Nobody's Hero

by Kallypso Masters

  Good girl.

  Before Adam could reach her, Damián grabbed Karla and pulled her away from Julio. Her scream of frustration indicated she wasn’t quite finished with him yet, but once Karla was safely out of harm’s way, Adam took the dickwad the rest of the way to the floor and grabbed his throat, choking the life out of him.

  “No, Adam! Don’t kill him!”

  Why not? He could have killed you. But Adam realized the man was no longer a threat. He blubbered like a baby, his arm laying at a grotesque angle. Karla definitely had broken it somewhere. Not taking any chance on him hurting her he pressed on Julio’s carotid artery until he cut off the oxygen to his brain. Julio’s body relaxed as he passed out.

  Adam looked up to find Karla gasping for breath, Damián’s arm around her waist to keep her from going at Julio again—or maybe she wanted to go after Adam to keep him from killing the jerk. Damn, that woman could fight. He left the trash on the floor and turned to Karla who broke free from Damián and ran into Adam's arms. He felt her body trembling as she wrapped her arms around him.

  The wail of sirens sounded in the distance. He hoped they weren’t up on the 5, which paralleled the neighborhood, but actually headed here.

  “Oh, God. I can’t believe it really worked!”

  He chuckled. “Yes, tiger. You did well.”

  “I froze. I think I was waiting for you or Damián to rescue me. Then you raised your hands and I knew what I had to do.”

  “You did everything you needed to do. Didn’t even need us. You’ll be able to take care of yourself any time.”

  For the first time, Adam noticed Damián standing over Julio, his pistol pointed at the dickwad’s head.

  Fuck. “Stand down, son. He’s not worth it. Your family needs you to not be stuck in prison right now. Let the police take care of him.”

  Damián stared down at the unconscious man with a cold, calculating look in his eyes. Adam understood his wanting to finish him off. Hell, he’d come close to strangling him a few minutes ago himself for threatening Karla. For what he’d done to Teresa, and now the attack on Karla, Julio wouldn’t be getting out of prison anytime soon. “Damián, go meet the police and let them know they're clear to come inside.”

  Damián didn’t move for several moments, then seemed to come to a decision and took a step away, holstering his Magnum behind his back. Adam closed his eyes in relief. He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to get through to him, not after what Julio had done.

  Suddenly, Damián hauled off and kicked Julio right in the nuts. Julio grunted, but remained unconscious. Adam grinned. The dickwad would wonder for a quite a while why his balls and dick were so sore. Served him right; deserved a lot worse.

  Damián led two police officers into the utility room and they had the now conscious Julio on his stomach with his hands cuffed behind his back in no time. The pain in the jerk’s broken arm or elbow had him screaming like a baby as they manhandled him. Good. He needed to feel more pain, after all that he’d caused others. They lifted him up to the sound of more howls and dragged him out the door.

  Adam watched Damián grow tense when he looked toward the doorway again. On alert, in case Julio had somehow gotten loose, which seemed unlikely, Adam’s gaze followed. A sobbing Teresa ran in with a petite brunette behind her. Seeing Damián, Teresa ran across the room and into his arms.

  “Uncle Damo, I was so afraid he’d hurt you or Karla.”

  Adam felt the unknown woman’s scrutiny on first Karla then him Damián. She furrowed her brow as if she disapproved. What the fuck? But his attention went back to Teresa. “Hon, you did well. Proud of you.”

  Teresa looked over at Adam and gave a quivering smile. “After I called the police, I chickened out and called my counselor to come over, too.”

  Ah, the stranger. The brunette stepped forward and extended her hand, and seemed confused that Karla was pressed up against him. She looked from Karla to Damián and back again, then offered her hand to Adam. “I’m Savi Baker.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ms. Baker. Thanks for coming over for Teresa.”

  Three more officers came in and insisting on separating Damián, Adam, and Karlafor questioning. He didn't want to leave Karla, but had no choice.

