CHAPTER TEN
Marcus let the force of the punch in his gut expel throughout his body. He absorbed the pain by numbing his receptors to the sensation and waited calmly. Heading down to Mexico had been risky with little planning behind the mission. He’d been in a blind rage. When Ava contacted him, he knew he had to act fast, and it fitted the self-destruct mode he was in. Meeting her at the hotel wasn’t his smartest move, nor was not discussing it fully with his team. It led to them both being caught in a compromising position and dragged here after a thorough stripping and beating. He sat bound and naked, apart from his underwear.
He didn’t believe Carlos would kill him right now although he might wish to. He knew the man wanted information. Tonight, as the humid air washed through the open windows and touched his sweaty, dirt-caked skin, he sensed Ella as if she watched close by. He didn’t want her anywhere near this place and refused to answer her sultry voice that played in his mind. Once before, at home on the compound when he was in a briefing with Steel, the smell of her rose perfume washed over him as if she had walked right by, but she wasn’t in the room. This connection between them wasn’t intense, but it was there.
“Drayton, listen to me. If you tell me who you’re working for and where your men are, I’ll kill you quickly. If not, despite your training, you will beg for mercy. My men know a thousand ways to inflict pain and how to draw the torture out.”
Marcus snorted and spat out more blood and fluid right at the feet of Carlos. He squinted up at him from his one good eye. The other was shut closed from the brutal beating earlier. Inhaling, he tried to focus. How had he been so stupid?
“And my men know a million ways. I wouldn’t place any bets on being successful yet.”
Jose Carlos pulled out a sharp knife from his belt and cleaned his nails with the tip, striding at a quick pace back to Marcus. He stood in front of him and launched the knife, stabbing the long blade right in his thigh, and pulled it out.
Blood spurted on his skin. Intense pain ricocheted through his veins like scorching fire touching the nerves and signaling his brain, but instead of screaming, he focused on his dream.
Ava screamed. “Don’t kill him.”
At her words, the guard slapped her hard across the face and Carlos marched toward her. Marcus shot his gaze over at the dazed but beautiful woman. She didn’t deserve any of this. Her only guilt was to fall in love with a depraved monster.
“You’re a coward, plain and simple. You’re not a man. That’s why your woman came to me. She wanted a real man,” Marcus growled out. He said the words, sure that Ava was about to be beaten further; he wanted to direct Carlos’s attention back at him.
Sure enough, Carlos switched around and faced him with a sneer on his face as he wiped his mouth. “Take her and pass her around the men. Let them have their fun with her. Tell them she likes it rough. I don’t care what happens to the whore after that—just get her out of my sight.”
The guard twisted Ava’s arm and dragged her as she kicked at him. She screamed as he smacked her face. “Bastard.” She spat into his face. The guard hauled her out. Even now, she was defiant.
She reminded him of Ella. Marcus struggled against his ties and jerked the wooden chair forward. He needed to get free. A round of gunfire peppered around outside, one after another. An explosion shook the building, and smoke drifted in from the window. Footsteps raced down below in the courtyard and more bursts of rapid fire shook around them. Two armed guards burst through the door.
“Senor, you need to leave.”
Grenades exploded outside the windows and Carlos stared over at Marcus. “Kill him,” he said to the biggest guard. He collected some papers from his desk and left.
The hefty lout with more than enough around his waist for two aimed his unsteady gun at Marcus. Sweat poured off the man.
He looked at the gunman, who pointed his weapon, ready to kill him. He closed his eyes, ready, but it was funny—he saw the most beautiful vision of his life. His dream.
Ella.
Her long blonde hair ran down her back. A wide smile turned her pale pink lips upward and he longed to kiss them. She was carefree and happy, like he had never seen her before. When his eyes rested on the bundle in her arms, he frowned and knew it wasn’t real. The baby she held was perfect, with soft pale cheeks. A beautiful boy. A hungry cry rent out from the baby’s mouth and Ella rocked him back and forth as her tears fell. Marcus watched, enraptured by the scene, which seemed more real than anything he could imagine.
