Sheltering Dunes (34 page)

Mica struggled against the seductive undertow that pulled her farther and farther from shore. Without fire, there was no heat, without heat, there was no life. She knew how to fight for what she wanted. She knew how to fight for what she needed. She remembered soft lips, strong hands, the protective curve of a warm body holding her, keeping her safe. There was the fire. There was the passion. She held on to her anchor and swam against the currents. Swam toward the flame.

*

“Mica,” Flynn said urgently. “Mica, I’m here, baby. Everything is all right.”

Mica’s eyelids fluttered. Flynn leaned over and brushed her fingers through Mica’s hair. “It’s all right. You’re in the hospital. You have a breathing tube in and you can’t talk. I’m right here, everything is all right.”

Mica started to thrash, and all the bells and whistles and alarms started blaring.

“You’re in the hospital, Mica,” Flynn said steadily, calmly. “You are all right. I promise, I’m right here.”

Mica’s eyes flew open and her gaze fixed on Flynn. Flynn’s breath caught, fearing to hope. Recognition flared in Mica’s eyes, and Flynn smiled.

“Hello, baby. Welcome back.”

Tory, weary from only a few hours’ sleep for the past several nights, arrived home from her daily trip to the hospital in Hyannis a little before seven p.m. Her spirits lightened at the sight of Reese’s SUV in the drive. She parked and hurried inside. Reese, still in uniform, sprawled on the sofa. Reggie played with Jedi on the floor amidst a mountain of plastic blocks.

“Hi.” Tory kissed Reese and curled up next to her.

Reese wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “How are things?”

“No big changes, which is good at this stage. Any news?”

“I talked to Rebecca Frye this afternoon,” Reese said. “Alvarez is looking at hard time in a maximum-security federal prison, and he’s starting to see the big picture. Hector and the other La Mara leaders are going to view him as a liability, and that does not say good things about his life expectancy.”

“I thought one of La Mara’s honor badges was to do time without giving anyone up.”

“That’s true,” Reese said, “but that mostly pertains to low-level members who don’t know enough to be a threat to the leaders if they talk. If someone like Alvarez, who knows a lot about the organization, cuts a deal to shorten his time or to get moved out of the general prison population, he could take down some important gang members.”

“Wouldn’t it make the La Mara members uneasy if one of them was arrested and then ended up being killed in prison?”

Reese rubbed Tory’s back. “As long as nothing ties Hector or any of La Mara’s leaders to the execution, a death in prison is just business as usual. Rival gang members square off against each other all the time. Being shivved in the shower is a routine occurrence.”

“So he’s got to think cutting a deal now is his best option.” Tory edged closer on the sofa and wrapped her arm around Reese’s middle. “If he doesn’t talk, he’ll never be able to prove that he hasn’t, and the threat to the organization will be there as long as he’s in prison.”

“Which is going to be a damn long time,” Reese said grimly. “Remember, he shot Mica and put Smith in the hospital.”

“I talked to the neurosurgeons today,” Tory said. “Smith’s edema is subsiding and they don’t think there’ll be any need for surgery. He may be out of work for a while, but he’s going to be fine.”

“That’s one message I’ll be happy to take to his wife,” Reese said.

“Do you think they’ll be able to shut Hector down?” Tory unbuttoned the middle button on Reese’s shirt and slid her hand inside.

“Put his crew out of business completely? Doubtful. But while the local gang is reorganizing and the leadership is chaotic, Rebecca’s team will have a better chance of putting someone undercover.”

“It really is a long-term plan, isn’t it?”

Reese covered Tory’s hand and pressed Tory’s fingers to her abdomen. “It’s a lot like a war. You know the endgame, but not how long it will take to get there or how many battles you have to wage before the last one.”

“What about Mica?”

“That’s going to be up to her,” Reese said. “There are not going to be any easy choices, if and when she’s ready to make them.”

“She’s showing signs of improvement. Her scans are clear. She’s got youth on her side.”

“Good,” Reese said. “She deserves a shot at freedom.”

“How about you, Sheriff? Are you going to be able to take a break soon? You’ve been in the office or filling in on patrol for the better part of a week.”

“Soon. I’ve recruited some officers from up-Cape for temporary duty.”

“Good,” Tory said, tracing the curve of Reese’s ribs with her fingertips. “You’d better start storing up on sleep as soon as you can.”

Reese’s eyes darkened and she tilted Tory’s chin with a finger beneath her jaw. “And why would that be?”

“Because I’m feeling decidedly pink these days.”

Reese grinned. “Are you sure?”

Tory nodded. “I told you it was a home run.”

“I love you.” Reese stroked Tory’s abdomen and kissed her. “Both.”

Tory relaxed against her, knowing whatever was coming, she’d have Reese to lean on and a lifetime to celebrate.

*

The face bending over her was familiar—wheat-blond hair, sharp cheekbones, strong jaw. Compassion in the deep blue eyes. Something was missing, something she needed. Mica blinked, tried to sit up, and someone said, “Everything is all right. You’re going to be fine.”

The voice was wrong. She thrashed, trying to sit up.

“Mica, baby, it’s okay.”

Mica turned her head and the swirling anxiety in the center of her chest subsided. This face she knew, deep down inside. These blue eyes held love and tenderness. The voice was soothing and reassuring. She swallowed, her throat burning. “Flynn?”

She knew this smile too, playful and sure.

