Surrender to Me (38 page)

That should have been love’s role. When the Colonel had finally realized it, he’d let her go.

“I’ve known for years that you disapproved of me not fighting to keep your mother.”

His gaze snapped up, and he met his dad’s head-on. “I lost respect for you that day, sir.”

“You weren’t good at hiding it. I could hardly keep Amanda against her will. I did what I thought had the best potential for long-term success.” He shrugged as if he’d finally accepted years of pain and loneliness. “But after years of not hearing her unhappiness and not doing enough to change my ways, I was going to lose her, regardless.”

In that moment, everything crystallized inside Hunter. “You’re right. It takes a wise man to know when he can’t win. And a brave one to let his woman go.”

Hunter didn’t know if he was that brave.

The Colonel sent him a sad smile. “Apparently not too wise. Carlotta isn’t even mine, and I’m smothering her already. I know how I should behave, but I’m not good at implementing it. I suggest you learn, too.”

Or Kata will be gone.

Under the tangle of anxiety, denial, and anger, Hunter knew his father was right. And it made him sick to think that, in all the time he’d been trying to show her how much he loved her, he’d also been hurting her.

“You know that biblical verse, ‘Love isn’t selfish. It’s patient and kind . . .”

Hunter closed his eyes. Yeah, he knew, just as he knew he’d been selfish, impatient, and pushy. “Fuck.”

“Things between you and Kata aren’t as smooth as you’d like, are they, son? It’s hard when you’re newlyweds.”

“She already wants a divorce.” He forced the words out, pinching the bridge of his nose. It hurt to admit just how much he’d screwed up, but his dad was being so damn honest.

The Colonel sucked in a breath. “What do you want?”

“I love her. I can’t stand the thought of her not being mine.”

His father clapped him on the shoulder in understanding. “But if her heart isn’t with you, then she’s not yours anyway. Sometimes . . . you have to let go. Better to do it now, before she comes to hate you.”

His voice cracked as painful memories twisted his strong face.

Hunter watched his father leave the cozy room. He turned to Carlotta, seeing a lot of Kata in her slightly lined face. It hadn’t escaped his notice how disturbed Kata had been by her mother’s interaction with his father. Hunter just hadn’t been able to curb his own need to care for her in much the same way. But he saw now that if he didn’t change fast, he was going to lose her for good.

With a heavy sigh, he turned out the lights in the little bedroom, then wandered downstairs. Kata had gone off to bed, according to Logan, whose phone continued to beep.

“Insistent girl,” Hunter commented.

Logan shrugged. “Three of them now. All pain sluts.” He ran his hands across the top of his buzz cut. “It’s a game with them. They each want to be the one I finally sleep with.”

Hunter shook his head. Granted, with his own love life a wreck, he was the last one who should be offering advice, but he had to try to help his younger brother. “How long has it been?”

The question made Logan look away. “I don’t know. Maybe five years.”

A small eternity. Logan was too young and vital to be voluntarily going without. “Your palm chafed raw yet?”

Logan scowled and punched him in the shoulder. “Fuck off. I make sure they get what they need. Xander delivers the sex and aftercare.”

“Is sending in your clean-up man good enough for them? For you?” With a shake of his head, Hunter admonished, “Bro, you’re going to have to move past T—”

“
Don’t
say her name,” he snarled. “Don’t.”

Hunter held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Fine. You try talking to her again?”

Longing and misery crossed his face. “She slammed the door in my face.”

His shrug told Hunter just how futile the whole mess felt. It was a feeling that Hunter feared he was going to know all too well if he lost Kata.

The Colonel sauntered into the room with a grimace. “Couldn’t help overhearing. Her prick of a stepfather still lives in the same house. Adam Sterling smiles at me when I jog the neighborhood, as if he enjoys reminding me that his little princess broke my son’s heart.”

Hunter wouldn’t be surprised. Logan growled something ugly and anatomically impossible.

