Rescuing Isabelle, page 25
Like everything, Guardian HRS doesn’t go small with the company jet. The entire inside was scrapped and remade. All seats are first class, two to a side. There’s a conference room in the back. Two full sized lavatories with showers. Those seats recline all the way flat with privacy alcoves for those wanting to sleep.
Sam and CJ take the woman in red from Rafe and escort her to the conference room sectioned off near the tail of the plane. I show Izzy to her seat and release her hand with reluctance. Pulling off the helmet, I run my fingers through sweat-soaked hair.
“I’ll be back in a minute, luv. I’ve got to store my gear.” Resisting the urge to kiss her again, I force myself to leave her and head to the very rear of the plane where our gear lockers sit.
“Where are the others?” Brady’s in front of me. His weapon leans against the wall while he rips off his tactical vest. Like me, he’s covered in sweat.
The rest of us follow suit, storing all our gear except for our weapons. Those stay out until the rest of the crew is onboard.
“Inbound. Had to stop at the original exfil to pick up the Rufuses. They’re five minutes out.”
Damn, that’s efficient.
“Booker…” Brady clamps his hand on my shoulder. “Go ahead and stow your gear. We’ve got this.” I step to the side as the guys head to the front of the plane.
If there’s any trouble, they’ll provide support on the ground. I give one sniff of my pits and wrinkle my nose. Not the freshest smelling man in the jungle, I reek.
Knowing I have a few minutes, I grab my dopp kit, a fresh change of clothes, and head to the restroom in the aft end of the plane. Inside, I kick off my boots and strip all the way down, then I take the modern magic that is a pack of baby wipes and wipe away the stench and grime from my body. I’d use the shower, but it’s only operational in the air.
I dress in a fresh pair of black utility trousers and put on a simple black tee-shirt.
By the time I’m done, there’s commotion at the front of the plane as the tech team loads up and settles in their seats. I glimpse Mitzy all the way from the back, despite her small stature, and exchange a look.
The brightness of her smile brings an answering one to mine. She sticks up her thumb, then rotates it from thumbs up, to neutral, then thumbs down. I know exactly what she’s asking and as my grin grows wider, I give her two beaming thumbs up.
Forest Summers climbs on board. He ducks his head, slanting it to the side, then slides into his seat with a sigh. He looks tired and a bit out of it.
I wait while everyone sorts themselves out. The aisle will clear soon. A peek out the window shows the three robots walking themselves up the ramp to the cargo hold and I shake my head wondering how their part of the mission went.
Last on board are the men of Bravo team. Brady holds up at the front when he sees me lingering toward the back of the plane. He gestures for me to go ahead and I quickly slip down the aisle, feeling light-hearted and as goofy as a fool in love.
Izzy looks up and a soft laugh spills from her luscious lips.
“I was wondering what took so long. Did you shower for me?”
“Not exactly a shower.” Although, I did rinse my hair. It hangs in wet strings. And I brushed my teeth.
“For me?”
“Definitely for you.” I slide into my seat and take her hand in mine. Once again, I lift the back of her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Now, about that kiss…”
Her eyes twinkle and that beautiful blush returns.
Thirty-Two
Izzy
“So, who is the chick in the red dress?” Booker keeps my hand, capturing it for the flight back to California. “And what the hell was she thinking? Was she in danger?”
“That bitch is Maximus Angelo’s daughter.”
“I take it the two of you didn’t hit it off?”
“That woman hated me on sight.” I lower my voice to a whisper, not wanting everyone privy to my conversation. “She thought I was Maximus’ new lover. I don’t think she knows what I truly was.”
“And what was that?” Booker’s entire demeanor changes in an instant.
“Exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Did he…”
“He didn’t get a chance. Your heroic rescue came right on time.”
I leave out what would’ve happened later tonight. No need to speak such vileness.
“Fuuuck.” Booker releases my hand to pull me tight to his side. “I’ve been out of my mind with worry from the moment we found out about the damn diamonds. I was always one step behind. Kept losing you.”
“You were there when it mattered most.” I reach up and cup his face, taking time to really get a good look at him. “My hero.”
To my delight, he blushes at that comment. Serves him right.
The man makes me blush with nothing but a look. But there’s a reason for that. Booker oozes masculinity. It’s in the way he holds himself, the way he moves his body, it’s in the filthy thoughts filling his head. He’s sex on a stick, and for the first time, he’s all mine.
I try to imagine him at eighteen when he was a viril male who danced for money and fulfilled the lusty fantasies of thousands of women during his time as a male dancer in Vegas.
A smile tilts the corner of my mouth thinking about what he must have been like back then. I imagine a voracious appetite for all things female. With his looks, and the way he moves, I bet women fell all overthemselves for the tiniest piece of him.
I probably wouldn’t have liked him back then. I despise players, men who toy with women’s hearts. This version of Booker, a decade older, a real man who rocks confidence like there’s no tomorrow; add in the whole protective male thing, and my heart speeds along like a runaway freight train.
There’s no stopping what comes next.
