Wounded Courage (Lucky Thirteen)

by S. M. Butler

  “You don’t want to see what’s in those boxes?” Hardy looked confused.

  “I think I need a few minutes to breathe.”

  “Okay,” Hardy said. “It’s cool. We don’t have to meet with Master Chief until later, right?”

  “Couple of hours.”

  “Then go. I can get Brody to help me with the whole unloading thing.”

  “Hey, don’t let him exert himself too much. He’s still healing.”

  Hardy nodded, though we both knew Brody was fine. He’d been tortured a few months earlier, on the same mission where we’d found Addison. But Brody was a kid who bounced back quickly.

  I told Hardy goodbye and headed back toward Addison’s room. I had some unfinished business with her. I stopped at her closed door and wondered if I was doing the right thing or not. What if she didn’t want to tell me the truth? Lies weren’t something I could deal with well, not from someone who said she loved me.

  I blew out a breath and rapped on the door.

  She opened it almost immediately, surprised when she saw me on the other side. “I thought…”

  “We should talk.”

  She glanced behind me, looking into the hallway.

  “No one else is here. It’s just me.”

  She nodded and opened the door the rest of the way. I stepped over the threshold and waited until she shut the door behind me. “What’s wrong?”

  “At that storage place… I saw you take something, Addison.”

  “What do you mean?” Her voice was even, but her complexion had paled, the muscles in her neck drawn tight by the clench of her jaw.

  “Don’t lie to me, Addison. If you want to pretend, that’s fine, but you told me that you loved me. If you do, then be honest with me.”

  I could see the war in her face. Her eyes were conflicted, normally gray irises had darkened with the shimmering addition of tears building. She blew out out a breath, much like I had outside her door, preparing her next words. She couldn’t possibly have any idea of what she did to me on a regular basis. Even in her jean shorts and T-shirt, I just wanted to touch every inch of her, from her gloriously long, tanned legs to the fullness of her soft lips. I was having a hell of a time trying to be professional with her.

  “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it will mean my life.”

  I didn’t understand that, but it seemed I wasn’t meant to, yet.

  She cleared her throat. “Simon won’t stop with your team. Or with me. I’m a side effect, and for now, he’ll leave me be. Actually, I’m fairly safe in his eyes, but not with his enemies. It’s better for them if I’m dead.”

  “I know that, Addison. That’s why—”

  “Hang on, I’m not done here. I’ve been thinking, all through the car ride back.” She pulled me by my wrist to the bed and sat me down. She remained standing though. “I have to meet with him. I know you don’t want me to, but this has to end. The Collective is one organization that has it out for Simon. They will come after me, and they won’t care who they hurt.”

  “It’s not safe for you to leave.”

  “No, it’s not.” She jutted out her chin in defiance. I saw it then. She’d never take no for an answer on this. If I told her no, she’d do it anyway.

  “Don’t give me that look.” Her eyes narrowed, so I added, “You look too much like your brother when you do that, and it’s creepy… you know, since I make out with you.”

  She blinked, so surprised that I had to laugh. She punched me in the chest, but not hard. “You’re such an asshole.” But my joke had its intended effect. She eased up a little, and walked to the head of the bed. “My best shot is something I didn’t tell you about. But you want me to be honest, and I will. You were right. I was hiding something.”

  She leaned over her pillow, and pulled out a small leather notebook from inside it. She ran her thumbs over the brown exterior, exhaling loudly. Then she held it out toward me. “This is my secret. This is my safety net with Simon. That is why he won’t kill me.”

  I took the notebook, but I didn’t open it yet. My gut warred, happy that she’d come clean with me, but nervous about everything else. Master Chief had advised us to get Addison out before LT saw her. Chris and I had kept it quiet on purpose. We knew Addison. As soon as she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to do something she’d be gone. “If you’re that intent on going back, then let me go back with you. I’ll protect you.”

  Then she did something I didn’t expect and she burst out laughing.

  “I’m serious.”

  “No offense, Murphy, but you look like a SEAL.”

