True Sacrifice

by Amanda Mackey

  Because I had no cell, I gave the boys my home number so I could be contacted. I’d need to replace it later in the day. Viper had also promised to return my car from the hospital parking lot where it had been sitting since my abduction. I hoped it hadn’t been stolen or scratched in any way. My baby.

  Now that Harley wasn’t responsible for my safety any longer, I didn’t need to move out. I could stay in the apartment as long as I wanted. Looking for somewhere else to live didn’t carry the same enthusiasm it had before. Everything I owned was here.

  I called the hospital and they agreed to give me a week off. Turning up looking like a victim of domestic violence would not be taken well by my patients. Grateful for the time to rest, I sent Char an email from my computer to give her an update before running a tub of steaming water and sinking into it.

  With nothing to do but think, my mind began a loop of images. The manic face, grinning at me and dirty fingers groping in places they shouldn’t. A gun trained at my back and head, the cold metal branding me with the threat of death.

  Up until now, it had all seemed like a horrible nightmare. With suffocating silence, the reality of it came tumbling down. I almost died. Harley had almost died. I’d been kidnapped from a busy hospital from under the noses of my colleagues. I’d been a part of some terrorist’s revenge plot.

  Foreign emotions surfaced, rapidly threatening to drown me in the shallow bath water. The past twenty-four hours could never be undone. The images would haunt me forever. My hands shook as I gripped my head and sobbed hard. My chest weighed two tons, my heart even more.

  The idea of being a hair’s breadth away from death strangled me. The final morsel of strength left me on a rushed wail, my limbs wilting in defeat. My face smarted with the battle my body waged. My eye was all but closed, and felt ten times puffier than it probably was.

  The bathroom carried my heaving voice around its four walls, bouncing it back to me like a boomerang. Alone. I felt so alone. I just needed to be held and soothed and told everything would be all right. To let go and have someone else be my strength for a change. I’d held it together pretty well in the dusty warehouse, but now I crumbled into tiny pieces.

  My own harsh sobs rang in my ears. The hot water failed to warm me as I shuddered. I felt so damn miserable, locked in a battle with my brain and my emotions.

  The solitude amplified everything. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them, resting my forehead on top.

  This happened to others. Not me. Not safe, reliable Mac. Somebody who was always there for others but never truly there for herself. My brain switched gears over and over, playing out what had happened and what could have happened. Every scent. Every sound. Every click of a gun and clack of a boot on floorboards. How could people turn so evil? I’d stared Satan directly in the face and been revolted by his manic enjoyment over my torment.

  Gagging, I laid my head on the back of the tub, attempting to refrain from vomiting. I breathed. In. Out. In. Out. Until the acid lowered back into my stomach from my throat. My chest ached from crying so much, but I couldn’t move. The cooling water held me captive, only mildly comforting. The small bathroom space offered a refuge as if the four walls might keep me safe.

  Not sure how long I stayed like that, purging my soul. I startled when someone pounded on the bathroom door. What the hell? How did someone get in my house? I’d locked the front door. Hadn’t I?

  “Mac. It’s me. Are you all right? Answer me, damn it!” A rich, thunderous voice.

  Harley? What was he doing here? Viper had agreed to return my car. I couldn’t let him see me like this. A mess. He’d already taken responsibility for putting me in harm’s way. To know I’d succumbed to its clutches would push him further away.

  Hearing the fear in his voice, I called out. “Yes. I’m okay. How did you get in?”

  “When you didn’t answer the front door, I got worried. I picked the lock.”

  Of course he did. “Give me a moment. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  He sounded worried. Did that mean he still cared? He’d told me as much but I just didn’t know anymore.

  Hearing him trudge down the hallway, I stood and let the water out of the tub, reaching for a towel and drying off.

