Reckless (With Me Book 3)

by Sue Wilder

  “You will,” she agreed calmly. “When we first met, your life had changed radically, with nothing but platitudes, how you should adapt. What you had to give up. When, for you, Garrett, owning Ibiza, and being Ibiza, were so intertwined that even the imagined loss of your physical abilities took away everything.”

  “I can’t risk a mission and watch men die because my fucking back isn’t what it was.”

  “Nothing is what it was, and you’ll recover full use in your back. How many doctors have told you that? Physical therapists? The reason you won’t listen is based on a fear of losing more than you’ve already lost. Oz. The men on your team. Ibiza. Now you see Sunny, needing you, and it’s that fear rising, because you found purpose through her, Garrett. A missing part of yourself. And if she’s lost, so are you.”

  My pulse grew unsteady as Luna’s insight hit. The mission fear hadn’t kicked in until I was in that helicopter, unable to move. I’d felt that same way when they pulled Oz from the sea. When we put him in the ground.

  And every time I’d get close to flying.

  I stared at my bloodied hands. Honest conversations, I told myself. That was what Luna expected from me.

  “Your sister and I—we’ve slept together, more than once. Then we fought about it, the damn meaning, and I told her I didn’t know how to be with her. Because I don’t. That part of me is messed up, and she knows it.”

  “The dreams?”

  “We were in bed. I was dreaming. She… touched me, and I fucking attacked her, threw her to the floor.”

  Luna gently rubbed my back. I shook my head, looked away.

  “I scared the shit out of her, Luna, but she still tried to make it right. Told me how she had dreams of rabbits with red eyes.”

  “She did,” Luna said with a smile. “After watching Watership Down. My mom would make her drink hot chocolate.”

  “She made me drink it, too. The hot chocolate, and I told her what happened in that desert. Parts of it. Not all.”

  “But you talked to her, and that’s important, because you trusted her.”

  “She can’t trust me.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I called her a distraction I couldn’t afford, and she said she couldn’t allow herself to get lost in me, that it didn’t work for her, if one minute I needed her close. The next, and I wanted her absent.”

  “You were being honest in what you felt, Garrett. And relationships are hard. If they’re easy, then they’re conveniences.”

  I stared at the ceiling and drew in a tired breath. “I don’t think you call a few nights of sex a relationship.”

  Luna laughed, a gentle sound. “Good God, Garrett. You’ve had a relationship with Sunny for fifteen years. She’s always been there, in your heart. You’ve always been in hers, and it doesn’t matter if you have sex or not. If you can’t define what it means, or not. Even when you fight, reality will not change.”

  “Maybe it should.”

  “That’s not likely. Sunny makes her own choices, but as someone who knows her very well, once she gives her heart away, she doesn’t take it back. She gave it to you when you made her wash those painted hearts from your car—even though you were a total jerk-ass about it.”

  My mouth twisted at the therapeutically blunt description. “I probably deserved that.”

  “Yes, and I’m beginning to see why she’s so mad at you.”

  Frustration tightened in my shoulders, but I gave up the fight. Denial wasn’t in the cards. Drawing up my knees, I braced my forearms and stared at the slow clenching of my fists. Blood covered my knuckles, and my hands were swollen. I looked like a beaten man.

  “I failed her.” My voice roughened. “I left her at the house with Tad, and when you arrived with Con—the same look was on your face. Trouble’s look, before I walked out. I did that to her, and I can’t stop thinking a few nights are as good as it gets for us. She’s better off without me.”

  Luna huffed out a chiding laugh. “You’ve said a lot of crazy things over the past months, Garrett, but that one tops the list.”

  “I’ve got my own list,” I argued stubbornly.

  “I’m sure you do, with two sides, pro and con. Because you’re at war with two sides of yourself—what you want against what you think you deserve.”

  “There’s arrogance in assuming I deserve anything,” I countered, watching my knuckles tighten and then release. “I’ve made decisions because I believed they were necessary. I found satisfaction in what I did. A release when I let the anger work. I accomplished goals. Killed people, saved others. But now I question the reasons, and if the gains were worth the cost.”

