Wolf Haven (The Wyoming Series Book 9)

by Lindsay McKenna

  Gasping, Sky strained, trying to stop it, unable to move her head to avoid the water. The chains bit savagely into her wrists and ankles as she tried to escape. The water kept coming, funneling into her nostrils. Sky choked. She gasped. Coughed violently, water sputtering out of her nose and mouth. Oh, God, she was suffocating beneath that stream of water! Screaming, her spine arching upward, the chains biting deep into her flesh, she was drowning! Grayness began to move in front of her eyes. The water kept flowing into her nose. Oh, God, she was going to die!

  * * *

  GRAY WAS ROUSTED from sleep by Sky’s screams drifting across the hall. What the hell? Wearing only a set of boxer shorts, he staggered out of bed and threw open the door. What time was it? He saw milky streams of moonlight down the hall from the living-room area as he ran across it to Sky’s room.

  Flipping on the light, he halted once inside Sky’s room. Jesus. Sky was on the wooden floor, her legs tangled up in the sheet and blanket. She was on her back, her eyes glazed and unseeing, fighting off an invisible enemy, arms flying, legs kicking outward. Breathing hard, Gray quickly crouched near her, but not so close to get struck by her flailing arms and legs.

  “Sky,” he called. “Sky? It’s all right. It’s Gray McCoy. You’re not there. You’re here. Listen to me, will you?” Oh, he knew the virulence of flashbacks. Knew that Sky was caught up in her torture, saw it in the stretch and tension in her contorted face. His heart caved in with anguish. Gray wanted to scoop Sky up, hold her hard and safe. But that wasn’t how it worked. If he touched her, he could deepen the hold of the nightmare that had trapped her within its terrible embrace. She could think he was the enemy.

  She was gasping and choking, jerking her head from side to side. If he had any doubts that she’d been waterboarded, they were gone now. Her reactions were consistent with that kind of torture.

  “Sky? Sky, it’s Gray. Listen to me, will you? You’re safe. You’re not back there. You’re here with me in Wyoming. Come on. Listen to my voice. Let it lead you out of that nightmare you’re caught up in. Please? Listen to me?”

  Gray spoke in a low, urgent tone to Sky, hoping like hell he could reach her, break the hold of the flashback that had her in its steel grip.

  It hurt to watch her struggle. Her chest was heaving beneath her white cotton nightgown. The fabric had hitched halfway up her thighs, her lower legs caught in the sheet as she tried to kick out. Reaching out, Gray swiftly unraveled the tight bonds of the sheet from around her lower legs. Gray kept up the singsong litany. He wanted to kill those bastards who had done this to her.

  Slowly, over ten minutes, Gray began to see Sky calming. Began to see the glazed look slowly leaving her wide, terror-filled eyes. Her hair was matted with sweat, the strands thick and twisted around her head. How badly he wanted to protect Sky.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said over and over.

  Sky kept hearing a man’s low, urgent voice in the background. Finally, she recognized it. Instantly, she homed in on it as she fought, choked and screamed, trying to evade the water pouring down her nostrils.

  Her legs were free! It broke the grip of the nightmare. She floated somewhere in between the paralyzing terror and Gray’s voice growing stronger, calling her back to safety.

  Slowly, the adrenaline left her shaking body. She coughed violently, feeling the swell of water in her nose tunneling down into her throat, eventually receding. Sky stopped seeing the tiny mud hut room, stopped feeling the cold, wet wooden board beneath her body.

  Blinking rapidly, she realized she was no longer there. She saw a crystal light in the center of a ceiling above her. She was warm. She sobbed for breath, raised her hands. She was no longer cuffed to the table. The pain, the blood flowing across her wrists had been very real. As she stared at her wrists in front of her face, she noticed the many long, pink, jagged scars around them.

  “Sky? It’s Gray. Turn and look at me. Come on.”

  His low voice was so close. Sky slowly turned her head, staring up into his worried, narrowed eyes. He was crouched near her head, his arms draped over his knees, watching her. There was anger deep in his eyes. Yet a sense of safety poured off him toward her; it was undeniable. Gagging, Sky fought the hold of the nightmare. She was here. She wasn’t there. She was safe! Hot tears jammed into her eyes. Tears of relief.