A shot fired and he was certain he was dead—although the sound of crickets made him wonder.
“Drayton, what the fuck? Drayton. Wake up. Wake the fuck up, man.”
A hard slap ricocheted across his cheek and confirmed he was very much alive. He snapped his head up and stared at a face covered in thick green paint inches from his. Jake’s eyes studied him. He was a sight for sore eyes as he blinked to take in the fact his team was here. Jake spoke into his headset and Marcus could hear a muffled voice answer him.
“Did you have to hit me so fucking hard?” Marcus said.
Jake smiled. “Asshole. I thought you were fucking dead.” Jake watched him and inspected the blood oozing from Marcus’s leg.
“Get these off me. We have to find Ava.” Marcus pulled at his bindings.
Jake crouched down and cut the duct tape holding Drayton. “We need to stop the bleeding. You aren’t going anywhere, man.”
Once free, Marcus jumped up but fell right back down. “Argh…shit.” He slumped in the chair and gripped his bleeding thigh. His leg throbbed like a bitch. There was no way he was going to be able to stand, let alone go charging after those bastards.
Jake darted around the room and returned moments later with towels from the restroom, which he tore into long strips. He pressed one on the wound. “Press it hard while I put this around your leg to stop the bleeding. Where the hell are your clothes, man?” Jake raised an eyebrow to look at his friend.
Marcus pressed on the stab wound and held onto the pain. Where the hell had they taken Ava? Jake tightened the strip of material like a tourniquet with all his force and Marcus pressed his head back with the burning agony. He balled his fist and let go of the dressing on his wound as the edges of the room blurred with the pain. “Son of a bitch.”
More gunfire sounded outside, along with bright-white flashes of light filling the sky like lightning. Footsteps pounded nearby. Shadow and Bear charged into the office, dressed in full combat gear and war paint, their automatic weapons loaded and ready to fire.
Shadow walked over and stood next to Jake, looking down at Marcus. “Dude, you’ve been working out. Nice muscles, bro. But we need to move, clothed or not. Payday and Preacher are putting on a good light show, but our lift will be here in ten, man.”
Bear stood on guard, waiting by the door to check for any intruders.
“Not before we get Ava.”
“Boss, who the fuck is Ava?” Shadow stalked toward the desk and rifled through the cigar box, collecting several large smokes.
“It doesn’t matter who she is. You need to find her.” Marcus lifted his gaze toward Jake. Once his friend tied off the makeshift bandage, he tried to stand but wobbled as Jake held him.
“Go and find her, Jake. Don’t tell me you didn’t have eyes already on her. You know what she looks like. She’s important. Take Bear.”
Marcus met Jake’s direct stare, which said without words what the fuck, man. He knew that look, but he didn’t care. This was important. He held his ground.
“Just find her,” he barked.
Jake nodded and left with Bear close on his heels. Marcus studied his body covered in dirt, blood, and his own spit. His ribs burned from the kicking he had received earlier. Marcus grimaced as he stalked closer to study Shadow, smoking one of the cigars he had taken, out of his one open eye.
“You look like shit, boss.”
Marcus stood up straight, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest, and took several steps closer to his friend. “I don’t smell too good either…” He gasped for air. It was getting harder to breathe. “Shadow, any minute now…I’m going…pass out…I’m a dead weight…I think…a collapsed lung….” The pain seared through him and the ability to take a breath of air got more difficult each time. Marcus knew what a pneumothorax was like, and this was it. He stared at Shadow, who calmly stamped his cigar out and charged at him before he hit the ground.
Shadow lay him on the ground and darted away. The room and his consciousness level were fading fast. His heart pounded in his chest, increasing the pain already there because of the air trapped in his lungs. A blurred picture of Shadow as he leaned over him holding a transparent plastic tube in his hand zoomed closer.
“It’s gonna hurt, man.”
