Rogue Protector, page 3
“Then why go dark?” he asks.
The lump in my throat shouldn’t be so hard to swallow. Trev’s my brother in every way that counts. And was long before he and Dani found one another again. Fell in love. I have to tell him. If only because I can hear the pain in his words. He’s blaming himself for everything broken in me, and none of it is his fault.
“Because something in me died when Gil...fuck.” Trev’s the one who had to put a bullet in my adopted brother’s brain, and here I am whining about his death. I search for something to say that won’t drive more of a wedge between the two of us, but I can’t find a single damn thing that isn’t pure and utter bullshit. “Because I have a lot to figure out. Can we just leave it at that?”
“Yeah, man. Sure. Just...call Dani. You have four hours.“ Trevor hangs up without saying goodbye, and I stare at the phone for a full five minutes before I can even think about moving again.
We may be family, but our friendship? Pretty sure I just tossed that out like day old trash. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to close the rift between us again.
Mikayla
The heavy mist cools my cheeks as I follow Isaiah up the steep, narrow trail. We’ve been in Chiapas for two weeks now, and it’s rained every single day. At least halfway up the mountain where the grow sites are.
We were prepared for the rain, at least. The wind, not so much. It whips my poncho around my knees, and I’ve already lost two hats.
The two kilometer trek through steep, uneven terrain takes us over an hour to navigate. Our mobile lab unit sits at the base of the mountain, and every day, two of us make the climb to one of the five designated grow sites. They each sit in a little mini-caldera, scattered around the mountain like massive salad bowls, full to the brim with lush trees, moss, and of course, dozens of Blushing Note orchids. The plants cling to the massive trunks, wrap their roots around fallen branches, and I can only imagine what it looks like when they flower. If we’d been able to come two months later, we could have seen them in bloom, but by then, the weather would make hiking up here impossible.
Up ahead, Isaiah braces his hand on the side of the crevasse that leads to Site One. Something shifted in the weather last night, and today…the air is thick and oppressive, despite the high winds, and as I adjust my backpack, my chest suddenly feels like someone kicked me and then dropped a twenty-pound weight directly onto my lungs.
“Isaiah,” I wheeze, but he can’t hear me. It takes me precious seconds to shrug out of my backpack and sink to my knees in the mud. The zipper doesn’t want to cooperate, and my heart pounds faster and harder as I try desperately to find my inhaler.
One. Two. Three. Four.
I try to slow my breathing, but this attack came on so fast and hit me hard enough that my vision has already started to tunnel. Breathing through one of those little coffee straws the hotel uses would be easier than this.
There it is. My fingers brush the hard plastic, but they’re trembling so badly I drop the precious medicine twice before I get a good grip on it. Shaking the small cylinder takes everything I have, but I have to mix the Albuterol with the propellant or it won’t do me any good.
Breathe out. All the way. Force it. Come on. You can do this.
My chest is so tight, and I can’t hear the wind anymore. The burst of medicine doesn’t feel like it makes a bit of difference, but I know it’s helping. Or will, once I get my second dose in. But waiting even thirty seconds feels nearly impossible since each one stretches out before me like it’s a year long.
Mud soaks through my khaki pants now, and I rest my head on my backpack as I bring my inhaler to my lips a second time.
Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
“Dr. Mik!” Isaiah’s voice reaches my ears through a long tunnel, and then he’s at my side, his hand on my shoulder. “Breathe. Stay calm. I’m here.”
He knows what to do. All three of my grad students know. Unless it looks like I can’t lift my inhaler at all, they’re to just monitor my breathing and make sure I don’t pass out.
After the world’s longest minutes ever, the weight sitting on my chest lessens, and I lift my head to meet Isaiah’s concerned gaze.
I nod, hoping he’ll understand I’m okay. Or at least heading in that direction. Talking is still kind of risky, and there’s no way I can continue the hike. My entire body feels like it’s shaking, even though I know I’m not.
