Hot Zone (Elite Force #2)(42)
Author: Catherine Mann

Amelia looked up fast, then forced a smile through the protective urges flooding her. “Thank you. That’s generous, but I can’t stand to be apart from him, especially after all we’ve been through. You understand.”

“Of course.” Jocelyn pushed to her feet. “I actually came out to let you know we’ll be eating supper in about fifteen minutes. Nothing fancy, but it’ll be a step above the mangoes and bananas you’ve probably been eating.” She dropped a kiss on top of Joshua’s head. “See you inside.”

As the woman left, Amelia snagged the fan left behind on the chair and whipped up a breeze for herself. Jocelyn was doing everything right, being completely nice and gracious. Still, Amelia desperately wanted to take Joshua and run somewhere… anywhere else, but her reality was here and now, making the best decisions she could in between earthquakes and snakebites.

The ball bounced off her foot. Joshua giggled, pulling her attention back to him. Where it should be. Where she wanted it to be.

“Hey, there, cutie-pie.” She waved the fan in front of his face until he laughed again, tugging the palm from her hands and whacking the ball.

Such a perfect moment. So simple, but pure. Normal, after far too much insanity.

Other than some scratches on his arms and one leg, there were no signs of the hell he’d been through. His arms waved with excitement and energy. His eyes were bright and alert. There was just… happiness. Happiness in spite of an earthquake and kidnapping. In spite of the fact that he’d been in an orphanage last week and his new parents could be dead.

Which left Joshua… where?

She rolled the ball back. With a soft baby chuckle, he flung himself over and into her arms. She hugged him close automatically. Then tighter. He wasn’t going anywhere except with her.

And God forbid anyone try to get in her way.

***

Jocelyn Pearson-Stewart pulled a knife from the wooden block in her kitchen and whipped the edge across the sharpening stone. Again and again, flipping the blade to get both sides.

She had always trusted her inner circle completely—until she’d been forced to put a bullet through Oliver’s head today. Killing Oliver tore at her soul. He was hired muscle, and disposable for the greater good of making sure her organization wouldn’t be exposed. She’d been warned he might be a loose cannon, but he’d been efficient. She hated those moments when she was forced into positions that made her feel no better than her drug-dealing family.

Forcing a smile for her dinner guests, she turned to the tile-topped island and a pile of the last fresh vegetables. She set to work chopping a salad—lettuce, cabbage, carrots, celery, radishes. Chop. Chop. She monitored each of her “nieces”—not blood relations, since all of hers were about as trustworthy as rats in a cheese shop.

Her nieces—sergeants in her business—carried plates and a serving bowl full of canned spaghetti. Their surprise company sat at the long table, illuminated by the sunset.

Chop. Chop. Everything in her world looked nice, normal, and most importantly, under control.

After Jocelyn had heard the gunshot on the beach, she’d found the trio within minutes, saving her hours of driving around, searching for them, once she’d realized how hugely Oliver had screwed up. She’d taken her time to assess them just beyond the cover of trees and decide if she should kill the two adults outright or if somehow this could be salvaged with no more loss of life. Especially since they appeared to be innocents who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. She preferred not to kill unless absolutely necessary to protect her operation. She was in the business of saving lives, not taking them.

Time. Chop. Chop. She just needed time to see how much they knew and if it could be traced back to her. So she’d called her compound to prepare. They’d been instructed to take the children—eleven of them—to the beach cabana. A skeleton crew was left at the main house, pretending to be her nieces, Courtney and Erin.

Number one rule for them to remember right now? Pretend they had no means of communication with the outside world and limited fuel until she figured out what to do with their unexpected company.

Thanks to her contact at the hospital, she’d learned Amelia was not the boy’s mother, but rather an aunt who’d only known him for a few days. It was unclear whether his parents were alive or not. Now she would use this opportunity to decide how much Hugh and Amelia knew, then proceed from there.

She sped—chop, chop, chop—through the rest of the vegetables, tossed them in a bowl, and circled round the island toward the carved oak table. Placing the bowl in the middle, she eyed the child sitting on his aunt’s lap as she fed him spoonfuls of cut-up spaghetti.

Jocelyn sat at the head of the table. “Sorry about the canned dinner, but our options are limited. We have fuel for the generator, but we’re conserving.”

Swiping Joshua’s mouth with her good hand, Amelia said, “Just sitting at a table feels… unreal. Sardines and crackers would be gourmet.”

Courtney grabbed the tongs and served herself salad. “Not a joke. That’s up soon on the menu.”

Erin gripped her water bottle in a white-knuckled fist. “How bad is it out there, Sergeant? We’ve heard reports on the radio.”

“It’s even worse,” Hugh said simply, wearing a white T-shirt with his camo pants. “The devastation is intense. The death toll has risen into the thousands.”

Jocelyn forked spaghetti up slowly. “I would like to help, but it sounds dangerous. We have to be careful, three women out here alone. Although I’m thankful to have my nieces for company.”

She reached to pat the hands of the two women on either side of her.

Courtney had been married to a well-connected husband who also had a quick temper and quicker right hook. He’d ruptured her spleen and bought his way out of prosecution seven years ago. The auburn-haired soccer mom had opted to leave Atlanta and relocate anonymously with her son to keep him safe. She had been with Jocelyn ever since.

And Erin? The former Oklahoma cheerleader was on the run from her high school sweetheart-turned-stalker. Nearly three years had passed since the underground network had brought her here.

Now they helped her with a deep loyalty since she’d rescued them from certain death. And they had a deep empathy with the other women and children she saved, understanding the way a hellish background could scare some people away from making the right decisions for their future. Courtney and Erin understood that frightened victims of abuse or neglect sometimes needed prompting to do the right things for themselves.