Marcus stared at his brother-in-arms with his eyes wide open. Shadow never showed any nerves; he was made of titanium and the closest to a medic they had on his team. He stared down as Shadow touched his ribs on the left side, feeling for the right space to make the insertion. This wasn’t a new procedure to either of them. Marcus trusted his teammate to do what was necessary. Shit, he was getting too old for all this.
“Just…do…”
Before the last word left his mouth, Shadow stabbed a thin, sharp blade into his chest and pushed a firm tube against his ribs. The built-up pressure inside instantly released and the pain became more tolerable. Marcus inhaled, holding his hand on his rib, while Shadow taped the tube securely into an empty water bottle.
“This is going to have to do. It’s some of the tape from earlier. A million uses for duct tape and a Bic pen. You’re going to need a tetanus shot and some serious antibiotics when you get back. Right, let’s get you up. We’ve got to move.”
By the time Marcus stood up, a bare-chested Jake re-entered the room, holding a flagging Ava, who wore the missing shirt. Bear followed alongside four women, one carrying an infant.
“Shit.”
It was just as well he had ordered the bus to pick them up; by the looks of it, they would need the space. The Airbus helicopter would fit at least eleven people. The women—some looked still in their teens—were unkempt, barefoot, dazed, and pumped with God knows what kind of drugs. Ava lifted her head and charged toward him, leaving him with no choice but to wrap his arms around her as she sobbed.
“He will not stop. He will kill you, Marcus, and your men. You need to leave when he realizes it’s only a few of you, not the whole damn army.”
He eased her away from his ribs. The pain was raw and the tube a temporary fix. He assessed Ava’s condition and stared over her head at the others. “Is this all of the women you mentioned?” he asked.
“There’s more, but they’ve been moved. He uses them for big parties if he has investors coming into town, but first he takes them to be trained. I don’t know where.”
“Okay, well, we can at least help the ones here, but I will be back to help the others.”
Jake yelled that they needed to move. A young, dark girl of no more than nineteen rushed over, carrying her baby, which she pressed into Ava’s arms.
“Take him. Yo no lo quiero,” she said, her brown eyes wide.
Marcus reached out to touch the girl, but she flinched at his touch and ran away. “Stop her,” he shouted at his men.
Bear and Shadow charged at the girl, who slipped through their grasp and ran to the open balcony. She looked back briefly. Bear and Shadow reached the girl’s position just as she jumped off without a sound.
“Fuck.”
Marcus limped as fast as he could to check on the girl below. There, sprawled out at an awkward angle, was her body and a growing pool of blood.
This day was getting worse by the minute.
“Shit, fucking shit—we’re out of here now. Move. Bear, Shadow, you follow at the back.”
Marcus hobbled as fast as he could with Jake holding him around the waist. His strength seeping away fast. The villa was oddly silent as they made their way outside. He expected more retaliation, more gunfire. He was in front with Jake. The women, Ava, and the baby were in the middle. In the back, Bear and Shadow guarded their behinds to make a safe exit. This was a mess. He stared over at the sleeping baby, who had an incredible thatch of thick dark hair and was oblivious of his mother’s absence.
****
The call came from Steel at two’ o clock in the morning to inform her that Marcus was finally on board the helo. He wasn’t expected to touch down until late morning due to refueling, but once she knew he was airborne, she couldn’t sleep as she remembered Steel’s conversation.
“Before you ask, he’s all right…”
Ella sat up. She knew that Steel was hesitating because he paused mid-flow.
“There’s a but, isn’t there?” she said into the dark room.
“Yes. He suffered a collapsed lung, which has been dealt with temporarily, but it means he will need to be taken straight to the hospital rather than here. I can take you as soon as I receive the call to say he has arrived.”
Ella’s mind raced. A collapsed lung. What else? She wanted to ask about the woman, his contact, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. He was alive.
“Does he know about Josephine? Did anyone tell him?”
“No. I figured it would be best to wait. He’s taken quite a beating, Ella.”
She let out a long breath and nodded silently into the phone. “I’ll be ready.”
