Guarding Aisha

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Guarding Aisha Page 19

by Zoë Normandie


  And before he knew it, Jake’s fist was clenched again and sailing through the air. It connected squarely with Blackshot’s jaw, sending him staggering backward.

  He wasn’t a fucking hero. He’d lost that title long ago under Blackshot’s reign of terror. It pained Jake to see just how bad things had gotten over the years. Just how much he’d grown to hate what he’d done.

  Shocked, Ryder searched Jake and then Blackshot. Jake knew he was fucking done. He was heading to military prison for sure. You don’t sock your boss in the face in the height of battle and get away with it.

  Ryder frowned and quickly issued an order that Jake would never forget. “Go find Mason,” he said quickly. “Go.”

  Jake turned to leave, but he fell down the first steps of a concrete office stairwell, grabbing onto the handrail to avoid somersaulting over. He looked up and expected to see a smirking Blackshot, but he didn’t. He saw a veteran, crouched down, breathing rapidly, his palm on the stairwell landing for stability. As Blackshot’s gaze met his, Jake saw the same thing he saw in himself: unmanageable flashbacks and pain. They’d both been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and lost friends along the way.

  What the fuck was happening to him? He tried to move back up the stairs to the fifth floor door. He’d lost it again and failed her—again. He got ready to bolt, but his body had frozen, and the present continued to feel hazy. He wasn’t sure he was fully lucid, and he had to dig deep to focus. He had to go after her. He had to find her.

  But a shadow grew in his mind. She was already gone. He’d taken too long. There was no more Aisha.

  Holding onto the railing for dear life, words from a pert, delicious red mouth came to the front of his mind. At a moment when he felt like a total failure, her words reminded him that it’s not how often we fall that’s important, but that we always pick ourselves up. His eyes widened with understanding as he considered her words—and felt her warmth.

  Like she was a lodestar, the world before him became clearer.

  Jake made his way to the landing and looked down at Blackshot, who remained crouched for cover, in another world completely. He pitied him for the first time.

  “He’s got her,” Blackshot murmured to Jake, low and dark.

  “Who? What?” Jake demanded.

  “That European guy she knows.” Blackshot pointed at the doorway. “Charles told me.”

  The two men exchanged glares.

  Jake analyzed the man. “Why are you helping me?”

  “I know I fucked up,” Blackshot coughed out. “I know I wasn’t the leader you needed.”

  Jake grunted back.

  “Fuller,” Blackshot sneered as he tried to get up but failed. “Don’t let him get away with it all. He’s been blackmailing me. He’s got me by the balls with this habit. I know I lost your trust a long time ago, but I need you to trust me on this: the man has big plans, big friends, and he must be stopped before the entire squadron rots.”

  Blackshot’s coal-dark eyes shot up to Jake, and he seemed to come out of it. Jake saw the human in him—just as scared and struggling as he was. Jake had been through so much with that man, and hated him so often along the way. But they’d done it together, survived it together.

  He said to Blackshot, “We must continue moving forward no matter how insane things get.”

  That fleeting connection proved to be everything Jake needed. He finally blasted the lock off the stairwell door and pushed his way through before he lost it again.

  26

  The door to Aisha’s holding cell opened, and Kate appeared, looking distant and upset.

  “Come with me.” Looking around the small room, she motioned for Aisha to follow her. “I apologize for this. I asked them to put you in a room, not a prison cell.”

  Aisha moved quickly behind Kate, not wanting to waste any time. “What’s happening?”

  Kate shook her head, making no reply. As they walked, all Aisha could hear were the distant sounds of men arguing.

  Not far down the hallway, Kate led her into a large boardroom with aging finishes and no windows. The heathered grey carpeting was stained, and the melamine desk was cracked from overuse. As she moved into the room, big hands fell onto her shoulders from behind the door.

  She jumped with a shriek.

  “Many thanks, Kate,” said familiar French voice from behind her.

  Kate nodded. “You have ten minutes before her plane arrives.” And she left, closing the door behind her.