Isaiah pulls out the two-way radio and flips it on. “Li, can you suit up for measurements?” he asks. There’s no cell signal up in the mountains, but the radios work until we go through the crevasse. “Dr. Mik had an attack. Tell Corey to come too. He can get her back to the hotel while we take today’s readings.” He rattles off our coordinates, then helps me to my feet and over to a flat rock just off the trail. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No.” My voice is hoarse, but audible, and my cheeks catch fire as I realize just how much mud seeped into my pants. “Sorry. Don’t know why today—“
“We got this, Dr. Mik. It’ll all be fine.” Isaiah is always optimistic. There’s something about being twenty-six that makes guys feel like they’re on top of the world. Indestructible. He’s not even wearing a light jacket under his poncho. Just a base layer over hiking pants. “How’s your heart rate?”
Checking my watch, I take a slow, relatively deep breath and wait for the number to flash on screen. “Ninety-three. Passable after an attack. I’ll be fine. I can set up the slides while you and Li download the day’s readings and check on the hybrids we planted last week.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Corey’s driving you back to the hotel.”
“I don’t need—”
“Yes. You do. Taking one afternoon off won’t put us behind. Once Corey drops you off, he’ll come back here and we’ll stay until we get everything done. You’re the boss, Dr. Mik, but we can handle this. I promise.”
All three students are geniuses. Isaiah and Li have the highest grades in their respective programs, and while Corey’s GPA isn’t quite as impressive, he’s driven in a way I’ve rarely seen.
I’ll take the afternoon. Rest. Maybe try to read a book if I can focus on the words. And once my body calms down, run some of the numbers from the past few days.
“Fine,” I mutter, dropping my head into my hands.
Ten minutes later, Isaiah pushes to his feet and peers down the side of the mountain. “There they are.”
Li and Corey scramble up the last few meters, both breathing heavily, and Li hands me a travel mug of coffee. Instant, but at least it’s caffeine. And hot.
“We’ll handle everything,” she says with a reassuring smile.
I can only nod, and Corey picks his way over a patch of loose rocks in the center of the trail before offering a hand to help me to my feet.
I groan, but they’re so dedicated, it’s hard to be angry with them. Still, I can’t let them take on all of my work. “When we get back to the lab, transfer this morning’s readings to a USB drive so I work after I take a nap.”
“You don’t have to do everything, you know. That’s why you brought us with you.” Jake holds a branch out of the way so I don’t have to duck under it, and I nod my thanks.
He’s right. And I should have known better than to push myself today. My breathing was slightly strained when I woke up this morning. The particular combination of temperature and humidity we’re currently experiencing in Chiapas is risky for me, but I hate not being able to be out in the field myself. And my students know it.
The trip down the mountain takes forever—both because the mist has turned to rain and because I don’t have the energy to keep up any sort of decent pace. Corey takes my arm from time to time to help me over a fallen branch or slippery patch of mud, and I can tell there’s something on his mind.
“You okay?” I ask when we reach the trailer that’s served as our temporary base camp for the past ten days.
Corey shrugs as he grabs the keys for the Land Rover. “Sure.”
“That’s not an answer.” My backpack feels like it weighs fifty pounds, and before I climb into the vehicle, I take my poncho and spread it out over the seat so all the mud caking my pants and plastering them to my skin doesn’t destroy the rental car.
Ick. The feel of sludge seeping deeper into my butt crack makes me shudder, and I can’t wait to get back to the hotel so I can shower. And then try to sleep off these jitters.
We don’t speak again until we turn onto the main road fifteen minutes later. “How are things at home?” I venture when the silence gets to be too much.
He clutches the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turn white. “Quiet.”
Underneath the pounding headache and nerves, warning bells go off. Things with Corey’s father are never quiet. “You know I understand, right?”