  “Sky? I’m going to slide my arms around you. Can I hold you?” Gray watched the tears spilling down her tense cheeks. Her flesh was waxen. It ripped at his heart. He had to do something to get her out of that toxic nightmare.

  She rolled slowly to her side and struggled to sit up. She pressed her hand against her tightly shut eyes. Terrible, gutting sounds tore out of her.

  Gray didn’t wait for an answer. He moved in quickly, sliding his arms around her shaking shoulders and beneath her bent knees. In moments, he picked her up and carried her out of the bedroom and into the darkened living room. She collapsed against him, her face pressed and buried against his naked chest, her fingers digging convulsively into his shoulder, as if trying to hide. Gray understood.

  The thin wash of moonlight gave him enough light to see where he was going. Sitting down in one corner of the leather couch, Gray settled Sky across his lap. He pulled a bright orange afghan from the top of the couch and hauled it across her, feeling how cold she was. She was a quivering mass in his arms. Her sobs serrated his pounding heart as he pulled her tightly against him, his arms around her, just holding her. Holding her safe in a world gone insane around her.

  He tried not to be influenced by the sweet smell of her hair as he tucked her head beneath his jaw. Tried not to allow the soft firmness of her body against his to stir up his own male needs. Tears always made him feel so damned helpless, but at least Sky could release the terror.

  Rocking her gently in his arms, he rasped against her ear, “It’s all right, Sky. You’re safe now. You’re with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you now, baby. It’s all right. You’re safe....”

  CHAPTER SIX

  WITHOUT THINKING, GRAY began to run his hand across Sky’s tangled, damp hair in an effort to calm her. He felt so damned bad for Sky as she cried in his arms. Her warm tears moistened the hair across his chest. Her fingers spasmed, opening and closing against his flesh. If anyone ever thought that waterboarding wasn’t torture, they were so full of shit. The proof was huddled in his arms. Sky physically shook, emotionally and mentally broken by the torture. Gray had no idea how many times it had happened, either. The more they did it, the more broken the human being became, splintered and fractured.

  “It’s all right, Sky,” he murmured against her ear. “It’s going to be okay. Get it out. Let it go.” And then Gray grimaced. He was the last person a woman would want around when she was crying.

  When Julia cried, which wasn’t often, he’d get up and leave the hut at the Peruvian village. He just couldn’t handle it then. But now... This was different. He’d matured, fast. And Sky was a military vet like himself. She’d paid the ultimate price of war. She was a nurse, someone who helped save people’s lives, and she should never have been put in this situation in the first place. But she had been. There was no defined front in Afghanistan, and that left all women serving in the military just as exposed as the men. Gray knew the statistics, that a hundred and fifty women had died in combat in Iraq and Afghanistan, untrained and yet out on the frontier of combat.

  Gray smoothed her hair, allowing his hand to trail across her hunched, trembling shoulders, moving slowly down her long spine. Every time he caressed her, Sky relaxed a little bit more against him.

  Sky needed a lot of care right now, and Gray didn’t mind giving it to her. What would have happened if he hadn’t been here to interrupt her grisly nightmare? How many times had they occurred and Sky had had no one to help her or talk her down?

  Without thinking, Gray pressed a soft kiss to her hair, tighteni
ng his embrace a little, absorbing the continued trembling of her body. Sky’s weeping slowed and she finally grew quiet within his embrace. Gray could feel her naked vulnerability, her trust. It humbled him, since he couldn’t help but want her in other ways. She didn’t deserve that kind of reaction from him at all. Instead, Gray forced himself to focus on giving back to Sky, not taking. Too much had been taken from her already.

  Sky finally unclenched her hand against his chest and wiped her face with her shaking fingers. Gray caught her hand, holding it within his own. Her hand was so small and white against his large, darkly tanned one. Pressing her hand against his chest, he whispered, “It’s going to be all right, Sky. You’re past the worst of it. Just rest. I’ll be here. I won’t let you be alone right now. I’ll stay with you as long as you want....”

