Survive By The Team (Team Fear Book 3)

by Cindy Skaggs

  Flesh slurped and blood oozed as the knife slipped free. The next move had Stills slicing the man’s jugular. Eyes wide, he dropped and Stills went with him, taking the knife to the floor. Gurgles spilled from the body, but he was dead before Stills stumbled to his feet.

  Pooling blood around the corpse sent him sliding across the floor. Mandi levered up on her elbows and took in the scene before Stills could block her view. She stared at the dead man and back to him. “That hurt more than the accident.” Her voice croaked, sounding worse than it had from the airbags.

  “I’m sure.” He dropped to the floor beside her. Wind blew in from the adjacent bedroom, cooling the blood that coated his body. He wasn’t sure if it was his or the dead man’s. Didn’t much care. “I thought I told you to stay in the hideout.”

  “If they killed you, it wouldn’t have taken them long to find me.” A deep breath shook her shoulders. “It was a calculated risk. I took the weapon off the other guy to even your odds.”

  He wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  She sniffed. “God willing, it won’t be necessary.”

  Before he could respond, she started sobbing. He pulled her close. Her tears smeared with blood on his chest, but he didn’t let go.

  That’s the way the team found them. Rose entered from the upstairs. Nobody really knew how Rose managed to get into and out of places, but somehow, he was always where you needed him most. Ryder and Fowler burst through the front door in a coordinated move. They let in half a ton of snow from the drift by the door and their incursion didn’t slow despite the bloody mess in the living room. Ryder and Fowler viewed the scene in silence before disappearing in to the back bedroom.

  “Second floor, clear,” Rose said. He hopped the loft railing and landed two feet from the first body.

  “First floor, clear,” Fowler said as he had Ryder returned. They looked at the bloody scene in the cabin. There was one body at the bottom of the ladder. Another less than five feet from Stills. Mandi was in his arms, but their loud interruption shut down the tears. She shrank against Stills’ side as if afraid of the new threat. The move got more blood all over her white towel. “They’re with me,” he whispered.

  The declaration released the waterworks and the sobs renewed. She hid her face in the crook of his arm and let loose. The guys cleared the scene and stoked the fire while he tried to calm Mandi. One of the guys—Rose probably—wrapped Mandi in the afghan but left Stills to fucking freeze.

  “Goddamnit,” Ryder stomped around the bloody scene cursing. “Just once I’d like one of these fuckers to live long enough to interrogate.”

  “That one’s alive.” Mandi leaned away enough to point to the body at the bottom of the ladder. The shakes made it impossible for her to keep her arm steady. Blood was swiftly drying to a muddy brown on her hand and face.

  “Honey, he’s—”

  “Breathing,” Mandi insisted. “I know what death looks like. He was breathing when I took the knife off him.”

  Damn, she’d thought fast. She didn’t even think twice about entering a fight to the death. He was in awe. And angry as fuck that she’d risked her life and disobeyed an order. His system was still on overload and the anger was only one small trigger away. He got to his feet and checked Echo’s pulse. “She’s right.”

  “You’re naked,” Fowler said.

  “No shit.”

  Mandi looked up at him and started laughing. The laughter turned to tears streaming down her face, deep guffaws, and her entire body shivering.

  “She’s in shock,” Rose said. “Where’s a good place—”

  “Shower through the parents’ bedroom.” Stills scooped Mandi in his arms, which made her laugh even more. “Rose, turn on the warm water.”

  Rose adjusted the water temp and when he stepped back with a nod, Stills stepped into the stall shower with her, afghan and all. “Can you get that window boarded up? Maybe see if there’s an electric blanket in one of the closets?”

  “I’m still pissed at you.”

  “Be pissed.” He snapped the shower curtain closed. “But she’s Gault’s sister,” he yelled into the steam.

  The bathroom door slammed closed behind Rose. Mandi’s tears turned to hiccups. He set her down and wiped off the smeared blood she’d somehow gotten on her face. She gripped the edges of the afghan and let him minister to her. That more than anything spoke about where she was mentally. She saw him kill a man in the heat of battle. It would have been two if he’d known Echo was still alive. In the moment, anger had fired him up, demanding a blood sacrifice. Even watching the life drain from the man’s eyes hadn’t appeased the rage.

