Page 26 of Lethal Pursuit

A long pause followed before she could find her voice. “Thank you.” Saying the words made the cut in her lower lip bleed more, but she didn’t care.

“Anytime,querida.”

That endearment wasn’t fake, or said because he was desperate to make her hang on. He meant it. Knowing that flooded her cold body with a frisson of warmth.

He shifted against the bars once more, pressing harder into her touch as though he wanted more contact. Once again, he spoke in Spanish, the words slow and measured. “You’ve got to keep fighting, baby. I know it hurts and I know you’re scared, but you have to fight and get through this.”

She swallowed thickly. “My sister said that to me.”

“Your sister? What’s her name?”

“Pilar.” She fought the tide of memories rushing at her. “Shedied.”

“I’m sorry.”

She managed a nod, though of course he couldn’t see her. Her fingers relaxed their death grip on his uniform as she cradled her injured wrist against her body. It hurt to breathe. Taking shallow breaths didn’t seem to help. The pain in her ribs, face and wrist was worse than lingering burning in her abused feet.

Jackson. Focus on Jackson.

She stroked her hand over his chest, comforting herself with the feel of all that strength and vital heat beneath her exploring touch. He moved against her like a big cat, trying to touch her in return. There in the hushed darkness with a fellow prisoner listening in, it still felt intimate. His thoughtfulness meant so much. Jackson was safety and security, a solid link to reality.

“Tell me about her,” he murmured.

With his patient coaxing, she found herself telling him about her sister. Haltingly at first, then more easily, she gave him an abbreviated version of events in their upbringing and the horrific sexual abuse Pilar had withstood. Things she’d never told another living soul. That was how much she trusted Jackson. And a part of her she didn’t want to acknowledge was afraid she wasn’t going to make it out of here alive, so she needed to tell someone about her sister. She didn’t care if anyone else overheard.

“She took it so that I wouldn’t have to,” she managed hoarsely. The darkness helped. It made her feel less exposed, hid the guilt and torment that had to be all over her face. She hurt all over but nothing was going to ease it, and talking about her deepest secrets made her feel closer to him than she had to anyone else since Pili died, even Ace.

“Where did you go when you ran away?” he asked. His tone held no judgment, only concern.

“The streets.”

His silence said everything.

Maya changed the position of her right arm, wincing as the slight shift jarred her left wrist, balanced on her hip. She paused until the worst of the pain had faded before going on. “For a while I thought she’d make it. We didn’t have any money, and she started turningtricks at night so she could earn enough to get us an apartment.” Maya would never forget the horror she’d felt when she’d first found out. “She wouldn’t let me get a job, no matter how much I argued. Said I was too young and insisted I go to school every day. She was my hero.” Looking back, it was obvious now how much braver Pilar had been than her. To sacrifice so much for someone you loved, give up your pride, your body and your future? That was how much her sister had loved her.

“God, Maya...”

“Before long, she started drinking. To numb the pain, I think. Then came the drugs. I couldn’t do anything at that point. It was too late.” She drew a slow, shuddering breath, fighting the fiery splinters of pain that shot through her ribs as they expanded. Wincing, she continued. “My junior year, I came home one day and found her. She hanged herself in our bathroom.”

Jackson made a low, sad sound and was silent a beat before asking, “What did you do after she was gone?”

“I stayed there using the money she’d left me and finished school. My school counselor and social worker told me about the Air Force Academy and helped me get ready to apply in my senior year. Being accepted was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She’d needed to get the hell out of her old life, and the Air Force had seemed like the perfect way to do that. It gave her a bachelor’s degree in behavioral science, allowed her to travel and armed her with the skills to defend herself and others. “I made up my mind at Pili’s funeral that I would make a difference. Be in the FBI or CIA someday, make the world a safer place.” She’d dreamed of making it into one of those agencies, of hunting monsters and making a real difference in the world. And now she’d wound up here.

“So you became a kickass warrior,” he finished. “I’m glad you made it out of there.”

But not kickass enough.The bleak thought stole into her mind before she could block it. She owed it to her dead sister and to her fellow prisoners to keep fighting. If she gave up hope, she was as good as dead.

“Your sister would be proud of you.” He sounded convinced.

A sudden lump clogged her throat. She hoped Pili would beproud. If she somehow survived this and made it home in one piece, she’d make it into one of those government agencies or die trying.

“Tell me your favorite memory of Pilar,” he coaxed, dragging her back to the present.

She thought about it and, despite the pain in her face, smiled a little. “Mostly dumb things. Dancing around the kitchen together in our place after we ran away. The sad little Christmas tree she bought at a discount lot and dragged home. We decorated it with strings of popcorn and bits of fabric because it was all we had. That was the best Christmas ever,” she whispered tightly. Blowing out a shallow, painful breath, she swallowed back the tears that threatened. “What about you?”

“Christmases were always a big deal at our place. Big dinner, lots of laughs.” He sounded wistful, but she could hear the edge of a smile in his voice. “Mostly just my family. They’re my happiest memories.”

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