Assignment: Code of Love [Hawt Men In and Out of Uniform 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Honor James

  “Crap, you scared the bejesus out of me.” She put the tablet on the desk and looked at the man. “Where are Craig and Elliott?” It was rare that her men weren’t in the office with her so now she was very curious.

  “Timmons was getting more coffee while drinking straight out of the second pot. Yoshi was down in the gym beating the hell out of the heavy bag. For someone who seems so calm and centered, he’s not in a very happy place right now.”

  Elliott came up behind the other guy, slapping him on the back as he moved around the large man. “Anything new?” he asked her as he settled into his chair and swung around to face his screens. His jaw was covered in a couple days’ worth of stubble since he’d practically been tied to the computers once Markham reported in that Parker had eluded their net.

  She saw the look on the large man’s face and sighed. “Nothing,” she stated for the man. When he nodded and turned to walk away she looked to Elliott. “As much as I hate to say this, and I really do, I think that Markham is right and we are going to have to use me as bait to draw this man out.”

  The look he gave her should have cooked her on the spot. He didn’t say anything which meant he was at least finally considering it. Oddly Craig had seen the wisdom in it while advising many safeguards and precautions. Elliot on the other hand had flat-out, straight up given a fuck no and stormed out of the meeting. It had taken her over two hours to get him calmed down. Even then, if any of the other guys had headed that way in a conversation, he’d gotten hot under the collar.

  Taking a sip from the mug he still held in hand, he got the headset back over his ears and queued up another one of the recordings. He sat back in his chair, eyes glued to the monitor and the wavelength readings that appeared there as the recording played, and cradled his coffee in his hands over his belly. His attention was absolute. She knew he was determined to find something, anything, to ensure she didn’t have to be used as bait.

  She sighed and watched him. She hated that he was so angry and so adamant against using her, but she was also thankful. He didn’t want to lose her, she got that. God only knew she didn’t want to be lost! She lifted one of the headphones and spoke in his ear. “I love you, Elliott, but I’m going to go and find me some coffee. I’m also putting in an order for pizza. Is there anything in particular that you want?”

  He reached out to pause the recording and sighed. “Anything you want, no anchovies, though,” he told her. Which was the same thing he always told her about ordering pizza. Shifting in his seat, he wrapped an arm around her neck, pulled her in closer, and rested his forehead to hers. “I love you, Clara Smith,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too, Elliott Timmons.” She hugged him tightly and just relaxed there with him. “And I would never order anchovies. I hate them just as much as you do.” She pulled back so that she could look him in the eyes. “I am not going anywhere. Even if they used me you would keep me safe, I have that much faith in you.”

  “I know you do,” he said. Heaving a sigh he leaned his head back on his chair. “I, on the other hand, don’t have that much faith in myself at the moment. The mere thought of painting a big old target on your back, taunting this asshole, and letting you out there to pull him in scares the shit out of me. Every time I play various scenarios around in my head I can feel myself break out in the sweats, the tremors that rattle me, and the fact my mind goes absolutely numb. Combat zones with only one bullet in my gun are nothing compared to the thought of you being used to lure this fucker in.”

  “I know.” She had her cheek to his and closed her eyes. “But you know that I’m a smart woman and I’m also a woman that would do anything to continue to survive. I would always want to do that because you are it for me. I want to come home to you every single day and night. You need to know that.”

  “I do know that. All of that, love, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It goes against every fiber of my being. If it comes down to it, and we have to do it, I’ll be the first one in line to get you prepped for this. I’m not currently convinced we’re at that stage yet, though. Go grab some coffee, order the pizzas, and then come back up here. Craig should be done beating the snot out of that heavy bag soon and will come here after he cleans up. Especially once he hears that you’ve ordered pizzas.”

  “Sounds good.” She kissed him once more and moved away from him so that she could go and order the pizza and get herself some coffee.

