by Sable Hunter
*****
Patrick O’Rourke felt better than he had in years. He was home. Oh, he wasn’t where he intended to be in a few days – at Savannah’s side, but he was home. Last night he had been in her bed, and leaving her before daybreak was one of the hardest things he had ever done. But, surely she would understand. He had to protect her until he found out what was going to go down with Lucas. Sipping the bottle of water, he waited for his contact from the base to show up. That had been the only way Patrick could think of to set the ball rolling. After retrieving the flash drive from Savannah’s last night he had placed an early morning call to Commander Edge at Barksdale Air Force base. It had taken him four calls before he was put through.
At first the Commander had been skeptical, but Patrick had served with his son and after he had reminded him that that had met and what they had talked about, Commander Edge had listened. The accusations Patrick was making against a superior officer were very serious, but so was treason. Probably what was most compelling was that Edge’s son had been at Patrick’s funeral and now Patrick himself was telling the old man how he had been betrayed and turned over to an enemy POW camp.
Edge had insisted that Patrick come in and make a statement, but he had also agreed that someone needed to stand guard over Savannah without frightening her to death. So, he was sending an MP to watch her from a safe distance until Patrick could return. He would take the man to where Savannah worked and give him her schedule – there was no way he was letting her go unguarded as long as that fiend, Lucas, was on the loose.
So – he waited. And while he waited, he couldn’t help but marvel at how incredible it had been to make love with Savannah again. There was nothing in the entire world like being buried in her velvet-soft, sweet warmth – nothing. Only thoughts of her had kept him sane while he had been in The Pit.
The Pit had almost been the end of him. Torture unlike anything Patrick had ever dreamed had been his lot. They had water-boarded him, stretched him on the rack, deprived him of sleep and several other things he was trying to black out of his memory. But Patrick had refused to talk. Many times he thought he was going to die. They played Russian roulette with him so often that he eventually stopped flinching when they would pull the trigger.
He might still be there, but Lucas himself had given him the strength to escape. Just over a month ago, the bastard had come to visit him. Patrick had known that Lucas knew where he was and that his commanding officer was the reason he was there – the guards had enjoyed reminding him daily that he had been betrayed by one of his own – an American.
But, the absolute gall of the man was mind-boggling. With his own eyes, Parick had witnessed him taking money for information. Several days later, he had heard the guards laughing about the two helicopters that had been brought down because the traitor had revealed their mission. But the straw that had broken the camel’s back was what had happened when Lucas had paid him a private visit and goaded him, “The mistake you made was going after me, O’Rourke. You’re never getting out of here.”
“You’d better hope I don’t, Lucas. Because, if I ever do escape, you’re a dead man.”
“Where’s the evidence you have on me? I want it. If you give it to me, if you tell me where I can find it – maybe I’ll ask them to kill you quick. Wouldn’t you rather be put out of your misery than stay in this hell for three more years or longer?” The questions had come out of nowhere and chilled Patrick to the bone.
“What evidence?” He played dumb, buying himself time to think.
“Why do you think you’re here? I knew you were gathering evidence against me. I’m not stupid.” Lucas spat on the floor.
“That’s debatable.” How much did he know? Every cell in Patrick’s body went on high alert as he waited for the verdict. How much did he know about Savannah? God, he hoped he hadn’t heard too much before Patrick noticed he had been at the cemetery with them that night.
“I took your possessions apart before I sent them home to your friend. It wasn’t in your belongings.”
Patrick said nothing.
“I’ve kept an eye on your buddies.”
That didn’t worry Patrick. If Jayco and Hawke had been up to something they would be smart enough to hide it from Lucas.
“Is it at your little slut’s house? What’s her name? Savannah? She was with you at the cemetery.”
Patrick lunged across the room and if Lucas hadn’t backed up, he would have seized him through the bars.
“You stay away from Savannah!”
Lucas had the audacity to laugh. “Ah, did I hit a nerve?” The shithead narrowed his eyes and looked at him. “Either you’re just highly protective or I’m right. Which is it?”
“You’ve never been right about anything in your life!” Patrick knew he wasn’t being convincing, but he was furious and scared shitless for Savannah. It was bad enough being in some damn hell-hole, but having to worry about his beloved would be impossible to bear.
“Well, we’ll see. In a few weeks, I’ll be going stateside – and guess who I’ll be visiting.”
The taunting tone in Lucas’s voice ramped up Patrick’s rage. “You come within a hundred miles of her and I’ll blow you to the very gates of hell.”
The most evil laugh he had ever heard emanated from Lucas’s lips. “What do you think you can do about it? I’ll do anything the hell I want to her. Does she have a sweet pussy, O’Rourke? I bet she’s been missing good cock. She thinks you’re dead, you know.” He grabbed his crotch and made obscene thrusting motions with his hips.