“Hi.” Flynn folded Mica’s hand between hers and kissed each knuckle. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mica slowly swiveled her head until the other face came into focus. Flynn, but not. “Who are you?”

“I’m Matthew, Flynn’s brother. Hello.”

He was handsome, but not as handsome as Flynn. The collar around his throat was different too, but she had no trouble envisioning that on Flynn. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m happy to,” he said.

She hadn’t thanked him for herself, but he probably knew that. If he was anything like Flynn, he understood the meaning behind the words. She wasn’t sure of all that had happened, but she knew where she was, and what Carmen had done. Flynn would have needed someone.

“Did he hurt you?”Mica said, returning her gaze to Flynn.

“No.” Flynn sounded rusty and worn. “Just you. You surprised him and after he…shot you, he took off.”

Mica swallowed. The nightmare wasn’t over. “He got away?”

“Oh no,” Flynn said quickly, and Mica’s dread evaporated. “They got him.”

“Dead?”

“No, arrested.”

That might be better. Mica felt around her body—tape on her chest, plastic tubes sticking out of her side and her arm and her leg. Breathing hurt and her throat was raw. “How long have I been here?”

“Almost three days,” Flynn said. “You had surgery. They took the breathing tube out last night, and you’ve been sleeping on and off since then.”

“How about you?”

Flynn stroked Mica’s hair. “I’m just fine, now.”

“You should go home, rest.”

“I will. In a little while.”

Mica squeezed Flynn’s hand. “Remember, you’re not supposed to lie.”

Flynn grinned. “
A little while
is open to interpretation, so technically, I’m not lying.”

On the other side of the bed, Matthew laughed. “I hope to talk to you again, Mica, when you’re feeling better.” He waved to Flynn. “Good luck with the new position.”

Mica’s stomach dropped. “What new position?”

“My brother spoke to the bishop. The church in town needs an assistant priest. The job’s mine if I want it. I’d still keep my EMT post too.”

“Do you want to?”

Flynn rubbed her throat. “Yes, I do.”

“And do you get to wear that sexy collar?”

Flynn laughed. “Yes.”

“Then I’m all for it.” Mica loved the shy excitement in Flynn’s face. Heat raced along her spine and her mind wandered to an image of lying with Flynn, limbs entangled and supple flesh beneath her palms. She wanted her, in her heart and in her body. “When can I get out of here?”

Flynn laughed quietly and stroked her arm. “A few days. A week. You had a lot of surgery. The doctors tell me you’re going to be fine. A hundred percent.”

“Good—can I…can I stay with you a while?”

“A while? How about forever?” Flynn kissed her hand. “Remember the
I love you
part? That means we’re together, all the way…if you want.”

Mica’s breath stopped. A swell of expectation, so foreign, so wonderful, flooded her. “What’s happening with Carmen?”

“Last I heard, he’s ninety-plus certain to testify against Hector. That will put Hector and the others away. Dell—Detective Mitchell—feels pretty certain once they start arresting the leaders, getting some of the other members to turn informant will be easier. You’re going to break that gang, Mica.”

“Until then,” Mica said, “I might not be so safe to be around.”

“I don’t want us to put our life on hold waiting for anything.”

“I don’t want you hurt,” Mica whispered.

“I won’t be.” Flynn leaned down and kissed her. “I just need you.”

“I need you too,” Mica whispered. “But what if—”

“Baby,” Flynn murmured, “we can figure it out when you’re feeling a little stronger. Sheriff Conlon—Reese—has some ideas about how to protect you.”

“Like what?”

“No one knows the name you’ve been using here,” Flynn said slowly. “As far as Carmen, or Hector, knows, Mia Gonzales is dead.”

Mica’s chest tightened and she winced.

“What is it?” Flynn asked. “Does something hurt?”

Mica shook her head. “I can get behind letting everyone think I’m dead, even my family—at least for now. They’ll be safer if Hector thinks I’m dead. But I’m not going into that program.”

Flynn’s brows drew down. “What program? You mean witness protection?”

“No way,” Mica said. She wasn’t leaving, not unless Flynn wanted her to. Flynn was all that mattered.

Flynn rubbed Mica’s fingers against her cheek. “Damn right you’re not going into witness protection. You’re not going anywhere at all. You’re staying here with me, where you belong.”

The tightness in Mica’s chest eased. Flynn wanted her. Flynn loved her, and she loved Flynn. She did belong somewhere, finally. “If you’re here, that’s where I belong.”

Radclyffe has written over thirty-five romance and romantic intrigue novels, dozens of short stories, and, writing as L.L. Raand, has authored a paranormal romance series, The Midnight Hunters.

She is an eight-time Lambda Literary Award finalist in romance, mystery, and erotica—winning in both romance (
Distant Shores, Silent Thunder
) and erotica (
Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments
edited with Stacia Seaman and
In Deep Waters 2: Cruising the Strip
written with Karin Kallmaker). A member of the Saints and Sinners Literary Hall of Fame, she is also a 2010 RWA / FF&P Prism award winner for
Secrets in the Stone
. Her 2010 titles were finalists for the Benjamin Franklin award (
Desire by Starlight
), the ForeWord Review Book of the Year award (
Trauma Alert
and writing as LL Raand,
The Midnight Hunt
), and the RWA Passionate Plume award (
The Midnight Hunt
). She is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBT publishing companies.

Book Three in L.L. Raand's Midnight Hunt series.