Not the time to ogle her, dude.
In less than a dozen steps, he was on her, wrapping one arm around her small waist to still her and the now-crying boy. With his free hand, he covered her mouth, cutting off the scream he knew was coming.
She thrashed like a feral cat, clawing and hissing, throwing her elbow and launching her knees wherever she thought she might land a blow. Still, he didn’t release her—until she bit his finger hard enough to draw blood.
“Shit…” He shook the digit as she tried to lurch from his grip before grabbing her tighter. “Laila, stop.”
She glared over her shoulder, hazel eyes shooting fire. “Stay away from my nephew. Let me go.”
Her whole body trembled—lips, chin, hands. She was hauntingly beautiful—and absolutely terrified.
Time to try another tactic.
Trees released her and held up both hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m only here to help.”
“I have heard that before.” She turned to him, scrambling back. “And I will not give you the chance to prove yourself a liar.”
Her nephew began to cry, and she soothed the dark-eyed boy with soft, reassuring sounds. Her motherly instinct was strong. Clearly, she would protect Jorge at all costs. But she was running on adrenaline. It wouldn’t last. She looked exhausted. When had she last slept? Or eaten?
Trees closed in slowly, hands still raised. “Let me help you, little one.”
Laila turned even warier as he inched closer. If she was over five feet tall and more than a hundred pounds, it wasn’t by much. Since his height alone must be imposing to her, he did his best to appear harmless.
Suddenly, she pulled a blade from her pocket, lunged on her tiptoes, and shoved the sharp edge against his neck. “You will not touch me again. You will not separate me from my sister. If you are capable of taking us to a new safe house and keeping us hidden—and I have my doubts—we will all go together. I will not budge until I see her.”
Did she really think she could call the shots wielding a knife best suited for spreading butter? He’d been stabbed with far worse.
Trees stared impassively, considering the gentlest way to end her rebellion. “I already said you could have two minutes with your sister. Threatening me isn’t necessary, Laila.”
“Because I can trust you? Ha!” Her smile glinted like the blade at his throat. “I trust Walker. You are not him. I do not know where you have hidden my sister, but you will tell me now. And when I leave to find her, you will not stop me.”
Trees seized her wrist. It didn’t take much effort to shove the blade away, spin her around, and fold her arm behind her back, forcing the knife from her hand. As it clattered to the asphalt, he stepped on the blade and clasped his free hand around her throat. “Because I won’t hurt you. You don’t need to fight me.”
She trembled, breaths harsh, as she clutched her nephew. He could practically feel her concocting ways to escape.
“Laila!” Valeria peeked out from the minivan where Kane stood sentry at the open door.
Gasping, Laila whipped her gaze around. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. Do not be afraid. These men are helping.”
Laila looked unmoved. “We do not need them.”
How did she figure that? Neither sister had been able to escape the Tierra Caliente compound without EM Security. In the harrowing hours since Emilo’s dregs had broken into their Orlando house, Valeria had been more concerned with finding her son and her sister than protecting herself. It was a miracle she hadn’t fallen into enemy hands. And how did Laila imagine she would get away on her own? Who did she think would save her if she was found?
“You called Walker,” Trees reminded her. “You knew you needed help.”
She struggled in his grip, holding the fussing boy even closer. “I knew he could help me find Valeria. And if mauling me is how you intend to ‘help’ me, I will do without. Let me see my sister.”
Trees tried not to lose his patience. “We need you to cooperate.”
“Please…” Valeria begged.
“We have less than two minutes to be gone,” Trees reminded. “Time is ticking.”
She tried to shrug him off, scowling when she failed. “After I see my sister, we will talk.”
Trees had a feeling she’d already made up her mind, but he released her, hovering close in warning.
She darted for Valeria, who would have sprinted across the alley to meet her halfway if Kane hadn’t stopped her.
The sisters reunited beside the van and threw their arms around each other, enfolding Jorge between them. Valeria sobbed as she peppered her son’s head with kisses and thanked God. Laila clung to them both, stroking her sister’s dark hair over and over, tears streaming in thanks that Valeria was alive and unharmed.
Their bond was deep, unmistakable, and moving.
Together, he and Kane closed around them, both to stop the sisters from fleeing and to block any prying eyes. Trees exchanged a glance with the other operative. In Kane’s expression, he saw their shared knowledge that the women had only survived a difficult and cruel world because they had each other.
“Are you all right?” Laila murmured.
“Yes. How did you escape the house?” Valeria cradled her son, feverishly kissing his little head.
Laila explained her scuffle with the two intruders and her getaway through the neighbor’s yard. She was both clever and resourceful—something Trees should probably keep in mind.
Valeria looked horrified. “Are you certain it was Victor?”
Hate burned in Laila’s expression. “If anyone knows that bastard—”
“It is you.” Valeria’s pity told Trees that Victor had hurt Laila in the past. “How did you get away from him when he had a gun pointed at you and Jorge?”
Just what Trees wanted to know, but—
“Ladies, here and now isn’t the time for this conversation. Talk later on the phone.” Kane took the words out of his mouth as he nudged Valeria and Jorge toward the van.
Laila held fast. “You should have fled the area once you realized our house had been compromised. That was our agreement.”
Valeria shook her head and swiped at her tears. “I could not leave you and Jorge to fend for yourselves.”
“She refused to go anywhere without you,” Kane confirmed.
“I would not leave you behind, either,” Laila vowed. “Ever.”
Trees had never had family willing to go to the mat for him. Not that they didn’t love him; they simply hadn’t had time. They’d been too busy surviving. His dad had worked constantly to feed the ten mouths in their house, and his mother had been continually overwhelmed by his seven younger siblings. As the oldest, if he’d had problems, he had been expected to handle them.
“It’s time to go. We’re too pinned in and vulnerable here. If the cartel finds you and fires their weapons…” Trees glanced meaningfully at Jorge.
Valeria clutched her son tighter. “You are right. We must leave.”
“I am coming with you,” Laila insisted.
Trees shook his head. “It’s too risky.”
She ignored him. “We were apart for nearly two years, hermana. No more.”