Sharpshooter

by Cynthia Eden

  Then she was marching forward.

  Gunner stepped out of her path.

  She reached for the door, then stopped. “Did you really have to pull me aside just to tell me that you didn’t love me?” The pain in her voice seemed to tear into him. “Trust me, Gunner.” She glanced back at him, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I already knew that.”

  She left him.

  I never said I didn’t love you.

  He sucked a deep breath. One. Another. When his hands were steady, he left that room. A turn down the hallway showed Sydney just slipping past the guard.

  Gunner’s stare slid over the hall. Slade was being held in an interrogation room. That meant the area adjacent to that room would be designed for surveillance.

  Gunner’s steps were silent on the heavily carpeted floor. After about ten feet, he stopped, going not in the room with Slade, but into the surveillance room.

  The surveillance room was dark, but he didn’t bother turning on the light. Through the big wall of glass—a two-way mirror—he could see perfectly into the area next door. He could see Sydney. See Slade.

  Mercer had sent him after Sydney because the boss had wanted to make sure that Slade went in for his treatment.

  But Gunner knew that Slade didn’t want him anywhere close by, so he’d keep his distance.

  He’d just taken the first step to keeping that distance. When his brother was well—and he would be well; Gunner would do everything possible to make that happen—Slade would have his chance with Sydney.

  After his years of captivity, Slade deserved happiness.

  Gunner would make sure he got it.

  * * *

  “WHY THE HELL am I here?” Slade demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sick of this EOD crap. You hear me, Sydney? Sick of it.”

  She swallowed and eased into the chair across from him. Mercer’s words replayed in her mind. Increased aggression. Paranoia. Yes, she’d sure seen that with him. But how much was due to the drugs? And how much was a result of the torture that she feared might have fractured his mind?

  “Slade, you need help.” She kept her voice soft and easy, trying to soothe him.

  He shoved out of his chair and leaped to his feet “What I need is to have my brother locked away, but the EOD isn’t doing that.” His cheeks flushed. “I gave them time. I gave you all time, and that time’s run out. I’m going to the press. I’m telling them everything.”

  She stood, reaching for his hands. “You know the EOD’s work is classified.”

  “I don’t care.” He yanked away from her.

  “The man you used to be—he cared.”

  “That man died in a jungle.

  She flinched. “I think...I think that man is still inside.” She had to be very careful. “I want to help you get him back. I want to help you.”

  His eyes searched hers. “How you gonna do that?”

  This was the tricky part. “Mercer has a place for you to go. The doctors there can get you well.”

  “You think I’m sick?” he snarled.

  Yes. “I think...” She inhaled a heavy breath that seemed to chill her lungs. “I think your captors gave you something while you were down there. They made you...take some drugs, didn’t they?”

  He stilled.

  So she kept talking. “The drugs are changing you. Making you do things, say things, that you wouldn’t normally do. But we can help you—”

  “You’re not going to stay with me.” His flat words had her floundering.

  “Slade, I—”

  “Whenever I touch you...” He came closer and touched her cheek.

  She flinched.

  “You do that,” he said, and his hand dropped. “You can’t stand for me to touch you anymore, can you?”

  “Slade...” She locked her knees and refused to give in to the urge to back away from him. “You need the help—”

  “I need you, but he’s between us. Always between us.”

  “This isn’t about Gunner!” It wasn’t. “It’s about getting you back to normal. Getting your life back.”

  “What life?” Spittle flew from his mouth. “Without you, what the hell am I supposed to do?” Then he moved quickly, faster than she’d anticipated, especially with his limp, and his hands grabbed her arms, right under her elbows. He yanked her up on her tiptoes, forcing her body close to his. “Tell me, are you going to marry me, Sydney?”

  “We can’t—we can’t even think about that now. We have to get you well. That’s the priority, that’s—”

  “Are you going to marry me?” He was yelling at her.

  This wasn’t the man she’d known. “I want him back,” she said, lifting her chin. “I want the man I knew back. We’re getting you help. No matter what else happens, we’re getting you help.”