  Attempting to pull myself together, I checked the mirror to find a monster looking back. The bruising had well and truly begun to set in and puffiness mixed with bloodshot eyes had transformed me into something from The Walking Dead. My shoulders drooped, wondering if that’s the real reason Harley had pushed me away. He couldn’t stand to look at me. In a way, that was true because it did remind him of his part in everything. I didn’t blame him though. How could I? Neither of us knew just what he’d been involved with and how it would come back to bite him.

  Taking a few deep breaths, not wanting to reveal my meltdown, I stepped out into the hallway, expecting him to be tucked away in the living room out of sight, waiting for me. With my head to the ground, I walked into his solid body, crashing my head against his chest. He barely moved as his arms came up to steady me.

  “Shit!” I let loose. “You scared me!”

  “Easy, angel.”

  Viper appeared in the hallway. “Everything okay?”

  Glancing from Harley back to Viper, I replied, “Yes. I’m fine. I was soaking in the tub. That’s why I didn’t hear you knocking.”

  Viper looked appeased but Harley was far from it. He stared at me. Unforgiving. Gripping my jaw on either side, he forced my head up. “What’s wrong? You’ve been crying.”

  I wanted to reply with, “What do you care?” but I held my tongue, fearful that I might start weeping again. My tears had barely dried. My dry throat hurt, causing me to swallow consecutively.

  He leaned down slightly at eye level, his scent wafting over me. I needed his arms around me in comfort but I daren’t ask. Not when he’d so boldly told me how he felt.

  All I could manage was, “What are you doing here, Harley?”

  “We brought your car back. Viper needed me to drive yours. It’s parked in the driveway.”

  “Thank you.” It came out dry and husky from my meltdown.

  For a moment he looked confused with what he should do next, but after a deep breath he enfolded me within the safety of his oversized arms.

  I couldn’t help it. I cried some more, unable to stop. I’d never wept so much, and after sobbing for ages in the tub, it surprised me I still had anything left in reserve.

  For whatever reason he let his guard down and held me, it didn’t matter. I took the moment for what it was, needing the comfort it brought. His solid frame acted as a barrier of protection, his generous arms, the locks to ensure my safety. I relished in the feel they brought, not caring if they were temporary.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  He knew. He damn well knew. I didn’t need to say a word. His lips rested on the side of my face as his tone soothed me, the whispered words vibrating against my skin.

  “I can’t stop crying.”

  “You’ve been through quite an ordeal. I’m not surprised. Just let it all out.” Calm Harley had returned. For how long, I didn’t know, but I held on, needing the support. His arms remained solid and safe, and I didn’t want to leave their confines. Ever. But after a moment, I could feel him tense up again as he took a step back.

  “You need anything?”

  As if flicking a switch, he returned to indifferent mode. Frustrated, knowing he thought he was doing it to protect me from himself, I shuffled away toward the kitchen.

  He didn’t follow immediately, but then after a beat or two I heard his boots heavy on the floor. When I reached the kitchen, I met Viper just stepping out. “Coffee? Tea? Scotch?” he asked with a slight smirk.

  Coughing out a laugh, I shook my head. “No. Thank you. I’m good now.”

  He shot a heated look to Harley. “One of us is staying here tonight. You gonna volunteer?”

  Butting in, I cried out, “No
! It’s okay. I had a meltdown, that’s all. I’m fine now, really.”

  He shook his head. “Not happening, darlin’.”

  I swung to Harley to see what his answer would be. He stood rigid, arms tight into his body.

  “Fine,” he ground out, not looking at me.

  “That’s settled then. I’m heading home. I’ll call around tomorrow to pick up douche over there.”

  Glancing at his watch, he added, “You still got that cell I gave you, Dec?” He jerked his head in the direction of his friend, who gave a curt nod. With that he walked to me, gave me a brief hug, and whispered, “Call me if he gets too much.” Then he left, leaving me perplexed with his organization of everything. Why had he volunteered Harley to watch over me when he needed as much if not more monitoring? Ugh. My brain couldn’t analyze another damn thing.

