Hold on Tight (25 page)

Nick was classically handsome; Jake, on the other hand, bore the rugged good looks of a warrior—gray eyes held a hint of mischief under their concern as he led her directly to the couch. “You look pale, Jamie. I’m going to grab you some water.”

“Thanks.”

“When was the last time you ate anything?” he called over his shoulder, and God, she didn’t know—wanted to say,
the last time your brother let me up for air
, but didn’t dare make a joke now.

Thinking about the way things had been just hours before made her heart ache. “I’m not really hungry.”

“I know. But you should eat something.” Jake crouched in front of her, handed her an opened bottle of water and a sleeve of crackers.

She took both, drinking some water and nibbling a cracker under his watchful gaze. Mainly because she knew he wouldn’t give up until she did so.

“Listen, I’ve got some clothes for you. My fiancée is about your size. She gave me some jeans and stuff for you.” He continued, “She also gave me these.”

He held out a bottle of prenatal vitamins. “She’s a doctor,” he explained, and yes, she guessed Chris had told his brothers everything. “She figured that with what happened to your house, you hadn’t had time to replace these.”

He trailed off, his eyes on her as she took the bottle and stared at it. She hadn’t even had a chance to buy them yet, had planned to do so two days earlier after the meetings at the JAG building.

Her eyes filled. “Thank you. I figured, with all this trouble I’m making for Chris, you guys wouldn’t … that you’d …”

“We’ll handle whatever it is, Jamie. You make my brother happy. And you’ve got my nephew in there,” he told her bluntly.

It would be that simple to join Chris’s family. Because he loved her, they would. They were that close, that fierce in their loyalty, that quick to circle their wagons. “I think the man who killed my parents is after me again.”

There, she’d said it out loud—easier to say it to a near stranger than to admit it to Chris.

Jake nodded. “Can you confirm that?”

“He hasn’t contacted me directly,” she said, which she still found odd. And then thought about her phone. “My phone was destroyed, but I can still call my voice mail.”

“Put it on speaker,” Jake told her as she dialed from Chris’s phone. Normally a command like that from a man she didn’t know would make her bristle, but he was right—and here for nothing more than to protect her life—so she did exactly what he’d asked.

The voice that came across the line was firm and clear—she’d never heard Alek speak before, but she had no doubt that it was him leaving her the message.

“I knew you’d grow up to look just like your mother. That bitch took everything from me. I can’t rest until it’s done. And you’ll pay, Ana. You and your sister and everyone you love. Including the father of your baby.”

The threats echoed inside her head—everything was happening too fast, the danger slamming on top of more danger, and her world did a slow slide into panic.

Jake was still there in front of her and she was asking him to, please, get Chris, but wasn’t sure if the words were really being spoken aloud or simply echoing inside her mind in a silent, desperate scream.

But finally, he’d caught his break through the bitch Deanna’s best friend … he’d been monitoring her for months. Hell, he would’ve slept with her, if he thought she wouldn’t have recognized him.

She’d recognized him when he’d broken into her car to kill her and his heart had soared because he’d known he’d finally be free. And then he’d hopped a flight to Minnesota.

Later that night, knife in hand, screams muffled with a chloroformed washcloth, the only sounds in the master bedroom had been the thump of the bodies as they’d hit the floor and then the gurgling sounds as his knife made its mark, the slash like a gaping, hideous smile along the dead couple’s throats.

Alek had planned to move into the kids’ rooms next, hadn’t expected to hear the sirens. And, as he’d gone to leave through the window, he’d caught sight of
her
.

Patricia Jane. Watching him with fear and defiance coloring her features.

Had he ever been that young? No, and any last remnants of his youth had been stripped from him the day he’d been doused with gasoline, set on fire and left to die.

And still, he hadn’t been able to finish the job, because Patricia was staring at him like he was a monster.

