Anything for His Son. Rita Herron
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surged through her. “This is all your fault. You and your job. It was always more important than us. And now our son’s life is on the line because of it.”
Ethan’s face hardened and he balled his hands into fists. “I promise you, Bec. I may have let you both down before, but this time I won’t. I swear it.”
Pain thickened his voice, but Rebecca saw other images in her mind. The disappointment in Jesse’s eyes the night Ethan hadn’t come home to help them decorate the Christmas tree. His silent tears another time when Ethan had missed Jesse’s first Little League game. The crude family sketch Jesse had drawn this year in kindergarten, a picture of the three of them and a new baby, the little brother Jesse had asked Santa for last year.
A baby they would never have, living on opposite sides of the country and divorced.
“I know you mean that, Ethan. But what if we—what if you—can’t save him? What if it’s too late already?”
He flinched. “Don’t talk like that, Bec. Besides…”
“Besides what, Ethan?” she asked coldly.
“Jesse is more useful alive.”
“More useful?” Shock stirred her temper. “What’s wrong with you, Ethan? You’re talking about Jesse like he’s some object, not your own son.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Bec, and you know it. I’m trying to think like a cop.”
“All I know is that you let us walk out of your life once before. You were ready to sign the divorce papers, so I assume you want me out of your life.”
He didn’t move, simply met her look with a dark, piercing gaze that sliced through her, reopening painful wounds.
“You’re the one who wanted the papers signed so you could get on with your life,” he said bitterly.
Only because he hadn’t wanted them enough to try.
She ached for him to hold her now, yearned to believe that he could make this right, but she couldn’t allow herself to believe in him again, to trust him. She and Jesse had been hurt too many times before.
So she wrapped her anger around her instead. She’d come here to end their marriage. And she would—once they found Jesse.
ETHAN SPUN AWAY FROM REBECCA, his chest aching. She was right to blame him. The situation was all his fault. He was responsible for the agony in Rebecca’s cries, the fear in her eyes. And the fact that his son was in the hands of a madman.
“I know you hate me, Rebecca, but I love our son and I’ll do everything in my power to bring him back.”
“I don’t hate you, Ethan,” she said, although her look condemned him in his soul. “But I can’t trust you, either. When this is over, it might be best for you to stay away from Jesse.”
Her soft voice twisted the knife of guilt piercing his chest. But she was right.
He was a failure as a father and husband. As much as he’d loved her, he hadn’t been able to give himself wholly.
And Jesse deserved to be safe. He didn’t deserve to be in the hands of Liam Shea, to be a ploy in his revenge plot.
The cold wave of terror settling inside him hardened his jaw. But could he really let them both go forever when he got Jesse back?
Rage sparked his temper, pushing the guilt and heartache into the back of his mind. He had hoped to talk to Rebecca today, let her know that he was going to cut back on his hours, spend more time with his son. His software company had attained the level of success he’d hoped for; he could delegate work and be with Jesse. But now he might never get that chance. And Rebecca didn’t want him in their lives at all.
“Ethan, do you have a plan? Some way to contact Shea?”
He pivoted, resorted to what he did best.
He might not be a good father, but he was damn good at tracking down terrorists and bad guys. And when it came time to kill, Ethan would have no problem taking out Liam or his sons.
“No, but I will.”
Ty poked his head in with a frown. “I need to go, Ethan.”
“What do we do now?” Rebecca asked.
A computer ace, Ethan knew how to dig up information.
“Let me see what I can find out about Liam and his sons.” Grateful he still had some battery left in his computer, Ethan booted up his laptop and typed in several commands, searching the databases Eclipse had access to.
“What are you looking for?” Rebecca asked.
“Everything I can find on them.” Ethan scrubbed a hand over his neck. “Where Liam and his sons have been the past few years. Jobs. Addresses. Friends or associates. Anything that might give us a clue where they’re hiding out, or where they’ve taken Jesse.”
A photo of Liam appeared on the screen. Ethan frowned, his mind sweeping him back ten years to that fateful mission.
The hostages, mostly engineers, teachers and missionaries, were being held in a densely populated downtown, in the cavernlike basement of a closely guarded building. The world had prayed for their release for weeks. Every country from which the hostages had hailed—the U.S., England, Australia and the Alpine nation Beau Pays—had attempted a rescue and failed.
Ethan’s Special Forces team had been the last hope.
The men had methodically outlined their plan. Just as Ty ignited a minor explosion as a diversion, Liam was to kill the power to the building, plunging it into darkness to provide cover for the team’s entrance. The eight of them, armed with high-tech surveillance to see where the hostages were being held, were in place to take out the guards in precision timing down to the nanosecond.
Previous rescuers had reported that the captors had scrambled all frequencies in the building, allowing no communication between team members. Commander Bradley was supposed to give a visual cue.
But something had gone wrong.
Sweat rolled down Ethan’s neck as he remembered the events. Shea, claiming he’d seen Bradley’s signal, had killed the lights prematurely, causing the captors to release cyanide gas. Among the chaos, it was a miracle anyone had gotten out alive.
“Ethan?”
Rebecca’s soft voice jerked him from the traumatic memory. When he glanced up, he saw her watching him warily. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He turned back to the computer, clicked a few more keys, and photographs of Liam’s boys spilled onto the screen.
Which one of them had Jesse? Liam or one of his sons?
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