Untamed (Eternal Brethren Military Romantic Suspense Book 4) Page 14

  “I understand.”

  “All right. Let’s go in.”

  The doctor and nurse had vanished, leaving them alone with Becca. Wrangler felt Jamie’s back stiffen before he moved to the edge of the bed.

  “Mom?” When she didn’t respond, he looked at Wrangler, who lifted his chin.

  “Keep talking, son. I’m pretty certain she can hear you, even if she doesn’t respond.”

  “Mom, it’s me. Jamie.” Reaching over the metal rails, he touched her arm. “I’m here with Dad.”

  Wrangler stilled, struggling to believe what he’d heard. He wondered if his son realized what he’d said.

  “He says you can hear me even if you can’t talk right now.” Jamie stroked her arm, a slight quiver in his voice. “I stayed at Dad’s house last night. Wrath and Cara stayed with me ‘cause he didn’t want to leave you. There’s this big bedroom at Dad’s. He said it’s mine and I can put up posters and stuff.” Jamie glanced up at Wrangler, his lower lip trembling, tears building in his eyes. “Right?”

  “Whatever you want to do, son.”

  “Can I paint it, too?”

  “We can do it together.”

  A small grin appeared on Jamie’s face. “Really?”

  “Sure. But I get to approve the color.”

  “Black?”

  Shaking his head, Wrangler chuckled. “Not a chance.”

  “Jamie?”

  Their gazes shot to Becca, Jamie edging closer, Wrangler leaning over him.

  “Mom?”

  “I…water,” she rasped out, her swollen eyes opening to slits.

  Picking up the cup, Wrangler adjusted the straw, supporting her head with his other hand. “Here’s your water, Bec.” He touched the straw to her lips, prompting her to drink. “Come on, sweetheart. Drink for me.”

  Eyes fluttering, she stared up at him. Not attempting to speak, Becca let him slip the straw between her lips.

  “Just a little, sweetheart.” Wrangler ignored the way her eyes flashed at the endearment. Pulling the straw from her lips, he swiped away moisture from her chin with his thumb. “More?”

  Shaking her head, Becca met his intense gaze. She didn’t thank him or speak again until spotting her son beside him.

  “Jamie…”

  Wrangler stepped back, allowing him to get closer.

  “I’m here, Mom. Can you see me?”

  She tried to reach for him, stopping at the pressure of the IV in her hand.

  “Don’t move, Bec. Maybe the nurse can adjust it when she returns.”

  “Dad didn’t leave last night, Mom. Wrath and Cara stayed with me at his house. I have my own bathroom there. It’s awesome.”

  Wrangler watched her eyes flicker at Jamie’s new term for him. She might not like it, but a flash of unanticipated warmth sliced through him. He doubted Becca would ever understand how much Jamie’s acceptance meant to him.

  The bandages almost concealed her tight smile. Almost. “Sounds wonderful.”

  “I’m going to ride a horse when you get out of the hospital.”

  “I see.” Becca’s voice faded as her strength declined.

  “Come on, buddy. Your mom needs to rest.”

  “Absolutely right.” A tall, well-muscled nurse entered, his gaze going straight to the monitors. Satisfied, he settled his attention on Jamie. “You must be the son I heard about from Doctor Walker.”

  Nose scrunching, Jamie shot a confused look at Wrangler.

  “Tessa is Doctor Walker.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

  “And you must be the father.”

  “Wrangler,” he said, triggering an unfettered grin from the nurse.

  “Got to love those biker names. I’m Gavin Dees. I’ve got a Harley myself. Bought it not long after leaving the Army.” Gavin began checking Becca’s vital signs.

  “Army, huh? Where were you stationed?”

  Lifting a brow, Gavin cocked his head. “My team was sent all over the place.”

  “Special Forces?” Wrangler asked.

  “Yep. Sniper and medic. Loved both. Go figure.”

  Throwing his head back, Wrangler laughed. “I’d never argue with that combination. Thanks for your service, man.”

  “Right back at you,” Gavin said, concentrating on Becca.

  Wrangler wasn’t sure how to respond. Few people knew members of the Brethren had military backgrounds.

