Enemy Zone: Enemies-to-Lovers Standalone Healing-Love Military Romance (Trident Rescue)

by Alex Lidell

  Ignoring the raspberry beer Jaz is still holding out to me, I rush forward and wrap my arms around her, relief filling my blood. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like her, but I’m more grateful than I’ve got words to explain. “I’m so sorry,” I mutter into her shoulder, my body trembling for a few heartbeats as I will myself not to cry. “I was afraid that…”

  “That I’d take the boys’ side? Like hell.” Jaz gives me a reassuring squeeze before gently pushing me away, her bright face full of concern. “What happened? Did Cullen hurt you?”

  I flinch. “He…he was well on his way to a pay-to-play arrangement with me, and I was too stupid to see it until I was paying some personal bills for him and discovered that I’m not the only woman he’s got this setup going with. Remember when you said he came back here for Addie? Well, you were right.” In quick strokes, I fill Jaz in on what I’d found on the computer and how poorly my attempt to talk to him about it went. “I think that may be one reason he hates me working for Frank Peterson. I mean, if he’s shagging both Peterson’s sister-in-law and his employee, that’s not a good look.”

  Jaz taps her finger against her beer. “I wouldn’t have figured Cullen for the sugar daddy type, to be honest. But he has issues. And from what I’ve, errr, accidentally overheard, he’s been off the past couple of weeks. Has he called you?”

  I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know. I blocked his number. The guys’ too.” I swallow, looking out the window. “I’ve been in bad relationships before. It’s for the best this way. Trust me. I’m moving on. As soon as I find a place, I’m moving out of this golden cage. So, well, boxes.”

  Jaz sets down her beer with a resounding click. “Then I will help you pack. And move. And unpack somewhere close by. But with all the time I’ll now be saving you, you have to come cheer for me at WorldROCK tomorrow. Deal?”

  Well, I can’t in good conscience say no to that now, can I?

  31

  Sky

  Pulling into the parking lot staging area for WorldROCK, I can’t help being impressed by the sheer number of people who are already here despite the early hour. There are sponsor tents with everything from trail mix packets and electrolyte mixes to sales booths with high-tech gear. A large tent on my left sports an overhead registration sign, and a smaller one on the right is trying to both hand out press credentials and answer the slew of general information queries from competitors, spectators, and family members. Swerving around the meandering crowds, I wave hello to Uncovered’s own James Dyer taking a few establishing shots of the bare ridge, and check the listings for Jaz’s route.

  The haggard girl at information hands me a map of the trails and tells me Jaz has already hiked out to her staging point. Half a mile later, I find Jaz under the wide span of some golden aspen branches that sprawl a few paces away from the rock wall. Jaz is bent over her pack, every inch of her and her gear emblazoned with the Arc’teryx bird skeleton insignia. Leaning against the aspen’s white trunk, I tilt my face up to the sky and breathe in the fresh Colorado air. It’s beautiful here, all azure heavens above and forestry and craggy mountains spreading before us. Breathtaking. Invigorating.

  Peering over at Jaz, I find the same placid look on her face as I’m sure I’m wearing on mine and feel like I’ve known her forever.

  “Next year, you’re competing,” Jaz informs me.

  I’m about to agree when a familiar voice cuts in from behind me, making my mouth dry out on the spot as I turn to see Liam not ten feet away. Dressed in a tight Rescue shirt, tactical pants, and enough rescue gear to stop a train, Liam’s beautiful face is hard as stone. “Number 479. Jazmine Keasley,” he reads off his clipboard. “Gear safety check.”

  “Liam. What a lack of pleasure to see you.” Striding up to the Trident god, Jaz lays her equipment out for the official safety inspection. Liam goes over each piece of gear. Yes, of course the Tridents would be here. All four of them.

  Crap.

  I step backward until my back hits the stone, my chest tightening. We aren’t in middle school where I could pretend Liam is invisible, but I have nothing I want to say to the man either. Nothing I want to hear him say to me. Pressing my hand into the rock, I wonder idly if perhaps the mountain might turn me invisible if I beg it hard enough.

  “All checks out. Good luck on your course.” Taking a bright red sticker, Liam initials it before attaching it to Jaz’s bib. Then, just when I think I’m safe, his hazel eyes lift toward me. Hard. Unreadable. Demanding. “Skylar.”