Dead? They had told Savannah he was dead? Patrick had never considered that – he presumed he would have been reported MIA. Dead? “You reported me killed in action! You total bastard!”
Lucas didn’t know it, but right then – he sealed his fate. He had just given Patrick the incentive to move heaven and earth to get out of that prison. When Lucas came after Savannah, he’d get the surprise of his life – because Patrick would be waiting on him.
Desperation coupled with fury had made all the difference. He only had one thing worth trading for aid and now was the time to use it. In the last few weeks, he had obtained a piece of information from a fellow prisoner. The poor fellow didn’t make it, he was half-dead when he had been thrown in The Pit, but what he had told Patrick was valuable indeed. He whispered to Patrick the location of buried Afghan emeralds seized in Khenj, mined from the Panjashir Valley.
The man’s dying confession told of a trip to a village for information on Taliban troop movements by allied forces that went terribly wrong due to too much alcohol and an inbred mistrust. An Afghan family was killed for nothing and their possessions ransacked. Sylvan Marceau had later been shot, captured and accused of murder. He felt his fate was just, but he had no qualms about passing on the location of the treasure to Patrick. In a way, he had been bragging.
Funny – the knowledge of the valuable jewels had held no fascination for him until the possibility of a threat to Savannah had come into play. Now, he was thinking clearly for the first time in years.
Today, he stood on a rise near Savannah’s house where he could watch and wait for anyone that would threaten his woman. For all extents and purposes, Patrick was still a dead man. Except for Jayco and Hawke, no one knew he was still alive other than the Commander at Barksdale and the one Military Policeman he was waiting for. And Rasib, of course. Patrick wondered what Savannah had thought when he emailed her and phoned her. Had he scared her? It had occurred to him that she might think it was supernatural. After all, she was deeply involved in paranormal investigationsp; In aBut last night, when she had welcomed him into his bed – that would have convinced her he was real. And tonight when he went back to her, they could talk.
His cell phone buzzed. It was Rasib. “Hey, Buddy. I’m good. Yeah, I’ve talked to the Commander and someone’s on their way to watch Savannah while I go and tell them all I know. She’s good. Yea, I was with her last night, but it was late when I got there an
d I had to get busy this morning, so I left before daybreak. I’m not sure she fully understood what was going on. She might have thought she dreamed me up,” he laughed. “I will. I’ll call soon. Thanks.”
Rasib had been his salvation. His faithful friend had come when the guard from The Pit had summoned him. Patrick had needed him to follow Marceau’s directions and grease the wheels for him to get out of Afghanistan.
The temptation of a fortune in emeralds made the Afghan guards allegiance a commodity to be purchased – and so Patrick had bought it. It had been a tricky deal. He had to give out only enough information to the keepers of the prison in order to prove the truth of his claim. The plan was that after the guards had made his departure possible, Patrick and Rasib would lead them to the rest of the treasure.
Rasib had been overjoyed to see him. Like everyone else, he had assumed that Patrick had been reduced to ashes blowing on the wind. The guard had slipped Rasib into The Pit clothed in a woman’s robe. Patrick had to smile. No woman had sported a finer beard. He hadn’t thought it was so funny when he had left the same way. And thank God, he had access to enough treasure to pay off all the guards, or at least to buy himself some time before Lucas would discover Patrick was out of The Pit. Luckily, Marceau had hid the emeralds in several places so there was enough for the lure, the pay-offs, a portion for Rasib and enough for him to have to ensure safe passage home. As far as he was concerned, it was a steal. Nothing was more valuable than Savannah. Her price was far above rubies – or emeralds. Keeping her safe was paramount.
Rasib had brought weapons and a jeep and information on ways out of the country. The quickest way out was a rattletrap plant that Patrick hadn’t expected to be able to use to climb over the mountains, but he could. The rest of the journey hadn’t been easy, either. Without his government ID, he had been on his own. But it was amazing what an emerald would buy.
Now, here he was in Louisiana and trying to come to terms with all the changes. His Paddy had passed away. When he had called the nursing home, the woman who had answered didn’t even know the name. Apparently he had died not long after Patrick had been captured. There was no doubt in his mind that Savannah and Revel had taken care of things. Sorrow weighed heavily in his chest, but Patrick knew his grandfather was much better off.
He hadn’t been surprised to learn that Jayco and Hawke hadn’t given up on him. They had been overjoyed to hear his voice and assured him that they had been working against Lucas in their own way. It had taken some time, because they hadn’t had all of the evidence that Patrick had collected. However, they had turned over all of their findings to Dave Pate, the U. S. Congressman who was a former SEAL.
