Page 80 of Always Been Mine

“He’s with me.”

“Okay.”

He turned off the hallway lights and headed for the bathroom. There were slight cuts on his fists, but not bad. The purpling skin promised bruising and swelling tomorrow. He should ice it, but he didn’t want to be away from Beatrice any longer.

He crawled into bed beside her. She was on her side, facing away from him. He tagged her around the waist and pulled her into his arms. He took a deep breath, taking in the clean floral scent of her hair. The warm softness of her body melted away the remaining tension in his body.

Gabe savored the feeling of having her back in his arms. He didn’t, for a minute, want to miss any moment of this in slumber. Even as he struggled to remain awake, his consciousness eventually slipped away until finally, he eased into a dreamless sleep.

14

Frank Wilkes staredat the manifest of the incoming cargo ship from Colombia via Jamaica that would be docking in Virginia Beach next week. The situation was getting complicated. Benjamin Porter was too close on his tail and Wilkes had no idea who the admiral was working with, only that an incursion group had found the old laboratories in Colombia and was aware of the virus. Wilkes thought of keeping his daughter hostage in exchange for the man Porter had in custody—the medical examiner who did the autopsy cover-ups for Wilkes. But since the ME had no idea who he was working for anyway, he was in no way a problem. Besides, Wilkes had been too late to bargain for his man back because the fool had revealed the existence of the ST-Vyl virus.

Zach Jamison assured him it was better to keep Beatrice Porter alive since Zach had easy access to her anyway. The admiral’s daughter was too precious to kill immediately, and it was better to keep them off-kilter with what other nefarious plans they had planned for her.

His phone buzzed.

“Wilkes.”

“It’s Zach. I have the updated rotation on customs inspection.We’re clear with our upcoming shipment next week. Our man inside Customs and Border protection is on duty.”

“Excellent.”

The line went dead. Short, quick communication had become the norm. The benefit of having Zach Jamison working with a senator on the Homeland Security Senate committee was easy access to border security strategies. All Wilkes and his crew had to do was work around those strategies. There was also the added bonus of keeping tabs on the political maneuverings in Colombia, which was beneficial for Wilkes who was navigating the treacherous slopes with his business partners—drug traffickers and dirty businessmen. However, sharing this intel with Fuego sweetened the deal he had with the Latino group. The derailment of the peace talks between the Colombian government and the other players in the armed conflict ensured an uninterrupted influx of cocaine into the country. So in a way, Wilkes and Fuego shared the same agenda.

For now.

Beatrice thankedher lucky stars that coffee was allowed while she was on painkillers and antibiotics. Gabe had enough to deal with besides adding a caffeine-deprived banshee, which she tended to turn into when she didn’t get her fix in the mornings. The aroma wasn’t the Colombian Excelso coffee beans she was used to. She took a sip, hoping it would taste decent. Her tongue balked at the flavor and she ran to the sink, spewing out the coffee.

“What? What?” Gabe’s alarmed voice came from the doorway. He had let Rhino outside to take care of early morning business.

“What kind of coffee was that?” Beatrice screeched.

Gabe scowled at her and pointed to a supermarket brandon the countertop. “That’s all they had at the convenience store. I can go pick up the ones you like later.”

“Don’t bother,” she snapped. “Doug can pick them up for me.” She grabbed her phone to call her assistant, but Gabe’s hand closed over hers as he gently, but firmly, pulled her close.

“Stop being a brat about it. It’s just one morning—”

“You don’t understand!” It irked Beatrice that some people didn’t grasp the concept of good coffee.

“I’m beginning to understand,” Gabe replied levelly. “I understand now that you’re picky about your coffee. I guess I didn’t realize that before because you’re always stocked up with that shit wherever we are.”

“I can’t drink this.” She dumped the offending beverage in the sink and went to the refrigerator, praying there was soda. Sighting a chilled caffeinated cola, she immediately started feeling better.

“Soda in the morning?” Gabe frowned at her.

“Would you rather I be a bitch all morning?”

“Beatrice—”

“I’m high-maintenance, Gabe,” she cut in. Now was a good time to show him what he was signing up for. “Best you know now. I have creature comforts. I want things a certain way; I want my coffee a certain way—”

“Stop,” Gabe said softly, leaning in and brushing his lips against hers. “You’re doing it again, trying to scare me off.”

“I’m not. I’m just a bitch when un-caffeinated.”

“Maybe you should drink less of that shit. Not a good idea to be addicted. What if there’s a shortage?”

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