Part 21 (1/2)
”Were the killers caught?”
”No.”
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. Jess thought she was finally beginning to get a glimpse into the man who'd kept himself so hidden away. The man who drove himself so relentlessly.
”Everyone I've ever cared for has ended up dead,” he said in a rough voice.
Her gaze snapped to his. ”It wasn't your fault.”
”My wife and child weren't the only ones, Jess.”
She looked at him. A part of her didn't want to hear what he was going to say next. Another part of her knew she must.
”A year ago a woman I cared for deeply was killed in a car accident. We'd argued. She took off.”
”Oh, Madrid.” Jess couldn't imagine the grief of losing so much in such a short period of time. She stared at him, aware of hot tears building behind her eyes. For the first time the ferocity with which he'd forbidden her to help him nail the smugglers made sense.
”Don't cry,” he whispered.
”What you've been through...it's incredibly sad.”
”It is.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close. ”If I've learned anything from this, it's that life goes on. But you don't ever take it for granted.” He pulled back just enough to make eye contact. ”And you never take needless risks.”
She gazed back at him, hurting for him, for the h.e.l.l he'd been through. ”Some things are worth risking.”
”If you're talking about putting yourself on the line, Jess, I'm not going to let you do it.”
That he cared and so readily admitted it made her chest swell. But Jess knew eventually she would have to make a decision. And that in doing so she would probably hurt him all over again.
”I have a confession to make,” she said, drawing away.
Madrid glanced at her and raised a brow. ”You're not going to shock me, are you?”
She smiled, but it felt forced. ”I just want to be honest with you.”
”About what?”
”I'm not very good at...you know...this,” she blurted.
Madrid nodded, but his expression told her he hadn't a clue what she was getting at. ”You want to qualify that?”
”Relations.h.i.+ps,” she said. ”I was married for five years. It ended badly. The divorce was...messy.”
”That happens sometimes.”
”It was my fault, Madrid. The divorce, I mean. I just wasn't good at...the whole relations.h.i.+p thing. In fact, I pretty much sucked at it.”
He set both hands against her cheeks and looked into her eyes. ”Maybe he wasn't good at it, Jess. Did you ever happen to think of that?”
”I'm impulsive,” she said. ”I take risks. I do stupid things sometimes without considering other people's feelings. I get angry and say things I don't mean.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. ”I could be way off base, but it sounds like you might be human.”
”I don't want to screw this up.” She hadn't meant to say it, but the words came out before she had time to think of the repercussions.
”Let met get this straight,” he said. ”You're not afraid to face down a bunch of cutthroat smugglers, but when it comes to me you want to turn tail and run?”
”That pretty much covers it.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile. ”You scare me, Madrid.”
”I'm a p.u.s.s.ycat.”
She laughed. A second later he joined her, and their laughter rang out, the sound of simple human joy.
Madrid sobered. ”All I ask is that you stay out of this smuggling thing. Let me handle it.”
Because it was one promise she could not make, Jess lifted her mouth to his. When he resisted, she deepened the kiss.
”You don't fight fair,” he muttered.
”No,” she agreed. ”I don't.”
Abruptly Madrid puller her against him and kissed her like a man possessed.
He took her to another precipice, higher and more powerful than the first. As Jess tumbled into another wild free fall, she tried hard not to think about what she would have to do come daylight.
MADRID WOKE to the soft chirp of his cell phone. Groggy with sleep, he squinted at the lighted display and put it to his ear. ”Madrid.”
”Mike...”
The sound of his brother's voice made the hairs at his nape stand on end. ”Matt? What's wrong?”
A groan sounded, then his brother's guttural voice said, ”They have the boy. I tried to stop them, but...they shot me.”
The words sent an electric shock of fear through Madrid. He jumped to his feet, grabbed his jeans off the floor and stepped into them. ”How bad are you hurt?”
”I took a bullet in the gut.” He groaned. ”I'm bleeding like a pig.”
”Is there someone there who can help you?”
”Father Tom. He called an ambulance.”
Madrid closed his eyes. ”When did this happen?”
”A few minutes ago.” Another groan. ”Mike, these guys are bad news.”
Knowing all too well what the smugglers were capable of, Madrid squeezed his eyes closed. ”Did they say anything?”