  Seeing the confused look on Wrangler’s face, he chuckled. “Hard to miss. I’ve met Doctor Walker’s husband, Rock, and a man named Wrath. You’ve all got that look about you.” Stepping back, Gavin smiled down at Jamie. “Your mom’s doing great, but she does need to rest.”

  “He’s right, bud. We can grab your skateboard and head to the park, then go to the clubhouse for a while. I’ll bring you back after lunch.”

  “All right. But you promise we’ll come back after lunch?”

  “You’ve got my word, son.”

  Jamie touched Becca’s hand, staring at the tube and needle, then at her face. “I think she’s already asleep.”

  “You’d be right,” Gavin said. “Get on out of here and let me finish my work.”

  They stopped in the waiting room where Wrath and Rock waited, breaking up what had been a quiet conversation between the two.

  “I’m getting Jamie out of here for a while. Thought we’d go to the skate park, then the clubhouse. There’s some stuff I need to check out.”

  “We’re on our way there now.” Rock patted the pocket where he’d placed the phone. “Thought I’d have Raider go through the voicemail after Wrath and I check out the contacts. My gut tells me we’re going to find some worthwhile intel on our good friend Lew.”

  Wrangler pulled out of the lot, his mind on Jamie, the phone, Becca, and the man who’d attacked her. He found it hard to keep his anger at bay when he thought of what she’d have to go through for a full recovery. Whether Becca agreed to it or not, Wrangler would be right beside her every step of the long journey.

  Glancing at Jamie, he couldn’t help noticing his son sat ramrod straight, staring at the road ahead. “Are you doing okay, son?”

  “Why would someone hurt my mom?”

  Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, Wrangler shook his head. “There’s no reason for anyone to hurt your mom, or any woman. We’re going to find the man who did this, and I promise, he’ll never hurt anybody else.”

  Jamie’s head whipped toward Wrangler at the hard intensity in his voice. “Good. I want to help.”

  “Not a chance, bud. This is a job for your Uncle Ethan and his men.” Wrangler would never admit the identity of the men. His son didn’t need to know the type of work his father, uncle, and their friends conducted, what they had to do to keep the country safe.

  “Do you love my mom?”

  To his credit, Jamie didn’t look away at Wrangler’s surprised expression.

  “Yes. I’ve always loved her. I’ll always love her.”

  “Mom loves you, too.”

  “I think you might be mistaken about that.”

  Jamie shook his head. “I’m not. I’ve heard Mom tell Grandma she still loves you.”

  Wrangler felt certain Jamie was wrong. During their few hours together, he hadn’t noticed a shred of love on Becca’s face or in her voice. He’d also never detected the anticipated hate.

  He wanted a second chance, knowing it would take a miracle to convince her to give it to him. In Wrangler’s heart, he knew he was just the man to make that miracle happen.

  No matter her hesitancy or how long it took, he would win Becca back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eternal Brethren Clubhouse

  “How about you and I shoot some pool while your dad and the prez meet?” Banner, one of the newest members, guided Jamie away from the hallway leading to Wrath’s office.

  “Who’s the prez?”

  “Your Uncle Wrath.”

  Jamie’s face lit up. “Yeah, he is my uncle. He’s the presid
ent?”

  “Of our club. Ghost is our vice president, and Rock is the sergeant-at-arms.”

  “What’s my dad?”

  Banner stopped, handing Jamie a cue stick. “Wrangler is one of the best men I’ve had the privilege to know. You’re lucky he’s your dad.”

  Jamie busied himself racking the balls, taking a few quick glances toward the hall where Wrangler had disappeared with Wrath, Rock, and Ghost.

  “Will they be busy for long?”

  Chalking his stick, Banner leaned against the table. “Long enough for me to whip you at a few rounds of pool.”

  Raider passed folders to each of the men around the table, opening his. “Lewis Helms. Forty-eight. Born in New Jersey. Rap sheet started in the teens and continued into his late twenties. Either he’s cleaned up his act or learned how to disguise his crimes. Lives in Scottsdale. I couldn’t find a place of employment, but he’s known to associate with Victor Ellison, a high-powered attorney in Phoenix.” Raider stopped, looking down the table to Wrangler. “He’s Becca’s last known boyfriend.”

