I kept the gun down at my side, partially hidden by the sleeve and tail of my spare sports coat. I passed doctors and nurses, visitors and patients. None of them seemed to notice me, none showed even a flicker of interest in what I was doing. I tried to remember if anyone had paid attention to Malaika and me when we first arrived, but I’d been too nervous about introducing her to my folks to notice.

Someone must have.

They had been watching the room and saw their chance. They took off with her.

I was screaming inside my head even as I walked calmly and quietly through the hall. I moved down to the next floor, checking the elevators, the stairwells. The lobby was quiet, just people walking by, a few families awaiting good news in the waiting rooms. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But this was out of the ordinary, wasn’t it?

It was a big hospital. A busy hospital. How the hell was I going to find them?

The cafeteria was busy, but yielded nothing. The parking lot was bigger than three football fields put side by side, like some sort of bizarre puzzle. But there was no getaway car sitting by an exit, idling while it waited for its kidnapping victim.

Had they already gone?

And then…there was a small, two-door car sitting by the loading dock. Just sitting there, right where a truck or a delivery van would come to drop off whatever supplies it carried. Blocking the area. Two security guards were walking around it, talking quietly into their radios.

I holstered my gun and approached as casually as I could.

“Excuse me?”

One of the guards looked up, a young man, perhaps a year or two my junior. He smiled politely.

“Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if there was a problem. My cousin, he drives a car that looks a lot like this one, and it would be just his kind of stupidity to park it here.”

The guard inclined his head slightly. “We’re going to have to have it moved in the next two minutes, or the tow truck we just called will take it to impound.”

I nodded, pretending full sympathy. “I bet it is my cousin. I’ll go look for him, tell him what you said.”

“I appreciate it, buddy.”

I went into the hospital through a side door not far from the loading and unloading area. It opened into a long corridor that only had one or two doors cutting off from it. I pulled my gun back out and held it to my side, moving cautiously as I approached the first door. It must have been my lucky day because I could see two men just past the window in the door, one of them pacing, very agitated, the other holding Malaika with an arm around her shoulders, almost like a lover might do.

I really wanted to slam my fist into that man’s nose.

I waited until the pacer was just a few feet from the door. I yanked it open and grabbed him, pressing the muzzle of my gun to his head.

“You chose a really stupid place to park, my friend.”

The other guy jerked Malaika back against his chest and pressed his own gun against her temple. “Let him go.”

“Fuck you.”

The man smacked his gun against Malaika’s head, causing her to cry out. “I will do it.”

“So will I.”

“You really think I give a shit about him?”

“Thanks, Billy!”

I pulled on my guy as his anger burst through him, making him arch his back against me. He was so angry that he didn’t seem to care about the gun against his temple.

His mistake.

“You won’t hurt her. The church doesn’t allow for murder, even if you think it can be justified by your role with the Guardians.”

“‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’ Matthew 5:38.”

“It doesn’t say a life for a life. Only God can take what he has given.”

“What do you know about it?” my guy said. “Do it, Billy!”

I flipped my gun around and slammed the butt into my guy’s head. He went down in an instant, out cold on the floor. Righting the gun as quickly as I’d turned it, I aimed it level at the other guy’s head.

“Let her go right now!”

Malaika whimpered as the fool cocked the gun where it still rested against her temple. He moved his free hand from her shoulder to her mouth, gagging her with his own palm. And then he smiled, this dark, sinister grin that I’d seen a few times in my life. And it never ended well when I did see it.

He was grinning like a suicide bomber in Afghanistan.

Instinct took over. I couldn’t not react. I would question myself later, but I swear I saw his finger move on the trigger. I had no choice. I couldn’t let him kill her.

I fired. Once.

A hole appeared right between the guy’s eyes. He crumpled, but not as quickly as his friend had done. And his hand was still on Malaika’s mouth, dragging her down with him. She whimpered again, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tore at his hand, trying to force him to let her go.

“It’s okay, baby.”

