Sworn to Protect (Vows of the Heart) (2 page)

“Ricardo!” Cordova barked.

Ricardo grabbed Ethan’s shoulders, hauling him back. Fury rose within him. His fingers narrowly missed his shoulder harness as Ricardo shoved him away.

Javier recovered and slammed his fist into Ethan’s jaw. Stars exploded in his head and he tasted blood. Javier hauled on his left arm, forcing Ethan’s hand down on the table.

“Hold him!” Cordova snarled.

Ethan struggled and strained, but tied to the chair, was no match for the two men. Cordova reached into the toolbox then stepped forward, a hammer and a large nail in his hand. Ethan swallowed hard.

With a vicious grin plastered on his face, Cordova set the nail on the back of Ethan’s hand and brought the hammer down.

Blinding pain cut through him and shot up his arm. He snarled in agony. The nail buried into the back of his hand and firmly pinned him to the table. White hot fire radiated up his wrist.

They released him, stepping back a pace. Ethan lowered his head, struggling to breathe properly and fighting to remember his martial arts training in order to control the pain. He had studied Tae Kwon Do since child
hood.

Ethan focused his attention on his bonds. It could have been his desperate imagination
, but the ropes on his right arm seemed looser.

“Now, Lancaster, I need to find out exactly what your people know. How much information did you give them? What are they planning?”

Ethan lifted his head and spat the blood from his mouth. “Go to hell.”

Cordova laughed. “I had hoped you would be difficult.” He slammed the hammer down, shattering Ethan’s little finger.

Ethan snarled, his automatic reflex was to yank his hand back, but the nail held firmly and only caused more agony. His vision blurred.

With a nod from Cordova, Javier hauled the battery closer and handed the cables to him. Ricardo ripped Ethan’s shirt completely off his body then dumped a large container of water over him. Sweet Jesus, this was going to hurt.

“When is the bust planned?”

Ethan said nothing, gulping a deep breath. Cordova pressed the metal ends of the cable against Ethan’s chest. The electrical shock ripped through his body, clenching every muscle, threatening to stop his heart. An agonized cry escaped him.

The questions and corresponding punishments continued, alternating between the hammer breaking his fingers, then the bones in his arm, and the electrical current searing through his body.

S
till, Ethan refused to speak.

“I didn’t think this would work,” Cordova growled. “But that’s just fine by me.” He grabbed Rochelle. She screamed, sobbing for Cordova’s forgiveness.

“Jesus, no,” Ethan whispered, trying to fight back the pain wrenching through him. Sweat and blood streamed into the burn wounds on his chest.

Cordova lips stretched in a terrifying smile.

For the first time in his life, Ethan’s heart sent a terrified prayer to the heavens.
Please, God, if you’re really there, please get Rochelle out of this. I don’t care what happens to me, but get her out of this.

How could this be happening? How could Ethan fail Rochelle so terribly? He had sworn to protect
her, but his actions would now cost Rochelle her life.

Ethan’s gut clenched in horror and he fought desperately against his bonds as Cordova lifted the hammer.

Rochelle screamed. “Help me, please!”

Cordova slammed the hammer into Rochelle’s head.

“No!” Ethan roared.

Rochelle dropped to the ground, blood soaking her hair and spattering her face.

“No, dear God, no.” Ethan closed his eyes. He knew he would not live to see the sun rise. Rochelle’s screams would haunt him for all eternity - in his own private hell.

Three Months Later
             

Why was I the one to survive?

Ethan Lancaster could not dismiss the plaguing question as he parked his car in the underground parking lot of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms in New York City. A miracle had happened at the abandoned warehouse - but in truth, Ethan saw it as a curse.

Ethan’s team leader, Tony, had learned of the traitor in the department and questioned him. That’s why he wasn’t at his desk when Ethan had called. But the moment Tony received Ethan’s message, he knew Ethan and Rochelle would be in trouble.