Which brings another flush to my cheeks. He knows I wear nothing beneath this dress. I’ll give him this; he was a consummate professional fitting that harness to me. The funniest thing is I don’t know which of us jumped the most. Me, when he touched my pussy? Or him when he realized I wasn’t wearing anything beneath the dress?
I’d love to know what went through his head.
“Are you growling?” I lean back and check if what I’m hearing is really there.
The flash grenade did a number on my hearing, but it’s slowly coming back. I would bet a million bucks Booker just growled like an alpha male would when his woman was threatened.
“I have a feeling the Minister of the Interior has a bevy of unwilling women waiting on him.” His fingers did into the armrest. “I wish we’d known.”
“Known what?”
“That he had slaves.” Booker’s fist pounds on the expensive leather of the seat. “We could’ve saved them.”
I remember Rosalee and how beaten down she looked. Horrific guilt rushes through me. I never once thought about her during the whole escape.
“I’m a horrible person.” I lean forward and cup my face as shame runs through me.
“No you’re not.”
“You don’t understand. There was this woman…Rosalee.” My voice catches on the lump in my throat.
“Rosalee?”
“She’s the only other female I saw.” I proceed to tell Booker everything. “But the way she hunched in front of Matias…It didn’t even occur to me to find her.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Beat yourself up over something you had no control over. Our mission was a lightning blitz followed by a rapid extraction. We weren’t prepared to search for other captives, but I can promise this…” He takes both my hands in his. “We’ll come back.”
“Do you think so?” It would help me breathe a little easier. “I can’t believe I left her behind.”
I’m a horrible human being. I didn’t even think about her until now.
“Yes luv, we will.” He speaks with absolute conviction.
“There’s something else. Rosalee isn’t the only woman I forgot about. Maximus said things to me.”
“What things?” Booker’s entire body tenses. “What did the fucker say?”
“If I didn’t have sex with him, he would send pieces of my mother—“
“Pieces?” Booker’s voice rises and I curl in on myself, thinking I’ve done something wrong.
“Pieces of her toes, her fingers…” I can’t finish the rest.
Booker growls low, in the back of his throat. For the first time ever, that growly protectiveness doesn’t irritate me. It feels different.
Welcomed.
Booker twists in his seat and calls down the aisle. “CJ, Sam…” He waves for the men to join us.
They make their way from the back of the plane to to us.
“What’s up?” CJ taps me on the shoulder. “Nice to have you home, Izzy.”
“Thanks. Glad to be home.”
And this is my home. Guardian HRS is my home.
“We need a protective detail on Izzy’s family asap.” Booker barks out orders. “Angelo threatened her mother if Izzy didn’t…” He clears his throat. “If she didn’t… serve him.”
Serve?
That’s one way to say it.
No reason for Booker to elaborate further. They get it. I wait for questions, but CJ and Sam ask none. The only sign of their concern is a tightening of their jaws and the grinding of their molars.
“Izzy, don’t worry about your family. We’ll take care of them.” CJ rubs at the back of his neck. His eyes pinch and he blows out a breath. “Is there any reason to think more is going on?”
“What do you mean by more?” I’m not dense. I know what he’s asking. I’m just not ready to face what almost happened.
You can’t run from your fears. My father’s words come back at me.
Once he saw my phobias multiplying, he tried to nip my anxiety in the bud. It never worked, but in many ways, I wish I’d listened to him. There was wisdom in the message he tried to deliver.
Sucking in a breath, I decide to face this fear head on.
“I don’t know what was going on, except he didn’t seem all that interested in the diamonds.” I pull out the mangled rabbit’s foot and dangle it in the air. “He seemed much more interested in me.”
Every word Maximus said runs through my head. I wish I could remember all of it. No doubt there’s something important, but I’m at a loss as to what that might be.
“You?” Booker’s tone gets rumbly and deep. That growling protectiveness is back.
“More like he was far more interested in who rescued me from the jungle than losing the diamonds. He said the man the you killed was his cousin, but he didn’t seem upset by it. Carmen, however was furious.”
“Carmen?” Sam tugs on his jaw.
“The woman in the red dress.” I point down toward the back of the plane.
“Any idea why she would do what she did?” Sam’s penetrating gaze looks toward the back of the plane.
We’re in a modified jumbojet that’s nothing like any of the planes I’ve ever flown in. Every seat is first class accommodations. There’s a whole room located in the back of the plane.
The Guardians escorted Carmen into that room. One of them stands outside the door, and I think one, or two, are inside with her. I only got a peek inside the bathroom. It’s not an airplane lavatory. It’s much larger.
“No idea.” I shrug. “But she was upset about Miguel.”
“Miguel?”
“Her cousin. The leader of the Coralos cartel. He seemed to be embroiled in some disagreement with her father. She accused her father of killing him.”
“Excuse me?” CJ’s brows pinch. “Who accused who?”
Realizing the pronouns could be confusing, I clarify what I said.
“Carmen thought her father killed her cousin, Miguel. He’s the leader of the cartel that kidnapped my team. Once she saw you were there to rescue me, she may have decided to…” The right word escapes me. “Um, go with you?” My forehead wrinkles as I try to figure out what I want to say. “The woman is something else and her temper is… Well, it’s something. She went off on her father right in front of me.”
