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She licked dry lips, knowing what might happen if she broke her silence. “Baker—”
“I was wrong before.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “About what I said to you back at the camp. I’ve been so angry since Linley died that I’ve pushed everyone away for the smallest infractions. Because I was scared. I didn’t want to lose anyone else, so I shut down any possibility of letting someone influence the way I feel, including you. I’ve been so focused on finding a way to bring down the cartel for what they took from me that I blinded myself to the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You.” He released a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, Jocelyn. For everything. You deserved better from someone claiming to be your partner.”
A flashlight beamed straight into her face.“¡Silencio!”
Her shoulder burned with the possibility of taking another bullet, but it didn’t hurt as much as it had before. Jocelyn moved her opposite hand to block the sensory assault, but there was no amount of distraction that could convince her that the man beside her would be able to ignore her past. Baker was law enforcement. He witnessed the results of addictions like hers on a daily basis, and he had every reason to worry he might find her unconscious and overdosed. Because it was a possibility. This thing she carried inside her wasn’t ever going to go away. And as much as she hated it, there was always a chance she’d give up the fight one day. She couldn’t do that to him. The warmth given off by his touch urged her to forgive him, to let him into her world, to tell him she wanted to spend the rest of her life proving she was good enough for him. But she couldn’t.
Jocelyn pried her hand from his, and she felt more than saw the collapse in his expression. “Let’s just get through this.”
Movement divided the semicircle of cartel soldiers in half. A single figure materialized at the back. Male, heavily armored from the outline of his Kevlar vest. The flashlights and dim lantern did nothing to highlight his features, but there was something there she recognized. In his walk, in the way he held himself. Former military. Not born or abducted into Sangre por Sangreas most of the others had been. This one had converted to a life of violence, bloodshed and dominance of his own free will.
“Socorro has a lot of nerve showing their face here after what went down on that cliffside,” he said.
The voice penetrated through her minuscule amount of confidence. Recognition filled in the shadows of the man’s face. “Rojas. It’s been a long time. Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if it’d been my choice. Don’t suppose you’d look past the fact Chief Halsey is holding a detonator that could bring this entire building down on us with the slip of his finger?”
Nervous energy rolled through the grouping of soldiers. A couple backed toward the door, eyes on the ceiling.
“You know this guy?” Baker asked.
Better than anyone. They were going to walk out of here alive, if she played her cards right. “Dominic Rojas, let me introduce you to Chief Baker Halsey, Alpine Valley PD.” She nodded at Baker. “Rojas is a high-ranking lieutenant in Sangre por Sangre and a fellow baker. Though I’m not sure I would call what he does baking, really. Cookies aren’t supposed to snap like biscuits.”
Baker cut his attention to her, as sharp as a blade. “You realize we might die right now, don’t you?”
“I knew you were going to go there, Carville.” Rojas charged forward, and the lantern caught on his features. Neither Hispanic nor Chinese American, but a combination of the two. It was clear in the shape of his eyes, in the lighter color of his skin. She’d been right before. Former military—the Marines. A damn good one, too. Dominic Rojas had once been a Socorro operative named Carson Lang. And he’d taught her everything she knew about baking.
He shoved his finger into her face, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knocking her off balance. “That was one time!”
“Yet it was enough for second place compared to my chocolate chip,” she said.
Rojas’s low laugh that didn’t even own a hint of humor vibrated through the room. The lieutenant straightened. “You always were out to prove you have the biggestcajones, but this time might be your undoing, Carville. You think you can walk in here, insult my baking and expect I would let you leave alive?”
“That’s a valid question.” Baker’s nerves were getting the better of him.
“To be fair, I think I was dragged in here. By him.” Jocelyn tipped her head back. A groan registered from Trevino as he came around. “Recognize him?”
“Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” Rojas asked.
“Seems Ponderosa didn’t really lose their chief in that car bombing a couple months ago,” she said. “The bombings at the station and Marc De Leon’s compound? Both devices were built and detonated by him.”
“Don’t forget the device in my hand.” Baker waved with a half smile, but the possibility of war was still very real at this point.
Jocelyn leaned forward slightly. “Oh, right. He strapped me into that vest over there and planned to set it off with this handheld detonator. It’s a dead man’s switch.”
“Why go through all this trouble? Did you insult his baking, too?” Rojas snapped his fingers, and two soldiers lowered their weapons, peeled off from the group and maneuvered around their lieutenant to drag the Ponderosa chief forward. They laid him and the Kevlar vest at Rojas’s feet. “Because I’m starting to think he had the right idea.”
“Marc De Leon tortured and killed the chief’s daughter. Under orders, is that right?” Her heart tried to absorb the heaviness overtaking Baker’s body language, but there wasn’t anything she could do for him in that respect. Humans were tribal creatures. They craved connections and support and love just like the rest of the animal kingdom. But when that love was gone, they had to grieve on their own. She understood that now.
Rojas didn’t answer, which was answer enough in and of itself.
Jocelyn lowered her arm to her side in surrender. “The chief constructed and detonated the bomb that blew up his truck to make it look as though the Ghost had targeted him, too. It gave him time to plan out his revenge. First by killing De Leon. Then by trying to frame your cartel for Chief Halsey’s and my deaths.”
“Starting a war between us and your employer and anyone else your government sent after us.” Registering what she’d just divulged, Rojas backed off a few inches. Then he nudged Trevino’s ribs with the toe of his dust-covered boots. “It was a good plan,amigo. My bosses have been looking for a reason to take Socorro out for good.”
Jocelyn lost the oxygen in her chest. If that was true, Rojas and his men could just finish the job Ponderosa’s chief started right here, right now. Effectively eliminating any competition Rojas went up against at the next bake-off and making his loyalties clear. What had started as an undercover assignment in Sangre por Sangre would end with a target on his back from the very people he claimed as his own. Had he been Dominic Rojas long enough that was an actual possibility? Would he even have a choice when faced with blowing his cover?
“Whether that happens or not is up to you,” she said.
Her pulse counted off a series of beats. Quicker than a couple minutes ago when she’d been sure they were walking out of here alive. She suddenly found herself missing Baker’s hand in hers, wished she hadn’t shut down that point of connection in the final seconds they had left together.