  The hands held her tightly, hurting her, and as she closed her eyes, she knew the worst had happened.

  Leo.

  “What do we have here?” Leo Beaudoin breathed down her neck.

  He spun her around, facing him.

  “I missed you.” He grinned, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

  She squirmed in his grasp, kicking him. Keeping her in front of him, he walked slowly toward the boardroom table. She looked down and saw a marriage license. Beside it lay US naturalized citizen documents for a woman about her age: Aya from Dubai. She reached out to touch the document, but Leo pulled her back, forcing her to turn toward him.

  “Aisha.” He smiled. “Or should I say Aya?”

  “Aya?”

  “These are for you,” Leo explained in a tender voice. “And I have an offer.”

  She blinked, trying to process what that meant.

  “I have to say, I was worried you had taken a liking to your bodyguard.” Leo’s eyes grew dark and hateful. “But I’m dealing with it,” he added bitterly.

  “What does that mean?”

  Leo laughed and looked down at her, touching her nose. “Mon chou, my old friend Charles has kept me up to date on your travels.”

  The name hit Aisha like a bag of bricks. She couldn’t believe it.

  “How did you even…?” Her mouth dropped.

  He pushed it back together. “We worked French intelligence together, and I still throw him a little bone here and there for his help. You can get out, but you’re never really out. And that’s what has brought me here today to make this offer.”

  He tried to pull her closer, but Aisha pushed back, shaking her head.

  “There’s no reason to push me away anymore.” Leo spoke softly to her. “And now my offer. Marry me, and take this identity.”

  She didn’t have to ask him what was at stake. If she refused, he would allow her deportation process to continue.

  “I’m not marrying you.” Aisha tried to push him away again.

  “You will.” His eyes turned cold. “Or you’ll go back to daddy.”

  Aisha looked back and forth between Leo and the marriage license. He was blackmailing her. She shut her eyes and willed herself to breathe.

  She had failed. She’d failed to do it on her own. And now she was right back to where she’d started: imprisonment. Her father’s judging sneer flashed before her eyes. He’d always known she was too weak to go it on her own, and he’d depended on that. She felt more helpless than ever. It was all for naught.

  Leo turned to the desk, but before he could continue, the boardroom door slammed open. Aisha whipped her head around.

  He was there.

  “Jake!” she cried out, but Leo pulled her back and into a bear hug.

  “She’s mine,” he said darkly to Jake. “You’re too late.”

  Jake stepped forth, and Aisha knew he was struggling. His rage had flushed up, and he snarled as he stalked toward Leo.

  “She’s not yours.”

  Leo pushed her in front of him, placing her in a tight hold.

  “She’s marrying me,” Leo said. “I’m the one who has been with her all these years. I’ve put in my time. She owes me.”

  “Did you orchestrate all of this?” Aisha squirmed in his grasp, yelling at him. “Is this what you planned from the beginning?”

  Leo laughed. “No, not quite. But it all worked out in the end, didn’t it, mon chou?”

  The pet name boiled her blood, as it always had—and s
he couldn’t fucking take it anymore. She couldn’t be that helpless, hopeless child, thrown around by a bunch of men who thought they knew what was best for her.

  “I’ll die before I marry you,” she said, her voice becoming unrecognizable.

  She saw the nod that Jake was giving her, and she used the move he’d shown her to disable her captor. This time, she nailed it. She didn’t freeze. With pleasure, she smashed Leo behind her, sending him hurtling back in pain. But before Jake had a chance to knock him out, Leo pull out his pistol and pointed it at Jake.

  “I’ll fucking kill you,” he yelled.

  As Leo pulled the trigger, Jake covered Aisha’s body, and she felt him groan, knowing he was hit. With wide eyes, Leo realized what he’d done and looked up at Aisha. She saw the regret in his eyes, and her face grew disdainful in response.

  “You are a monster,” she spat at him.

  Jake moved her quickly out of the room. They left everything behind. The last thing Aisha heard was Leo calling for Kate, and though she was glad to be back in Jake’s arms, she knew she had no more chances. Her new identity had been left on the table, along with any hope she had in fleeing.

