Point Blank Seal

“I can’t be certain because...” Miguel absently smoothed the pad of his thumb across a lock of Mikey’s hair, over and over.

“Because what?”

“Something seemed off at the debriefing center.”

“What do you mean by that?” The faraway look in Miguel’s eyes had her digging her fingers into her upper arms. How much psychological counseling had he received after his imprisonment? Miguel had nerves of steel, but conditions like he’d experienced, even though he wouldn’t tell her about them, would be enough to break anyone.

“What seemed off, Miguel?” She glided slowly across the room until she hovered above him, still seated on the edge of the bed.

“I felt like I was being held captive again.”

“That’s understandable.” She dropped her hand to his shoulder and squeezed.

“I escaped the compound in Maryland just as surely as I escaped from my cell in Afghanistan.” He threaded his fingers through hers and she felt the slight tremble of his hand. “Something wasn’t right at that compound, Jennifer—something or someone.”

“You’re scaring me, Miguel.” Was he imagining things? Paranoid? She untangled her fingers from his and stepped back, shooting a quick glance at Mikey.

A stab of guilt lanced her belly. Miguel wouldn’t hurt his son. He’d been nothing but tender with him ever since he rescued him from that burning room—and that fire hadn’t been the figment of his imagination.

His dark eyes flickered, and he pushed to his feet. “I don’t want to scare you, Jen. Maybe I never should’ve come back into your life. I probably led the bad guys—whoever they are—right to your doorstep.”

“That’s not true.” She pressed a hand to her hot cheek. “They’d already found me. They broke into my house. Th-they’ve been watching me.”

His head jerked around. “How do you know that?”

“I just felt it, even before the break-in.”

He curled a hand around her neck. “You need a safe place, you and Mikey.”

A safe place? Away from him? “I have to finish out the school year. There are two more days of class this week and the fifth-grade promotion the day after tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’ll get you through the rest of the school year.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Now you need to get to sleep. You and Mikey take the bed and I’ll bunk here on the couch.”

She drew her eyebrows over her nose. He wasn’t going to sleep with her his first night back? She’d dreamed of lying in his arms so many times over the past two years and now that she had him within her reach, he was slipping away.

Was it because he saw the doubt in her eyes?

He pressed his index finger between her eyes as if to flatten out her frown. “I’m not going to sleep. I’m going to keep watch over you and Mikey.”

“You look tired, Miguel. You need to sleep, too.”

“I’ve gone without a good, full night’s sleep for so long now, I don’t even know what I’m missing anymore.” He pointed to the bathroom. “You first. Go brush your teeth and all that.”

Ten minutes later when she came out of the bathroom, Miguel, sitting on the edge of the sofa, glanced up from his cell phone, his face drawn, his eyes hollow.

Jennifer forced a smile to her face and swallowed. “All yours.”

He turned his phone facedown on the table beside the sofa and jumped to his feet. “Crawl into the bed next to Mikey. I’ll be done in two minutes and then I’ll keep watch over both of you.”

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, she rushed to the phone, grabbing it before it could go to sleep. She tapped the display and the most recent text message came to life.

As she read the words from Josh Elliott, one of Miguel’s sniper teammates, her heart did somersaults in her chest.

She was still clutching the phone when Miguel emerged from the bathroom, and she held it up to him, reciting the words she’d memorized.

“‘Mole. Don’t know how deep. Gunning for you—and Jen.’”

Chapter Four (#u46a7807e-34b5-5688-a14a-acd85a67ef0e)

A muscle in Miguel’s jaw jumped. “You read my text?”

“That’s all you have to say?” She waved the phone at him. “When were you going to tell me?”

“About the mole?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just found out.”

“I repeat. When were you going to tell me about it? Ever?” She tossed the phone against the back cushion of the sofa, and it bounced and landed on the floor. “You’re not back twenty-four hours and you’re already keeping things from me.”

Heat burned in his chest, along with the guilt. “Jen, this is different.”

“Really? Aren’t you going to tell me that I’m better off not knowing for my own safety? Why don’t you let me decide what’s best for my own safety? Were you planning to leave me again for my own safety?”

Clasping the back of his neck, he bit the inside of his cheek. The thought had crossed his mind that with him out of the picture, Jen would be safe, but Josh’s text indicated the mole was after Jennifer, too.

As she studied his face, her eyes grew round. “You were. You were going to leave us—me and Mikey.”

In two steps, he ate up the distance between them and pulled her stiff body into his arms. “I’m never going to leave you again. Yeah, I did think maybe you’d be better off without me back in your life, but I learned to be selfish in captivity. I’m not gonna let you go—not now, not ever.”

She struggled against him for a few seconds until he cupped her face in his hands and planted a desperate kiss against her lips. Then she seemed to go boneless in his arms, melting against his chest.

She pulled away from his kiss and whispered hoarsely in his ear, “Don’t ever leave me again, Miguel. I almost died when they told me you were dead.”

He massaged a circle on her back and rested his chin on top of her head, the honey-blond strands of her hair clinging to his beard.

She hooked one arm around his waist and slid the other hand up the front of his shirt, splaying her fingers across his bare chest. “Make it real. Let me know you’re back.”

Throwing a quick glance at his son’s sleeping form, Miguel stepped back from Jennifer’s searching hands. If he needed an excuse for not being intimate with his fiancée, that excuse lay in a flushed tumble on the bed. “Is this a good idea?”

Tugging at his shirt, she replied, “He’s not even two. He’s not going to know what’s going on over here even if he does wake up. And he won’t.”

All his muscles tensed, but Miguel tried to put a smile on his face. “If you say so.”

“I say so.” She bunched his shirt in her hands and yanked it up. “Help me out here.”

Holding his breath, Miguel pulled his shirt over his head.

Jennifer gasped.

Miguel crumpled his T-shirt in one fist. “Yeah, maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. I probably should’ve warned you.”