“Do you have anything that you can use as a weapon?”
He glanced around his cell. His bare cell. Rising, he did a quick lap. “There’s nothing.” He kicked into the wall.
“Look carefully. The most ordinary objects can be used as a weapon.”
He moved back to the bars. That’s when he spotted it. One of the bars was rusted and broken through. He reached out and snapped it off. “I have a piece of metal bar.”
“Good,” she said. “You’re strong. Get him down, and use the bar to cut off his air.”
Jeez. His fingers clenched on the bar.
“You can do this, Brooks. I’m right here.”
“Okay, Callie.”
“Once he’s down, get the keys. Then we’ll make a run for it. You’ve got this.”
All too soon, Brooks heard the footsteps of one of the guards. Goon One entered, holding two plates of food.
“Hope you guys are hungry. I have some shitty rice and beans for you.” He laughed. “Didn’t even spit in it.”
Asshole. Brooks swallowed, his fingers tight on the bar.
The goon unlocked the door to Callie’s cell, stepped in, and then shoved the plate across the floor. He locked her door again.
Then he shoved the key in the lock on Brooks’ cell. Brooks dragged in a deep breath.
The door opened, and when the man took one step in, Brooks attacked.
Chapter Five
Callie listened to the harsh grunts and thuds coming from the next cell.
She bit down on her lip. “Brooks, you can do this.”
The scuffling continued, and her nails dug into her palms. Be okay. Be okay.
She knew a life-and-death fight was going on in the cell next door. She leaned closer to the wall. More grunts. A pained sound.
“Brooks?”
“Choking…him.”
Callie closed her eyes. “I know it isn’t easy. Don’t hesitate. It’s him or us.”
More choking noises. Then silence, except for the sound of harsh breathing.
She rose up on her knees. “Brooks?”
She heard the rattle of keys and then Brooks appeared in front of her cell. He had a scratch down his cheek, and his face was strained, his eyes wide.
With shaking hands, he found the right key and inserted it in the lock on her cell door. As soon as the door opened, Callie staggered to her feet and moved to him. She pressed her face against his chest.
Strong arms closed around her.
He let out a harsh expulsion of air. “I just killed a guy.”
She pressed into him harder. “Him or us.”
Brooks gave her a short nod.
Her body moved against his and she noted that he was pure muscle. She blinked. She knew he worked out, but she’d never noticed his thighs before.
Shaking her head, she went into Brooks’ cell. The guard was sprawled on the floor, the metal bar beside him. Crouching sideways, she awkwardly pulled a knife off the man’s belt.
“Come on.” She held the knife out. “Cut me loose.”
Brooks took the knife and cut her bindings. As soon as her hands were free, she gave them a quick shake. Brooks stared down at the man.
Crouching, Callie checked the man, searching for anything they could use. She took the man’s Glock, checked it, and tucked it into the waistband of her jeans.
“I can’t believe I took a life,” Brooks said quietly.
She straightened. “Well…you haven’t.”
His brow creased. “What?”
“Sorry to break it to you, Brooks, but you didn’t kill him.”
“Come again?”
“He’s out cold, but he’d not dead. He’s still breathing.”
Brooks ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “Hell, I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed.”
“You can ponder the issue later. We need to get out of here.”
He nodded. His chest was still bare, and she reached up, touching the bruises and burns. Nothing too bad, but she itched to get them cleaned up and treated.
As she stroked his skin, he got a funny look on his face.
Then he cleared his throat, shifting his feet. “We need to go, right?”
“Right. Take the shirt off the guard. You can’t travel through the desert without protection from the sun.”
Brooks nodded. With a few grunts and a little maneuvering, he got the shirt off the guard. He slipped it on, doing up the buttons. It was a size too small for him, his muscles stretching it to the limits, but it would have to do. Callie quickly used the rope that had bound her to tie up the goon.
Then they were headed outside. Callie scanned the nearby area and her pulse leaped. No cars. Not a single vehicle.
All she saw beyond the dilapidated house was desert. Unforgiving desert.
“Looks like no one else is here,” she murmured. “We’ll check the main house and grab any gear that might be useful.”
Brooks nodded.
“Stay here.”
Callie hurried up to the side of the house. She circled around, checking through the grimy, cracked windows.
No sign of Mr. Ordinary or any other guards. She waved Brooks over.
They entered, quickly passing through the small house. Callie found a backpack and filled it with water bottles, granola bars, packets of nuts and jerky. Thank God the guards clearly liked their snacks. She also found a dusty blanket and shook it out. From the small first aid kit, she took some painkillers and bandages.
“Here.” She held up two pills and a bottle of water. “Take those. They’ll dull the pain.”
He took them from her. “You take some too.”
“I’m—”
“We have to make it through the desert, Callie.”
She nodded and swallowed some of the painkillers. As she did, she saw Brooks scowl at the car battery, then he moved to the window.
He stiffened. “Cal, cloud of dust incoming.”
Moving beside him, she looked out.
A car was headed right toward them. “Quick, let’s go out the back.”