After replacing her cell phone on the bedside table, she lay there, feeling cold and alone in the large bedroom filled with dark shadows. The turbulent waves crashed on the rugged rocks below. She flipped the cream duvet cover back and slipped out of bed. Reaching the long-arched window that overlooked the ever-flowing midnight-blue sea, she stared at the inky-black sky guarding the waxing crescent moon that hung there. She inhaled the power of Luna, knowing she needed its strength to fortify her for the coming hours and days. A dread filled her as the need for Marcus itched under her skin with a fury. Ella knew her moods well and last week, they shifted.
Since losing the baby, her shape changed too. Her breasts, once enlarged from pregnancy, became engorged with milk weeks ago, confirming the life that had been growing inside her. As the milk seeped out from her nipples, instead of feeding her baby, it cemented her loss. Now, her breasts were limp and normal. Her stomach lay flat and stiff as a board, but the tingles inside her body rose at the merest whisper of his name. Hearing it was like an addict receiving a hit. She needed more. She scratched her wrist and walked from the window, letting the moon light her way toward the shower. Ella hated this desire that made her a drooling idiot. The timing was the worst. After a quick wash and a fresh outfit, she met with Steel in the hallway. The drive to the hospital was in silence. Once he parked, she jumped out of the car, but he stood in front and stopped her.
“Ella, slow down. I cannot read your mind but I know you have a million questions. Be patient.”
She eyeballed Steel’s wide hazel eyes with hues of green. They were striking. Her gaze drifted to his hand and taking a deep breath, she forced her rapid heartbeat to slow down. He was right; she needed to gain some control and rushing in wouldn’t help anyone. She pressed her hand on her chest to take a few minutes to calm herself.
“There’s a few things I didn’t explain properly back at the house…” Steel continued as they entered the busy hospital and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the second floor and let a group of doctors and nurses enter, preventing any further conversation. The bell pinged and they made their way out to stand in the hallway at reception.
Steel started to talk and Ella listened but kept her eyes focused on the surroundings, trying to gauge where Marcus would be. The doors to the ward were pulled wide open and a gurney carrying a sedated and bandaged Marcus rushed inside. Next to him walked a beautiful lady with hair the same shade as his, with a baby in her arms. She wore a navy T-shirt to cover her modesty, identical to the one she had that belonged to Marcus. Ella’s heart boomed louder in her ears, drowning out Steel’s voice. She watched as the woman glanced over at Marcus and captured his hand in hers. A wave of bile touched the back of Ella’s mouth.
“Shit.” The room tilted. She couldn’t do this.
Steel grabbed her hand and squeezed it, redirecting her attention to meet his eyes.
“Remember what I said—don’t presume anything. Leave the past where it belongs, Ella.”
She squeezed his hand back and they moved closer to the gurney.
“It doesn’t look like the past to me.” She let go of his hand.
She stepped closer but the medics and the woman with Marcus brushed her aside. They continued and rolled him into the waiting private room. A nurse pulled the glamourous but disheveled woman glued to Marcus away and removed the baby from her arms. Ella stared, unable to take her eyes away from the scene, as if she were a spectator and what was going on had nothing to do with her at all. The woman glanced back and met her curious gaze. No smiles were exchanged and an overwhelming sense of this woman being her enemy swamped her.
“Ella, come on. Let’s go and see how our boy is doing. The doctor can give us a breakdown.”
Refocusing her thoughts on Marcus, she nodded, and marched toward the room they had wheeled her husband into. Briefly, she glanced sideways and watched as a nurse directed the woman to another room. For the first time since she set eyes on her, Ella released the breath she had been holding.
A doctor stood at the head of the bed, connecting electrodes and leads to Marcus’s purple and black chest. A white gauze bandage covered his ribs, and there was one on his right thigh too. The doctor spoke quietly to the nurse, who set up an intravenous syringe pump on a stand, along with fluids. As she studied Marcus, she realized, as his eyelids fluttered, he wasn’t fully awake. She couldn’t hold back anymore and rushed to his side; she grabbed his limp hand and squeezed it as tears bubbled to the surface in her eyes.