Tony and Rick gathered the
team and brought in a special ops unit to attack the warehouse. Ethan, barely clinging to awareness, had managed to free himself during the distraction. He dragged an unconscious Rochelle out, but received three bullets in his chest in the process. Outside the warehouse, he had collapsed. Before he lost consciousness, he watched Cordova kill David and Tony. He had been unable to move, unable to help them.

While his team members called the rescue a miracle, Ethan disagreed. He shouldn’t be alive right now. The doc said he had flat lined during emergency surgery to remove the bullets
, but somehow he had lived. He had survived while Rochelle had died of massive head trauma en-route to the hospital. The corresponding shoot out had cost Tony and David their lives. Ethan had lost two very dear friends.

Why couldn’t he have died instead of Rochelle? Instead of David and Tony? Why was he left alive with burn and bullet scars on his chest and back. His left arm was mangled and nearly useless – an injury that threate
ned to end his career.

Why had his captain asked Ethan
to come to the office even though he was still on medical leave?

Ethan tried to dismiss the nagging questions and guilt plaguing him. He had one solace in the face of his pain and loss. Cordova had been arrested on that terrible day. He would stand trial for his crimes. Ethan climbed out of his car and locked the door, his left arm throbbing in its brace.

Striding slowly to the elevator, something on the ground caught his eye and he hesitated.

A single red rose lay on the cement.

He scowled. What was a rose doing in the middle of a parking garage? Perhaps one of the secretaries had a birthday or anniversary and dropped it from a flower arrangement. He picked it up, noticing it’s perfect bloom. Holding it to his nose, he inhaled deeply, its sweet scent filling him. A sharp thorn jabbed his finger and he winced. Ethan carefully shifted the rose to his left hand and looked at the large drop of blood. He stuck his finger in his mouth then continued on to the elevator.

Arriving at his office floor, he stepped off the elevator. The secretary, a woman in her mid-forties looked up and blinked at him twice.

“Ethan Lancaster,” Doris said, breaking into a warm smile. “Good Lord, it’s great to see you. We didn’t expect you back for another three months.”

He returned her grin. “Hi, Doris, I’m not back officially yet. The captain called and said he wanted to talk to me.”

“It’s been awfully boring here without you. How’s the arm?”

“Doing okay. How are Ralph and the kids?”

She simply rolled her eyes, telling Ethan all he needed to know. He chuckled and impulsively handed her the rose. “Something to brighten your day, Doris.”

“It’s beautiful, Ethan, thank you.” She removed a plastic flower from a vase on her desk and replaced it with the rose.

“Watch out, it’s got some sharp thorns.” He hesitated and winked at her. “Don’t get any ideas because I’m giving you flowers now.”

Doris laughed. “Get off it, Lancaster, I’ve been married fifteen years, have six kids, and one hell of a mortgage. Now if you had walked in here with two tickets to Vegas, then I might get ideas.”

He joined her laugh, feeling a little better.

“The captain’s in his office.”

He nodded and strode away.

Walking past familiar cubicles, a few people stepped out and greeted him warmly with a handshake. His cubicle, which he rarely had occasion to use because he worked undercover so much, was on the other side of the room and he had no desire to visit. His heart twisted as he approached the last section. One had been Tony’s. The next, directly across the aisle, was his partner’s, Rick Gunther. Rick had been wounded in the shootout
, but not seriously. The cubicle next to Tony’s had been David’s, the new kid Tony had been training. Ethan’s step hesitated as he passed by David’s cubicle. It was empty with a clean desk and a blank computer.

Ethan swallowed hard and continued to Tony’s cubicle. The clutter he had become familiar with was gone. The man with dark hair, shot with gray, and who always wore a rumpled suit, had been replaced by someone much younger. The young man studied his computer screen intently. He seemed to sense Ethan’s presence and turned.

“Hello,” he said, surprised. “May I help you?”

