Shadows and light the co.., p.79
Shadows and Light: The Complete Series, page 79
Even with her muddled mind, she could still see his heated expression as she got into the van. Nothing that was said the night before mattered. He’d found her guilty and convicted her on the sidewalk of the ER.
Who was the bigger asshole? Ryan, for destroying her life from the inside out, or Mac McNeil, for not having a little faith in her?
Her hands covered her face and her heart took a nose dive. Gabriel! Was he still with Jason and Sarah?
She jumped off the cot and hugged her waist as she paced. There was no noise coming from the other part of the house. She moved to the window. After a quick glance between the slits in the shutter, dread like she had never known churned alongside the fear. There was nothing but harsh desert, sparse bush, and spiny, leafless cacti blistering under the afternoon sun. “Where the hell am I?” Lexie’s scratchy whisper filled the room.
“My grandfather’s ranch,” Ryan said from behind her.
She spun around. Seeing Ryan so casually propped against the doorjamb morphed her fear into hot, sizzling anger. She charged across the room and raised a hand to slap the stupid expression off his face, but he caught her wrist in his grip. When she raised the other hand, he grabbed it, too, and slammed her back into the wall. His irises darkened to almost black.
“I hit back hard, Lexie.” He flipped her around so her face was rammed into the filthy wallpaper, and bound her arms behind her back. He pressed his body against hers with his mouth at her right ear. “Understand?”
Ryan was a fighter. Big mistake taking on an adversary she didn’t know.
“Yes,” she cried out as he brought her arms up her back.
He yanked her away from the wall and shoved her onto the cot. Her shoulder slammed against the wall. Out of well-practiced instinct, she curled her body into the far front corner of the cot. Ryan didn’t approach, but instead grabbed the only chair in the room. He reached for the ceiling fan chain hanging just above his head and pulled it twice. The blades twirled faster, blowing warm air down onto her.
“It’s almost 100 degrees. Too damn hot for this shit. Here, drink,” he said, tossing her a water bottle.
Lexie grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap. The liquid was cool, not cold, but it felt wonderful as it slid down her parched throat. After two gulps, she choked out, “What do you want with me?”
Ryan pulled the chair up to the cot and saddled it. “Not to hurt you, unless you force me to.”
“I have nothing you need.”
He brushed his palm over the sweat at his hairline. “That’s where you are wrong. You’re exactly what I need.”
“Don’t you get it? I’ve only worked for Roland a few months. I know nothing. I never worked on the drone or—”
“I have a well-trained team. You’re not here as mission support.”
“Then why am I here? I have a son. He needs me.”
This time, focusing on Gabriel didn’t help with the panic attack. It sent her into overdrive and the room began to spin as she searched for something to throw up into. One second her body was curled in a ball in the corner of the cot, and the next she stood with her back braced against Ryan’s chest.
“Breathe with me,” he said, his voice low, almost soothing. “We’re going to let it out slowly to the count of ten.”
She tried to tune Ryan out and draw her focus inward, but his very presence sent her into a full-hell panic attack mode, the worst she’d had in a long time.
“Again, Lexie. Slowly, no gulps, and we’ll let it out as we did before.”
It shouldn’t have worked, but it did. His hand rubbed up and down her back in an unhurried rhythm. “Now repeat after me, ‘At all times, focused, alert, and in control.’ Try it,” he whispered at her ear.
She centered in on his voice and began reciting the phrase, the repetition comforting. It took several minutes, but her heart rate slowly lowered and the nausea subsided. She eased away from him and crossed the room.
He reached for her bottle of water and handed it to her. “Take a sip.”
The water settled in her stomach. The attack had taken so much out of her, she could barely stand. If Ryan weren’t blocking the cot, she would have laid down. Instead, she leaned her shoulder against the window frame and allowed her eyes to roam the starkly beautiful landscape visible through the slits.
“You need to eat something. There isn’t running water or electricity, but there is food.” He moved to the door and eased it open with his boot. “The sun’s beating down on this side of the house. It’s cooler in the other room, or we can go out on the porch.”
Lexie wasn’t sure where she got the strength, but she moved away from the window and followed Ryan into the other room. The large L-shaped room was empty of furnishings except for a weather-beaten wooden table sitting in the middle of what used to be a dining area. The cupboards, counter, and appliances had been removed, leaving behind only a faded outline of what the kitchen once looked like.
Several maps of Texas and Mexico covered the long wall of the living room. Red pushpin flags marked different border crossings from the southernmost point in Brownsville to El Paso. Surrounding the map were several aerial views of the border crossing, not just from the United States into Mexico but from Mexico into the United States. More aerial views of rooftops were pinned off to the side.
“What is all this?” she asked, moving in for a closer look.
“We’ll get to that.” He reached for one of two cardboard boxes sitting in the middle of the table. He ripped off the top of the gray pouch inside the cardboard. “Meal-Ready-to-Eat. Beef chili is my favorite. It’s still very hot from the flameless heating unit, so handle it from the sides.” Pulling out a wrapped plastic spoon, he handed it to her. “Almost as good as home cooked.” He gave her a quick smile. “At least that’s what I like to tell myself. Go on, chow down. We’ll talk after you get something in your stomach.”