  After the long months of holding it in, he’d become the thing he knew lived in each of them. He’d taken the knife to the floor, nearly severing a man’s head.

  Blood swirled down the drain washing his body clean, but no amount of water could purify his soul. He was volatile and being pursued by psychopaths. Both of those were reason enough to stay the hell away from Mandi. An hour ago, he’d been buried inside her so deep he hadn’t wanted to surface. Now, her fear and a terrible silence pushed between them. Worst part of it was, he knew the best thing for her was to keep that barrier up there. To keep the distance.

  He banged his head against the tiles.

  “Stop. Your head’s bleeding.”

  He’d forgotten. Couldn’t feel it, although that time would come.

  Mandi brushed his hair away from the wound. “Looks like it needs stitches, but I don’t suppose we can go to a hospital now.”

  “Even if we get through the snow, the hospital is a no-go. It’s fine.”

  “Says the man oozing blood.” Her hands shook as she tried holding a washcloth to the wound.

  “Oozing?” He grabbed the cloth and tossed it. “Head wounds are notoriously bloody, but that doesn’t make it dangerous.”

  “Copious. Ellie cracked her head open on a coffee table once. Danny said head wounds ooze copious amounts of blood.” Trembling, she reached out to steady herself and ended up tucked tight against his chest. “God, there’s blood all over the cabin. Looks like a serial killer used the living room to hack a victim into pieces.”

  Stills went rigid at her words. Warm water washed over both of them, but inside he was cold. Ice fucking cold. He’d done that. Ripped a man apart, separate the head from the body, in front of her.

  Mandi didn’t seem to notice the sudden change in his demeanor. She snuggled close, sharing the spray and giving off sweet heat. The kiss she pressed to his neck was the stuff of fantasies, but he didn’t live in a dream world. He lived in hell. “Are you okay?”

  Her red-rimmed eyes stared up at him. For twenty-four hours he’d lost himself in the glow of her beautiful soul. In the taste of sweet tea and the hope of forever. He’d die remembering that day. One day when he’d almost had the American dream. He meant the kiss to be light, but the moment their lips collided, his plans went to hell. She sparked something in him and he went deep, not letting up until they were breathless and she was leaning on him for support.

  “This morning. Upstairs.” He tried to put his thoughts into words but failed. “I loved what we shared. You’re the real deal, Mandi Gault. Don’t ever forget that. Don’t let anyone take it from you.”

  The afghan dropped and for a brief moment they were skin-to-skin, slick from water and soap with her every curve fitting him like the missing piece to his lost soul. They stood, wrapped around each other, under the hot spray of the shower until she stopped shaking. Hell, until his hands stopped trembling with the knowledge of what they would have done to Mandi if he hadn’t finished them.

  He pictured the family from the village that day in Kandahar. A woman and child gunned down while running for their lives. Echo had no fucking mercy. He gripped Mandi in a tight embrace and he never wanted to let go.

  “Oh my God. I’m a terrible aunt. I forgot to ask about Ellie,” she said. “Where do you think she is? She can’t se
e the cabin like this.”

  The spell was broken. He released her, wiped soggy hair from her eyes, and stepped back. “If you’re okay on your own, I’ll go find out.”

  She nodded.

  He stepped from the shower and toweled off the water and the memories of those few short hours with Mandi. When he walked out the door with the towel around his waist, he had his head on straight. Ryder and Fowler were hammering a piece of plywood over the wrecked window. Rose carried in a comforter to add to a growing pile on the bed. “No heated blankets, but I’ve got a makeshift water bottle on the stove. It should warm up the sheets before you bring her out.”

  Ryder slammed his hands on his hips as he glared at Stills. “Now explain how Echo caught you with your dick hanging out.”

