Page 15 of Jacqueline's Quest

“A person in the wheelchair isn’t a threat. They can’t run.”

Jaqueline nodded. Her gaze flickered from the screen to Murray’s face. It was only then she saw the longing and pain reflected in his blue eyes as he looked up at the monitor. She kicked herself for the doubt in her mind then kicked herself again for allowing her emotions to take over. She thought... Shit, she didn’t know what she thought. Maybe their little exercise had done more harm than good.

“Murray—”

“Emotion isn’t always a good thing, Jaq. They’ll get you killed.”

Jaqueline understood the sentiment all too well. Hers cost someone their life and she never forgave herself for it. It had happened during a posting with the Special Forces. She had joined because she had believed in what they were doing, hoping that they were there to help the people of Mexico. Most were, but like anything else in her country, corruption ran rampant and when she had been re-assigned to a new Commander. On her third mission with her team, they’d been ambushed. No one but her superior and her team knew about it, so when they were surrounded, not only had the team been betrayed, so had she. It also meant disobeying a direct order from her superior officer. Had she not, so many more would have died. In the end, her parents dying had been the perfect reason to leave a job she loved.

Unfortunately, when her brother went missing, all of those old memories of being stuck in a small village, being told to look the other way, roared back to life. She wouldn't apologize for her determination to free every last person inside that fucked-up building. She also wouldn't apologize for wanting to give the man sitting next to her hope. He used his charm and good looks to keep people at arm’s length and in doing so, turned him into a surly asshole.

“I’m well aware of what happens when emotions get involved.” She snorted. “Or are you deliberately being obtuse?”

He scrubbed his face. “Neither. Look, this is sensitive. If we go in guns blazing, we’ll get ourselves killed and our good intentions will be for not. Fuck knows what would happen if we went in there and kidnapped our siblings. Raul might take it out on the others or worse, kill them all and run because he’d been found.”

He had a point. She didn’t agree with it, but she understood where he was coming from. “He’s not afraid enough to run. He’s a cocky bastard.”

“Regardless,” Murray stated. “We have to do this a step at a time.”

“We’re wasting time.”

Murray stood. "My sister is in there. She's been there for ten years. She is my priority."

“And Christian is mine.”

“Running headlong into the fire will get us both killed. It will getbothofthemkilled.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re a do first worry about the consequences later. I’m not. I’m the kind of guy who plans everything to the minutest of details because somethingalwaysgoes wrong, even when it should go right. Believe me, when I say, this will backfire on us if we go storming through the doors."

“So, we sit here and do nothing?” She shot out of her chair and began to pace the small space. “You have your fancy equipment and your technology, and you take all your pictures while our siblings suffer.”

“GoddammitJaq, listen to me. I hate this too. But we stick to the plan. We get as much information about the building as we can, and we stick to the auction.” Murray grabbed his laptop and headed for the stairs. “I know nothing I am telling you right now is sinking in, because you’re fucking gung ho about your brother, but have you stopped to think about my feelings and how helpless I am at this moment too?”

She jerked. “Yeah right. You? Feel helpless? Sure.” His words hit her square in the face. Each one of them. As much as she tried to tell herself she was concerned about Hannah, her thoughts landed solely on her brother who’d be scared and anxious and not understand a bit of what was going on.

“Believe what you want about me.” He stomped up the stairs and exited her personal C&C.

She slumped back into her chair and blew out a breath. “What did I do?” When she glanced up, the single still shot of the wheelchair was still visible on the screen. She stared at it. Murray was right, there might be several people in the club who were confined to wheelchairs, however, she could also tell there was a difference to it.

Things Murray wouldn’t notice.

Things people with money wouldn’t notice.

A good majority of those confined to a wheelchair in Mexico had shitty hand-me-downs. Most were decommissioned from hospitals around the area. Others had been fished out of landfills because people were desperate for them for whatever reason. This one though... This person’s chair was high tech. It appeared to be ergonomic. It was made to fit a person, not just get them from point a to point b. It also had modifications she’d never seen before, nor understood. No, she’d been right when she said the wheelchair belonged to Hannah. Convincing Murray, however, would be another thing.

Because he kept his hope levels low.

She had to fix this. If they continued to argue about what they should be doing instead of focusing on the operation, it wouldn’t matter who was right, they’d fail. She stood and exited the room. When she cleared the floor, she glanced around and found the kitchen empty. She closed the trap door behind her and went outside. In the time Murray had been with her, he spent a lot of time near the pasture, staring off toward where the cattle roamed. He’d also taken to feeding the cows in the morning with the help Jaqueline kept on the payroll after her father and mother passed away.

Murray wasn’t a ranch kind of guy, yet he threw himself into it, kind of like he did everything else. He had a certain amount of tenacity to him. He didn’t give up easily. It’d been why she was upset. He gave up when it came to looking at those pictures of his sister.

As she came around the corner of her house, she found him staring off toward Juarez. If he heard her approaching him, he didn’t indicate it. His features were so expressive. Raw pain slashed across his face. His blue eyes were too bright. His mouth was compressed into a thin line. His brows were furrowed.

“Hey.” She gave him space.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“Nothing.” The awkward tension building between them snapped into place when she stared at his back. It shouldn’t be this hard to have a conversation with him. “I, uh...”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he stated. “We’re after different things. We’re doing this for different outcomes.”

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