Cruz
The sound of Lydia’s scream was more frightening than any moment in the hooded man’s presence.
I’d been sitting on the porch sipping my coffee and looking out over the lake. When I’d woken that morning, Lydia had been missing. Once I’d seen that the sneakers and running clothes we’d bought were missing too, I knew she’d felt good enough to go on a run.
So I’d waited for her on the porch, thinking about all the ground we’d covered in such a short amount of time. For the first time, I’d felt real hope. Hope that maybe we’d find a way to be together.
I lifted my mug to my mouth when her scream penetrated the air. The mug fell to the porch, shattering into a thousand pieces and sending hot coffee out in all directions.
I rose, stilling, and peered through the woods. I thought I saw movement, but I wasn’t sure how many were out there. I was certain that scream had nothing to do with a snake on the path and everything to do with Chavez.
Hurriedly, I made my way inside the cabin, grabbing my Glock and some ammo. I slipped on my combat boots and tugged on a black T-shirt. Then I moved outside, careful to stay hidden in the shadows.
The fact that these men had attacked Lydia in broad daylight said a lot about them. They weren’t afraid. They would definitely regret that mistake.
I shot out the back door, slowly rounding the cabin. I saw more movement from near where I’d heard Lydia scream, and stayed low. As I reached the path, they were carrying her through the woods where I assumed they had a car parked nearby. They wouldn’t make it.
There were six of them. One of me. And one woman out cold. Fortunately, I had the element of surprise. I’m sure they planned to circle back and take me out once they’d put her in the car, but they weren’t going to get that chance.
I stayed low until I had three of them in clear sight. I sighted down the barrel, gave a slow exhale and pulled the trigger. Three shots, three men down. The other three whirled around, trying to find where the shots were fired from. I took off through the woods, adjacent to where they were. I needed to get the drop on them.
Tossing a piece of wood in one direction, I took off in the other, hoping they’d take the bait. They did. I came up from behind, quietly watching as they explored the area I’d wanted them to. Lydia lay on the ground, unmoving, and I prayed she was still alive. Had they knocked her out? Drugged her? I couldn’t tell.
When I was close to the nearest guy, I launched myself out of hiding, grabbing his head in my hands and jerking his chin back and to the left. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
A second man whirled around, and I fired my Glock. Two shots to the head, and he fell like a stone. The final guy, the one who’d been guarding Lydia, made a move for her, and I kicked out, landing a solid blow to his knee joint. He screamed like a banshee and then fell to the ground. I pulled my Ka-Bar from my boot, and with a quick flick of my wrist, slit his throat. He gurgled, clutching his neck where his lifeblood flowed from him, and fell lifeless to the ground.
Breathing heavily, I looked around at the carnage. It had all happened so fast, and I was still reeling from the adrenaline explosion. I rushed to Lydia’s side and bent down, pressing my fingers to her carotid artery.
She was alive. Thank God.
I scooped her up and carried her to the house, laying her on the couch. Patting her face, I searched her head for an injury. Nothing. Then I examined her arms and found a puncture wound there. They’d drugged her, and I had no idea with what.
Rushing to the kitchen, I took a washcloth from the drawer and dampened it with warm water, then moved back to her side, scooping her head up and laying it in my lap as I sat on one end of the couch. I bathed her face with the cloth, hoping something would make her wake up.
While I waited for Lydia to wake, I put in a call to the Shadow Force team.
“Ryder.”
“Hey, it’s Ortiz. Look, some of Chavez’s men found us. I have no idea how. There were six of them.”
“Are you okay? Lydia?”
“I got to them before they could take her. She’s out cold, though. Not sure what they drugged her with. How did they find us, man?”
“She doesn’t have anything from when she was at Chavez’s compound?”
“No—nothing.”
“Then it has to be embedded in her skin. No other way they could have tracked her.”
“How do I find it?”
“Look for a small raised area. Probably in her arm, her groin, or under her hairline.”
Lydia moaned in my lap, holding her head and trying to sit up.
“Gotta go. She just woke up.”
“Hey, you okay?” I took her hand in mine.
Lydia jerked away from my touch, obviously still frightened. “It’s okay. It’s me. Cruz.”
She blinked rapidly before lying back down against me.
“You saved me.” Her voice was raspy and hoarse.
“Yeah… Let me get you some water.”
I moved her head from my lap and stood to get her some water in the kitchen. When I returned, her eyes were closed again.
“Can you drink this?”
She nodded, eyes still closed, and I lifted her head so she could sip the water. She took several sips before putting her hand up that she’d had enough.
“How did they find us?”
I hated that I’d have to tell her about the tracker that no doubt I’d have to cut out of her skin.
“Ryder thinks they injected a tracker under your skin.”
Her eyes popped open at that as she tried to sit up. Her hands shot to her head as she lay back down. “Oh, that was not a good move.”
“No; you’re still under the effects of the drug. Of course, that makes this a perfect time to find the tracker so I can remove it.”
She groaned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Come on—you’re a hotshot nurse. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little cut?”
“Just because I have the training to cut other people doesn’t mean I like it done to me.”
“Duly noted.” I let my gaze grow serious, and she nodded.
“Where would they put it?”
“Ryder said to check your arms, groin, hairline at the back of your neck. I think you’d notice it in your arms, and probably the groin area. Let’s check your neck.”
She raised her head, and I helped her to a seated position. Her hair was still in a ponytail from her run, but I lifted the tiny hairs around her neck, using my fingers to poke around.
When I touched a spot just under the hair, I felt a small ridge.
“That’s not part of your skull.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Nope. That would be the tracker.” Then she groaned. “You’re going to have to shave my head, aren’t you?”
