Discovering Rafe

by Sara Blackard

  “It’s going to be okay, Piper. I won’t let this guy hurt you.”

  Terror hadn’t released its grip on her throat, so she kissed him, leaned back, and gave a firm nod.

  “Let’s get you packed, then we’ll head out.” Rafe stood and pulled her up with him. When she wobbled, he held her tight. “You okay?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  Rafe pushed her hair behind her ear. “All right. You go grab the stuff you need from the bathroom. I’ll get your clothes packed up.”

  She took a step toward the bathroom, only to do an about-face as he headed toward her dresser. “Rafe, wait.” She rushed to his side and pushed the drawer closed. “I’ll get this. Could you bring the suitcase in?”

  His head tilted to the side as he looked from her to the drawer and back again. A slow smile built and his eyes lit with understanding. Her neck warmed as he chuckled and turned toward the closet.

  She yanked open the drawer below, pulled out her long nightgown, then jerked open the drawer Rafe had about opened. Tossing all the new lacy underwear and bras into the nightgown, she tied them up as Rafe sauntered back into the room.

  “Is it safe?” Laughter tinged his question.

  Piper loved that he found her embarrassment amusing. At least the underwear had distracted her mind from her fear.

  “Yes, ornery.”

  Rafe carried her suitcase with his phone smashed between his shoulder and ear. “I’m taking her to your island. A tropical oasis is just what she needs.” He winked at her.

  She rolled her eyes and went to the bathroom. She listened to Rafe’s conversation as she threw her toiletries into a bag.

  “No, I don’t want Chloe anywhere near this, and if Jake comes, she’ll throw a fit and come as well.”

  Chloe would throw a fit anyway and demand to join them. Piper couldn’t see her cousin letting her and Rafe go off on their own.

  “She’ll be a handful when she wakes and realizes we’re gone, but it’s for the best. Hopefully Jake can calm her down.” Rafe shoved an armful of clothes into the suitcase as Piper emerged from the bathroom. “Wake Derrick up and tell him he’s flying us to paradise.”

  Rafe hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. He pushed his hand through his hair and turned to the closet.

  “We’ll have to get you some clothes when we get there. All you have is too warm.”

  “Okay. What’s the plan?” Piper tossed her toiletries into the suitcase and moved to the dresser to grab whatever was left in there.

  “Zeke has an island that can’t be traced to him or the company.” Rafe smooshed down her clothes, so she rushed over and pushed him out of the way. “We fly out as soon as we can get packed.”

  “His plane just crashed.” Piper tried to straighten out her clothes, then gave up and zipped the mess in.

  “He bought another.” Rafe reached for the suitcase.

  “Must be nice.” Piper wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Chloe’s going to flip a brick when she finds out you stole me away.”

  “Hmm.” He wrapped his free arm around her, his voice low and sultry as he whispered against her lips. “Stealing you away. I like the sound of that.”

  He kissed her. It was quick and hard, but his desperation buzzed against her lips and down her spine. Her mind spun, not used to being the one needing help, so she clung to him, willing to let him take control for a while. Pathetic, really, but she relished the fact that her knight in shining armor actually wanted to rescue her.

  Fifteen

  The slapping of feet yanked Rafe’s attention through the jungle leaves. With careful movements, he pushed the branch down just as a dirt-streaked boy rushed past. Rafe closed his eyes, his heart racing at the added stress the boy no older than ten or eleven carrying a semi-automated weapon presented to the mission. He motioned to those behind him about the added enemy combatant, his stomach souring.

  He edged to the side of the building, the rowdy Spanish keeping any noise he’d make covered, not that he’d make any. He paused at the corner, wishing someone else had taken the lead, but grateful he could spare his friends what had to be done. He swallowed, pulling his knife out of its scabbard as they waited for the signal to breach the building.

  “Go.” The almost inaudible command steeled Rafe’s nerves.

  He turned the corner on silent feet. The eyes of the boy grew wide as he fumbled for his weapon. Rafe reached for him, hating the men who’d given the kid a gun. Hating himself for what he had to do.