“Marcus.” She pressed hard into his palm, willing him to hear her voice. She could help him recover and tend to his wounds.
“Are you his wife?” The doctor observed her face and she watched as he looked over her shoulder at something she couldn’t see.
“No,” a female voice said behind her.
Ella opened her mouth to protest but a weak answer came forth. “Yes, I’m his wife.” Ella wiped tears from her cheeks.
“This is Mrs. Drayton, Doctor. I can confirm this. I’m Ben Steel. I am the man who arranged for the helicopter to land. Would you mind if we spoke outside?”
Ella reached her hand out and grabbed Steel’s shirt, not wanting to be left alone with the strange woman who now circled the bed and appeared to have some claim on Marcus. The woman stared at her.
“Marcus would want me to stay. I know he would. He suffered this for me. I’m not leaving,” she said.
Ella studied the woman she knew to be Ava Marie Carlos. The woman loved Marcus and had her sights set on him for sure. Ella’s cheeks heated and Steel tapped her hand, drawing her attention away from the woman laying claim to her husband.
“I won’t be long.” He flicked his gaze at the doctor.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry. Mr. Drayton is only allowed immediate family until he is stabilized. After that, it is up to his wife.”
Ella swallowed past the invisible lump in her throat and stared at Marcus’s hand. She rubbed his third finger where the platinum wedding band should be, only to find it missing. Why? Why would he remove it? Lifting her head, she stared at the woman opposite her, shocked at the situation and her intense dislike for her.
“Please leave,” she said in a calm voice she didn’t recognize.
It took a great deal of will not to shout. The truth was she didn’t know what this woman was to Marcus. She didn’t know their story or history, but she was his wife, for now. Damn him.
Heavy booted thuds behind her announced someone else had arrived.
“Sorry, I’m late, sir. I escorted the women we brought back to be checked over and lost sight of Drayton. How’s he doing?”
A quick conversation ensued, which ended with Steel stepping out of the room and the door closing behind him. Ella stared at the man who still had camo paint on the creases of his ears. They hadn’t spoken much since the abduction, and yet it no longer seemed to matter. She was happy to see him unharmed.
Jake looked at her and walked straight to her side, touching her shoulder, but looked over at the beauty standing across from her and holding her husband’s hand. “Mrs. Carlos, I will escort you to the compound. I think it’s the best place for you and it’s what Drayton would want.”
Hearing the formal address, the woman jerked her head up and rich almond eyes studied her. Ella examined the woman back, absorbing her creamy skin and curvaceous body. Knowing Marcus as well as she did, there was no doubt that at some point these two had been together in every sense of the word and it chilled her to the bone to think she could lose him. Hadn’t she been thinking that would be for the best? That Marcus deserved happiness with someone normal?
Jake whispered in her ear. “Hang in there, princess. Anything I can get you?”
She smiled at his endearment. He had never used a nickname for her before. She removed her hand from Marcus’s and stroked the frog skeleton tattoo on his bicep, noting the dirt and grime. “Can you bring me in his wash bag and some fresh clothes?”
“Sure, but I meant you, Ella.”
Jake touched her hand and she sensed his sorrow for her.
“I’m fine, Jake, really. Do you know about Josephine?”
“Marcus’s mother?”
Ella nodded and sniffed. “She passed away and I’m not sure how he will take it. Should I wait or tell him as soon as he wakes?” she said quietly.
Jake swiped his eyes to the left quickly and then back at her before he answered. “You’ll know when the time is right.”
Steel walked back inside and closed the door behind him.
Jake stepped away from Ella. “I’m going to take Mrs. Carlos back for a debriefing, and I’ll return later with the things you need, Ella. If you can think of anything—say, chocolate—let me know.” He leaned over her and kissed her cheek.
