by Susan Stoker
Beatle leaned down into the putrid-smelling hole and stretched out his arms. He felt hands tighten on his lower body and didn’t feel a moment of fear that his friends would drop him. Compared to some of the life-or-death situations they’d faced together, this was child’s play.
His fingertips brushed against hers and she startled so badly, she almost fell backwards off the boards stacked up in the bottom of the pit.
“Easy, Case.”
She regained her balance and stood on her tiptoes once more. Her fingers grasped Beatle’s. Hard. Her intense gaze met his.
If asked, Beatle never would’ve guessed she had the strength she did, but she grabbed hold of him as if he were her lifeline. Which he supposed he was.
He held her hands in his for a moment, assessing. Her skin was cold, but not frigid. He reached out his index finger and placed it on her wrist, feeling for her pulse. It was a little fast, but beat strongly through her veins.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll hold on to you and as soon as you’re ready, my team is going to pull us both up and out of here. It’ll happen fast, and all you have to do is relax. I won’t let go and I won’t drop you. Understand?”
She nodded.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” It was more a puff of air than actual sound, but Beatle understood.
Turning his head back toward the hole, he said loudly, “Give me a couple more inches.”
Immediately, he felt himself lowered closer to Casey.
His hands loosened around hers, but she didn’t let go of him.
He stared into her eyes. “Let go, sweetheart.”
She shook her head frantically.
Taking a moment, even though Beatle wanted to get both of them up into the fresh air as soon as possible, he said softly, so only she could hear him, “Trust me, Case. I’m not leaving. I’m going to grab hold of you under your arms so it doesn’t hurt as much when we’re pulled up. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from here on out. I’m going to make whoever did this to you pay.” The last bit came out a bit harsher than he’d intended, but Casey didn’t flinch away from the anger he knew was coming off him in waves.
“As long as you want me by your side, I’m there, Casey. In this hole. Out there in the jungle. Even back home. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it. Understand?”
Her pupils were big in her eyes as they slowly adjusted to the dim light coming from the hole above their heads. She nodded.
“Here’s the deal,” he said in the same quiet tone. “I admire the fuck out of you. Anyone else would’ve died in this hole. By all rights, you shouldn’t be alive.” His eyes flicked to the bra she’d attached to the side of the wall, before meeting hers again. “But not you. You’re something special. No pressure, but you should know, I want to be in your life. Any way you’ll let me.”
She snorted at that. Beatle thought it was supposed to be a laugh, but she didn’t have the strength to do it properly. He grinned. “I know, I’m insane. But how about we get out of this fucking hole, get you some water, and you can tell me how crazy I am later. Yeah?”
“Water,” she croaked.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Water. Now, let go of my hands and let’s get out of here.”
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Ghost called down impatiently.
Beatle couldn’t help it. His smile grew. He had nothing to smile about, but hearing Ghost’s pissed-off tone and seeing the answering humor in Casey’s eyes had him fucking ecstatic. He hadn’t lied to her. By all rights, she should be dead. But somehow, she’d survived. Held on. For him to find. She had one hell of an inner strength to still be alive.
Her hands loosened around his, and he didn’t hesitate. Reaching down, his fingers wrapped around her back while his thumbs rested on the edges of her pectoral muscles. He easily lifted her off her feet.
Her felt her hands weakly grip his biceps, but she otherwise hung limply in his hold, trusting him not to drop her and to get her out.
“Now!” he exclaimed loudly.
As soon as the word left his lips, Beatle felt himself moving upward. He held Casey tightly, making sure her body didn’t brush against the edges of the hole as they moved.
She wasn’t light, but she definitely wasn’t heavy, either. In fact, from what he could estimate her height being, she should be much heavier. The urge to feed her, to help her back to a healthy body weight, almost overwhelmed him, but he had to deal with other things first.
As they neared the opening and the light got brighter, her eyes shut once more.
Truck and the others eased him over the edge and Beatle felt the plank of wood scrape against his belly. Before he even had to say anything, Ghost and Fletch were there, helping him take Casey’s weight and easing her out of the hole.
Beatle didn’t let go of her. He simply rolled with her until he was crouched above her on the ground. His hand moved of its own volition to her hair. He brushed the filthy strands out of her face, leaving his palm on the side of her head.
Her eyes squinted open once more and she gave him a small smile. “Hi,” she croaked.
“Hi,” he returned, but didn’t smile. She was breaking his heart. And for someone whose enemies would’ve said didn’t have a heart, that was something.
Beatle didn’t look away from her, just as she kept her eyes on him. “Water,” he ordered, and held out his free hand.
A canteen was placed in his hand and Beatle held it as someone unscrewed the cap. Once it was open, he took a sip to gauge how full it was so he didn’t end up pouring the water all over Casey’s face. Moving his hand so it was behind her neck, Beatle lifted her as gently as if she were a newborn babe. “Drink, sweetheart.”
One of her hands came up to his holding the canteen, and she gripped his wrist. She didn’t try to take the water from him, simply let him assist her.
If he hadn’t already been in love with her, her trust would’ve done it.
