Wounded Courage (Lucky Thirteen)

by S. M. Butler

  I wanted to spend the next three days in bed, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Sleep well?”

  I nodded, but I really didn’t have the conscious effort available to reply. He chuckled at my expense.

  “How’s your leg?”

  “Stiff, but not too bad.”

  He strapped a small gun to his calf and pulled his pant leg down over it. “Get dressed. We’ll hit the dining car.”

  I watched as he shrugged a button up shirt on over his shoulders, sad when it covered up his wonderful body. And then he strapped on a shoulder holster, complete with gun, which sent shivers through me, reminding me of our precarious situation.

  He glanced at me, smiling. “Come here.”

  It only took a single step to reach him. I stepped into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his torso, and laid my head against his chest. His steady, strong heartbeat against my ear comforted me.

  “I missed holding you.”

  “Did you?” I laughed. “You could have joined me.”

  “Did you see how little these beds are? I’d have never lasted up there. You’d have kicked me off.” He kissed me and turned me away from him. “Now, dress. Let’s meet up with Chris and go eat.”

  I did as he told me to, and quickly changed into decent clothing. The walk to the dining car was quick. It was early, so there weren’t a lot of people out and about. And the steady rhythmic clack of the train beneath us was almost relaxing. I could have pretended we were on vacation and it would have felt real.

  But it wasn’t real and we were on track to dangerous territories.

  Chris was already sitting at a table in the dining car, so we joined him, with Murphy taking the seat facing the more trafficked entrance and Chris facing the other one. We ordered, and sat in quiet, uneasy silence while we ate.

  “You’re not saying much this morning.”

  I looked up from my plate, Murphy’s eyes branding me with the heat within them. If I ever doubted that he wanted me, I was an idiot. Even sitting there, he allowed me that one window into his soul. His face was impassive, but his brilliant eyes… they said everything he couldn’t.

  “I don’t really have anything to say,” I replied. Only because I was completely consumed with thoughts of fear. We were going to meet one of the most dangerous men in the world, and I had to pretend that I wasn’t a complete wuss and actually had the stones to do what I needed to do.

  “There’s a first.” Chris chuckled.

  “Hey!” I swatted his shoulder. “Jerk.”

  He just chuckled again.

  The thing was… there was something else in the back of my mind. Something about Alex’s death, about Rene dying, about how convenient it all was. I hadn’t really considered any of it in the last few months because I was completely consumed in my situation with Murphy and being held by the US government.

  But being away, being a fugitive, it gave me a little more perspective, and some additional time to think about things other than my own survival. My leg was almost fully healed now, just mainly stiff from the new muscle tissue forming there. My mind had started going to other places, considering other things.

  “How are you doing with all this?”

  I glanced around at the sound of Murphy’s question and bit my lower lip. “I’m okay.”

  I nearly cursed when that came out of my mouth.

  “I see.” His voice gave nothing away. “This will be over soon.”

  I shook my head. “No, it won’t. Simon is not a one-trick pony. He’s not stupid. He’s cunning, and he wouldn’t have wanted to meet me if he didn’t think that he had the advantage over me.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His promise scored my heart, burning its way deeper into the depths of my soul. He couldn’t know how important that promise was to me, and how much it hurt at the same time. Because if Murphy got hurt or died because of me, I’d never recover. I’d let him get too close to me. I’d let myself get to close to him.

  But I didn’t get to answer him, not that I had anything I could say. As soon as I opened my mouth, the back of the dining car in front of me opened. The man that came through was a few years older than Alex, but had matching cheekbones and the same dark eyes. Of all the people I’d thought would show up to collect me, I’d never considered it being this one.

  Murphy must have seen my face change because his face hardened. “Who is it?” He didn’t turn.

  “Jean Giroux.” Chris said it before I did.

  The man hadn’t seen me yet. He was scanning the car, each dining passenger one by one. Behind him, his bodyguards trailed, their large bodies filling the space between the tables easily.