  “What about the people you protected?” Luna pushed her hair aside as she looked at me. “People who couldn’t help themselves? Weren’t they worth the cost?”

  I turned my head away and heard her sigh.

  “Believe me, Garrett, I know evil people exist in this world. I’ve met a few. But doing what you do requires a certain kind of courage—the willingness to set aside personal safety for someone you’ve never met. Maybe even a diplomat’s daughter who didn’t deserve what you gave up. And…” She placed her hand on my wrist, slid her fingers down to my tight fist and bruised knuckles. The cuts and smears of blood. “Where you see cost, I see inspiration. An inner tenacity, and hope that good will win.”

  “The world isn’t like that, Luna. Marsh has her, and the minute I mentioned the beacon, Missy understood. Tad can deploy that beacon manually. Or it deploys automatically, when the boat is fifteen feet underwater. She’s out on the Yaquina reef, and you’ve lived here long enough to realize what that means.”

  I felt Luna’s fingers jerk, then tighten, and her eyes grew bright. “You’re going to get Sunny back and be happy, Garrett. The way you have always deserved to be happy.”

  “Look at me,” I ground out, harsh, because Luna needed to see who I was. “Even when I know her life is at risk, I’m sitting here, stark-ass frozen, forcing air into my lungs. I can’t get my pulse to stop racing. My mind to focus.” Glaring down, I stared at my splayed fingers. My hands, shaking. “I’m like a fucking drunk trying to go cold turkey.”

  “Those are physical responses,” Luna said. “Your body tries to warn you that a challenge is coming, while your brain tells you it’s time to be afraid. Because there might be loss. You get stuck in the image of who you think you are, Garrett. A frightened man. A failure. And as long as you stay stuck—that is who you are.”

  “I’m afraid to goddamn fly, Luna. To get in that helicopter, save two people I love—that is the fuck who I am.”

  “You are not helpless.” Her gaze held steady with mine. “Your strength comes from the choices you make. And the pain you’re experiencing right now—don’t fear it, Garrett. Because you’re allowing yourself to feel again. Hope again. Need someone again, despite the possibility of losing them.”

  “Garrett.” Con stood in the doorway. “The motel incident ended twenty minutes ago. Hastings is safe. He’s being debriefed. Slate and Hicks are in custody. Also—thought you’d want to know this. We’ll have a full trauma kit on the bird. Riggs served as a combat medic, so he’ll be with us. In case there’s a need.”

  I scrubbed at my face. “Any word on a signal?”

  “Not yet.”

  Rising to my feet, I extended a hand to Luna. She stood and stepped around the broken chair.

  “I’ll send you a bill for the damage,” she said dryly. “But I think every smashed chair was worth it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Soleil

  I was warm, wrapped in Garrett’s scent. Floating, until I tried to lift my arm. Then I was weak, breathing in with the strain. Searching with my fingers spread, finding the space where he should be… empty.

  Blankets were soft against my skin. Light, glimmering, but moisture, like tears, hitting my face until I turned my head. Called out.

  He didn’t answer. Each heartbeat… heavy, then faster and faster.
I called his name again. Desperate.

  “Don’t…” I moistened my mouth, my lips. So dry. Hot. My breath seemed lost in my lungs; I had to force it out before I could speak. “Leave…”

  “Dacree.”

  Water, dribbling into my mouth, down my chin.

  “Drink, please. It’s Tad, Dacree. Open your eyes.”

  “We’ve said these things before.” His frightened face swam into focus, and I struggled to sit up. “You’re too young to deal with this. With… me.”

  “I grew up fast.” He adjusted the pillows behind my shoulders.

  “I was dreaming.”

  “About dude. You kept calling his name. He’s coming and I need you to drink this water. The last time, it ran all over your chin.”

  He held the bottle while I swallowed. “Any more good news, bad news?” I joked. “Need a laugh.”

  “Good news. We’re still drifting. Bad news, it’s spitting rain and I can’t take you out on the deck, so I’ve got you close to the door. I stripped dude’s bed for the blankets. There’s more, if you need them.”

  “I’m fine.” I plucked at the folds, needing Garrett’s scent for stability. Reassurance. “What about you? How are you holding up? Marsh didn’t hurt you, did he? I think he hit you pretty hard.”

