Mission: Her Freedom: Team 52 #6

by Hackett, Anna

  Hitching up the backpack, she looked at the back of his head. It wasn’t just physical attraction churning up her belly. It was more than that. Brooks was a nice guy. He was easy to talk to, fun to be around, smart.

  Her toes smacked into a large rock and she almost tripped. Shaking her head, she huffed out a breath.

  “Okay?” he called back.

  “Fine.” Focus on the life-threatening situation, Kimura, not Brooks Jameson’s ass, tattoos, or cock.

  The moon had fully risen, and the moonlight seemed brighter now, helping them traverse the terrain. It drenched the desert in silver light.

  Callie moved to take the lead again. She set a solid pace, and Brooks kept up without complaint. She was hoping they’d eventually come across a road, and then somewhere with a phone so they could call the team.

  The path opened up, and she moved to walk next to Brooks. She glanced sideways. He was alert and looking around.

  He’d held up incredibly well. He could handle himself, and he’d dealt with this ordeal like a trained operative.

  And she’d talked about her dad and Bec with him. Callie swallowed. She hadn’t talked about them for a really long time. After they’d died, her mom had tried to talk about them all the time, but Callie just couldn’t. Now, her mother rarely mentioned them.

  But her mom had never remarried and didn’t date, even though she was a beautiful woman. Losing Callie’s father had left scars on her mom.

  With Brooks, the need to talk about them had just welled up inside Callie. She’d wanted to get it out.

  She trusted him.

  Suddenly, she heard voices on the wind. She grabbed Brooks’ arm and jerked to a halt.

  “Quiet.”

  He tensed and Callie strained to hear.

  The voices were getting louder.

  “Down.”

  They both pressed their bellies to the sand. Callie pulled out her stolen Glock with one hand, and gripped Brooks’ arm with the other. She squeezed.

  Not far away, she made out a line of people. Shit. Was it Mr. Ordinary and his goons?

  But as the group got closer, she saw heavy-duty weapons and heard a smattering of Spanish. Okay, not their captors. Probably drug runners or people traffickers, which still were people they needed to avoid.

  She held still, barely daring to breathe, and watched the group move past them. Brooks didn’t move a muscle.

  When the group was far enough away, she tugged on Brooks’ arm. They both rose.

  Callie adjusted their course, angling away from the group’s direction. They moved silently and kept walking.

  Finally, she calculated they were far enough away to safely speak. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I have sand in some bad places, though.”

  She smiled. But before she could speak, a man barreled out of the darkness.

  Callie saw the gun aimed her way.

  Fuck. She kicked him hard and slammed a chop into his arm.

  The man cursed in Spanish and swung at her.

  She kicked again and the gun flew out of his hand, disappearing into the darkness. With a frustrated sound, the man tackled her. They hit the dirt and Callie grunted.

  They wrestled wildly and she got a grip on him. She tried to get him into a choke hold. Shit, the guy was built like a tank. He was a lot stronger than she was.

  He rolled and landed a punch to her stomach.

  The air rushed out of Callie, pain spearing through her body. She released him and rolled away.

  A hand sank into her hair, yanking hard. Her scalp felt like it was on fire.

  She tried to turn and saw the man grin at her.

  This was going to get ugly. When he yanked a knife off his belt, her chest locked. Really ugly.

  She managed to shove him away, and they both got to their feet. They circled each other. She was too focused to see where Brooks was. Her attacker darted in and slashed out. Callie’s shoulder burned.

  When the man rushed at her again, she blocked his next hit with her forearm.

  But he came back at her again. This time, her foot slipped and she fell. The man landed on top of her, sending more pain shooting through her. He forced the blade toward her gut and bore down. She grabbed his wrists, trying to shove him back. But he pushed the knife closer and closer to her skin.

  She felt the prick of it.

  Callie gritted her teeth, straining. God, she was going to get stabbed to death in the middle of the desert, in the middle of nowhere.

  Bang.

  The man flew backward.

