Honor Avenged (HORNET)

by Tonya Burrows

  She shook her head. “I’m tired of always having to figure it out alone.”

  He had to touch her. It was a bad idea, but he couldn’t stand to see her suffering alone when he could offer the comfort of a shoulder to cry on. He pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, much like she had that night he didn’t like to think about. The night they’d almost done something in a haze of grief that they both would have regretted. He shouldn’t be touching her like this. And he sure as fuck shouldn’t want to touch her in other ways.

  He breathed in her scent and the answering tug deep in his stomach told him to back off before his body betrayed him.

  God. How was it possible for something so wrong to feel so good?

  She tucked her face against his chest. She felt small and fragile in his arms, but he knew better. She was tougher than her looks let on. After his mother, she was the strongest woman he knew and since joining HORNET, he’d gone to battle with some kickass women guarding his six. Leah, with her quiet strength, blew them all out of the water.

  He held on too long, couldn’t make himself let go. When she finally lifted her gaze to his, all soft and grateful, his heart all but tripped over itself. He had kissed her once—just once—that night he didn’t like to think about, but the memory of her sweet lips on his had haunted him ever since. He wanted another taste and, because of that, his hatred for himself ran marrow deep. Yes, he was an asshole. He was selfish and greedy. He was a horrible human being and the worst kind of friend.

  But, God help him, he was going to kiss her anyway.

  Chapter Eight

  Leah’s breath hitched at the flare of heat in Marcus’s dark eyes. He was going to kiss her. He broadcasted his intentions loud and clear, giving her plenty of time to back away. She should back away.

  She didn’t.

  She leaned in, lifting her face toward his, her fingers curling into the material of his shirt. His breath feathered over her lips…

  He pulled away, jolting like someone had stuck him with an electric prod. The disappointment was crushing as she unwound her fingers from his shirt and took a step back, and that surprised her. She’d never been with anyone except her husband, had never wanted to kiss anyone but Danny. But she had wanted Marcus to kiss her just now.

  Ah, there it was. The guilt. It closed around her lungs and squeezed.

  “I’m sorry,” Marcus said, his voice raw.

  She tried to breathe. Tried not to cry, though she didn’t know if the tears threatening were from his rejection or the guilt of wanting him to kiss her. Tried to smile, to reassure him all was fine. “You don’t have to apologize. I—”

  Wanted it.

  Oh God. She was a horrible person. What kind of woman kisses her late husband’s best friend?

  “I-It’s…okay,” she finished dumbly, but Marcus was no longer paying attention to her. He tensed up and shushed her with the wave of one hand. Indignation heated her cheeks until she realized he wasn’t quieting her to avoid talking about what just almost happened. He seemed to be listening for something outside the walls of the bungalow. She closed her mouth without uttering a sound and listened, too. Nothing except the soft splash of waves, the thrum of insects, and her own foolish, deceitful heart thumping too loud and hard.

  “What’s wrong?” she finally asked, keeping her voice low.

  He shook his head but didn’t relax. “I don’t know. Did you bring anyone here with you?”

  “No. I’m alone. The kids are with your mom.”

  He crossed to his bed and dragged a beat-up metal lockbox from underneath. She wasn’t surprised to see the gun inside. She was surprised that he’d gone for it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He checked the weapon, then grabbed an extra box of ammo and stuffed it into the side pocket of his board shorts. “Why are you here?”

  She opened her mouth, but never got the chance to reply. A footstep creaked on the porch a half second before the door flew off its hinges. Marcus grabbed her and shoved her behind him, but it didn’t matter. There were two of them, both dressed in black battle gear and ski masks. The bigger of the two went after Marcus and the second guy lunged for her.

  There was no room to run, to fight, to maneuver in the small space. The man caught her around the waist and dragged her from the bungalow. She tried to see what was happening inside, but it was too dark. All shadows and fast movements. Then the gun fired, popping like a firecracker inside a metal can. Her heart lodged in her throat.

  Marcus!

  She kicked at her captor and landed a solid blow to his balls. His legs buckled, and his grip around her waist loosened. She ripped out of his hold and ran toward the bungalow, her feet sinking into the sand. Marcus staggered out. His nose was bleeding and he held one arm across his ribs, but his other hand was up, the gun aimed. He didn’t hesitate and fired. She whirled to see her attacker collapse face-first into the sand, blood spouting rhythmically from a hole in his neck.

  Marcus half staggered, half jumped down from the porch. He released his hold on his ribs to grab her hand and yanked her along behind him. He gritted his teeth like each step pained him. “What the fuck is this, Leah?”

  “I-I—” Her mind was blank.

  She should’ve told him right away, but she honestly hadn’t thought they’d follow her. How could they have known she was coming here, to this speck of an island nobody but surfers had ever heard of?

  And then her mind not only clicked back online but zipped into hyperdrive. If they had found her here…

  Her heart threatened to pound out of her chest. She tried to pull him to a stop, but he was too strong. “Oh my God. Your mom. The kids.”

  He yanked her around to face him. His dark eyes blazed anger. “What’s going on?”

  “I told you I needed your help!”