  “Nah. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Tad brushed at his hair. “He might have given you a concussion, though. I checked this first aid book dude has on board. And I found a survival suit. I want you to put it on. That way, if you… end up in the water, it will keep you alive.”

  Alive. At first, I didn’t understand what he meant. Then I did. “No,” I said firmly. “I can’t put it on. Not with this arm. And I won’t. You need to wear it, not me.”

  “No—”

  “Don’t argue.” I closed my fingers around his hand and gave a shake for emphasis. “You’re the one who has to go out on the deck. Shoot off the flares. If a wave hit and washed you over, your mom would kill me, and I’d still end up dead.”

  I gave him the mom glare the way Missy would, but the smile was there. Tad’s smile wavered in return, then he tugged the thick suit over his legs and pushed his arms awkwardly into the sleeves. “Yeah, that would suck if you got saved and I didn’t, and she nailed you to the wall next to dude.”

  “And she’d enjoy doing it,” I teased as he pulled the heavy zipper to his throat. Through the open doorway, the teak deck was dark and rain-slick. Rising swells were higher than the boat railing, and as the Ibiza rose up, then down, water sloshed against the bait lockers.

  “Tad,” I said warningly, “You can’t go out in that.”

  “Sure I can.” He pointed to his shoes. “Got traction. And I found dude’s ditch bag when I searched the boat. Honestly, I forgot all about it until a while ago. But it’s got his survival stuff, and I found the emergency beacon. It’s out on the deck, tied down, but I got it going. They can find us, Dacree. A signal shoots up to the satellite, someone gets it, and then Search and Rescue comes. Just hang with me a little longer, okay?”

  “Okay.” I sipped more water. Felt my stomach cramp when I swallowed.

  “That Marsh guy was sick shit. Who’s Elle?”

  “Someone I never knew until it was too late. I hurt her, Tad. I didn’t intend to, but sometimes we make decisions that are selfish because we don’t think about anyone else. And that’s what I did. I hurt other people, not just Elle. And maybe I hurt Marsh, in his sick way of thinking.”

  “You know what my mom says when I get like you’re just getting?” Tad’s expression was stern enough to be unsettling. “Self-pity doesn’t look good on your face, Tad. And neither does stupid thinking. That’s what she says, and I’m saying it to you, too. If you didn’t mean to hurt this Elle, then what happened was like one of those things that happen. Like butterflies flapping around the equator causing some storm halfway around the world.”

  “Tell me about Garrett.” I needed to change the conversation. “I liked what you said before.”

  “About him being a hero?”

  The boat rode up and over a growing swell, slanting to the side as it slid down into the trough. Tad scrambled to catch the water bottle that rolled from my hand.

  “He is a hero.” Tad held out the bottle so I could grasp it. “But he won’t see it that way. After his accident, he started having these panic attacks—really bad, like he freezes around anything that flies. He said it’s stupid fear, but it makes him weak because he can’t beat it. Then there’s his back. He can’t take the chance it will fail him when he needs to save someone. I mean, it makes some sense, or it did when he first came. But his back is better. I think he uses it as an excuse, but what do I know? I’m just a kid.”

  “More than that, Tad. You just told me you grew up fast.”

  His face reddened and he toyed with the suit. “Sometimes, I wish dude was my dad, you know? I feel… torn. These two sides of me are being yanked apart like a turkey wishbone when I was a kid, with mom on one end and me on the other. And we’d pull until it broke, and the larger side got their wish.”

  “Love isn’t limited. We can love more than one person, at the same time and for the same reasons. You love your dad because he helped create you. He’s always going to be there, in your heart. And you can love Garrett because he’s here right now, sharing his life. Teaching the things Tad Senior would want you to know. And I think your dad is smiling really big right now. Happy that you love both him and Garrett.”

  “I can’t stop wondering.” Tad rubbed a hand across his eyes. “This is where their boat went down, and maybe us—being in the same spot—is just another one of those things that… happen.”

  “I don’t believe that—because you are fighting like hell to make it not happen.” I leaned forward and brushed the hair from his face before he could do it. “And I want you to do something for me.”

  “Anything.”

