“Of all the fuckin’ dilemmas, Miguel.”
“Chief, I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said ‘fuck’ and its many verb, adjective, and adverb forms.”
Justice choked on his breath. “Don’t give me a grammar lesson on the word ‘fuck.’ You know I can have Wolf’s SEAL team take out Axis and Axalia with two well-aimed shots. That’s the most expeditious solution to the Anderson problem.”
“Yes, and too easy.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Miguel waited for Justice to explode again. But he didn’t.
“My God, Miguel. You really want to fight Axis and Axalia to the death.”
“I want them to suffer.”
“You’ve changed, Miguel.”
The quiet tone of Justice’s voice caused a hollow pit to form in Miguel’s stomach. “If I have, it’s because I don’t want to lose another woman I love to the Andersons.”
Another thick silence.
“And what does Julia think?”
“We’ve discussed our options. She’s onboard.”
“And how will you feel afterward, Miguel?”
“Vindicated. Relieved that the Anderson threat is finally over for all of us.”
“What if one or both of you don’t survive?”
“That’s not going to happen, Justice. I have a contingency plan in mind.”
Justice released a deep sigh. “River, you know I love you like a brother. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Chief, just trust me a few more days to end this once and for all. Then I’ll report for Secret Service duty. After Julia and I get married, of course.”
“Yeah, about that?—”
“Gotta go, Justice. Bye.” He ended the call.
Miguel could just imagine how many versions of the word ‘fuck’ Justice was blurting right now, and he laughed as he headed into the bathroom to take a shower. When he emerged fifteen minutes later, he found Juan perched on his bed next to a large pile of clothes.
“You need something nice to wear to Mass, General’s orders,” Juan announced.
Miguel nodded. “Thanks. Juan, listen, I need to ask you a favor.”
Juan’s dark eyes widened as he listened to Miguel explain his favor. But he declared his assent and his loyalty, provided it did not usurp his loyalty to the General.
“It won’t,” Miguel assured him. “But Julia and I need insurance.”
“Sí. I understand.”
“Now get out of here so I can dress for Mass.”
Juan smiled and left the room.
Miguel and Julia stepped out of their quarters at the same time. He stopped in his tracks and stared at her. He’d never seen her wear anything other than pants and jeans and T-shirts and her hair in a convenient ponytail. But this morning she wore a sweeping multicolored skirt, a white, off-the-shoulder blouse, and delicate sandals. Her usual straight dark hair now hung in shiny sleek waves down her shoulders like an ebony waterfall. She’d never worn makeup either, but chasing and being chased by bad guys wasn’t conducive to enhancing one’s looks. Today, however, dusty purple eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner, blush, and pink lip gloss highlighted Julia’s natural beauty. Her sensuality stunned him.
“My God, Jules. You look…gorgeous.”