Before Hunter could point that out, his phone rang. He glanced at the clock as he pried the phone off his belt. Who would be calling at eleven thirty?

Hunter looked at his display, his belly tightening as he pressed the button to talk. “Jack, talk to me.”

“I’ve finally got some information, and you’re not going to like it.”

He hadn’t liked anything about Kata’s would-be assassin since he’d popped up. The whole thing stank.

“Kata’s hired hit man was ID’d through fingerprint records earlier this evening. I just found out. His name is Manuel Silva. The name mean anything to you?”

“Nothing. You find something out?”

“Yeah, this is where it gets ugly. He’s a well-known hit man, originally from Bogotá.”

The words sucked the air from his lungs. “Colombia? You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent. I made some of my local friends let me see the records before the CIA stepped in. Apparently, he was a person of serious interest to them. I’m still trying to learn why. The INS deported him a few years ago. He’s done a lot of jobs for lowlifes in the drug trade. He was last seen slinking around New Orleans a few weeks ago. His services were
very
expensive, probably close to one hundred grand a whack.” Jack sounded grim, and Hunter’s blood ran cold. “Whoever wanted Kata iced went to a lot of trouble and expense. The question is, why?”

For the first time in his life, he felt almost numb with fear. “I don’t know.”

“Kata doesn’t know anyone from New Orleans who might want her dead?”

“She’s never mentioned it. I’ll ask.”

“Good. I’ll keep seeing what else I can find and call you with any new information.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Though the news was really shitty. “Keep me posted.”

“What is it, son?” the Colonel asked as soon as he ended the call.

Hunter drew in a deep breath. “The assassin, Silva, is from Colombia. Probably came from New Orleans. I can’t figure out the connection. Cortez Villarreal deals in dope, but how would a small-town street thug from Lafayette even know the kind of badass killer who’s a person of interest to the CIA?”

“If Villarreal didn’t put that contract out on Kata, any ideas who did?”

“None.” It wasn’t adding up, but he honestly had no other suspects.

“Just because the connection isn’t obvious does not mean it doesn’t exist,” Logan surmised. “For all we know, Silva and Villarreal are friends, family, or one owed the other a favor. Or maybe he was hired because he was out of left field.”

“How could Villarreal afford Silva? But you may be right; I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Maybe there
is
a simple connection; I’m just not seeing it.”

Maybe. Whatever the case, Cortez Villarreal was the only suspect he had. Hunter would have preferred to hit the ground, shake people up, ask questions, dig up answers. But he was running out of time. Logan rose from the table, searching for his shoes, reminding him that it was nearly midnight, the dawn of a new day. He had just under three days to put this danger to bed once and for all. Thoughts raced as he made plans, discarded them, fine-tuned others. He wasn’t sure which would suit best without more information, but he hated all of them.

Hunter rang Jack again. As soon as the bodyguard answered, he fired off questions. “Do you know where to find Cortez Villarreal?”

“Exactly? No, but rumor is that he’s in the area and been laying real low over the past few days. I’ve been keeping tabs in case we need to have a meaningful conversation with him.”

“I think it may be time. When you find him, let me know.”

“I’ll get on it and call you back.”

The Colonel leaned in his face. “What are you thinking, son?”

Hunter gripped the phone, tamping down rising panic for Kata’s safety. “It’s time for something drastic.”

SUNLIGHT streamed through the windows Friday morning when Hunter heard someone grip the doorknob. He came to, sat straight up, and reached for his SIG on the bedside table. When the door opened, his wife, hair tousled across heavy breasts barely covered by a thin white tank top and wearing black lacy pajama pants that clung to her hips, entered. Damn. Hunter was always ready for sex with her, but the sight of her made far more than his cock ache.

“Sorry if I woke you.”

He glanced at the clock. Nine a.m.? He never slept that late. Then again, he’d spent all night holding Kata close, fearing their days together were numbered. He hadn’t fallen asleep until after five. “I’m glad you did. I need to get up. Honey, does the name Manuel Silva mean anything to you?”