I dropped my gun and went to her, holding her impossibly tight against my chest. I touched her face, moving my hands over her face, her jaw, her shoulders. I had to know that she was okay, that she was in one piece. No teeny holes in her temple.

She sobbed against my shoulder.

“He was going to kill me!”

“It’s okay now. You’re going to be okay.”

She nodded, pressing her face to my shoulder, wrapping her arms around my chest so tightly that it was both reassuring and painful.

“We have to get out of here.” I pushed her head back and forced her to look at me. “Can you do this? We have to go, but we have to be calm. Normal.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

I scooped up my gun and slid it back into the holster, holding her behind me as I checked the corridor for any sign that someone had heard the gunshot. The coast seemed to be clear. I flipped the little lock on the door knob and tugged it closed behind us, pulling Malaika up the corridor in the opposite direction of the one I’d originally come from. The door at the end of the corridor opened into the emergency room. The hall was somewhat crowded there, but everyone was so busy that they didn’t notice us slipping through.

As promised, she walked calmly, her head up, as we made our way toward the exit like we knew what the fuck we were doing. Somehow, we made it back to the car without anyone saying a single word to us.

“You okay?”

I pulled her to me again, running my thumb over her cheek. She had a bruise forming just below her eye, evidence that they hadn’t been as kind as they might have appeared.

“I’m good. I’ve had worse.”

I kissed the forming bruise, then the tip of her nose. And then her lips. She pressed into me, her hand sliding over the back of my head. For a long moment, we lingered there, finding in each other the things that made this life worth living. Reaffirming life.

I was a little worried that the Guardians had figured out where we were staying. I drove around the motel three times before I finally pulled into the parking lot.

“I think they were alone,” Malaika said. “The one called Billy said a few things, suggesting that they were meeting someone later tonight. He said they weren’t supposed to ask me questions, and he thought that was stupid. He thought they could find the ledgers on their own, but someone didn’t trust them.”

“Good. But we should get out of here, just the same.”

“Definitely,” she said with a sigh, clearly relieved.

We went into the room, and she began gathering up our belongings. I went to the phone and dialed the number I should have called days ago.

“Coyote,” I said, when a nice voice answered.

“Situation, operative?”

“I just had to kill a Guardian in the Yuma Medical Center Hospital. We need the location of a safe house.”

There was a short pause. “Take the 8 west to Whitewater. Call back for further instructions.”

“Who are you calling?” Malaika demanded.

“Stone Security. They have safe houses all over the country.”

“Do you think they can keep us safe?”

“If anyone can, it’s Jack Stone.” I got up and pulled her to my chest. “He’s the only one I trust right now with both our lives.”

She shuddered against me. “You killed that man.”

“I know.”

“He was going to kill me.”

“I know, babe.” I ran my hand over the side of her head. “I know.”

“You saved me.”

“Just like you saved me.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide as she looked into my face. “No. It’s so different.”

“And I’d do it again.”

I thought she might be frightened by the determination in my voice, by the words themselves. But she only nodded.

I kissed her, then pulled her out the door. “We have to go.”

 

 

In Whitewater, I called the number again. In seconds, they patched me through to Jack.

“There’s a place in Joshua Tree. It’s remote, easily defended. Go there, and I’ll meet you tomorrow.”

He was right about it all. The cabin was a big, three bedroom place, but it was nestled at the end of a sort of cul-de-sac outside of the Joshua Tree National Park. There were no other homes in the area, and the cabin itself was set in the center of a large piece of property that was all beautiful, dangerous desert. Not my choice of an ideal hiding place, but I could see its potential the moment we drove up.

We’d see anyone coming for miles.

It was too hot, too far for someone to come on foot.

There was absolutely nowhere to hide outside of the house.

I found the key in the little pot, right where Jack said it would be. We went inside, both exhausted even though it had only been a four-hour drive. It had been an emotionally destructive day, and we’d both been through so much already. Especially her.

