And having already lost one family, King would value his team above all else. Just as John had. There was something going on here, something she had to figure out. King was wrong, even if he felt he was right. And she would figure out a way to convince him John wasn’t the man he assumed.
How exactly, she had no idea. But for now, she needed food and so did Faith. They dressed quickly in their slightly wrinkled clothes and met King in the hall. Thankfully he’d put on a shirt, although part of her wished he hadn’t. Once more he was clad in black. Black shirt. Black pants. Black boots. The dark colors only accentuated the hard planes of his face. Laura cleared her throat. “Lead the way.” Hoping her voice sounded not breathless like she felt.
As he walked down the long hallway, Laura tried to keep pace with him, tugging Faith behind until the child finally forced her to let go. She gestured for Faith to keep up and the little girl nodded enthusiastically, her stuffed cat clutched to her chest once more. As they turned the corner, a loud thumping bass vibrated down the hall. “What’s that?”
“Diggs. He has no taste in music.”
As she kept walking, the bass thumped louder actually vibrating the floor beneath her feet. She knew when they reached Digg’s room because the closed door actually rattled a little on its hinges. Laura shook her head. “He’s damaging his hearing.” After all her sessions with Faith and her audiologist she’d learned all about the damage loud noises could do to your ears.
“He’s damaging my hearing too,” King said in an absent-minded tone.
His disgruntled response brought a smile to her lips. “I take it you don’t like gangsta rap then?” She could very clearly hear the classic Tupac booming in the hallway.
“No, chère, I prefer real music. Give me blues, Southern rock, and you got me.” A very profane string of rap came from the door. King said a silent curse under his breath. “Hold on, that’s not for a kid to hear.”
Before Laura could argue the point that Faith couldn’t hear, King had the door pushed open. Faith darted past him and Laura came to his side to peer around. Diggs sat in the middle of his floor, a long sheet spread out beneath him and what Laura could only guess was at least ten different types of weapons disassembled and lined up in perfect order. He was currently polishing the pistol barrel. “Hey, you guys are finally up.”
“Cut the music. We’ve got a kid,” King said abruptly.
Diggs didn’t seem the least bit worried about King’s gruff tone. “She seems to like it.”
Faith had managed to make her way all the way across the bedroom without Laura noticing and now stood next to the large black bass speaker in the corner. She put her free hand on top of it, grinning hugely.
King took a step forward. “The kid’s seven—”
Laura put a hand on his forearm. “She can’t hear the words, but look, she can feel the vibrations.”
King followed to where she was pointing and everyone watched as Faith began to sway side to side, eyes closed keeping one hand on the speaker at all times.
They’d tried listening to music after Faith had a cochlear implant activated, but she’d immediately protested. Her doctor had told her that since Faith’s hearing nerve had never been stimulated before now, the foreign sounds probably were simply too overwhelming for her to handle in the beginning. Laura had wanted to share the gift of music but feared maybe that was something Faith could never enjoy.
For the second time that morning, tears pricked her eyes, and she pressed her fingertips to her mouth to stop her trembling lips. Music was something she’d taken for granted her whole life, and it wasn’t until Faith had come along that Laura had realized just what a precious gift it was. There were so many different sounds going on around them all day that Faith had only begun to hear with her implant.
John had had just as much trouble understanding Faith’s needs, and had been frustrated when she hadn’t wanted to put on her implant every day. He wanted her to hear his voice, just as Laura had. But he hadn’t been a part of Faith’s life, so he hadn’t been able to really understand the delicate balance between easing her back into the sound and expecting her to just get it like a grown-up. Not that she could blame him. She’d had a hard time at first too.
Diggs got to his feet and crossed to them, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Finally, someone with some taste.”
Although Diggs was a few inches shorter than King, they both towered over her. At five foot seven she was actually taller than most of her friends. That, added to her very curvy figure she’d unfortunately developed at a very young age, had always made her feel big boned. For the first time in her life she actually felt small, yet not the least bit threatened. More like… protected.
Digging for his phone from his pocket, Diggs pulled up his iPod and switched to another song. “Three 6 Mafia has a good beat.” The lyrics immediately slowed, got deeper, the bass heavier and the words more profane.
Laura flinched at a few of the choicer lines, glancing at King to gauge his reaction. He was studying Faith intently, but what he was thinking she couldn’t even guess.
Two full songs played out, letting Faith enjoy her newfound treasure. And then Laura’s stomach grumbled and Faith had to be hungry too. She crossed the room, tapping Faith on the shoulder to get her attention. “You like the music?”
In response Faith stuck her hands up in the air and wiggled her hips back and forth.
“You still hungry?” Laura asked.
“Yes,” Faith answered.
“Let’s get some breakfast.”
Faith gave a longing glance at the speaker, palming it once more.
Laura’s stomach clenched. “I bet Mr. Diggs will let us come back if you ask nicely.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Laura signed.
“Will you ask?” Faith took her hand.
Laura nodded her head. “Diggs, you mind if we come and listen to the music some other time?”
