Donovan Cross walked out of the warehouse just in time. The blast nearly knocked him off his feet. He’d cut it close. A fireball mushroomed into the night sky, and a series of explosions rumbled through the old warehouse, grinding metal and toppling steel as it went.
Garrett Wheeler hadn’t been ready for his exit, but for the sake of the Sentinels, Cross had no other choice. While the building burned and sirens of emergency crews coming to the scene blared in the distance, Cross made a phone call.
“It’s done. You see it?”
He knew the man was watching from a safe distance, a bird’s-eye view.
“Yes, I do. And after you take over Wheeler’s job permanently, you can thank me later.”
The man ended the call, leaving Cross to watch the aftermath of what he had done. Now it was his turn to make his own enemies. And he had no doubt that Alexa Marlowe would top that list.
Somewhere in the Caribbean
Instead of going back to New York after Mexico, Alexa traveled with Jackson to the place he called home. Years ago, he’d bought a small private island in the Caribbean, using the money he had stolen from the cartels over the years. Most of his cash had wound up in the hands of charities, like the missionary school in Haiti run by his good friend, Sister Kate, the woman he’d rescued in Cuba. Kate hadn’t known about his Robin Hood gig either. And as far as Alexa knew, the nun still didn’t.
Drug cartels made for dangerous victims, but they never reported Kinkaid’s outlandish and resourceful thefts because he was too good to get caught. And Kinkaid definitely knew how to keep a secret.
That’s what he’d been doing before she hooked up with him in Cuba. Back then, Alexa had thought he was only a mercenary who sold his services to the highest bidder, and he’d never told her the truth until he’d brought her to his home and shared his life with her for the first time.
Maybe Kinkaid’s coming clean meant he cared what she thought of him. She hoped she was right about that.
Jackson lived modestly. He had a dock with a boat to get around. And his home was a small place on the beach. He had all the basic amenities, but he didn’t live in a lavish style, considering what he did for a living. But as simple and beautiful as his home was, Kinkaid had secret storage under his floorboards and in walls where he kept his stash of weapons, money, fake IDs, and anything else he’d need to disappear in a hurry.
Some things never changed.
“We should change your dressing and check out your shoulder. How does it feel?” she asked. When he gestured for her to sit next to him in the sand, she did.
“I’m good.” He nodded. “It feels better.”
Kinkaid had been sitting alone on the beach in cutoff jeans, staring out toward the ocean. His long dark hair looked finger combed by the warm sea breeze. And even though his face was still bruised, the sun had colored his skin to a rich brown, masking the torture he had endured in Mexico. When Jackson had gotten up that morning, he had gone off alone without saying a word. After Alexa had awakened to an empty bed, she’d gone searching for him, to find out why.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” she said. Forcing a faint smile, she braced for the worst. “You want to talk about anything?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she replayed every moment she’d spent with him, alone on his island. The days they’d spent together, while he healed, had been quiet, peaceful ones, filled with the sounds of lapping waves, exotic birds flitting from branch to branch in the lush green canopy overhead, and moonlit walks on the beach.
The first time they’d made love, it had been filled with urgent need that they both shared. Flashes of that memory would always be with her. And she remembered crying when it was over. The rush of emotion had overwhelmed her. Her being together with him, finally and completely, had been the culmination of years of her intense, one-sided attraction.
And last night they had made love on a blanket under the stars. Even though a bottle of chilled white wine had played a part in their loss of inhibition, the moon shining down on their bare skin had been magic. Jackson had undressed her. And his strong hands and warm mouth had stirred a passion she’d never felt before.
She never felt closer to him than she had last night, and she’d been certain that he felt the same, until this morning, after she’d awakened alone.
“There’s something I want you to do with me,” he told her. “You may not want to. And I’ll understand if you can’t . . .”
Before he finished, she let him off the hook and stroked his windswept hair. He’d become her addiction, and she couldn’t resist touching him.
“What is it?” she asked.
He swallowed hard as he stared at the ocean, but eventually he turned toward her, giving her his full attention with his intense green eyes.
“I have the ashes of my wife and child here on the island with me. I’ve kept them here. And I haven’t been able to let them go.” When his words caught in his throat, and his eyes filled with tears, he reached for her hands and held them in his. “But I think with you here, I can do that now. Will you . . . help me?”
Alexa had no words. She pulled him into her arms with tears of her own rolling down her cheeks. She knew how hard it would be for him to finally let go. And since she’d never been the type who wore rose-colored glasses, she also knew Jackson Kinkaid was far from whole.
But he’d asked her to help him deal with his grief. And that had to count for something.
Alexa woke up the next morning, listening to the sounds of Kinkaid’s heart beating in the quiet. It was a sound she could get used to. Feeling his warm bare skin next to hers was addictive.
She ran a finger through the curly hairs of his chest. And when she saw his strong hands lying across his stomach, she remembered how gentle they had been when he spread the ashes of his wife and child in the ocean at dusk last night. The ebb and flow of the salt water at their bare feet had reflected the brilliant orange of the sunset. That memory would stay with her forever. He said his good-byes, as he spoke aloud to them, making her a part of his ceremony. And when it was over, she felt as if she’d lost her family, too.
They didn’t make love last night. Without saying a word, they held each other and listened to the waves edging the shore until it lulled them both to sleep.
By morning, she could have stayed in bed forever, but when her cell phone rang, she felt compelled to answer it. Being with Kinkaid felt like she’d dropped off the planet. That was a good thing. She’d never felt so relaxed, but when her phone rang, she had to answer it.
“Hello.”
“Alexa, it’s me.”
She recognized Jessie’s voice. She wasn’t used to having a partner as aloof as Jessie was. So for her to call out of the blue, it took Alexa by surprise.
“You still on your trip?” Alexa kept her voice low as she left the bedroom, trying not to wake Jackson. She slipped into a light robe and went outside to walk the beach.
“No, I’m heading back now. Harper says hello.”
Alexa grinned. “I knew he had something to do with your great escape. You get things taken care of? Is everything okay?”
With a strange silence on the phone, Alexa waited for Jessie to answer.
“Yeah, I guess. But I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Oh?”
“I made a decision, and it feels right.”
“What did you decide, Jess?”
Alexa braced herself. She had no idea what Jessie would say.
“I decided to move back to Chicago. Seth asked me to move in with him, and I’m gonna do it.”
“That’s . . . great, I think. You still gonna be my partner?”
“Yeah, sure. Of course.” Jessie cleared her throat. “Who’s gonna watch your ass if it’s not me?”