Javier (Alpha Heroes #12)

Chapter Eleven

Missy

A heavy weight sat over my chest as I guided the little donkey by the rope down the dirt road. It was quickly becoming a muddy creek around my sneakers. It irked me to no end that I wanted to cry like a baby. I couldn’t believe I was moving away from Javier when every fiber of my being was telling me it was the wrong thing to do.

The rain fell in heavy sheets, obscuring my vision. Thick, heavy drops pelted my head and soaked me to the bone. With my free hand, I wiped the water cascading down my cheeks, but it was useless. More kept coming.

The power of Javier’s kisses still warmed my lips. The pull to return to the camp felt urgent, and I had to grit my teeth and force my feet to keep moving in the opposite direction.

“Come on, buddy,” I tugged on the rope, urging the amiable little beast into a faster pace.

I jogged beside the donkey, leading by example. The little beast didn’t exactly give me a burst of speed, but it did go into a lazy trot. Under the downpour, Sister Elsa sat stiff and very straight, bouncing on the animal’s back like a pogo stick. Or a lightning rod.

Oh, shoot. Don’t think that way .

She held on to the donkey’s mane, her long face dripping with rain. Sister Janet rode behind her, brick-faced and soaked, her short salt-and-pepper hair plastered around her round face. Holding on to Sister Elsa for dear life, she looked like a basketball attached to her hoop.

How long had we been gone? Ten minutes? Twenty? Thirty?

I had no idea.

Lightning streaked the sky. The memory of a nightmare flashed in my mind.

Droplets pounded on flat stones. Rivulets ran between the rocks. Snakes, some coiled, some slithering, some hissing. A viper, rearing up to strike. The flash of fangs. A thin streak of blood on skin. “We’re running out of time,” a familiar voice yelled. “Please don’t go.” Someone whispered a soul-wrenching plea. “Stay with me.”

The nightmare had been terrifying, and yet only a few details lingered in my head, phantom snippets robbing me of context .

The dream has nothing to do with today. I tried calming myself. Nothing at all .

The nightmare had been intertwined with my other dreams, some good, some bad, some puzzling. The ones I remembered the best were the good ones, especially the erotic ones about Javier. I also recalled the pre-sentient ones about the Sisters of Charity being evicted out of Nicaragua and the orphanage on fire.

There had also been the small, short ones that had me bolting out of my rickety cot in the morning and jumping into action. Like the one last week where I’d dreamed there was a poison dart frog in a bucket. I’d ran out screaming like a crazy woman and stopped Sister Janet right before she tipped the bucket over the three-year-old undergoing his daily bath. Sure enough, the poisonous frog, capable of stopping someone’s heart upon contact, had been happily enjoying a swim in the bucket’s water.

Dreams like these always left me feeling uneasy.

Some of my dreams felt like warnings. Others, like the ones about Javier, had been semi-realized. Why and how, I couldn’t even begin to explain. Brain malfunction? Disease? Mental condition?

Whatever was happening in my scrambled head, it was terrifying. Who on earth wanted to know the future? Who wanted the awful responsibility of preventing bad things from happening? How could I recognize which dreams were babblings of my imagination, which ones were warnings, and which ones would become reality? And finally, who the heck wanted their nightmares to come true?

Not me, that’s for sure .

I tugged on the lead rope, but the donkey refused to trot again. Like me, it didn’t wanna move forward. My belly roiled. What if the nightmare about the snakes was about to happen? Worse, what if it was happening right now, even as I tried to make sense of stuff that made no sense at all?

Thunder rumbled above. It echoed through me as if it were a disembodied voice cautioning me of danger. Or perhaps it was a warning to listen to my gut. Javier had come all the way here to find me. Now, I was leaving him behind to face off with my fate. Sure, he was strong, competent, resourceful, and he’d sent me away for my safety, but he’d also said the boat carried five mercs. He was one man taking on five violent brutes.

What if he got hurt or killed because of me? Why should he value my life over his?

Maybe I was a scaredy cat at heart, but I had principles. My father used people all the time. He squeezed them like lemons only to toss them out when they ran out of juice. Well, I wasn’t like my father. I’d spent the last three years proving that to myself.

“Here.” I gave Sister Janet the lead rope. “Don’t stop. Keep going that way.”

“But cailín ,” Sister Janet protested. “The fella said—”

“I have to go back.” I didn’t have time to explain.

