The man outside the window was supposed to be long dead, smothered in a collapsed tunnel in South America. But her vision didn’t lie. Ramon Chavez, the drug lord who’d taken her hostage a year ago, had somehow survived and now had a gun to Lauren’s head.
The teen appeared dazed, as if she’d been drugged with a mild sedative. Apparently the bastard wasn’t underestimating women this time. Suddenly the scorpion sting made sense, too. He’d taken time to import the deadly critters from his part of the world, a message she hadn’t understood, damn it.
Guilt sliced deeper than any poisonous sting. How could she have brought this hell to Rick’s daughter? Every tear streak down the girl’s face made Nola’s heart squeeze tighter. And a coat. The child needed a coat to cover her in those little tank tops she favored.
What a silly thought as the teen shivered in fear with a gun pressed to her head, but the maternal instinct flowered to life so fiercely, it was all Nola could do to keep from launching across the lawn to rip out Chavez’s throat.
Nola couldn’t imagine why in hell the man would come here for her, but then he hadn’t been sane in those days she’d spent with him before. Time for musing would come later. Only Lauren counted now.
“Rick,” she whispered under her breath, trying not to move her mouth in case it upset the man outside. Slowly, she moved toward the door with him. “His name is Ramon Chavez. It’s the South American drug lord who held me captive a year ago. We all thought he died. He’s wily and he’s strong. Don’t underestimate him because of his age.”>She perched a hand on her hip. “Excuse me, but Nola’s already awake and very much pissed off over being excluded.”
Chapter 15
Nola hobbled on her heel toward the cluster of males. She hated how her aching foot put her at a disadvantage. She wanted to stride, act confident, be in control, but doggone it, the scorpion sting hurt.
Her brain stumbled over the notion that Rick must feel this way all the time—at a disadvantage as he limped through life, robbed of the physical edge he’d worked so hard to achieve in his chosen profession.
“I’m very curious about these ‘plans’ of yours.” Nola swatted Rick on the back of the shoulder. “And very curious about why you felt the need to keep this a secret from me.”
What was up with their testosterone dance? These three flyboys were supposed to be on her side.
“Thanks for the big brother act, guys, but it’s not needed. I’m feeling much better now.” A bit of an overstatement, but at least she was on her feet again. “Rick’s not here to do anything but scare off the bogeyman.”
Crusty hooked an arm around her shoulders. “Doesn’t he know you’re quite capable of fighting bogeymen on your own?”
Rick slid his arm around her shoulders and inched her away from the man. “Yes, he does, but there’s strength in numbers.”
His words took her by surprise, this different style of thinking from Rick than she’d heard since they reconnected that week. Was he starting to see possibilities for himself after recovery? A way back to really living again? Something wonderful to consider.
Nola elbowed him in the side. “You’re not going to ditch me in the hotel room while you ‘boys’ make your plans.”
His three cohorts pretended a sudden interest in a televised church service on the waiting room TV.
Rick tucked her closer. “You almost died last night. If you’d been alone, you very well could have died before help arrived and transported you to the hospital.”
She heard the concern in his voice and it touched her heart in places that had been cold for far too long. Except she couldn’t let him take over her life. She could accept his help—all of their help—but she had to be a part of the process. “I’m a lot stronger than I look, and this is my life we’re talking about. Maybe I don’t want you putting your life in danger for me any longer.”
“Too bad.”
She stepped away from his protective hold. “I’m not backing down.”
“Well, neither am I.” Rick’s smile faded.
Bronco grinned and slung an arm over Mako’s and Crusty’s shoulders. “Ah man, this is gonna get good. I wish they served popcorn with the show.”
Nola silenced them with her best glare, then continued. “I appreciate the help, but here’s how I predict this is going to shake down. Since Lauren’s no longer in the picture here, now that she’s on the plane to her mother’s, we’re going back to my place.”
Rick started to step forward, paused, sighed. Put his hands on his h*ps and hung his head. “Damn it, you have to realize this bastard is ready to make his move. The police aren’t going to offer any more protection than before.”
“I realize that.” And of course it scared her. Only a fool wouldn’t be frightened. “But I believe this maniac will find me no matter where I go. Why prolong the torture of waiting and wondering?”
Rick put both his hands on her arms and pulled her to his chest. “To give the cops more time to figure out who this guy is. You’re safer at a hotel. We’re going to arm ourselves and be ready. It’s all we can do.”
His chest felt so good and broad and a perfect resting place after weeks of being on her own facing this fear. Her foot hurt. Her heart hurt. But she wouldn’t be shoved aside.
She pushed back. “You’re not cutting me out, Rick.”
His jaw jutted. “You’re a wounded trooper.”