Today, he’d try to get Pate involved in the proceedings. Hawke had also relayed to the Congressman about their suspicions that Patrick was still alive, and he had listened and promised to do what he could - but the wheels of justice never rolled swiftly. Of course, his friends had been thankful that Patrick had found another way out. Now, they were just waiting for Lucas to be arrested so they could all testify against him. Patrick was living for that day, too. He hated to stay a ghost one moment longer than necessary, but the longer Lucas or any spies of his thought he was dead – the better.
Now, his main concern was to protect Savannah. The realization that she had been told he was dead cut him to the very core. How she must have suffered! Savannah had loved him – of that he had no doubt. He doubled his fist up and slammed it down on the hood of his rental car. After the lifetime of rejection she had endured, he had never wanted her to know another moment of pain. And even though he hadn’t intended to, he brought her more.
Last night she had responded to him so sweetly. He wondered if she had dreamed of him as often as he had dreamed of her. One thing was certain – he intended to make it up to her. Just as soon as Lucas was in custody and there was no chance she could be hurt, he was going to claim her – that is, if she still wanted him. God – please let her still want him.
When she had left this morning, he had followed her, just to make sure she got to work all right. And when it was time for her to get off – the MP would be there to make sure she got home okay. He didn’t intend for her to be exposed to that idiot for even one moment. And tonight, he’d be back in her bed again. Soon, he’d be more than just a sweet dream for her. Soon, if it were up to him - he’d be her husband.
*****
Savannah was shaking. She had been practically useless at work. Thankfully all she had been responsible for was cataloguing some items for the museum at Erath that had been left to them by a little old ninety year old Cajun woman whose fondest dream was to know her family history would live on.
What had interested Savannah most was the tapes she had made of the little old lady telling her version of the legend of Loup garou – the oyster culling monster. She had always been familiar with the Louisiana version of the werewolf, but his connection to the oyster industry was particularly intriguing to her since this was not the first reference she had heard. One day soon, she would do her own research. One day – when her world started to make sense again.
Today she had left work early, needing to go get her prenatal vitamins filled at the pharmacy. Keeping this baby healthy was so very important to her. She was in such a tizzy that she had left her cell phone - somewhere. She wasn’t sure if she had left it in her bedroom or the car or at work. It probably wasn’t important, but she was so afraid she would miss another call from Patrick. Honestly – she felt as if she was living in the twilight zone.
When she let herself in the house, the first thing she did was take care of Ciara. The dog was still excited and when they went for a walk, it was obvious she was looking behind every tree and brush for Patrick. She turned the lab loose, just to see where she’d go and it didn’t surprise her that she walked a trail around the house and when she stopped at a pair of footprints under her window, Savannah wanted to laugh out loud – but she had this sneaky suspicion she was being watched. So, all she could do was smile. Savannah didn’t know what his game was – all she knew was that she wanted to play. Lord, she wanted to play.
It was all she could do to get Ciara back in the house, but she did it – finally. There were always things to do, but today she was a little preoccupied. She did take a vitamin and cleaned herself up a bit. After all, she might have company in her bed tonight, and she wanted to be fresh as a daisy. Savannah didn’t know where he had been or why he hadn’t returned to her until now – so she was willing to listen. But if he tried to leave her again – this time, she’d kill him herself. Not really – but it was tempting.
*****
It was late – a lot later than he had figured. After he had answered a thousand questions, he had answered a thousand more. Lucas had friends in high places, so this wasn’t going to be a cake walk. Several times he had tried to call Savannah, but there had been no answer. And that scared the hell out of him, but he had talked to the MP and had been assured that she had gotten home and was safely ensconced within the sanctuary of her home.
But he was here now. Last night he had arrived with the intention of waiting till morning to see her, but he was weak – he couldn’t stay away from her. He had tapped on the door a few times, but she hadn’t answered. So he had decided to let himself in. She wouldn’t mind – this was his home - more of a home than he had ever had anywhere. Patrick looked under the doormat first, that was where she used to keep the spare key and he was relieved when he couldn't locate it. He worried about protecting her from intruders ever since March had broken in on her, but now he was glad she was taking the initiative to help safeguard herself.
"You’re such a smart girl," Patrick had mumbled to himself, proud of his little Savannah for being so vigilant. Truly, he had just wanted to be close to her, just get a glimpse of her sweet face, but he had been too tempted to touch and one thing had led to another. Tonight would be different.
So, what had she thought about last night? Did she think it was a dream? Di
d she remember it happening at all or had she awoke with no memory of their lovemaking? While he was in prison he had fantasized daily about her – detailed fantasies. And they weren’t all sexual. Sometimes he would just think about her in the kitchen. How she must look as she went about her daily work. In his mind’s eye he could see the longing for him in her face when she stood in front of the butcher's block where they had chopped up vegetables. And when the pain would get too great, he would think about how she would wiggle her tight, little bottom when he'd sneak up behind her, surround her with his large frame and pin her to the edge of the block with his hard-on. He even imagined her humming some Elvis tune. She wiggled when she sang with Elvis.