They exited and Callie led them straight to the desert, making sure they were out of the line of sight of the incoming car. They climbed over a collapsed wire fence and hadn’t gotten far, before she heard the car engine.
“Down.”
They both dropped down into a shallow gully. The sand was hot under her palms.
Callie peered over the rim of the depression and watched the car pull up near the house. Mr. Ordinary climbed out.
“Arizona plates,” she murmured.
“You think we’re in Arizona?”
“Maybe.” She watched Ordinary and three of his goons head into the house. A second later, they came back out at a jog, headed for the cells.
Pandemonium broke out. The remaining goons dragged the unconscious guard out of the shed. Ordinary was waving his hands around and yelling.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s put some more distance between them and us. Stay low.”
Bent over, they followed the gully, using the sparse desert shrub for cover.
“Where are we headed?” Brooks asked.
“I think we’re pretty close to the border, so they’ll probably expect us to head north. We’re going to do the opposite and go south.”
His eyebrows rose. “To the border?”
“Not all the way. We’ll track west when we can.”
As soon as they were out of sight of the house, they straightened up and picked up speed. The sun beat down on them, hot as Hades. Still, she’d suffered through worse in Afghanistan, and Brooks didn’t complain. She set a fast pace and soon perspiration ran down her back.
They couldn’t go for too long in the heat or they’d risk heatstroke. She kept an eye out for shelter, but didn’t see anywhere that offered much shade.
“Drink break.” She pulled out a bottle of water and took a sip. She handed it to Brooks.
He took a healthy swallow before he screwed the lid back on. Handing it back, he no
dded.
They set off again, and it wasn’t long before Callie’s unprotected skin tingled from the sun. She looked at Brooks. His skin was a shade darker than hers, and although he was more covered than she was, she worried about him. Still, this geek was built tough.
Finally, Callie spotted a rocky outcrop. “There. We can rest there until nightfall. It’ll be cooler to travel at night, and we can cover more ground then.”
They found a little overhang and Callie picked up a stick, banging the ground and rock to make sure there were no residents of the scaly kind.
“Damn, it’s hot,” Brooks muttered. “I’d kill for a pool right now.”
She pulled the blanket out and laid it down in the shade. Brooks pulled off his borrowed shirt and tipped his head back, drinking water again.
This time, Callie’s gaze moved across his hard pecs and defined abs. He didn’t have much chest hair, so his smooth skin was on display. She mentally traced around some of the tattoos, then up to his neck, watching his throat work as he drank.
A very different kind of heat suddenly spiraled through her.
What the hell? She quickly looked away and grabbed another bottle of water. She took a big gulp.
She’d never thought of Brooks that way. He was a friend. Sure, she was a medic with a good appreciation for a healthy, male body, but…it was Brooks.
“Thanks, Callie.”
She looked back at him. “For what?”
“For coming for me. For saving me.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, Brooks, but you saved us back there. What you did in that cell was tough, and you didn’t hesitate.” She bumped her shoulder against his.
He slid his arm around her, hugging her close.
She hugged him back, figuring they both needed it.
But the solid feel of him had that traitorous, confusing heat curling around in her belly.
She cleared her throat. “Let’s get some rest while we can. We’ll need our energy later.”
* * *
Brooks woke from the heat. It wasn’t just the warm air around him, but the very warm female body pressed against his.
Mmm. He was curled around her smaller form and the faint scent of coconuts hit him. Must be her shampoo. He stroked his hand down her side, fingers stroking smooth skin, and she made a sexy sound.
Oh, yeah, he felt that husky noise in his cock. He let his hand drift up and cup one small, but perfectly formed breast.
With another sexy sound, she pressed into his palm, and her sweet ass moved against him. He nudged his throbbing cock against her ass.
She turned her head and he saw gorgeous, shiny, black hair.
He lifted his gaze and met Callie’s gray eyes.
Callie.
They both jerked apart.
Shit. Crap. His brain wasn’t firing, and he tried to shake the last of the sleep off.
Callie sat up and licked her lips. The movement made him look at her mouth. Her sexy mouth, with its plump bottom lip…
Look away, Jameson.
She cleared her throat. “I was still asleep.”
“Me, too,” he said hurriedly.
Then her gaze dropped, skating over his bare chest. He quickly turned away and grabbed his shirt.
Slipping it on, he tried to calm himself down. Shitballs. His cock was as hard as steel, and it wasn’t interested in going down, either. It was hard. For Callie.
She’d turned her back to him and was tying her hair up. His gaze dropped to her ass. No, don’t look at her ass.
“The sun’s setting.” She rummaged around in the backpack, then handed him a granola bar and a packet of peanuts. “We need to travel while it’s cool.”
He nodded, and got busy eating the bar. It could have tasted like cardboard for all the attention he gave it.
Callie packed up the blanket, her movements brisk and business-like. Did she feel the tension like he did? Or had she just shaken off their sleep-induced sexy times? He started on the packet of peanuts.
She looked up. “Ready?”
He swallowed the last of his dinner and took a swig of water. “Ready.”
