by Mandy Harbin
He just hoped that was the only time he’d have to shield her from gunfire. He’d been very meticulous in planning the absolute safest agenda he could. He was pretty sure whoever attacked them just happened to be at the right place at the right time. Not that it mattered. He’d have to reevaluate his plans and make modifications.
He really didn’t want to take on any other insurgents without his team. His brothers. He was pleased how quickly these new guys reacted. Still, he wasn’t used to working alongside them. And Caitlin? She was a complete wildcard. No military training at all, focusing more on her work than on her surroundings. Whoever called in that favor knew what they were doing. Because she had no idea exactly what she’d just stepped into, and Axle was now duty-bound to protect her.
And he would. But he’d gladly stand in the line of fire and take a bullet for her. The understanding did something funny to his chest, so he let go of her leg and faced the front, hoping the physical disconnect would help. Yeah, getting shot would hurt, but the knowledge that she could be injured—or worse—fucking hurt him in a different way…and not touching didn’t help that reality at all.
If he didn’t get a handle on whatever the fuck she was doing to him, it wouldn’t matter if he did get taken out. He’d be toast anyway.
Chapter Five
Caitlin was still rattled by the time they’d made it back to base that evening. She was a professional, so she’d done her job, interviewed the soldiers in the field, asked them about their knowledge of the MOAB dropped in Nangarhar. None of them had said anything to make her think there was some cover-up or more going on outside of what NATO had stated in the press release following the air strike. Of course, that didn’t mean much. The intel could be outside of their job scopes, or it could even be classified. She needed to get in the field and question the locals. They wouldn’t have to understand specific military dynamics to know if something was up. If there were men with guns trekking around in the days before and after the air strike, chances were someone saw something. People didn’t forget experiencing something like that firsthand. Even what seemed only inconsequential to a bystander could be something of major importance to her story.
For about the hundredth time today, visions of what happened earlier flashed through her mind. She’d known there was a risk she’d get shot at. It had been a lecture her father and Hunter had given her. In addition to her boss. Even Heather had tried warning her. But knowing it was possible and it actually happening—the first time out, no less—were two completely different things.
She wanted to call Heather. Actually, she wanted to talk to Hunter, but she didn’t have another way to reach him. He’d been the one to instigate her protection, so she wanted to find out just how he knew Axle. After what happened today, that information held even more importance, and she wasn’t even thinking about how he’d made her heart race. Oh, that had been the initial reason she’d wanted to find out. No mistaking that, but that knowledge carried more importance after getting shot at.
Even with her head between her knees, Caitlin could sense nothing but calm efficiency from Axle. He’d been quick. Possibly even deadly. She had no idea if any reconnaissance team went out to investigate the area and look for bodies, or if something like that was chalked up to the battles of war with no importance placed on whether or not any enemy forces survived the return of fire. She could see both sides of the argument when she looked at it objectively. That meant, he could have easily killed someone and not know it. Realistically, she knew that was a product of war; she’d just never been up close and personal with that aspect, which was why it was extremely hard to wrap her head around it when her life almost became a statistic.
She reached for her laptop. Satellite calls were limited anyway and there was a nine-and-a-half-hour time difference. Surely Hunter was on social media. If she found him, she could send him a message now or have his info ready to try a video chat with him first thing in the morning. She searched all the major platforms. Nothing. The man was either too paranoid to put his personal information on the World Wide Web, or he had his profiles completely locked down. Either was an honest possibility. She even looked at Heather’s list of friends on Facebook and didn’t see anybody named Hunter.
Not getting anywhere with Hunter, she decided to send Heather a message that she wanted to talk to her brother. It was too early in Arkansas to do a live chat right now. At least sending a message would get the ball rolling, and hopefully with minimal back-and-forth, she could set up a time for a video call with Hunter.
After opening up messenger, she saw Maya’s name in a group chat the three of them had several months ago—the last time Caitlin rescheduled a girls’ weekend.
Maya. New energy ignited in her. Maya wasn’t just Heather’s other best friend, she was Hunter’s girlfriend. Caitlin understood how Hunter might’ve kept his sister from linking anything to him online, but if his girlfriend wanted to splash his face all over social media, he probably didn’t have much say in the matter. Besides the fact men tended to placate their significant others, she’d heard Maya had Hunter wrapped around her pinky. She could bat her lashes, and Hunter would give her whatever she wanted.
That was how it should be. Maya was a lucky woman, not only because she had a great guy who loved her unconditionally, but also because that man was Hunter.
She pulled up Maya’s page and started scanning. Even if Maya had her page locked down, it wouldn’t matter. The two of them were friends online, too. Caitlin would be able to see everything she’d posted.
Jackpot. There wasn’t much, but there was a “Call Me Ishmael” tagged in one photo with a heart emoji. She hadn’t seen Hunter in years, but she’d recognize him anywhere. She went to Ishmael’s profile page, and it, too, was private. She couldn’t see anything but a profile picture of a whale. At first, she didn’t understand the significance of the profile name, thinking it could just be completely random in an effort to keep from being tracked down. Maybe even something that only held meaning for Maya and Hunter? She didn’t know, but one quick Internet search answered that question.
