Paula’s small mouth curved into a half smile and she shook her head. “Like I said, it’s never really stopped. He always found us. No matter how far away we moved or where we went, he’d show up. My mom would report it, but no one ever saw him so nothing could be done. I’ve spent my entire life looking over my shoulder, holding my breath, waiting for him to show up. To ruin the life I’d built by tormenting me. He’s smart, and we both know if he ever touched me again I’d call the police in a heartbeat. But he likes to get inside my head, to remind me any way he can of the past.”
She glanced up at Jose and caught his hand as he walked behind her. “And then I met Jose. He’s the first person to make me feel safe, protected. We decided to move to Mexico a few years ago and get a fresh start. I’ll never forget what Pete did to me, but at least I can sleep at night knowing he’ll never find me again.”
A weight dropped in Mickey’s stomach. A beat of silence passed and she hated herself for what she was about to do, for shattering Paula’s illusion of safety. “Um, do you know he’s been spending time in Playa Del Carmen?”
Paula’s head whipped around to Jose, but his wide eyes searched Mickey’s. His brow furrowed and Paula’s muffled sobs tore Mickey’s heart in two. “How do you know? Where is he? I’ll kill him if he comes near her.” A flash of hate sparked in his eyes, and Mickey believed him. Hell, she’d help him.
A heaviness fell over Mickey the minute she walked out of Paula’s house. She climbed into the waiting cab and sunk into the tough material of the worn seat. She pressed a hand to her stomach to quell the bile from sloshing around. She’d brought Pete into Becca’s life, and there was no telling what horrors awaited her if Mickey couldn’t find her.
Her mind spun in a million different directions, leaving her dizzy. She leaned her head against the seat and her gaze focused on the palm trees flitting past her window as the cab sped along toward her hotel. The constant flash of green leaves and brown trunks only made her dizziness worse.
How could she not have seen who Pete really was? How had she let his easy smile and quick wit slip through her defenses? My God, she’d let him in her bed. The bile moved from her stomach and up her throat. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep it from escaping. The last thing she needed was for her cab driver to toss her out for making a mess.
Pressure built in her chest and tears built in her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried as hard as she could to block it all out. To block out the pain, and the guilt, and the utter revulsion of what she’d done. Instead, she closed her eyes and she pictured Becca. If they couldn’t find her goddaughter, Mickey would never be able to forgive herself.
18
Anger simmered through his veins as he sat on the stool at the small hotel bar. His day had gone from bad to worse. First his conversation with Harper, then he’d landed in Cancun to find out Eric still hadn’t found anything more about Pete, and then there was the call he’d had twenty minutes ago. That call was the one that had set his blood to boil.
He leaned against the wall at the end of the bar and trained his eyes on the open doorway leading into the lobby. Music and laughter spilled in from the street, only increasing his irritation. The boutique hotel he’d booked boasted a great beachfront location right off the busy pedestrian street in Playa Del Carmen, but offered little else in terms of luxuries. Including a good bartender. The young Mexican was too busy flirting with tipsy tourists to worry about refilling his beer.
Just as well.
He sighed and pushed his empty glass across the slick bar. Crossing his arms, he drummed his fingers against his bicep as he waited. As the time ticked by, frustration mixed with anger and swirled inside him like a hurricane coming to shore until hisgaze landed on the one person who was about to walk right into the eye of the storm.
Mickey.
His blood pumped wildly in his veins and pressure built in his chest. He wanted to march up to her, pull her to his room, and yell at her for being such an idiot. But something about the way her shoulders hunched forward and the contorted features of her face stopped him. He sat, frozen to his seat, unsure of how to approach her. How could someone stir up so many emotions in him at one damn time? As if his mind and his heart were in constant battle over the best way to handle her.
With his gaze fixed on Mickey, he sat up on his stool. Even though he wanted to strangle her, the low plunge of her dress drew his eyes to her breasts. He groaned. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. He should talk to her once he calmed down. With his nerves screaming at him and his mind racing, he was bound to do something he’d regret.
Or would he?
He straightened his legs and then stood just as Mickey turned his way. Their eyes met across the room, and her long legs stopped short. He raised his brows in her direction and her mouth twitched at the corners as she pressed her lips into a firm line. She dropped her gaze to the ground and weaved in between the small groups of people loitering in the lobby, through the bar, and stopped in front of him. Without her heels on, the top of her head reached past his nose.
His jaw tightened and he curled his hands into fists at his sides. His thumbnails dug into his palms to keep him from reaching out and pulling her into his arms.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at him with her head cocked to the side. “How did you know I was here?”
“I work for the FBI, Mickey. It wasn’t too hard.”
Her cheeks sunk in, as if she were biting on the inside of her mouth. “That’s a complete invasion of privacy.”
“Is it? Interesting coming from a woman who just showed up at a complete stranger’s house and asked her personal questions pertaining to a federal investigation.” Graham threw his hands in the air. “Really, Mickey, what the hell were you thinking?”
Color stained her cheeks. “I was getting answers. Answers I need to find Becca. To figure out why Pete used me.”
“That’s my job. You need to stay away and let me do it.”
Fire flashed in her eyes. “How is my asking questions getting in the way of you doing your job?”
Graham sucked in a long breath through his nose. “Did you ever think Paula would be so upset after talking to you she wouldn’t want to talk to anyone else? That it would be too painful to go over everything again so quickly after just discussing it?”
“I guess I didn’t think of that,” Mickey said with a grimace.
“No, you didn’t. Because you didn’t think at all.” His voice rose higher than he intended, and a few heads turned their way. “Dammit, Mickey. Every time I turn around I find you in the middle of this investigation. You aren’t helping me. You’re only making my job ten times harder than it already is.”
God, she’s gorgeous when she’s pissed.