  Sucking in air, Callie sat up, staring. There was a hole in the middle of the bastard’s forehead. She swiveled and saw Brooks holding her Glock.

  Rising, she took the gun off him.

  “This time I killed someone.” His voice was toneless.

  “This time you saved my life.” She cupped his jaw. “We have to go. The others will have heard the shot.”

  He nodded, his face wooden and blank.

  Then he looked down at her, and some life came back into his face. “You’re bleeding.”

  She swiped at the cut on her shoulder. “It’ll hold for now.”

  She quickly grabbed her attacker’s weapon as well. Pulling Brooks behind her, they set off at a fast pace. The cut on her shoulder was stinging, but it would be far worse if drug runners or traffickers nabbed them.

  As they jogged, she kept glancing at Brooks. His face was frighteningly blank, and Brooks never looked blank.

  But she couldn’t deal with that now. They had to get out of here.

  Lights in the distance caught her eye. Headlights.

  “There’s a road,” she said.

  Brooks nodded, but was still silent. They kept going, and finally, they reached a narrow, paved road.

  Callie studied their surroundings, feeling heat radiating off the surface. “This way.”

  Continuing to scan the nighttime darkness, they jogged up the road. A short while later, more lights came into view.

  A roadhouse. Thank God. She heard the distant thump of music.

  They slowed to a walk. The parking lot was filled with beaten-up trucks and a line of Harleys by the front door. She grabbed Brooks’ hand and led him around the back of the roadhouse.

  “We can’t go in covered in blood.” Hopefully, there would be somewhere out back where they could clean up. “Brooks?”

  “Yeah.”

  She stopped and faced him. A single, dim light illuminated the area at the back of the roadhouse. “Thanks for saving me.”

  He gave her a nod.

  She went up on her toes and cupped his cheeks. “You had no choice. He did. He chose to attack us, and he meant us harm. He was going to kill me.”

  She saw a flicker in Brooks’ eyes.

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  His hands moved to her wrists, gripping onto them tightly.

  She hated seeing him like this. Then she decided to go with her gut.

  She moved closer, leaned up, and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him gently, moving her lips over his.

  Brooks came to life.

  He groaned, his arms circling her body. He deepened the kiss and spun her.

  Callie gasped into his mouth and found her back pressed against the wall, Brooks’ big, hard body pinning her there.

  He devoured her.

  Desire exploded, and Callie kissed him back hungrily.

  * * *

  God damn. Brooks had never felt need like this before.

  The world spun, and he found his hands full of Callie’s fine ass. The kiss went on forever, tongues tangling. God, she tasted like heaven.

  In the distance, a door banged open and he heard sounds—laughter, music.

  It broke the moment and they pulled apart, panting. He let her go and her feet dropped back to the ground.

  Jeez. Hell. Fuck.

  Brooks ran his hand through his hair. “That was…” Shit, think, Brooks. “That was…”

  “Adr
enaline, Brooks.” Callie reached up and tightened her ponytail. “It makes you do…out-of-character things. I’m just glad you have color back in your cheeks.”

  “Right. Yes, right.” Adrenaline. That was all this was. She was his friend. She’d come for him, and they’d just escaped a terrible situation.

  She’d risked her life for him, and he mauled her. He sucked in a breath. Crap, now he knew what she tasted like, what her sweet ass felt like in his palms. How the hell was he supposed to forget that?

  “Here.” Callie pulled him through a back door, and into a service hallway. Immediately to their right was a door that was labeled a bathroom.

  The tiles had probably been white once, a long time ago. Now they were a grimy gray and covered in…unidentifiable stains.

  Callie moved to the sink and turned on the water. She grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser and shoved them under the water.

  “Shirt off,” she ordered.

  Brooks unbuttoned his shirt, and she wiped his chest and face. Her fingers brushed his skin and he stiffened. One finger brushed his nipple and he stifled a groan.

  God, this was torture.

  Then he looked down at her and saw that her black tank was soaked with blood. It was smeared around a nasty cut on her shoulder. The darkness had hidden just how bad it looked.