  “That’s the best part, love. SEALs are trained to blend.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re trained to kill.”

  “While being invisible,” I pointed out. “Trust me.”

  She glared at me, so I flashed a half-smile, which seemed to melt the annoyance. She nodded to the notebook. “Open it. Then you can decide if you want to go.”

  Her body was tense, her eyes on the notebook as I opened to the first page. Immediately, I tried to tamp down the jealousy that threatened to overcome. Inside, on the cover, was a note from Alex Giroux.

  For our future, love.

  A life of independence and freedom.

  The American way, yes?

  Love, Alex.

  She’d told me that she loved me, so that was to what I clung to keep me from overreacting. I hated that he’d been part of her life for so long when it should have been me, but I’d been a coward. I hadn’t told her how I felt, and now she was embroiled in this mess and something didn’t wasn’t right. Alex Giroux had certainly gone through a lot of trouble to make sure that Addison’s part in his life was secret, and now Simon was very interested in seeing her. It just didn’t add up in my opinion.

  “You have a funny look on your face.”

  I looked at her. She seemed worried, so I went with honesty. “I didn’t like your boyfriend’s note.”

  “Oh.” Her face paled and her voice was quiet when she said, “I’m sorry. I forgot about the inscription.”

  “It’s not your fault. I just don’t like the idea of him with you.” I flipped through the first couple pages of the notebook. It was an accounting ledger, listed by date, with an accounting code of some kind, and amounts. “What is this?”

  “Transaction codes. Alex stole it from Simon’s accountant. You see, the real reason why he wants to see me isn’t because of the money from the storage unit or the other stashes that we have, or because I’m the manager of Alex’s estate. It’s this notebook, or rather what’s in it.”

  I didn’t say anything as she explained.

  “He wants that book, because it’s proof of illegal activity of Giroux Enterprises in the United States. Slave labor, sex slaves, drug trafficking, blackmail, payoffs… Simon does a little bit of everything. All that needs to be done is to match it to the payees and boom, there’s a case on Simon Giroux that is provable and substantial.”

  This book… I flipped a few more pages, and then closed it, setting it down beside me. “Come here, beautiful.” I was so damn impressed and scared for Addison at the same time. She’d done some risky things, but she’d managed something that the alphabet agencies hadn’t. She’d gotten close.

  She complied easily, stepping between my legs. I wrapped my arms around her waist and laid gentle kisses on her abdomen. Then I raised her shirt just enough so I could lay those kisses directly on her smooth skin.

  “You don’t hate me?”

  “No. I love you.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t worry. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Don’t worry?” Her voice hitched a little near the end. “I’m scared shitless. I was just shot at, nearly killed…”

  She started to pull away, but I grabbed both her wrists and held them at the small of her back with one hand. “Stay.” She blinked at me in surprise, but didn’t
move as I lifted her shirt with my free hand and kissed the soft skin of her belly.

  I knew she was scared, way before she had admitted it. Simon Giroux wasn’t someone to mess around with. The Collective was just as ruthless. I ached to send her back to her civilian life, where she didn’t need to worry about crime lords and secret inheritances, and dead lovers. No one should have ever had to live through what she’d lived through so far. Even now, she favored her now nearly healed leg. That made me angry too. I was protective. At that very moment, if she’d managed to get a paper cut, I would have torn the world apart to get the person responsible for giving it to her.

  “Make me forget it.”

  “Forget what?” I gazed up at her. She didn’t move her wrists from inside my hand where I held her.

  She took a breath. “Make me forget I’m scared.”

  I stood up, releasing her hands. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist as I lowered us both to the mattress.

  “Make me forget what happened today, and what could happen tomorrow.”

  She met my eyes, full of love and certainty that I could make it all go away. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t make it vanish, but I could definitely distract her for a while.

  I brushed her blonde strands from her face and leaned in for a kiss. Touching her lips was electrifying. It was perfect.

  “Clothes. Off.” Her demand was soft-spoken, but there was no mistaking the authoritative undertone. I smiled, complied while she did the same. When we made love this time, it was skin against skin, soft against hard, our bodies intertwined, neither of us knowing where one began and the other ended.