  Rafe jerked awake, his computer flying off the little table to land with a soft thump in the seat across from him. His hands shook as he lifted them in front of him, half expecting to see them covered in blood again. He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face to clear his head and settle his turning stomach.

  He glanced around the cabin of Zeke’s new jet, his gaze resting on Piper. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, her face relaxed and innocent-looking. What was he thinking? He was too tarnished for someone as pure as her, but he was also too selfish to let her go now that she had opened his eyes. She’d probably kick him to the curb, her crush on him thoroughly destroyed if she ever found out about that last mission.

  He got up and pulled the blanket higher that had slipped off her shoulder. He needed a distraction. He went to the galley and snagged a soda, popping the tab as he peeked into the cockpit.

  He let the sugary drink slide the roughness from his throat. “Hey, how are you doing up here, Captain Goose?”

  Derrick shook his head. “Man, when are you going to let that name go?”

  “Not likely, since you still mother us.”

  “Whatever. Just because I tell you to pick your junk up and get frustrated when the house is trashed, doesn’t mean I mother you.”

  “You’re right. It’s more how you always ask if we got all our gear and take us to task when we don’t that keeps the Mother Goose name going.” Rafe lifted his soda toward Derrick, who sputtered. “You need a drink or something?”

  “Yeah, I’d like your smug face on a platter.” Derrick turned and raised his eyebrow. “Think you can serve that up for me?”

  “Alrighty. A platter of cheese coming right up.”

  Derrick’s deep laugh followed Rafe into the galley. That’s just what he had needed, to get someone laughing. He didn’t want to deal with the heaviness the dream had settled on him, didn’t want to admit that he worried he wouldn’t be able to find the stalker. He stacked a soda and some snacks on a tray and went back to the cockpit, placing the tray on the dash and sliding into the co-pilot’s seat with a sigh.

  “Something on your mind, man?” Derrick checked all the gauges before turning his attention to Rafe.

  “Nah.” He pulled a drink from the can.

  Derrick cocked his eyebrow. “Lighten your load, man. It’s a long flight, and I can tell something’s bothering you.” He reached for a bottle of water and twisted it open. “Dr. D is in the house.”

  “Dr D?” Rafe snorted.

  “It’s better than Mother Goose,” Derrick said. “I think it’ll stick.”

  Rafe chuckled, but the weight still hung heavy on his shoulders. He peeked back into the cabin to make sure Piper still slept, then grabbed a pack of cookies from the tray.

  “What if I don’t find this guy?” He twisted the bag in his hands. “I spent all morning going over everything again, and I keep coming up empty.”

  “You’ll find him. You just need more time.” Derrick grabbed an apple. “You’re a genius with this stuff.”

  “What if he’s geniuser than me?”

  “With English like that, I might agree.” Derrick pointed the apple at Rafe. “He’s not, few people are, and he won’t elude you for long. Plus, us going to the island gives you time. We’ve gone to long lengths to make it untraceable.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Derrick crunched into his apple, chewed, then peered at Rafe. “So, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?�
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  “Why do you think there’s something more?” Rafe tossed the bag of cookies back onto the tray.

  “Dude, I’ve spent almost the entirety of a decade with you.” Derrick’s voice grew solemn. “You haven’t been the same since that mission. Seems everything has compounded since Piper arrived.”

  Rafe grunted and pushed his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, D. It’s just … I’m tarnished. The blood of that kid still stains my hands. I figured I’d just hang low, be the best uncle all you guys’ kids could have and not have to taint anyone else with what I’d done. Then Piper …”

  Emotion strangled Rafe’s words in his throat. Shoot. He swallowed and turned his attention out the side window, blinking to clear the sting from his eyes.

  “Then Piper came, and you realized being uncle wouldn’t be good enough.” Derrick’s voice pitched low.

  Rafe sniffed and pushed his words out of his aching throat. “She’s just too naïve, too wholesome. She’s hardly even dated, and here I am a royal flirt and a kid killer.”

