Javier (Alpha Heroes #12)

Chapter Nine

Missy

The news punched me on the chest. The air rushed out of my lungs. The night closed around me, dark, dangerous, and suffocating.

My father was dead.

I met Javier’s eyes. He was telling me the truth. The control freak who’d forced me to run away from my life was no longer around. I didn’t know what to do, how to feel.

“When—” I sucked in some air and forced myself to make words. “When did he die?”

“A few months ago.”

Father had been dead for months and I’d had no freaking idea.

I looked down on my clasped hands.

Father was gone. My fingers turned white under the pressure.

It struck me that I was officially an orphan. My mother had died when I was very young. Other than the memories my sisters had shared with me, I had no recollections of her. On the other hand, my father had trampled all over my life, leaving me scarred with his disdain and his temper tantrums. Why, then, did I feel like crying?

My gaze roamed over the water. Unlike me, the lake was calm at this late hour. I wondered if any of my sisters were awake and looking at the same sky. Small ripples kissed the shore and a warm, lazy breeze blew through my hair, reminding me of Thena’s gentle touch as she comforted me when I was a kid. I shut my eyes. I wished she was with me right now. With all of us gone, she’d been all alone when Father died. Knowing her, she’d probably taken the brunt of the consequences of his passing. Then she’d been poisoned.

Oh, Thena .

I swallowed a sob. At least she had Dash with her now. It was some consolation, but it didn’t erase the pain and guilt lodged in my throat. She’d been my rock all my life, and I hadn’t been there for her when she needed me.

Memories of my father drifted in with the clouds overhead. On those occasions when we’d come home from boarding school and he joined us at Astor House, I lived in terror. I scrambled from his presence, locked myself in my bedroom, and avoided him at all costs.

Everything about him frightened me. His stern voice and his alcohol-scented breath blustering over me when he’d drank too much; his glare whenever I tried to make eye contact with him, which taught me to stare at my hands or my feet instead; his preference to ignore me whenever I walked into a room, as if I didn’t exist, or worse, with disdain, as if being my mom’s last born had somehow made me the cause of her death; his wrath whenever I cried and after every fainting episode I’d ever had in his presence. Every word that came from him was a put down. Every sentence stabbed at my heart.

Without thinking, I lifted my hand to my chest and massaged the sore spot. I’d learned the hard way that when a little girl’s heart is broken, it was difficult, perhaps even impossible, to mend. Because of my father, I’d learned to distrust men. I had no expectations from them, no wish to be in a relationship.

I dropped my chin to my chest. A few tears escaped the corners of my eyes. I swiped at them angrily. My throat closed with the effort to stop myself from grieving for a man who’d never shown me love. My body trembled as I fought to control my emotions.

I kept my head down. Javier already thought I was young and silly. I didn’t want him to see me crumble into small, pathetic little pieces. I cleared my throat. “I need a little space.”

“I hear you, Angel,” he murmured. “But I’m not leaving you alone out here.”

“Why not?”

“I need to keep you safe until I turn you over to your sister.”

He sounded as if I was a baton in a race and he was eager to pass me on.

“You’re also sad,” he added, almost like an afterthought. “I don’t want you to be sad all alone. It hurts me. Here.” He bumped the top of his fist on his chest. “Don’t ask. Can’t explain. Only that it hurts.”

For some reason, his words uncorked my waterworks. The tears rolled down my face, slowly at first. Then more came and my sobs got stuck in my throat. I couldn’t hold off the onslaught much longer. The sob trapped in my throat escaped. I dipped my face in my hands and covered the deluge springing from my eyes.

“Come here.” He hooked his arm over my shoulders and pulled me to his side. “I’m told crying’s a good thing, so cry away.”

I brought up my knees and leaned against his big, warm body. For a few minutes, all I could do was bawl. I couldn’t stop. I was such a wimp. My father would’ve been livid. My sobs shook my chest, my entire body. Javier’s arms encircled me as if trying to keep me together.

“You…” I hiccupped. “You think I’m acting like a child, that I’m pathetic and weak.”

“You’re none of those things,” he returned with conviction. “Any idiot can see that. I’ve watched you handle some tough shit. You’re brave, like your sister Thena. You’re Astor strong.”

Three years of loneliness plus a lifetime of sorrow poured like waterfalls from my eyes. Hiding my face in the crook of Javier’s neck, I wept until the side of his T-shirt was drenched and I had no more tears left. I was a mess, but he was a stoic champ. He didn’t yell at me, or call me names, or put me down. He wasn’t like my father. Instead, he let me cry, rubbing his hand in circles on my back, caressing my hair, soothing me with his quiet presence.