  Addison

  I sat on edge for a few days after telling Murphy about the notebook. I trusted him to keep this quiet for me, but Murphy had a strong sense of duty. What would outweigh the other? And if he told them… Would they take it from me? I told him that was my one way of guaranteeing my safety. It wasn’t perfect. Giroux wouldn’t kill me.

  I stared at the little leather-bound notebook. Such an innocuous thing it was, so plain and unobtrusive. And yet, it was there, driving fear deep into my soul. It was a reminder of what Alex and I had been, what we’d promised to each other. Sadly, I didn’t feel that way about Alex anymore. I was beginning to wonder if I ever had.

  A quick flip of the pages inside flooded my memories with thoughts of that last night. The surprise on Alex’s face, the fear on Devyn’s, and Rene’s ugly sneer when he’d tried to kill us. He had no idea what would have happened. Simon would have been furious to lose all that money.

  I shoved the notebook into my pillow case and stretched out on the bed. I wasn’t sure how long I laid there, because I fell asleep not long after my head hit the pillow. But when I woke up, it felt so much later.

  Alex had died weeks ago, and yet, he was continuing to fuck up my life. I’d made a lot of mistakes with this thing. And now the only thing that was protecting me was a stupid notebook.

  Water flooded my eyes, my vision blurring until the room was a swirl of color. I blinked and warm tears fell down my face. Where had those tears come from? These had just snuck up on me. What was wrong with me? I wiped my eyes dry and let out a shuddering breath. I needed some air. I wanted to wait until Murphy came back from the gym, but at this point it had been hours and I was going nuts.

  The drive-by shooting was one thing. I still was having trouble coming to terms with what happened. So were Chris and Murphy, who had decided I shouldn’t leave the facility… for my safety. I was really starting to hate that phrase.

  I cracked open the door, glancing into the hallway, carefully. I remembered seeing the galley, which was a much bigger facility than the little room in Aruguay when I came in. I followed the corridor down the hall until I started hearing men’s voices. I paused, listening to where it was coming from. I veered from my original direction, and wandered down a darkened hallway until the voices got much louder.

  It was some sort of common room, like the one in Aruguay, but nicer. And well-lit. I peeked my head around the door frame but I couldn’t see anyone yet.

  “Please, dude. You would totally bang Buffy.” Was that—It was Jesse’s voice.

  “What? That’s stupid. I’m all about Cordelia, baby.” That sounded like Dylan. What was he doing here? I hadn’t realized that any of Murphy’s team had come here. It was almost comforting, in a way.

  A third male voice joined in. “No way… It’s all about Faith, dude. She’s fucking hot.”

  I stifled a laugh. This was what guys talked about without girls around? My curiosity wound around my common sense, knowing I should have gone back to my room to wait. But I couldn’t help myself. I pushed the door the rest of the way open.

  ~*~*~

  I didn’t know what I expected. It wasn’t what I found. There were two couches in the room, facing each other, with a coffee table in between them. A big screen TV was directly to the side of the couches, but it wasn’t on. There was a plethora of alcohol on the table, ranging from vodka to beer.

  Four of the guys were on the couches, in various stages of undress, but luckily, all had pants on. It was Dylan, Gabe and Jesse, as I’d thought. And all of them stared at me as I walked in.

  “Hi.” I hooked my thumbs in my belt loops. “Am I interrupting something top secret?”

  “No, ma’am,” Dylan said, grinning wide. He was dark-haired, wide brown eyes. Like chocolate. “Have a seat. Drink with us.” He patted the seat between him and Gabe. Gabe smiled up at me, that drunken I’m-happy-about-everything smile. I stepped over him and sat down. Dylan glanced at me. “Beer, vodka, or tequila?”

  “Beer. Definitely beer. Right now.” They all chuckled at me, but he popped the top on one bottle and handed it to me. I took a delicious sip of the best beer I’d had—mostly because it was the only beer I’d had in months—and moaned.