The front door opened onto a large, sunken living room with huge windows that looked out over the property that seemed to go on for miles behind the house, all uninterrupted desert. The furniture was clearly expensive, soft sofas and hard wood tables. There was a massive stone fireplace and big pillows thrown all around the room. A state-of-the-art entertainment system filled one wall, including a seventy-inch flat screen television, a throwback record player, and dozens of records just waiting to be discovered.

The bedrooms were on the right side of the house, two huge bedrooms complete with their own bathrooms and small sitting areas. A set of stairs led up to the massive balcony at the back of the house and a luxurious master bedroom that was more than I could ever describe with simple words. More couches, another huge television, a fireplace. And that bed…

The kitchen was to the left of the living room. It looked like something one might see on a cooking show, complete with stainless steel appliances, a wine cooler, and a fully stocked pantry. I dragged Malaika in there and pulled random things out of the fridge, deciding our first priority should be nourishing our bodies.

“You cook?”

I rolled my shoulders. “My mother always thought it was important that a man know how to feed himself in case his soul mate took her time finding him.”

“Your mother’s a smart woman.”

I inclined my head as I began to dice onions and peppers and tomatoes, preparing the base for a good marinara sauce.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to tell them what was happening or stick around longer.”

“I am, too.”

“Your mother…I know those sorts of seizures are serious, but she has a good chance of coming out of the coma without too much lasting damage.”

I didn’t respond, not sure what good words would do. I knew I’d let my family down by not being around, by not helping provide for them. I knew how desperate things had been, but I hadn’t gone to them because I’d held on to the stupid belief that I’d be able to make things right if I stayed in Ellaville. But nothing was going to make this right. Things had gone too far.

“I don’t know if she wants to recover,” I said after a minute, keeping my attention on the cutting board and the sauté pan, where the onions were beginning to become translucent.

“Why would you say that?”

“It could have been an accident.”

“But you don’t think it was.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I dumped tomatoes and peppers into the pan with the onions. “My mother is a good woman. She works hard. But she has this belief that she’s a burden on everyone because of her condition. She believes that it’s a distraction that no one should have to deal with.” I shook my head slowly as I stirred my vegetables, watching them soften in the melted butter. “When I was a kid, she would make comments about diabetes, talk about the cost of the insulin and her medical supplies, the nuisance of having to go to the doctor every three months. And she worried about complications that would make the burden even heavier.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“If she carried that much guilt about it when things were good, can you imagine how heavy that guilt must have been when things weren’t so good?” I glanced at her. “She never wanted to be a burden, especially to us kids. To have Quaid take on the role of caregiver to her? That must have been so hard on her.”

“Quentin—”

“My parents are both such proud people! They would both rather work themselves to death than be dependent on me or Quaid. That’s why my father would always send back the checks I mailed to him. That’s why my mother wouldn’t go to the doctor, why she relied on subpar insulin. And it’s probably why she’s in the hospital now. And if she wakes, if she realizes how bad it got and that they rang up such a large bill to keep her alive, she’ll be horrified!”

Malaika came up behind me, her hand resting on my hip as I pushed the vegetables around in the pan, getting ready to pour a large can of crushed tomatoes and a couple of small cans of tomato paste into the mixture.

“You can’t force your money on them. You can’t force them to behave in a way that goes contrary to their nature.”

“No. But if I’d moved to Yuma with them, if I’d gotten a job and contributed to the household in that way, things might have been better for them. She might not have felt like such a burden.”

“And maybe you would have gotten a job, but it didn’t pay enough. Or you couldn’t find work at all. What are the chances you could have found a job like the one you have now? One that pays as generously?”

“I don’t know. But I could have tried.”

“Then you would have just been another mouth for them to feed, just another bed they would have had to pay for.”

“Malaika—”

“Before you beat yourself up for something you can’t control, you have to acknowledge that you don’t know that things would have been better had you been there. It’s quite possible you might have simply suffered alongside them, doing nothing to make their situation better. At least staying in Ellaville, you—”

“Wasted my time trying to get revenge on the wrong person!”

