Rogue Launch, page 13
“Do you remember Blake’s birthday party two years ago when you gave her a new bike without training wheels?”
Was he seriously gonna go down memory lane right now?
“Yeah.”
“She fell a little too close to the edge of the curb, and you had to cut yourself off from yelling at her,” he went on.
I buried my face against the pillow, not wanting to hear another word. I’d felt guilty for a fucking month. I hadn’t been able to stop the first few sentences; I’d made her cry way more than the fall did.
“I have to get some sleep, Joel.”
“You were so terrified something would happen to her that you lashed out.” He wasn’t keeping quiet… “I was so pissed at you back then—and you shouldn’t have yelled at her. But you already knew that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that guilt-ridden.”
I exhaled and did my best to keep calm. “Get to the point or shut the fuck up.”
I couldn’t fucking do this anymore. The emotional roller coaster, the going back and forth between anger and…and…missing him like goddamn crazy. I couldn’t. I was tired, I was in pain, my mind was a sluggish stream of countless thoughts on how to get Blake back—
“You were scared to lose me tonight,” he stated. “That’s why you acted like a dick earlier—you were afraid.”
Deep breaths.
He did have a point; hell, he was right on the money, and I could worry about feeling vulnerable about his realization later. Right now, I wanted to stop him, because we weren’t sitting down at a post-op barbecue reflecting on the mishaps and the triumphs. We’d barely gotten started on our hunt for Carillo, and Joel had to change his fucking attitude if there was ever going to be a fun “Remember when we…” barbecue when all this was over.
I rolled over again, and I turned to him and pushed myself up on my elbow.
“Before you say anything,” he said quickly. “I just wanna emphasize what I told you earlier. I knew exactly what I was doing—I knew the risks. And if putting my life on the line brings back my daughter, it’ll be worth it. I would do anything for her, Elliott.”
I frowned. “How about making some smart decisions? Would you do that for her?”
He clenched his jaw and gave me a look that told me he was very low on patience.
I didn’t fucking care. When was he gonna get it?
I sat up straighter, my feet landing on the floor. “I’m not saying this to be an asshole, Joel. I’m serious. You think I wouldn’t risk my life for Blake? You think I wouldn’t kill and die for her? But that’s not what you did tonight. You risked your life for nothing. That’s why I killed those motherfuckers—”
“Wait—you did what?” He went rigid. “You killed them?”
I—what… Did he not—I mean—oh, for chrissakes, I couldn’t handle another mindfuck. “You were there.” I spoke slowly, because I was clearly speaking to a child.
“But Blanco said—” He was as confused as I was. He frowned in thought. “When the doctor worked on me, Vincente said all eight men were dead. I thought… Fuck.” He blew out a breath, frustrated, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s hazy—I need the damn meds to stop working for a goddamn second.”
He’d gotten his memories mixed up, hadn’t he? In the commotion, in the middle of all that pain, he’d assumed Vincente’s guards had killed those eight men. Or rather, the ones remaining after Joel had killed one or two. I didn’t remember all the specifics myself. Mayhem had its way of blurring the lines between reality and the mental gymnastics that followed in the aftermath.
“We were sitting ducks out there, man,” I said. “It was my decision. I killed them.”
Was that going to be a problem?
Joel took a deep breath and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I told you not to,” he said quietly. “It couldn’t have been you, because I specifically said I wanted to keep some of them alive for interrogation.”
I remembered that part. “And you were wrong. It wasn’t worth the risk—”
“That’s not your decision to make!” He exploded and glared murderously at me. Right then and there, I was every bit as much the enemy as Carillo was to him. “You had no right, Elliott! They could’ve led me to Blake! They could’ve known someth—”
“Except, they fucking don’t,” I growled. Fury got the best of me, and I shot up from the bed and balled my hands into fists. “This isn’t the time or place for you to walk before you can crawl, Joel. I’ve been dealing with cartels on and off for almost twenty goddamn years. When I say they don’t know shit, they don’t know shit. They’re clueless fuckers recruited out of poverty to do the dirty work for a few hundred bucks. Tonight was a warning sent by Carillo to Vincente. It was meant to scare Vincente—that’s all.”
“By sending him running to the next location?” he yelled incredulously. “How does that make sense if Carillo sent you a message to come here?”
