Resisting His Target Page 6

  She knew him better than anyone, so he had to believe what she was saying was true. He imagined the sweet young Selena being drawn into a media frenzy, the focus of Doug McGrath’s misguided attention and financial prowess. “That’s what happened to your money, isn’t it? He has it.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  “No, but it would allow him to come after you. Buy him the best legal team out there. Shit!” There had to be another way, a way to protect Selena so Jackie could come forward and break the chains that bound her. But Selena was McGrath’s child, and so long as that was true…

  He stared at Jackie.

  “What?” she asked.

  It was so simple, it was obscene—but complex enough to be terrifying. Moto could help. Perhaps with Jax’s connections they could have things expedited…

  “Ian, tell me.”

  Five words, and a willingness to give everything.

  We can say she’s mine.

  His name, his complete trust and backing to a virtual stranger. But it was the right thing to do, the only possible thing he could do to calm the tempest that swirled around her, and for a reason he couldn’t explain, he was willing to do it.

  He’d avoided close relationships and responsibility for other people for years, and for good reason, too. So why was he contemplating taking on a child for someone else, even if it was in name only? There would be legal ramifications. The potential for actual responsibilities.

  And what would they tell Selena? Whatever Jackie wanted, of course, but there would need to be an explanation of some sort. Selena was a real person who would grow up into a woman in her own right one day. What would she think of what he was about to offer Jackie?

  If she understood the circumstances, she would think you had saved her.

  Was that why he was doing this? Some sort of hero complex, like running into a burning building when a ladder might have sufficed? But they’d already explored their other options, none of them good. Jackie and Selena could keep running—forever—and hope never to be found, or he could man up and make a difference in their lives for the better, at very little personal cost to himself.

  You keep on telling yourself that, Razorback. And while you’re at it, pretend you don’t want her.

  That was just lust. Lust he could handle. It wasn’t why he was doing this, and he wouldn’t let it impact their future. If he was going to step in as Selena’s father, at least on paper, he needed to keep his relationship with Jackie on solid ground.

  It was madness to offer this, but it was a different kind of madness to refuse her the protection he could so easily afford. When he spoke, his voice was steady and strong. “We can say she’s mine.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand.”

  “On the birth certificate. You left it blank. We can say she’s mine. That will make her an American citizen, and it will keep her out of McGrath’s reach. He’d have to be willing to come forward and claim she’s his, then demand a paternity test. From what you’re telling me, that’s not going to happen.”

  “No way. He would never. But Ian… Why would you do that for me?”

  “Because you need help, and I can give it to you.”

  She was quiet so long he thought she might refuse, when she suddenly giggled. “It would work, wouldn’t it? We’d be safe and I could expose Doug for the snake he really is.” She threw her arms around him in a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Ian! Thank you so much.”

  If a woman had ever felt as good as Jackie in his arms, he couldn’t remember it. When she released him, his gaze slid down her face to her lips, which were curved into a smile, and he knew he would do anything in his power to keep it there.

  God, how he wanted to kiss her.

  Bad idea, Rhodes.

  Who the hell was he kidding? He couldn’t ignore lust. He couldn’t even ignore it for five minutes. He was tethering himself to the one woman he should know better than to be around. Jackie believed in fairy-tale endings and happily ever afters, while he knew nothing could be further from reality, yet he wanted her.

  He wanted her badly.

  “I’ll call HERO Force and get the ball rolling. Hopefully Jax Andersson has a connection or two that can expedite the process.” He dialed his cell phone. “Jax, it’s Razorback. I need your help on something.”

  He gave the other man the details, from Jackie’s true identity to her plan to expose McGrath, and wasn’t surprised when Jax asked if Razorback was out of his goddamn mind.

  “They’ll both need passports, ASAP,” said Razorback.

  There was a knock at the bedroom door and Sloan called, “Jackie, is Ian with you?” She let him in, a rifle slung over his shoulder and his hands full of cookies. It was time for the men to change shifts, and Razorback nodded to him.

  “Let me make some phone calls and see what I can do,” said Jax. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Hang on. What’s that?” He mumbled something away from the phone, clearly talking to someone else, then came back on the line. “Son of a bitch. Moto says Border Patrol and Homeland Security released a joint statement this morning, claiming a high threat of terror attacks on our borders surrounding the Democratic National Convention, including two credible threats from Mexico.”

  “How much you want to bet those credible threats can be traced back to McGrath?”

  “I don’t doubt it, but getting a passport for a dead woman is going to be more difficult than usual.”

  Razorback looked at Jackie. “Difficult or impossible?”

  “Nothing is impossible,” Jax said. “I’ll have to call you back.”

  12

  Razorback and Sloan were checking the outbuildings together before changing the guard, just as they’d done last night, leaving a thoughtful Jackie to rest for a while. They reached the first cabana and Sloan unlocked the door, each man with his weapon at the ready.

  The main room was round and large, with a mahogany king-sized bed stripped down to the mattress. A wall cut off a slice of the circle like a chord dissecting the space, creating a private area for a fancy marble bathroom and a small kitchenette. Razorback opened an armoire, finding two plush white bathrobes. “Clear.”

