Domina flinches.
Fuck. Be sensitive, asshole.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “But you will stay with me?”
I touch my lips to hers. “Always. I love you, Domina. If you aren’t sure about anything else, be sure of one thing. You’re it for me. For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
* * *
Before we leftmy apartment this morning, I packed a bag for both of us, and Domina lets me help her into a pair of yoga pants and a crimson t-shirt. Her ankle is still swollen, her wrists rubbed raw, and she stood on that fucking window ledge for at least two hours. So I keep my arm around her waist to steady her until we reach one of the sofas in the suite’s main room.
She tenses when she sees Sampson. SEALs—even retired ones—have this look about them. One that says they could make you disappear without a trace and not even break a sweat. But he stands the moment we exit our bedroom, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Domina. I’m West. I’ve worked with Trevor a time or two.” His slight Southern twang helps put her at ease—or maybe that has more to do with the dozen takeaway containers on the large, circular coffee table and the scent of Pad Thai.
She nods, but presses closer to me.
“West landed just before Pinzon let me talk to you. He went directly to Muñoz’s house. We knew Sergio was at the church, but Eduardo…we had to neutralize him at the same time as everyone else.”
“Neutralize?” Domina’s voice cracks, and I rub circles over her back.
“He’s alive,” West says. “Killing him would have been too easy. And turned him into a martyr. Panama’s new president can put him on trial and show the people who theycouldhave elected. Cortez will be a hero, and Muñoz won’t breathe free air for the rest of his natural life.
Over plates of pad thai, bowls of tom yum soup, and double helpings of mango sticky rice, the four of us explain how we managed to keep Cortez alive long enough to get to her.
“Dax—he’s Trev’s boss—spent half the night working his contacts. He and Ryker were Special Forces, so he knowseveryone.Including Agent Ricardo Balboa of the Institutional Protection Service.”
Austin cracks the seal on a bottle of Perrier and passes it to Domina. “Balboa joined Cortez’s detail before the press conference at the hotel. He saw Pinzon and Sergio take you. Figured out Muñoz was behind it all. We couldn’t get in touch with Cortez directly because Balboa insisted he go completely dark until the vote. But Dax was able to get a message through.“
“And…how did you find me?” she asks.
I shake my head, still in awe of the men and women who put everything on the line for us. “Zephyr and Royce—he used to work with Cam, West’s wife—developed a way to speed up mobile phone traces. We were hoping it would help us find you last night, but Sergio only called me when he was driving around the city and he had some high-level tech on his side. Pinzon—the dumbass—decided to show off and let us see everything around you.
Domina shrinks back against the cushions, cradling the green glass bottle to her chest. “I don’t know where I was before the apartment. Except…in a basement.”
After a quick glance at me, asking for approval, I think, West clears his throat. “You were in a storage closet at Muñoz’s house. We found your jacket and the broken zip ties.”
“Sergio and Pinzon blindfolded me,” she whispers. The bottle of water shakes in her grip. I need her to tell meeverythingshe went through, but I can’t ask. Not yet.
“They’re gone,” Austin says as I steady her hand. “You were pretty out of it when I got to you, but Trev shot the guy behind you, and I took out Pinzon and Chuck Thomas, a former CIA field officer.”
“And Sergio?” she asks.
West snorts. “From what Ry said, Sergio sweet-talked a nurse and got out of his restraints, but then he tackled one of the National Police officers guarding his hospital room.”
“So he’s…” Domina looks from me to West and back again.
The former SEAL leans forward, elbows on his knees. His voice gentles, but the look in his eyes is deadly serious. “Three officers tried to get him to listen to reason before they opened fire. Sergio knew he was going to prison. Probably knew it wouldn’t be one of the good ones. He made his choice.”
Austin’s tablet beeps, and he taps the screen. “It’s Zephyr.”
“Put her on speaker,” I say. As fragile as Domina’s control is right now, I won’t keep secrets from her. She needs to know everything.
“Got an update on that CIA piece of shit, Balin,” Zephyr says, then swears under her breath. “Shit. Domina. Are you okay?”
“Y-yes?” She looks to me, and I drape my arm around her shoulders. “What…CIA piece of shit? The man from the apartment?”
“No, baby. God, there’s so much I still need to tell you. Remember when we talked to Cortez at your office? And he knew everything about me?” After she nods, I blow out a breath. “He’d talked to my former SSO. Senior service officer. The guy I reported to for my last six years in Venezuela.”