  “You didn’t tell me it was because armed mercs were after you.”

  Her own temper sparked against his. “You didn’t give me a chance!”

  “Jesus.” He let go of her and stalked down the beach, but then froze and swore under his breath. Before she could react, he whirled around and grabbed her again, marching her back toward his bungalow. She resisted. She didn’t want to go back, didn’t want to see the bodies of the men he’d killed.

  But then she spotted the other four men running toward them and realized she’d rather take her chances with the dead. She fell into step beside Marcus. He didn’t return to the bungalow but zagged around it and plunged into the jungle beyond.

  It went from dusk to midnight in an instant, and Leah’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness caused by the thick foliage overhead. When she could see again, she realized Marcus wasn’t plunging recklessly into the jungle after all. There was a thin, winding path. Not much of one, but still it gave her a sense of comfort to know he wasn’t dragging her into the jungle without a direction.

  A shadow stepped into their path, the outline of a gun in its hand.

  Marcus skidded to a halt, his gun coming up. But he was too late and they both knew it. The shadow had plenty of time to shoot them in the endless second it took Marcus to level his own weapon.

  “Hey, hey,” the shadow said and raised one hand in a halt gesture. “It’s okay.”

  The shadow figure was…a woman? Leah looked to Marcus for instruction, unsure how she should react.

  “Mercedes Raya.” He didn’t lower his gun. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  The shadow woman scoffed. “C’mon, Deangelo. If I had wanted you dead, I could’ve killed you months ago. Instead I called your boss to drag your sorry drunk ass out of the snow before you froze to death. I think that means you owe me.”

  After another tense moment, he relaxed marginally but still didn’t completely lower his weapon. He hitched his chin toward the beach. “How do I know you aren’t with the dead
guys in my cabin?”

  “Maybe because I’ve been here all along?” she suggested and gave a snarky little wave as she moved closer. “Howdy, neighbor.”

  “You followed me.”

  “Of course I followed you. Defion wants me dead, and they want you dead. The enemy of my enemy and all that jazz. I figured they’d come after you sooner or later, and I wanted to be here when they did.”

  “I’m sorry,” Leah interrupted. “Is this really the best time for a chat? Did we forget about the men with guns chasing us?”

  Mercedes was close enough that Leah could now make out the details of her face. She would have been pretty if not for the hardness in her eyes. Instead, she was intimidating. She gave Leah a short, dismissive up-down then returned her attention to Marcus. “How many are there?”

  “Six. I neutralized two.”

  “We can take them. Who are they? Defion?”

  Marcus glanced at Leah, and there was no missing the anger still burning in his eyes. “Don’t know for sure but don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so.” Mercedes sounded doubtful. “Who else wants you dead?”

  Both of them looked at Leah. She shook her head in disbelief. Were they really going to just stand around gabbing when people were chasing them with guns? “Does it matter right now?”

  Mercedes lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Nah, suppose not.”

  Without a word, Marcus turned away and scanned the path behind them. “She’s right. We gotta move.”

  He took Leah’s hand and pulled her around Mercedes.

  Mercedes scoffed. “You’re just gonna run? You don’t want the whos, whats, whys? We can take them!”

  “Not putting Leah at risk like that.”

  Whoa. He wasn’t going to get answers because of her? No. She wouldn’t be a burden like that. And she damn well wanted answers, too. She tried to pull him to a stop and got dragged several steps. She managed to rip her hand out of his grip and dug her heels in. “Can you really take them?”

  Marcus stopped walking. His sigh moved his shoulders before he turned around. He met Mercedes’s gaze over her shoulder, then sighed again. “Probably.”

  “Definitely,” Mercedes corrected. They both ignored her.

  Leah touched Marcus’s face and waited until his angry gaze met hers. “Listen, I know you’re pissed at me. You think this has something to do with me, and it does but—I don’t know why. I don’t know much more than you. Only that someone attacked me at work two days ago, then again at your mom’s house that night. I feared for my kids and didn’t know who else to turn to. I want answers, so if you can get them now, do it.”

  Marcus stared at her for a long second, then lifted his gaze to Mercedes. He gave a short nod, then gripped her shoulders. “You will not follow us. Stay on this path until you reach town.” He pointed toward the west. “Go to the surf camp and tell them I sent you. Stay there until I come for you. Do you understand?”

  Oh God. He was going back to face the gunmen with a woman he obviously didn’t fully trust. What had she done?

  “Do you understand?” he asked again.

  Unable to form a word around the lump in her throat, she nodded.

  He snaked a hand around the back of her neck and dragged her toward him. He kissed her, hard and fast, before letting her go and motioning to Mercedes. “Let’s move.”

  Mercedes smirked at her and followed.

  Leah watched until the darkness swallowed them up. Oh God, she thought again. What did I just do?

  If he was injured—or, worse, killed—she’d never forgive herself.

  She took several steps after him before she realized how unwise that was. He was armed. And trained. She was neither. The best thing she could do for him now was to follow his instructions.