“No, you don’t,” he says sharply. “Not really.” The venom in his voice shocks me, and I turn to stare out the window, the lush green landscape practically untouched save for the two lane paved road and the occasional small house or old barn. So much of Chiapas is undeveloped, though it boasts some of the most interesting ruins and caves in this region of Mexico.
Eventually, he sighs. “That was out of line.”
“A little. But you’re not wrong. I’ve never been afraid of my parents. My cousin has, and when she came to live with us, she told me all about the hell she went through. But I never lived it.”
“Why did you give me this internship?” Corey asks with a quick glance across the Land Rover. “Li and Isaiah I get. But me? My grades were barely above the minimum required.”
“Because GPA isn’t always the best indicator of how smart or motivated a person is.” The set of jaw tells me he’s not buying it, so I let out a sigh. “Your essay. That’s why. Because I knew you’d seize this opportunity and make the most of it. It’s great to be the best and the brightest. But it’s just as important to be the most driven and dedicated. And maybe…I saw a chance to help you like my parents helped my cousin.”
“I’m just going to let you down,” he says quietly.
“Why would you say that?” You’re the one who cross-bred our most successful hybrid.” The largest orchid in the Smithsonian greenhouse is growing like no other, and Corey nicknamed it “Queenie.”
“That plant… It was a mistake. It was all a mistake.”
“Corey? I don’t understand.” I wish I knew what to say to him. Five days before we left, he had another family emergency, and when he came back, he was different. Sadder. Less…himself.
He fixes his eyes on the road and doesn’t say another word until he pulls up in front of the hotel. “Rest up, Dr. Mik. We got this.”
Chapter Five
Austin
Back in my room at the Hotel Centro in San Cristóbal de Las Casas, I sink down onto the double bed and pull out my phone. I made a promise, and no matter how much it hurts, I’m going to keep it.
“Hey, squirt,” I say when Dani answers the call.
“Where are you?” The hurt in her voice sends a knife twisting through my heart, and I flop back and stare up at the ceiling. “Are you coming back before…Gil’s birthday?”
“No.” I should soften the blow, say something reassuring, explain. But I don’t have the words.
“Austin, please. I’ve never asked before, but this year…after everything we went through in Venezuela, it’s…important to me.”
“I can’t, Dani. I need to be alone for a while. Figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do with my life. If I came back…I’d just make things worse.”
She stifles a sob. “Worse than what? Than learning just how broken Gil was before he died? Than seeing Mom and Dad blame themselves for not loving him enough? I had one brother disappear on me, Austin. Are you trying to make it two? Because it sure seems that way.”
“Way to make a guy feel like the biggest asshole in the world,” I mutter. “You and Trev went through hell, Dani. You don’t need me around to remind you of…all of it. Think about how hard it would be for Trev to see me broken up about Gil’s death. I wasn’t the one who fired the shot. I wasn’t the one who trained with him. Who fought with him. Hell, I wasn’t even his target five years ago. No. I was his pawn to get to Trevor.” I’m practically yelling now, and someone in the next room pounds on the wall. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to come up with something…anything that will make her understand why I have to stay so far away. At least for right now.
“Trevor doesn’t blame you. Not one bit. He never has. But…hang on.” A door shuts, and Dani’s voice takes on a hushed tone. “We’re okay. Better than okay. Most of the time. But you know his history. Some days, he still feels alone. Really alone. Despite Ryker, Rip, and the rest of the folks out in Seattle at Hidden Agenda, his family at Second Sight. And me. Those days…I think they’d be easier on him if the two of you sat down and just…talked. Honestly. About Gil, about Venezuela, about everything.”
Fuck. Guilt socks me in the balls, and I roll onto my side, not sure I can even take a deep breath for several seconds.
“Austin?”
“I…I have to go.” At her exasperated groan, I add, “I can’t come back yet, squirt. I’m sorry. But I’ll call you in a few days. Trev too. I’ll be…better.”
“Please try, Austin. I love you.”