  “That’s kinda hot.” Dylan grinned at me.

  “Shut up, Urban!” Jesse, who sat across from where I was, picked up the cap and flicked it at his friend. “Don’t be a creeper.”

  “I’m not a fucking creeper. Fuck off!” He picked up the cap and shot it back.

  “Aren’t you a little young?” I asked him. I had a good five years on the guy. I wasn’t sure he was even old enough to drink.

  He laughed. “Probably.” He didn’t seem to care. He lifted the beer to his lips and took a swig.

  The other guys jabbed at him for a variety of reasons, ranging from his newly named creeper status to baby-in-the-cradle jokes before letting it go. It reminded me of the way Chris would jab at Murphy when they were in high school. But Murphy was much more serious than Dylan Urban was. Dylan took it all in stride, sometimes joking on himself in the process.

  In the lull of conversation as the guys refilled their drinks, I asked, “I’m… uh, kinda surprised to see you guys here. I thought you would be in Aruguay still.” The guys exchanged glances filled with meaning. But I wasn’t part of the band of brothers, so I didn’t get the meaning behind it. “What?”

  “We… uh, had some meetings and had to be here.” Urban said.

  Jesse slapped his arm. “Dude.”

  “It’s fine.” Dylan rolled his eyes. He huffed, and took a drink of his beer, almost silently sulking.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s just pissed because he came back to see Cadence and she dumped his ass.” Gabe elbowed my side. “Urban’s got a crush on a spy.”

  “I do not!” Dylan objected. He leaned back, smiling big in that performing sort of way he had. “She asked me to come over, but man, I was too tired. She wears me out, yo.”

  Jesse laughed. “She totally turned you down, didn’t she?”

  “Shut up, Richter.” Dylan snapped. “I couldn’t give two shits about Cadence Long. She’s not my type.”

  “Yeah, right.” Jesse snickered. “If she has a vagina, she’s your type.”

  Dylan growled low, but didn’t say anything else. He chugged anot
her vodka shot and chased it with a beer. His body was tense, the anger wafting from him in waves. He must have actually liked this Cadence chick. Apparently, there was more there than Dylan wanted to talk about and I didn’t intend to bring up sore spots in his life. I decided the best course of action was to change the subject. “So, Cordelia over Buffy, huh?”

  They stared at me for a second, and then all of them burst out laughing. Jesse shook his head. “You heard that shit? Dumbass over there—” he pointed to Urban “—thinks Cordy’s got a better ass than Buffy.”

  “It’s all the cheerleader practices,” Dylan replied. They all stared at him. “What?” Cheerleading had been high school, but the statement still made me blush. His eyebrows lifted in realization and he grinned sheepishly. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Fucking moron.” Jesse poured vodka into a shot glass, and downed it in one gulp. He shook his head. I couldn’t remember how old he was, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t twenty-one either. I wondered if this was actually an above-board party, but it wasn’t my business.

  I’d done a lot of underage parties as a teen. Cheerleaders got invited to everything. It had been a long time since I’d been a cheerleader. Or since I’d been that girl. A year of secret plans had a way of aging a person beyond what they were. “What’s with the party here, anyway?”

  “We’re off duty,” Jesse replied. “They have another team on security tonight. This is kind of our rest and relaxation time, since most of us have been out of the country for a long time.”

  “So you guys do get time off?” I didn’t know why I thought different. No one could function being at work all the time.

  “Sure. We stay busy, but everyone needs to blow off a little steam every once in a while. We’ve been on call for months with this whole Giroux thing going on.” He stopped, and cleared his throat. “But you probably knew that, right?”

  “Yeah,” I lied. Before, I’d known they’d been on it for a few weeks before the infiltration of the Alex Giroux mansion. But I hadn’t realized—really realized—just how long they’d been on the trail of the Giroux family. If they’d been on this case for so long, and gathered all this information, but for some reason, a huge detail like me wasn’t there… Probably most of what I’d given them was new. They really were way behind the Giroux family. Knowing Simon, he probably had a file on each and every member of Lucky Thirteen.