  Adam cleared his throat and looked at the counselor. "Ms. Baker, why don't you and Teresa wait outside?"

  "Oh! Of course. Teresa, let's go find some place to talk and process some of this, sweetheart."

  They left and the officers split up, taking Karla into the living room, Adam into the kitchen, and Damián remained in the utility room.

  After they'd given their accounts to the officers, Adam went in search of her. He found her curled up on the sofa, shivering. Adrenaline drop. He walked over to her and quickly scooped her up. "I’ve got you, baby.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder, her entire body trembling. He held her tighter against him and pulled an afghan over her.

  “Don’t let me go, Adam.”

  Adam wished he could hold her forever, but would settle for this moment and as long as she’d put up with him. Seeing that sharp blade pressed against her thin, fragile neck nearly gutted him. Thank God she hadn’t been cut or hurt in the scuffle.

  "I'm better now. You can put me down." He looked down at Karla, seeing a flush on her cheeks.

  “No, kitten. I need to have you in my arms right now.” He pulled her closer and she relaxed against him.

  * * *

  Karla’s face grew hot from the embarrassment of being coddled like a child, but had to admit she really didn’t want Adam to put her down. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand yet, anyway. The feel of the steel blade against her throat was singed into her body’s memory and her chest felt sore from how hard her heart had been pounding against it.

  Everything had happened so quickly—and yet time had stood still. It took forever for her to even remember her training and how to respond to the attack. One minute, she and Teresa were laughing about a music video and the next she was being threatened with a knife.

  “Thank God they have him. He can’t hurt her anymore.”

  She burrowed like a lost kitten into the afghan and snuggled against his chest.

  “You were incredibly brave, little tiger.”

  “I was scared to death.”

  “But you kept a clear head and dealt with the dicl—bastard—despite your fear. That’s what a hero does.”

  “Oh, Adam, I’m not a hero.”

  “Nonsense.” His arms tightened around her. “No one was hurt or killed except the attacker, who has been neutralized for the foreseeable future, thanks to you. Definitely a hero in my book.”

  Karla remembered the tattoo on his back and began to realize why, by his definition, he could never be considered a hero. She played her hand over his pec and felt his heart beating against it. “Sometimes a hero can’t save everyone, but it doesn’t stop him from trying and from saving as many as he can.”

  He held his breath. Oh, Adam. You’ll always be a hero to me. “Thanks for helping me remember what to do in there.”

  With a grunt, he laid his chin on her head. If he thought she was going to shut her up, he had another think coming. “I don’t think I’d have remembered what to do otherwise.”

  “Nonsense. Your training would have kicked in.”

  “But when? I was supposed to execute that move within seconds. I froze.”

  “You got the job done, tiger. Quit beating yourself up over it.”

  “Like you beat yourself up over Afghanistan?” He pulled back as if she were about to explode in his hands. Well, for once you’re thinking with your big head. “Marc told me you saved a lot of men in that ambush.”

  “Marc needs to keep his mouth shut.”

  “Why can’t you admit you’re a hero? You did well. Instead, you’re always saying things like, ‘I did what anyone would have done.’” She pulled away from the comfort of his chest and stared him in the eyes. “But not everyone would have gone into an a
mbush to save his troops. Not everyone would have gotten involved in an altercation in a bus station to save a stupid teenager who didn’t have the sense God gave a goose. And not everyone would entice a mountain lion to chase after him to save someone else.” She poked her index finger in his chest. “You’re a hero, Adam, whether you choose to accept the title or not.”

  * * *

  The image of his father lying in a pool of blood flashed before his eyes. The walls were closing in on him. His hands became cold, despite the blanket over them. If this conversation didn’t take a new direction soon, he’d need to get out of here.

  “We’ve been over this before. I’m not going to talk about this now.”

  Her hand reached out of the blanket and up to his cheek, warm and comforting, but he pulled away. “You don’t know the half of what I’ve done, the people I’ve gotten hurt…or killed.”

