Cold Day In Hell by Jerrie Alexander Page A

the curb and forgotten."
    The gunshot wound on Jack's arm had required a few stitches. Ana had no doubt he was in pain and was grateful for his help. He'd walked her through filling out the necessary forms for the United States Citizen and Immigration Services. The liaison at the Colombian Embassy had acted as if she should be thrilled, honored that the USCIS had agreed to expedite her paperwork.
    Maybe under different circumstances, she'd be happy to live in America, but not like this. She'd stolen out of town under the cover of night as if she were a criminal on the run. Worse yet, her promise of vengeance remained unfulfilled.
    Ana glanced toward home once more, but saw nothing but sky out her window. She lowered the shade and turned toward Jack. "How'd you end up babysitting me?"
    He smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. His long blond hair had been cut into a short military style, making him look older than when he'd worn board shorts and a T-shirt. The navy suit and white shirt he wore made her feel as if she were in custody.
    He seemed to be weighing his answer. "I pulled the short straw." He laughed at his own joke. "It was time. My assignment was over."
    "Speaking of over, are you still mad I held a gun on you?"
    "No, ma'am. You did what you thought was right. Turns out, you were."
    He leaned his seat back and closed his sea-blue eyes. How could he sleep when she had so many questions? They'd cut her off from Ty, leaving her to wonder about his condition.
    His boss, Nate Wolfe, had assured her Ty would live. But what about his career? Would he recover completely? 
    The thought she'd never see him again disturbed her and left a hollow feeling in her chest. No doubt, this was a case of old-fashioned hero worship. He'd ruined her plan to kill Ortega, but he'd saved her life more than once. In the few short days they'd spent together, she'd developed a deep respect for him. Feelings inside her stirred just thinking about him. Feelings best forgotten.
    Guilt rested on her shoulders, a crushing heavy weight. The loss of innocent lives plagued her. That she'd been responsible for Jack being shot and Ty's brush with death sent her spirits spiraling to an all-time low.
    She had no one in America. No friends. No family. She'd emptied her bank account, thrown some clothes into a bag, and had been whisked off to await departure. She hadn't been allowed to tell her adopted mother and father goodbye for fear Ortega had people watching them. Thankfully, the FBI had agreed to move them to a safe house.
    Judging by Jack's easy breathing, he'd dozed off. No, thanks. She'd keep her eyes open for the three-hour flight, if just to prevent screaming herself awake.
    Loneliness swamped her as she considered her future. She'd felt this lost and alone when her parents had been murdered. The pain had been as unbearable as it was at this moment.
    Today, she'd turned her back on their memory and on her promise.
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     
     
     
    Ty pushed himself off the weight bench. Placing the barbells back in their slots, he sucked up the discomfort and walked to where Nate stood watching. There were things Ty needed to be doing and recuperating wasn't one of them.
    No more lip service. He wanted facts. "Satisfied? You might as well be, because this dog-and-pony show is over. The doctor released me. That should be enough for you. Three weeks stuck in a Colombian hospital, one here in Dallas and then two in rehab. That's six weeks for two bullet wounds. Give me a break."
    "I can count," Nate snapped back. "Those bullets gave you a collapsed lung and came damn close to leaving you with permanent nerve damage."
    "Where's Ana?"
    The sides of Nate's mouth curved downward. It was a look Ty was damn tired of seeing. "That badass glare might work on your bride. Not me."
    "I have to be sure you can handle yourself in a fight."
    "You're getting ready to find out." Ty stretched to his full six-foot-two. "Answer my question."
    Nate