That hadn’t ever bothered him before, not until that moment. And in that split second of pause, he’d given up his chance of completing the job. The sirens wailed in the distance and he’d attempted to run, but to no avail. He’d been captured quickly and sent to prison with no bond.

After he’d escaped, he swore he wasn’t going back to that cell. Ever. The time spent awaiting trial had been the longest of his life—three months stretched to eternity. And he’d hidden ever since, stripped of his power to do the job because he’d made a promise.

The desire for revenge still ran hot and fast through his bloodline—it was what his family did. They hunted, waited patiently. And then they killed.

They did it all in the name of family, of business.

There was no room to keep promises outside of that—he’d been a fool to agree to it. And yet he’d thrown his life away because of one he’d made to his best friend and brother.

He’d been festering for so long, living between worlds. He’d been unable to face his father, since Alek’s inability to finish the job had effectively lost his family their status in the Russian underground. His mother and sister had been funneling him money when they could, and Alek had comforted himself that he was doing the honorable thing, that repaying a debt like the one he owed should bring him honor, not take it all away.

After this, the shame on his father’s memory would be erased.

The man Ana was with—the father of the baby—he was military. Tough, but not impossible to get to. No one was impossible for him. Alek had the training, physically and mentally. He was a soldier in a much different kind of war.

On the day of his father’s death seven days earlier, the last vestige of humanity had been ripped from him. His father, on his deathbed, had publicly disowned Alek, his only son.

Finishing what he’d started was the only way to make all of this better. One person at a time.

Silently, he entered the house and prepared to exact his revenge.

“We’ll wait outside until you get her calmed down and decide what you want to do,” he heard Jake say from behind him, and then Chris and Jamie were alone in the cabin.

Her fear was palpable.

He eased the phone from her hands, placed it on the table next to the couch. Immediately, she pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, placed her chin on her knees and rocked. She reminded him of Jake, when he was coming out of one of his nightmares, suspended between past and present and so completely vulnerable.

He remained next to her, tried to abort and deflect some of the negative energy from her, like his momma used to do when one of her boys was sick or hurting. It didn’t matter if the pain was physical or emotional.

Pain is pain
, Momma would say. Jamie’s wouldn’t go away anytime soon, but if he could help to ease it … He’d do anything to do so.

“You need to leave now.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own—it was monotone, a stranger’s voice.

“I’m staying here for as long as you need me.”

“Don’t you understand? It’s real now. The danger is so real, and I don’t want you to be hurt by it.” She stared at him as if really seeing him for the first time. “I couldn’t bear to lose you to this man. Please, you can’t do that to me. You have to listen, for your own good—pick up and go. The FBI can assign me a team.”

Her last words were close to a shout, then her eyes went blank again. She began to shiver and he had to bring her out of this, had to get her back into fight mode. “The last team the FBI assigned to you didn’t work out so well,” he reminded her, and fuck no, she wasn’t getting rid of him.

He picked her up and brought her, fully clothed, into the shower with him, turned on the water and held her under the warm spray. For a few minutes, she held him fast as the water sluiced over them, and then she pulled his face to hers and kissed him, over and over.

At least until he pulled back from her. “Don’t you dare, Jamie. Don’t you dare kiss me like you’re saying good-bye. You can forget it. You can yell and scream and get as pissed off as you want, but don’t you think you’re shutting me out.”

She had no answer for him, simply put her forehead against his chest for a few seconds. Her hands gripped his biceps as if holding on for dear life and she was so damned still. Pulling herself together.

She wasn’t convinced she couldn’t get him to leave. He knew that. But he also knew there was no way in hell he was deserting her now. He’d hunt the bastard who was after her to the ends of the earth if he had to, just to keep her safe.

She kissed him again, this time it felt more desperate—she moaned against his mouth and he got it, she wanted to get lost, to forget about what her mind didn’t want her to process.

He wanted to tell her that now wasn’t the time, but he couldn’t, not when he wanted her. Not when he wanted to make everything better for her.