“You saved up money to put a down payment on the ranch. You tried to get it back.”

“And failed. I failed at everything I’ve tried to do since I came home.”

Malaika forced me to turn around and look at her. “You haven’t failed. You met me, and I happen to have that bank in the palm of my hand. What makes you think I can’t pull a few strings, find a way to secure that ranch for you and your family?”

“And what makes you think I’d even ask?”

“You don’t have to ask. Sometimes people just want to do the right thing.”

I turned away from her, focusing once more on my sauce. “It might all be for nothing now. If my mother doesn’t recover, that will kill my father. He’s never spent a moment without her beside him. He won’t survive if she doesn’t.”

“There’s still you. There’s still your brother.”

I liked that she didn’t try to gloss over my doom and gloom prediction. But I hated that she brought up Quaid. I felt the most guilt for abandoning him. He’d had to take so much onto his own shoulders when all of this went down last year. He’d been ripped from his friends, from his school, from the only home he’d ever known. And then to have the responsibility of caring for our mother added to the weight…it was just too much.

“Nothing I can do now will make up for what Quaid’s been through.”

“No. But you can offer him a future. You can give him hope.”

“Maybe.”

“There’s no maybe about it, Quentin. It’s the truth.”

But all of this was contingent on us surviving the next few weeks, on escaping the wrath of the Guardians.

I didn’t say it aloud because I didn’t want to frighten her, but the aggression that Billy had shown in the hospital today had shaken me a little. It felt like I was back in Afghanistan, facing off against a terrorist who deeply believed in what he was fighting for. These Guardians really believed whatever poison their mysterious leader was pouring in their ears. A man like that would do just about anything to see that his cause was advanced.

If they wanted those ledgers, they weren’t going to stop until they had them.

We didn’t talk much more as I finished my sauce and boiled a little pasta to pour it over. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table—a lovely walnut construction with etchings along the edges—savoring the meal and the fruity red wine I’d found to go with it. My mother always said things looked brighter on a full stomach.

Malaika rinsed our dishes in the sink as I cleaned the sauté pan, then ran her hand up the center of my back. “I’m gonna go up.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. I want to check things out first.”

She kissed my shoulder. “Be careful.”

I watched her go, loving the sight of her hips moving under that tight dress as she climbed the stairs. My ribs still burned, and the wound was more inflamed this evening than it had been this morning. But that didn’t mean other parts of me weren’t still healthy and working just as well as before. Just the sight of her ignited a heat deep in my soul that couldn’t be ignored.

I finished the dishes and hung up the towel I’d been using. I flipped off the lights and slipped out the front door, slipping my gun from the holster as I went. The night air was cool on my skin, already taking on a certain chill that the heat of the evening hadn’t even hinted at.

I loved the desert.

I walked out into the yard and took a wide path around the house, listening to the silence and searching the shadows for any sign of trouble. I became distracted as I rounded the back corner of the house and caught sight of the uncovered windows of the master bedroom. Malaika was there, digging through her bag, looking for something she wasn’t finding. After a minute, she gave up and went to the fireplace, squatting to light the kindling that had already been set up in the clean space. The windows were so wide and so revealing that I could see the smile on her face when it lit.

A stranger watching her might think that her life was perfectly normal, and that she was perfectly content in it. I almost wished that were true.

What luck had brought this beautiful woman into my life? I knew I didn’t deserve it. I was a man who used women to get what I wanted, a man who didn’t think twice about the idea of deflowering a young woman just to humiliate her father. I was a cruel man.

I didn’t deserve her.

I continued on my path, wondering if I’d dragged Malaika into this danger, or if this danger would have found her with or without me. I wasn’t completely sure. Maybe someone else would have been smarter and told her not to take the ledgers in front of so many witnesses. Maybe someone else would have sent her back to Albuquerque before she fired Truesdale, before the Guardians could even learn her name.