She opened her mouth and Beatle placed the edge of the canteen against her dry, cracked lips. “Go easy,” he warned. “You don’t want to get sick.”
She gave him a nod and he tipped the canteen.
The second the water hit her mouth, her eyes closed and she greedily swallowed. Her grip on his wrist tightened, but she didn’t otherwise move. Beatle let her have a few sips, then lowered the container. She whimpered in protest, but didn’t make any sudden movements to take control of the water.
“Let that settle, sweetheart. Then you can have some more.”
“Do you want me to start an IV?” Truck asked quietly from beside them.
Beatle still didn’t take his eyes off Casey’s face. Her own had squinted open once more at the question. But again, she didn’t answer, giving him the power to do what he thought was right.
After thinking about it for a moment, Beatle shook his head. “Not yet. She needs to get cleaned up first and we need to get out of here. Later, before we go to sleep, we’ll do it. It can help hydrate her overnight.”
Beatle would’ve loved nothing more than to do whatever it took to make the woman under him feel better, but his gut was screaming at him to get her away from this village. He didn’t know why, as it seemed to be deserted, but he always trusted his instincts.
“More?” he asked.
Casey nodded eagerly, and he brought the container back up to her mouth. He let her have a few more sips before stopping her.
“Want to try sitting up?” Beatle asked softly.
Casey nodded once more, and Beatle put the canteen down next to them as he moved to her side. His knees touching her thigh, he slid one hand under her back and the other he placed at her hip. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
Beatle slowly brought her to a sitting position and held his breath.
She once again gripped his arms and let him take her weight. The little color she had in her cheeks faded away and she weaved in his hold. But damn if she didn’t take a deep breath
and steady herself. After several moments, her fingers relaxed.
Before she could say anything, Beatle reached into one of the pockets on his vest and took out a pair of sunglasses. He slid them onto her face. “Better?”
“God, yes,” she breathed.
He reached down and picked up the canteen and placed it in one of her hands. “Easy now. Small sips. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Beatle sat back, keeping one hand at the small of Casey’s back as she sipped from the canteen. They heard footsteps running back down the path and, even as Casey tensed against him, Beatle murmured, “It’s okay. It’s your brother and my teammate, Coach.”
It was hard for Beatle to back away from Casey when Blade entered the small clearing, but he did. The other man immediately fell to his knees next to his sister and took her into his arms.
Brother and sister held on to one another almost desperately. Blade finally pulled back, cleared his throat twice as if trying to gather his composure, then said, “You smell like shit, sis.”
She swallowed hard, obviously trying to gain control over her own emotions, and retorted, “Now you do too, asshole.” She wiped the back of her hand down the vest he was wearing, smearing more mud on him.
“Fuck,” Blade said softly, then took his sister into his arms again.
The rest of the team didn’t move, simply stood there, giving the siblings their moment. After a couple minutes, Ghost cleared his throat and said, “We should get moving.”
Blade pulled away from his sister and stood abruptly. “I’m gonna go recon the village one last time.”
No one questioned the move, as they’d all seen the tears in Blade’s eyes. Hollywood immediately volunteered to go with him.
Beatle scooted closer to the woman still sitting on the ground. “What do you think? Want to get out of here?”
She nodded vigorously and gently pushed the sunglasses, which had slipped, back up her nose.
Beatle held out his hand, palm up. “Come on, Casey Shea. Let’s go home.”
He couldn’t deny the feeling of rightness when she placed her smaller palm against his own.
Chapter Four
Casey wanted nothing more than to sink to her knees, then fall face down in the middle of the jungle. But instead, she clenched her teeth and stared at the ground as she put one foot in front of the other.
She was miserable. Every muscle in her body hurt. She was dizzy and felt like she was going to keel over any second, but her desire to get as far away from her own version of hell was stronger than her desire to stop moving.
The thought of guzzling an entire canteen full of water was always at the forefront of her mind, but she knew the man who hadn’t left her side for one second, Beatle, wouldn’t allow that. He was right, she’d probably puke it all up, but fuck did she want to.
She hadn’t ever seen anything as welcoming in her life as his face when he’d leaned into the hellhole where she’d been prisoner. His hair was shorn close to his head, but she could still see its auburn hue. His light brown eyes had felt like they’d pierced her soul when he’d looked at her and told her he was going to protect her and get her home.
He’d lifted her as if she weighed no more than a small child, when she knew that wasn’t the case. Oh, she was well aware that she’d lost weight over the last couple of weeks, but she still wasn’t a lightweight.
He’d treated her at turns like a long-lost friend, happy to see her again; a bodyguard who wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and not let anyone even look at her; and a disinterested bystander. That last one he wasn’t pulling off as well, however. Whenever she got more than a couple steps away from him, he was there, holding her hand, wrapping her fingers around the belt at his back, or simply slowing his steps so he could reach out and grab her if she fell.
And she had fallen. Several times. Her feet didn’t want to work right. She didn’t want to even look at what shape they were in. They’d been waterlogged for so long, Casey knew they were bad. She’d read about trench foot, and had even warned her students before they’d been kidnapped about the importance of taking care of their feet and keeping them dry. She’d tripped so often because she couldn’t really even feel her feet. They were numb. They felt swollen in her boots, but she hadn’t risked taking them off for fear she wouldn’t be able to get them on again.