  “Liam.” I refuse to flinch away from his gaze, but I have nothing to contribute to the conversation either. Fortunately, I’ve got Jaz the Incredible by my side.

  Stepping right between Liam and me, the petite woman manages to somehow glare down her nose at the former SEAL. “Skylar is not gear, asshole. I realize the difference between women and objects might be too difficult for your brain to handle, but just trust me on this one.”

  Liam gives Jaz the coldest glare I’ve seen from him yet. “When I need your opinion on something, Jazmine, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Is this jerk bothering you?” A second familiar voice whips me around, this time to find Jaden striding up in all his broad-shouldered glory, a media badge swaying on a lanyard over his gray shirt. Without waiting for Jaz’s answer, he scoffs at Liam’s uniform. “Move along, ambulance driver. Can’t you see that lady doesn’t want you here?”

  Liam actually snorts with amusement, though there’s a gleam in his eye that promises a very painful end to any escalation. Which is the last thing we need right now.

  “Everything is fine, Jaden,” I say, stepping away from the stone. “We have everything under control. Liam was just leaving, and you should too.”

  Jaden’s gaze slides to me, his smile broadening in an open boyish grin. “Lar, baby. I didn’t expect to see you here.” He glances at the mountain. “But I’m glad you are. Though you should be climbing, not watching.”

  My stomach churns uncomfortably. Jaden is lying about being surprised—I can read it in his face. He knew I was here today. Just as he’d known where I live. Whatever else, the asshole has always been good at getting information and even better at crafting it into an engaging story. It was one of the things that attracted me to him in school. Now, he just seems like a master manipulator.

  “I’m not your baby,” I tell Jaden firmly. ”And no one is bothering us except you. Please leave.”

  Jaz, seeing my reaction, loyally offers Jaden a death glare.

  Jaden smiles wider. It’s the type of grin that reminds me of a shark, all sharp teeth and dead eyes. “I’m on assignment, babe. You know that. And I’m not about to leave without an interview with last year’s female champion.” The asshole offers Jaz a half bow. “Jaden Harris, the Manhattan Post. Ms. Keasley, what can you tell me about your competition this year? Do you expect another easy win as you had in Memphis at the High Point climb?”

  He did his homework.

  Jaz looks Jaden up and down as if singularly unimpressed with what she sees, and I have to stifle a laugh. “What I expect, Mr. Harris, is that you leave as my friend asked you to.”

  “Your friend and I happen to be engaged,” Jaden says. “Please accept my apologies for any confusion. It’s been a stressful few months. Pre-wedding jitters and all.”

  My mouth drops open. In the corner of my vision, I see Liam stride away, my mind trying like hell to absorb Jaden’s claim. Engaged? What reality did that come from? Probably from the same reality that told him it was okay to lie passed-out drunk while his marine buddies assaulted me, then take their side of the story.

  Jaz narrows her brows. “Seems to me Sky doesn’t agree with that assessment.”

  “Of course I don’t!” I wheel on Jaden. “What the hell are you talking about? We aren’t engaged. We aren’t together. We’re one more word away from a restraining order.”

  “That’s enough.” Stepping toward me, Jaden has the audacity to wrap an arm around my shou
lders, his posture rigid. “Come on, Lar. It’s time for us to leave.”

  My heart pounds. I go to pry his arm off me, the thick muscles unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snarl. My blood rushes into my ears. “Let me go.”

  Jaden’s face goes from hotly furious to cold as ice. “That wasn’t a question, Skylar,” he says quietly, emphasizing my name in a way that makes my stomach drop. I know that tone of voice. Know the consequences it brings. My body longs to freeze, to do nothing that might provoke him further. As I’ve always done.

  But if training with Cullen and the guys taught me one thing, is that doing nothing guarantees only one thing—being knocked none too gently onto my ass. My hand closes into a fist.

  Apparently of the same mind, Jaz grabs a quickdraw carabiner off her harness. Holding one end of the quickdraw, the petite climber whips the other end across Jaden’s cheek, the metal hitting flesh with a resounding whack.

  Jaden grunts.

  Shoving me away from him, Jaden grabs Jaz’s arm, yanking so hard that she screams.