I wasn’t sure if my parents’ situation was somehow my fault. I did know that my games with Truesdale hadn’t made it any better. And I didn’t know if I could have done better to protect Malaika. But I did know that the Guardians were behind everything that had happened to my family and to Malaika these past few days. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

The Guardians were going down, one way or another. And I wanted to be in the front row, standing next to Jack, when we brought them down.

 

 

Finished with my walk around the house, I let myself back in through the front door, slipped my gun back into its holster, and engaged the security system Jack had given me all the codes to. I hoped we wouldn’t need it, but I was grateful it was there just the same.

A quick check of the house, and I headed upstairs, the weight of the day resting on my shoulders. I wasn’t really paying attention when I walked through the bedroom door, more staring at the floor and feeling my overwhelming guilt. But when I did look up, the sight that greeted me was better than Christmas morning to a ten-year-old boy.

The lights were off, with just the glow of the fire offering any sort of illumination. Malaika, completely devoid of clothing, was in the center of that massive bed—a king size, heavy, wood-framed bed with carvings on the headboard and footboard, and thin, translucent material hanging down from the wide canopy—the bedclothes pulled back, and her perfect body resting back against the pillows. One leg was bent at the knee, the other laid out in all of its glory, her hands resting lightly on that raised knee. Her hair was down, the heavy curls placing her features in contouring shadows. She tilted her head as I studied her, her hair falling to one side to remove the shadows.

She looked like a model in one of those men’s magazines, an airbrushed photograph of divine eroticism. But there was nothing airbrushed about Malaika. She was perfection all on her own.

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked, casually lifting one hand and teasing one erect nipple.

“I thought you said we should wait until my wound heals.”

“I’ve decided it’s healed enough.”

“Have you, now?”

She looked at me, one eyebrow arched. “Do you disagree?”

I could have been on my deathbed, and I wouldn’t have disagreed. But I couldn’t give in that easy, could I?

“I think we’ve had more than enough physical activity today. Running from the hospital, driving up here. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you tired, baby?”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Do you want me to give you a back rub? Maybe work out some of the kinks?”

I tilted my head, pretending to think about it. “I suppose that would be all right.”

She slid her fingers down over her breast and along her belly. “Do you want me to get dressed?”

“You’re fine just like that.”

She smiled, patting the mattress beside her. “Then come sit.”

I pulled off my shirt and kicked off my boots as I made my way to her. It took every bit of control I had not to bury myself against her, to take her right there and then.

She ran her hands over my shoulders and began to knead at the muscles there, her hands much stronger than they seemed. I closed my eyes and rotated my head, letting some of the tension go. Her hands concentrated on my shoulders for a few minutes, but then began to move down the length of my spine, biting into each muscle, each knot. I leaned forward, giving her access to every inch she wanted to explore.

When she leaned forward to kiss the back of my neck, her breasts brushed against my upper back. It was as erotic as it was innocent. I reached over my shoulder and tugged lightly at a thick strand of hair, twisting my head to steal a kiss. She sighed against my mouth, opening to me without hesitation. Once again, I was overwhelmed with this feeling of gratitude, of wonder. What had I done to deserve this beautiful woman?

I turned and pushed her down against the mattress, snatched up her wrists and pinned them to her sides. We kissed again, but with more heat, with the undeniable passion that was building between us. She pressed her body up against mine, tugging at her hands to be allowed to touch, to explore.

“It’s my turn to be in control,” I whispered against her lips.

She looked up at me, a hint of fear in her eyes. But it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“I trust you.”

I knew what control meant to her. She’d hinted at it before she told me her story, but now I understood it better than I had before. The fact that she was giving it over to me was bigger than the joy I found in her body, the wonder I found in her choice to be with me. It was a confirmation of this connection I felt to her, this thing that was bigger than just the two of us, just the sum of our adventures together. Sometimes it didn’t take a lot for two people to know they were meant for each other.

