"Cut the crap, Rocco."

He spun, walking backward. "No crap to cut. I wouldn't change a damn thing. I saved her life. I'll chalk it up to my good deed of the week. Let her bust my balls."

"Don't. She doesn't want to see you." Jared's face was tight. "I'm sorry."

He hurt like hell because the woman he loved couldn't even tell him to his face that it was over. Screw that.

"Rocco." Mia's professional face faltered. "It's not you, and it's not over. You just need to give her a chance to sort things out."

"But-"

"Rocco, look man, given... how everything is, you've just gotta walk away. Give her a day. Or something. Don't make me toss your ass out of here. Trust me on this one. Just do the right thing."

His jaw hung open. "You're telling me that's... to walk away. You want me to walk the fuck away."

Boss Man blew out. "I need you to."

Rocco slapped the door. Fuck it. "Totally fine. I don't give a shit. I'm gonna go home. Watch some Duck Dynasty. Work out. Get back to a normal freakin' life. No head trips. No women making themselves at home. Nothing."

"Roc-"

He punched a vending machine on the way out, accidentally shutting Mia up in the process, but not giving a fuck. Sure, he would hear about that from Winters later, but screw it.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.

Antiseptic and pancakes. Caterina woke, groggy and uncomfortable. In the background, the sounds of everyday life unfolded. Sugar was laughing. Jared was laughing. Their adopted daughter, Asal, was laughing. Everyone seemed to be having a great Saturday morning. She'd had no place to go after she'd left the hospital-well, she could have gone home, but she couldn't face Rocco-so she's asked Jared and Sugar to borrow a guest bedroom. Even that was a mistake. Clutching her stomach, Caterina wanted to fade away. Life was just too complicated.

Knock. Knock. She didn't answer, but why would that stop Sugar? It was her house after all. And even if it weren't, Caterina didn't think Sugar cared much for permissions.

"Up and at 'em, Senorita."

Caterina rolled over. "Later."

"Thought you might say that." Sugar flounced on the bed. "Pancake. Eat."

"Not hungry."

"Don't care."

"Sugar, seriously."

"If you don't want to eat, let's call Rocco."

God she wanted to call Rocco, and she would just die if he walked in and gathered her into his arms. He might just make it all better. But no, who was she kidding? Nothing would be all better. This was life, her new reality. She was happy about it-she had to be. No excuse for not being... Really, she had to get out of there, further away from him so she wouldn't be tempted. "Fine. I'll eat."

Sugar shook her head. "Does you no good to run from him.

She hmm-ed.

"He would absolutely understand."

Understand. Ha... "Maybe. Maybe not."

"He loves you."

"Me, yes. Agree. But what I've done..."

"Oh, Senorita. That's insane. You haven't done anything."

"Maybe that's the other half of the problem. I never do anything. Things happen to me. I try but fail."

"You're emotional. Not thinking straight. Eat. Food is fuel, and you need your strength. Then call."

She had to get out of there. "Fine. Maybe." Agree or the conversation would never end. "Eat. Then call."

"Mommy!" Asal called from the hall.

Sugar tossed Cat a cell phone and went out the door, just as Caterina's mom used to do when she was that age. Laughter erupted followed by too much fun, too much family and love for her to handle. Caterina ached on so many levels. She chewed a few pancakes, not tasting but knowing she needed to eat, and then stared at the phone.

The one good thing about never having a permanent residence was that Caterina never had the ability to store important documents and files. She'd never received a bank statement or had a check book. Everything was wireless, and everything was memorized, including her bank account numbers and contact lists. She picked up the phone, dialed her favorite North American mover, wired her funds, and had a seat on a cargo plane that would wait for her, just soon as she could wander away from Le Casa De Westin.

Asal Westin waved from the fence line, and Caterina knew Jared would kick her ass for pulling a move like this if he ever looked for her, which didn't seem like a realistic possibility. Caterina had offered to play outside with their kid, and reaching the edge of the property without setting off too many alarms, she asked Asal to count backward from one hundred before telling her parents thank you for the hospitality.

Feeling like crap on every possible level, Caterina broke into a jog, breathing through the pain in her shoulder, stomach, and heart, and finally she pushed to a run, going until she hit a road with traffic. It took her a few minutes to catch her breath and look less like the psycho she apparently was, then stuck out her thumb. The first trucker who saw her hit the brakes, and minutes later, she was headed toward a highway before Jared and Sugar could say leaving was a bad idea.

"You running from something?" The trucker seemed nice enough. Mostly looking for company. "Lots of times I see women running, they're trying to get safe."

"No." More like keeping someone away from her.

"Where ya from, anyway?"

"Puerto Rico." She lied. Why tell him Spain? There was the slightest chance that Titan, or more specifically, Rocco, would track her. She didn't need to make it easy for anyone. Maybe he would just give up.

"Puerto Rico." He nodded. "I had a girlfriend from Puerto Rico once."

The trucker continued to recount his stories of Latin lovers and his appreciation for accents. Rocco loved the way she sounded, and she never told him, but the way he sounded, all American and alpha... He was perfect. Time passed with each new trucker tale until she waved goodbye at a strip mall near the airstrip. She walked along the road, through a security gate, and boarded a waiting cargo plane. Her seat was between wooden pallets, and it would be a long flight. At least she had a small bag from Asal packed with the pancakes they had needed while they played and explored.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.

A week had passed since Rocco had seen Jared. No jobs were on the books, so there was no reason for Boss Man to blow up his phone. Finally, a text came through. One look and he hit redial.