My words draw a crowd. When I look up, Brady is there. Along with him, Zeb and Hayes gather around. Alec is at the back of the plane, standing guard outside the conference room. I don’t see Rafe, but remember him coming on board. He must be in the room with Carmen.
“She thought her father killed Miguel Coralos?” Joining the crowd, Mitzy pushes her way in.
“Seemed like it.” I can only shrug. “I was really scared and there was a lot going on.”
“Why would she think that? Why argue with her father in front of you?”
“No idea.”
“Then she highjacks a ride with the Guardians?” Mitzy taps her lips. “It doesn’t track.”
“Her father denied killing her cousin and I may have…” I hate this part. They’re all so much more in control of themselves, unlike me. I started blabbing the moment I arrived at Maximus’ home.
“Maximus was interested in who rescued us. Maybe she believed he wasn’t involved and hitched a ride to find out for herself.” My neck hurts from looking up at everyone.
“That’s fuckin’ ballsy.” CJ grips the headrest of the seat in front of us. “She could’ve died pulling that stunt.”
“You said she argued.” Sam joins Mitzy with the chin tapping thing. “About her cousin? The Guardians?” He pauses. “Did they mention us by name?”
“No.” At least I kept that bit to myself. “It was all really weird. She went balistic. Switched the subject to an arranged marriage…”
“Huh?” Mitzy cocks her head to the side.
“Izzy, we need to properly debrief this. There’s too much to process.” Sam glances down the aisle to where Alec stands guard. “Unfortunately, the conference room is occupied.”
“What are you going to do with Carmen?” I clutch Booker’s hand, finding his presence reassuring as the Guardians put me to question.
“First, we determine if she’s a threat.” CJ doesn’t hesitate. “Then we ask questions of our own.”
Thirty-Three
Booker
The flight home raises more questions than answers, but I’ll save my questions for later. Right now, I’ve got a woman to hold.
The seats in the jet are first class, and since we fly at a moment’s notice anywhere around the world, they’re the fancy ones that lay all the way down.
The last three days have taken their toll on my girl. Adrenaline’s run rampant throughout her system; her fight or flight instinct has been on overdrive. Unable to flee, she’s been stuck in fight mode with no outlet for all the excess energy.
She’s headed for two major crashes.
The first, will be emotional.
Now that she’s safe, all those emotions she buried to stay alive will rise to the surface and overwhelm her. I wait for that tsunami to try and drown her, but I’ll be there to buoy her up.
It’ll be hard. There’s no privacy in the plane, but I’ll shield her the best way I know how.
After that will come the physical crash.
When the last of that adrenaline flowing through her fades, she’ll be left with nothing. The drop will hurt, but I’ll be right by her side, lending what strength I can. At the very least, I’ll watch over her as she sleeps.
Before that, however, are debriefs, both for me, and for her. I only hope CJ will allow those to happen together.
“I can’t wait to get home.” Izzy slouches in her seat.
Already, fatigue pulls at her. It’s evident in the puffiness of her eyes, the yawns that barely stop before the next one begins, and it’s in her complexion which is three shades paler than her normal glow.
My woman looks like she’s been run over by a freight train and lived to tell about it. Not that I would ever say that out loud.
I’m not a fucking idiot.
But she looks rough.
“Home?” I’m almost too afraid to ask.
Is that in Leighton, Texas with her family, or with me in California?
“Yeah. And I want to see Angie. I bet she’s freaking the eff-out.”
“Everyone was freaking out when you were kidnapped.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” She shifts, turning toward me. “But not you.”
“You don’t think I was worried?”
“Worried maybe, but not freaking out.” She places her hand on my arm. “You came after me.”
“Sure as shit, I did.”
It’s a simple touch, but damn if it doesn’t make my heart soar. I love these tender touches much better than the verbal fights we used to engage in.
I place my hand over hers, and take a moment to soak in this new normal.
It feels… good.
Better than good.
It feels right as rain.
“You knew exactly what to do.” She leans back again with a sigh.
Her faith in me rocks my confidence.
“Not sure if I deserve that.” There’s nothing but to admit the truth. “I didn’t know if I’d find you.”
“I wasn’t—“
“Wasn’t what?”
“Worried that you wouldn’t find me.” She looks up through the fringe of her lashes, fluttering them in a way that makes my stomach feel funny. “I knew you would.”
“You put a lot of faith in me.”
“And look what happened.” She reaches up to cup the side of my face. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “You found me, just like I knew you would.”
Telling her how much luck was involved in finding her doesn’t sound wise. I let her believe what she wants. I know how close we came to losing her forever.
“And I’m sorry.” She puffs out her cheeks. “It was all my fault.”
“Your fault?” I lean back, surprised by the comment.
“Yeah, if I’d only accepted the tracker instead of getting a bug up my butt about unnecessary surveillance, none of this would’ve been necessary.” She closes the gap between us. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they fire me when we get back for how much time and money I’ve cost Guardian HRS. Do you think I’m going to get sacked?”