  “Jaden, stop!” I shout at him, even though I know he won’t. My pulse pounds, Jaz’s cry echoing through me. No. Hell no. This can’t happen. Not again. “Let her go!”

  Jaden raises his free arm, ready to backhand Jaz across the face. He isn’t even paying attention to me. He knows I’m irrelevant. Or was.

  Not letting myself hesitate a moment longer, I push off my toes and jump right on the bastard’s back. “Let her go!” I shout again, trying to snake my arm around the asshole’s neck and choke him the way I saw the guys do in Liam’s training.

  Jaden jerks in surprise. Curses. For a second, I think I’m making progress, but Jaden recovers before I can finish the move.

  Spinning around violently, he flings me off him and into the trunk of the tree behind me. I hit the unforgiving surface with a dull thud, my vision refocusing to the sight of Jaden looming over me.

  “Did you just attack me, bitch?” Reaching down with his great maw of a hand, Jaden grabs me by the neck and forces me upright.

  I gag, unable to draw breath, my nails scratching fruitlessly at his muscled forearm. My heart races, my blood rushing so swiftly that I feel dizzy, my whole world narrowing to Jaden. Spots flash before my eyes when suddenly, another very large figure materializes right in front of me. I only have a split second to register the danger in those mossy-green eyes before I’m free. Before Cullen Hunt grabs Jaden and slams his face into the thick, wide bottom of the aspen.

  I fall to my knees, gasping for breath.

  Cullen yanks Jaden back for a fuller swing, my ex barely managing to save himself from a broken skull by getting his arms up in time. Blood streaks down Jaden’s face, staining his gray shirt and cracked press credentials that somehow still swing on the red-spattered lanyard. High-pitched pathetic whimpers that I haven’t heard from Jaden before now escape his throat. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?”

  Cullen releases him.

  The moment he does, a familiar triumphant sneer grips Jaden’s face. He climbs to his feet, either too oblivious or too dismissive of the wild, rage-filled look in Cullen’s eyes. It’s the same look that the brute at Hannigan’s Pub wore just before going berserk.

  Jaden scrubs the back of his hand across his face. “You want the whore? Fuck, she isn’t worth—”

  Cullen moves in faster than I can follow. Grabbing the back of Jaden’s head, Cullen slams it against his upraised knee, a cracking sound confirming a broken nose. Jaden sways, staying upright only by virtue of Cullen still gripping him.

  With the next breath, Cullen lands a fist into Jaden’s middle. His chest, his sides, his legs. Thump. Thump. Thump. I open my mouth to yell, but the sheer brutality of the scene paralyzes my voice.

  “That’s enough, Hunt,” Liam shouts, moving toward the fight as I finally absorb that all the Tridents are now calling for Cullen to stop. “Stand down.”

  “Commander! Stop.”

  My throat tightens, my hands scraping desperately against the dirt as I pull myself up.

  To my relief, Cullen lets Jaden go, the man barely able to stand on wobbly legs.

  Turning toward me, Jaden spits a glob of blood. “This is your fault, you—”

  Cullen shoots forward again, grabbing Jaden’s shoulders and slamming a knee into his ribs. Once. Twice. When Cullen winds up for a third blow, I think he might kill Jaden outright.

  As if having come to the same conclusion, Liam and Eli lunge in to pull him bodily off Jaden. Wrenching Cullen’s arms behind his back, the Tridents haul him several steps back, Cullen struggling like an enraged bear in his friends’ grip. A few yards away, Kyan rises from where he’d been crouching beside Jaz and—after getting a thumbs-up from his sister—walks over to where Jaden lies curled up in a fetal position.

  “Hunt! Hunt, look at me, arsehole!” Eli’s screaming into Cullen’s face snaps my gaze back to the men’s struggle.

  Liam now has both of Cullen’s arms behind him in an iron grip, Cullen yanking so hard against the hold that I think he might dislocate his own shoulders. His eyes, glassy with pain, stare at something that isn’t Colorado while his chest heaves with quick breaths.

  I gasp, the scene before me suddenly echoing another time and another room. Cullen in his bed, facing an invisible assault as sweat runs down the grooves of his muscled back, his nightmares gripping his soul. Except there, in that room, I didn’t need to rip apart his shoulders to bring him back. Gathering myself, I start toward him.