  Gray’s roughened words spilled through Sky’s fractured emotional state. Eyes tightly shut, her cheek resting on the damp, silky hair across his chest, she felt his male strength gently surrounding her, making her feel safe. His voice soothed her, and with each ragged breath she took, this new calm chased away the virulent terror still holding her in its invisible grasp.

  Gray’s presence brought her back. They shared a common military background. Somewhere in her fragmented mind, Sky wondered if Gray had ever been tortured. It was as if he understood on levels she could never give voice to. And he was here for her. Present. Like a big, bad guard dog.

  He was a large man, and she felt so small leaning against him. Gray was holding her gently as he might hold a hurt child. The PTSD, the waterboarding, had stripped her of her own internal strength. Whereas before she had always been the calm, quiet, strong one in charge of the E.R. at Bagram, she now felt as if she were constantly unraveling. Sky had been unable, thus far, to put up boundaries on her wild, rampant feelings, to stop them or not allow them to run her life as they did now.

  If she’d been worried Gray wouldn’t understand, or that he’d be disgusted with her as her father had been, she was relieved. Sky had had several episodes of the same nightmare at home, her father aggravated with her, but she didn’t feel anything exuding from Gray right now except care and protection. Sky never thought in a million years she’d ever be the recipient of a SEAL’s guardianship. Right now she was like a starved animal lapping up anything Gray could give to her in the way of emotional support. There was no judgment emanating from him. Every time Gray’s large hand gently trailed across her hair and down her back, Sky felt a little more stable. A little more calm. His mouth lingered near her brow, the warmth of his moist breath flowing across her face. There was such tenderness in this man. She’d never experienced it quite like this. Gray was not only soothing her, but Sky also felt as if his presence were actually, in some miraculous way, feeding her strength she presently didn’t have. Feeding her hope. Tending to her torn soul.

  “Better now?” he asked, feeling her sigh in response in his arms. Gray felt her head bob once, felt her unclench her hand and her long fingers smooth out across his upper chest. His flesh leaped and burned beneath her hesitant, innocent touch. He knew Sky wasn’t sexually coming on to him. She was lost in the ugly morass of her injured emotions. Gray shut his eyes tightly, resting his jaw against her hair, holding her a little tighter for a moment.

  Sky cleared her throat that ached with tension. “I—I’m sorry....”

  “Hush. It’s okay, Sky. I know what you went through. I’m just glad I was nearby when the flashback happened.”

  Sky frowned, her mouth compressed. Shame flowed through her. “You shouldn’t have to see this. Or hear me...” In the hospital when she had the nightmares, they gave her an antianxiety drug to calm her down. Her screams woke up everyone else. She shared a six-bed unit with other wounded vets. If she didn’t have the nightmares, then one of them would. No one ever got quality sleep in that unit.

  A chuckle rumbled up through Gray’s chest. She hungrily absorbed the sound of it, felt his hand slide along her jaw, tenderly smooth strands behind her ear. God, how pitiful she was. She was so starved for his continuing light caresses. So utterly needy, it shamed her. She was a nurse, the one to bestow care upon those who so desperately needed it. Now she was in their position.

  “Hey, we’re vets. We’ve seen combat. SEALs never leave anyone behind, baby. I’m not leaving you behind. Okay?”

  Baby. The endearment renewed her hope. A broken sigh escaped from her taut lips. Gray continued to shower her with his attention. How many times in her life as a nurse had she done similarly for her vets who lay broken and hurting in her hospital ward? So many that Sky had lost count.

  Gray eased back again, no doubt seeing the tears. “Good tears this time?” he asked, his throat tightening. She looked up at him, feeling her world shift. The corners of his mouth lifted. “Talk to me, Sky.”

  Her throat ached with tension from the rawness of her earlier screams. “Y-yes, good tears.” His dark eyes changed and grew kind. Sky leaned against his chest, the soothing sound of his slow heartbeat continuing to calm her. She had no strength with which to move. She didn’t want to anyway.

  “How can I help you, Sky?”

  His words sank into her heart, and she swallowed hard. “What you’re doing right now,” she whispered brokenly.

  Gray nodded and slid his hand down her back. “It helps to talk about it, Sky. Maybe not right now, but later. I’m a good listener. I’ve been in combat. I’ve had friends captured and tortured. I know a little bit of what you’re going through because of them.”