As the first weak rays of dawn began to pierce through the darkness, I turned around, and edging the road, raced toward the camp. Drawing from my track and field days, I kept my upper body tall, pumped my arms, and planting each foot under my hip, widened my stride. Splashing over puddles, I vaulted over rocks, ravines, fallen trees, and the gushing streams growing under the downpour.

We’re running out of time. The words echoed in my head.

I had to get to Javier before my nightmare came true.

***

Javier

“Last chance.” Snake grinned, an awful grimace that animated his tattoos, making all the snakes on his face writhe at once.

“Neat trick.” I waved a hand over my face. “You look evil, but I’m not gonna shit my pants if that’s what you wanted. Has anyone told you that you look like a fucking cartoon?”

“What a shame.” His jaw flinched and the coral snakes squirmed. “You’ve got skills, and good help is hard to come by. You can join us voluntarily. Or not at all.”

Wham.

The tango that fell from the mango tree landed on me like a hammer on a nail. The hit caught me on the head and shoulders and left me smarting from the impact. One of his beefy arms fastened around my throat even before we hit the mud, cutting the flow to my airways fast and efficiently.

Fuck the fucker .

He landed on his back and pulled, taking me down on top of him. Our tactical vests slammed against each other, my back to his front. His strapping legs came around mine and wrapped around my knees to immobilize my lower body. He gripped my right wrist and slammed my right hand down into the mud, wrestling me for control of the gun. The dickface was a bit of a giant and as strong as an orangutan on steroids. I wedged my left hand between his forearm and my neck, trying to break his iron hold.

“You should’ve accepted our offer when I gave you the chance.” A preening Snake came to stand above me as the raindrops splattered over my face and eyes. While his merc strained to hold me in place, he reached down, unhooked my carbine from my vest, and flashed his horrible smirk. “Too late now.”

“Is it?” Flexing my biceps, relying on a surge of will that focused my strength, I overpowered the ape trying to choke me. I lifted his right hand along with mine, and aiming my Glock at Snake as best as I could, pulled the trigger.

The shot hit low, but it worked.

“Fuck!” Snake dropped my carbine, fell to the ground, and slapped a hand over his thigh, trying to stem the flow of blood blotching his pants.

The merc holding on to me squeezed his forearm tighter around my neck. With a decisive twist, he punched the gun out of my grip. I planted a foot and pressed back on him with all my weight. As black spots began to form at the outer edges of my vision, the specter of failure taunted me.

Hell, no. I needed to get out of this headlock now.

Moaning and stumbling, Snake pushed off the ground. Keeping a hand pressed on his wound, he retrieved my carbine from the mud, and flashing his fangs, aimed it at my head. “You’re gonna die for this.”

“No!”

My opponent, Snake, and I turned toward the sound as one. A blur of black and white launched from a slight rise and shot through the air, towing a dark red streak through the deluge. Even as I fought my attacker, I recognized the hellion that pounced on Snake.

Missy’s compact, athletic form vaulted fast and high. In her best hurdling form, her upper body inclined in a forward motion, cutting through the downpour like a knife through butter. She came at him like a bat out of hell, running at top velocity.

My heart stopped and time slowed down to show me the minute details—her left arm folded ahead, her right arm stretched behind, and her right leg fully extended in front of her.

Her foot struck Snake on the exposed surface above his tactical vest, crashing against the spot where the neck joined the chest. She followed through as if he was but a hurdle she’d vaulted over. He fell flat on his back, croaking hoarsely. Losing his grip on my carbine, his hands shot up to his throat. Missy landed on the other side of him, tripped in the mud, and rolled forward head over heels.

Holy shit. Missy was here. Right fucking here.

The merc holding me down might have superhuman strength, but he didn’t know who he was fucking with. Or that Missy’s presence was the ultra-charge I needed. He was probably as shocked as I was by the sight of the slight woman who’d struck down his boss as though her body was a lethal arrow. I crashed the back of my head on his face.

Crunch .

I registered the pain of the hard blow but I was too hiked up on adrenaline to feel it much. The hit also freed my hands and legs from his grip. I reached back, gripped the tops of my opponent’s tactical vest, and jumping into a crouch, pulled the man over my head and slammed him on the ground.

Splat.

The merc sank in the mud. I slid Snake’s gun from the back of my pants and pulled the trigger. Click . Nothing happened. Fuck . The thing was jammed. The tango sat up. With his back to me, he scrambled to push up from the mud. I tossed the gun aside, slid out my knife, and grabbing his head, twisted his neck and ran my blade across his throat.

He went still under my grip.

“Javi!”

