Storm (Special Forces: Operation Alpha): A Linear Tactical Series Novel

by Janie Crouch

  Noah thought about this. There had come moments when he hadn’t been so sure he could overcome his demons. When the darkness had threatened to close in and pull him under. When he would’ve given anything to escape, even temporarily.

  Even now, he heard his men’s screams in his nightmares. His friends. He’d watched them die in that market, watched them bleed their lives away along with so many others who’d been too close to the suicide bomber to survive the blast.

  The toughest men he’d ever met. Men who could withstand days on end of sandstorms, blazing heat, surviving on little food and barely minutes of sleep. Who’d put their bodies through training so intense it was nearly unbearable and lived to tell the tale. And they’d died screaming.

  Nothing had been the same after the bombing. Noah hadn’t been much good as a soldier after that. Hell, had barely been good as a human being.

  This ranch had saved him, helped him re-center. But that didn’t mean his demons weren’t still around.

  “I may not let the demons control me, but they’re not gone, that’s for sure,” he finally said. “They might never be. How could I possibly be what she needs?”

  “Maybe what you’ve been through makes you more uniquely positioned to help her. Did you ever think about that? Your experience with trauma is first-hand, not something you learned in school like the therapists I’m sure she sees. You know what it means to carry trauma with you. Just like her.”

  “But hell, Trigger, maybe she needs someone less damaged than me. I’ll never be some happy-go-lucky guy. I’m never the charming life of the party. Hell, large gatherings have me running for cover. There are still nights I wake up in a cold sweat.”

  This was why he wanted to talk to Trigger. The other man knew what Noah was talking about without him having to explain the nuances.

  “I hear that. But I have to ask… did Marilyn tell you she wants a happy-go-lucky type?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Does she strike you as the type who wants to go to parties and be around big groups of people?”

  “No, I think two kids and a dog is enough noise for her.”

  “Don’t assume you aren’t what she needs when you might be exactly that. Your Special Forces training instilled patience, consistency, and commitment in you. To a woman who’s been through the hell yours has, that’s worth more than all the charm and witty banter in the world.”

  Trigger had a point.

  Corfu and Thing One came wandering in from the barn and laid down at his feet. Noah reached down and petted both of them. “There’s more than she’s telling me, Trigger. I can feel it. Things she’s been through that she doesn’t talk about. Something big. Bad.”

  Trigger was quiet for a long moment. “You know why you got your particular codename in the Special Forces, right? Storm.”

  “Because I’m a badass, obviously.”

  Trigger chuckled. “I know you think it was because of your name. Noah… flood… storm. But that was only part of it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Hell, you were the least stormy guy we all knew. No temper, no drama. What you were was imperturbable. Solid. Good under pressure. You were the eye of the storm, Noah. The calm. That’s how you got your name. You’re still all those things. And those are the things someone like Marilyn needs more than anything.”

  Noah stared out into the darkening sky. “I think you might be right.”

  “Whatever her secrets are? Whatever it is she’s not telling you? You’ll handle it with the same calm and focus as you handle everything else. Because that’s who you are. Not being active duty hasn’t changed it.”

  “Well, fuck, when you put it that way…”

  Trigger laughed. “Inviting me to your wedding is all the thanks I’ll need.”

  “Speaking of, I hear you’re not having a big one.”

  “No, event planning is what Gillian does for a living, so she just wants something small she can enjoy.”

  Sounded perfect to Noah. “Can’t say I disagree with that logic.”

  “Did you just not freak out at all when I mentioned you marrying this woman? Fuck, man, you have it worse than I thought.”

  Noah did have it worse than anybody thought. Because, yes, when he thought of Marilyn, he thought of the two of them sitting on this swing looking out over their land every evening for the next fifty years.

  And it didn’t freak him out one little bit.

  He didn’t answer Trigger’s question because he wasn’t the problem. Marilyn was the problem.

  “She might never be ready. That’s a fact I have to face. She may never be willing to give someone her trust to that degree again.”

  And Noah wouldn’t be able to blame her.

  Trigger let out a sigh. “If this is the woman for you, then you take it one day at a time. Convince her she’s worth showing up for every single day, even if things never go as far as you hope. Show her that she’s worth the wait.”

  “She is worth the wait. Worth fighting for. Worth fighting beside.”

  “Then that’s what you do. And prove Storm can weather any storm she might ever have.”

  11

  Keeping New Journeys running smoothly was definitely a full-time job for Marilyn. Some days went without incident while some were infinitely more challenging.

  There was never any predicting when a leak would spring up in one of the sinks or a window would get stuck and not close.

  Or when one of the residents would decide to leave New Journeys in favor of going back to their homes and their abusive situations.

  That was always difficult. Wanting so much to help another woman lift herself out of a terrible situation, knowing there were times nothing could be done. An adult had to make her own decisions. Nobody could make them for her, even if it would be in her best interest.

  And sometimes she made the wrong decision. Marilyn knew that first-hand. She’d stayed with Jared much longer than she should’ve.

  And Jared was what had her awake now in the middle of the night staring up at the ceiling.