  She picked her way up the path, straining her ears for any sounds of a fight behind her. She heard nothing. No more gunshots. She didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

  When the jungle opened up and she reached the clearing of the surf camp, she hesitated. Lights blazed all around the wooden shacks that made up the camp.

  She didn’t know these people, didn’t speak the local language. Wasn’t it just as likely they’d shoot her, a strange blond woman appearing on their doorstep, looking like she’d been dragged through the jungle? What if they didn’t understand she needed help?

  But Marcus knew them. He wouldn’t send her somewhere dangerous.

  She took a step out into the clearing and then another. But stopped again. Something still told her…

  She backed up.

  This wasn’t right. She’d never seen the camp before, but she’d visited plenty of others around the world with Danny. Their honeymoon had been nothing but a string of surf camps. All of these lights blazing like this? It wasn’t right.

  Several shadows moved near one of the shacks—and one stepped out into a pool of light for only an instant. Black combat gear. Just like the attackers from the beach.

  And Mercedes had come from this direction, hadn’t she?

  No.

  Marcus!

  Leah whirled around and crashed back into the jungle, unconcerned with the noise she was making. She had no doubt they already knew exactly where she was.

  She burst onto the beach and spotted Marcus on his knees in the middle of a circle of mercenaries, hands held up, a gun pointed at his head. Mercedes held that gun.

  For a moment, Leah froze. She thought about Danny dying on a lovely Caribbean beach. She didn’t know the details, had never asked. Had it ended like this for him? Would she and Marcus now meet the same fates? Her knees wobbled. She lost her balance and dropped to her knees in the sand just as Mercedes turned.

  “Sorry,” Mercedes said, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

  “You backstabbing bitch,” Leah whispered. “You lied to us.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  “It’s okay,” Marcus said, trying to be soothing, but fuck that. He had a gun to his head, and she was not about to lose him like she’d lost her husband.

  “Is this about the flash drive?” She fished it out of her pocket, held it out. “Let us go and you can have it. I never looked at it. I didn’t want any part of any of this to begin with.”

  An excited stir went through the mercenaries, but she had no idea what they said. They weren’t speaking English. Russian maybe?

  Mercedes’s eyes widened. She looked down at Marcus, then motioned for two of the guys in black to restrain him. She strode forward and held out a hand. “Give it to me.”

  Leah hesitated, for the first time wondering if she was making the right choice. No, of course she was. If it saved her and Marcus’s lives, giving up the drive was worth the chance.

  Just as she was about to drop the drive into Mercedes’s hand, the other woman spun away and in quick succession shot the two men holding Marcus. Marcus lunged for one of their weapons and took out the third while Mercedes finished off the fourth. It was all so smooth, it looked like a dance. A deadly, well-orchestrated dance.

  “Shit,” Mercedes said and snatched the drive from Leah’s hand. “Way to go, Sunshine. You ruined a good plan.”

  “But you—you were—”

  “Trying to get information from them,” Marcus said. He was still on his knees, but now going through the dead men’s pockets.

  “Dead men can’t talk,” Mercedes said and looked pointedly at the bodies. She gave the drive a flip. “What is this, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. I never looked.”

  “Why do these guys want it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mercedes sighed. “Do you know anything?”

  Leah bit her lip and glanced over at Marcus. He’d stopped riffling through pockets and watched her with unreadable eyes.

  She returned her gaze to
Mercedes. “A man named Alexander Cabot gave it to me after he saved me from more guys like these.”

  Mercedes went very still. For several beats, it didn’t even look like she was breathing. Finally her fingers curled around the drive and she pressed it to her chest over her heart. Her breath hitched when she finally drew one. “Where is he?”

  How much should she say? She still didn’t trust Mercedes. Another uncertain glance at Marcus didn’t give her any clues as to his thoughts on the subject.

  Mercedes got in her face. “Where. Is. He?”

  She motioned to the bodies. “They took him.”

  Leah saw a flash of tears before Mercedes spun away. “Fuck.”

  “Who’s he to you? Another lover?” Marcus asked, bitterness dripping from each word.

  Leah glanced back and forth between them. There was history here, but she couldn’t fathom what it was. Had Marcus and Mercedes been lovers at one time? She didn’t think so. Mercedes wasn’t his type at all. But why else would he have leaned so heavily on the word “lover?”

  “That’s none of your fucking business,” Mercedes snapped.

  “Considering I’ve killed three people tonight because of what he gave to Leah, I’d say it’s very much my business,” he shot back and finally got to his feet. He’d pulled off one of the dead men’s boots and now wore them instead of going barefoot.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Leah interrupted. Someone was ripping through the jungle at her back, coming in fast. No doubt the men from the surf camp. “The camp was overrun. That’s why I came back. I thought Mercedes was with them because she’d come from that direction, but—”

  “They heard those shots,” Marcus finished. “Let’s continue this convo somewhere we’re less likely to get shot, yeah?”

  “No,” Mercedes said. “Hit me. They think I’m with them. Let’s let them go on thinking that.”

  “What if they kill first, ask questions later?”

  “They won’t. Hit me. Knock me out. C’mon,” she goaded when he still hesitated. “It’s not like you haven’t done worse to—”