“I’m not crying for him,” I sniffled.

“I think you are.”

“You didn’t know my father.” I tilted up my head and met his eyes. “He was a dick with a capital ‘D.’”

“Oh, I’ve heard.” He tightened his hold on me and perused the cloudy night. “The thing is, sometimes we love assholes.”

“What?” I stared up at him.

“What I said. I’ve never told this to anyone but…” He hesitated before he went on. “My dad used to hit my mom. I beat the son of a bitch to a pulp when I was thirteen. After that, he never came back to bother us. Still, when I heard he died, I was kind of sad. Mad and sad. There’s a reason those two words rhyme.”

I spotted the pain in his eyes and sensed the scars that tortured him so. He understood exactly how I felt. It must’ve taken him some effort to share that tidbit with me. He wasn’t just hot as sin. He had heart. And soul.

I sank deeper into his form. The silence stretched between us, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. He waited for me to right myself. After a while, I faced off with my truths.

“Maybe I’m crying because he’s dead,” I admitted aloud. “Because even if he was a dick, he was my father.”

“Amen to that.” He gave me another shoulder squeeze.

“I’m also sad for all the pain and sorrow I’ve witnessed in the last three years.” I sat up, snatched off my ponytail and let my hair hang loose. “The world can be such a cruel place for so many people.”

“For a great majority,” he agreed. “The poor, the sick, the powerless.”

I wiped my tears and lifted my face up to the sky. “I really wish it was different.”

“Yeah.” His long exhale enveloped me in the scent of him. “Me, too.”

“I thought that—”

“That what?”

“That coming out here and working with the order would help, you know, with the guilt.”

He drew his eyebrows together. “What guilt?”

“My father wasn’t a nice man,” I said. “He hurt a lot of people with his greed.”

“Let me guess.” He took a deep breath. “You thought that if you came out here to help people in need this would somehow make up for his behavior and maybe even free you from the blame you felt over his greed?”

“Something like that,” I said. “How did you know?”

“We all have shit to atone for.” His sigh about broke my heart. “But you’re not responsible for your father’s actions. You can’t make up for other people’s mistakes.”

“I know that now, but it was worth a try.” I managed a little shrug. “I don’t regret my time here. I do hate that I had to split up from my sisters. I’m so scared for Cece and Affie. Javi, what if they’re dead?” My heart ached as though it had split in two. “What if they’re being chased right now by beasts like the ones that attacked us?”

“I get you’re worried about your sisters, but remember, they’re as well-hidden as you were. We’ll find them before the assassins do.”

“I hope so,” I said. “On the other hand, we’ll never get back the time we spent apart.”

“I reckon it’s real painful to be cut off from the people you love.” His fingers slid through my hair, stoking memories of my dreams, where he’d caressed me just so. “It’s okay to cry when your family is torn apart and a bad guy dies. I hope someone will cry for me when I go.”

“Javi?” I wiped the tears from my eyes and studied the grief etching his features. “You’re not a bad guy.”

“Yeah. I am.” He huffed resignedly. “I fight for a living. I’ve failed people that trusted me. I kill when I have to.”

“You’re a soldier,” I reminded him. “Sometimes you have to make hard decisions, but you make lots of good ones, too. You came here. To get me. You rescued us from the mercs. You helped Sisters Elsa and Janet. You carried Sister Elsa for a long time on your back today.”

He offered a cynical snort. “You may have had something to do with that.”

“But you did it, not me.” I paused and thought of something. “Are you… alone now?”

“Mom went last year,” he offered reluctantly. “It about killed me. I’ve lost a lot of friends. One in particular…” His voice trailed and his Adam’s apple bounced on his throat. He glanced at me then back at the lake. When he finally spoke, his voice came out hoarse. “I’ve got the team now, but… it’s been rough.”

I settled my hand on his. “I’m sorry for your losses.”

He inclined his head and held on to my fingers. “I’m sorry for your losses, too.”

“I’m especially sorry for all my ugly crying.” I flashed a tentative grin and tried to lift our somber moods. “Nobody should have to see that, let alone have to put up with it.”

“Nothing you do is ugly, Angel.” He lifted a hand and ran his fingertips along the side of my face, recreating a scene from my dreams down to the words he said next. “You’re beautiful. You’re perfect, even when you cry.”

It came to pass naturally, easily, as if it had been waiting to happen all day. He looked down and his gaze lingered over my lips. At the same time, my deep awareness of his mouth grew. Surrounded by the dark shade of his whiskers, his lower lip was wider than his upper. The notch above his lip gave him a distinctly etched phylum that defined his eminently masculine and totally kissable mouth.

