Anything for His Son

“I’m afraid so. Chase managed to get to the hospital before Aidan got to her.” Ty grunted. “She was pregnant.”

“Hell, don’t tell me Aidan killed her.”

“No, they went on the run. Finally Chase called Ben Parker for help. Unfortunately Parker was killed. Chase called me to warn me about what was going on, that Liam Shea was involved, and that he suspected Liam had something even bigger planned.”

“And now Jesse is missing.” Ethan released a string of expletives.

Rebecca’s soft cry twisted his heart. “He took our son to get back at you?”

Guilt slammed into Ethan. Rebecca was right. It was his fault their son was missing. That mission ten years ago had brought this horror on them now.

He remembered Liam’s fury at the court-martial hearing. The rage in his eyes when he’d been sentenced to prison. His vow of revenge.

Liam didn’t care whom he hurt, as long as he paid them back for what he saw as their betrayal.

And poor little Jesse was being used as a pawn in his twisted plan.

Ethan shook with the force of his fear. He knew Liam well, had witnessed how irate and focused he could be.

God help them.

He didn’t want to tell Rebecca, but Liam was coldhearted enough to kill Jesse to get back at him.

Chapter Four

Rebecca lowered her head into her hands and inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm her raging emotions. Yet her head spun with the implications of Ty’s comments.

One look into Ethan’s face, and the turmoil and guilt in his eyes robbed her breath. She had never seen her strong, tough husband look so terrified. That alone magnified the fear mounting in her chest.

His work for the military had been important and top secret. Though he’d never spoken of it, she’d known it had been dangerous.

But she’d never contemplated the fact that her son’s life might be in jeopardy because of what Ethan had done.

Ty’s explanation for the blackout confirmed how twisted and desperate this man Liam was. And his sons…they must have been planning their revenge for years. They’d undoubtedly covered their tracks, knew what they were doing, how to orchestrate their plan without being detected.

Which one of them had taken Jesse? What were they doing to him now? They could be anywhere in Boston—the seaport district, Cambridge, the North End, Chinatown—or he could have hopped a plane and taken him someplace far away.

Was he alive or had they killed him?

No, don’t think like that. He has to be all right.

Memories of Jesse’s smiling face at the ballgame yesterday flitted through her mind. He’d been so disappointed that Ethan hadn’t shown, but as soon as the game had started, he’d gotten swept up in the excitement, and he’d yelled and pounded his small hand into his glove, hoping to catch a foul ball. Later, she’d laughed as he’d crammed a hot dog into his mouth, and ketchup and mustard had dribbled down his chin.

And when the game had ended, he’d jumped up and down, shouting that he wished his dad could have been there to see the win.

She’d been so angry at Ethan…

Now Jesse might never have the chance to see another game or his father again.

She closed her eyes and summoned her courage. She remembered the way he’d tucked his small hand inside hers as they’d woven through the crowded stadium on the way out. The gleam in his smile when he’d spotted one of the players signing autographs.

He’d trusted her to take care of him, but she had failed. Now he was all alone.…

A strangled sound clogged her throat, and she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. Inside, she splashed cold water on her face, trembling violently. She didn’t want to blame Ethan, yet his past had brought this horror on their innocent little boy.

She leaned against the sink, again seeing Jesse’s trusting small face in her mind, and a sob escaped her. After the first memory came, others followed, and she sagged onto the floor in a heap, raised her knees, propped her arms on them and let the tears fall.

A second later, the door squeaked open, and Ethan sank down beside her, took her in his arms and held her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hating herself for falling apart. She needed to be strong, yet she couldn’t control the flood of emotions.

“Shh, he’s our baby,” Ethan said gruffly. “You wouldn’t be a mother if you weren’t upset.”

She gulped back tears and leaned into him, savoring his strength and comforting arms. He rocked her, soothing her with gentle strokes and whispered promises that he would find Jesse and bring him safely home.

But his words only triggered her anger. He’d muttered false promises before. Hadn’t he sworn he’d be there when Jesse was born? Instead he’d been away on business and she’d almost delivered their baby all alone. The other times he’d disappointed her and Jesse came crashing back, making the pressure in her chest unbearable, and she pulled away.

“You’ve made promises before, Ethan. How can I trust you now?” The need to blame someone, to vent, surged through her. “This is all your fault. You and your job. It was always more important than us. And now our son’s life is on the line because of it.”

Ethan’s face hardened and he balled his hands into fists. “I promise you, Bec. I may have let you both down before, but this time I won’t. I swear it.”

Pain thickened his voice, but Rebecca saw other images in her mind. The disappointment in Jesse’s eyes the night Ethan hadn’t come home to help them decorate the Christmas tree. His silent tears another time when Ethan had missed Jesse’s first Little League game. The crude family sketch Jesse had drawn this year in kindergarten, a picture of the three of them and a new baby, the little brother Jesse had asked Santa for last year.

A baby they would never have, living on opposite sides of the country and divorced.

“I know you mean that, Ethan. But what if we—what if you—can’t save him? What if it’s too late already?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk like that, Bec. Besides…”

“Besides what, Ethan?” she asked coldly.

“Jesse is more useful alive.”

“More useful?” Shock stirred her temper. “What’s wrong with you, Ethan? You’re talking about Jesse like he’s some object, not your own son.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Bec, and you know it. I’m trying to think like a cop.”

“All I know is that you let us walk out of your life once before. You were ready to sign the divorce papers, so I assume you want me out of your life.”

He didn’t move, simply met her look with a dark, piercing gaze that sliced through her, reopening painful wounds.

“You’re the one who wanted the papers signed so you could get on with your life,” he said bitterly.

Only because he hadn’t wanted them enough to try.

She ached for him to hold her now, yearned to believe that he could make this right, but she couldn’t allow herself to believe in him again, to trust him. She and Jesse had been hurt too many times before.

So she wrapped her anger around her instead. She’d come here to end their marriage. And she would—once they found Jesse.