  Now, she was an armed and dangerous fugitive on the run.

  27

  They hurried down the long office hallway, but Jake saw they were boxed in—officials in ICE uniforms were getting out of the elevator between them and the stairwell. Before he had time to think, a door opened behind him, and someone pulled them inside. Holding Aisha close, Jake turned and saw a tall, dark-haired man with black-rimmed reading glasses.

  Aidan King.

  “Get out,” King instructed Jake, motioning to the window at the edge of the room. “Go to Ryder. We’ll figure it out from there.”

  “Ten-four,” Jake replied, and King moved quickly toward the door, locking it as he left.

  Jake had to get her out fast. As the door closed, Jake heard the distinct sound of gunshots and shouting on the fifth floor.

  “Who in god’s name was that?” Aisha cried as he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the window with him.

  “His name is Aidan King,” Jake stated, ripping off the blinds. “He’s the only person in the CIA I fucking trust.”

  He tried prying open the window, but it was locked. He heard voices just outside the room. They were trapped.

  “Fuck.”

  He reached into his hoodie, found his picking tools, and got to work.

  “What are you doing?” she said urgently, but low enough so that her voice wouldn’t echo through the enclosed office.

  Jake grinned and raised his eyebrow at her. It was time to make reparations.

  “Watch.” He began to teach, showing that he believed in her. “You get a hairpin or whatever the fuck and stick it in. Feel upward for where the keys connect with the metal grating.”

  He grabbed her delicate hand and guided it to the picking tool. “Do you feel that?”

  Her eyes moved between him and the lock. “Yes, I think so.”

  And the lock gave out. Aisha pushed the window open with gusto.

  She gave him the grin she wore when she felt useful. Capable. Strong. He felt a connection that he hadn’t experienced since they’d left the ski cottage.

  But before he could get too comfortable with their new escape plan, the fire alarm broke and rang loud.

  Fuckity fuck.

  Shit always went sideways.

  Aisha jumped, and he instinctively grabbed her hand.

  “Jake!” Her voice shook with fear, but she quickly pulled away. Hurt crossed her eyes, and he know he’d done some serious harm.

  She wasn’t okay. And things between them weren’t going to magically fix themselves anytime soon.

  “Shit,” Jake grumbled as a horde of office workers came running down the hallway.

  Jake grabbed a couple jackets off the coat rack not far from where they stood. Pilfering and stealing weren’t his usual MO, but they were talking life or death at this point. A dark-blue hooded raincoat could make all the difference when someone was scanning for a black ponytail and a white athletic zip-up clinging to a tight-as-hell body.

  Jake felt a throbbing stab in his groin, and he stifled a moan. He needed that body. He couldn’t afford to let anyone get their hands on her ever again.

  Game face, buddy, he reminded himself. Bring it down, like, ten notches.

  Regaining full SEAL focus, he jumped out of the window onto a concrete ledge at the back of the building. Loud gunshots popped in the hallway behind them.

  What the fuck is going on?

  Cursing hard, Jake grabbed Aisha by the waist and lifted her out of the window behind him. She squeaked in protest but quickly relented to her fate. He had less than no time. He had the package the gunmen were looking for, and he needed to get her the fuck away from it all.

  They’d be combing through the building to find Aisha, and Jake wasn’t about to let things get bloody. He had to get her the fuck away from Kate, the CIA, ICE, and whoever the fuck those dudes were with dark suits and guns blazing.

  As he pulled his woman across the shadowy concrete ledge, late winter wind whipped at her raised hood on the navy-blue rain jacket. She shimmied across the ledge behind him, and he held her hand like she was going to blow away. He could hear that she was struggling with her breathing again. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she had that ghastly look of someone about to pass the fuck out.

  He didn’t blame her—he was used to that shit, but she probably wasn’t. The concrete ledge finally ended about thirty feet ahead, with the parking structure where Jake had stowed the truck.