“He—” I stopped abruptly and sucked in a breath, my brain grinding to a screeching halt. Holy fuck. I staggered back and slumped down on the bed again, and I stared unseeingly as new scenarios started swimming in my head. Scenarios, questions, doubts, fears. What was going on? Joel was right; if Carillo sent us here to murder Vincente…why scare the man off? Why send eight men here to attack the villa?
Why had Vincente been so generous last night? Credit cards, cash, luggage, private plane, whatever we’d needed. Was he holding something back? Was he in on it with Carillo? Had he offered me the world because he’d known I wasn’t leaving this place? Or had someone else sent the eight men? The Blanco Family had plenty of enemies.
Did I warn Vincente that he might be heading into a trap? Because what if he was on our side?
He has to be on our side. He may be theatrical, but that’s one hell of a show to fuck with you.
No. No, I couldn’t believe Vincente was working with Carillo. It didn’t make a lick of sense. At the same time, I couldn’t take any chances. All the information Vincente had given us—I’d trust it once Squeezy had double-checked it. Not a moment before.
Joel sat down in front of me.
We locked eyes.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I… Fuck me. We had to leave. “Pack a bag for both of us,” I said quietly. “Make sure we have our papers. I’m gonna go downstairs and take whatever’s worth something.” That we could carry anyway. “Knowing him, there’s gonna be diamonds and shit.” I quickly put on my jeans and grabbed a T-shirt. “We’ll take one of the cars and some guns we’ll ditch before the airport. Cancún isn’t far away. We’ll fly to Florida from there, then Europe.”
I didn’t care about our cover anymore. We weren’t wanted by the police back home or anything like it. They just wanted to talk to us. So if at some point they saw that we’d come through US customs in Florida, so fucking be it. We could deal with that when Blake was home.
I found a pair of socks, my shoes, and an empty leather overnight bag before I headed for the door. “Meet me downstairs in two minutes.”
“And how’s it gonna look if we go through customs with a bag of diamonds?” he demanded.
“I don’t know, we’ll shove them up your ass or something.” I shut the door behind me and jogged down the stairs.
I knew we weren’t alone, so we had to be ready for anything if the guards got in our way.
I heard whistling and the sound of a woman humming coming from the kitchen. Other than that—no, there. A guard outside on the patio. But that was it. No other sign of life. I snuck into the office undetected and immediately went to the desk.
Vincente’s need to display his wealth made this part easy for me. I filled the bag with several bundles of cash, and the drawers revealed even more. Sure enough, diamonds. More cash. A dozen one-ounce gold bars.
I scraped my teeth across my bottom lip, wondering if we should fly to another location than Florida. It was gonna look awfully suspicious. Mexico City, maybe. They’d have plenty of international flights.
I’d figure it out on the way.
We’d buy extra luggage and distribute the cash bundles.
“This is the final boarding call for flight…”
“Hurry up.” Joel walked ahead of me, and I did my best not to let my limp show.
The shit we did in order to avoid US territory apparently included traveling to Toronto. But in our defense, it’d been the only flight available on such short notice. From Toronto, we’d get to Frankfurt. If we made it to the gate in time.
We’d come too fucking far to lose it now. I could admit, I’d been nervous going through customs when we’d landed here earlier today. Thankfully, I’d been smart enough to travel on my Frank Rivera identity, and accidentally flashing my police ID rarely failed. Even Joel had cranked up the military vibes.
We made it in the nick of time, and we were the last to board the Frankfurt flight.
As soon as we were seated in business class, I brought out my phone to send a message to the guys.
We are on our way. See you in Europe.
Crew and Ryan should be in the air already. Ortega, Ramirez, Darius, and Gray were flying out to Paris tomorrow.
“Do you think Vincente’s pissed at us yet?” Joel asked, out of breath.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t think so, but he probably had questions. Maybe doubts too.
Then again, so did I.
Could we trust him for this mission?
The guards hadn’t put up any resistance when we’d left the Blanco estate. None whatsoever. They’d been confused as fuck, but they’d just shrugged and let us go.
I’d reached my fucking limit, to be honest. I didn’t remember the last time I’d slept, so further analysis of anything would have to wait. I was done. I was gonna devour the meal they’d serve as soon as we were airborne, and then I was gonna sleep till we landed in Germany.
A message popped up right before I was about to put my phone in airplane mode. It was from Reese.
We might have found Gomez. I’ll keep you posted. Safe flight. RT2
A breath gusted out of me, and I showed Joel the screen.