  “You are not a kid killer. The men who forced that boy into their army were.”

  “I could’ve used non-lethal force.”

  “Not without compromising the mission. If you hadn’t done what needed to be done, that kid could’ve come around, alerted that entire complex of our presence, or thrown that grenade he had strapped to his pants and killed us all. It was war. We all did things we wish we hadn’t had to. Don’t make you tarnished, man. You still grappling with it proves your humanity—that you were fighting on the side of good.”

  “If I’m so good, then why does it haunt me still?”

  “You remember how Hunter used to tell us those tales of King David and Joshua and his men from the Bible?” Derrick continued when Rafe nodded. “He told us because he wanted us to remember that those men of God had to do violent things. There’s a reason David wrote a bulk of the Psalms. Even when he did everything right, he was still haunted, as you say.”

  “Man, I’m nothing like David. He was a man after God’s own heart.”

  “You’re right. You aren’t an adulterer, murderer, or womanizer.”

  Rafe’s head flinched back, and his thoughts froze.

  “You remember that prayer Hunter prayed over us on so many missions, the soldier’s prayer from Psalm 91?” Derrick placed his hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

  Rafe could hear Hunter’s voice in his head, his strong words full of determination and belief. It was Hunter’s unassuming walk with God that had made Rafe look at his own faith with regret. It was Hunter’s example that had slowed Rafe’s participation in the dating scene. He hadn’t called dating off completely like Hunter had, but Rafe hadn’t taken it as lightly either. But mostly it was that prayer that Hunter would pray that seeped into Rafe’s soul and grabbed on tight.

  “Let Your truth be my shield and buckler against the fiery darts—the lies—of the enemy.” Derrick’s rich voice eased into Rafe’s gut, calming the pain that had settled there. “Stop choosing the enemy’s lies, man, and let God’s truth shield you.” He squeezed his shoulder. “I need to stretch my legs. Holler if anything starts beeping.”

  Rafe bobbed his head once, then stared out the window. He asked God to show him the truth. Immediately, Rafe’s heart filled with a warmth that spread through his body, like a hug from strong arms. Gooseflesh erupted across his skin, and he shivered with the sudden sense of God’s love. Rafe bowed his head, thanking God for His mercy.

  He sniffed and dashed his finger under his eye. Lifting his gaze out the window, he felt lighter than he had in over a year. He also realized that he had to tell Piper. He prayed she’d understand. He didn’t think she’d hate him because of what had happened, but he’d also witnessed people’s reactions to the atrocity of war. Often he was left surprised.

  Piper stared at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that as she inspected her bathing suit. The dark blue halter top one-piece Chloe had forced Piper to buy in Steamboat made her feel like she’d stepped out of the fifties. She loved the way it fit with its full coverage of the girls up top and the adjustable side ties on the bottom that let her keep her back side from hanging out. Now, she questioned if instead of trendy, she just looked old-fashioned. Why couldn’t Zeke’s private getaway be somewhere colder, like Greenland or Antarctica?

  They’d arrived at the island after a thirteen-hour flight interrupted by quick stops to refuel. When it appeared like they were landing on the ocean, she had gripped the armrest so hard, she worried she left fingernail marks in the leather. Turned out, Zeke’s island not only had a house worthy of every luxury TV show out there with its sleek architecture, perfectly decorated rooms with stellar views of the ocean, and infinity pool, but it also came with a landing strip.

  Derrick had crashed in his bedroom the instant they had walked through the door, while Rafe told her to change into her swimsuit, claiming the two of them needed to burn off some energy swimming. He may have extra energy to burn. He always had. She, on the other hand, just wanted to lock the door, climb into the soft white bed, watch the waves as they slapped lazily against the sandy beach, and pray this nightmare would end.

  She pushed her fingertips against her eyes. Hiding under the covers wouldn’t change anything. It’d simply make Rafe even more concerned about her. She didn’t want to add more for him to worry about, so she’d pull on her big girl panties and act like her mind wasn’t unraveling.