  Other than his jaw clenching and the hard edge to his voice, he showed no reaction. “Go on.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Victor and Becca were an item for long. They met at a fundraiser. A few months later, Becca gave her notice, packed everything, and moved to Liberty Lake.” Raider grabbed a piece of paper, holding it up. “The bad news is Victor searched and found her. My guess is this was not an amicable, we can still be friends break.”

  Wrangler scanned the paper, then paged through the rest of the data Raider collected. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

  He waggled his brows. “A guy’s gotta have a few secrets.” Raider picked up another piece of paper. “Only Wrath has seen the gold in this one.”

  Opening his copy, Wrath stared down at it before looking up. “If what Raider has uncovered is accurate, we’ve got a major problem. I’ve already contacted Jif, since he’s the one who first warned us of a coming shitstorm.”

  “I thought he was just blowing smoke up our asses.”

  “Not a chance, Tracker. He’s a seasoned, undercover DEA agent. If Burn gets wind of him anywhere near us, he’ll be two feet under in a desert that will bake his bones in hours. The fact he came to our clubhouse indicated how serious he’s taking the intel.” Wrath held up the file. “What’s in here corresponds with what Jif reported. Take a look and pass it on. We’ve got a lot to discuss after you’ve read the file. None of which leaves this room.”

  Sitting back, Wrangler tapped his fingers on the table, his thoughts on Becca. And Ellison. Unless she’d changed drastically, he knew she didn’t do hook-ups, which meant Victor had meant something to her. Yet she’d run. Not just broken it off, but hightailed it away from her job, home, and the man.

  “Why?”

  They all turned their heads to look at Wrangler.

  “Why’d Becca run? She had a well-paying job, decent apartment, a few friends. People don’t just give it all up on a whim to get away.”

  Rock whistled, passing the folder down the table to Wrangler. “Read this. It’s pretty obvious Becca was scared.”

  Opening the file, Wrangler reviewed the contents, his heart racing. “Sonofabitch. She must’ve found out what Ellison was doing.”

  “And ran,” Rock added.

  “Do any of these names mean something to you, Wrath?” Wrangler asked.

  “Pass it on. We’ll go deep after everyone’s read it.”

  Except for the rustling of papers, tapping of fingers, and the occasional string of curses, the room fell silent. Then Ghost slid the file to Tracker, the last to read the contents.

  Reading each page, he didn’t see anything that surprised him. Hitting the middle of the last sheet, his breath caught, chest seizing. “What the hell?” He looked at Wrath, then back at the contents.

  “As you can guess, we’re going to need a good amount of your help.”

  Closing the file, he shoved it at Wrath. “No.”

  Those lounging in chairs straightened, the mood in the room taking a significant turn.

  “Do you want to repeat that, Lieutenant?”

  “Oh shit,” Rock muttered, as the others barely kept their eyes from bugging out. Mentioning ranks was strictly forbidden. The only people excluded were Wrath and Admiral Grayson.

  Squaring his shoulders, Tracker met Wrath’s glare. “No, sir. Whatever you’re expecting, I’m not the man for this mission.”

  “Can one of you tell us what the fuck is going on?” Ghost asked.

  “We’ll discuss this later, Lieutenant.”

  Wrath nodded at Raider, who projected images onto a wall. “This is Armando Quintero. CEO of Grupo Quintero, one of the largest import and export companies in Mexico. His friends include President Valdes, many members of the upper and lower legislative chamber, judges, plus heads of state and local governments. He is also the leader of the Quintero Cartel, purported to be the most vicious of the lot.”

  Standing, Wrath stepped to the wall, opening a whiteboard with several columns. “Our government has been trying to shut them down for years. The amount of resources, both monetary and human, has been astronomical, with little success.” He looked at one man at the table. “Tracker worked as part of a task force to try and find evidence on Quintero. He might tell you it was a bust. You won’t find that description in the DEA files.”

  Hands fisting in his lap, Tracker worked to control the rage coursing through him. Wrath knew what happened, how it had torn up his life and ruined a future with the woman he’d planned to marry.