  “You’d never hurt anyone intentionally. You’re a guardian. A protector. You take care of those you love.”

  Okay, now it just got worse. “I don’t have what it takes to love anyone, either. The sooner you get that into your head, the better off we’ll both be.”

  Karla’s hand that had been pressed against his cheek drew into a fist. At first, he thought she was going to deck him, then she drew it back under the blanket in a protective move.

  “I never promised you anything more.”

  Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, making her voice raspy. “I know.”

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about. Except maybe when we’re heading back to Denver.”

  At least, she still wanted to be with him.

  “I’d like to get back on stage. I’ve missed performing.”

  Okay, maybe she wasn’t interested in being there with him. What did she expect? Friends with benefits and Dom/sub was all he’d ever offered.

  “I never lied to you.”

  “No. I just saw something in you that you obviously can’t see.”

  What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

  She pushed the blanket off herself. “I’m going to go check on Teresa.”

  She scooted off his lap and handed him the blanket, which he laid over the armrest. He watched her walk out and sat for a long time, just staring at the doorway. Why had she gotten so hung up on hero talk? Then he realized he’d been the one who initiated the topic.

  Immediately, he missed having his arms around her, but if she couldn’t take him the way he was and kept conjuring up this fantasy hero, then it probably was for the best that there was some distance between them.

  No way was he ever going to let himself fall in love with her. Love just led to pain. Hurt.

  Not much fucking different than what he felt right now.

  * * *

  Damián motioned Teresa and her counselor into the kitchen after he’d finished with the police.

  “Savan…Savi, can I get you something to drink?”

  A haunted expression came over her face. What? Did she think he didn’t remember her?

  “We’ve got water, tea, Kool-Aid.”

  Teresa punched his arm and giggled. “Uncle Damo, I don’t think she’s gonna drink Kool-Aid.” It was good to see his niece bounce back so fast after what had just happened in the utility room.

  “What’s wrong with Kool-Aid? It’s grape—José’s and my favorite.”

  Teresa just rolled her eyes. “Ms. Savi, can I get you something more grown-up, like a Coke?”

  “I’m fine. I need to be getting back home. I left Mari with a friend, but it’s homework time.” Her expression grew serious as she homed in on Teresa. “I want you to take some time to journal about what happened tonight, sweetie. Don’t forget the three positives every today. We’ll talk more during our next session. As always, though, feel free to call me if you need me. Any time.”

  Teresa crossed the room and gave Savi a hug. Damián couldn’t help but feel jealous that he couldn’t do the same.

  He cleared his throat. “Thanks for everything, Savi. I’m glad you could be here for Teresa tonight.”

  She glanced at him, then down at the floor. “Not a problem.”

  Karla came into the room, looking like she could spit nails. Well, the way she’d taken Julio down, he figured she probably could. “Leaving so soon, Ms. Baker?”

  “Please, it’s Savi. But, yes, I need to get back to my daughter.”

  She reached into her tight jeans and pulled out her keys. After assuring Teresa she could call her anytime, she left the room. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her ass, encased in those blue jeans like a second skin.

  Hell, he needed to see her out. “I need to go clean up that glass and board up the broken window.” He was just a couple yards away when she reached for the door handle. “How’ve you been, Savannah?”

  Her body grew stiff. Her fingers gripped the handle, but she didn’t turn around. “Don’t call me that. Savannah Gentry is dead.”

  Of all the things he’d fantasized about her saying to him—like ‘I’ve never forgotten you or our perfect day at the beach’—that sure as hell wasn’t one of them. Fr. Martine said she’d come to St. Miguel’s troubled. What the fuck had happened to her?

  “I tried to get in touch with you, after the beach.”

  She turned and looked at him. “You did?” The hopeful look in her eyes was soon replaced by a coldness that sent a chill up his spine.

