“She should be in a hospital,” Chaya whispered.
“We take her to a hospital and she’ll slice and dice every one of us when she comes out,” Ethan grunted. “We tried that once in Texas. The rescue of a little girl being held by cartel members there. She has a pretty little scar on her head where a bullet winged her, scared Duke to hell and back. He forced Tracker to call the paramedics. When she woke, she disappeared on all of us for months and swore she’d kill us the next time we put her in one of those germ labs, as she called them.”
“Can I stay with her for a while?” Chaya turned her gaze to Duke. “I know the others wanted you with them when they went over the information they’ve pulled in. Bliss and I could stay with her.”
She needed to stay with her. She needed, at least this one time, to comfort the baby that had been taken from her. To cry over her. To tell her how very much she loved her without the suspicion and pain that filled Angel’s gaze at any other time.
She saw the indecision in Duke’s face, his need to be with her as well.
“You can leave the door between the suite and the kitchen open. When she wakes”—she swallowed tightly—“she’ll be defensive again and won’t want me with her. I need this, Duke. And so does Bliss.”
His lips tightened, but he finally gave a brief nod of his head.
“She gets pissed, you take the blame,” he grunted. “She gets damned prickly over things that happen when Ethan has to knock her out.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, Chaya looked down at her daughter then back to Duke.
“Why knock her out? He could have just given her something for the pain.” As many scars as that child had she couldn’t be pain-phobic.
“Pain meds alone make her dopey, then she gets phobic,” Ethan stated, checking Angel’s blood pressure on the other arm. “She completely freaked out on me once, thought she was a kid again, trapped in that hotel. We had to hold her down and all of us swore we never would again.”
The memory was obviously one that neither Duke nor Ethan were comfortable with.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” Duke told her. “You need me or Ethan, send Bliss.”
Chaya nodded. When Natches released her to follow Duke and Ethan from the room, she sat on the side of the bed, touched her daughter’s still hand, and wiped away another tear.
God help her. How could she possibly fix this?
EIGHTEEN
Chaya glanced at the doorway as Duke entered the bedroom on the tail end of the ridiculous story she’d been telling Angel. One she used to make up for her daughter all those years ago.
Binny’s Adventures in BeeBee’s World.
“Binny was her teddy bear,” she told Duke, seeing his thoughtful expression. “God, she loved that damned bear. Dragged it everywhere. He would get so filthy.” She laughed softly. “I finally became desperate to keep from washing him so often. I sewed straps to his back and shoulders so she could carry him like a backpack. The damned thing was almost bigger than her.” She grinned. “Then she had to have a pocket in his tummy so she could store her treasures, as she called them.”
A heavy frown came over his face. Stepping to the dresser on the other side of the room and the canvas pack left there, he opened it and, a second later, drew out the worn, droopy-eared teddy bear her baby had so loved.
Chaya covered her lips with her fingers to hold back her sobs, aware of Bliss watching in interest from where she lay on the bed next to Angel.
Red straps, because red had been her favorite color, and a red gingham bandana tied around his neck were faded from time and obvious love.
Accepting the plump little bear with shaking hands, Chaya caressed its face, the bright black plastic eyes, a worn area next to his ear.
Lifting his finger to his lips to keep his secret, he gave Angel a look filled with such love Chaya knew that she’d never have to worry about him breaking her baby’s heart.
“I just wanted to check on her,” he said softly. “We’re still working in the kitchen.”
“She’s resting easy,” Chaya promised him. “The fever’s gone, her blood pressure’s normal, and her color looks normal. She’s going to be fine, Duke.”
He nodded. “Of course she will. She knows I won’t be happy with her otherwise.” Leaning to her he brushed his lips over her forehead, then placed his lips at her ear and whispered something to her.
Surprisingly, Angel’s fingers moved, just a little, as though searching. When Duke’s fingers covered them, she stilled and seemed to settle back into sleep.
Straightening, he lifted her fingers, brushed his lips against her palm, then placed her hand on the bed once again with no sign of self-consciousness or embarrassment.
“We’ve been through this before, ain’t we, baby?” he said softly, his expression gentler when he looked at Angel. “But we’re going to try to make sure it doesn’t happen again, huh?” It sounded as though the words were well worn, as though he’d said them many times before.
Holding the bear to her heart, Chaya had to force back the tears, the sobs. If she didn’t stop crying Bliss was going to start crying with her, and that Chaya couldn’t bear.
“Come get me if she wakes?” he asked, not for the first time.
Each time he checked on her he made the same request.
“You know I will,” Chaya promised him. “We’re just talking, aren’t we, little baby?” She let her fingers curl over Angel’s, her thumb brushing over the faint scars on her knuckles. “We had a little talk about those bar fights she gets into earlier. We don’t want Bliss to think it’s okay to do the same, right?”
The look Duke gave her was highly suspicious. Bliss was going to be a handful and they knew it.
“Hey, little baby.” Chaya leaned closer. “I have a friend that wanted a moment of your time.” Placing the bear against Angel’s hip she lifted her daughter’s hand to the bear’s legs and let it rest there. “Binny’s here, BeeBee. Aren’t you going to say hello?”