  “You didn’t know they’d send him, did you?” The low whisper was accompanied by a quick, easy squeeze of my hand. I didn’t move. I felt cold all over.

  “No.” My voice came out in a soft croak.

  “Okay, just relax. We’ll get through this.”

  Of Alex’s two brothers, Jean was the scariest. He was the oldest, the one Simon was grooming to take over the family business. His dark eyes landed on me, freezing me over. He smoothed his suit, and a malevolent grin appeared on his face. He strode over, not even flinching when he saw Murphy’s face.

  “Hello, Addison.” The deep French accent purred from his lips, but it only sent shivers down my spine. “It’s good to see you again.” I didn’t reply. He gestured to the empty chair at our table. “May I join you?”

  “Well, I can’t really say no when you flaunt your muscle, now can I, Jean?” The whole sentence came out sounding braver than I felt.

  He chuckled as he pulled the chair to the table and seated himself. “On the contrary. You absolutely could, however, it could be construed as an act of aggression. And you know those do not turn out well, don’t you, kitten?”

  I ground my teeth at the nickname he’d given me. It stemmed from a joke he’d made once, about me being quiet until I was ready to pounce, but I couldn’t actually do any harm. I hated it then, and I hated it now.

  His bodyguards took up position around each exit, sitting down at the nearest table to the exits. The move wasn’t lost on Murphy and Chris, who remained silent, but his eyes scanned every inch of the room.

  “Who is the new guy, Addison?”Jean turned his attention to Murphy, raking his eyes over my personal SEAL in obvious disgust. “I didn’t take you for a jock sort of woman.” He smiled at Chris. “Good to see you, Hardy.”

  Chris didn’t reply, but I noticed how tense both of them had become.

  I cleared my throat. “Why are you here, Jean?”

  “You have something my father wants. I’m here to take you to him.”

  “But anyone could have picked me up,” I said.

  “True, but I thought you might be comforted by a friendly face.”

  “How fucking sweet.” Friendly face, my ass. Jean wasn’t a bad looking man, but there was a quality in his face that made me want to hide under the table when he was nearby. That, and I’d seen enough of Jean to scare me shitless.

  “You still have the language of a crude sailor.”

  “And you’re still an asshole.”

  I glanced at Murphy, who had remained completely silent for the moment. I’d expected him to be more active, but he seemed content to let me fight with Jean. His blue eyes were dark inside, so deep I could have fallen into them.

  Jean chuckled and folded his hands together as he leaned on the table. “Oh, Addison, I do enjoy your wit.” He glanced out the window of the train car and then back to me. “We have several hours before this train stops at the next destination. I would suggest that you retire to your compartment, and rest.”

  Translation: Go to your room and think about what you’ve done.

  I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my food. “I just woke up. I haven’t had my coffee, and I’m eating.”

  “Why do you have to be such an obnoxious girl?”

  “Do you really want me to respond to th
at?” I should have kept my mouth shut. I was dealing with a killer, and I was taunting him. But for some reason, my mouth had become my defense mechanism. Luckily, he didn’t rise to the bait.

  “All right. Finish your meal, kitten. We have nothing but time.” He leaned back in the chair, and crossed his arms over his chest in smug indignation.

  “Tell me,” Murphy spoke for the first time, evenly, calmly. “What’s the plan when we get in station?”

  Jean’s lips quirked upward on one side. “We go to see my father, of course.”

  “In one piece?”

  Jean chuckled. “Of course. I have no desire to kill any of you.”

  “Yeah, right,” I muttered.

  “My brother made sure of that, my little kitten, didn’t he?”

  Murphy looked at me, and I couldn’t tell what exactly was going through his head. I cleared my throat. “I suppose he did.” I took a small satisfaction of seeing the smugness slip from Jean’s face for just that moment before he gained control again.

