Hard Play (Delta Force Brotherhood)

by Sheryl Nantus

  Jessie rolled her head back and closed her eyes. “I totally screwed this up.”

  “Yes and no. I’m not sure what I would have done, given the circumstances.” Dylan’s voice was calming, soothing her jagged nerves. “Do you think the original gunman, the one who shot your father, is still alive?”

  “I suspect Molodavi sent him out of town after the shooting.” She looked out into the night. “I like to think he’s dead, a loose end tied up.”

  “Very possible. But you still went after his boss.”

  She sipped the coffee. “Molodavi gave the order. Buck stops with him.”

  …

  Dylan should have been starving.

  But his stomach was tied up in knots, twisted sore at Jessie’s situation. This had gone sideways in record time.

  In another time and place he’d have already sent her out of town with their connections, had her lie low until things had cooled off. But she wasn’t a woman to sit back and let anyone decide her fate. She’d proven that much with her demands so far.

  It was endearing and as annoying as hell.

  He watched her dig in the bag and pull out one burger, loaded with all the extras. She unwrapped it and offered it to him.

  “I’m okay. You go ahead and eat.”

  Jessie shrugged and started in.

  A few minutes later he glanced over to see how she was doing. It was good to see her eat, see her lick her fingers free of ketchup, her tongue flicking out to clean the last bit from…

  His mind wandered elsewhere, unable to dismiss the fantasy out of hand.

  “Hey.” Jessie’s sharp cry brought him out of his reverie. “Eyes on the road.”

  He blinked as the truck hit the shoulder, the vehicle shaking from the bumps on the side of the road. He nudged the steering wheel a fraction, and it was centered again.

  “Sorry,” he said, his face burning with embarrassment. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

  “How long before we get there?” Jessie peered out into the darkness.

  He scanned the road, taking in the familiar landmarks. The truck didn’t have a GPS on purpose, helping keep the cabin safe and hidden. “Maybe another ten minutes.”

  “You want your food now?” She reached in the bag and pulled out the second burger.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  Jessie handed it to him. “Second-best meal I’ve ever had.”

  “Second-best?”

  “Your chicken soup comes first.” She smiled and he felt his heart soar.

  …

  The burger had managed to kill off Jessie’s hunger, the fries finally putting the growling in her stomach to rest. She felt stronger, more settled, even though she was heading toward an uncertain future with a man she hardly knew but desperately wanted to know better.

  She shot Dylan a sideway glance as he pulled off the highway onto a smaller road and then a narrower one after that, the truck’s headlights showing the wilderness they were driving into. The faint light caught the flush on his skin and she held back a smile, suspecting she was the reason for the truck’s wandering.

  She’d never been to Mount Charleston. It was as different from Las Vegas as night was from day, providing a welcome distraction for those tired of the hot daily grind in the city.

  The truck rolled to a stop, far inside the forest.

  “We’re here.” Dylan opened his door and got out.

  Jessie followed, her feet finding rough gravel beneath them. She looked up and saw a sky filled with stars. The sun was breaking on the horizon, catching the world in a perfect segue between night and day.

  She gasped, unable to contain her shock and wonder.

  Dylan smiled as he came up beside her. “You don’t see the stars while in town. Too much going on. Here you get to see it all.” He gave her arm a light squeeze. “Let’s get inside.” He shouldered the two duffel bags, one from the trailer and one that had been left with the truck. “It’s a bit of a walk in.”

  She followed, almost instantly lost in the trees. Dylan didn’t react when she took hold of his belt, using it to help her stay on the rough path.

  It was like she was in a nightmare. A weird, warped fairytale where things shifted and changed every minute. First she was in a cage, then in a trailer, then running for her life, and now headed into the forest with the Huntsman, hiding from the Big Bad Wolf.

  Jessie allowed herself a smirk as her fingers gripped the soft leather, the darkness closing in around them.

  Or maybe Dylan was the Big Bad Wolf in this rewrite.

  Eat you all up, indeed.

  He came up short and she almost ran into him, stopping as she spotted the cabin.

  It was the classic image of a log cabin, barely larger than the trailer they’d just left.

  Dylan unlocked the door and pushed it open, motioning her to stay where she was. He pulled the pistol free from the small of his back and gingerly entered the darkness.

  He wasn’t taking it for granted the cabin was empty.

  Jessie looked around, holding his breath.

  A minute later the lights came on and Dylan stood in the doorway. He smiled and urged her forward with a nudge of his head.

  The inside of the cabin was pretty well what she’d expected from the exterior—a single large room with a small kitchen, a double bed in one corner, and a bathroom separated by a sliding door. There was no television set, no sign there was anything more than the barest of essentials.

  “Homey.” It was the first word that crept to mind.

  The first one she’d say out loud, that is.

  “I know it’s a little rough.” Dylan went to the couch and opened up the duffel bag lying there, identical to the one he’d brought in from the truck. “But it’s better this way. Safer.”

  He flipped open a burner cell phone and tapped in a text. After it was sent he put the phone on the small wooden coffee table and began unpacking the bag.

  “You told someone we made it here.” She walked around the cabin, noting the two small windows.