  When the door shut he said, “You should go rest. Catch up on some sleep.”

  I didn’t want to rest. As exhausted as I felt, I knew sleep wouldn’t come easily.

  “No. I’m going to try and eat something. I haven’t had anything for what feels like days.” The idea of food had my stomach lurch, but I needed sustenance of some kind to give me some energy.

  “Go in the living room. I’ll get you something,” he barked as if I were one of his soldiers.

  Surprised he offered when, judging by the look of him he could drop at any moment, I simply stood and left the kitchen, a numbness blanketing me.

  I listened as cupboards opened and shut, cutlery clanged, and water ran. He knew his way around my kitchen and had proven to me he was quite capable. Easing back into the chair, I let him fuss. He’d been put on the spot by his friend and now had to stay here under duress. I needed to give him credit for keeping himself in check to babysit me.

  Striding out and placing a plate with a veggie sandwich down, he rubbed the top of his head and looked at the ground as if he didn’t know what to do next.

  “Thank you. You can sit, you know. I won’t bite.”

  Opting for the chair beside the sofa, he kept his distance, maybe not trusting himself. The air was thick with unsaid things. I’d never been uncomfortable around him before and I didn’t like it now.

  Grabbing the remote, I flicked the television on to make some noise. Switching channels, I settled on a cooking show and we both sat quietly, me not really watching it. Harley seemed to stare through it.

  When I felt myself nodding off a while later, I rose, hating how much silence had passed between us. Harley looked to me with bleary eyes as if he fought sleep himself. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him. Why could we not comfort each other? We were each fighting our own demons. It would be better to fight them together.

  As tired as I was, my sleep would be fraught with the threat of nightmares. Not wanting to be on my own, I said, “I’m going to lie down. I don’t think I want to be alone. Please? Stay in my room. At least if I know you’re there it might prevent another meltdown.”

  Closing his eyes briefly and breathing heavily out his nose, he opened them while scrubbing a hand over his face. He appeared torn. “I shouldn’t.”

  “It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just want company.”

  “I thought you said you were fine.” He took a step toward me, eyes narrowing.

  “I am…I mean…I probably would be…but…” Quite honestly, I knew I was far from fine. What a pair we were. It seemed we both suffered from PTSD.

  In a split second he stood, had me by the wrist and dragged me down the hallway to the bedroom. Throwing the door open and kicking it shut with his foot, he drew the curtains and walked to the bed, pulling the covers down.

  He began taking his clothes off.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, panicked.

  “Getting ready for bed.”

  “In the nude?”

  Throwing his jeans, boots, and shirt on the chair in the corner, he hinted at a smile. The first one I’d seen in a while. “I normally sleep in boxers. You okay with that?”

  Nodding, words failed me as I took in his fine form. I couldn’t help but ogle. Even relaxed, his muscles bulged. Blinking a couple of times, I fought off my stupor as he climbed into bed. I walked to the closet and changed into a tank and long pajama bottoms before switching the light off and lying down on the very edge of the bed on my side, keeping plenty of distance between us. I felt the heat rolling off him and his manly smell, which I inhaled softly so he couldn’t hear me. With my eyes open, I lay still listening to him breathing beside me, knowing full well that I’d still be in the same position when naptime ended.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harley

  Sinking to the ground as gracefully as possible, considering we were all loaded up with armory and weapons, we disengaged our chutes and assembled together. Ammunition hung like expensive, cumbersome jewelry around our necks. We needed to carry it the four miles to reach our destination.

  Our peace-keeping mission not only entailed rescuing the innocent, it also involved hostile means of eliminating the enemy.

  We had the element of surprise at 3 a.m., shrouded in darkness, our heat-seeking goggles our guides.

  We’d aborted radio contact with our base upon touching down in the desert, knowing our intent.

  As the commanding officer of the mission, my team trusted me implicitly to give them direction. Some of the men had served on other tours, some not. Either way, they all had my back and I had, theirs. We were a solid unit.