  “Of course, this does not apply to your brother or your friend here.”

  I leaned forward, feeling brave. “That is true. I would suggest that we keep this civil instead of trying to engage threats, Jean.”

  Jean nodded. “Of course, kitten. I told you. I have no desire to kill any of you.”

  Not now, anyway. I had considered the fact that Jean wouldn’t be bound by legalities to keep Murphy or Chris alive. But I was banking on him following his father’s orders, because Simon knew as well as I did, if he killed a member of Thirteen, he’d have hell on his hands. Every single team member would be out for blood, as they had been for Brody when he was captured. And no one wanted angry SEALs on their hands. Not even Simon Giroux.

  Jean grinned wider. “Now, eat up, kitten. We’ll be getting off at the next stop and we still have to get your bags.”

  ~*~*~

  Murphy

  From the dining car, Jean and his men walked us back to our compartments. The gun against my chest was warm, and calling for me to use it, but it wasn’t the right moment yet. If I did, Addison would be the one hurt.

  I kept her by my side, between Hardy and me, so she would be as safe as possible. And I noticed when as we passed into the car, Jean’s men locked the door. The ones ahead of us did the same thing with the other end of the car.

  We stopped in front of our sleeper compartments. Jean grinned, and brushed my leather jacket open, revealing the gun I had there. “Convenient that this is here.”

  “Jean, don’t.” Addison said.

  “Don’t worry, kitten. You know I wouldn’t hurt my favorite little pet.” He stepped back without turning. “But I also don’t need to keep track of three of you.”

  “No!” Addison shook her head and started toward Jean. I grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back against me, holding tight as she struggled. He pointed the gun at us. “We have five minutes before we get in station. And I have a decision to make.” He looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. Someone grabbed Addison from me. “There. Decision made.”

  In a split second, he turned his gun toward Chris and the loud crack through the air, followed by Addison’s agonized scream punched a hole into my lungs. I lost my breath. Chris crumbled to the floor immediately. Blood began to pool beneath him.

  “Chris!” Addison screamed. She glared at Jean. “You fucking bastard! He wasn’t doing anything!”

  “Like I said, I don’t need three of you to babysit. Really, I don’t even need two. So, don’t press your luck, kitten.”

  She tried to wrench herself loose from the guy who held her, but he kept a tight hold on her. Jean pointed my gun at my head. “Would you be so kind as to move him into his compartment?”

  I stepped carefully over to Chris. Slowly, I lifted him by under his arms, and pulled him into the compartment.

  Chris was conscious still, but in obvious pain. He looked up at me with clouded eyes. “Take care of her.”

  “I will.”

  “Think of her.”

  “I think of nothing else,” I told him.

  Chris leaned toward me, gripping my shirt with a bloody hand. “You promise me she stays safe. You stick to her. She never leaves your sight.”

  “You have my word.”

  Chris groaned and dropped back to the floor. He gave me a short nod.

  “How fucking sweet,” Jean said. “Come, lover boy. Time to go.”

  I could hear the train’s brakes beyond our car. We were coming into station. I looked down, at Chris’s bloody hands. I couldn’t do anything for him. Not now. I covered his hand with mine, and squeezed his wrist with the watch on it until I saw the countdown start.

  I stood up, feeling sick. I had Chris’s handprint on my shirt, his blood on my hands. His expression was hazy as he nodded. “Go.”

  I stepped out of the compartment and one of the men shut the door, cutting me off from my best friend. Addison was hysterical, screaming and sobbing for her brother. I came back over to her, taking her from the man that held her. She buried herself in my chest, her entire body convulsing in pain and fear.

  “Shall we?” Jean asked. He pocketed my gun inside his jacket. “Bring their bags.”

  I kept Addison close to me. She wasn’t in any kind of sane form. She reminded me of the day we were shot at, when we’d gone to the first storage unit. Her sobs hiccuped into silence and she didn’t move away from the way she held me.