  He glanced back at the bathroom door. He didn’t want to have the conversation in the bedroom, so close to her, but three angry sets of eyes glared at him. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “It looks like you kicked ass.” Fowler leaned forward to give him a fist bump. “But if you slept with Gault’s sister, I will sic Janet on your sorry ass.”

  Rose crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not waiting for Janet.”

  “Jesus, it’s not like that.” It couldn’t be. For her sake.

  “How is it then?” Rose sneered. Tight-ass always made it personal when it came to women. He had a houseful of sisters and took their protection seriously.

  “We detoured here when they closed the highway, and then I called you guys for backup. You were supposed to be getting Gault’s kid.”

  “We got her,” Ryder said. “Craft mainlined her back to The Manor. They’re already there. Eating s’mores and drinking hot cocoa.”

  Relief took a weight off his shoulders at how easily the conversation shifted in a new direction. The kid and The Manor. “Since when did we become Full House? We’ve got four women at headquarters. That’s no way to run an operation.”

  “Five women and one kid now,” Rose corrected, his deep voice downright judgmental.

  Fowler tossed the hammer to a nearby chair. “Any man, woman, or child on Echo’s radar is welcome at The Manor. You don’t like it, you don’t have to come back.”

  “That how it is, Fowler?”

  “Damn straight. You broke my security system. Twice. And then come crying for help both damn times. Want to tell us how Echo caught you with your pants down?”

  And that fast they were back to the topic Stills wanted to avoid. “I slept on the couch, dickhead, and she slept down here.” Partially true, but Stills didn’t have any problem lying to protect her. They’d barely known each other for twenty-four hours, but she wasn’t easy, and what they had wasn’t some cheap one-night stand. And he sure as shit didn’t plan to hash that out with his teammates. “After starting the coffee, Mandi got into the shower.” After getting the right kind of dirty. The image of her throwing her head back with a groan when he entered her was branded into his brain. They’d clicked almost instantly with off the charts chemistry. Add in the long drive and longer conversation—the scent of her in a confined space—and he hadn’t wanted to stop with one goodnight kiss.

  What had happened upstairs in that little hidden room shook him, tore up what he thought he knew, and screwed with his definition of right and wrong. They didn’t just have sex. They had a connection, but no one, not even his team, could know. He’d watched Echo tear after Lauren, Ryder’s wife. They’d gone after Debi with sick determination. Sure, Echo was after Mandi, but only to lure the team into their trap. If Echo knew the emotional shit rolling around his gut, they’d kill her to destroy Stills. “I was upstairs changing. Next thing I know, she’s hollering that two men were outside.”

  Rose snorted. “You expect us to believe that you were coincidentally naked?”

  “What? You wanted me to risk the girl while I threw on some clothes to satisfy your puritanical ass? I already told you. Nothing. Happened.”

  Mandi left the water running while she dried off. The steam pushed away the chill that had her teeth chattering. In the adjacent room, voices raised in anger. So many male voices were hard to distinguish between. First she heard a deep baritone that was more vibration than words. She thought she recognized Rose’s deep voice and wondered briefly why he hadn’t stayed with Ellie. Wasn’t he the protector of children? What if they didn’t have Ellie?

  Oh, God, let it be good news.

  While she threw on some old clothes that she kept at the cabin, she moved closer to the door. Stills’ voice came next. After listening to him in the dark of the car, she’d know that voice anywhere. She listened closer, hoping to hear Ellie’s name.

  “Nothing happened. Want me to make it clearer. I did not sleep with Gault’s sister.” He enunciated so clearly that even with the water running, even with the door between them, she heard every word.

  Her throat pinched closed. She’d taken more than her fair share of damage in the last few days, but his denial cut deeper than the accident; even deeper than the dead man who had tried to strangle her.

  Nothing happened.

  Just like Maurice.

  Stills glared at Rose. The denial ate through a layer of his stomach lining. He was going to hell for all he had done and that had been done to him. No doubt he was halfway there, but pretending even for a second that he was the same man who left The Manor to chase a hunch was the biggest lie yet.