  His hold tightened. “You won’t answer my damn question.” His hold was so hard that she knew he would leave bruises on her arms. “Have you been with him?”

  “Slade—”

  “You had sex with my brother.”

  She flinched. I made love with him.

  “And you won’t marry me. Back in Peru, you said...you said you still loved me, but you didn’t mean the words, did you? Just trying to keep me calm, controlled.” He said the last word as if it were a curse.

  Sydney shook her head. “That’s not what I was doing! I care about you, Slade. A part of me will always love you.”

  He dropped her. She stumbled, almost fell when her knees wanted to wobble. Her heart was racing fast, as fast as it did when she was in combat.

  Slade turned away from her. “I don’t want your help, Sydney. I don’t want Mercer’s help. I don’t want anyone’s help.” He strode toward the door.

  She rushed after him, grabbed his arm.

  Slade spun around and hit her. Sydney wasn’t expecting the move, so she didn’t have time to block the blow. This time, her stumble wasn’t from weak knees. Then he was shoving her, slamming her against the wall. “You think you’re getting away from me? You’ll never get away from me!”

  She tried to kick out at him, but he trapped her legs and—

  “Let her go!” A roar. Gunner’s roar. The door banged against the wall, and in the next breath, Gunner was grabbing Slade and throwing him across the room.

  Sydney tried to suck in deep breaths. She’d been in fights before. She’d been on battlefields, but...but this was different. This was Slade.

  Gunner.

  Gunner caught her hands and tucked her gently into his side. “Are you okay, baby?”

  Slade snarled.

  Gunner put his body in front of hers. “You know better than to ever raise a hand to her. Our grandfather taught us...you never hurt a woman. You know that.”

  “That fool didn’t teach me a thing!”

  Sydney peered over Gunner’s shoulder. Saw that the guard was holding Slade in a tight grip.

  “He was a good man.” Gunner’s voice boiled with fury. “And you were once, too.”

  But Slade...laughed?

  “You will be again.” Now that booming voice—that came from Mercer. He’d just appeared in the doorway, right behind Slade and the guard. “We’re getting you help, son.”

  Slade broke away from the guard and lunged for Gunner. “I’ll kill you!” His fist flew toward Gunner’s face.

  But Gunner caught that fist. Caught it and shook his head. “No, you won’t. And you won’t ever hurt her again, either.” He grabbed Slade, twisted his body around and held him in an unbreakable hold. “You’re going in for any kind of help that the doctors can give you.”

  “It’s a treatment facility,” Mercer murmured, watching them all carefully. “For veterans. They can give you what you need.”

  Slade was trying to break away from Gunner. But Gunner held him in a tight grip.

  The guard came forward and Mercer gave him—handcuffs?—to put on Slade. More guards entered the room, and they all started dragging Slade out.

&n
bsp; Her heart was still racing too fast. Her hands were trembling, so she balled them into fists.

  “You think you’re safe with him?” Slade shouted. He wasn’t going easily. Kicking, head-butting. “You don’t know what he’s really like!”

  At that moment, she felt as if she didn’t know what anyone was really like. Her jaw hurt from where he’d hit her, and her arms throbbed. Nausea rolled in her stomach, and her cheeks seemed to be going numb.

  “He wanted you, so he took you!” Slade’s voice was just getting louder. “He got me out of his way once, and he’s doing it again now!”

  “Damn it, I’m trying to get you well!” Gunner snapped.

  “He won’t let you go—he won’t! If he can’t have you, then he’ll make sure...he’ll make sure that no one else does, either! That’s why he’s sending me away, that’s why—”

  The guards pulled him through the door. Sydney kept trying to suck in some much-needed oxygen. The room was spinning on her. Why was the room spinning?

  “I’ll take care of him,” Mercer said as he slipped away to follow the guards and the sound of Slade’s yells.

  Her cheeks didn’t feel cold anymore. Pinpricks of heat were shooting across them.