  “You think there’s any food in here?” Sloan asked. “I’m starving. I’m getting a migraine, I’m so goddamn hungry.”

  “You ate ten cookies before we left the house.”

  “They were little cookies, and I have a very fast metabolism.”

  He could imagine Sloan training on the beach at Coronado, up to his eyeballs in icy water and shaking from the cold. Do you have any trail mix, or a piece of fruit? I have a very fast metabolism. Razorback shook his head. “You’re killing me, man.”

  On the walk over, Razorback had explained the paternity idea to Sloan, who didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about volunteering to be falsely named as the father of a child you’d just met. “That’s cool,” was all he’d said.

  Sloan opened the refrigerator. “I need a sandwich or something. Oh, man, I just got one of those sous vide cookers. You know, where you cook steak in hot water?”

  “That’s fucking disgusting.”

  “It’s amazing. I’m going to make it for you when we get home just so you can eat your shitty attitude with a side of Worcestershire sauce.”

  “Can’t wait. I’ll bring a nice loaf of bread in a pot of boiling water.”

  “It’s not boiling, it’s—”

  “Shut up. Let’s go check the others and see if they’re as empty as this one.” It was identical to the first, as were the next two. But the fifth and final cabana was different the moment Razorback turned the key. “It’s unlocked,” he mouthed to Sloan.

  With one kick, Razorback pushed open the door to the seemingly empty room, holding his weapon trained in front of him as the hinge let out a high-pitched squeak. Sloan was on his six, the men moving cautiously around the space, checking beneath the bed and in the bathroom. “Clear,” Razorback said.

  The
bed was stripped, just like the others. The armoire held two bathrobes. But when Razorback entered the bathroom, the distinct smell of urine drew him to the toilet. He lifted the seat. “There are drops of wet piss on the edge of the bowl. Were you in here?”

  “No.” Sloan frowned. “Her attacker.”

  “What about the cameras? We’ve got a live feed of the entire perimeter, for God’s sake. We’ve been patrolling this area regularly. How the hell did we miss a fucking human being?” He wanted to punch something, needed to release the anger coursing through his blood.

  Anger with himself.

  They’d underestimated their opponent, and it could have gotten Jackie killed. Now that he knew how high the stakes were, he held no illusions about their visitor’s intentions. This wasn’t someone who would be satisfied with beating Jackie up. This was a killer waiting for the opportunity to wipe her and her daughter clean off the map.

  He turned and stared out the window, his jaw clenched, thinking. Why here? There were a hundred places to hide at the resort, but he’d picked this one—surrounded by open areas that provided nothing in the way of cover.

  It was the farthest away of all the cabanas, with a clear line of sight to the main house, free of the vegetation that concealed the others. “You can see the restaurant from here, and into a bedroom. He narrowed his eyes, mentally pulling up the building’s layout. That wasn’t just any bedroom. “Clear line of sight to Jackie’s bedroom. Motherfucker’s been watching her.”

  “Waiting for a shot?” asked Sloan.

  Jesus.

  Binoculars or a scope would easily overcome the distance. Any sniper worth his salt could take her down from here in a heartbeat.

  He looked down at the deep windowsill, two small marks about ten inches apart clearly visible in the thin layer of dust. His stomach clenched, electricity dripping down his spine. “Sloan, look at these.”

  The other man moved to his side. “Bipod?”

  The legs on the body of a rifle, used to brace it on a surface. “That’s what they look like to me.” He took a deep breath in and slowly blew it out, sinking into a squat as his eyes raked the floor, Sloan doing the same. Rifles needed bullets, and bullets had a tendency to roll.

  “Under the armoire,” said Sloan.

  Razorback stood, pulling it away from the wall to reveal an unspent shell. He cursed colorfully. “It’s a .338.” The men shared a look. That ammo said somebody meant business—sniper business. “We left Jackie alone. We have to move.” They’d set the alarm system, but that didn’t matter now. They were dealing with a professional who’d already demonstrated he could get past the alarm.

  The cabana door opened with a high-pitched squeal. Razorback and Sloan both pulled their weapons and faced the door, prepared to shoot. Selena stood in the doorway in a baggy rainbow bathing suit and dropped a yellow plastic pail as she screamed.

  Neither man put down his gun. “Stop it!” commanded Razorback, and she abruptly stopped. “Are you alone?”

  She shook her head vigorously, her expression telling him she was about to burst into tears.

  He holstered his gun and crossed to her, arms extended. “It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m sorry we scared you, sweetie.” He pulled her to him, her frame both smaller and bonier than he’d imagined.

  “Why do you… have… that gun?” she sniveled, pulling back and picking up the pail.

  “To keep you safe. We need to get to your mother, Selena. Right now. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “We need to run,” he said. “As fast as you can. Ready?” They took off, him in the lead, Sloan and Selena trailing behind. Razorback couldn’t get there fast enough, the sand slowing his progress. Jackie had asked him to protect them and what did he do? He left her alone without adequately accounting for her safety.

