Disbelief sent her eyebrows soaring.
“But although I’ve developed a new appreciation for patience and restraint, I won’t tolerate my woman screwing around on me. Like I said, I need Captain Tate’s assistance, but you’re to stay away from him, Eva. I don’t want my son near that man, either, once we bring him here. Now that you’re back, I expect you to—”
“Back?” she cut in, her jaw falling open. “God, Hector! You’re completely delusional. I’m not back. I don’t love you anymore, I don’t want to be with you, and I’m not letting you anywhere near my son!”
A short silence ensued.
For the first time since this sick reunion, Eva caught a glimpse of the Hector she remembered. The cold, cruel Hector who killed anyone who got in his way, who trained children to murder and steal, who orchestrated a prison break rather than pay for his crimes.
As his rugged features twisted in rage and his black eyes glittered like burning coal, Eva saw the man she’d run away from, and fear trickled down her spine like water from a leaky tap.
“My son belongs with me,” he said, his voice so soft it sent a chill through her body.
“My son will never get anywhere near you.”
A second silence hung over the room. Hector took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps flexed, causing the tattoos on his skin to ripple ominously. His left arm boasted a tattoo of a red snake coiled around a machete—the ULF’s symbol—while the right arm was completely covered with text. The cause’s mission statement.
However, when Eva peered closer, she noticed a new line of text near his wrist.
RAFAEL.
Lord, he’d inked Rafe’s name and birth date on his skin.
“My son belongs with me.” Hector repeated himself in a lower, deadlier tone. “He needs to be groomed to lead the people once I’m no longer able to.”
Terror erupted in her belly.
“Hopefully by then, there will be no need for rebellion—the country will be what we desire it to be,” Hector went on, oblivious to her stunned expression, “but if not, my son will possess the skills necessary to lead. Now, I’d prefer if the three of us could be a family, the way it was intended, but if you choose to opt out of that arrangement, that’s your decision. But Rafael—”
“Don’t you dare say his name!”
“—will grow up with his father. Where is my son, Eva?”
A hysterical laugh lodged in her throat. “Somewhere you’ll never find him.”
Hector merely shrugged. “I’m afraid you’re wrong about that. I have no doubt that our son is safely hidden at the moment, but it’s not difficult to figure out where he’ll be after I kill you.”
Her heart lurched with horror.
“You would’ve named your parents as his guardian in the event of your death, isn’t that right?” Hector smiled. “So really, all I have to do is put a bullet in your head and then send someone to New York to fetch my boy. I met your parents, Eva. They’re not equipped to protect Rafael from the likes of me.”
Anger swirled through her like a tornado. “I won’t let you near him, Hector. I won’t let you corrupt him.”
“Corrupt him?” He sounded irritated. “That’s rather melodramatic, don’t you think?”
“What I think is that you’re poison,” she shot back. “You kill and destroy anything and anyone that stands in your way. Rafe is an innocent little boy—I refuse to let you—”
Pain stung her cheek as Hector backhanded her, stunning her into silence.
“You refuse?” he echoed. “You refuse? You have no say in this, Eva! That boy is mine! Not yours, but mine. Mine to do whatever I damn well please with.”
She tasted the coppery flavor of blood in her mouth and realized that he’d split her lip. Wiping the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, she stared at the father of her child with undisguised bitterness.
“You’re a different man, huh?” she mocked. “Because you seem like the same volatile, spoiled, angry man that I remember, a man who strikes out first and thinks about it later.”
Ragged breaths flew out of Hector’s chest, and she could see him struggling to maintain control. Both his hands were curled into fists, and she instinctively moved back, anticipating an attack.
To her surprise, it didn’t come.
“I think we both need some time to calm down,” he said wearily. He took a step to the door, then stopped, turning to face her with a glint of humor in his eyes. “I’ve missed you, Eva. Your fire, your strength and determination. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
She barked out a laugh. “Gee, thanks.”
“I want you to consider my offer. You, me, our son. A real family.”
Another laugh, this time loaded with incredulity. “You escaped from prison and you’re living in a bunker. What kind of life is that for a little boy?”
Annoyance crossed his expression but it faded quickly. “I mean it, Eva. I want to make this work.” He paused. “In fact, as a show of good faith, I’ll even do you a small kindness.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
He extended his hand. “Come here.”
She stayed rooted in place.
Hector’s mouth tightened. “Come. Here.”
With the taste of blood lingering on her tongue, she reluctantly approached him, but she didn’t take his hand, much to his obvious displeasure. Yet again, he displayed that newfound sense of restraint, because he didn’t react to the rejection.
She followed him out of the room, flinching when he rested his hand on her upper arm, and this time he did react.
“It would behoove you to be a little nicer to me, Eva. Keep being rude and maybe I’ll change my mind and take you back to your room.”
She ignored the threat. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
They turned the corner and followed the hallway until its end, pausing in front of a solid steel door.
“See if you can persuade him to my way of thinking,” Hector said as he stuck a metal key into the lock.
“What? Who are—”
Her words died as Hector pushed open the door and she found herself staring at Tate.
