Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) (36 page)

Marc envied the bond Adam and Damián had formed since Fallujah. Adam hadn’t assumed the parental role with Marc, probably because Marc hadn’t let him get that close, but he’d sure as hell given him advice over the years. Hell, even a head slap or two when needed. With Marc, Adam had picked up where Gino had left off. A protective big brother.

But he was more a father figure to Damián. Maybe parental love had nothing to do with genetic bonds but more with who raised you. Solari would never be a father to Marc. Gino, though only a few years older, had been the first to guide him in his early years. Then Papa, who had provided a steady influence over the man Marc had grown to be. He’d been Marc’s prime example of how a gentle, loving man treated his woman and raised a family.

Dio,
Marc wished he could hold Angelina right now. Would she even want to have anything to do with him after he’d avoided her for so long? Why couldn’t he get his head on straight when it came to her? To his past?

First, though, he needed answers and wondered how many of them were buried deep inside him. Whatever happened in his childhood had affected his life, on a subconscious level at least. But Gino was no longer here to answer his questions. And Papa, well, Marc couldn’t talk to Papa about this identity crisis either. He was ashamed to tell the man who raised him as his own that he’d felt the need to seek out Solari, the man who was nothing more than a sperm-donor to Marc.

Grant glanced over at Marc. “You’re awfully quiet, Doc.”

Doc. Funny how they all reverted to his nickname from deployment so easily. This certainly had been a combat mission.

“Just thinking. Hell of a mess.”

“We’ve been through worse. They survived.”

Thank God.
“Duly noted.”

Marc remembered how Angelina had been abused by Allen Martin—not nearly to this extent but enough that she’d had emotional scars from the ordeal.

Why were some men such fucking assholes?

There had been a time he’d thought he’d lost her to death. Damián had just been to hell and back thinking he might lose Savannah, too. Marc didn’t want to lose Angelina. He needed to get her back, but how?

That self-protective wedge he’d inserted into every adult relationship with a woman since Melissa and his tendency to run rather than face confrontation had caused Angelina to walk away from him. And he hadn’t done a damned thing about it. Was there still time to save their relationship? Maybe it wasn’t too late.

But first he had to sort out what to say and do. He couldn’t go straight to her and talk things out, because there was too much he didn’t understand about himself even now.

Before they’d left the cabin, Adam had smiled slightly and nodded, as if telling him he’d done well. That simple acknowledgement had warmed a cold place inside him. The man was the closest family he had since the Navy, even though Marc had kept him and everyone else at an emotional distance.

He needed someone like Adam to pull out those secrets his mind had harbored all these decades. Adam wouldn’t pull any punches or be gentle and polite about it, like Papa would.

Yes, he needed to talk to Adam. After they all got back to Denver and things settled down, he’d make sure that happened. Adam had almost lost Karla, but somehow managed to win her back. He’d know what to do.

Chapter Seventeen

A
ngelina jumped when Karla’s phone played the chorus to “She’s a Maneater.”

The worry on Karla’s face as she reached for the phone was tempered slightly by her muttering, “I need to change that ringtone.” She slid her finger across the screen and held the phone to her ear, fear evident in her eyes as her other hand reached for Angelina’s. “Hi, Grant. Is everyone okay?”

Grant, not Adam. Did that mean…? No, she wouldn’t go there. Angelina squeezed Karla’s hand in support.
Dio,
please let them all be okay.
Papa, watch over them.

When Karla slumped against the back of the glider chair, Angelina’s heart sank. She held her breath, waiting.

Karla asked, “How bad is she hurt?”

Fear clawed at Angelina’s throat. But she’d said hurt. Savi was hurt, but at least it sounded as if they’d found her alive.

Karla didn’t give anything away until she suddenly sat forward in the chair and made eye contact with Angelina. “Damián’s been shot?”

Oh, God, no!
What about Marc? And Adam? Grant must be okay if she was calling. Knowing the men, they’d kept her away from most of the danger.

Hearing only half the conversation was driving her insane. “Put her on speaker, Karla!”

Angelina turned toward the doorway and saw that the door to Marisol’s bedroom remained closed while she took a nap. The poor little girl had been having nightmares and screaming for her maman and daddy for two nights in a row. She needed her sleep.

“Sorry, Angie.” Karla put the phone on speaker, and Grant’s voice came through as if through a tunnel.

“Doc says it’s a through-and-through. Not even serious enough for him to get airlifted out with Savannah.”

Doc. Marc must be okay then, but she hated hearing one of the guys had been wounded.

“Where was he shot?” Angelina asked.

“In the calf, just above the prosthesis.”

Karla drew a deep breath before she could speak. “Will he lose any more of his leg?”

Angelina heard Marc ask Grant for the phone. She hadn’t heard him in such a long time that she froze, unable to breathe or speak.

“Damián’s fine. He won’t lose any more of his leg if he gets it looked at soon, and I’ll make sure he does pronto. He and Adam need to finish up the mission first.”

“You mean it’s not over yet?” The worry in Karla’s voice must have caused the baby to kick because she pulled her hand away from Angelina’s and rubbed the top of her belly.

“Don’t worry. They’re in no danger. We found Savannah, and the men who kidnapped her have been…detained. Just a little clean-up to do, that’s all.”

Angelina wanted to say something to him, but no words would come.

Karla spoke for them both. “Thank goodness. Let Savi know we’re thinking about her and tell her Marisol is okay.”