  * * * *

  With the money in her hands, Clara waited down by the security desk and chatted with one of the new men in Nightshade as well as the guards who were part of the building’s security. She saw the pizza man before anyone else did and walked toward the man. “Fabulous. Thank you!” The boxes were piled so tall that she couldn’t see the poor man who was hidden behind them. “Here, let me take...” Her voice died off when the pizza boxes were dropped.

  She couldn’t speak. She watched, as if in slow motion, Carl Parker lifted his hand and fired the gun that he held. She heard bodies behind her hitting the floor and was still completely dumbfounded. She didn’t think she could see what was happening, she had to be dreaming. This simply wasn’t possible. The man wasn’t really that stupid, right?

  Then the gun turned to her. “You are coming with me, bitch.”

  “No.” Clara’s voice came out firm, but she felt so stupid that it wasn’t even funny. She was telling a man with a gun no, she had seriously lost her mind.

  “Yes, you are,” he said and let the gun barrel drop just a bit and shot.

  Clara screamed when she felt the icy burn of the bullet that entered her upper thigh in the fleshy part. She would have dropped to the ground but instead Carl put his shoulder in her stomach and picked her up in a fireman’s carry, dropping the gun in the meantime and starting for the door.

  “Clara!” She heard both Elliott and Craig yell her name in near perfect unison. While Parker ran toward the idling vehicle at the curb, she bounced on his shoulder. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as other shouts followed them.

  The crack of a gun being fired was loud though. Parker stumbled, cursing loudly, and turned enough for her to see who had fired. Elliott was staring down his handgun with scary and deadly focus. Craig was racing out of the building, but it was Elliott who she focused on right then. Breaking around Elliott as he fired again, Craig managed to break the majority of her fall when she started to take a header for the asphalt.

  Another shot was fired. Clara felt something warm and gooey hit her cheek as Craig yanked her into his arms. Carl Parker was screaming bloody murder and clawing at her leg to try and keep a hold of her.

  Clara looked at Craig and let her head fall back against his chest again. “Thank you. For catching me.” She heard a car squealing away and felt sick. “Shit, the others got away.” She knew that they hadn’t intended for her to be used that day as bait. She had truly only intended on getting their pizza.

  “Son of a bitch that hurts.” She felt the icy cold burn of pain that moved from her thigh to her hip. She felt as if she couldn’t move her leg at all. “How in the hell have you boys survived getting shot before?” She looked back at Elliott then. He had a cold mask on his face and so she did the only thing she could think of at that time, she stretched her hand out to him. He was far from her but she knew he would come. Elliott would always come for her and she knew it.

  His gun was still aimed at Parker, at his head if she had to take an educated guess, and it wasn’t wavering in the least. Elliott moved slowly in a sideways manner until he could crouch down to take her hand in his. Never taking his eyes, or his weapon off the man, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Talk to me,” he said softly. “Where are you hurt, sweetheart?”

  “My upper thigh, the meaty part. He freaking shot me.” She already had thirteen scars from his kniving her, but this was even more painful. “Thank you.” She leaned her cheek to Elliott’s hand and closed her eyes. She was being held close by Craig and had Elliott hol
ding her hand as well. “Can I please never get shot again?”

  “You damn well shouldn’t have been shot this time,” Craig said. He sounded like he was forcing out the words through his teeth.

  “Ambulance is on its way,” Michael told them. Glancing over she saw him walking toward them, his gun up and pointed at Parker. Same with the majority of the Nightshade crew. Jacobs and another of the new guys were back with the man who’d taken a round. He was sitting up, but had a lot of blood down the front of his shirt, and his arm.

  “Good, have you called the cops?” Elliott asked, his tone more than chilly.

  “They are en route.”

  “The men, oh god he shot them.” Clara didn’t let go of her men but she was shifting and moving so that she could see the men. “They need to go to the hospital. Please tell me that they are okay?” She prayed that these men weren’t hurt too badly. “I didn’t think that this guy would be ballsy enough to do this, to walk right into the offices like he did.”