“Heck yeah,” Diggs drew out, crossing his arms over his chest, “it’s about time I found someone else around here with some taste.”
* * *
John Dawson clawed his way back to consciousness, pain racking his body. Blinking, he fought the fog and tried to remember what had happened. He’d gone out for doughnuts. For Faith. His daughter.
He’d forgotten he even had a daughter, or a sister until… Until he found that letter shoved in the bottom of his military supplied black box. He’d forgotten his family.
He sucked in a harsh breath and a long, hard cough racked his body. Agony twisted around his bones, searing into his right shoulder. He lifted a weak and shaky hand, feeling for the center of pain only to come away covered in blood.
It all came back to him. In Laura’s house. She and Faith backing toward the front door. He’d triggered the countdown without thinking, his response so automated it had happened unconsciously.
He should’ve put a fucking bullet in King’s head and finished the job. Fury ate at his insides. His team hadn’t been satisfied to leave him for dead, they were insisting on wiping out his family, too. He had to get to them. He had to get Faith.
He shoved up onto an elbow, white-hot fire and blackness swept him all at once and he collapsed back onto the hard, damp concrete. A swinging single fluorescent bulb flickered overhead buzzing like a wasp on short circuit. The light pierced his eyes, even as he fought to keep them open and stay awake.
He must’ve dragged himself here after the bomb. Although where here was, he had no idea. The only thing he knew was he had to move. He had no idea what King wanted with his family, but after Dawson had almost killed him, it wouldn’t be anything good.
Dawson tried to rise again, managing to square up his elbow on the ground as he panted for breath. So weak he could barely hold himself up, he forced himself up to his palm by sheer willpower.
Tingles swept up his torso and teased his mind. He closed his eyes, fighting off the haze. Faith. His baby girl. He had to find her. Had to
save her.
The blackness crept over him, tugging him down into the dark.
Faith.
He slid to the ground, the numbness of fading consciousness winning.
Chapter 14
That day, after breakfast, King took them on a tour of the mansion and introduced them to the entire team and their wives. Laura had been tentative at first, but the women quickly put her at ease, taking to the newcomers like old friends.
Seeming relieved, King left them for most of the day, disappearing for hours at a time only to reappear to check on them periodically and make sure they were being taken care of. After about a full week of this routine, Laura started to grow impatient. And that morning, after he escorted them down to breakfast per usual, he’d surprised them by taking them downstairs to the training facility.
“Come on, we’ve got the place to ourselves.” King pushed his way through the double metal doors, and Laura and Faith followed.
He’d showed her the inside once before, but they hadn’t gotten to stay and explore.
King swept out an arm. “You said Faith likes to do gymnastics. Think she could use any of this?”
Laura followed his gesture to the huge blue pad gracing the center of the large room, a couple of large multicolored wedges were scattered on its edge. Lockers lined the back wall, several feet away. Various punching bags and weight benches, dumbbells and treadmills filled up the perimeter of the room. From the ceiling hung two long ropes, and two sets of wooden rings. One set of those rings had been lowered to hang just a few feet above the floor. The perfect height for Faith.
“King,” Laura breathed out, “it’s perfect.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out over the room, avoiding her. “Just some stuff we had in storage.”
Laura bit her lip. She couldn’t come up with any reason for this group of military men to have children’s gymnastics training wedges. She knew almost without a doubt he’d had it sent here just for Faith. The thought warmed her insides and wordlessly, she took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. Half expecting him to drop it, she was surprised when he threaded his fingers through hers and held firm. Heart thudding in her chest, she gestured to Faith to go experiment.
Without a backward glance, Faith took off for the mat, making an abrupt stop at the edge to carefully set Kitty down, then rushing forward she sprung into a series of cartwheels and ground rolls.
Laura edged closer to King, savoring the feel of his rough and calloused palms against hers. He’d barely spoken to her all week, let alone touched her. And she found she’d missed him. “Thank you again for this. She’s been getting a little antsy cooped up inside.”
They both had. Laura could only play so many rounds of Go Fish without wanting to pull her hair out, and while the rest of the women had stopped by to visit at various times, they each had their own lives to attend to as well. She was used to coming and going as she pleased, leading her life, independently, not to mention working every day. The sudden wall of inactivity was a hard adjustment.
King started stroking his thumb absentmindedly over the back of her hand, drawing Laura’s attention back to him. He’d been watching her, studying her. She blushed, refused to avert her face, hungry to hear his voice. “What?”
He tugged closer so that only mere inches separated them. He started to talk, and then hesitated and cleared his throat.
“King?”
“I’m sorry about this week. I know I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
She tried to play it off like she didn’t care. “It’s okay, I understand.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just that, well, your brother…and…Faith,” he said haltingly.
She tensed. Had he figured out Faith was John’s daughter, not hers? “What do you mean?”
He watched Faith this time, and beneath the thick black beard and eye patch she could see the struggle on his face. “I mean, I was scared of hurting you over Dawson. I am worried about your brother. And I don’t want to upset you. So, I thought it might be better if I tried to put some distance between us.”
