by Ciana Stone
He shook his head and motioned for her to move. Etta quietly moved closer to the inside wall, beside the refrigerator. Just as she reached the position, a man entered, his rifle already swinging from side to side as he scanned the room.
All Etta could think was how had their enemy known where they were? It didn’t make any sense. Why were they being attacked? The enemy spotted Etta and before she had time to do more than flinch, Deacon grabbed the man and with one vicious twist, broke his neck. He dragged the man out of the doorway as gunfire pelted the area. Etta watched with growing terror as Deacon took the man’s gun and returned fire.
It took all her will to keep her mouth closed and not scream. Etta had never been so afraid. At least until a few seconds later when she saw Deacon turn abruptly to one side and lurch back. Almost immediately, his body jerked three times in rapid succession.
Nothing could have stopped the scream that tore out of her when she realized what was happening. Deacon had been shot. He managed to stagger to one side and she could see the bloodstains on his clothes. The upper right side of his chest, near his waist on his left side, and two patches on his left leg were growing steadily.
He slumped against the wall, breathing hard. Gunfire and the sounds of fighting came from the front room, accompanied by screams of pain and furniture being knocked over. Etta eased over to the door and then bolted across the doorway to Deacon.
“I’m here.” She whispered. “What do you want me to do?”
Deacon pressed the rifle into her hands and pulled his own sidearm. “Kill the bastards.”
Reality suddenly shifted. The noise was one big cacophony, blended to create something indecipherable and horrifying. Etta screamed, in fear and defiance, stepped into the doorway and opened fire. She saw one man go down and then another.
Deacon hung onto the doorframe and fired. Another of the enemy fell. Etta kept shooting, aiming at anything that looked like an enemy until suddenly there he was. Gabe. He moved out of the hallway with his weapon drawn and she lowered her rifle.
At that moment, Deacon fell. Etta dropped the rifle and knelt beside him. “Gabe, help! It’s Deacon.”
She pressed one hand on the wound on his chest and the other on his leg, where the greatest amount of blood seemed to be welling.
“Etta.” Deacon’s voice was weak, but he pushed Etta away.
“Deacon, stop.” Etta tried to stop him from moving and yelled out, “Gabe!”
She saw Deacon look behind her. She looked over her shoulder, screamed and jumped up. “Gabe no. It’s Deacon! Put down that gun.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
That’s when Etta really looked at him and what she saw scared the life out of her. She’d never seen such hatred or malice burning in a man’s eyes. Gabe had his gun pointed at Deacon’s head.
“Gabe, it’s me. Etta. You’re safe and you need to put the gun down. You don’t want to—”
“Shut your mouth, you stupid cunt.” Gabe backhanded her, and she fell. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” he said to Deacon and pointed his gun again.
That’s when her hold on what was real started to slip. This wasn’t Gabe. It wasn’t the man she loved, the one she’d married and vowed to love forever. This? This was someone she didn’t know. She barely realized what she was doing when she took Deacon’s handgun and rolled over, raising it to fire.
The bullet hit its mark. A spot of red appeared on Gabe’s forehead and a spray of blood and brains splattered behind him. His body toppled over, causing her to scream and scramble away.
Deacon squeezed Etta’s shoulder and she opened her eyes.
“She radioed for help and kept me alive until help arrived. She never left my side. Not on the trip to Germany. Not through my surgery or recovery. She stayed with me 24-7 until I was safe on home soil. She saved me.”
Etta leaned in closer to Deacon. “And then Deacon saved me. He pulled me from a hell so dark I didn’t think I could escape. But I did. And we became family.
“We’ve been together ever since.”
She looked fully at JJ. “So that’s my shit, Mr. Jacks. I told you, we all have some. Only mine is trying to come back and get me because those people don’t know anything but hatred and blood and death. I can have you assigned to another center and have you out of here tomorrow. You’re not bound here, and this isn’t your fight.”
“Like hell it’s not. Something evil is coming and I know how bad it is. I can’t run from this. I’ll stay and if we have to fight, we’ll fight together.”
Etta looked at Deacon. He nodded and turned his attention to JJ. “One thing. She’s your doctor, you hear me? Your doctor. Nothing else. You’ll not get her killed.”
He then looked at Etta. “And you’ll not make the same mistake again. Am I clear?”
“You are,” she agreed.
“Yes, sir,” JJ answered without hesitation.
“Then let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll come up with a plan and decide what to do about the rest of the people here. We don’t want anyone in harm’s way. Now, you head back to the main house and I’ll bunk down here on the couch.”
JJ nodded and looked at Etta. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing.” She replied. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Yeah, there is, but it can wait. Good night.”
Once he’d gone, Etta turned to Deacon. “You don’t have to stay.”
“You know I do.”
She nodded and stood to hug him. “I love you, Deac.”
“And I love you. Now get some sleep.”
“I’ll try.”
Etta went into her room, but didn’t shut the door. She lay down on the bed, fully dressed, turned to face the door.
Dawn found her still in that position.