She took the package and gave it a quick sniff. The chunks of stew meat looked real, and it didn’t smell bad. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a meal.
The first bite went down, as did the second spoonful. It wasn’t the worst thing she ever put in her mouth, but it wasn’t comfort food. Just as she swallowed the fourth bite, the memory of Marcus’s moans as he hit the pavement sliced through her. She set the meal on the table and took a sip of water, hoping it would settle her stomach.
Ryan scrutinized her as he finished his meal. When done, he placed his plastic spoon inside the bag and reached for her half-eaten meal. “That’s all you can get down?”
“Yes.”
He rolled the package and dumped it into a trash bag hanging off a nail in the wall. “If you get hungry, there are other choices, as well as crackers with cheese spread. MREs take getting used to, but you should be okay as long as you drink.”
“Did your men kill Marcus?”
“No. They roughed him up a little. He was patched up at Brackenridge and released a couple of hours ago.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He slid his finger along the display and held it out so she could see it.
The photos of Marcus leaving the ER with Jason McNeil and another agent spread across the screen. His arm was in a sling, and cuts and bruises covered his face from his forehead to his jaw. But he was very much alive.
“Why? What did Cole or Marcus ever do to you?”
Ryan leaned on the table, resting his foot on one of the scarred wooden chairs.
“Nothing. The men are sometimes a little zealous. I needed your location. Had I been there, I would have known that your friend didn’t know anything. My men did what they know how to do.”
“How did you know—”
“That they weren’t lying to me? I read people as easily as I can read the instructions on this package.” He held up an MRE. “Call it my super power. You need to remember that, because I don’t like it when people lie to me.”
Her body shuddered. She wrapped her arms around her waist. If she were going to get back to Gabriel, she couldn’t lose it. With the man in front of her, she wouldn’t survive the attack. “I don’t lie.”
“Good, then we should get along well.”
“I have no money to speak of. There’s Gabriel’s trust fund, which I’m sure you know about, but that would be petty cash to you.”
“I don’t want your money, Lexie.”
“Then what the hell am I doing here?”
“Every great battle throughout history has had its pawn. You’re my pawn.”
Don’t react, damn it, don’t give him anything. Lexie let his words settle until she could find a comeback. “I don’t understand what you're talking about. You have the wrong person. I will not help you to―”
Ryan’s shoulder muscles stiffened as his facial features turned hard. She couldn’t help taking a step back.
“You will help me, Lexie Trevena. I control your future. Without my help, you will be charged with treason and lose everything, including your son. But once you hear me out, I think you’ll be more than willing to do your part.”
Not likely asshole. She planted her practiced blank expression on her face and moved away from him. She now understood the uneasy feeling she’d had about him from the beginning. The man was bat-shit crazy.
“My part?”
“Yes, you have a part to play in this mission.”
“What mission?”
“First we’re going to repair the damage at our borders, and then we’re going to take the man responsible apart piece by piece.”
“Who?” She hoped her words came out in a spineless gasp. Letting him think she was defenseless gave her an edge.
“Senator Daniel Ramirez.”
“What does any of this,” she said, waving her arms at the maps attached to the wall, “have to do with Senator Ramirez? As for hurting the man, you destroyed his home and placed him in the hospital.”
“And when we are done with him, he won’t have a tin cup to pee in.”
“I’m not part of this. I will not help you destroy anyone.”
“Want to bet?” Ryan stalked toward her, his hands fisted at his side. “Do you think I just picked you off the street, Lexie? That I went through the trouble and expense to put you in this position because our coffee date didn’t go as planned?” He edged her back against the wall and braced his hands on either side of her head. “You’re a bright, intelligent woman. By now you should have realized that I get what I want. Since you matter to our dear senator, you matter to me.”
“The closest I have come to Senator Ramirez was a campaign poster hanging in Marcus’s café. You picked the wrong woman off the street. I’m nothing to the man.”
“You matter a great deal to Ramirez. You’re his bastard, and he has spent the last twenty-four years hiding you from his life.”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up from deep inside her. She tried to swallow it because Ryan wasn’t the type of man who would appreciate being laughed at, but she couldn’t hold back. The guy really was crazy. He’d completely ruined her name for nothing.
“God, Ryan, what hat did you pull that asinine idea from?” She broke free of his hold and stalked to the other side of the room. “No, he isn’t. My father is dead. My mother—”
“Your mother is a lying, mean drunk who has taken her hatred of Ramirez out on you your entire life.”
Any fear in Lexie was now transformed into pure, unleashed hatred. “If my father were Senator Ramirez, my mother would have never allowed him to forget it. She would have used him—”
“But that is exactly what she did. For years, she accepted monthly payments from him. When you married that idiotic agent, he cut her off for good.”
There was such conviction in his words. He believed everything he said. She placed her hand over her heart, trying to separate herself from the pain of the truth. “If that’s true, then he has known—”
A chill settled over her.
“He has known about you since before you were born.” Ryan closed in on the space separating them. “He paid your mother to abort you, but she used the cash on herself instead. Once you were born, she held you over your father’s head. Self-righteous prick has paid her a small fortune.”