It was the first line of Moby Dick, which had been written by Herman Melville.
She could see a man likening any dick reference to having a large penis, but she knew something about Hunter he rarely shared.
Something he absolutely hated.
His first name was Herman. Odds were, this account belonged to Hunter.
She clicked the message icon, and started a brief text, informing him it was Caitlin, and that she wanted to talk as soon as he had a chance. She didn’t provide any details in writing. Although she was pretty sure this was Hunter’s account, she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Plus, there was no reason to type out a big long message if this wasn’t an account he was active on.
With that thought, she navigated to Heather’s page and sent her a message as well. If that wasn’t Hunter she’d just contacted, Caitlin didn’t want to waste precious time chasing down a dead lead. She informed Heather she needed to speak to her brother right away. Since she knew Heather was on the other end of this message, she didn’t have to be careful with identifying her location. She went into details about the time zone and a few possible time slots she’d be available for video chat. First thing in the morning for her would be mid-afternoon for him. That might be too difficult for him since that timeframe would probably still put him working at the garage. If he chose to contact her when he woke up, she’d have to stay up late at night to make that work. That was fine. She’d do whatever she needed to talk to him and find out what he knew about Axle. Hopefully, that insight would help her cope with this sudden anxiety.
She had every right to be freaked out, though. She’d been shot at!
How could she push the fear away and do her job when she couldn’t make it one day without fearing for her life? Her feelings of death were valid, but if she was completely honest, it wasn’t just concern for her own life that worried her. What would happen if the men she was with were i
njured or killed? What would she do then? Away from base with no one to protect her…
Suddenly, the rule about her not being able to carry a weapon seemed damned ridiculous.
She had retreated to her room under the guise of work, unable to face Axle after him seeing her act all scared. She’d thrown herself into her job and pretended it hadn’t happened in order to get through the rest of the day. But now, he was just the man she needed to see.
She yanked her door open, intending to cross the hall and bang on his door, but his had already been opened. She hadn’t had time to cross the distance to his room when he’d shot up and rushed to her.
“Where are you going?” he asked, standing tall and commanding right in front of her. His quiet speed stunned her.
“I…er…was coming to see you.”
His shoulders relaxed, but air of authority wafted around him. “Good. I don’t have to remind you that if you intend on exiting this building, I have to be with you.”
She glared at him. “Then why did you just remind me?”
He huffed out a sigh. “Just making sure you get that.”
“I’m not twelve.” There was no need to patronize her.
He smiled in a way that warmed her insides, and gave her a momentary sense of calm. “No. You’re definitely not.” Just as quick as the smile appeared, it was gone. “What do you want?” he asked, all business, and any minor relaxation she’d felt had disappeared too.
She almost lost her nerve, but this was too serious. It wasn’t just her life she had to worry about. It was her survival. “A gun.”
He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I want a gun. After what happened today—” He started shaking his head, and it irritated her, but she continued anyway. “I think it’s stupid for me not—”
“No,” he said, slicing his hand through the air, forcing her to stop. “Don’t even go there. I already told you that’s not possible. If you carry a gun, you’re considered a combatant and then anybody can come after you.”
“Are you kidding me? No, really. I think it’s pretty freaking clear I’ll be shot at whether or not I’m packing.”
He ran a hand through his short hair as a low groan escaped. “I get that today was scary—”
“That’s not the point,” she snapped, and almost stomped her foot. Thank God she didn’t because it would’ve totally negated the whole, I’m not twelve defense. “It’s dangerous out there. What if we get separated—”
“Won’t happen.”
“What if everyone gets blown up, and I’m left to defend myself?” she said, wanting him to grasp where this panic was coming from. On an intellectual level, she understood the rule, but it wasn’t as if she could call foul and get special treatment from the big bad terrorists.
“Caitlin, you’re letting your fear control your emotions.”
“Damn right I am.” She was breathing heavy. She knew this was a long shot, but she had to make him understand how important it was to her. She glanced around as panic settled over her. “I have to be able to defend myself if you are captured…or, or, or worse…have body parts scattered all over the place.” Oh God, she was going to be sick…or pass out...or—
He grabbed her shoulders, and she gasped. “Caitlin.”
She shook her head. She was going to hyperventilate.
“Take a deep breath.” She tried, but it was shallow. He ordered her to do it again. “C’mon. Breathe with me, now.”
She watched his lips and tried timing her breaths with his. Her lungs burned, but she did it.
“That’s better,” he whispered as he released her.
Her face flamed with embarrassment. Why was she even on this assignment if she couldn’t handle the risks? She squeezed her eyes shut, not knowing what to say or what to do at this point. Not even a gun dealer in Texas would give her a firearm after how she just acted.
“The first time I got shot at,” he said, and she opened her eyes. He’d leaned back against the wall, the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. “One of the men in my unit got killed.”
“Wow.” She watched him as he seemed to go to another place mentally. She was sure wherever it was, it was a lot grimmer than today.