  She yanked her hands through her hair, pulled it into a messy bun on the top of her head, and wrapped a towel around her waist. She took her time making her way to the porch and admired how the inside of the house blended seamlessly with the view. She’d have to ask Rafe if a caretaker lived here, because the place was immaculate.

  As she made her way to the beach down a series of steps and decks set up with inviting couches filled with colorful pillows, she told herself she didn’t need to be nervous. She’d swam in the pond with Rafe almost every day of the summer growing up. Her stomach felt empty and nauseous at the same time, and the intense desire to flee back up the steps and fashion a muumuu out of the comforter filled her.

  Stepping onto the beach, she curled her toes into the warm sand. A salty breeze teased her hair and cooled her sweaty skin. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Rafe hollered and waved from far out in the ocean. She held her hand over her eyes, wishing she had thought to bring a hat. She snorted. Who was she kidding? No thought had gone into her frantic packing. She half wished she would’ve missed snagging her swimwear as she’d shoved things into her suitcase.

  As Rafe swam back to shore in his powerful and smooth-stroked way, Piper ventured to the palm-frond roofed cabana. A hammock swung slightly where it stretched between two of the dark wooden posts. More couches surrounded a table, and she imagined herself lounging in them for hours reading. On the table sat a tray of tropical fruit and other snacks. A cooler was tucked under the table. She smiled, touching her neck at how thoughtful Rafe had been while she fretted in her room.

  Splashing drew her gaze to him as he stepped out of the water. The sun sparkled on his wet skin, and Piper averted her gaze. Wowzah. He hadn’t looked like that in high school. Her hands slicked with sweat, and she twisted them in the towel to dry them.

  “Hey, Pipster. Ready to take a dip?” Rafe jogged up to the cabana and shook his head, sending water flying all over her.

  She shrieked and held up her hands, laughing. Rafe had done that as a teenager. It comforted her to know that not everything about Rafe had changed.

  “I won’t need to go swimming now that you’ve soaked me.” Piper flicked water off her arm.

  “I could soak you more.” He snaked his arm around her back and pulled her close. “Did you put sunscreen on, my fair-skinned siren?”

  She couldn’t find her voice as he ran the back of his fingers down her neck and over her shoulders. She shook her head.

  “Well, let’s get your delicate skin protected. I don
’t want you red as a lobster like that one time you and Chloe sunbathed all afternoon.” Rafe stepped back and grabbed the sunscreen spray on the table.

  Piper laughed. She’d forgotten about that disaster. She held out her hand. “Spray some here so I can get my face.”

  Rafe complied, then motioned with his finger for her to turn around. He smoothed his hand over her shoulders. His touch heated her skin hotter than the tropic sun.

  “Your bruises seem to be healing well.”

  Piper smeared the sunscreen over her face and ears. “It doesn’t hurt much anymore, just if I bump up against something wrong.”

  “That’s good.” He tossed the can on the couch. “I’m just going to get a drink, then we can go splash with the fish.”

  “What kind of fish are there?” Piper unwrapped her towel, looking out at the water in anticipation.

  She hoped there were bright fish they could watch, but also didn’t like the thought of certain slimy creatures swimming between her feet. Chloe had forced her to watch too many scary movies that involved the open water for Piper’s liking. Her imagination had more than enough situations without the help of those movies.

  When Rafe didn’t answer, she turned her head his direction. He’d frozen as he’d lifted the bottle of water to his lips, his eyes wide as he looked her up and down. She curled her fingers into her palm so she wouldn’t fidget.

  “Um, uh.” He blinked rapidly and shook his head.

  He jerked his gaze from her and chugged from the bottle. She stifled a smile and turned back to the water. Maybe she’d changed a lot since high school, too.

  He cleared his throat and thunked the water on the table. “There’re lots of tropical fish, plus sting rays, jellyfish, maybe turtles. We can go fishing later, try to get us some dinner.”

  “Sharks?” She raised her eyebrow.

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “Maybe, but I’ll protect you.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the water. “Come on. Stop stalling.”