Chapter Eleven
It was a somber group that sat around the big dining room table at Sanctuary. Etta and Deacon sat at either end of the table. Grady sat to Deacon’s left and Mason to his right. The other four seats were occupied by men Etta had met only a few minutes ago when a big SUV pulled up in front of the main house and they piled out.
Had it been in any other circumstance, Etta would have found that sight one of the most pleasurable she could imagine. Brodie Judge, Logan Just, Silas Jaen and William, or Billy, Jett all had the look of men trained for battle and good at it. She’d learned a long time ago that men such as they had a look that was unique. It was in their eyes, in the way they carried themselves, and the way they moved.
It was, at least to her, the sexiest thing in the world. But today her reaction was one of gratitude. All of these men were SEALs that had, at one time answered to Deacon. Admiral Angel had reassigned all of them to Sanctuary until the threat against Etta and Deacon was neutralized.
If she was going to face danger, there was nowhere else she’d rather be than with the men seated at the table. One thing, however, struck her as odd and despite the severity of the situation, she couldn’t help bringing it up.
“Don’t you find it interesting that every one of you has a last name that starts with J?”
Billy Jett grinned and Etta wondered how many women had fallen victim to that. Hair as black as a raven’s wing and eyes the color of a Carolina blue sky, Billy was a natural born charmer. “Deac’s superstitious.”
“Pardon?”
“Superstitious. See J is the tenth letter of the alphabet, but if you break it down in numerology it’s one plus zero, so that equals one. And the number one is…well, you know. One. Uno. Top Dog.”
Etta got it, but not in the way Billy meant. She’d studied a lot of schools of thought over the years, including numerology. Jungian psychology placed one as a symbol of unity. She could see Deacon responding to that symbolism. A SEAL unit had to be cohesive. The old saying, “there is no I in T E A M,” fit a SEAL team perfectly.
She looked at Deacon and saw the nearly imperceptible downward tilt of his head and the way one side of his mouth lift
ed slightly. “Yes, I understand,” she said to Billy and looked around the table. “Sorry for the interruption. I understand from speaking with Admiral Angel that you’ve all been assigned cover for the length of your stay.”
She looked at Billy, who was seated beside her. “You’re an up and coming country western singer who ran into a streak of bad luck and took a job here to make enough to get your truck fixed so you can head for Nashville.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you good?”
“Baby, you have no idea.”
All the men laughed and even Etta smiled. “No doubt, but what about as a singer? Do you have a guitar?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then I suggest you make sure you’re seen playing it. The entire ranch has the weekend off, but on Monday we’ll be back to business as usual and the rest of the employees have to believe your role.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent.” She scrolled through to the next file on her tablet, scanned the cover story, and then looked at the man seated next to Billy. “Logan Just.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Demolitions expert.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But here you’re an electrician and ranch hand as needed. As far as anyone knows, including the employees, we’ve experienced electrical problems and are having all of Sanctuary checked for faulty wiring and any fire hazards. That will give you free rein in all of the buildings.”
“And access to install the surveillance equipment,” Grady added.
“Yes, sir.”
After consulting the file to make sure she was correct, Etta turned her attention to the man seated beside Grady. “Silas Jaen. Am I pronouncing that correctly?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just like Tarzan and Jane.”
Etta smiled. “Do I hear a bit of Georgia in that accent, Mr. Jaen?”
“You do, ma’am.”
“And aside from being one of the top snipers in the Navy, you’re good with animals.”
“I am.”
“Then you’ll be working with me in the animal rehab as the new animal center manager.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now,” she looked at the man seated between her and Silas. “Brodie Judge.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re going to be a problem, aren’t you, Mr. Judge?”
“Not intentionally, ma’am.”
“You’re not going to wreck any of our vehicles or turn them into supercharged, nitrogen-powered death traps?”
Everyone laughed, including Brodie. According to his file, he could do just that. Brodie was something of a mechanical genius. Between him and Logan, they could probably build a submarine out of spare parts.
“I was just messing with you, Mr. Judge. You’re going to be assigned to the garage. It’s not demanding, but it is centrally located and there’s room for you to store whatever your team needs and to use as a staging area.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, I think I’m clear on everything.” She looked around at everyone. “But I’m sure you have questions, so now’s the time.”
For a few moments, there was silence, then Brodie spoke up. “Is it true you killed Gabe Angel, ma’am?”
Etta had hoped that wouldn’t be asked, but was prepared for it to be. There were many people in the military curious about the woman who killed Gabe Angel, the Admiral’s son who turned traitor and got his entire team killed except for his commander and his wife, the psychiatrist who had put him back on the active duty list.
“Yes. And before you ask, yes, I certified Gabe fit for duty. I’d still stand by that recommendation today. He wasn’t suffering from PTSD. That was what he wanted me to believe and I did. So I own that. I fell for the ruse.”
“But you saved Deacon when you shot Angel.”
Etta nodded. “He was a traitor.”
“You’re a brave woman, Doctor Whitestone.”
“Thank you, but it didn’t feel that way.” She looked around. “Anyone else?”