  He ignored the ache under his sternum. It was a bruise from the earlier fight. Or a broken rib. Nothing more, just like what happened with Mandi couldn’t be more. But he damn sure wasn’t making way for one of his at-risk teammates to hook up with Mandi. “Gault’s sister is off limits. Way the fuck off limits.”

  “That how it is?” Fowler taunted. “You calling dibs, asswipe?”

  The water sounds shut off from the adjacent room.

  “We’re done here.” Stills flipped Fowler the bird rather than risk saying something she could hear, but his gut hurt as he distanced himself from Mandi.

  Ryder cleared his throat. “Then let’s get to the greater question. Echo had a soft target in the kid. Given their MO, going after the kid would be the next move, but there wasn’t so much as a shadow watching the little girl. Why?”

  Stills had been convinced they would go after Ellie, just like they had with Mad Dog’s family. Echo had no humanity left. They used people. Trapped them, dangled them like bait, and then killed them. Why not this time?

  “Fuck me. I’m an idiot.”

  “Finally, something we agree on,” Rose said.

  “Because I was the target.” Stills ignored his teammate while he retrieved his hoodie from the end of the bed. “The fight with Echo in Tucson. I thought we were too lucky. And we’ve been dealt a shit hand, so I should have known better.” He wiped down the jacket until he found the tracker. “Damnit all to hell. They tagged me like a fucking animal. And here I thought Captain Johnson was helping a brother out.” He gripped the tracker to smash it, but Fowler put out a beefy hand to stop him.

  “Let me.” He took the tracker. “Hey, Rose, want to go for a walk in the woods?”

  “It’s like arctic survival out there. I’ll pass.”

  “Come on. We’re just going to play a little hide and seek.” He whistled as he walked back to the main room. “Bring the body with you.”

  “Hell.” Rose zipped his jacket to his chin. “I hate snow.”

  “I’ll secure the prisoner.” Ryder waited until the two stooges left the building bickering at each other before cutting a hard glare at Stills. “Want to explain why your hoodie is in her bedroom?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mandi straightened her spine, grabbed the doorknob, and stepped into the bedroom. She’d eaten enough humble pie to know how to handle it. Chin up, eyes forward, and pretend you didn’t hear what they said behind your back. “Stills lent the hoodie to me earlier. The hospital gave me scrubs after the accident, but I didn’t have a coat. When the weather turned cold...” She shr
ugged and pain radiated through her whole body. “Is that a problem?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  The man walking toward her was the biggest badass she’d ever seen. They’d entered like an ill wind after the conflict with Echo and she hadn’t gotten a clear look at anyone, but the others were gone. It was just this guy and Dean. The others had been intimidating. The one they called Rose had been as big as a house and nearly as tall, but this guy in black leather and biker boots was absolutely terrifying. He wore a scowl like most men wore sunglasses, and even the sun wouldn’t dare to disregard the warning.

  He approached slowly. “I’m Sergeant Ryder. I served with your brother. He was like a brother to me and I’m sorry we weren’t there to pay final respects.”

  Her throat tightened at the kindness of his words that somehow didn’t match his lethal approach. She nodded her comprehension because her voice deserted her.

  “It’s unfortunate we had to meet under these circumstances. If we’d known Echo had targeted you, we would have extricated you sooner.”

  Panic threatened, squeezing her lungs and bruising her ribs with all she held inside. The pain of Stills’ rejection, the loss of her brother, the fear for Ellie, and now this guy. It wasn’t Ryder’s size or even the intimidation factor, which was high, but seeing him triggered a memory of her escape from the hospital.

  He slouched to meet her eye-to-eye. “Are you okay?”

  She shrank back toward the bathroom. “I’ve seen you before. In the hospital lounge.” She glanced quickly at Dean, but couldn’t read his expression. “On the TV.” There was nowhere to run. She exhaled to purge the emotions clogging her throat. “You’re wanted by the police. I saw the crawler with your picture.”

  “So was your brother. Wanted by the police, that is. My situation involved protecting my wife. The company uses this shit to their advantage. Now they’ve got Echo and the police looking for me. It’s one of the ways they apply pressure.”