  There were also small slits covered with metal slats at different levels along the wall. She poked at one, seeing it slide apart to allow someone to look out, and also fire out if necessary.

  The cabin wasn’t just a romantic getaway for the members of the Brotherhood.

  It was a defensive position where they could fall back, make their stand.

  “So now what?”

  Dylan sat on the couch. “We’ve got food and a change of clothing and relative safety. We rest, clear our minds, and start planning. You’re still not totally recovered, and don’t try to tell me you are.”

  “Fair enough.” Jessie moved to the kitchen area and opened a cupboard. It was filled with cans of soup and instant noodles.

  He gestured at the bed. “If you want to get more rest, go ahead. Try and get back on a regular sleeping schedule. We’ve got time on our hands right now.”

  “And you’ll…” She gestured at the empty walls with her hand.

  Dylan unclipped the holster from his belt. He placed it on the coffee table and pulled the pistol free, well within reach.

  He smiled and picked up a well-worn paperback from the table. “I’ll catch up on my reading. No better time than the present.”

  She paced back and forth, unsure what to do with herself. The exhaustion that had her almost diving into the sidewalk had disappeared during the drive up, now replaced with a nervous tension she couldn’t shake.

  It wasn’t just the rustic setting. While she never saw herself as a technology junkie, it was odd to be so completely unplugged. She couldn’t help circling the interior of the cabin, fascinated by the Spartan furnishings.

  She kept glancing at Dylan, seeing his eyes following her around the room. Jessie felt the slow burn in his gaze, the tension rising with every minute.

  He’d already seen her naked.

  Now that they had a chance to catch their breath, the question was which one of them would make the first mo
ve.

  “How about I build us a fire?” Dylan closed the book and tossed it on the table.

  “Won’t it let people know we’re here?”

  Dylan smiled. “There are cabins all over this part of the mountain. Plenty of them have fires going, day and night.”

  “Okay. If you think it’s safe.” She sat on the cool stones of the fireplace hearth and rubbed her knees. “How did you find me? I figured as soon as they took me out of the casino I was done for.”

  He knelt by the empty fireplace and stacked the kindling, snapping the twigs from the nearby pile in half.

  “We tagged Edward Molodavi’s phone and followed him. When he dropped off the food for the guards it was a clear sign something was going on. Most people don’t feed empty warehouses, and most warehouses don’t have anything important enough to rate four guards.” He smiled and raised his hand. “Excuse me. Five.”

  Jessie smiled, accepting the praise.

  He lit the papers with a match and carefully nurtured the flame into a small fire. “After that, I used one of Trey’s instruments to listen through the wall.” He paused. “I heard him hit you.”

  The anger in his voice took her aback.

  “He got lucky.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly as the memory bit back, hard and fast. “He’d tried it before. Usually I could get away from him. The cage wasn’t that big, but I’m pretty fast. This time I wasn’t.” She touched her cheek, the phantom pain returning. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

  “Did he…” Dylan stopped.

  Jessie frowned, waiting for the rest of the question.

  The fire rose and spread out across the piled wood, leaping from log to log as it gained life.

  Dylan turned and faced her. “Did he hurt you?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, the emotion in his words overwhelming.

  He wasn’t talking about a slap across the face.

  “No.” She coughed into her hand to ease the pressure in her chest. “He talked about it. Threatened to give me over to his men if I didn’t tell him the truth. But he didn’t do anything.” She shrugged and tried to break the tension. “Guess I wasn’t good enough for him.”

  Dylan’s scathing look burned the humor from her lips.

  “You’re better than he’ll ever deserve.” He looked into the fire.

  His tone left no room for discussion.

  He stood up and brushed his hands against his thighs, clearing away any splinters. “Don’t suppose you have any idea how we can get back to the office without bringing the entire Molodavi family down on us?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes went wide. “You’re serious.”

  Jessie smiled, enjoying his reaction. “You think I was sitting in that cage for a week worrying about missing my favorite soap opera? I went through every possible scenario I could conceive of to get back in there and get the flash drive.”

  “Even though you were trapped in a cage facing imminent death.”

  “Sure.” She spread her hands. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Dylan paused. “Well, yeah.” He smiled and returned to the couch. “Okay. Run the plan by me, and I’ll see if it’s doable.”

  She sat beside him and stretched out her hands, enjoying the warmth on her palms. She felt his body heat beside her, calling to her. He smelled of smoke and wood, the earthy smells somehow emboldening her to go on, though it took a concentrated effort to stay focused.

  “When the cleaning woman came into Edward Molodavi’s office and saw me, I might have been able to bluff my way out if I’d been wearing the same uniform as she was. I could have claimed I was a new employee who got lost. If we could get hold of some cleaning staff uniforms, we could at least not stand out like sore thumbs.”

  “Noted.” Dylan reached to one side and pulled out a notepad and pen from a drawer. He jotted down some notes. “Continue.”

  “We’ll need some hair dye.” She touched her dry pinkish locks. “Change this to something a bit more durable, clean it up. It won’t cut the chances of me being recognized to nil, but it’ll pull it down. Add in a change of clothing and it drops further.”