“Yeah, me.” Billy said. “I saw this picture of you and Gabe and Admiral Angel. Angel has it on a bookshelf in his office. Correction, had. Anyway, your hair was black. Why’d you bleach it?”
Etta smiled. “I didn’t. You know how you’ve heard the expression scared stiff, or so scared you’re white as a ghost and that sort of thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, apparently there’s something to it. My hair started turning white three days after the massacre in Mosul and within two months I had an inch of white roots, so I buzzed my head and let it grow and it never turned dark again.”
“You think it scared the color out of your hair?”
“If it didn’t, it should have.” She tried to make a joke of it.
“We’re not gonna let that happen again, ma’am.” Billy promised. “And you can take that to the bank. You’ve got the best men in the world sitting at this table and we’re not gonna let anything happen to you or Commander Johns.”
“Thank you. I have complete confidence in that. Now, I know you and Deacon have things you want to go over and I have animals that need tending so I’m going to leave you for a bit.”
“I don’t think that’s smart, ma’am,” Silas said. “I’ll tag along and get familiar with the animal center. Commander Johns can bring me up to speed later.”
“Deacon?” Etta asked.
“That’s a good idea.”
“Okay then.” Etta picked up her tablet and rose. Silas followed her out and silently they walked to the medical building. Etta unlocked it and put her tablet on her desk. Silas looked around, checking exits and windows and then followed her out.
She didn’t speak the entire way, but paid attention to Silas, who walked beside her. He didn’t seem uncomfortable with the silence. Despite the smile he’d cut her way and the manner in which he seemingly looked around in curiosity, he was surveilling the area. To his credit, he did it in such a manner that a civilian would never notice and that impressed Etta.
“So, you’re an advance scout as well,” she said as they stopped at the entrance of the animal center and she reached into her pocket for the keys.
His expression registered just a hint of surprise. “They said you were good. What gave me away?”
“Your eyes. Searching, evaluating. Even when you’re supposed to be charming the doctor.”
“Pardon?”
“Your smile didn’t reach your eyes.”
This time his smile did. “Guess I need to work on that.”
She shrugged and pushed open the gate. “I highly doubt anyone would ever know. Want to help me feed the animals?
“Sure, what kind do you have?”
“A menagerie.”
Etta led him around the side of the building where pens lined the walls beneath the massive overhang. On this side of the building were the cats. Along with the two bobcats that were attached to JJ as if he were their own, there was a male lion who was nearing adulthood and an adult bobcat.
“Is that a mountain lion?” Silas asked as Etta unlocked a side door.
“It is. And from what I’ve been able to determine, this area isn’t known to have a large population, so I’m guessing that he was found somewhere else as a cub and brought here. He must have gotten loose and was hit by a truck. The man who hit him called the Cotton Creek Police and talked with Deputy Judd and—”
“Judd as in related to Grady?”
“As in his wife.”
“Oh yeah, I heard she was a badass ex-Delta turned cop. Sorry, continue.”
“Long story short, she called me, and I brought him here.”
“You just drove over and picked up a lion.” His statement was spoken with enough disbelief, she almost bristled.
“I’m a licensed vet, but yes. He had a broken back leg, two broken ribs, and a lot of lacerations and bruising, but he’s a strong boy and is almost ready for release.”
She reached
inside the door, which was not an entrance into the building but a food locker. Etta picked up a set of tongs and then gestured to a big tray of meat. “How about getting that for me?”
“Sure.”
Silas slid the tray from the cooler locker and she shut it before motioning to him. “Lion first.”
She walked over and knelt down in front of the door to the cage. “Hey there, big boy.”
The lion, who was at the back of the cage, gave a half-hearted growl of warning and a hiss. Etta didn’t let him intimidate her. She’d learned his habits. “Okay, grumpy. If that’s the way you want it.”
She unlocked the food door, slid it open and then selected a big slab of meat from the tray, guided it through the opening and into the feeding dish. She then moved two cages down to the male bobcat.
He was as unfriendly an animal as she’d ever encountered. The moment they approached, he let out a scream that would raise the hair on the back of your neck in a split second.
“Good God, that’s one pissed-off cat,” Silas commented.
“Perpetually. He’s been here five weeks and is as untrusting now as the day we brought him in.”
“What happened to him?”
“Bear, I think. The poor old thing was nearly sliced to shreds. Took almost sixty stitches to sew him up.”
She put food into the cage for the cat and moved toward the last cage. She opened the door and two bobcat cubs barreled out. One leapt straight up into her arms. The other waited until she had the first secured in the crook of one arm and then it jumped.
“That’s cool,” Silas said.
“These are the twins. Bobby and Betty. We were going to release them, but then they latched onto JJ and wouldn’t leave so they’re sort of our mascots. I put them in the pen at night, but am thinking of leaving it open now that they’re a bit older. Want to hold one?”
“Will they allow it?”
“Sure. Thanks to JJ, they’re very people oriented. Even Deacon has been seen sitting in his porch swing with one asleep on his lap.”
“I’d give money to see that. What about this meat?”
“Oh, would you mind putting it back into the food locker?”