Chapter 16
Tate lifted his head as the door creaked open. Hector Cruz’s mocking face entered his line of vision, but it wasn’t the sight of the rebel leader that quickened his pulse. It was Eva, who apprehensively appeared at Cruz’s side.
He didn’t want to look at her, but his gaze refused to comply despite his brain’s command to look away. When he spotted the blood dripping down her chin, he had to forcibly stop himself from jumping to his feet and pulling her into his arms.
That he could still feel concern for her sent anger shooting up his chest, and he quickly armored himself with that rage, refusing to let Eva see that he still gave a damn about her.
Sitting on the floor, with his legs stretched in front of him and his wrists tied behind his back, Tate watched as Cruz stepped into the room, a semiautomatic dangling loosely from his grip.
“I thought you two might like to chat,” Cruz said, sounding both amused and annoyed. Those black eyes pierced Tate’s face. “Have you given any more thought to my proposition?”
Tate didn’t reply.
Cruz sighed. “I see you need more time to consider it. Fine. Maybe Eva will have more luck.” Now he gave her a pointed stare. “Knock on the door when you’re ready to return to your room. Javier is right outside.”
Cruz took a step to the door, then stopped and tossed a casual glance at the security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling. “Feel free to untie him, but don’t do anything foolish, mi amor. I’ll be watching you.” He smirked, then marched out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Once the lock clicked into place, Eva dashed across the room, her expression awash with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked in an urgent tone.
Tate shrugged.
She dropp
ed to her knees, leaning behind him to tug at the restraints binding his wrists. Her hair got in his face, tickling his nose and making him want to throw his fist into something. Why did she have to smell so good? And why the hell was he reacting to her nearness? Didn’t his traitorous body know that this woman was nothing but a liar?
Her breathing was shaky and irregular as she untied the knots, her fingers cold as they brushed his skin. When the ropes finally came free, Tate brought his arms back to his front and rubbed his chafed wrists.
Noticing that Eva was still half-draped over him, he shot her a hard look and said, “Thanks. You can move now.”
She didn’t say a word as she crawled away from him. She ended up stumbling to the other side of the small space and settling in a sitting position on the cold cement floor.
Although Tate didn’t make eye contact, he felt her gaze on him, felt the desperation radiating from her slender body.
“Tate. Look at me.”
He spared her a terse look.
“I’m sorry I lied. I should have told you that Hector was Rafe’s father, but I knew that if I did, you wouldn’t agree to help me.”
A groan lodged in his throat. He wanted to block out the sound of her voice, but clearly he was a masochist, because he found himself hanging on to her every word. He gave her no sign of it, though, maintaining a cool, indifferent mask even while fighting the insane urge to go to her and wrap his arms around her.
What the hell was the matter with him?
This woman had lied. She’d slept with Cruz, had a child with that monster. She didn’t deserve Tate’s sympathy or concern, and certainly not his forgiveness.
“Everything I told you about my past was true,” she said softly. “My reasons for coming to San Marquez, my support of the ULF. The only thing I lied about was Rafe’s true father. I...” Her voice cracked. “I was in love with Hector. Stupidly in love with him.”
The streak of jealousy that soared up his spine irked the hell out of him. He wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing that if he said something, Eva might see through his uninterested façade. But hell, why was he interested? He shouldn’t want to know the unholy details of that unholy union, and yet the need for details, the need to make sense of it all, gnawed at his gut like a hungry scavenger.
“It only took six months before he showed his true colors,” Eva went on, sounding ashamed. “He was cold, violent, had a hair-trigger temper. Things weren’t going well for the cause at that point, a lot of arrests and strife, no money coming in. Hector was furious about everything, and he took it out on me.”
“And yet you stayed with him,” Tate couldn’t help but snipe. He immediately regretted that show of emotion, but added, “What, was the violence a turn-on?”
Her blue eyes flooded with sadness. “No, it wasn’t a turn-on. I decided to leave him after the first time he hit me, but then I found out I was pregnant. I made the mistake of telling him, and he refused to let me go. I wasn’t kidding about being a prisoner—I had guards on me at all times. I couldn’t go anywhere alone, couldn’t talk to my parents without Hector being in the room. He hovered over me during the entire pregnancy, and eventually I played along. I made him think that I’d calmed down, that I wasn’t planning on leaving him once the baby was born.”
Tate raised his eyebrows. “And he believed it?”
“I’m very convincing,” she said dully.
Oh, he didn’t doubt that. Not one bit. Another rush of jealousy filled his gut at the notion that Eva might have used her sexuality to convince Cruz of her sincerity.
“I made him believe I was still in love with him and that I wanted us to be a family. He bought it, and eventually he stopped keeping such close tabs on me. After Rafe was born—” her smile was dry and bitter “—he was born here, actually, in this bunker. And after his birth, I convinced Hector to let me fly to New York so my parents could meet their grandson. He agreed, as long as I took a couple of guards with me.”
She uncrossed her legs, stretching them out in front of her, and Tate couldn’t help but remember how amazing those shapely legs felt wrapped around his waist as he moved inside her.