She clutched his hand and smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“Ella, if you want me to stay I will, but the doc said Marcus is stable. They replaced the chest tube that he had in for the pneumothorax, and he will have an x-ray later to see how it’s doing. He’s broken some ribs but they are treating that with pain meds. They cleaned his leg and gave him intravenous doses of antibiotics. Overall, he looks worse than he is. He’s staying put for a few days to ensure he doesn’t get any complications from his injuries but he should be fine. He just needs rest and time to heal.”
Ella wondered why she felt adrift and unable to take charge. It wasn’t like her at all to sit and wait to be told something. Why didn’t she ask the doctor? The news was better than she had feared and that was all that mattered.
“Thank you for talking to the doctor. I could have done that; there was no need.”
“You’re one of us, Ella. I served in the military a long time. Wives have more courage than any one of us, but at times like this, being able to ask the right questions is vital. Excuse me for stepping in, but this is an easy task for me. My men are used to their injuries—most will self-diagnose. They are used to getting injured—most spouses aren’t. It’s a shock and you never get used to it.”
She pressed her hand over her mouth. It was true; seeing Marcus pale, bloodied, and covered in bruises across his chest with dressings and a tube draining into a plastic stand made her freeze—never mind the fact this strange woman was here laying claim to him. Her mind went into panic mode. All she latched onto was the fact Marcus was stable. She lifted her hand and laced it over his to touch his warm, rough skin, and she prickled with heat.
“Thank you, but you go. I know you have a lot to attend to. I will be fine here.”
Ava Carlos glared at Ella and she studied her hand over Marcus’s. “What will happen to the baby?” Ava said.
Ella was confused. She thought the baby Ava held earlier was hers. Jake relayed to Steel what had happened at the villa and Ella listened as her heart beat frantically.
“I guess child services will collect the orphan and take him into care.”
Acting on impulse and overwhelming need, Ella shouted, “No! Finding someone to take the baby this quickly will not be easy.”
“They have emergency twenty-four hour services for these situations, Ella,” Steel interjected.
“Did you explain the situation to the nurse?” Ella stared over at Ava.
The svelte woman walked around the bed, her eyes flicking over Ella’s face. “No, I think the nurse assumed he was mine. She asked for my details and I didn’t want to give my real name, so I said Mrs. Drayton.” She smiled.
Ella stared into Ava’s beautiful dark eyes and the room swirled for a second. It seemed like fate had brought this baby to her for a reason. She studied the men in the room, looking from Steel to Jake, who covered his mouth with his hand as if he knew what was coming.
“Let me take the baby. I could look after him, just for a while, until they are able to find him a family.”
Steel blew out a deep breath and stared at the ceiling as if an answer escaped him. Jake looked equally unable to respond.
“No one will know.”
Ava spoke those words.
Steel and Jake snapped their heads to look at the woman who seemed to occupy too much space in the room and was too smug for her own good. Ella didn’t trust her one bit, but as the two men stared at each other—Steel pulled his moustache and Jake scratched his head—she knew for once they didn’t have control. A sudden sensation of overwhelming tears grew inside her. A baby’s sharp cry echoed from the distance, calling to her, and she dissolved into a flood of unexpected tears. What was happening to her?
She couldn’t go through with it. What was she thinking?
Strong arms engulfed her as she pressed her face into the broad and solid chest of the man who held her. She knew it was Steel without seeing his face. She knew the scent of the ocean belonged to him and him alone. A door opened, footsteps trotted away and the door closed. Resting her head against him, it seemed natural to let this man hold and comfort her. She felt safe. It wasn’t the first time she had received solace from him.
“You’ve been through a terrifying ordeal. Losing a baby is a tragedy. I know what that is like, believe me. It’s time to consider seeing the doctor on the compound. She handles all our team. Marcus may have mentioned her, Dr. Elizabeth Fielding. She works with those who suffer with post-traumatic stress disorder. She sees them regularly and the treatment she provides is invaluable.”
Maybe he was right, but how could she begin to explain what was circulating inside her head after talking to Josephine’s ghost—who insisted her baby lived?