Zepeda had already sent his own report, together with both Zach’s and Natalie’s depositions and video files of their debriefings, to the Operations Directorate at the Justice Department. By the time Zach got to Washington tomorrow, Pearce and the brass in the OD would have lots of questions for him.
He walked into the hotel’s lobby, where he saw Natalie’s friends—Marc, Gabe, and Joaquin. Were they waiting for him?
Three sets of eyes turned his way, and the men stood.
Yeah, they were waiting for him.
Zach had heard about Joaquin from Natalie, but she hadn’t mentioned the other two. So he’d taken a few minutes to dig up a little intel. Hunter was an undisputed badass—a decorated Special Forces sniper, former DEA agent, ex-con. He now worked as a SWAT sniper for the Denver PD. Rossiter was a former park ranger and paramedic who’d made a name for himself in the world of extreme sports. Both were married—a fact that had made Zach more willing to tolerate their territorial attitude where Natalie was concerned.
You should be glad they’re so protective of her.
Yes, he supposed he should be. But why did they seem to think they had to protect her fromhim? Hadn’t he just saved her life?
“McBride.” Hunter reached out his hand. “I just wanted to thank you for all you did to help Natalie. When we heard the Zetas had her, we thought we’d never see her again.”
Zach took Hunter’s hand, gave as firm a shake as he got. “She deserves a lot of credit for that. She had to help me escape before I could help her.”
Rossiter stuck out his hand next. “She’s a fighter, but we know she wouldn’t be here without your help. Thank you.”
Then it was Joaquin’s turn. He held out his hand, his emotions plain on his face. “I never would have been able to forgive myself if she’d been hurt. Thank you for doing what I couldn’t do. Thanks for keeping her safe.”
Zach knew it had been hard for Joaquin to say this. It would be hard for any man. “She never blamed you for what the Zetas did, and neither should you.”
Joaquin nodded. “I tell myself that, but . . .”
An awkward silence filled the space between them.
“It was good to meet you all. I’ve got a plane to catch first thing in the morning.” Zach turned to go, then stopped and looked back. “Natalie is a special woman. I’m glad she has such good friends. Take care of her.”
“Oh, we will. Don’t you doubt it.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chest. “And while we’re on the subject, we know your relationship with her crossed a line. We were there for about an hour before we moved up the hill.”
It took a second for Hunter’s meaning to sink in.
Son of a bitch.
That right there explained the territorial attitude.
Zach turned and faced Hunter head-on. “Natalie’s well past the age of consent. She’s smart enough to know what she wants—and whom.”
Rossiter shook his head. “She’d just been through hell and was completely dependent on you for her life. A woman in that situation is bound to be vulnerable and easy to manipulate. You should’ve kept your pants on until you—”
Zach’s temper flashed white-hot. “If you’re suggesting that she was coerced in some way, then you don’t know her very well. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that I know her better than you do at this point. If you all care so much about her, then why do none of you have a clue what happened to her during Hurricane Katrina?”
The three men stared at him, blinked.
Then as abruptly as it had come, Zach’s anger faded. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention what you saw out there to anyone. Be gentlemen and keep it to yourselves.”
Joaquin glared at him. “Like you were a gentleman?”
He has a point, man.
Hunter put a restraining hand on Joaquin’s shoulder. “No need to worry on that account, McBride. I’m not even going to tell my wife, because if I do . . . Well, let’s just say that the I-Team women have a way of sharing one another’s secrets.”
Rossiter cleared his throat. “Kat knows, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s that way.”
Zach met each man’s gaze in turn. “Thanks. I care about Natalie more than you know.”
Then, feeling hollow, he turned and walked away.