  Viper signaled to me that there were no immediate threats and we could proceed. He was always my eyes and ears and had the uncanny ability to hear and see things I couldn’t. He’d saved my ass many times with his sharp instincts. I owed him everything.

  The trek through the unforgiving terrain of Afghanistan proved difficult in the cloak of night. We moved quietly and cautiously, the dusty wasteland coating our nostrils with minute particles of its landscape. A souvenir sometimes even a long, hot shower failed to eradicate.

  Nothing stirred. No sign of life, and why should there be in the middle of Goddam nowhere? I couldn’t afford the luxury of thinking about home. My wife and life, separate from my job. I needed my head present and focused no matter how hard switching off could be.

  We trudged for another hour, stopping only once to rehydrate. Nearing a rocky outcrop, I knew we were close. Over the other side sat a small village overrun by savage militants we needed to weed out.

  Regrouping, we took pause before rounding the bend. My pack of five soldiers, through our coded sign language, would fan out into formation so we could approach the small establishment from all angles.

  I waited while they moved away from me, leaving me somewhat vulnerable, but knowing we were ghosts in the night and virtually undetectable.

  A hot breeze swept across the barren expanse as I took my first step forward, ready to shoot anyone who tried to attack.

  Standing behind a boulder, I moved to where I could see the tiny settlement lit only by the half moon and a lamp which glowed through a curtain-less window. Homes constructed of the earth with which they sat became larger as I closed the distance, crouched in a defensive pose, rifle sighted at the shack emitting the soft glow.

  My men had their own agenda. Keep me safe while moving in to the target: The only lit house in the town. Satellite navigation had pinpointed our location. A ramshackle third-world structure housing three of the enemy who had slain at least six children and as many women in the last forty-eight hours. In a village of only around seventy-five inhabitants, the percentage was huge.

  It appeared they were up burning the midnight oil, or perhaps the light acted as a deterrent and the occupants were all sound asleep. It didn’t matter. We were going in.

  I reached the house first and waited for my men. Viper appeared first and flanked me while the other four motioned to me they’d surround the place. Regardless of how many times I’d forced my way into the center of danger, the adrenalin never waned. It flooded my vital organs, letti
ng me know I stood at the very precipice of life and possible death.

  On our typical count of four Viper and I barged in, immediately seeing heat on our night goggles. Two people were in one room with the third in another. We didn’t waste time, barreling toward the duo, fingers ready to fire.

  Caught unaware, both men stood but didn’t reach for any weapons, knowing they’d be dead before they got close. Raising both their hands, a moment of vulnerability flashed over their faces before their egos closed off any more emotion.

  We’d been ordered to kill, but Viper and I liked to draw it out some. Let our targets know death had chosen them. The lives they’d taken mattered to us, and therefore in their honor we played with our prey. We motioned both men to move so that should the other person rise and enter the fray, we’d have him in our sights too. So far, little had been said apart from, “Don’t move! Don’t move! Get up!” It all happened in seconds. The men probably didn’t understand a word we said, but with the motioning of our weapons and the tone of our voices, it proved easy for them to translate our orders.

  Viper nodded to me and motioned with his head in their direction. I knew precisely what he meant. We inched closer to the bearded men, who screamed something out in their native tongue. Holding our weapons with one hand we both reached into our holsters and pulled out hand guns, aiming them before dropping our rifles. What we had planned would require closer attention and the rifles were just too cumbersome. My neck ached from the heavy artillery and gear hung over me, but I welcomed the pain. It spurred me on.

  “Shut up!” roared Viper.

  Movement behind the men brought forth the other occupant, who stupidly raised his gun in our direction behind his cohorts. Before Viper or I fired, the guy dropped to the ground, one of my men appearing in the room. Snake—aka Chris Walker—stepped over the dead man and switched his aim between each of our targets. We called him snake because of his ability to slither in quietly to awkward situations and take out threats to myself or my team.