  My mind blanked. Dizziness swamped me, and I thought, for an instant, that I’d forgotten to breathe. “If you get the chance, and I don’t, would you tell Garrett…”

  “Dacree, don’t go to sleep. Please. What should I tell him?”

  “That I…”

  My head ached; pain thudded in my jaw, behind my eyes. I listened to the shuffling as Tad left. Then the sound of fireworks.

  “Open your eyes, Dacree.” Tad’s voice was urgent. “I heard them and I fired the flare and they’re coming. Dude—he just jumped out of a freaking helicopter for you. He loves you, Dacree. He told me in your dragon language. He said you were the love of his life and I was your loyal protector and you have to wake up.”

  Tad’s hands were unsteady on my shoulders.

  “He’s here. He has men with him. Goddamn it, Dacree.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Garrett

  Tad stumbled toward me the moment my feet braced against the rocking deck of the Ibiza. For several heartbeats, all I could do was hold him. Then Max was hitting the deck beside me, unlatching the cable from his harness. I didn’t remember unlatching mine. “Where is she?”

  “There.” Tad looked toward the salon. “He shot her, dude. Hurt her, and I’ve been trying to keep her awake.”

  Savage anger raced through me. “Where is he?”

  “Gone. He made me call a boat. Fat Lady. Then he messed with the engine and I couldn’t get anything to work and I’m sorry.”

  He scrubbed at his eyes, and I crushed him in my arms, unable to do anything but bury my face in his hair for the several seconds it took Max to reach my side. Tad was so frightened, too young, and he needed those few seconds with me.

  “You did fine, Tad.” Max took charge. “Put this harness on. See that helicopter up there? We’re going for a ride.”

  My focus shifted to trouble. She struggled to sit up. Her voice sounded thready. “Garrett?”

  “I’m here.” My knees hit the deck and I cupped her face. Quickly assessed the gash that oozed blood into her hair. The shoulder bandage was stained, but not with
the bright red that would have alarmed me.

  Her bleeding had stopped, and I shrugged the pack from my back, unzipped it, pulled out a rescue harness.

  “You’re going to put this on,” I told her. “Legs first. That’s a girl.” I swallowed and shut down the emotion. “Let me help with the left arm… sorry. You’re doing fine. Right arm. I’m cinching this tight, trouble. I’ll help you stand, then hook your harness to mine. Shield your face against me, hold on with your good arm. I’ve got you.”

  She blinked, struggled with the deck’s uneven roll. Max had Tad in the air, their harnesses linked. The kid’s arms were wrapped tight despite the bulky survival suit. Overhead, the bird’s rotor blades were whoop-whooping in what looked like slow motion, slicing through the spitting rain and caught in the glare of the emergency spotlights.

  Holding trouble, I watched until Con pulled both Max and Tad safely through the open helicopter bay. Moments later, Con leaned out and guided the cable as it dropped.

  I held up my gloved hand, swinging for purchase, and missed.

  “Goddamn it,” I growled, but this was our only option. Flying in, the weather changed, and the pilot warned against using the rescue basket. The torque generated—if the basket whipped in the wind—could snap cables, drop the basket into the ocean, or throw the chopper off-balance. A joined-harness rescue became necessary despite the risk to trouble, when we were unsure about her injuries.

  I didn’t think she’d be harmed by the harness, but I cleared it with Riggs, using the radio fastened to my shoulder. He told me how to support her body, keep her head and shoulder stable.

  My pulse settled. Every muscle grew taut with anticipation. The cable swung close again and my fingers closed, secure. I felt the slack, snapped the connection into place and wrapped both arms around her, hooked one leg around her calves, then told her to press her cheek against my chest while I protected her head.

  The cable tightened. I did my best to absorb the sudden jerk. Wind whipped her hair and the rain stung my face. When Con hauled us inside the chopper, Riggs was waiting. He had trouble on her back, fitting a neck collar, wrapping a survival blanket. He flashed a penlight toward her eyes. Asked questions, mainly to keep her talking. I listened to her voice, not the answers. The pilot banked sharply. Through the open bay, I saw the Ibiza rise and fall over another surging swell, a slash of white against the dark blue ocean.