He slid his hand over her cheek, trying to offer what comfort her could. It seemed to work because she quieted and went still. He left his hand there a long moment before finally pulling it regretfully away.
He glanced at the sat phone and blew out his breath. It was time to check in with Sam.
When he received no answer, Rio methodically went down his list of contacts by command. It wasn’t unusual not to be able to contact one or more of the Kellys but all of them?
With a grimace, he punched in Steele’s number. Steele was the team leader for the other KGI team, and while they all worked well enough together, Rio would rather eat nails than have to rely on Steele for anything. The other team leader was an ice-cold bastard, more of a machine than a man, and he had an uncanny instinct for nosing out trouble, which meant no one ever got the upper hand on him.
Yeah, well, Rio was waiting for the day that changed. No one was blessed for long. Sooner or later, he’d fall on his face, and Rio would try not to laugh too hard when it happened.
When he couldn’t reach Steele, his gut started screaming again. Rio had left the Kelly compound just as Grace’s sister, Shea, had been rescued and brought in for safety. But Rio hadn’t hung around to get details other than what he needed to track Grace.
Something was wrong, which meant Rio and his men were on their own and it was up to him to make sure Grace got the care she needed. Which was fine with him. He’d much rather rely on himself and his team. KGI always had his back, but he had theirs just as many times, and when it came to something important to him, he’d rather have sole control.
He left a message with the resident tech guru, Donovan, but was purposely vague. An idea—his idea—had already started forming in his head.
He’d been called stubborn. Rebellious even. He’d had a career in breaking all the rules. No one had ever been able to contain him, and his respect and position at KGI had been the closest he’d ever come to being a subordinate in any matter.
Sam trusted him, though, and just as often was content to let Rio go his own way. He didn’t push his team leader. If he had, perhaps Rio would even now be solo. But for now he was comfortable within the confines of KGI, because it suited him.
After so long living and breathing those shades of gray, it was a nice change to be on the Captain America side. He’d lived outside the lines. He’d been the very thing he now loathed. People who’d stolen young women like Shea and Grace Peterson. Used them. Discarded them. All for the greater good. As if there was such a thing. In this world, the struggle was never about good or evil. It was about money and power.
Grace would bring money and power to the men who managed to capture her and bend her to their will. If Rio had anything at all to say about it, they’d never get their hands on her again.
His resolve to protect this resilient woman had nothing to do with penance or guilt. He was pragmatic enough to know that he’d done what was necessary in his life. He had few regrets, but it didn’t mean he wanted to remain a ghost. Nobody. Not real. Not existing. Having no life except to serve the next great ambition.
He was his own master, his own God now. He had only himself to answer to. As long as he could wake up every morning and look at himself in the mirror, he was content. As content as someone could be who’d lurked in the shadows for so long that he dared not step too fully into the sun.
He glanced at Grace’s still form and was compelled to touch the soft side of her neck. Her pulse pattered softly against his fingers and some of the tension eased in his chest.
It was difficult to explain, even to himself, his compulsion when it came to Grace. The first time he’d laid eyes on Shea Peterson, something inside him had twisted. He’d seen the torment n Athe torin her eyes. Knew that she’d experienced more than most warriors had faced in their lifetime.
And then he’d been confronted by the video footage of Grace standing in the living room of her parents’ house. Frightened. Skittish and prepared to bolt like a spooked deer.
It had taken him back to years before. The image of Rosalina, his precious younger sister, had burned bright in his memory. Her belly softly rounded. The fear in her eyes. The knowledge of her own mortality. The knowledge that she wasn’t long for this world.
It was the same look and the same feeling that he got from Grace. It spurred his determination not to let her slip away. Not like Rosalina had. She’d died in his arms, never once condemning the ass**le who’d done so much harm to her.
It had taken Rio an entire year to track the bastard down and another twenty-four hours before Rosalina’s former lover had died an excruciating death, begging for mercy the entire last two hours.
Killing was something Rio was no stranger to, but he’d never before taken pleasure in it. Neither did he regret the task. He’d learned early on to have no emotions. It made him a better soldier and assassin. But he’d taken savage satisfaction in making his sister’s murderer suffer. And when death was imminent, Rio had stared into his eyes and whispered Rosalina’s name so that the bastard would take the knowledge to hell with him that Rosalina had been avenged.
Grace stirred and moaned softly, her forehead wrinkling as if she were in pain. He moved closer, laying his hand against her cheek so she would know he was nearby.
Dusk had blanketed the mountains and the chill had deepened. His men would need to return soon so they could move Grace to a safer, less exposed area. She needed time to rest and to heal before he took her thousands of mile
s away. To his world. His turf. The one place where he answered only to himself and he could be assured of keeping her safe.