I leaped up just in time to watch Snake rising from the ground. In one hand, he held Missy’s leg, dragging her with him. With the other hand, he groped through the mud, trying to retrieve my carbine.

“Oh no, you don’t.” I could’ve grabbed one of the discarded weapons laying on the ground, but given the mud, I had no certainty any of them would work. He had his hand on Missy, my carbine almost within reach, and I had no time to fuck around. Knife in hand, I tackled the piece of shit with a full body hit.

Snake lost his grip on Missy. His back smashed against the mango tree. The lean-to came crashing down, but the asshole kept his feet. He wrapped his hand around my right wrist and muscled his way out of my strike range. His blustery breaths scented the air with an acid tang. Even with a round in him, he was a tough motherfucker.

A blade shot out from under his left sleeve. The knife bit into my flesh. The sting alerted me to his trick, and I caught his arm in my grip.

Son of a bitch .

Bringing up my knee, I struck his lower belly. A rush of air shot from his lungs. Deflecting his blade with mine, I clawed my left hand, hooked my finger through his cow ring, and pulled.

The shriek that shot out of his throat belonged in hell. Blood gushed from his nose and sifted between his fingers. His ripped septum flapped above his mouth. He dropped his blade. I jammed my knife in its holster, trapped his neck between my hands, and squeezed, watching the light dimming in his eyes, waiting until he lost consciousness so I could take him with me for that long overdue chat—

“Behind you!” Missy’s scream warned me.

I turned around a second before several rounds plunked into the tree. The last of the tangos made an appearance.

“Take cover,” I barked at Missy.

A steady stream of rounds followed my hasty retreat. I dove across the camp, drawing the man’s rounds to me, and away from Missy. I rolled behind the jacaranda tree, and still the turd kept shooting. Between barrages of fire, I peeked. On the other side of the camp, I couldn’t see Missy. I spotted Snake, diving into the tree line. Damn the fucker. Limping, he disappeared into the foliage.

Where the hell was Missy? My stomach dropped. Had Snake taken her?

Before I could get too worked up, the indiscriminate shooting came to a stop. Another glance showed me Missy, standing to one side of the shooter, aiming at him with my Glock. Held between her shaking hands, it dripped with mud, but she kept it up.

Brave gal .

“No more shooting,” she said, her voice high and curt. “Drop your rifle.”

The man kept his carbine on me and his finger on the trigger, but I knew all his senses were now focused on the woman standing in his peripheral view. A sickly sun peeked out from the overcast horizon. My rifle lay across the clearing. My Glock was in Missy’s hands. The only weapon I had was my knife, but I was too far away to use it. The merc had me pinned down behind the fucking tree.

“Drop your rifle,” Missy ordered again, her voice wispy. “Drop it.”

“Shoot the bastard,” I shouted. “Don’t wait. Shoot him!”

“You don’t wanna shoot me, princess,” the asshole said, his voice almost kind as he kept his aim on me. “You haven’t spent all this time doing good deeds only to damn your soul now, have you? I heard you’re too nice to do something like that. Too kind.”

“Don’t test me.” She firmed up her voice, but another peek showed me her arm shaking and her knees buckling. “I really don’t want to kill you.”

“I know.” The smirk on Shitface widened. “I wish I could say the same, but if I don’t kill you, I don’t get paid.”

My blood froze in my veins when I spotted the murderous gleam in his eyes. This was a man paid to commit murder. He whirled around, finger already pulling on the trigger.

Knife in hand, I launched myself toward the assassin.

Crack .

A bloody mist burst from the side of the man’s head. He dropped to the ground at my feet. Working on automatic, I snatched his rifle, pulled the carbine to my cheek, and protecting Missy with my body, turned in a three-sixty, checking the space around us for additional threats. No more tangos. I did spot Sister Elsa, carefully sliding off the little donkey, and Sister Janet, standing next to the animal, partly concealed behind the nearby trees by the road.

The growl of an engine in the distance announced Snake had made his escape. Fuck him. He could crawl in a hole for all I cared. I was gonna find him anyway, and when I did, there was gonna be hell to pay.

“Clear,” I barked mostly out of habit, then I bent down and tested the mercs’ pulse.

Goner .

My training gave me the presence of mind to turn off his tracking tablet and slip it into my vest. Keeping my senses on swivel and my guard up, I stalked to Missy, slid out my Tak from her leggings’ pocket, and tossed it at the roots of the jacaranda.

“Cover your ears.” Two shots from the carbine and the thing cracked into tiny pieces. I lowered my weapon. “No one’s gonna track you now. No-fucking-one.”

