His face ashen, haunted, Jax glanced out across the backyard. “Cochise knows what happened… but he wasn’t there. He didn’t see…” He sniffed and wiped his mouth, casting a quick look at Jesus. “We were there. We saw him come apart when he couldn’t save the child.”
Jesus hung his head as tears filled his eyes. “I was the closest thing to a doctor in that place. He wanted me to save her… and I couldn’t.” He swallowed thickly and met Axel’s stare. “I know he doesn’t blame me, but I still feel the guilt.”
Jax slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the fuckers who brought her there… and the bastard who raped her.”
“I know,” Jesus whispered. “But I can’t get it out of my head. That brief gleam of hope in the cowboy when I came into the cell. For that one instant, he believed I could save her. Then the devastation that followed… when he understood I couldn’t. That none of us could do anything for her.”
Stop. Axel felt sick. He hadn’t gotten these details from Cochise—because Cochise hadn’t witnessed the horror. But these men… he could see that horror in their eyes, hear it in their voices as they painted a vivid picture of what Clint had endured—and it was killing Axel. The cowboy did a good job of hiding it. There was a haunt to his eyes when he returned home, but not to the extent of what these two men were describing. Cochise may not have been on the scene, but he saw Clint immediately after—witnessed the carnage within the cowboy. That’s why he insisted Axel force Clint to talk about it. Keeping it inside for too long could destroy the cowboy. And in turn… everyone who loved him.
●●●
“What happened to Zoe’s hand?” Cal arrived with Anthony, Angelo, and their bunch, but hadn’t followed the others on through the house to the backyard.
Cochise slowly rubbed his mouth. “She broke up with her boyfriend.”
Cal frowned, shocked. “What? When?”
“Today.”
“But… what happened to her hand?” Cal chuffed. “Did she hit him?”
The question was posed in jest. Cochise replied in non-jest. “Yes.”
“What?” Cal stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Um… did… did she say why she broke up with him?”
Cochise looked down at the young man. “He confessed his cheating ass.”
Cal blinked. “He confessed?”
“With a little… prodding.”
Squinting a the Egyptian, Cal chewed his lip. “Prodding? From who? Axel?”
“No.”
“You?” When Cochise just looked at him with a confirming stare, Cal smiled uncertainly. “What… what did you do to him?” There was a gleam of hope in his eyes that Cochise dealt with the asshole like a father scorned.
“Not much. Zoe took care of him.”
“She really hit him?” Cal grinned.
“And relocated his balls to his throat.”
“What…” Cal sucked back a laugh. “She kicked him in the…?”
“Mm.”
“Wow.” Cal laughed softly. “Good on her.” He sobered. “How is she? I mean… well… she seemed really hung up on the guy. It had to hurt to find out he was messing around on her.”
Cochise sighed. “It did. But she’s tough, and smart. She’ll move on and find someone better.” He cast a sidelong glance at Cal. If it was up to him to choose her next boyfriend—it was no contest; Cal would be it. But the young man’s care and affection for Zoe didn’t guarantee mutual feelings in the young woman. Love couldn’t be forced—either it was there, or it wasn’t.
It remained to be seen if Zoe and Cal’s relationship advanced beyond friendship.
In the meantime, though… Cal could do his part by becoming a notable presence in Zoe’s life.
Cochise was certain Axel would help make that happen.
CHAPTER 3
Anguish of Love
Clint was more than a little surprised when Matteo showed up with Cruz’s bunch. Even when invited, the man rarely attended “functions.” Clint took him for a bit of a homebody. He didn’t know the man as well as he did Rodriguez but knew him to be a man of integrity. Matteo hadn’t hesitated to jump in and help with the trafficked kids, offering kindness and compassion to the traumatized children.
It took all of a few seconds to puzzle out why he was here today. The man’s eyes never left Carmen—except when she glanced his way. Clint didn’t think he was shy about her catching him looking… but rather, didn’t wish to spook her. The young woman had suffered much at the hands of men. A man of compassion and understanding would know not to make advances too suddenly.
Hope was nestled in the cowboy’s arms when Cruz’s brood entered the house. As he always did, Cruz came straight to the baby and kissed her head.
“Hello, angel,” Cruz cooed. “How’s my baby girl? This cranky old cowboy taking good care of you?” Hope squealed in delight and kicked her feet. Cruz chuckled. “I’ll take that as a hearty yes.”
Clint smiled and kissed his daughter’s brow as his gaze jumped to Carmen. The young woman approached him tentatively, her baby sister cradled in her arms. She looked at Hope, her eyes brightening with adoration.
“She’s beautiful.”
Cruz glanced at the two infants. “They’re both beautiful angels. And they could definitely pass as sisters.”
Clint agreed.
When Kane and Cochise approached, Carmen stared at Kane. “He’s the one you called?” she murmured to Cochise in Spanish. The Egyptian nodded. Kane wasn’t as fluent in Spanish and appeared confused by her words.
“This is Carmen,” Cochise said. “The young woman I told you about.”
Kane smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.” His attention went to the infant. “And this must be Camille. And…” He looked down at the boy huddling against her leg. “… Roberto?”
Roberto watched him warily, clinging to his big sister.
“It’s… okay.” Carmen told the boy in his native tongue.
The child didn’t budge, and Kane nodded. “It’s all right. We’ll get acquainted in time.”
Roberto peeked around Carmen and looked up at Clint. The cowboy winked and smiled. The boy didn’t return the smile, but neither did he appear as fearful of Clint. Understandable—they had already spent time together.
Matteo made his way around the perimeter of the small group to stand beside Clint. He brushed his knuckles gently across Hope’s head, a not-so-distant sadness filling his eyes.
“Do you want to hold her?” Clint asked.
The younger man nodded, and Clint passed the infant into his arms. Matteo gazed at Hope with deep affection, the sadness in him mounting. “I miss him,” he whispered with a developing rasp. “He brought… light… into our lives. Always there to listen or make us laugh.” His words strained and eyes swam. “He was a good friend. Both of them… they should be here.”