  “Sydney...” Gunner turned back to face her. His face was locked in tight, angry lines. “Did he hurt you?” His gaze locked on her jaw. “Hell, of course he did. I see the mark he left on you.”

  She shook her head. “I—I’m fine.” The words were such a lie. Sydney took a step forward. Don’t fall apart now. Don’t. Soldiers never fall apart. That was what her dad used to tell her. “A good soldier never falls. You carry on, no matter what.”

  She took another step, trying to carry on.

  But the spinning wouldn’t stop. And the room got dark so fast. She tried to grab for Gunner, but then she couldn’t grab anything. Her body went limp, and Sydney felt herself crashing to the floor.

  She couldn’t even cry out Gunner’s name.

  Couldn’t do anything...but collapse.

  * * *

  “SYDNEY!” GUNNER CAUGHT her before she hit the floor. He dived forward and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her up into his arms, against his chest, holding her as carefully as he could. “Syd?”

  Her head sagged back. Her eyes were closed.

  Fear stabbed into him as he rushed for the door. “I need help, now!” His bellowing voice seemed to echo down the hall.

  Slade was near the elevator. He turned, and his face went slack with shock when he saw Sydney in Gunner’s arms.

  “What did you do?” Slade shouted.

  Slade had been the one to hit her. The one to hurt her. And Gunner had never wanted to attack another man more in his life.

  His brother.

  And he could have ripped him apart. When he’d seen Slade punch Sydney...

  “Get a medic!” Mercer barked; then he was running toward them. “What happened to her?”

  The guards pulled Slade onto the elevator.

  Gunner kept his tight hold on Sydney. “She passed out.” She’d been trying to reach for him. There had been confusion and fear in her eyes. She’d wanted him.

  He hadn’t been able to get to her fast enough.

  He pulled her closer, held her tighter.

  Nothing could be wrong with Sydney.

  As he stared down at her, desperate, Sydney’s eyelashes began to flutter.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered. Please. Because he needed to see that green gaze again. Needed to see her, without the fear in her eyes.

  Slowly, her eyes opened. She stared up at him in surprised confusion. “Gun...ner? What’s happening?”

  The medic was running down the hallway toward them.

  He wanted to kiss her, wanted to bury his face in the soft curve of her throat.

  But more than that...he wanted to find out what the hell had caused her to faint. What was wrong? He had to find out, and he had to make her better.

  Because he could take torture, betrayal, any number of sins and punishments tossed against him, but he couldn’t take anything happening to Sydney.

  Not. Her.

  * * *

  “I DON’T FAINT.” Sydney knew her words sounded angry, but she was angry.

  And a little scared.

  She was in the med room at the EOD. The doctor, a brunette with wire-framed glasses, was a woman whom Sydney actually considered a friend. So she figured she could just be blunt with Tina.

  “I’ve been in combat zones. I’ve been shot. I’ve been under attack from all sides.” She was currently sitting on an exam table. “I have never fainted before.”

  “Well, you did about twenty minutes ago.” Tina offered her a small smile. “So I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Sydney shook her head. “That wasn’t me.” She didn’t want to be weak. With everything going on with Slade and Gunner, she couldn’t afford any weakness.

  “Sure it was.” Tina lifted her clipboard. “I know you like to think you’re pretty much Superwoman, but no one can be strong 24/7.” Her eyebrows arched. “Not even you.”

  Sydney sucked in a deep breath. “I feel fine now.”

  “Except for that shiner on your jaw? Want to tell me how you got it?”

  Slade punched me. He went crazy. He was coming to hit me again, but Gunner stopped him.

  “No? Okay...” Tina drew out the word. “Then let’s start focusing on what might have made you faint.” She put down the clipboard. “Have you sustained any head injuries lately?”

  The back of her head was throbbing now. “I hit my head when I...fell.”

  “You mean when Slade hit you.” Crisp, without any emotion.

  “If you knew, then why’d you ask?”