  Something broke inside Sky. She realized Gray cared deeply. The low tenor of his voice vibrated through her, giving her the courage she’d lacked for a long time. Opening her eyes, Sky stared out into the darkened living room. Thin, milky streams of moonlight made the window and other areas where the beams struck look gray instead of dark. “I was in a Black Hawk crash. They were flying me and a surgeon to a forward operating base near the Pakistan border. An Army soldier had acute appendicitis and needed immediate emergency surgery.” Sky swallowed and emotionally gathered herself. She told him about the crash, being captured and of Aaron being shot in the head. When she got to her torture, she rasped, “They threw me on a board, covered my face with a cloth and poured water into my nose.” She felt his arms tighten around her, as if trying to protect her from the terrifying torture. Words failed her. The shame and humiliation were right there, eating away at her.

  Gray closed his eyes, battling his rage. He forced his emotions deep, opened his eyes and asked in a low tone, “Do you know how many times you were waterboarded?”

  Sky shook her head. “I was a captive for two weeks. Th-they would come in two days between each waterboarding bout and do it again. They’d cuff me to that damned table... I lost count. All I know is that by the time the SEAL team came, I was a shadow of myself. They found me quivering in a corner, no clothes on... I—I really don’t remember much after that, Gray. Someone put a blanket around me. The next thing I knew, he lifted me up and carried me in his arms. He got me out of that horrid room. I could breathe fresh air. I heard a helicopter nearby, and that’s the last thing I recall. I woke up in Landstuhl a few days later.”

  Sky swallowed hard tears in her voice. “Gray...I didn’t even get to thank the SEALs who rescued me. I feel bad about that. Those guys risked their lives for me....”

  “I can find out for you,” he reassured her, pressing a chaste kiss to her brow. “That’s ST3’s territory you were in. I’ll make a call and get the intel. I know you’d probably like to email them, and they’d feel good hearing from you. Okay?” Because it could be part of her ongoing healing process.

  Sky wearily nodded, pressing her cheek against his warm, hard chest. The soft, silky hair tickled her chin and nose. Gray’s scent was evergreen soap and his own unique male scent. Inhaling it, Sky felt as if she were inhaling life. “Th-thank you. It would mean so much for me to do at least that m
uch for them. They’re all heroes in my eyes.”

  Gray stared into the darkness, his mind moving at light speed. Sky had been waterboarded a lot. It was an ineffective way to gather intel, that he knew. It had been proved that when a prisoner thought he was dying of suffocation, he would say anything to get the waterboarding to stop. And Gray was sure Sky had told them what they wanted to know. God, she was only a nurse! She wasn’t privy to black-ops movements. She didn’t carry a security clearance. All that was above her pay grade. Then why the hell had they done this to her? To what end?

  “You went from Landstuhl to Balboa Naval Hospital to heal up?” he asked.

  Nodding, Sky opened her eyes. “I spent six months there. The first month—” she grimaced “—I was on a cocktail of drugs. Emotionally, I was a basket case.”

  “Baby, anyone who’d gone through what you did would be, too.”

  “It tore me apart.” Shaking her head, Sky sponged in Gray’s quiet strength, his warmth and his attentiveness. He understood. All SEALs went through SERE, where they were all waterboarded to show them what it was like. But because of her military classification, she never had to take that dreaded course. Maybe if she had, she’d have been more mentally prepared, not taken by the shock and terror of it. Maybe...

  “You’ve come a long way in a short time, Sky, with those kinds of experiences behind you.” Gray held her desolate gaze. “You realize that, don’t you? You’re functioning at a high level despite it.”

  “I feel so damn weak, Gray. I feel like I’m set back every time I have that same flashback.”

  “That’s going to change,” Gray promised her quietly, curving his fingers against her cheek. “You’re with someone who knows the score. I’m here for you. I won’t walk away from you, either, so don’t think you’re taking advantage of me.” He smiled a little as he watched hope flare to life in her shadowed eyes. “We’ll take this one day at a time. What you have to do is tell me when the stress is getting to you. I can take you out of the line of fire, and you can come back here to the house and rest. Ramp down.”