They left the rocky outcrop, moving across the uneven ground. It was rockier here, but they found a good pace. Brooks was thankful for the extra miles he’d been running on the treadmill lately.
He watched the moon rising—a big, bright orb in the dark sky.
“Our guys will be scrambling to find us,” he said.
“Yeah. And they’ll be forced to use the computer without you there to do it.” Callie snorted. “Lachlan types with two fingers. It’s painful to watch.”
Brooks smiled but it died quickly. “This is not how I imagined my week going.”
“What did you have planned? Call of Duty, Gears of War, some geeky computer things?”
“Pretty much. And breakfast with my family.” They’d be worried as hell.
“Lachlan will have called them. Your family rocks.”
“They do.” His family had met Team 52, and loved them all. His family was a wild, loud bunch. His dad was a college football coach, one of Brooks’ brothers was a personal trainer, the other was a firefighter, and his mom was the loudest and boldest of them all. The former Marine was several inches taller than Brooks’ dad, and had a voice set to maximum volume at all times.
Brooks loved them. He was the odd one out in the family—the geeky one who’d loved books and computers instead of football and cars—but they loved him just the way he was.
“Let’s take a short break.” Callie sat down.
He sat and winced. Some of his bruises were pure agony now, and the raw burns were stinging like hell.
“You’re in pain,” she said.
He met her gaze. “Nothing I can’t handle. You must feel just as bad.”
Her lips quirked. “My muscles ache like hell.” She let out a breath, then reached up, running a finger over his lip. “This is torn up, and one of your burns looks nasty. Wish I had a damn first aid kit.”
“I’m fine, Cal.”
She hunched her shoulders and he felt the tension throbbing off her.
He frowned. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder. “I…just hate seeing you hurt.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “A few bruises and burns. I’m all right.”
She nodded, but as she turned to look at the desert, he studied her profile. She still looked upset.
He crouched beside her and touched her hair. “Cal, talk to me.”
She sniffed. “I’m a medic. I hate seeing people hurt.”
“This seems like more than that.”
She looked out into the darkness, her face hidden by the shadows. “I hate seeing people I care about hurt.”
He felt those quiet words deep inside.
“Do you know why I became a medic?” she asked.
“No.” The air suddenly felt thick around them, in a bad way.
“I had a sister.”
Had. Shit.
“Okay,” he said carefully.
“Her name was Bec and she was three years younger than me.” A faint smile. “She lived to make my life hell. Always getting into my things, trying to steal my clothes.”
Sounded like normal sisterly stuff to him.
“I was sixteen.” Callie paused and dragged in a breath. “My dad had gone to pick Bec up from dance practice. They never made it home.”
Brooks’ gut clenched.
“We were a happy family. All of us. We got on well, like yours does. I’d just gotten my license and was constantly borrowing my mom’s car. That day, I went out searching for them.” Her next breath was shallow. “There’d been a bad thunderstorm that afternoon. All our friends and extended family were out looking for them. I was the one that found them.”
Shit. “I’m here, Callie.” He moved closer, taking her hand.
Her fingers clenched tight on his. “They’d crashed. They’d run off the road and slid down into a s
hallow ravine. I climbed down to them… Dad was already gone.” She trembled.
Brooks held her hand tighter.
“Bec was still alive, but she was badly injured.” Callie looked at him. “I had no idea what to do. There was so much blood. I was a smart, pretty, high school student who was more concerned with driving around with her friends and cheerleading. I had no clue about first aid.”
“I’m sorry, Callie.”
“There was so much blood, and I couldn’t help her. Even when she was crying for me to help, I couldn’t.”
Screw this. Brooks pulled Callie to his chest. “It’s not your fault, Callie. Maybe there was nothing you could have done, even if you’d been trained.”
“I just held her hand as the life leaked out of her.”
“Then she wasn’t alone. That’s important.”
Her arms snaked around him, holding on tight. He pressed his face against her hair.
“I’m glad I wasn’t alone this last day,” he said. “I wouldn’t have made it out of there without you.” He nuzzled her hair.
Callie touched her neck, and when he pulled back, he saw her fingering the necklace she always wore.
“This was Bec’s. She collected charms.” A sad smile crossed Callie’s face. “They were all dancing related. She loved to dance.”
“And I bet she’d love knowing you wear it.” He pulled her face back to his chest and felt her hands grip his shirt. He wished he could take away her pain, or say something to make her feel better. All he could do was hold her.
They stayed like that for a long time, sitting in the moonlight in the middle of the desert.
“We need to move.” She straightened, swiping her arm across her face.
He nodded and rose.
“Brooks?”
He glanced back at her.
“Thanks.”
Chapter Six
Holy cow, she was having very non-friend-like feelings for Brooks.
Callie gestured him to pass through some boulders ahead of her. She slipped in behind him, navigating the rough ground. The guy was built. She’d noticed before, but she’d never noticed.
It had been hard to miss the very hard, very large bulge pressed against her when they’d woken earlier. Or the big hand stroking her breast.
Mission: Her Freedom: Team 52 #6 Page 4