Her legs weren’t cooperating either. She’d tried to keep her muscles active, but there simply hadn’t been room in the hole to move more than a couple steps at a time. She didn’t want to slow the group down, but knew she was anyway.
Beatle had offered to carry her, more than once, but so far she’d refused. The last thing she wanted was to look weak in front of her brother and his friends. No, when they stopped, she’d collapse then. She wanted to get as far away from the village as possible.
“We need to split up,” Truck said when they’d stopped for a break.
Casey knew they were only stopping on her behalf. These guys could go for days without needing a breather.
“I’m not sure—” Blade started, but was interrupted by Ghost.
“That’s a good idea. We need to get to San José and arrange transport back to the States.”
“What happened to the chopper that was supposed to pick us up?” Hollywood asked in a pissed-off tone.
“It’s a no-go,” Ghost bit out. “It was arranged, but something happened. I don’t even know what, exactly. All I was told was that there were ‘complications’ and it would be delayed. I’m not sitting around with my thumb up my ass waiting for them to get their shit together.”
“Fuck,” Coach swore. “What about the Danes? Wouldn’t they pick us up?”
“Yeah,” Ghost answered. “If they hadn’t already left the country.”
“Dammit!” It was Blade who swore that time. “What the fuck? Seriously? This is bullshit!”
Ghost held up his hand to forestall any other complaints. He sent an apologetic look at Casey before continuing. “You all know as well as I do that no one thought we’d be successful. We were only allowed access to the jungle because the Costa Rican government didn’t want any negative publicity. They rely on tourist dollars, and an American woman kidnapped and killed in their jungles wouldn’t be good for them at all. They’re keeping everything on the down-low.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Fletch grumbled. “The kidnapping wasn’t a secret, the Danish ambassador made sure of that. Everyone already knows what happened down here.”
“But not that anyone was killed,” Ghost argued. “All they know is that a group of women, mostly American, were taken hostage and subsequently rescued. Look, we’re all aware that the government doesn’t want us tromping around out here any longer than we have to. I don’t know what the holdup is, but I’m going to stay in communication with them and get us out of here as soon as possible. If we manage to hoof it to Guacalito before they get their shit together, fine, they can pick us up there.”
No one said anything, and the silence lay thick in the air between the team members as they all digested Ghost’s words.
Casey looked from one man to the next. All seven were big, buff, killing machines. She always knew what her brother was, he hadn’t ever lied to her about what he did for a living. She knew he was a member of a Delta Force team, had even heard him talking about his teammates here and there. But she’d never met them in person.
But here in the middle of the jungle in Central America, she memorized each and every one of their faces. They’d come for her. From what it sounded like, the local government wasn’t happy they were here, but they’d done it anyway. She had no idea if the Army knew about or sanctioned their rescue attempt, but it didn’t matter.
Ghost, the leader, wasn’t any taller or shorter than the others, but he exuded power. Every time he spoke, Casey wanted to immediately do whatever it was he’d ordered…and she wasn’t even in the Army.
Fletch was a bit taller than Ghost, and more muscular. He’d rolled his sle
eves up his arms as they’d walked and she could see colorful tattoos covering his wrists and forearms. If he hadn’t been with the group when she’d been rescued, she might’ve been scared of him, but the friendly look in his eyes put her at ease. She’d learned through the men’s talk as they’d walked that he had a young daughter named Annie.
Coach was tall and dark. His hair was cut close to his head, like that of the others, but his square jaw and crooked nose made him look more like a thug. But he’d quickly earned her respect when he’d done a damn good job of entertaining her by reciting logic puzzles. When she’d asked how in the world he remembered the long riddles, he’d simply shrugged and told her he had an eidetic memory.
Hollywood was beautiful. Almost too good looking to be a part of the team. Casey would’ve thought he was an actor playing a part if it wasn’t for the way he was constantly on alert, watching for anything that might be a threat to the group.
Truck had worried her at first. He was huge, easily the tallest of the team, and his arms were about as wide as her waist. The scar on his face pulled his mouth down into a permanent frown, but once she got to know him a little better she realized that he clearly had a soft side. Besides Beatle, he was the one who was constantly asking if she was all right and making sure she was comfortable as they hiked through the jungle. She knew without a doubt if he realized how not all right she was, he’d be the first to halt their retreat for the night and insert the IV he’d wanted to put in when she’d first been removed from the hole.
And then there was Beatle. His name made her smile. She had no idea why his nickname was what it was, but a part of her wanted to believe it was fate. She studied bugs, and he was named after one.
She’d immediately felt comfortable and safe with him. She supposed she should be clinging to her brother, but for some reason, she was uneasy being around him out here. He was just Aspen to her, not a super soldier. She wanted, needed, to keep the big brother she teased and laughed with separate from her ordeal.
It also made no sense to her at the moment, but she couldn’t deny her attraction to Beatle.