His lips brushed over mine tenderly, so gently. They were warm and vital and delicious, just as I remembered from the first time, and from my dreams, too, although the real deal was much more powerful. The feel of our mouths merging curled my toes in my shoes. I remembered what came next. I parted my mouth, craving him, eager to recreate the very flavors that blew up my senses—earth, iron, and fire.

My tongue dipped in his mouth and met his. A low rumble in the depths of his throat gusted through me like the wind catching a spark.

Swoosh .

I deepened the kiss, guided by a flare of heat that melded us together. His stubble rubbed against my skin. Another sexy growl rattled his throat, a sound that had me moaning in appreciation of his passion.

This was not a boy’s fumbling attempt at a kiss. Or a gold digger’s faked advance. It was a grown man’s possessive kiss, wild passion devouring me and unleashing my desire. He raked his mouth over mine, stealing my breath, quickening my pulse until the veil between dreams and reality faded and the only thing that mattered was him.

His hands moved over my body, exploring my flesh. His fingers curled around my hair. I trembled beneath his caresses. Moved by a primal force I recognized from my dreams, I leaned into him.

He shifted a hand to my breast. Oh, Lord . I almost pulled back, but it felt so darn good. He cradled my flesh in his palm as his thumb strummed my nipple, a slow, lazy brush. Raw pleasure roared through me. It was as if he and I had always meant to kiss like this, as if his mouth had been designed to fit over my lips and his tongue was meant to dance with mine.

“Stop.” He wrenched his mouth from mine and listened into the wind, rupturing the spell that had me caught in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, a breathless whisper. “Is it another donkey?”

“This ain’t no donkey.” Releasing me from his arms, he lifted into a crouch and grabbed his carbine. “Hear that?”

I tilted my head and caught a distant rumble. “A motorboat?”

“Coming in fast and without lights.” He motioned for me to follow him. “That’s a speedboat heading our way. Stay low.”

Heart hammering in my throat, I grabbed my backpack. Stealing through the grass, we moved north for a couple of minutes, then paused and took cover behind a cluster of trees. Lying flat on the ground, Javier whipped out his binoculars from a case strapped to his belt and focused them on the lake.

“Fishermen, maybe?” I dared to hope.

“Nope. Not fishermen. Nice speedboat. Over there.” He pointed into the total darkness.

“Can’t see anything,” I whispered.

“Activating night vision capabilities.” He worked his lenses. “Confirming speedboat. Five tangos. Armed for combat. Heading east by northeast.” He lowered the binoculars and narrowed his eyes. “If I had to guess, they’re planning to make landfall about two miles north of our camp. They’re hoping to surprise us by docking riverside and using the old road. But how the fuck do they know where we’re camping?”

“I don’t know, but… the nuns.” My stomach plunged. “We have to help them.”

“Why did I know you were gonna say that?” He put away the binoculars. “We gotta move fast. We’ve got fifteen mikes, maybe less if the fuckers move faster than average.” He pushed off the ground, and seizing his rifle, stalked through the high grasses. “Follow me.”

“What are we going to do?” I asked, sticking to his heels.

“You’re gonna do what I say,” he rumbled. “I’m gonna take care of the problem.”

I caught up with him and whispered even as we continued to move. “Do you have to… you know… kill them?”

The steely glimmer in his eyes told me he was already figuring out how he was going to handle this. “My job is to keep you safe. Considering they want to take you out, killing them is the most efficient way to make sure they fail.”

“Is there no other way?”

“I don’t copy.” He paused at the trailhead and stared at me.

“Can you… um…” I shrugged. “Tie them up or put them out, but not kill them, maybe?”

“Not likely.” He checked the mag on his handgun before he did the same with his carbine. “That’s harder, less efficient, and more dangerous. It leaves the killers able to kill you. Please don’t tell me you’re hung up in some religious mumbo jumbo or another.”

“It’s not about that,” I countered softly. “It’s just that every person has potential and every life has value.”

“I happen to value your life over theirs.” He started down the trail. “Stick with me at all times. Mum’s the word. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.” He broke out into a fast jog.

I had no trouble keeping up, but as I followed him into the jungle, fear soured my stomach. My heart boomed like a drum in the night. The bad guys had caught up with us and terrible things were about to happen. And yet, for some odd, unexplainable reason, one thought prevailed above the others: Javier had kissed me. A lot.

It had felt good—no—amazing, even better than the first time, if that was possible.

I decided on the spot. I wasn’t going to let him die, and I wasn’t going to die myself until he kissed me again, and preferably, many times. It was shocking, but after we got away from the mercs, I wanted the happy ending I’d witnessed in my dreams, the one that took care of the lust, and ended with both of us naked and sated.