I chuckled softly, knowing that for any woman the idea of shaving any part of their hair was an unwelcome thing.
“Just a little. I’ll get my first-aid kit.”
I walked to the bathroom where I kept a fully stocked medical bag in the linen closet and grabbed a couple of towels. I heard Lydia’s words as she yelled them from the living room.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I smiled to myself. Even hurt, drugged, and facing an incision from a non-doctor, she was feisty and so damn beautiful.
Returning with the kit, I scooted her to one end of the couch. I retrieved the towels I’d brought and laid them down, then helped situate her so I could sit behind her. She was still groggy and loopy from the drugs. They would take several hours to get out of her system, but hopefully that meant she wouldn’t remember the pain I was about to inflict on her.
With careful precision, I combed her hair up and into a bun on top of her head, then took the razor and shaved away about an inch of hair right over where the tracker had been injected.
“You didn’t take too much, did you?” I could hear the emotion in her voice, and it broke my heart.
“No, mi alma. Just a little. No one will notice.”
“I won’t be able to wear my hair up for a year!”
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad. I promise.”
Lydia sniffled, and I knew the high emotions were partly from the drug they’d given her. I swiped the area with alcohol and then doused a cotton ball with iodine and spread it over the area.
With my scalpel, I readied myself to inflict pain on the woman I loved. Sure, it had to be done, but it was killing me inside.
“Okay, baby. I’m about to take it out, okay?”
She sniffled some more and made a slight movement of her head. “Just get it over with.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Slowly I sliced through the skin. She hissed at the pain, which was a kick to my stomach.
I found a small, cylinder-like device, a little bigger than a grain of rice, and used the tweezers to pull it out. I put it on the coffee table and wiped away the blood. The incision wasn’t deep, so I didn’t think I’d need to stitch her up. Instead I pushed the sides of the cut together and applied some glue, then bandaged her up.
“All done.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s out. Right there.” I pointed to the little device on the table.
“No stitches?”
“I used glue.”
“Much better.” She sighed and relaxed against the back of the couch. “What are we going to do with that?”
“We’re going to take it with us and leave it someplace away from here.”
“We have to leave, don’t we?”
“Yeah. We’ll go back to HQ. No other choice. Plus the deal goes down in two days. Hopefully, Chavez will be too busy with that to mess with trying to track us down once he realizes his men failed.”
“How did you get rid of them?”
I didn’t say anything—just met her gaze head-on.
“Right. I’m sorry, Cruz.”
“I’m not. It was us or them. Not a hard decision to make.”
“Still. I know it’s not easy taking lives.”
“Never is.” I shook my head, loving that this woman understood before I even had to say anything what it felt like to take a life. She was so intuitive, brave, and compassionate. How could I not love her? “I’m going to pack our stuff up. Can I get you anything?”
“I need a shower.”
“You’ll have to wait to wash your hair. How about I run a bath, and you soak while I pack?”
“Sounds like heaven.”
I ran the bathwater and helped Lydia into the bathroom. She wasn’t steady enough on her feet to undress and get into the bath, so I did it for her, trying my darnedest to protect her privacy and keep my eyes averted. Still, I caught enough glimpses of creamy, caramel skin to keep me up for a week.
I left the bathroom door open in case she needed something, and laid out stretchy pants and a soft, pink T-shirt for her for when she got out, then put the rest of our things in our duffel bags.
By the time I’d finished packing, the water had turned cool, and I opened a towel and held it out for Lydia to dry off with. When she was standing before me, I wrapped it around her, thankful she was finally covered. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep my eyes on the ceiling.
“I left some clothes on the bed for you. I’ll let you get dressed, and then we’ll go.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
Instead of answering, I simply nodded and headed out the door to put the bags in the car and pull it around so she wouldn’t have to walk very far. By the time I returned, she was dressed, her hair damp around the edges from the steam of the bath and hanging in messy waves around her face.
I held out my arm and helped her into the car, locking the place up tight and calling Mrs. Romero, my housekeeper, to tell her to keep the food for her family and make a special trip out to clean the place.
When I slid into the driver’s seat, Lydia was asleep.
I started the engine and turned us towards Atlanta.
***
Levi and Jolie were waiting for us when we got to the gym. Jolie rushed over to the passenger door and opened it.
“She’s still asleep?”
I nodded. “She’s been out the whole time. I stopped at a truckstop and discarded the tracker about twenty five miles south of the cabin. She didn’t even budge.”
“Let’s get her inside and in bed. How long will the effects of the drug last?”
“She should feel better tomorrow.”
I scooped Lydia up as Levi rounded to the driver’s side. “I’ll park your car.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Get her situated and meet us in the conference room. It’s good you’re back. Cade’s got a fight tomorrow night, and we need to do some planning for Saturday. Ryder’s finished the reconnaissance work, and it’s time to put the plan into action.”
“Roger that.”
I carried Lydia into my room and laid her down on the bed, covering her up and sitting beside her. Her eyes opened, and she looked confused as she took in her surroundings.
“Where—”
“We’re back at Shadow Force. My room.”
She nodded as her eyes slipped shut. “I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“It’s the drugs. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right.” She smiled, reaching for my hand. I took it and kissed her palm. The love I felt for this woman consumed me, and I realized, whether I deserved her or not, I wasn’t letting her go without a fight.
I’d prove to her father that I was what she needed. She was strong and good, and I wasn’t powerful enough to bring her down. Lydia didn’t need someone to support her financially, or someone to take care of her. She needed a partner. Someone who would lift her up and be there for her on the hard days. Someone who would love her unconditionally.
I may not be a high-society doctor, polished and well-educated, but I could protect her. I would love her. I would fight till the death to keep her safe.
And that would have to be enough.