Duke waited a moment, then turned and left the bedroom. As the door to the suite was opened Chaya watched as Angel’s fingers curled against the bear’s fur, rubbed, then settled once again.
“If you had been able to tell me about her, I would know about Binny, Momma,” Bliss said then. “Then I could have told you how Angel showed me her teddy bear that her momma gave her, and how much she loved it.”
“Oh, Bliss,” she whispered, so many regrets lying inside her heart. “Every time I tried, all I could do was cry for what I had lost, and the sister taken from you. If I had known . . .”
“Tell me about her now, Mom.” Bliss rested her head on the pillow next to Angel’s.
Her girls. Her babies.
“Tell you about her.” She smiled, the memories rushing in. “Oh, Bliss, what a little imp she was. . . .”
• • •
Laughter.
It was light, floating just out of touch and filled with happiness.
“What did she do, Mom?” The teenager’s giggles made Angel want to laugh, too, but she wasn’t certain what was so funny.
“She propped her hands on her hips and got that look you get when you and your dad go head to head, and she informed me point-blank that three was not too young for school. She was plenty old enough and I just wanted to be mean and keep her home forever just because I loved her so much.”
The laughter whispered across her, the images that began to float through her mind warming her. Memories she hadn’t let herself think of in so long.
She had wanted to go to school so bad. She could already read. And she knew her letters and her numbers. That meant three was old enough. . . .
“Then she smiled and said that was just fine and threw her arms around my neck, kissed my cheek, and ran back to her toys. She never failed to surprise me with the things she would say or do.” Her mot
her sounded so soft, so loving.
“I think she still surprises you,” Bliss said softly. “She told me once when I asked her about her mother that she lost her momma. And she looked away. Talking about it hurt her. Like talking about her hurt you.”
How had Bliss known that? Angel wondered. She thought she’d been so very careful.
“How did you know she was your sister?” Chaya asked as Angel felt a feathery caress over the top of her head.
“The knife,” Bliss said softly. “She was cutting a pizza box with the knife and it turned just right. It was like the word on the blade just jumped out at me. It was the same knife in the pictures. I knew who she was right then.”
Angel drifted closer to the surface, desperate to be a part of the laughter and warmth she could feel around her now.
She liked this, though. They weren’t watching what they said; they were talking and including her. She liked that very much.
“Every time I saw her, I could feel her hiding from me, lying to me,” Chaya said then, her voice low, but so gentle. “When she tried to tell me who she was, I couldn’t speak. I thought it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be Beth, but I wanted her to be. I wanted it so bad I couldn’t speak for the need. And I was just too damned blind to see the truth.” That soft caress to her brow was light, but it sank inside her.
“She told me once that when she was really little, she heard her dad arguing on the phone with her mom. That her dad was really mad and wanted her mom to come pick her up, but she wouldn’t. She thinks you didn’t want her, Mom.” She was going to have to be careful what she told Bliss in the future. The girl told her mother everything, it seemed.
“That’s not what happened, Bliss. She was supposed to be in Canada with my sister. I had no idea she was in Iraq or even with Craig until one of my agents rushed to the hospital with the news.” Why did Chaya sound so sincere? So sincere that Angel couldn’t make herself disbelieve her. “My agent had to fight the guards to get to me that day in the hospital. When she told me Craig had my baby in that old hotel, I went crazy!” Her mother’s voice hitched. “I died with her that day. For years, Bliss, I was a ghost, running from myself, from your father, from the knowledge I’d failed her. . . .”
“Don’t cry, Momma. We have her now,” Bliss whispered. “She’s here with us and we’ll make her understand. She’ll know you tried. And she still loves you so much. And you just know Dad is going to adopt her. Before you know it, she’ll be fighting with him just like I do.”
“And how do you know that, sprite?” Love whispered through Chaya’s voice, warmed Angel, pulled her closer to wakefulness.
“She told me so,” Bliss revealed. “She said there were three people in the world that she loved above all things. A man on her team, a sister that didn’t know her, and her mother. Now who do you think she was talking about?”
Jeez Marie. What the hell? Couldn’t that girl keep a damned secret at all? Someone gag her already. . . .
“Shhh.” She tried to shush her sister before she completely spilled every word Angel had ever told her. “Shhh.”
For a moment, silence filled the room. She didn’t want that. She wanted them to talk, to remember again.
“Uh-oh.” Bliss giggled. “I’m in trouble now.”
Not in trouble, Angel thought. Never in trouble. But she might have to explain the sister rules to her baby sister.
“Angel, are you awake, little baby?” her momma whispered softly, her fingers against her forehead. “Wake up for Momma now.”
She didn’t want to wake up, not yet. She wanted to hold this to her for just a little while longer. Just for a bit, so she could pull the warmth around her, inside her.
She realized, though, the wounds that had once been so torn inside her soul weren’t as ragged anymore. She wasn’t as cold as she’d once been. Duke was there, she thought, content with that knowledge. And he’d slowly been drawing the edges of those wounds closer together.
