involved.
He didn’t give ten damns right now how much professional training she had. This was his rescue. His gig. And he wasn’t lowering his guard for an instant until he had her safely back at base.
The back load ramp groaned as it closed, sealing them inside with the crew chief and flight engineer. Jose dropped into a seat and strapped in beside Stella just as the CV-22 lifted off. Still, she had his gun trained on the kid.
Could she do it? Shoot a teenager?
Their time together hadn’t involved work, not after the initial meet-up in the Gulf of Aden. They’d just been two people dating, getting to know each other. He hadn’t seen her on the job, and he sure as hell hadn’t seen a woman who could draw down on a teen.
Had her nerve-wracking time as a hostage messed with her head? Maybe he shouldn’t have given her the gun after all. He closed his hand over hers, slipping the weapon from her grip, and she didn’t even protest. But then perhaps she was thinking like an undercover agent after all, trying not to draw attention to her training.
Although her standoff with the kid a few minutes ago had been mighty damn official.
The engines groaned as they shifted, pointing the rotors forward. The CV-22 accelerated, speeding forward at double the pace of a helicopter. They were that much closer to freedom.
Completely free for her to walk away from him.
He blinked the fog of denial clear from his eyes and scoured the hollow inside of the aircraft. Almost as hollow as he felt.
Sutton pointed at the kid, shouting over the roar of the engines. “You were with them, the ones who held us at the compound.”
Jose looked fast at Stella. Had she known that too from the second she saw the kid? If so, no wonder she’d drawn a weapon. And no wonder she hadn’t wanted to let the boy go.
The teen held up his cuffed hands, fingers splaying in some kind of universal pleading gesture. “They made me. I didn’t have any choice. Until now. I came to you.”
Sutton turned wild, scared eyes to Jose. “Are you just going to believe what he says?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jose answered. “He’s in custody. We’ll sort it out later.”
So far they’d managed to keep her real identity from Sutton, although the student had been eyeing them suspiciously since realizing they had once dated.
The way they’d worked together to get to this point had been so damn smooth, even when they’d been derailed by the land mine. Why the hell couldn’t she see how good they’d been together? He’d wanted her to just accept him as he was, a great big flawed human being who was doing the best he could, one day at a time. He could already hear her answer of how he should be, what he could be—a father. God, she’d even suggested he go to medical school.
With her sitting so close, he found himself thinking about her tearful, angry request during their last fight. Really thinking, even though it made his gut knot. The engine slowed again, jerking as the engines shifted upward like a helicopter again. Landing. Time to think was over.
Before he could gather his scrambled thoughts, the back hatch opened again. The bright sun swelled inside, stinging his eyes. He blinked, seeing the hangar that held their command center, the CIA dudes and SEALs waiting. He was back where he started.
Except now the welcoming crew included more than the CIA dudes and the SEALs. His PJ team stood with them—Brick, Data, and Fang out front.
And in that moment, Jose was the thirteen-year-old kid again, sitting in front of the TV watching an Air Force recruiting commercial. He saw what had gotten him out of his screwed-up home, away from his family. He saw what had pulled him up again after he’d surrendered to the family legacy and become an alcoholic.
And he knew without question there wasn’t a middle ground for him with Stella. All he had was this rapidly closing window of time with her.
***
Stella watched the clock as the somewhat nerdy-looking
He didn’t give ten damns right now how much professional training she had. This was his rescue. His gig. And he wasn’t lowering his guard for an instant until he had her safely back at base.
The back load ramp groaned as it closed, sealing them inside with the crew chief and flight engineer. Jose dropped into a seat and strapped in beside Stella just as the CV-22 lifted off. Still, she had his gun trained on the kid.
Could she do it? Shoot a teenager?
Their time together hadn’t involved work, not after the initial meet-up in the Gulf of Aden. They’d just been two people dating, getting to know each other. He hadn’t seen her on the job, and he sure as hell hadn’t seen a woman who could draw down on a teen.
Had her nerve-wracking time as a hostage messed with her head? Maybe he shouldn’t have given her the gun after all. He closed his hand over hers, slipping the weapon from her grip, and she didn’t even protest. But then perhaps she was thinking like an undercover agent after all, trying not to draw attention to her training.
Although her standoff with the kid a few minutes ago had been mighty damn official.
The engines groaned as they shifted, pointing the rotors forward. The CV-22 accelerated, speeding forward at double the pace of a helicopter. They were that much closer to freedom.
Completely free for her to walk away from him.
He blinked the fog of denial clear from his eyes and scoured the hollow inside of the aircraft. Almost as hollow as he felt.
Sutton pointed at the kid, shouting over the roar of the engines. “You were with them, the ones who held us at the compound.”
Jose looked fast at Stella. Had she known that too from the second she saw the kid? If so, no wonder she’d drawn a weapon. And no wonder she hadn’t wanted to let the boy go.
The teen held up his cuffed hands, fingers splaying in some kind of universal pleading gesture. “They made me. I didn’t have any choice. Until now. I came to you.”
Sutton turned wild, scared eyes to Jose. “Are you just going to believe what he says?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jose answered. “He’s in custody. We’ll sort it out later.”
So far they’d managed to keep her real identity from Sutton, although the student had been eyeing them suspiciously since realizing they had once dated.
The way they’d worked together to get to this point had been so damn smooth, even when they’d been derailed by the land mine. Why the hell couldn’t she see how good they’d been together? He’d wanted her to just accept him as he was, a great big flawed human being who was doing the best he could, one day at a time. He could already hear her answer of how he should be, what he could be—a father. God, she’d even suggested he go to medical school.
With her sitting so close, he found himself thinking about her tearful, angry request during their last fight. Really thinking, even though it made his gut knot. The engine slowed again, jerking as the engines shifted upward like a helicopter again. Landing. Time to think was over.
Before he could gather his scrambled thoughts, the back hatch opened again. The bright sun swelled inside, stinging his eyes. He blinked, seeing the hangar that held their command center, the CIA dudes and SEALs waiting. He was back where he started.
Except now the welcoming crew included more than the CIA dudes and the SEALs. His PJ team stood with them—Brick, Data, and Fang out front.
And in that moment, Jose was the thirteen-year-old kid again, sitting in front of the TV watching an Air Force recruiting commercial. He saw what had gotten him out of his screwed-up home, away from his family. He saw what had pulled him up again after he’d surrendered to the family legacy and become an alcoholic.
And he knew without question there wasn’t a middle ground for him with Stella. All he had was this rapidly closing window of time with her.
***
Stella watched the clock as the somewhat nerdy-looking
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