  Addison

  It took everything I had to walk away from my brother, dying alone in a train compartment. I didn’t know how Murphy was able to do it. I was a wreck, completely unable to separate what I had to do with what had just happened.

  My brother was dying. And he was on his own.

  We were put into a limousine, with Jean across from us. As we left the small station behind, and the road turned into countryside, Jean shook his head. “And now you know how it feels to lose a brother.”

  I turned my head toward him, feeling the intense rage within me, churning, so hard and out of control. “There was no reason to shoot him. I was doing what you asked of me.”

  “That’s very true. There was no real reason, other than he was important to you, and I wanted you to know what losing a brother feels like. And because of you, I’ve lost two.”

  Murphy pulled me back toward him, and I let him, sitting back against the seat near him. His hands were stained with dried blood, his shirt too from where Chris had grabbed it. I would never forget the look on Chris’s face, or the sheer glee on Jean’s.

  A lifetime later, the car we were in stopped at the lush iron gates of the Giroux complex. And a complex it was. Simon Giroux was too rich to stop with one building on the premises. And since he ran most of his operations from this place, he needed the space.

  Stretched out before us were a series of buildings. The center building was massive, four floors high, windows overlooking the courtyard, and several balconies. And on each balcony was a man, armed to the teeth.

  On either side of the center building there were two more buildings in almost a circular arrangement, like those buildings were guarding the one in the center. They matched the one in the center, except they were slightly higher. Almost like watch towers, except for rich people.

  The car continued on from the gates once they opened. The gravel road made the ride less than smooth all the way up to the main building. The drive curled around in a circle, and we stopped in front of the house.

  Jean got out first, walking to the guard at the front door. I glanced at Murphy. “You’ve been quiet.” Silent was more like it. He hadn’t said much of anything since the train. Not that we’d been alone since then.

  “Just watching,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  “I can’t… stop… I see him, Murphy.”

  He looked like he wanted to respond, but Jean leaned into the open door before he could. “Come along. We’ll wait for my father in the study.”

  Murphy got out first,
and held his hand out to me. I took it, and he helped me out of the car. The house seemed so much more massive this close, and ten times more intimidating. The bravery I’d felt earlier on the train, and even in the car, melted away into the abyss, and left me cold.

  Murphy took my hand in his, squeezing mine tightly as he led me toward the door, and into the lion’s den.

  If the outside was luxurious, then the inside of the house was decadent. High vaulted ceilings, adorned with intricate moldings covered the room. The walls were covered in tapestries I guessed were probably worth more than my mom’s house. Nothing had changed since the first time I had stepped through those doors, nothing except me.

  Our footsteps echoed through the space, increasing my anxiety a little at a time with every footstep we made. I wanted to be brave, I wanted to be strong. And with Murphy’s hand in mine, I siphoned his strength as much as I could.

  Jean lead us into the study, the same room I remembered meeting Simon Giroux before. He whispered to the guard by the door, who left almost immediately. Then he walked to the other door, the one that led into Simon’s office.

  He was gone only for a minute before he returned, this time with an older man, with salt and pepper hair, and a long scar from his temple to his jaw on his right side.

  “Simon.” I broke the silence first, because I just couldn’t take it anymore. His men didn’t talk to each other, Jean wasn’t a huge talker, and I was about to go insane.

  “Addison Hardy. How are you, love?” He sat down on the nearby armchair, and relit his cigar.

  “I’ve been better.”

  “You know I value my privacy, so I must apologize for the manner in which you were brought here. You know that Rene was very important to Jean. He took his death rather hard.” His gaze rested on Murphy beside me. “And I see you brought military to my house.”

  “He’s here for me, Simon. Of all people, you must understand the need for protection.”

  “I would not hurt you. Surely you know that, Addison.” Simon shrugged. “I could not deny my son the right to avenge his brother’s death, even if I disagreed with what his brother did.”