Ryan stepped into her personal space, so close the stench of sweat and chili overpowered her.
“Senator Daniel Ramirez left you in the hands of your drunk, sadistic mother while he lived in that estate in the hills with his perfect family.” He brushed the hair from her face. “Are you sure you don’t want to help me destroy the bastard?”
Chapter Fifteen
Lexie shoved at Ryan’s chest and headed toward the front door. Out on the porch, she stopped at the railing and choked down the bile in her throat as her nails dug into the rotten wood. Ten men dressed in desert fatigues spread out around the perimeter of the yard heavily armed with semi-automatic rifles looped over their shoulders. Their hostile glares at her slammed home that they would do nothing to help her, and there wasn’t any sign of life as far as she could see. Lexie was completely alone with a madman. While fear settled deep in her gut, it took everything in her to keep from slamming her fist into the bastard’s nose.
She didn’t have to turn around to know he stood directly behind her with that sick smirk on his face. Like her mother, Lexie’s pain gave him pleasure. Part of the plan - keep her off her game and in such a chaotic emotional state, he could manipulate her to do anything he wanted.
Fuck that. Lexie had her own mantra; Don’t cry, don’t show weakness. No way in hell was she going to fall apart in front of him.
Ryan handed her the water bottle. “Everything I said is the truth. Deal with it and move on. I need you.”
“Why should I believe a damn word out of your mouth? You’re nothing but a fucking terrorist.”
He gripped her elbow and swung her around to face him. “I’m a Marine, lady, and we’re at war. Control your temper or I’ll control it for you.” He slammed his palm into the porch post. “The terrorist is your father.” He balled his fist to his side. “The righteous son-of-a-bitch built his reputation and power on a pack of lies. It’s bad enough Ramirez gained his seat in the Texas Senate using cartel money, but when he started lobbying for free trade and open borders between the United States and Mexico, something had to be done. No one is taking the threat seriously. I didn’t serve five tours in Afghanistan so Ramirez could invite the world’s most dangerous terrorists into my backyard through the fence.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ryan dug into his cargo pants and pulled out several photos, shoving them at her. “My best friend growing up lost both legs from an IED. The military may have dismissed him from duty, but he hasn’t stopped being the man they trained. He spends every night sitting at different border crossings and taking photos of who is entering into the United States.”
He indicated one of the black-and-white photos. “That photo was taken at one of the unguarded border crossings.” He pointed to one of the men in the group. “This guy in the lead is a high-ranking member of one of the largest cartels on the border.” He switched photos. “He appears again here. Do you recognize anyone in this photo?”
“Senator Ramirez.”
“Which is proof that dear old Dad is getting cozy with known leaders of the cartel.”
“Ryan, the man is just standing next to the senator.” She couldn’t make herself call Ramirez her father. “It could mean anything. I don’t understand how I am involved in any of this.”
“Aren’t you just a little curious who the other three men in the photo are?”
“No, I’m not.”
“They are al-Qaeda. Mexico’s largest supply of heroin comes from Afghanistan.” Ryan glanced out over the landscape. He grew still, unnaturally quiet for a long time before he said, “Mexican cartel and al-Qaeda. Doesn’t that paint a pretty picture?” He focused his attention back on her. “My friend has hundreds of photos just like this one. But it doesn’t stop at drugs. Since the cartels have well-established smuggling routes, they have started moving Taliban remnants into the country, well-trained men and women who know how to blend into our lives.”
“I have nothing to do with that.”
He moved closer and took hold of her jaw. “This problem affects all of us. Ramirez has to be stopped, and you’re going to do your part.”
Lexie took a good look into his eyes and shook her chin free. The craziness was too familiar. Like her mother, if she pushed him too far, he would unleash his anger all over her.
“Until a couple of minutes ago, I didn’t have a clue my father was Senator Ramirez. I’m not my parents, but I have survived them. If Ramirez is doing what you think he is, then contact the Department of Homeland Security. I’m not going to stand in your way, but leave me and my son alone.
“From what I see,” she said, glancing out at the yard where his men still glared at them, “you don’t need me, and I’m of no value to the two people who gave me life.”
“You’re the bait to draw Ramirez out. He can no longer hide the truth about you. He will also tell me names and addresses of every fucking bastard he smuggled into the country so I can stop another 9/11 from happening in every major city.”
Backing away from him, she couldn’t help urging, “Then show the world the damn paperwork, photos …”
“You don’t understand, Lexie.” He crowded back into her personal space. “Ramirez really is a good father. He may have kept you hidden, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you.” He placed his callused hand over her throat. “How much information will he spill if, say, I do this?” He pressed down on her larynx, cutting off her oxygen.
“Stop,” she choked out. She twisted her neck and broke free only because he allowed it. Focus, don’t show weakness spread through her mind, keeping her breathing even. If she slugged the bastard in his sanctimonious face, she would quickly find herself eating dirt mixed with her own blood. She had to find a way out of here in one piece.
“My part of this insane mission is to allow you to torture me in front of my father to make him talk?”