  “It’s amazing what someone who is determined enough in his twisted little mind will do,” Michael said. “Elliott, you good?”

  “Yeah, get his hands tied before I decide to save the court system time and finish him off right now.”

  Michael slipped his gun into his holster and pulled out a set of zip ties from a pocket. Rolling Parker over onto his stomach, even as the man screamed, Michael wrenched his arms behind his back and used the zip ties to secure him. Only once Parker was secure did a couple of the others put their weapons away and then move to help the others who had been shot. Elliott never once wavered, his gun staying pointed right at Parker’s head.

  “Who all was injured? Please tell me that it wasn’t bad? I heard bodies hitting the ground and it nearly killed me not to turn around. I refused to turn around, though, because I was sure that he would have taken me instantly, or shot me in the head.” She was stammering. The adrenaline left her system and now it was filled with pain. “I think that I’m ready for pain pills or an injection now.” She heard the ambulances pull up then and relaxed. “Thank god. Get the men that are hurt worse than I am first, though.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Michael reported. “One through and through at the shoulder that’s a bit of a bleeder. A couple of skimmers, and one ricochet. Everyone is alive given the amount of whining, moaning, and groaning going on. This asshole’s the only one that’s truly hurt,” he said, giving Parker a kick that had him screaming and cursing once more. “So you’ll go first. He can’t go anywhere until the police arrive, and he’s officially in their custody.”

  She nodded and clung to both Craig and Elliott. “I’m making you both come with me. I can’t let you go so please don’t ask me to?” She didn’t know how well that would go over with the EMTs but she honestly didn’t give a good hairy hot damn. These were her men and they would keep her safe. Period. She could only trust them, no one else.

  “We’ll be right there with you,” Craig assured her.

  Markham wandered up, a weapon in hand and down by his leg. “Timmons, I’ve got him. Worry about your woman,” he said.

  Elliott stayed where he was for a moment before lowering his arm and sliding the gun into the holster strapped to his thigh. Only when Slater had his weapon pointed right at Parker did Elliott turn to face her. He stroked her face gently with a finger as his gaze ran over her. He took the gauze from Jacobs and put it over her wound. “This will hurt,” he warned an instant before he applied pressure.

  “Son of a bitch!” Clara cried out and felt the tears running in rivulets down her cheeks. “I don’t like being shot.” She had been stabbed and that had been painful but this was more of an icy cold sensation than anything.

  “It definitely sucks,” Elliott said softly. One hand on her leg to keep pressure on the wound, he used the other to lift her hand from his arm and then pressed a light kiss to her fingertips. “You will be fine, breathe. You need to breathe, and focus on something else.” The sirens were getting closer, and she could just barely make out the flash of the lights.

  “I’m focusing on you. Don’t frown at me.” She knew, somewhere deep in her mind, that it wasn’t her that he was frowning at but he had a serious look on his face all the same. “Realistically I know that he didn’t shoot me to kill me, but good lord that hurts.” The man had been very careful actually to disable her, but not harm her permanently. That was something that Clara would have to think on later. “Kiss me? Yes, if you kiss me I won’t be so stressed.”

  “He shot you to slow you down in case you thought to run,” Craig said. He shifted their position slightly to stroke her hair back. “EMTs are here,” he called out. The first ambulance pulled into the lot and swung around so the back doors were pointed in their general direction.

  “About fucking time,” Elliott muttered. He shot a look over his shoulder to the ambulance before looking at her again. Leaning in he pressed a kiss to her lips. “Do whatever they tell you to do, let us worry about them telling us we can’t go with you. Trust me, they won’t argue long.”

  “Okay, I trust you,” she said without even hesitating. She leaned into Craig once more and closed her eyes. “Now then, I will let them work on me but you have to keep Elliott from beating the crap out of the first one that touches me.”

  “Me? Why me?” he asked. She could feel him laughing even though he must have been smothering the sound. “I might just help him by holding the fuckers down for him. Not that I will, but it’s damn tempting right now.”

