beer. “What’s up? I thought you hung up your spy suit.”
Noah had been CTC’s best of the best. Now he worked as a consultant, making cool gadgets to use in covert ops. He’d been almost as quixotic as Rafe—until he’d found someone to love him and a reason not to risk his life.
“Sierra’s disappeared.”