  A high-pitched scream from behind him brought him up short, and he turned to see Selena on all fours in the sand, crying, Sloan bent at the waist. Razorback hesitated. The girl’s wails had a shrill quality that said she was badly hurt.

  “Ian!” Sloan barked, the use of Razorback’s given name telling him it was serious. He jogged back, blood dripping from Selena’s foot visible as he got closer. “She stepped on glass,” said Sloan. “You’ll have to carry her.”

  Razorback ran to her, all too aware that they didn’t have time for this. “Get on my back.”

  She cried harder.

  “Now!” he snapped.

  “He means like a piggyback ride,” said Sloan. “We’re going to have a race, then we’ll get you a Band-Aid back at the house.”

  Jesus Christ, kids were hard. Razorback tried to think of something Sloan would say, something nice, but barked at her instead. “Come on.”

  She frowned, her bottom lip shaking, and looked at Sloan. “I want you to carry me.”

  “I can’t, sweetheart. My arm won’t let me.”

  “What’s wrong with your arm?”

  “I’ll show you later. Let’s hurry now.”

  Razorback knelt down in the sand. “Hop on. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to get back and make sure your mom’s okay.”

  She reluctantly climbed on his back and he took off running, the pail hitting his cheek and chin as he ran.

  He was acutely aware of the passage of time as his feet sank into the sand and he pushed off again. Their approach was anything but clandestine, the presence of their mysterious visitor tangible as they ran.

  “We need backup,” Razorback barked.

  “We need Kevlar,” said Sloan.

  So he felt it, too. They were being watched. Hell, they might as well have been in a goddamn parade. A parade of sitting ducks.

  Selena sobbed in his ear. “I want my mommy.”

  “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Razorback said. “I’ve got you now.”

  13

  Razorback tucked Selena into the front closet while he and Sloan cleared the house. Jackie was asleep on her bed fully clothed on top of the covers. He dropped to his hands and knees at the door, crawled to the bed, and woke her—telling her about the sniper with his sight trained on her room, and Selena’s injury.

  He ran back downstairs for Selena, carrying the girl as he called to Sloan, “Get my medical pack out of my bag.”

  The shades were already drawn in Selena’s room, and he inspected her injury as Jackie held her close. He was grateful to see the cut wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, the flow of blood already considerably less than it had been. The edges closed neatly beneath his steady fingers, allowing him to use strong medical glue to close it instead of needle and thread.

  Selena’s eyes were wide, staring at him while he cleaned the area, her scrutiny intense. “Are you a doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  She seemed to consider that. “You help people?”

  “That’s right.”

  She frowned. “You don’t look like a doctor.”

  “Why not?”

  “Doctors are nice.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, well, people don’t always look like you think they will. And sometimes I’m nice.” He winked at her, earning him a smile.

  Sloan was on his computer. “The motion sensors on cameras two and three have been tampered with.” He cursed under his breath. “Not just anybody could do that.”

  “You call for backup?”

  “Just a sec.”

  Jackie turned concerned eyes to Razorback. “Not just anybody? Who do you think is out there?”

  “The man who attacked you.”

  Selena cocked her head. “But Bill killed him.”

  Razorback whipped around to stare at Jackie. “Is that true?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

  He put his hand on his forehead. This was unbelievable. “After what I offered to do?”

  “This was when you first arrived. I didn’t know if I should tell you.”

  What the hell else don’t we know?

&
nbsp; He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn’t worth getting into an argument right now. He’d save that for later. “Where’s the body?”

  Jackie pursed her lips. “I threw it over the cliffs into the ocean before you got here. Well, rolled it out of the bed of the truck, actually.”

  “You rolled it out of the bed of your truck,” Razorback repeated, then turned to Sloan. “She rolled it out of the bed of the truck.”

  “I heard that,” said Sloan, pulling him aside, out of earshot from the others. “Listen, we don’t just need backup, we might need the whole damn team.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Sloan ran a hand through his hair. “You remember my friend who works for SVX? We stopped talking because he had to board his plane, but I’ve been thinking. With the storm, most of the flights were cancelled. We lucked out, remember?”

  “So what?”

  “How many planes do you think left the airport that day?”

  “I don’t know. What the hell difference does it…” His eyes went wide, the pieces sliding into place with a strained click. It was no coincidence Sloan’s friend from SVX was in the airport in Mexico City. He’d been on their damn plane, headed to the same place they’d been going.

  Right here.

  “Oh, Jesus. That’s SVX out there?”

  “I’ll have Moto check with the airline to be sure. Calling him now.” Within ten minutes, he had confirmation. “Four other Americans on that flight, all of them male, former military, mid-thirties, and employed by Secure Vigilance X-division. Mac’s on his way, but Atlanta can get here faster. Cowboy’s sending a team.”

  SVX. Four of them, here at the resort, no doubt with orders to erase Jackie and Selena from this earth. They hadn’t made their move, and he wondered what they were waiting for. He knew from experience it could be anything. The final go-ahead coming across the comm set.