  “Because we’re friends, and I thought you might want to talk.” Her fingers were carefully sifting through Sydney’s hair searching for the injury. “A slight concussion could explain your fainting spell.” A pause. “At least this way, I don’t have to ask if you’re pregnant.”

  Pregnant.

  Sydney’s heart stopped. “What?”

  Tina’s fingers carefully probed the bump on the back of Sydney’s head. “Pregnant. You know, as in, with child? That’s usually the reason most women get light-headed. It happens pretty early in term.”

  Sydney caught Tina’s hand and pushed those probing fingers away, even as she frantically counted up the days in her mind.

  “Uh, Sydney, why are you looking like that?”

  She swiped her tongue across lips that were way too dry. “Can you test me here?”

  Behind the lens of her glasses, Tina’s eyes widened, but she quickly schooled her expression. “Of course.” Then she hurried away only to return with a specimen container in her hand. But before she gave it to Sydney, she asked, quietly, “Are you okay?”

  Sydney slid from the table. Took the container and didn’t answer her.

  Five minutes later she had the results. Was she okay? Not exactly.

  Tina stared at her, waiting. A friend, not a doctor.

  She was pregnant.

  Chapter Six

  Sydney kept a small house just outside D.C. It was about a forty-five-minute drive, but the quiet privacy she received out there was well worth the trip.

  Considering all that was happening with Slade, Mercer hadn’t wanted her to leave the area yet. No trip to Baton Rouge, no returning to her real home, not yet, anyway.

  It had been three weeks since she found out about her pregnancy. Tina had done some additional testing and taken some blood samples, and she’d told Sydney that all seemed well. The changes in Sydney’s body were small. Some increased sensitivity in her breasts, a little light-headedness in the mornings. Nothing too extreme so far.

  And so far, only Tina knew about her condition.

  She hadn’t told Gunner yet, because she didn’t know how he’d react.

  The fact that he’d been avoiding her as if she were some kind of plague? Yes, well, that didn’t e
xactly make telling him any easier.

  Sydney sat on her porch, staring at the setting sun. The sky was red and orange, the hues stretching for as far as she could see. Her fingers were lying over her stomach. Just...there.

  A baby.

  Her baby.

  A vehicle’s engine growled, the sound too close. She tensed as her gaze darted toward the road. This was a dead-end street. Her house was on the end, and her only neighbors were out of town for a second honeymoon.

  She wondered just who her visitor could be.

  Then she saw Gunner’s truck, coming slowly but steadily toward her.

  Sydney didn’t rise to her feet. Didn’t rush out toward him, the way she had done too many times in the past. She just kept swinging, nice and casual, and soon Gunner was in her driveway. He climbed out of the truck and headed toward her porch.

  As he approached, he didn’t start speaking. Just stared at her with those dark eyes. What had made him come visit her? Had he finally decided that he just couldn’t live without her? Because she’d had that fantasy a time or twenty in the past two weeks.

  She forced her hand away from her stomach. “Gunner, I—”

  “Slade’s better.”

  Sydney blinked. “That’s wonderful.” She’d called for updates but hadn’t learned much. The doctors had sequestered Slade during his treatment.

  “They did an experimental therapy with him, to help push him through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. Mercer says that while it won’t be one hundred percent, Slade should soon be more like the man we remembered.” He climbed onto the bottom porch step. The old wood squeaked beneath his boot. “He’s going to have to deal with PTSD, but he can get through this, Sydney. He can be the man we knew.”

  She rose to her feet. “That’s so good to hear.” Because she was tired of seeing nightmares in which Slade came at her with fury on his face and with his fists swinging. “I hope he can find some peace.”

  “He wants to talk to you.”

  Now, that surprised her. “And what? You’re his errand boy? Last I heard, he was screaming that you were the enemy.”

  “We’re making progress on that.” A pause as his gaze seemed to linger on her face. “He’s out now, still under supervision from the EOD, but he’s in his own apartment. He—he said you won’t talk to him.”