“I went back to base and got drunk. It’s not really advised, but it was either find the bottom of a bottle or find someone to beat up. Fight or flight instinct’s a bitch when you can’t actually flee.” He blinked at her, seeming to come back to the presence. “Going through that? It’s real, and it’s raw, darlin’. Believe me, I know what you’re feeling.”
She was calmer now, and for that she was glad, but it didn’t change her reality. Hopefully now she had her wits about her to articulate it better. “The difference, Axle, is you know how to fight. I don’t. You’re skilled in combat, which is awesome, but you also have help.” She waved her hands at him. “You don’t have that big rifle on you right now, but I see a gun on your leg. I bet you have other weapons, too. A knife? I have nothing to defend myself with.”
He studied her for a long, agonizing minute. Then he jerked his head to the side. “Let’s go.”
She followed him outside.
“Hop in,” he said after walking to an ATV.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she climbed in.
“You’ll see.”
They drove down the dirt road and pulled up next to what looked like a target range. She hadn’t had time for a complete tour of the base, so she couldn’t be sure. “We’re shooting?” she asked, a smile forming slowly. If so, did that mean he was going to show her how to shoot a gun and let her carry one around? She’d never shot one before. Probably need to keep that little bit of info to myself.
Axle got out and she didn’t wait for him to tell her to follow. If he was going to get her a weapon, she wanted to do it before he changed his mind. When she got to the front of the ATV, he grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him to the side of the area, moving quickly. She ignored her heart’s sudden spike at his touch and blamed it on adrenaline of getting to fire a weapon.
“In a minute.”
He turned to face her and placed his hands on her shoulders, staring down into her eyes.
Unable to take the silence, she darted her gaze around and asked, “What’s going on?”
“You made a good point—”
“Yay—”
“In case I become incapacitated and there are no other fighters around to defend you, you need to know some basic self-defense.”
“What?” The word came out as a whine and her shoulders dropped. She’d gotten excited at the idea of learning to fire a weapon, and now he was totally bursting her bubble. “C’mon. I’m not going to be carrying a set of car keys to stab a mugger.”
“A woman your size can take down a man my size with little practice.”
“Oh, balls,” she muttered, and rolled her eyes. “You’re really going to show me self-defense? How in the world do you expect me to be able to get close enough to jab my finger in an assailant’s eyeball when he’s carrying a machine gun? Or stomp on his foot when he’s throwing a grenade at me?”
“Have you taken defense courses before?”
“Yeah, in college. Though a drunken frat boy isn’t in the same realm as an Islamic extremist juiced up on jihad.”
He mumbled something about her being impossible and a few other words she didn’t quite catch. “Look, I’m trying to help you out here. Make you feel better about being outside the wire. Do you want my help or not? Because we can go back to the barracks and do a whole lotta nothing ’till morning.”
She pressed her lips together, realizing this offer was more than she thought she’d get when she’d first asked. Besides, she knew she was too keyed up to sit in her room right now and focus on her story—or lack thereof. “Fine.”
He clutched her wrist. “When someone grabs you by the arm—”
She brought her elbow in and twisted her arm, breaking his loose hold. “I know what an arm sweep is. Can’t
you do better than that?” She’d meant it more out of playful irritation. She had no doubt he could do much, much worse.
Without warning, he dropped his hand onto her shoulder, but Caitlin was ready. Her self-defense class might’ve been back in her college days, but after the uncomfortable encounter she’d had at the governor’s mansion that night back in Arkansas, she’d brushed up and regularly practiced the skills she’d learned. She slammed her hand on top of his and swung her other arm around, knocking his away.
He didn’t give her a break before his next attempt. He gripped her other shoulder harder than the last time, and she grabbed his hand again, this time capturing his thumb and twisting herself to make him bend over. Then she brought up her leg, but stopped short of actually kneeing him in the face, wanting to show him what she could do without actually hurting him. “Station also made us go through training before my first overseas assignment.”
He shifted slightly and she grunted with effort to kept hold of him.
“Point taken. Now let go so I don’t hurt you.”
“You would expect me to let go of an attacker?” she teased.
She shouldn’t have.
So fast that she wasn’t able to process what had happened, he’d extracted himself, whirled behind her, and whipped his arm around her neck, slamming her back against his front.
She panicked and grabbed his arm, but he’d already gotten the upper hand.
“Should’ve tucked your chin.”
Instead of responding, she wiggled, trying to get away. He was fast, but she’d practiced surprise attacks.
“Stop trying to wrestle me. You’re just gonna waste energy.”
Caitlin froze, knowing he was right.
“If you get pinned, your go-to move is to strike.” He leaned in closer, his breath tickling her ear. “Stomp my foot. Dig those tiny little nails in my arm. Whatever you have to so you can turn. Then you can punch in the balls or hit the face.”
She knew this. She should feel irritated with herself that she hadn’t responded as quickly as earlier, but with him surrounding her, the only thing she could feel was heat. She was acutely aware of his arms around her, his mouth a hairsbreadth from her skin. Her heart took off even as she tried to keep from panting. She told herself to relax, ordered her body to release its tension, and somehow, she found the will to do so, to drop her hands from the arm currently caged around her neck. Unable to talk just yet, she nodded, and then eased her head against his chest.