  “Reynolds, stay away.” Eli snaps at me with a military harshness I’ve never heard from the easy-going Trident before. It’s my father’s tone. Jaden’s. It’s the tone Liam used at the gym when he struck him so hard that Eli fell to his knees. I flinch away, my hand clenching the hem on my jacket, and Eli nods his harsh approval before returning his attention to Cullen.

  I want to run. But the Tridents will hurt Cullen if I do. He’ll hurt himself. As if to punctuate my realization, Cullen jerks against Liam’s hold. No. I can’t let this happen. I hate Cullen. But I… I feel something else for him too.

  My pulse racing, I take a step back toward him, bracing myself for Eli’s yelling—which comes right on schedule.

  “Which part of stay away did you have trouble with?” he shouts at me.

  “The stay away part!” I can’t believe I’m actually shouting back. Standing up to Eli. That despite my sweating palms and thumping heart, I put my hand on his broad shoulder and push. “You’re hurting him.”

  Eli spins, placing himself between Cullen and me. “He’s not himself, Sky. You don’t understand. But let us deal with it before you get hurt.”

  I meet Eli’s slate-gray eyes, the glimpse of vulnerability and fear in them making my chest tighten. I’m not the only one who’s scared for Cullen. Who’s afraid of things getting worse. That quickly, Eli is Eli again to me, with his unruly hair and all too human feelings beneath the godlike body. Putting my palm on his chest, I feel the pounding of his heart as I push him gently. “He’s not going to hurt me, Eli. Trust me.”

  Eli looks over my shoulder, probably to get Liam’s consent, before stepping back.

  Swallowing, I lift my eyes and meet Cullen’s mossy gaze, my hands up in front of me with my palms open. “Cullen,” I call.

  He flinches.

  I don’t. Moving slowly, I ignore Liam’s growl of warning and extend my palm until the flat of my hand cups Cullen’s scruffy cheek. “Can you feel my skin?” I ask softly. “Look at me. Do you know who I am?”

  Cullen’s throat bobs as he swallows, his cheek pressing against my palm. I stroke his cheekbone with my thumb, the muscles beneath his skin coiled tight. Then his body tenses, jerking against Liam’s hold.

  “Let him go,” I order Liam. Not ask. Not plead. Order.

  And to my utter shock, the SEAL obeys.

  Cullen steps forward into my arms, his body shaking as I wrap myself around him, the pair of us sinking to the stony ground. Coaxing
his head against my shoulder, I rub small circles on his broad back, his powerful body trembling under my touch.

  32

  Cullen

  Cullen sank to the ground, his world narrowing to a set of brilliant blue eyes, to silky strawberry locks framing a beautiful face. Strawberry—not red or blonde. That was important, as was the scent of passionflower shampoo, which Cullen held on to like a lifeline anchoring him to the here and now. He was in Colorado, not Afghanistan, and the men who’d restrained him were his friends, not insurgents. The flashing lights in the distance were from the sun and clouds, not mortar rounds. Yet Cullen’s heart still hammered against his ribs, his breaths quick and too shallow to let him think clearly. He inhaled again, drawing in that calming passionflower scent that cleared away the phantom taint of gunpowder.

  He was in Colorado. In Sky’s arms—which seemed too good to be true and thus took several more breaths to accept as reality.

  And then more reality kicked in—the part where he’d utterly lost it on Sky’s fiancé. At least that was what Liam’s radio transmission said, though nothing about what Cullen witnessed was fiancé-like. Of course, his own behavior had been nothing short of feral. In fact, Cullen still felt like he hadn’t fully regained control even now, his mind and emotions like a grenade with the pin pulled despite the explosion. Shit.

  Blinking, Cullen pulled away from where Sky still held him, the vivid details of what happened hitting him like ice water. A few yards away, Kyan was walking Jaden away to the medical staging area, Liam checked a small cut on Jaz’s forehead, and Eli stood back quietly, ensuring that no passersby came too close. That was good. For the past couple of weeks, Cullen had a feeling that someone was watching him. Dogging his steps. As for Sky… She was still there, crouching on the ground beside him after having walked out of his life.