  “What Tracker and the task force unearthed brought down several of Quintero’s top men and shed light on the entire organization. Instead of being focused on drugs only, Quintero is the leader of a sophisticated crime syndicate known for its ruthless dealings and tight structure. Tracker, since you’re the only man in this room to meet him, I’d like you to share your thoughts on Armando Quintero.”

  Glaring at Wrath, he stood, slamming both fists on the table. “This is bullshit.”

  “This is your job. This is exactly what you signed up for when you joined the SEALs and accepted a transfer into Eternal Brethren.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you of all people should understand that.”

  Wrath let out a long breath and lowered his voice. “I’m not asking you to talk about what happened with Juliana, Nate. I’d never ask that of you. What we need are your thoughts on Armando. His patterns, the way his mind works, how he might respond to Burn and Ellison setting him up to be taken over by their new partner.”

  Sitting down, Wrath rested his arms on the table. “We would’ve been tasked with this at some point. The urgency now is because one of ours may be caught in the middle and we can’t let that happen.”

  “Becca…” Wrangler shook his head in denial. “She’s had no part in what any of those men are doing.”

  Wrath turned toward his brother. “Somehow, she’s gotten caught up in this mess. I don’t know how, but Ellison and his men believe she discovered something and ran because of it. The attack was a warning. We don’t know how many more she’ll get before they kill her.”

  Wrangler slapped the table. “None! She isn’t going to be the victim one more time. The minute the doctor gives the okay, I’m taking her to my place. If needed, I’ll hire men to watch her.”

  “Fuck that,” Ghost said. “We’ll protect her and get the guy who attacked her. She and Jamie are family, Wrangler.”

  “Hell yeah.” Rock clasped a hand on Wrangler’s shoulder.

  “All right. Now it’s time for Tracker to give up what he knows about Quintero.” Wrath sat back, turning his focus to Tracker.

  Scrubbing both hands down his face, he steeled himself for what he knew would be a long night. They always were when thinking about the Quintero family. Especially Juliana. Wrath said he didn’t want to revisit the past or the way he’d screwed it all up, and Tracker believed him.
The problem was he’d never found a way to separate Juliana Stanifer Quintero from her adopted father.

  “Armando Fonseca Quintero is charming, handsome, the ultimate host, and speaks multiple languages, which helps in both his legitimate and illegal dealings. He has a masters and law degree from Stanford, and is one of the most brilliant men I’ve ever met.

  “A key to his success is Quintero’s ability to get along with both presidents and peasants, turning his nose up at no one. As ruthless as he is, I’ve yet to meet anyone who doesn’t admire and like him. Keep in mind that doesn’t include his enemies. The two biggest ones are the Carrillo Cartel and San Miguel Cartel, both with close similarities to the infamous organized crime families.

  “Most of Quintero’s soldiers are ex-military from Mexico, Germany, Columbia, and yes, the good ol’ US of A. Well trained and paid more than most mercenaries. He provides separate living quarters, plenty of food, alcohol, and women. Another reason the people he hires come to respect and love him. Armando is a master manipulator.”

  Reaching out, he snagged a bottle of water from the middle of the table, swallowing several large gulps. “If you cross him, your demise won’t be fast or painless. Loyal employees are awarded pensions and medical care for life. He is the true definition of a Mexican Godfather. It’s true he deals in imports and exports. Unfortunately, the products are mainly drugs and human beings. If he deals in kidnapping, it’s not for money, per say, but to set the groundwork for the takeover of a rival cartel. If Raider’s data is correct, and it always is, Quintero will react swiftly with no mercy to anyone trying to steal what’s his. In other words, if Burn and Ellison plan to screw him, they’re already dead men. As is their supposed new partner.”

  “What about his patterns?” Wrath asked. “Does he travel with guards?”

  “Always. At least four, and he alternates his routes between his office and home. His schedule changes every day. Nothing is routine.”

  The door opened. Fargo walked in, taking an empty chair. “Sorry, Prez. We were finishing up a job at the shop. What did I miss?”

  “A lot. I’ll fill you in later.”