“Love you too.” Tossing the phone on the nightstand, I punch the pillow a few times, sending feathers floating through the air. I can’t keep hurting the people I care about, but that’s about all I know how to do these days.
Something has to change. If only I could figure out what.
The brightly painted hotel restaurant is quiet, which suits my mood after talking to Dani. I order a plate of tacos, a beer, and a shot of tequila. I’ll need at least three shots before I’m done tonight. If not more. Anything to stop the constant refrain going through my head.
You failed. Gil. Dani. Trevor. Everyone.
Every single hike, all the nights alone, each solitary meal…they should have helped me figure out who I want to be by now. Who I am. Instead, I’ve spent almost every minute rehashing my mistakes. All the signs of Gil’s betrayal I missed. The secrets he kept from me. From Dani. From Mom and Dad.
The lies.
I knew every time he deflected. Every time he kept something from us. Every time he bent—or fractured—the truth to suit his needs. Hell, I was trained to read people. Micro expressions, body language, tone of voice. But I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. Gil was CIA. It was his job to lie. To keep us in the dark. To protect us. At least that’s what I told myself. Wrote off his behavior as being “on mission.”
Why didn’t I push harder?
Could I have saved him? Or saved Trev and Dani from the hell they both went through?
“Excuse me?” The sultry voice holds an edge of impatience, and I shake off the thoughts pinging around in my head and turn as she continues, “Lost in your own world, huh?”
The woman with her hand on the stool next to mine carries her exhaustion in the bags under her brown eyes, and her wariness in the stiffness of her shoulders.
“Sorry. Been a day,” I reply. “Can I help you…?”
“Just wanted to know if this stool was taken,” she says and gestures to the main seating area of the restaurant. In the twenty minutes I spent nursing my beer, reliving memories of Gil and all my other failures, apparently the rest of the hotel decided it was time to grab a drink.
“Nope. All yours.”
“Thanks.” She sinks heavily onto the well-worn leather seat and runs a hand through her sleek, dark brown hair. It’s cut short, with a few tendrils falling onto her forehead in gentle waves, and I catch the scent of lilacs as she leans over slightly to reach into her purse. A moment later, she coughs into her elbow a couple of times.
“You okay, miss?”
After a wheezing breath, she grabs the bottle of water the bartender set in front of her, nods, then takes a sip. “Fine. Stupid asthma. Someone was smoking just outside the lobby doors.” She doesn’t meet my gaze, instead focusing on the menu in front of her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.” Staring at my beer, I try to forget the pain in Dani’s voice when I called her.
“I had one brother disappear on me, Austin. Are you trying to make it two? Because it sure seems that way.”
With a flinch, I drain my first beer and signal for another. The woman beside me glances over as I curl my fingers around the bottle, and something in her eyes is too alluring for me to turn away.
“You didn’t pry.” Her hesitant smile fades as she sets an inhaler on the bar top. “You were being a gentleman. Or…at least a halfway decent guy.”
I snort. “Can’t say I’m either. At least not anymore.” The alcohol is clearly going to my head, and I crack my knuckles to help me focus. “My mom has asthma. It only bothers her during ragweed season, but she has a couple bad attacks every year.”
“It’s the humidity for me.” She tilts her head and holds out her hand. “Mikayla.”
“Austin.”
Mikayla’s grip is solid, as is her stare, stripping me of my defenses layer by layer until I release her fingers and reach for my drink again.
“Not a whole lot of Americans in San Cristóbal de Las Casas this time of year,” she says. With a quick glance at the menu, she signals the bartender, then orders a taco plate and returns her focus to me. “Outside of my team, you’re the first one I’ve met. Or…at least the first one I’ve talked to.”
“Your team?” Curious, I shift on my stool and take her in. Petite. Maybe five-foot-five at most. Curvy, but compact. Flawless, tawny skin, high cheekbones, perfectly sculpted brows, delicate fingers.