Together, they dragged their wet clothing off their bodies, letting it slop onto the bathroom floor until both were naked and she was back in his arms.

Her hands dug into his shoulders, slipped off a few times until she wound a hand in his hair and the other went between his legs, throwing him nearly off balance.

“Please … please,” she murmured against his moan and he lifted her so her back went against the tile wall, the familiar dance the two of them knew so well. It was hot and quick and dirty—she practically impaled herself on him, driving him in hard with a leg wrapped around his waist, ankle digging into his ass. He gained traction any way he could—not easy in the slippery steam. She’d moved on from needy to frantic and he let her have her way until she came and slumped against him.

She wasn’t convinced she couldn’t get him to leave. He knew that. But he also knew there was no way in hell he was deserting her now. He’d hunt the bastard who was after her to the end of the earth if he had to, just to keep her safe.

“Okay. Let me get him on the line for you.”

“I’ve done this for people, walked them through danger, I should know how to handle it—and I’m falling apart.”

“Yeah, right now you are. But you’ll pull it together and we’ll get through it.” He slid the bowl toward her, urged her to eat.

She blew on the hot broth and took a spoonful. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because in the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you down for long,” he told her. “We’ll get PJ and Saint together, and Kevin—we’ll all be in the same room. We’ll figure it out.”

“We don’t even have access to computers here,” she pointed out. “We should go to Saint’s, if he’ll have us.”

She was in planning mode. She was better.

“I think being closer to civilization is preferable in this case,” he agreed.

And then she was thinking again, picturing the scene. Going through the crime-scene photos she’d taken with his phone. “How did this happen? How the hell do they know each other?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“You mentioned a Mexican–Russian drug connection.”

“Maybe.” But she wasn’t convinced, bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I thought if Alek was watching me, I would know. I’d be able to tell. And now he’s in so much further than I want him to be.”

“He’s not getting in anymore. He didn’t count on me.” The anger in Chris’s voice was unmistakable.

God, she wished Alek didn’t know about the baby, or about Chris. That just magnified everything.

She knew what Kevin would want, could feel the walls of a safe house closing in on her.

Being relocated sounded so innocuous. What the marshals don’t tell you is that everything’s different. Everything. That you had to be different. Except you were still you on the inside. Trapped.

Chris must’ve seen the wheels turning inside her head—he pulled his seat close to hers and gathered her against him. “Sometimes I get involved in cases like mine … I have to help bring the families in with the marshals. Stay involved with the current investigations. Once, Kevin brought me in to speak with a family who needed some help. The son had gotten involved in gang activity and he was forced to testify against high-ranking members of the gang or go to jail. His family—mom, dad and younger sister—they all had to relocate with him since he was a minor, only sixteen at the time. And I remember, they were all so angry at him. I walked into the room and realized I hadn’t felt that kind of anger since … since my parents were alive. They were always angry with each other. I used to blame them, but now I get it.”

Chris continued to watch her carefully. She remained nearly in his lap, his hands wrapped around her waist, holding her. Comforting her.

“I went into the FBI so I could get strong.”

“You are strong.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. I’m just really good at pretending.”

“Whatever gets you through, Jamie. But I know strong. I’ve seen guys ring out of BUD/S training or wash out later because they’ve got no mental game. You’re strong as hell.”

“Kevin’s going to recommend a safe house. And he’s going to bring in another marshal to convince me.”

“I know what Kevin’s going to want you to do,” he said quietly. “What I need to know is, what do you want? Ultimately, that’s what it comes down to—and whatever it is, whatever it has to be, I’ll support you. If you have to relocate, I’ll go with you.”

“I would never ask you to leave your family behind.”

“You didn’t ask,” he told her. “It would be hell, but they’d understand. I know they would.”

“I want you,” she said firmly. “You, and a house with lots of windows, and your brothers and friends. And my sister and Kevin. Everyone who’ll be important in this baby’s life. And I won’t compromise.”

He nodded and handed her his phone to make the call.