  “The woman first,” Michael was saying. “This asshole gets to wait until the cops arrive at the very least since he’s the one that shot my people and her. Get to it,” he snapped out.

  “Because you are the only one that he will listen to.” Clara tuned out Michael and the whining that was coming from Parker. Instead she focused on Craig and Elliott. She reached out and put her hand on Elliott’s and gave it a squeeze. “Elliott, please don’t hurt them. They are going to treat me. You know that, right?” He had never, ever liked it when she was hurt and sadly lashed out against anyone that came near her during that time.

  He shot her a look but kept his mouth shut. She could see the definition of his jaw tighten up and knew he was clenching his teeth tight. When one of the paramedics dropped down next to him, Elliott shifted to the side slightly.

  “Gunshot to the leg, a through and through,” Craig told the EMT. “She’s lost a bit of blood but it seems to be slowing since the original trauma. She hasn’t lost consciousness once, never hit her head, and has no other injuries.”

  The EMT shot him a look and blinked. “Right, good,” he said. “How’s your pain level, ma’am?” he asked. Cautiously he was reaching for the gauze that Elliott was still pressing down. Elliott lifted his hands so the EMT could take a quick look underneath, before putting his own hand on top to hold it in place while he scrounged in his bag with his free hand.

  “I’m in freezing cold pain. I’ve been stabbed before and that was lightning-hot but this one is freezing cold. I can’t feel anything from the gunshot down except pins and needles, which really sucks monkey balls,” she muttered and took Elliott’s now free hand. “It does hurt, though, a great deal. I want to be able to have something for the pain sooner rather than later if you wouldn’t mind, please?”

  He gave her a nod as he pulled out some more gauze to add to that on her leg and then wrapped it all in place. His partner wheeled the gurney over and, with the help of Craig and Elliott, they got her up onto it. The EMT got on the phone with the hospital, gave them her vitals, and when it was authorized he gave her a shot of morphine for the pain.

  Within minutes the pain was gone and Clara felt herself being lifted up and into the ambulance. “Feeling so lovely now,” she whispered with a happy grin on her face.

  Epilogue

  “How’s she doing?” Michael asked as he stepped in closer and passed off the cup of coffee from the hospital cafeteria.

  It had been barely thirty-six hours
since Parker’s attack at the Nightshade offices, but things were in motion. Taking a sip of the hot brew, Elliott let out a breath. “Cranky, sore, a little emotional, and definitely wants the fuck out of here,” he said. The doctors were keeping her for a couple of days because of a low-grade fever she’d developed about six hours after they’d gotten to the hospital. They didn’t think it was anything major, but they wanted to be sure.

  Not that Clara was being all that cooperative about it. She wanted out, and she wanted out immediately. He and Yoshi were taking turns cajoling her into behaving. Right now it was Yoshi’s turn to keep her entertained while Elliott stretched his legs, had some coffee, and generally got out of the room so he’d stop driving her batty.

  “What’s the word on Parker?” he asked.

  “The cops have a solid case on him since I was more than willing to give them every damn security recording we had from the office. He’s a third striker so he’ll be behind bars until the day he dies. Talked to the DA, too, thanks to the Admiral. He’s going to throw the book at the guy, and no matter what he think he has to plea with he won’t be getting any time off for his shit.”

  “Good,” Elliott grunted out. Shifting slightly, he looked through the window into Clara’s room, and grinned when he saw Yoshi waving his arms and talking animatedly. Must be telling her a story, given her wide-eyed look and the smile hovering on her lips. “I should have shot the motherfucker. Would have saved the system, and Clara, too, the hassle of another trial for the idiot.”

  “Best you didn’t,” Michael told him. “They are understanding of the fact you had to stop him. But if you’d drilled him between the eyes you would have been the one facing a long trial.”

  “A jury of my peers would have let me off,” Elliott said. “Then again the lawyers tend to stack the jury with those they each think will give them the verdict they want.”