  It had been a week of difficult nights since she’d gotten word of his attempt to appeal the judge’s bail ruling. She hadn’t heard anything else, which had to be a good thing. They were supposed to alert her right away if he made bail.

  She turned from her back to her side, grabbing a second pillow and wrapping an arm around it in hopes of making herself more comfortable. She wasn’t going to think about Jared anymore, not until she had to. She’d given him too much of her life already.

  She’d think about Noah instead. Run over her training and everything she’d learned in the last four months.

  Don’t get hit. Fight to win, not to defend. There’s no such thing as a dirty fight.

  She could visualize herself doing the combination moves. After literally hundreds of times practicing each one, her body remembered what every single move felt like. Remembered what it felt like to catch Noah on the jaw.

  Remembered what it felt like to press her body up against his while sitting on the kitchen counter. The feel of his lips, his tongue.

  To want.

  There hadn’t been any more kisses since then. She’d been busy here at New Journeys. Two moms with infants, and three single women had joined them, making Marilyn’s job much more hectic. She’d only made it out for training twice, and both times she’d had the kids with her.

  Lots of fun and laughter and talking… but no kissing. Which was probably good.

  Who was she kidding? She would gladly spend all day, every day kissing Noah Dempsey if she could. But that wasn't exactly fair to him, was it? To kiss, never knowing if she’d be ready for anything more.

  Was she ever going to be ready? That was the real question.

  Some days the answer was a resounding yes. All she wanted to do was drive over to the ranch and tell Noah she wanted him. That was all she would have to do—just let him know she was ready and he would take over from there. Would he kiss her until she was squi
rming like she had been on the kitchen counter? Would he take her into the bedroom and make her squirm a lot more?

  She pulled the pillow tighter against her body. She wanted that squirming. She wanted that thrill rushing through her veins. That heat that had been unfreezing more and more of her.

  She wanted to burn.

  But some days it was the opposite. Not that she didn't want Noah, but she was much more realistic. How could they ever truly have a future together? How would he even bear to be around her at all once he knew the truth?

  Because her only option was to tell him the truth and watch that desire fade from his eyes or lie to him. She didn’t want that. She'd been a coward, but she'd never been a liar.

  But even knowing the chances of their relationship blooming into anything else was slim, she'd still contacted the lawyer again this week to see how to get the divorce proceedings sped up. She wanted every possible tie to Jared cut. That needed to happen regardless of how things went with Noah.

  It wasn't like she—

  Her thoughts were cut off by the blaring of the fire alarm. She bolted out of bed, slipping on her sandals, and grabbing a sweater, wrapping it over her T-shirt and pajama bottoms.

  As she made it into the kitchen, both kids stumbled out of the room with their hands over their ears.

  "Mama, I don't like that noise," Eva yelled. "What is it?"

  Marilyn pulled her in for a super quick hug. “It's the smoke alarm. It's probably a malfunction but I need to go check it out. Grab shoes, put Tromsø on the leash, and stay right behind me.”

  They went into the main section of the building. Doors were already opening, women sticking their heads out to try to discover what was going on.

  "Marilyn, what's happening?" Jessica, the newest arrival at the house with her six-month-old daughter, was staring at her wide-eyed. Well, as wide-eyed as she could with the bruises and swelling that still disfigured her face.

  Marilyn squeezed her arm. "I don't know yet. It might just be a false alarm, but grab Christina and put her in the baby carrier just in case."

  She turned back to the kids. "You guys stay here and help Miss Jessica while I see what's going on."

  The kids didn't like it and she didn't blame them, but they stayed and leaned down to wrap their arms around the whining Tromsø.

  Marilyn quickly moved down the hall. If there really was a fire, she needed to call the fire department right away. She reassured the other women as she rushed but didn't stop to talk to them.

  She burst into the communal kitchen almost positive that was where the flames would be coming from, but there was nothing. No smoke, no fire, just the dark in the room.

  Okay, that was good; at least there was no fire threatening the occupied part of the house. But this building hadn't been designed as a house, it had been designed as offices before the builder went bankrupt, so there was a huge section of the facility that was still under construction. The fire could definitely be there. She needed to go check it out.

  She rushed back out into the hallway, almost everyone there now. "Everybody grab shoes and jackets and head outside. This could just be a false alarm, but I’m not sure.”

  Marilyn rushed toward the other end of the building but paused as she got to the door. It was secluded here. If there was a fire, she needed to get out there and do something. But if there wasn't a fire, this would be the perfect place to get her alone.

  She wasn't ready.

  All that training with Noah and she was nowhere near ready to face someone if they were waiting for her. When it came down to it, she was still just a coward.

  The door burst open right front of her. She let out a shriek, jumping back.

  The gust of smoke came billowing in along with the sounds of a hacking cough.

  Oh no, the building really was on fire. Bree and Tanner stumbled through the door, Tanner's arm around his fiancée, pulling her along. Bree was coughing almost uncontrollably.

  “Bree! What’s going on? Is this some sort of drill?” Marilyn wasn't even sure why she was asking. It obviously wasn't a drill if Bree was surrounded by smoke, coughing up a lung.