“You did?” she asked, shocked. As a social worker, she’d counseled tons of teenagers, spent hours trying to pry the truth out of them. She never expected King to share something so open and honest with her without prying.
Faith continued to tumble and roll about in abandon. She ran for the rings headlong, caught them just above her head, and slung back and forth, kicking out her legs in joy.
King squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”
“And Faith?”
He turned to her then, and everything around her faded away.
“I haven’t been around kids since, you know.”
Her heart squeezed for him. He was so open and hurt and hopeful. The last thing she would expect out of this rough soldier. “It has to be so hard.”
She could see his Adam’s apple working in his throat. “Just different. But, I’m getting used to it,” he said, his words halting.
“Faith?” She was glad he was getting used to having a child around. He’d told her it had been five years since he’d lost his daughter and that he’d not talked about his loss. Not that she wanted to play counselor to him, but she wanted to help heal him.
“And you.”
Her breath caught. “Me?”
He drew her closer, so that her chest met his rock-hard abs. “We haven’t talked about that kiss. And I can’t stop thinking about it.” He practically growled out the words.
Her entire being thrummed to life. She’d managed to quell the aching need with her frustration this week, and she’d almost convinced herself that her odd reaction to him had simply been in response to the extreme situation they’d experienced. But just by being so close to him once more, her theory was demolished. She’d had an entire week to cool off and instead, the aching need returned even stronger. She replayed that kiss over and over in her mind, alternating between guilt and hunger, disgust and desire.
“Was it good thoughts?” she asked, savoring the feel of him against her.
His arm wound around her back and he dipped his head so that she felt his hot breath when he spoke, “Not good. Fucking amazing.”
Her nipples hardened painfully, digging into the unyielding planes of his abs. Her pulse hammered out hot and fast, leaving her trembling with need. She licked her lips. “Maybe we should try it again.”
“We will,” he promised.
She expected him to take her right there, but instead he set her away from him, leaving her feeling bereft. What kind of game was he playing? “King?”
“There’s something I need to do first.” King strode across the floor and onto the mat, stopping beside Faith where she was attempting a back handspring. “She’s going to hurt herself if she doesn’t learn how to do it the right way.”
Faith bent her knees, jumped up, and threw her hands backward. King caught her parallel to the floor before she could do a full-out back buster on the mat. Then he set her on her feet and turned her to face him. She could see by his hand gestures he was instructing her on different things to do. Faith watched every move he made with wide eyes.
Still on his knees, the second arm straight out in front of him, he gestured with his hand for Faith to jump over. Faith backed up to his arm, bent her knees, stuck her arms out straight in front of her and then jumped. King dipped his massive arm, practically flipping her himself, so that she landed squarely on her feet.
Faith jumped, throwing a fist up into the air. He glanced back at her, a small smile playing about his lips and in that moment Laura knew she was lost.
Chapter 15
He wanted to run from that training center. He wanted to run and never look back at everything that Faith and Laura and their loss represented. But he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t.
So he’d spent the next hour in a punishing mix, teetering back and forth between sweet bliss and torturous memories. And after supper that night, he’d led Laura and Faith up to the room next
to his, wished them both good night and left, leaving his bedroom door cracked. Once inside, he paced the confines of his bedroom, feeling just how empty and lonely it truly was.
He’d managed to fool himself into believing he was here all alone, but every second with Laura solidified just how wrong he’d been. He wanted her.
Badly.
And he’d thought maybe, just maybe, she wanted him too.
He listened intently, enduring every sound they made in the room next door. Rustling of clothes, the whispering good night to Faith, the sound of bodies sliding into bed. And then, he listened even harder, hoping against hope that she would come to him. That she would understand how much he needed her.
The minutes stretched out until his frustration tested his limits. King stalked to the bathroom for a freezing cold shower. The frigid waters did nothing to cool him, and when he toweled off, the soft cotton fibers just irritated his sensitive skin.
How could he think she would want to be with him intimately so soon after what he’d done? He’d destroyed her home and ripped her from her brother. Some new clothes and a play room for Faith didn’t even come close to scratching the surface of making up for tearing her life apart. He was a fool to think otherwise.
King threw the towel on the floor and stalked out, determined to drag on a pair of sweatpants and go to the training facility to pound it out on the treadmill until his legs fell off.
The minute he stepped foot into his darkened bedroom, the bright light of the bathroom slicing in behind him, he saw her.
She stood just inside his door, her eyes fixated on his groin. Under her gaze his throbbing swelled, his cock reaching up almost to his belly button. “I—I—”
He thought about going for the towel and wrapping it around his waist, but he’d be damned if he was going to try to hide his arousal from her now. Maybe earlier, when he’d been thinking sanely. Not now, not when just seeing her standing there in that small slip of the nightdress had pre-cum dripping from his length. “What are you doing here?”
Mayhem’s King: Operation Mayhem Page 10