I buried my mouth against her throat and then moved down to her breasts, my tongue dancing around her nipples as she arched her back, pressing up against me. I moved slowly, as she’d done that first night, touching and exploring every inch of her until I knew it like I knew my own body. And then I kept going. I couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t taste enough, couldn’t feel enough.

I sat back after what seemed like hours and pulled her limp body into my arms. She watched me, her eyes aware, but the rest of her lost in the lingering pleasure of an orgasm. She laid her head on my shoulder, her breath hot against my neck. I kissed her forehead, her neck, her shoulder, my hands still exploring the depths of her, my fingers dancing in places that were meant only for me. She moved her hips slightly, letting me know she was still with me despite the lack of muscle tone in her entire body.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I said against her ear. “You push me over cliffs I didn’t even know existed.”

She kissed my throat. “It’s mutual,” she whispered.

I stole her lips, a long, lingering kiss, my fingers moving so deep that she moaned against my lips. She moaned again when I pulled away, ready to remove the barrier of my jeans, to take this thing to the last level. She helped me, tugging at my jeans until she could get her hand inside. I closed my eyes, my own moans slipping from between my lips as she lazily massaged that deep, aching itch that had been there for what seemed like forever.

“Stop,” I whispered, pulling her hands away. “You’re making me lose it.”

“Would that be so bad?”

I groaned, biting a little harder at her throat than I’d intended. She cried out, the sound just making that itch grow. She reached for me again, but I caught her wrists and jerked them behind her back.

“It’s my turn, remember?”

“I want you,” she moaned, the heat in her words having a bigger impact than the words themselves.

I slapped her ass, hard enough to send a ringing sound throughout the entire room. “You’re mine. I decide when you get what you want.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll take it on my schedule.”

“Only if I want you to.”

I slapped her ass again, causing her to cry out. But there was a dark determination in her eyes that made them hard like jewels. She kissed me, but then she bit my bottom lip, drawing blood.

And then she moved her hips, forcing herself against me, rubbing that velvety spot against me until I was willing to do just about anything to be inside of her, to fill her the way she so desperately wanted me to.

If it was what she wanted…

I lifted her up, twisting her body around like she weighed nothing, forcing her up against the headboard and the wall above it. She cried out as I twisted her arms behind her back as I moved up behind her, holding her with one hand, tearing at my jeans with the other.

“You want this?” I hissed against her neck.

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Can you handle it?”

She groaned. “I can take anything you have to give.”

“Tough bitch.” I nibbled at her neck, loosening my hold on her hands. “Show me how tough you are.”

She reached down immediately and grasped me, pulling me to the place where she wanted me. Her hips moving back against me, rotating slightly to tease me. I let her take control, let her guide me, let her decide when this would happen. And she did, drawing me inside of her like it was all that mattered, like it was all she’d been thinking about for a lifetime.

She rested her hands on the top of the headboard and pressed back against me, waiting for me to move. I found a rhythm almost immediately, rocking against her beautiful body as she pushed back, meeting my thrusts with perfect movements. I reached around and pressed my hand to her belly for a second, then let my finger find that button that had already pushed her into orgasm once before on this night. She reached down and encouraged me to add more pressure, to rub with more force than I ever would have done on my own.

“Is it good, baby?”

“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “So good!”

I forgot about my family, about the Guardians. I even managed to forget about the pain in my ribs for those moments locked with her against that headboard. I forgot everything but her, everything but the pleasure screaming from between her lips, the pleasure that locked itself against my body. It was heaven, losing myself in her.

When it was over, true exhaustion fell over us both. We collapsed against the pillows and snuggled close, her back against my chest. I slept more peacefully than I had since I was a carefree child, the security that came from feeling her against me offering a peace of mind I’d not had since then.

Was this what love felt like? Or was it just good fucking sex? I had no idea, but I wasn’t about to question it.

I just wanted to soak in it for a few hundred years.