Rocco's lunched about heaved on the floor. "What do you mean, have I seen Caterina?"

"She left." Jared sighed. "She grabbed a handful of pancakes, went outside with my kid, and never came back."

"So... she left."

"Maybe she's headed your way?"

Rocco shook head. "Yeah, no. She would've just borrowed a car."

"Look, Roc, there's something you need-"

"You know what, Boss Man? No. There's nothing I need to do. I am tired of letting others call the shots. Letting her say, I'm done. Letting Mia say she needs space. Whatever. Fine. Everyone can say what they want, and I've had enough of not saying shit."

"Roc-"

"I'll call you later."

"Rocco-"

"What goddamn it? You wanna tell me to give her space? To be her friend? Whatever you want to say, shove it. I'm going to find her, and she can say it to my face. She's pissed I killed the fucker. Fine. She can say it. She hates me for ruining some lifelong dream of murder. Whatever. It's true. She was gonna die. So I don't give a fuck. Bye."

He walked into his room-their room-and grabbed a bag. He wasn't coming home without her. A promise. A vow, and damn, he sounded like a crazy stalker, but that was what had to happen. She loved him. He knew deep down in his soul that she loved him. And he would talk her ear off until she remembered, then he make love to her until she screamed his name-well, soon as she'd wrapped her head around the idea of sex again. That was his plan. Getting from their relationship's point A to point B had a lot of logistical questions, but those could be figured out along the way.

Bag packed with a few changes of clothes, he grabbed a box of granola bars and his passport on the way to his truck. He had no freakin' idea where he was going. Rocco jumped into his truck, threw the gear shifter in drive, and peeled down the driveway. First up, call Parker. He reached for his phone. Wasn't in his pocket or on the dash. Not in his bag. He remembered throwing it aside to pack. Hell, he wasn't turning around for a phone. If he needed one, he'd buy a burner.

Before he knew it, Rocco had parked at Dulles International Airport and was staring at the listing of out bound flights. London. London. London. Several options. He needed the quickest one.

Standing in line took forever, and no doubt, scratched the earliest flight off the list of possibilities. Commercial flights were a nightmare. Finally, he made it to the top of the line and was directed to a kiosk. He punched the buttons. Check-in flights. Change flights. Where was departing flights? He looked up at the girl manning the counter, advising a dozen kiosks on where their gates were and strapping baggage claim stickers on suitcases.

"Excuse me? Emergency over here."

Kiosk Lady put up a finger, and Rocco cursed. He wouldn't make any of these flights. He'd memorized every flight to London by the time she waltzed over, smile painted on and flirting a bit too much.

"I need to get to London, ASAP."

"You don't have a ticket?" Confusion slowed her flirtation.

Come on, already. "No ticket." He waved his passport and a wad of cash and credit cards. "But I do have this, so make it happen."

Looking at his hand, then him, a saccharine look crossed her face like this was some romantic movie, and he was the hero chasing down the girl. "Is this about a girl?"

For Christ's sake...Well, that was kind of true, and Kiosk Lady seemed happy about it. "Yes. Help me."

He'd go along with her delusion of what might be happening, no need to mention killing off a terrorist who'd raped his woman. Fuck. The urge to maim tore through his veins again. He breathed it out, trying like crazy to keep his head.

She typed on her computer. "Hmmm...."

Hmm? He was about to jump the security line and board a plane by force. He could fly almost anything. A commercial plane wouldn't be a problem. "Tell me you got something." Otherwise, he would carjack a jetliner. Titan would make the news. Jared would be pissed after trying to help Rocco get out of that little problem. "It's really important."

"I'm sorry. Nothing available until-"

He rubbed his forehead. "I've got to get to my girl. Have to."

A few more types and clicks. "I really want to help. There just aren't any seats until tomorrow."

"I'll try another-"

"I checked all carriers leaving here today." Her sweet smile made him want to punch the screen. "But tomorrow-"

His head lowered, his shoulders slouched, and defeat mocked him. Rocco turned, ready to kick his negative thoughts and find another plan of attack. How hard could it be to get a plane to Europe? How sure was he she was going home?

Home.

Home... wasn't London.

He raced back to the front of the line, cutting in front of a much older couple dripping in money. The man mumbled something about diamond-platinum status. Whatever. "Spain. Can you get me to Spain?"

The airline woman's smile faltered as she silently apologized to the couple he'd stepped in front of. "Sir-"

"Get me to Spain. Today."

"I was helping our premier guests." She all but curtsied, trying to make her apology stretch on his behalf.

"I have to get to her."

Another curtsey, apology thing to the premier people, and she focused on him, if for no other reason than to get rid of him. He knew that and didn't care.

"Um, do you have a particular city?"

Shit. Geography would kick his ass today. Where had Titan worked? Where did she say she'd lived? He was going to-what-wander around a country until he spotted her?

Think...

Southeastern Spain. Near Algeria. "Grenada. Murcia. Valencia. Just get me in that neck of the woods." He closed his eyes for a second, praying to God whatever she typed would give him a shot at finding Caterina. "Please. Just..." He cracked his knuckles and realized how quiet it was around him. Rocco looked over his shoulder. Dozens of people watched him. "I have to get there."

"Murcia?"

"Done. I'll take it."

She frowned, looking at her wrist watch. "You'll be cutting it close."

The hoity-toity premier woman butted in, her gray hair coiffed but her eyes dancing with the thrill of his moment. "Look at him. This boy can run. Get him that ticket."