“She was going to leave and never come back the day those guys tried to take me,” Bliss said, her voice soft, so soft Angel had to strain to hear her. “I could hear it when she came to tell me good-bye. That was why I was so angry with you that night.”
Angel knew she’d tried so hard to keep Bliss from knowing that. She hadn’t wanted her sister to miss her, just remember her; that was all.
“We’ll find a way to get her to stay.” Her mother sounded so fierce, so determined. “I don’t know why Craig brought her to Iraq, or why he murdered my sister, but I’ll find a way to make her believe me. I never would have left her with that bastard. . . . I never would have left Jenny with him either.” Her voice hitched again. “Oh, Bliss, I would have saved that baby if I could have. Both of them. I never would have let them be separated if I had known. . . .”
But hadn’t she known?
Angel had heard Craig on the phone. He told Angel and Jenny when he hung up that Chaya was a bitch. She thought no one wanted her, not even her momma.
Had he lied to her? Had he just wanted to hurt her? She had screamed at him to take her and Jenny to her momma, over and over again.
“Sweet baby,” Chaya whispered, brushing a kiss over her brow. “No matter what happens when you wake, take this with you. I always loved you. And I would have loved Jenny more than you know. You have always been my sweet little heart. . . .”
She drifted closer, forced her eyes open, and stared up at her momma’s face. Damp with tears, her brown eyes soft and filled with love.
“Momma . . .” She sighed, fighting to hold her eyes open, to hold this vision as long as possible.
“Hey, imp.” Her mother smiled gently, softly. “There you are. It’s about time you woke up.”
“So mad at you,” she told her mother, but the sound wasn’t angry, just sad.
“So mad at you, too,” her momma assured her with that loving fierceness she’d used when Angel was little. “Get better and we’ll yell at each other.”
Get better.
She had to get better. She had to get off her ass and make sure Bliss was safe.
“Bliss.” It was so hard to stay awake. Just for another minute. She had to stay awake another minute. Feel this feeling for just a little while longer.
“Bliss is fine, Angel,” Chaya promised, the gentleness in her voice, the sound only a mother has, filling it.
Angel gripped her mother’s fingers, fought to hold her eyes open just a little longer.
“Momma . . .” She stared up at Chaya; she had to tell her.
“I’m here, baby,” Chaya promised. “Just sleep. Everything’s fine.”
“I love you,” she whispered. “Always loved you.”
“I always loved you, Angel. Always . . .”
The words drifted away as she slipped into sleep once again. There were dreams, as there always were. That parade of figures from her childhood and bits and pieces of things she knew she needed to remember but never did.
She’d remember eventually, though; she could feel it. And when she did, the past would be over. . . .
• • •
Angel was still weak, shaky the next morning when Duke helped her to the kitchen, and more than a little put out. Hell, she was pissed off. She wouldn’t speak to Ethan for keeping her under for so long, and when he came at her with the syringe loaded with antibiotics, she threatened to skin him if it knocked her out again.
“Sure you feel up to this?” Duke asked her as Bliss placed a cup of coffee, heavy with sugar and cream, in front of her.
She thanked Bliss softly, then shot Duke a disgusted look.
“Stop babying me, Duke,” she muttered. “You’re embarrassing me already. I need to see the pictures you have.”
Dawg and Rowdy were both smirking, but for once Natches wasn’t.
“Sorry, badass,” Duke drawled, his lips quirking in a grin.
“I’ll just slink away in shame now.”
“Yeah, you do that,” she told him, shooting him a disgruntled look as she lifted the coffee and sipped at it gratefully, aware of Bliss standing behind her in case she needed anything else.
“Seth and Saul hit the area where the sniper was located above you and found the body. You got your man,” Natches said, and winked at her. “I knew you would.”
“Lucky is more like it,” she griped. “I’m not much of a shooter. Duke could tell you that. But I’m a damned good watcher.”
“Well, you were a damned good shooter when it counted,” he assured her. “The DNA came in and we have pictures of that one as well as information on the two dead men that hit the safe house.” He looked behind Angel. “Bliss, honey, you shouldn’t be here.”
Angel stared at Natches in surprise and disappointment. Bliss shouldn’t be there? It was her life that was being threatened; she needed to know what was going on. Didn’t she?
“Natches,” Chaya said softly behind him. “You can’t protect her from this at this point. We discussed it, remember?”
Natches’s lips tightened and he rubbed at the back of his neck in irritation, but didn’t say anything more on the subject.
“You’re sure you remember the men from the cabin?” he asked, pulling the photos he’d turned over in front of him. It had been months ago when Angel had tracked the young man Bliss was interested in to a secluded fishing hole several miles from the marina. She’d seen the cabin and the men outside it, but hadn’t paid much attention to them. The same cabin the August twins had learned the dead men had been staying at.
“I have a very good memory,” Angel answered him, a little stiffly.
“Duke said you saw a blue van parked behind the cabin. What exactly were you doing there?”
She glanced at Chaya as she stood behind him before returning her gaze to Natches.