The memory brought a silent curse to his lips. Christ. What was wrong with him?
“The moment the plane touched down on American soil, I knew I was free. Hector tried to bring me back, but my parents helped me leave town, and, well, you know the rest of the story,” she finished. “Three years of running, and then I found my way to you.”
“And conned me into helping the mother of Hector’s child,” he muttered.
Her tone grew chilly. “Rafe is my child. It’s not my son’s fault that his father is a monster. I’ve spent three years trying to keep Rafe away from that man. Everything I’ve done has been to protect my little boy.”
Tate frowned. “You should have told me the truth.”
“Would you have teamed up with me if you knew?”
“No.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t tell you,” she said bluntly. “Because the only way to keep Rafe safe is to remove Hector from his life, and I needed you in order for that to happen.”
Tate snorted, gesturing around the cramped, windowless room. “How’d that turn out for you, Eva?” Now he chuckled. “You know, you would have had a better shot of me killing Hector if you’d stayed behind like I wanted you to. I would’ve killed the SOB in a heartbeat, instead of hesitating because I was too damn shocked to hear that he’s your lover.”
“Was,” she corrected, her voice stiff. “The only thing I feel for that man now is loathing and disgust.”
“Oh, I know all about disgust, sweetheart. I’m feeling quite a bit of it right now.”
She flinched as if he’d struck her. “That’s not fair.”
“You really wanna talk about fair when we’re locked up in a room by the father of your kid?”
Even from six feet away, he could see her pulse vibrating in her delicate throat. Panic moved over her face as she studied their surroundings, and he saw exactly what she was seeing—no furniture, no windows, no weapons. A locked door with a guard behind it, and a slim-to-none chance of escape, leaning closer to none.
You had your shot and you didn’t take it.
The reminder only deepened his foul mood. Yeah, he’d had his chance to kill Cruz, hadn’t he, but he’d let the bastard blindside him with that baby-daddy bullcrap. Now he had to pay the price for that asinine move.
The silence dragged as each of them sat in their respective corners. Tate kept his gaze on his feet, but he felt Eva watching him intently. Sure enough, when he tipped his head up, he noticed her astute blue eyes focused on him.
“What?” he muttered.
“Before he brought me in here...” She visibly swallowed. “He told me he doesn’t plan on killing you. He said the two of you share a common goal. What did he mean by that?”
As much as he wanted to be juvenile about this and give her the silent treatment, Tate couldn’t fight the need to talk this entire baffling development through. He still couldn’t believe everything Cruz had told him, and now that he was reminded of it, the perplexing details began flashing through his head again.
Torn between making sense of it and shutting out a woman he clearly couldn’t trust, he drummed his fingertips on the cement floor, feeling Eva’s curious eyes on him.
“Tate?” she said quietly.
He released a long breath. “Cruz claims the villagers in Corazón were dead before the rebels even got there.”
She looked dubious. “That sounds suspect. And how did they supposedly die?”
“From the virus that Richard Harrison tested on them.”
Her breath hitched. “What?”
“Project Aries,” Tate said. “Cruz says Harrison’s lab manufactured a biological weapon that was being tested in remote villages throughout the country.”
“And how on earth does Hector know this?” she demanded, sounding skeptical.
“That’s what Harrison s
upposedly told him before Cruz killed the guy. It was all the information Cruz managed to get—he claims to have no idea who gave the green light for Harrison’s project, or if either of our governments is even aware of it. All he knows is that when he and his men showed up at the village, everyone was already dead.”
“So why did they burn the bodies?”
“To control the infection,” he said grimly. “They weren’t sure if the virus was contagious.”
“Hector isn’t a doctor,” Eva muttered. “How does he know those people were even infected with something?”
“He says the only visible symptoms were nosebleeds, and that it looked like some of the villagers had foamed at the mouth. But he was pretty much convinced of foul play when he discovered Harrison and his staff examining the bodies and taking notes.”
Eva’s blue eyes blazed. “Harrison was still in the village, cataloging the dead bodies?”
“According to Cruz, yes. Supposedly the village was a test site for this disease.”
Eva went quiet for a moment. “Then it must have been approved by the American government,” she said steadfastly. “And now they’re trying to cover up what happened in the village. That’s why they’re trying to kill you, Tate.”
“Then why send my team to begin with?” he pointed out. “Why put us in the position to discover what Harrison was up to?”
She shrugged. “They needed Harrison. Hector took him hostage, right?”
“He denies that. Says that he and his men interrogated Harrison for six hours, seven hours tops, before my unit showed up. Which makes no sense,” Tate said in frustration, “because we were told that Harrison had already been a captive for twenty-four hours at that point.”
“I think it’s safe to assume that everything you were told was a lie,” she replied. “And it doesn’t matter what the details are. Maybe Hector is lying and he was holding the doctor hostage and trying to negotiate with the U.S., or maybe Harrison managed to get an SOS out before the rebels swarmed the village. Maybe he contacted someone in the government and asked to be extracted. Like I said, doesn’t matter.”