  “Hell, Callie.” He carefully gripped her bicep. “That looks—”

  “It’s not too deep.”

  He yanked a wad of paper towels from the wall, dampened them, then concentrated on cleaning the gash on her shoulder. The bleeding had slowed a lot, but she’d probably need stiches. Gently, he wiped the blood off her skin.

  Damn, he hated seeing her hurt. He rubbed his fingers down her arm. Hated seeing blood on her gorgeous skin.

  When he looked up, she was watching his face.

  “Brooks.” Her voice was husky.

  He realized he was stroking her. “Sorry.” He lifted his hands. “I’m totally being creepy.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “We’re friends. I’m sorry I—” devoured you “—kissed you.”

  “I’m not.”

  He stilled. “You’re not?”

  “You’re a hell of a good kisser, Brooks.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then she took the towels, finishing up cleaning her shoulder. Finally, she tossed them in the overflowing trash can. “There. We’re mostly respectable enough to head into the bar and call the team.”

  Brooks nodded. He couldn’t quite get his brain functioning.

  They exited the small bathroom and went down the hall leading into the roadhouse. The bar was dark and the music loud. It was a pretty seedy establishment, and no one gave them more than a passing glance.

  They made their way to the long, wooden bar. Callie leaned forward, talking to the bartender, and asked to use the phone. The man tossed a towel over his shoulder and nodded.

  “Stay here,” she said to Brooks.

  He collapsed onto a stool at the bar and watched the bartender wave Callie around the bar. Brooks noticed that the man was checking her out at the same time and scowled. He couldn’t blame the guy, since she was gorgeous, but still, it pissed him off.

  She’d liked their kiss.

  Could Callie…be attracted to him? Brooks tapped his foot against the stool. He wasn’t sure if he could go back to the way things had been before. Not with this hard stone of arousal in his gut and tingling awareness of her.

  He released a breath. It didn’t change the fact that she was out of his league. She was beautiful, tough, accomplished. They might have some fun, but she’d lose interest eventually.

  Callie finished on the phone and turned. She shot him a wide smile.

  Brooks’ cock went hard. Hell. As she moved back to him, he swiveled on the stool to hide it.

  “Lachlan and Seth are on the way,” she said. “They’re borrowing a helo.”

  “Great.”

  “As we’d guessed, we’re in Arizona. South-west corner, not far from the border.” Callie leaned against the bar. “We’ll get back, clean up, and then we’ll get to work finding out who this Mr. Ordinary works for.” Her face turned serious. “And exactly what this wind jewel is.” She patted his shoulder.

  Back to business as usual.

  Brooks swallowed. Once they got back, things between him and Callie would go back to normal.

  He just wasn’t sure if he was happy about that, or disappointed.

  Chapter Seven

  It was almost anticlimactic.

  Seth and Lachlan arrived in a sleek helicopter, landing outside the roadhouse. Several drunken revelers came out to watch.

  As Callie jogged toward the helo with Brooks by her side, Lachlan slid his long body out. Seth, wearing a headset, waved from the cockpit.

  Lachlan hugged her, and then moved to slap Brooks on the back. “Damn good to see you guys.”

  Once they were settled aboard the helicopter, they lifted off. Brooks sprawled in the seat beside her, looking out over the dark desert below. Then he lifted his head and their gazes met. A faint line of color filled his cheeks.

  And a curl of heat wound through Callie’s belly.

  She thought back to their kiss. Who would’ve thought that Brooks Jameson could kiss like a warrior back from pillaging?

  “Debrief,” Lachlan said through the headset, turning from the passenger seat in front to look at them.

  Callie recapped what happened. Lachlan’s jaw got tighter and tighter.

  Then he gave her a nod. “We’ll do a full debrief tomorrow, and try and find out who these guys are. Then we’ll make a plan.”

  Silence fell, and when Brooks dozed off, she wasn’t surprised. It had been an intense twenty-four hours. She took her time studying his stubbled cheeks. The bit of scruff gave him a hot, rugged edge.

  God. Callie tamped down her badly-misbehaving hormones.