“Roger that. She’s been airlifted to a Palm Springs trauma unit. We’ll let you know what we find when we get there, but most of her wounds are superficial. I’m more worried about her mental state than anything else.”

Karla continued. “She’s strong. She’s already survived so much. I know she’ll pull through.”

“Look, our signal is getting weaker.”

Karla added quickly, “Wait, Marc! Is Adam okay?”

“He’s fine. Listen, Karla, Adam wants you to check with Doctor Palmer and make sure it’s okay for you to fly out with Marisol tomorrow. He said you might be on restrictions. I hope everything’s okay.”

What was going on? Why was she being restricted this early in her pregnancy? Karla didn’t make eye contact with Angelina. “No, Marc, everything’s fine. But I’ll make sure.”

“If not, then one of us will fly back to get her. The sooner Savannah is reunited…Marisol…quicker…heal.”

“You’re breaking up, Marc.”

“…call…later…” And the call ended.

Neither Marc nor Adam had included Angelina in that invitation to go to California. Why would they? She was just a friend, not family like Karla or even Savi. Maybe Marc wasn’t even aware she was sitting here beside Karla.

Why hadn’t she been able to say something to him? She’d had her chance to talk with him but had blown it. Thank God he was okay.

She melted against the wingback chair as Karla set the phone on the table between them. A shuffling sound behind her caused them both to turn.

Marisol stood in the doorway, her chin quivering with emotion. “Is Maman going to die?”

Poor thing! How much had she heard? Angelina was able to get up and go to her faster than Karla could, and she wrapped the little girl in a tight hug. “Your maman is safe now. The doctors and nurses are going to fix her right up. She wants you and Grammy Karla to fly out tomorrow so you can see her when she’s ready for visitors.”

Marisol broke into sobs and held on tightly to Angelina. These were the first tears she’d shed since this ordeal had begun, other than when her defenses were down in the middle of the night. She’d kept up such a brave front, despite having witnessed her mother being kidnapped. Not to mention the little girl had nearly been taken as well.

“Come, honey, let’s sit and talk.” Angelina didn’t know what she’d say but wanted to put the little girl’s mind at rest any way she could.

Angelina stroked her hair and held her against her chest. “Shhhh. Uncle Marc took really good care of your maman, and now she’s at a hospital where lots more people are going to make sure she’s all better, so she can come home.”

“Which home?”

Angelina didn’t know what Savi planned to do after this, whether she’d stay here in Denver near Damián or go back to her home in Solana Beach now that the threat against them seemed to be gone. “Home will be wherever you are.” That seemed safe enough.

“What about Daddy?”

Oh, she didn’t need to be having this conversation, although she and Marisol had gotten to know each other during the times she babysat while Savi and Damián went to the club.

Karla rescued her from saying the wrong thing. “Your daddy and maman both love you very much and will talk about all this when you see them. But first we need to do some packing.”

Marisol sniffled and picked at a decorative button on the sleeve of Angelina’s shirt. “The bad men shot my daddy?”

Karla nodded. “Yes, but he’s going to be all right, munchkin.”

“You asked Tía Grant if he would lose his leg.”

Angelina spoke up this time. “Uncle Marc said your daddy wouldn’t lose any more of his leg, honey. It wasn’t a bad wound.”

“More?”

“More what?”

“You said more of his leg. My Daddy has two legs, like me.”

Oh, dear God. Marisol didn’t know? How could she not know after all these months of living with Damián? And how was Angelina supposed to respond?

Once again, Karla came through for her.

“That’s something for Maman and Daddy to talk with you about, too. I promise I’ll let them know. They can tell you about what happened to Daddy when he was in the war with Grampa Adam, but he’s going to be okay.”

“Maman gave me a book about a soldier who got his leg cut off after bad people in the war hurt him. Is Daddy’s leg cut off?”

Marisol wasn’t going to be deterred. Apparently, Savi had been preparing her for the time they would tell her about the amputation, but it wasn’t Angelina’s or Karla’s place to reveal something so personal. That needed to come from the little girl’s parents.

“Why don’t you find that book for Grammy Karla so we can read it on the plane?”

“I left it at Daddy’s ’partment.”

Karla stood and reached for Marisol’s hand. “Then we’ll go there and pack anything you want to take on the trip. But first, I think we need to fix some supper. Grammy Karla and her baby are hungry, and I’ll bet you and Aunt Angie are, too.”

Angelina knew Karla would need to give Damián a heads up before Marisol bombarded him with questions. Angelina berated herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings, so they’d have known when Marisol was standing at Karla’s open bedroom door.

She still couldn’t believe Damián hadn’t told his daughter he’d lost his foot in Iraq. How did he hide it from her all this time?

* * *

After days spent at Savannah’s bedside, Damián thought she might heal faster if she got to see their daughter. He also needed a shower and to change the dressing on his wound. He walked into Rosa’s house and heard Marisol’s squeals followed by José’s shouts for mercy in the back of the house. He hoped his little warrior princess wasn’t in the process of annihilating the kid.

He walked into the family room and found Marisol had her older cousin in a hammerlock.

“Marisol, let José go!”

“Daddy!” She released her grip and ran across the room to Damián. “I missed you so much!”

“Looks like you’ve been too busy to miss me.”

“Oh, we were just playing. Right, José?”

The ten-year-old rubbed his shoulder to ease the cramp he must have gotten from having his arm twisted behind his back so far. “It’s okay, Tío Damo. She was just showing me some moves Tía Grant taught her.”