I snatched her into my arms and hugged her to my chest tighter than I’d ever held anyone in my life before. Shouldering the dead merc’s carbine, I cupped the back of her head and pressed her face against my chest, where my heart beat so hard I feared it might break out of my ribcage.

The worst of the storm had passed, leaving behind a steady rain shower to wash some of the mud sticking to us, but the fear? The terror of losing Missy when I’d just found her?

It would stick with me forever.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, right before she fainted in my arms.

“Missy?” I held on to her limp body and sat her gently on the wet ground. “Angel, please, what’s wrong?”

Despair sat on my chest and dread weighed down my guts. Had she been hit? Riddled with anxiety, I looked for wounds.

“It’s okay, wain.” Sister Janet came to stand by my side. “She does that sometimes.”

“Does what?”

“She faints,” Sister Elsa announced, feeling her way with her cane until she stood next to me. “It’s a stress-related response, a mercy from God, I believe.”

Ah, yes . I recalled that she suffered from fainting spells. I felt like an idiot. For an instant, that odd sensation of fear had altered my wits. Didn’t mean I liked seeing her senseless any less.

“Fuck that,” I swore. “She’s not waking up.”

“She won’t be long now,” Sister Elsa insisted. “She’s going to be fine.”

“Are you sure?” I demanded.

“Fairly so,” Sister Janet returned. “Look at her. She’s beginning to come back to us.”

“Missy?” Holding her against my chest, I caressed her face. “Angel, can you hear me?”

“Give her a moment,” Sister Elsa advised.

“Meanwhile, do ye want us to throw away the thugs’ weapons?” Sister Janet asked.

“Proceed.” I forced myself to think. “Throw them into the swamp, but keep my weapons. Look through the mercs and retrieve anything of informational value, like cells and shit.”

“Very well.” Sister Janet took Sister Elsa’s elbow. “Off we go, deary.”

“Come on, Angel.” As soon as the nuns turned around, I planted a kiss on her forehead. “Wake up. I need you to be all right.”

Her eyes fluttered open. A small frown etched her forehead. She blinked the confusion from her eyes. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” I said, riding a wave of relief that allowed me to breathe again.

“Oh, shoot.” She sat up, and after scrubbing her face, met my gaze. “I hate when it happens. I hate it so freaking much.”

“Me, too.” My cramped guts fully agreed. “Do you think you can stand?”

“Yeah.”

She clung to me as I helped her to her feet.

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled. “It’s some sort of neurological condition—”

“I know.” I braced her against me. “Still, I about shit my pants.”

“I try not to faint.” She slumped her shoulders and stared at the ground. “I’m such a wimp.”

“Don’t you dare put yourself down.” I cupped her chin and met her gaze. “You just took on a bunch of mercs, for fuck’s sake, and disarmed Snake like a pro. What the hell were you thinking?” My voice caught and a rush of emotions I couldn’t begin to understand tightened my chest. “I told you to go away. Why the fuck did you come back here?”

“I had to,” she murmured, staring at her hands.

“Why?”

Her throat rippled and the way she looked at me stole my breath away. “I had to help you.”

I may have shaken the reckless woman a little. “You could’ve died!”

“You could’ve died too,” she returned, her eyes moist. “I couldn’t abandon you. I couldn’t leave you behind.”

I bit down on my lips and almost wept at her words, at how much they meant to me in so many ways. An old wound throbbed somewhere behind my sternum. I’d left a man behind once. I’d never gotten over that. But Missy, she wasn’t like me. She was so much more.

Something inside of me broke. This good, kind, lovely woman had risked her life, gone against her beliefs, used a gun, and killed someone to protect me.

What a waste of goodness .

It was my fault that her pristine soul now bore the mark of a life taken.

I crushed her against my chest and brushed my lips on her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I know you didn’t want to use a gun or kill anyone.”

“I didn’t kill him,” she whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

I drew back and studied her face. “You didn’t?”

“He was right. I couldn’t do it.” Her liquid gaze shifted from the dead man, to the gun on the ground, and then to me. “All I’m good for is fainting.”

The grimace that twisted her face hit me hard. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” Her shoulders dropped. “I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

“But if you didn’t kill him, then who the hell did?” I asked, frowning.

“That would be me, ye big hunk.” Sister Janet stepped up, holding the gun I’d given her in her hands. “I killed the feckin’ shitehawk. The good Lord forgive me, but good riddance, I say. The world needs less of them and more of yerselves.”