The fentanyl cocktail fed to her over several hours by Ortiz’s men had wreaked havoc on her body. An internal battle waged within her to be treated immediately to counter the effects of the drugs with the urge to sneak off to get another hit. She’d welcome the warm numbness to take away the pain clawing at the edges of her mind. The torture of not knowing if Rocco would be found. If he had survived the fight with Nomar to come back to her where he belonged.
With each passing hour, her confidence and hope waned.
The longer he was out there, the higher the likelihood that the search would be converted from a search and rescue to a search and … recovery.
“Please … leave me alone,” Jemma said, then turned away from the men. She appreciated what they’d done for her and knew that Rocco must have trusted them. But she didn’t know them. She had no desire to be comforted by strangers while her heart ached to see Rocco again.
“You should do what she says and back off,” a familiar voice came from behind her.
Jemma turned and saw Fallon approaching from a distance. She leapt down from the back of the rescue trailer and ran into the open arms of her dear friend.
“I’m so glad to see you.”
“Only you would be pissed to have four of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen in my life hovering over you,” Fallon joked, then leaned back to look at the men of Stingray Security.
Jemma dismissed her statement with a wave. She wasn’t blind but none of them could hold a candle to Rocco in her eyes. He was the only man she wanted and he was lost at the moment.
Fallon asked, “Who are they?”
“Stingray Security, a group Rocco connected with to find me,” Jemma said. “I’m guessing from your question that they weren’t the ones who alerted the DEA that I’d been found.”
“No, you alerted us,” Fallon said. “From what we can piece together, the burner phone you’d gotten possession of to try to send us a message finally had a strong enough signal. We got all of your texts in the span of minutes and were able to triangulate the location of the phone to one of the Outer Islands of the Palmchat Islands.”
“So the entire Proteus team is here?”
Fallon nodded. “On our way there, we saw a speed boat taking off from the dock on the island. Half the team deployed to search the private island. The other half turned around to track the boat. We got him, Jemma.”
“Nomar? You found him?” Jemma asked, her heart leaping with the news. It was the first good news she’d gotten since Rocco and Nomar had tumbled off the hull of the SPSS in the middle of the night.
“He suffered two gunshot wounds, one to the chest and the other to the leg. He’s being treated at the maximum security hospital on Tiverton before we extradite him back to the Dominican Republic,” Fallon explained.
“Thank God!” Jemma said, although a big part of her had hoped he had died in those waters with his men.
“But I have better news.” Fallon smiled brighter. “We found Agent Rocco Forrester, too. The only person he wants to see is you.”
Chapter 63
“I’m not the one who should be lying in a hospital bed,” Jemma complained, tugging at the tubes snaking from her arms to various medical equipment surrounding her.
“Who’s the doctor here?” Rocco asked with a grin. “Shall we compare injuries?” He’d suffered bruises and minor cuts from his fight with Nomar but was otherwise fine. After plunging into the black depths of water, he’d fought the currents trying to resurface. Disoriented, he’d lost sight of the sub as he broke through the water’s surface only to find himself floating alone in the sea. But he wasn’t there for long as a stealth boat carrying members of the Proteus Team lifted him from the water.
Jemma bit her bottom lip and stared into his handsome face.
“Which one of us endured enough fentanyl injections that brought that person almost to the brink of overdosing?” Rocco walked over to the bed and sat next to her. “Do you know how worried I was about you? How it drove me crazy not knowing what Nomar was doing to you? If you were okay or hurt or assaulted? It damn near killed me.”
“That’s nothing compared to watching as you fell off the top ofthe sub and plunged into the waters. I kept waiting for you to surface but you never did,” Jemma countered. “I tried to get Lachlan to stay and let me look for you but he refused.”
“As he should have. A drugged-up DEA group supervisor is in no state to swim and execute a rescue mission and you know it,” Rocco said. “Plus, I’m an excellent swimmer. I grew up swimming the ocean in San Juan. I’m like a fish.”
“Fine, you win, okay.”
“Damn right, I do.” Rocco leaned down and brushed his lips softly against hers. He relished in the sweetness of her mouth, the decadence of a kiss he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again.
When Jemma pulled back, he said, “We have a lot to talk about.”
Jemma tried to hide her smile but she couldn’t. “Yes, we do. How many times did we talk about finishing our undercover op so we could explore the next phase of you and me?”
“Zero. We never talked about that. You wouldn’t let us,” Rocco said, easing onto the bed next to her. He pulled Jemma into his arms.