  “So, no idea who this Mr. Ordinary belongs to?” Seth asked.

  Callie looked at the back of Seth’s head. “No.”

  “Whoever they are, we’d better find this wind jewel before they do,” Lachlan added.

  It wasn’t much longer before the lights of Las Vegas came into view. They swept in to land at McCarran Airport.

  They landed right outside the Bunker, and Callie stared at the light spilling out of the windows. Damn, it was nice to be back.

  Once the skids touched down, Callie reached out and touched Brooks’ shoulder. “Hey, we’re back.”

  He opened his eyes and let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Then he groaned. “I’d kill for a hot shower.”

  “I know the feeling.” And instantly she imagined bronze skin and ink covered in water. More heat bloomed.

  He frowned. “Better take care of that cut.”

  “Yes, doctor. And you have some bruising and burns that need—”

  “Later,” he said.

  As soon as they’d climbed out of the helo, Blair strode out of the Bunker. “Hey, no taking on bad guys alone, you two.”

  The rest of the team appeared—Smith, Kinsey, Axel. There were more hugs and back slaps.

  “Brooks, you’re supposed to stay in your computer room, mi hermano,” Axel said.

  Brooks shrugged a shoulder. “Fancied a trek through the desert.”

  “Glad you’re both okay.” Kinsey shot them a wide smile.

  Once they were inside, Blair pointed to the medical room. “Kimura, get your shirt off.”

  “Don’t get kinky on me, Mason.” Callie followed her friend into the small room. When she lost sight of Brooks, she felt…unsettled. They’d spent every second together for the last day.

  She stripped her tank off and Blair whistled.

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. Getting electrocuted was no fun, but the guy with the knife was a total drag.” She watched Blair pull out the first aid gear. “Brooks took him down.”

  “Brooks?” Blair tilted her head.

  “Head shot. I would have had a nice gut wound if
he hadn’t done it.”

  Blair started cleaning the cut with antiseptic wipes. “Man of hidden talents.”

  Callie shifted on the bench. “You can say that again.”

  Blair’s hand stilled. “What was that tone of voice?”

  “What tone of voice?”

  “Kinda wistful, a little husky and sexy.”

  Callie looked at the wall. “No idea what you’re talking about, Mason.”

  “Something happened. And I don’t mean anything to do with guns, knives, or bad guys. Spill, Kimura.”

  Callie pulled in a breath. Blair was one of her closest friends. “Well, he sort of kissed my brains out.”

  “What?” Shock was stamped on Blair’s features. “Brooks? You mean, our Brooks?”

  “Yes. You can’t have missed that the guy is built.”

  “Sure, but I’ve noticed in a brotherly kind of way.”

  Callie definitely was not feeling brotherly toward him. “He was freaked out after killing that guy, we were running on adrenaline. I kissed him in a sweet, comforting way…”

  “And?”

  “It exploded. The man kisses like a freight train. It was totally a shoved-against-the-wall, panty-melting kiss.”

  Blair held a hand up. “Stop. I think I had a mini orgasm.”

  Callie picked up a roll of bandage and threw it at her.

  Blair’s nose wrinkled. “But this is Brooks.” Her face turned serious. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Right now, Callie was feeling tired, confused, and horny. Not a good combo to be making important decisions on.

  “Okay.” Blair went back to Callie’s wound. “I’m going to put some glue in this cut.”

  Callie nodded.

  “Whatever happens, don’t hurt him.”

  Callie stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t keep guys around for very long, Cal.”

  “I don’t have any time. I have a demanding job—”

  “That’s not it, and we both know it.”

  Callie huffed. “Are you calling me a heart-breaking hussy?”

  “No. Look, two consenting adults who want to enjoy each other, that’s fine… But Brooks is a good guy.”

  “I know that.” Callie sat in silence, as Blair finished up bandaging her wound. Next, she pulled out a small hand-held device. It was one of Ty’s latest toys. The laser could speed up healing bruises, taking it from days to hours. She sat still, her mind full of a tattooed geek while Blair waved the device over her body.