  Upon hearing voices on the frozen, snowy ground one floor below, he pressed Aisha back up against the wall, steadying her. He saw fear in her eyes. He saw apprehension. But he also saw trust and—most importantly—he saw courage. She was the bravest woman he’d ever met. There she was, right beside him, staring down whatever they needed to do.

  Fire truck sirens blared on the other side of the office building, near the street. They could also hear the crush of office workers evacuating through the front door, although the crowd would realize there was no fire soon enough. Jake could only imagine how things were looking down there, and he had to trust that Mason and King were sorting things out.

  Jake turned his attention fully to Aisha, and spoke to her in his most reassuring voice. “Breathe. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you now.”

  Ostensibly without options, the faint woman leaned into him in complete submission, closing her eyes as her color returned. She listened and did what he asked, and Jake realized how much of an impact he’d had on her. If he got the chance, he would never take it for granted ever again. If he tried hard, maybe he could confine his commands to the bedroom. No way he was giving up that fantasy.

  As a rogue snowflake danced down from the sky and landed on her mouth, she curved one lip slightly, trying to put on a brave grin, clearly struggling against her body’s desire to breathe erratically. He squeezed her stiff body tightly into him.

  Jake moved them further toward the end of the ledge in the shadows, making sure she kept her hood up. But as they approached the link to the parking structure, he realized that the buildings weren’t connected like he’d hoped. There was a gap of about three feet between where they stood and an opening in the long-term parking structure.

  “We are going to have to jump it.”

  “I can’t, Jake.” She trembled, freezing in the biting cold. “I can’t move.”

  “How many times do I have to remind you that I’m a professional?” He grinned, trying to make light of a terrifying situation. “I’ll carry you.”

  His sly remark seemed to spark humor in her, and she gave him a half smile in return. He’d take what he could get. With her vulnerable, dark eyes assessing him and her mouth tipped up at the corners, she was so fucking beautiful.

  “I know you can do this,” Jake assured her. He tried to pick her up, but that freaked her out even more. She shoo
k her head impatiently and pushed his hand away.

  “No. Just show me how to do it.”

  Jake sighed. They had no time to debate, and he believed she could do it. So he jumped the three-foot gap, ignoring the death drop below, and landed on the concrete edge across from them, as nimble as a ninja. As he turned back to her, a lone gunshot rang out in front of the building, and then another. These were followed by a small explosion.

  “Aisha,” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s time.”

  She froze at the worst moment—in plain fucking view. Tears poured out of her eyes, and he remembered when he got shot at the gas station. There were more shots fired, closer this time, and hulking men in suits came out of the service door in the distance.

  She was going to get fucking shot.

  “Aisha!” he cried, flexing his muscles to jump back to her.

  Then… she fucking did it. She ran forward, jumping the gap with her face full of fear. It wasn’t elegant or graceful, but he caught her before she slid off the concrete edge. She’d done her part—finding her way to him—and he’d done his part—catching her before she fell.

  “Fucking right.” He nodded to her, and then grasped her hand and ushered her into the darkness of the parking structure.

  Looking over his shoulder, he concluded that they had not been seen. Thank god. He found his rented black truck, pushed Aisha into the passenger seat, and found his way to the driver’s side. Doors shut, she closed her eyes and seemed to take a minute to fucking breathe.

  “Good job, tiger.” He beamed at her.

  She shot him a sheepish smile back. And that’s when Jake was damn sure: he officially didn’t give a shit about anything else.

  “Where are we going now?” She fidgeted with her seat belt. “There’s no way to get out of this mess.”

  Unwilling to watch her from a distance for one more second, Jake reached over and pulled her toward him with ferocity. She let out a yelp. He sat her right on his lap and stared into her eyes, brushing back loose hair from her face.

  She smelled like heaven, and felt like it, too. In the shadow of the concrete parking structure and the darkness of the truck’s cab, Jake took a moment to get something off his chest. His mouth took hers fiercely. Roughly. This kiss wasn’t as sensitive and loving as the one back at the cottage. It was needy. Demanding. Angry. Frustrated.

 

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