He didn’t say anything, but the desperate hope shone in his eyes.
He let his head fall against the headrest, and he stared right ahead. “We’re gonna find her.”
“Of course we will.”
We had to.
“And when we do,” he said, swallowing, “I don’t ever wanna see you again.”
I did a double take at him and stared as the sharpest hurt slashed through me. It hit me so fast, so hard, that my eyes welled up. Embarrassment and anger followed; my ears felt hot, my chest tight, and I averted my gaze just as he glanced my way. Fuck you, Joel. Fucking fuck you. He’d hurt me for the last time.
Joel was dead to me.
Goddammit.
Emotions kept surging up, and I had to clear my throat and blink past the burning sting in my eyes. It was the lack of sleep that prevented me from controlling myself. That was all. I wasn’t upset. I was tired and hungry. He hadn’t gotten to me. I was fine.
“Are you—”
“Shut the fuck up.” I coughed and cleared my throat again. “That’s fine. You had me fooled for a hot second, and that’s on me.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he whispered angrily.
I took a steadying breath and grasped at the cool breeze of detachment that flowed toward me. God, I welcomed it with open arms. Feeling nothing was exactly what I craved right now.
One more breath.
Walls back in place and reinforced.
“It means absolutely nothing,” I replied quietly. “Just like you and I do to each other.”
2015
I didn’t know how to leave. I couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed, put my clothes on, and walk out that door.
This hotel room had been my sanctuary for three days. Three days of hanging out, watching movies, talking, having the best sex of my life, ordering takeout… We’d hit up the hotel’s gym twice, and we’d taken a walk. We’d held fucking hands and all.
I released a breath and stared up at the ceiling.
“That wasn’t a good sound.” Joel lifted his head from my chest and scooted higher up.
I cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. “This is hard.”
“That’s what he said.”
I smiled, and I turned on my side. “How old are you?”
He grinned. Then he pulled the duvet over us and hitched a leg over my hip. “You know, we don’t have to say goodbye this time.”
Didn’t we?
“I don’t want to.” He sobered and touched my cheek. “I don’t wanna wait another fifteen years before I see you again.”
Christ, he couldn’t say that shit to me. I was already hooked. But how the hell was this gonna work?
“What do you propose?” I asked warily. “You’re stationed in Florida, and when they deploy you to San Diego, you’re on call twenty-four seven for three months straight. I’m out of the country probably six or seven months of the year. I’m headed to the airport right now to spend the next nine weeks in Uzbekistan, and when I get home, I have divorce proceedings to look forward to. Then my business with Tariq—before I have another contract in Mali.”
He smiled faintly and pinched my lips together. “You done?”
I gave him a look.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he murmured. “You’ll do all that. Get divorced. Complete your contracts and come home in one piece. I have eight months before I can make any changes—I can ask to be permanently transferred to a helicopter unit here in San Diego.”
Jesus Christ, he was serious.
“In about a year or so…” He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. “You call me up. You say, ‘Hey, sweetheart. It’s Elliott. Can I take you to dinner? I have a bachelor pad in LA, and you have one in San Diego. I suggest we get this thing off the ground and make shit work together.’”
I nipped at his thumb and couldn’t help but grin. Fuck me, he was dangerous.
“I really say all that? It doesn’t sound like me.”
A lot could happen in a year, but that didn’t stop me from getting my hopes up.
“Then start practicing, because those are the words I wanna hear.” He leaned in and kissed me teasingly. “Don’t you wanna at least give us a shot?”
“I do.” No hesitation. I really did. “Sweetheart.”
“Yeah… Now we’re talking.” He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I was quick to roll on top of him. “Fuck, Elliott… We have enough time for one more round? I need that big cock.”
As if I could resist.
Elliott, Joel, and the others return in the next book
The Renegades
Book 1: Rogue Launch | Elliott & Joel
Book 2: Enemy Combatant | Crew & Adrien
Book 3: On the Double | River & Reese & Shay
Book 4: Tango Down | Joel & Elliott
* * *
Book 4 will also include an epilogue for the MCs of the series
More from Cara
Cara freely admits she’s addicted to revisiting the men and women who yammer in her head, and several of her characters cross over in other titles. If you enjoyed this book, you might like the following.
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Check out Cara’s entire collection at www.caradeewrites.com, and don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter so you don’t miss any new releases, updates on book signings, free outtakes, giveaways, and much more.