Her blank stare told him everything he needed to know. “Should it?”

“Do you know anyone from Colombia? Where is Villarreal from?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly read his family tree when I was assigned to him.”

“Does anyone in New Orleans have a beef with you?”

She blinked, shrugged. “Not that I know of. I haven’t been there in a few years.”

At this point, Hunter had to assume there was some connection between Silva and Villarreal that he simply couldn’t see. He had nothing else.

“What’s this about?” She crossed her arms and stared expectantly.

“Maybe nothing. How’s your mom?”

Kata’s face closed up as she sat on the edge of the bed. Hunter tried not to be distracted by the fact that he could see her rosy areolas through the little white tank.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I appreciate all the trouble you and your father have gone through for her, but she’s not comfortable here. This morning, your father insisted on cooking for her again, carrying her out to the porch for fresh air, assisting her from room to room. He’s been glued to her side, jumping up with a box of tissues or her cough medicine every time she sniffles.”

In other words, his father knew what to do, and even after having his heart ripped out, he still couldn’t manage to change. Then again, Hunter hadn’t done much better last night at giving his wife space.

He cleared his throat. “Kata, having someone take care of her is good for her recovery.”

“Not if she can’t
relax.
The Colonel is being . . . a general. She isn’t comfortable with him hovering. She wants to go to Mari’s house, so I talked to my sister—”

“No. No way in hell am I taking either of you back to Lafayette now.” This wasn’t a good time to be inflexible, but damn it, she had to see the problems with her plan. “What if whoever wants you dead tracks you or your mother down? What if Gordon coerces her back home? Carlotta needs to give it more time here. She’s uncomfortable because she’s not used to others caring for her. She’ll adjust.”

Kata shook her head. “I don’t think so. Believe me, someone trying to kill me scares me, too, but I can’t leave Mamá here to get worse.”

“Carlotta won’t get much rest with two rambunctious grandsons underfoot. I’ll bet that she ends up waiting on them.”

Kata bit her lip and paused. “I was very clear with Mari that she can’t be out of bed.”

“Mari will have her hands full with her job, her kids, and a husband who lacks discipline. Your mother will naturally want to help. She can’t afford to.”

“Your father is totally overwhelming her.”

“The Colonel is too . . . attentive. He knows that and will work on it. I’ll talk to him.”

“You?” she sputtered incredulously. “
You’re
going to talk to him about backing off? Um, Pot, meet Kettle.”

He bridged the space and grabbed her wrist, pulling her against him. “You’re not using your head, Kata. You want to make your mother happy, but think about what’s best for her. Do you want her returning to Gordon? Because if she’s at Mari’s, he’ll browbeat her into it. If she stays here, the Colonel won’t let that happen.”

“Because he’ll smother her even more. Mamá doesn’t want to be here.” Kata tried to pull away. “I saw your point, now you need to see mine.”

He couldn’t afford to. “I can’t risk taking you or your mother to Lafayette now, with a potential assassin on the loose. I’m sorry. We’re staying.”

Kata rose and grabbed her suitcase. “You always have to be in charge, don’t you? It’s not just a bedroom thing, so stop pretending it is. And while you’re at it, sign those damn divorce papers. Mari is tied up at work today, so I’m calling Ben. He’ll give us a ride home.”

With that, she slammed out the door. Hunter scrambled out of bed to find his pants. As he shoved his way into them, he heard the slam of the nearby bathroom door, heard the shower start. She was batshit crazy if she thought he was going to let her put a door between them so that she could fucking call Ben and leave.

But he also couldn’t mow down her free will, or he’d lose her.

Hunter cursed, wishing for a convenient terrorist to put his fists into. Fuck, he didn’t want to sign those papers. But while he was on active duty, Kata could proceed with the divorce without him—and he’d be powerless to stop her. Regardless of his dad’s words of wisdom, he wasn’t ready to stop fighting for Kata.