  “Yeah. I left letters in your mailbox. Even staked out the hotel awhile.”

  She became fascinated by watching the toe of her sandal scuffing against the door jamb. Her pink toenails looked like she’d let her daughter paint them. She looked back at him. “Well, it’s good you didn’t find me.” Despite the passion in her voice, her eyes remained devoid of emotion. He’d never known anyone to be so closed off emotionally. How did she connect with her patients, if she was so disconnected from her own emotions?

  Well, maybe that was her coping mechanism. How could anyone listen to tragic stories like Teresa’s day in and day out and not close herself off emotionally? Probably kept her from getting burned out. He was glad she could compartmentalize her feelings that way, so she could help Teresa. But at what cost to herself?

  Suddenly, he had an urge to get some kind of response out of her. He closed the space between them and nearly backed off when she cringed against the door, her hand on the handle, ready to run.

  “You were the most perfect thing I ever held in my hands, little mariposa.”

  She closed her eyes. So there was some feeling inside. She did remember their day together. Knowing that made him feel better in some way. When she opened her eyes, there was a glimpse of feeling before she shut down again.

  “I’ve lived with the memory of our time in that cave every day since. But I can’t have anything to do with you ever again.”

  Then she opened the door and walked out of his life again, closing the window of hope that there could ever be anything between them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joni’s voice filled his office. He heard the strain, her sweet voice laced with so much pain. To increase the volume and improve the sound quality, he’d attached his computer speakers to the micro-cassette recorder. Maybe that tinny radio sound would be better than having her sound so close, so real. He cringed, knowing she’d been suffering through a private hell when she’d recorded these tapes, but had wanted to tell him these things anyway. He didn’t deserve that kind of sacrifice.

  That kind of love.

  “I was just thinking about the time we went to the Marine Corps Ball the year after you came home from Kuwait. So handsome in your dress blues. Made my heart stop for a moment. If I never told you that before, I wanted you to know how proud I was to be by your side that night and every day.”

  God, Joni. You always made me the proudest Marine. She was the perfect Marine wife. No, the perfect wife.

  He heard her draw a deep breath. “Anyway, I still
remember talking with your CO and his wife and I accidentally called you Master. Her eyes became so wide.” Another breath, this one ragged. “She looked from you to me. You’d think she’d never seen a slave before, which is pretty hard to imagine, because I knew of several other wives on base who were collared by their husbands in twenty-four/seven relationships.”

  Is that where she’d gotten the idea to be collared by him? Surely not, because he’d known some of their masters, too, and they seemed to take their wives for granted. Adam never thought he deserved Joni. Sure as hell didn’t want to take her for granted. Of course, she had her own circle of friends on base, which was good, especially when school was out for the summers and he was out on maneuvers somewhere.

  The tape continued to whirr in silence a moment, then she continued, her voice barely a whisper, causing him to raise the volume. “I wish I could have been your slave to the end. I so wanted to please you. You gave me so much. Please, Master, tell me I pleased you.” Her voice broke and the tape was paused. He reached out to turn it off, not able to listen to more.

  How can you even ask that?

  “Aww, fuck, Joni, you were the best slave a man could want. You always pleased me.” Hell, all she had to do was smile and he was pleased. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids. Maybe she’d been able to tell his heart wasn’t in being a Master, though, all those years. If he’d been honest with her, he never would have gotten into a Master/slave arrangement in the first place. Or he’d have gone back to a Dom/sub when he’d seen what it was doing to him. He didn’t want that much fucking control over anyone.

  “Hell, just look at the mess it was with Karla,” he muttered to himself.

  But he and Karla had at least been honest with each other and ended their Master/slave when Adam safeworded, as much for her as for himself. They’d gravitate to a Dom/sub instead, which seemed to work for them for awhile. Now, he wasn’t sure what they had, if anything. Since returning from San Diego last week, they’d just been coexisting again, most of their interactions club-related, no BDSM or sex.