  Tanner shook his head. “No, not a drill. Everybody needs to get out. There’s a fire in the other section of the building.” Pandemonium erupted behind her as everyone heard his announcement.

  Bree coughed again as Tanner turned to Marilyn “Can Bree take the kids outside and you and I will get everyone else out?”

  Marilyn looked down the hallway to where Eva and Sam were standing, struggling not to cry, still holding onto the dog as everyone rushed around them. She didn't want to leave them, but it was her responsibility to make sure everybody got out of the building safely. She could do this.

  Progress isn't always linear. One step forward, two dozen steps back.

  It was time to take a step forward.

  She nodded at Tanner and then walked over and squatted down in front of the kids. "I need you to go with Bree Cheese. She’s coughing and needs help. There's a fire in the other part of the building. It's not dangerous, but I need to help make sure everyone gets out. Can you take Tromsø and go?"

  They nodded.

  "That's my brave boy and girl. I'll see you in a minute.” She walked them over to Bree where Eva grabbed Bree’s hand and they made their way out.

  Tanner turned to her. “I’ll take this side of the hall. You take the other.”

  She and Tanner worked quickly, darting in and out of one set of living quarters after another. She only found one woman who was hesitant to leave her belongings. “Come on, April. We need to get out. Everything here will be safe.”

  She hoped she wasn’t lying—the fire seemed to be contained to the unfinished section—but there was no telling what would happen. Protecting lives was more important than protecting possessions.

  She met back up with Tanner in the hallway. No one else was in the building. They rushed for the outside, Tanner immediately leaving to talk to the officers and fire fighters on the scene.

  The air outside was fresher, telling Marilyn the smoke had started to sneak into the living quarters. She took a deep breath and was about to turn to see if there were any flames.

  The sense of being watched stopped her. She couldn’t seem to move. Could feel eyes on her.

  Jared’s.

  You’ll always belong to me.

  Her heart was pounding in that sickening way, thudding against her ribs. A cold sweat broke out at her temples. Her vision started to gray out.

  Damn it. Not now. This was not the time for a panic attack. Her babies were waiting for her.

  Focus on the immediate threat in front of you.

  Noah’s voice chased out Jared’s in her head. Yes, she needed to keep her attention to the present moment, to what she could see and feel and touch. To what was real.

  Jared wasn’t the immediate threat. He was still in jail. What was real was a fire threatening their home. She could smell the smoke, could feel solid ground under her feet. The night air, refreshing after running through the smoky halls.

  And no wonder she felt eyes on her. Half the town had found their way outside the building, along with multiple emergency vehicles. Nobody was watching her specifically; everyone was watching everything.

  Shaking off the rest of her fear, she darted through the crowd to find the kids, relieved that they were away from the worst of the madness. Bree was standing with them, having situated them off to the side where they wouldn’t be in the way or danger.

  “Mommy!” Both children squealed when they saw her. Tromsø ran around in circles until he peed himself.

  Marilyn sank to her knees and pulled them close. “See? I’m fine. Everything’s going to be just fine.” There were tear tracks on Sam’s cheeks which she kissed away.

  Eva clung to her. “When can we go back to bed? Tromsø’s tired.”

  “He is, huh?”

  No one was going to be allowed back inside tonight for sure. She looked around. Tanner was taking
Bree to get checked out by a paramedic. Jessica was talking to Barb and Francis, two of the other residents, with baby Christina clutched to her chest.

  There were over a dozen people who needed to be settled someplace for the night, beyond just the exhausted, upset children in Marilyn’s arms. She couldn’t go hide in a corner somewhere. It was literally her job to handle this.

  Maybe the kids could lie down in the car and go back to sleep while she worked to get the rest of the residents taken care of. The kids wouldn’t like it—she didn’t like it—but it would have to do.

  There were people everywhere. The police were scooting gawking town members out of the way so the firefighters could get in and do their job on the opposite side of the building. Marilyn needed to get the kids settled and find someone in charge so she could get some answers.

  She hoisted Eva up on her hip. “Okay, I’m going to have you guys lay down in the car with Tromsø while I help everyone get settled.”

  “I wanna stay with you, Mommy,” Eva whispered in her ear as Marilyn grabbed Sam’s hand and began walking toward the car with Eva still in her arms. Sam’s lip was trembling again.

  “Hey, listen. It’s all going to be okay. Mommy just needs to help the other people from the building. Like Miss Jessica and baby Christina. I need to make sure they have somewhere to go. Okay?”

  They both nodded silently. God, she didn’t want to leave them here, especially after what she was feeling a few minutes ago. Every instinct told her not to.

  She glanced at the chaos over the roof of her car. Leaving them here had to be safer than dragging them all around a fire scene, right?

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  The voice behind her didn’t startle her. It was a godsend.

  Noah.

  He looked as disheveled as she did—obviously having thrown on whatever was nearest in his rush to get here. To get to them.

  His shirt was on inside out.

  She wanted to throw herself in his arms but knew this wasn’t the time or place. Instead, she smiled and reached out a hand for him. He grabbed it, squeezing her fingers, and gave her a tiny nod. It was enough.