Long Road Home - Maya Banks Page 0,2

I are working on a transfer as soon as she’s stable.”

“Thanks, Tony,” he whispered. “Tell the boss man I appreciate his help.”

“There’s one other thing, Manny,” Tony said, slipping to the nickname only Jules used.

Manuel waited as he heard Tony shuffling through papers, the crackling coming over the receiver. He heard someone else in the background. Sanderson?

Tony’s voice came back over the phone. “There was a veritable arsenal in Jules’s Jeep. High-tech stuff. Not the run-of-the-mill self-defense for the average citizen. Most of it’s Russian. Sanderson thinks your girl is in quite a bit of trouble.”

Manuel closed his eyes and shook his head in an effort to dispel the overwhelming confusion. Guns? Jules? What the fuck? “I’ll call you when I get to Grand Junction.” He tossed the phone onto the seat and tried to steady himself. His hands shook, and he curled his fingers into fists.

Jules was alive, a fact that gave him unending joy. But the people who’d been such an important factor in his life were dead. He’d entered their lives when he was ten years old. An angry, sullen little boy whose mother had flitted in and out of his world when it suited her mood. He’d crept over to their house when things at his own home had gotten unbearable. They’d represented the only semblance of normalcy he’d had in his young life.

And now they were gone. Raw pain twisted in his chest. His hands clenched the steering wheel, and he gritted his teeth in anger. Whoever had done this to Jules—to his family—was going to pay.

Chapter Three

Grand Junction, Colorado

Jules became aware of horrific pain, and her first thought was that she couldn’t possibly be dead and feel so much hurt. She pried her eyes open and winced when white, hot light poured into her vision. Her eyes slammed shut once more.

She lay still, trying to take stock of her situation. The smell told her she was in a hospital. That nauseating, sterile odor could only come from a medical setting. Her head pounded, and her chest was on fire.

Her nose felt dry and raw. Then she realized it was because oxygen blew a steady stream into her nostrils. She attempted to open her eyes again, squinting against the inevitable onslaught of light.

A blurred figure stood at the foot of her bed. She blinked a few times, wincing at the pain that shot through her head with the slight movement.

As the figure came into focus, her heart constricted, robbing her of precious breath. Manny. Even with his back to her, she recognized him instantly. She swallowed hard, trying desperately to rid herself of the knot in her throat.

He was big. Much bigger than she remembered. His well-muscled arms strained at the sleeves of the polo shirt he wore. Dark slacks molded solid thighs. He towered over the bed, filling the room with his indomitable presence. And suddenly she was afraid.

She closed her eyes again, not wanting to alert him to the fact she was awake. He would hate her for what she’d done.

Mom and Pop. God. She choked as the knot grew larger in her throat. She took several deep gulps of air in through her nose, praying the oxygen did its job.

Full-scale panic threatened to overcome her. She’d killed her parents. People Manny loved dearly. She’d sworn that she’d never allow them to come to harm. It was why she had stayed away for three long years. And now her worst fears had been realized. All because she’d called Northstar’s bluff. And lost.

If Manny found out, he would despise her. The Trehans were everything to him. How could she live with herself after what she’d done? How could she have hurt everyone she ever loved?

Pain flashed through her head, and nausea rolled in her stomach. The explosion registered in her mind over and over. She opened her eyes in an attempt to make it all go away.

A ragged moan tore from her lips before she could call it back.

Manny jerked around, concern etched in every facet of his face. “Jules!” He rushed to her side, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek. “Are you in pain?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, weakened by the joy that flooded through her at the sound of his voice.

His rough thumb smoothed gently over her cheek. “Should I call the nurse?”

Her eyes fluttered open again. “No,” she croaked. She swallowed and tried to speak. For a long moment, she stared into his familiar green eyes. Love and concern,