Ethan
felt an instant of panic. “Uh...no thanks. Just on my way to see the captain.”

The young man, with brown hair, glanced at the ID Ethan wore on his jacket and his
hazel eyes widened. “You’re Lancaster?” He bounded to his feet, shaking Ethan’s hand. “I’m Scott Leonard. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Uh, go
od to meet you, Leonard.”

“I just transferred here last month. That Cordova case you pulled off was something else.”

Ethan’s gut twisted and he tried to retreat.

“Ethan,” a deep voice said. “How are you?”

Ethan turned, surprised to see Rick Gunther standing right behind him. He appeared as if he had aged a decade; his blond hair streaked with more gray, the lines on his face deeper.

“Rick,” Ethan said, shaking the man’s hand. His grip remained as firm as ever. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“I returned last week. They actually gave me a promotion. Can you believe it?” He gestured to Leonard. “This is my new partner. I get the singular honor of training him.” His lips tugged upward slightly, but Ethan could still see the grief in his dark brown eyes. Rick and Tony had been very close, along with their families. Both of them had welcomed Ethan with open arms into family celebrations and holidays.

David, being the new kid, had also been welcomed into the family unit. He had a young wife and a toddler. Ethan clearly recalled last their last Christmas celebration at Tony’s house. Seven adults and a hoard of children. Ethan had helped David’s little girl walk across the living room while her tiny fists clutched tightly to his fingers. All the while, half a dozen kids raced around them, yelling and whooping.

Bitter pain swelled within him when his gaze stopped on the photos in Rick’s cubicle of his wife and three kids. Tony had two children and David his toddler - all who called him Uncle Ethan and whom he had loved as if they were his own.

Rick remained silent, staring at him, while Leonard rambled effusively
, but Ethan barely caught his words, lost in painful memories. He finally snapped to the present when Leonard asked a question.

“Uh...no,” Ethan
stammered. “I’m not returning just yet. If you’ll excuse me, the captain is waiting. Nice meeting you.” He quickly retreated.

Rick followed him and stopped Ethan a pace away. “Ethan, no one blames you for this,” he whispered.

“No one?” Ethan asked bitterly. “I do, Rick. I blame me for this.” He tried to pull away.

“Damn it, man, it wasn’t your fault.” He paused and sighed heavily. “Katie wants you to come to dinner. She’s worried about you and the kids miss you. We’re having a little get together for everyone. Tony and David’s families will be there.”

Ethan shook his head stubbornly. “I made that mistake before, Rick. Tony and David...their families don’t want anything to do with me now. I won’t ruin your gathering by showing up and making everyone uncomfortable.”

“They didn’t mean to hurt you at the funeral. They were grieving, Ethan. They didn’t realize what they were doing.”

“Rick, Emily reached for me from her mother’s arms. Donna yelled at her for it and the baby started crying. I’m not going to do that to her again. Emily didn’t understand why her mother scolded her, or why her
E-tan
turned his back and walked away. She’s not even old enough to understand why her daddy is never coming back.” He paused and drew in a shaky breath, his heart threatening to break. “Tell Katie I said thank you and give her my love, but I won’t be coming this time.” He quickly departed, feeling a terrible weight descend over him.

Captain Edwards had a real office with windows in the back corner. Ethan knocked and Edwards waved him inside.

“Good to see you, Lancaster,” he said and shook Ethan’s hand. “How are you?”

“Hi, Cap,” Ethan replied, forcing a smile. “I’m doing okay.”

“Have a seat.” Edwards returned to his chair. “How’s the arm?”

Ethan shrugged. “Four surgeries so far. Honestly, Cap, the doctors aren’t that hopeful. Cordova shattered every bone in my arm and hand. They say I’m lucky they didn’t have to amputate. I don’t know if I’ll be able to return to field work.”

“I know you’d hate a desk job, Lancaster, but there are some rookies who would really benefit from your experience.”