  He eyed her. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”

  Jessie chuckled, despite the seriousness of their situation. “Typical man.” She ticked off the points on her fingers. “Hardware. Nothing too big, but we need firepower. All of Molodavi’s men are armed—we’ll need to be prepared to return fire.”

  Dylan continued scribbling notes.

  A headache started behind her left eye, the dull throbbing causing her to stumble over her words, half-formed thoughts vanishing as she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

  Her muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through her legs as she stretched out on the sofa.

  The food and coffee had helped, but she wasn’t at a hundred percent yet.

  But she wanted to finish this discussion with Dylan. He listened and seemed to appreciate her observations. She felt safe with him, physically and emotionally.

  The two of them were in sync, and Jessie wasn’t sure what she felt about that shift in her world. She scrubbed her eyes with bunched-up hands, feeling a wave of lethargy wash over her.

  Dylan put the notepad down, recognizing her exhaustion. “We can talk about this later.” He reached out and stroked her arm. “Why don’t you duck your head in the sink, get that gunk out of your hair? The fire will still be here when you come out.”

  Jessie felt the goose bumps rise on her skin at his touch, sending her mind spinning.

  “Yeah.” She stood up, her arms and legs feeling like heavy weights. “Good idea.”

  “I’ll start some coffee.” Dylan pointed her toward the bathroom. “We’ve got clean clothing in the bag. I’ll dig out something while you’re getting cleaned up.”

  …

  For a terrifying moment she thought she’d drown in bubbles.

  There’s irony for you, Jessie told herself as she scrubbed her faux Mohawk out. Survive Molodavi’s cage and end up dead thanks to the damned liquid soap.

  It was a close call as the foam rose up to engulf her face like some crazed monster movie creature. Finally, it gave up and spun down the drain, letting her try to do some repairs to her damaged hair.

  Jessie sighed, feeling the short, chopped ends.

  It’d grow back, but she’d never be the same on a variety of fronts. Her vendetta against Molodavi had snowballed out of control, and now a man was dead.

  She slapped down the tiny voice in the back of her mind reminding her of the times Al had mocked her like the rest of the guards, teased her with food and threatened her with abuse.

  He may have been no saint, but he deserved better than to be shot down by Molodavi as an example to his men. She was also putting these strangers who insisted on helping her in danger. Dylan could have been killed if they hadn’t gotten out of the trailer in time.

  Jessie sighed as she dried her hair.

  She had to get back into that office and retrieve the flash drive. Molodavi was going to pay for what he’d done, and she’d be right there to see him in cuffs and behind bars.

  All she had to do is earn it.

  Her mind went back to Dylan.

  There was something between them, of that she was certain.

  But this wasn’t the right time or place to consider acting on what she was feeling. It was probably some savior complex, a twist on the Stockholm Syndrome.

  He had been there for her. And damn he was hot. It was hard to remember the last time she’d been interested in a guy. Too damn long. She’d been through hell, and all she could think about was touching him, running her hands all over those muscles, memorizing each and every scar with her fingers and then with her tongue…

  Jessie sighed and hung up the towel, more confused than ever.

  Let fate figure it out. She’s kept you alive so far.

  Jessie grinned and ran her hands through her short hair, tentatively
approving of her new look.

  “Coffee’s ready if you want it,” Dylan called out as she entered the living room. “We also have food if you’re still hungry.”

  She patted her stomach as she flopped onto the couch. “I’m good for now, thank you.” She eyed him as he made himself a mug and returned to sit in the chair opposite her. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Right now? Nothing.” He sipped his mug, watching her. “We let the news cycle on to other crimes, let the dust settle. There’s an outside chance Molodavi might drop it and find something else to focus on. He might decide whatever you took wasn’t enough to bring him down, and he’ll leave well enough alone.”

  “But we won’t,” she said.

  Dylan didn’t react. He put his mug down. “We’ll decide what to do after reassessing the situation. Our first priority is keeping you safe and sound.”

  “Of course.”

  “And taking down Molodavi as well.” Dylan tilted his head. “He’s putting the blame on you—and by proxy, on us—for Brenner’s murder. I don’t like that.”

  “Neither do I.” She waited for the final question.

  “So where’s the flash drive?” he asked casually.

  She smiled. “I’ll get it when we’re in the office. Remember, I’m going with you.”

  “I never promised that.” Dylan stood up. “You’re exhausted and worn down from a week of imprisonment. Even once you’re back at full strength in a few days, you’ll be a liability.”

  “What?” Jessie jumped to her feet. “You said you’d take me.”

  She couldn’t believe this. It was as if she were back in the briefing room, arguing for a chance to take lead and instead being slotted to play the lovely distraction again

  “No. I asked you for a plan, for suggestions. You gave me some excellent ideas. But you’re not going along. You can tell me where the drive is hidden, and I’ll retrieve it. It’d be best for everyone if you did.”

  “What?” She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “But you said back in the trailer—”

  “I said we’d talk about it. I never agreed.” He stood up. “No offense, but you don’t have the training.” He tapped his chest. “I’m not trying to insult you, but you haven’t worked with me, with my men. We’ve trained together, fought together…”