by Kells, India
The woman behind the bar checked out their little troop with suspicion, but kept cleaning her liquor bottles. She was Caucasian, but Gabrielle suspected she had some Spanish blood in her. And it would only be visible if you could ignore the blinding platinum hair she wore pinned up at the top of her head. The other thing she noticed, of many things for that matter, was her ample bosom almost spilling out from her corset. She didn’t know what exactly was avoiding such a catastrophe. The flimsy material stretched in a way that made it impossible not to expect a landslide.
“What can I offer you, darlings?” Her eyes went straight to Sully and she smiled enticingly while giving him a good view of the goods. “Anything you would like, handsome?”
Surprisingly, Sully remained stoic. Gabrielle would have suspected some sort of flirtation, but he stayed distant, very unlike him.
“Yes, we came here at the recommendation of Lance Sorenson. He’s supposed to have contacted you and explained our needs.”
The flirtatious barmaid turned into a hostile blonde in the blink of an eye. Not only was she all business, but Gabrielle suspected angry as well. At Sully?
“Lance called me. Follow me.”
Gabrielle let Sully lead for now, but she was accumulating questions for a later interrogation. In the backroom, Colette moved a couple of boxes and a tall shelf, which hid a door. You had to know it was a door—no doorknob, and the only visible sign was a thin line on the dirty wall. Collette pushed the door which clicked and opened.
“The bunker is downstairs. Everything is prepared. If you need anything, let me know, but the less we see you, the better, if you want my opinion.”
She huffed and swiped her hands on her small lace apron. “The cellar is soundproof, so don’t worry about that. Lance will contact you as soon as arrangements are done.” Colette turned on her high heels, her hips swaying like clockwork.
Sully helped Alie down the flight of stairs, and when they were out of earshot, Luke snickered.
“What?”
Merriment was back in the young doctor’s eyes. “If the baby is born here and we need a wet nurse, I’ll know who to call.”
It made Gabrielle smile as they went down into the cellar.
The place was impressive. There were bunk beds, a double bed, and two cots, a small kitchenette, and a door leading to a small functional bathroom.
Sully put Alie to bed and Gabrielle was looking at the cot with longing in her eyes when the young woman moaned loudly. You’ve gotta be kidding me, Gabrielle thought. Luke ran to the side of the bed and started to examine her. Sully stayed at Alie’s side … well, he had no choice in the matter, she was gripping his hand like a vice.
Gabrielle made sure the doors were shut and secured before returning to Luke.
“Do you need anything?”
Luke thought about it. “Clean sheets would be good. Not an immediate emergency, but soon.”
As Luke went into the bathroom to wash up, Gabrielle started to search the cupboard and any possible place for sheets. Although the kitchen was well stocked, it lacked basic silverware and linen.
“I’ll go back upstairs. Anything else you need?”
Exiting the bathroom, Luke answered, “Sterilized knife and thread. If you can find some.”
She couldn’t help but glance at Sully. His attention was solely on Alie, but the pain and discomfort on his face almost made him look as if he was the one delivering the baby. Gabrielle wouldn’t say a word, though. She preferred to face Colette rather than assist a pregnant girl about to give birth.
The backroom door was not blocked by the boxes and shelf yet. Making sure there were still no patrons in the dining room, she circled around the bar, where Colette was finishing putting her liquor bottles back in place.
Barely glancing at her, the busty waitress sighed. “What now?”
Gabrielle folded her arms. If the tramp thought she could scare her away with a frown and a sigh, she was wrong on all accounts.
“No need to bite my head off. Don’t worry, as soon as we can go away, we’ll get out of your hair.”
Colette exhaled again, but this time it was a tad less aggressive.
“It’s not you. The safe house is there, Lance knows it. You need it, use it.”
“Is there any particular reason why you have a stick up your ass for us being here?”
“It’s not you … It’s him, that son of a bitch.”
Gabrielle blinked. “Who him?”
“That fucking Navy SEAL. Thorne.”
“Okay. Any reason or you despise men in uniform?”
Colette harrumphed so hard, Gabrielle thought her corset was about to explode.
“He cannot be trusted, bound to cross you whatever chance he gets.”
Gabrielle was intrigued enough by the sudden outburst of the sexy waitress to sit on a stool. What did she know about Sullivan Thorne? He was one of the men of an admiral who Bea trusted. Bea, who was nowhere to be seen and accused of murdering the same admiral. She had faith in what she saw. Sully held his own from the start and he didn’t trust her more than she trusted him. Could this be a good or a bad thing? A part of her wanted to know more … but what for? The mission or herself?
Colette finished putting back all the remaining bottles on the shelf, chose one from behind the bar, and placed it in front of her with two shooters. She glanced at Gabrielle while filling both glasses with what appeared to be high-quality tequila.
“Do you fuck the son of a bitch?” Colette smirked, pushing a shooter in her hand.
Gabrielle smirked back. “I did. A couple of times, for that matter.”
Colette nodded. “I heard he was a good lay. First class. The kind who can screw you until you go blind and forget your name.”
“So it’s because he screwed you, or he screwed with you that you want to cut his balls off?”
Colette smiled, swirling the clear liquid a little. “I’ll drink to that.”
Gabrielle clinked her shooter before tossing it up. The alcohol didn’t go well with her parched throat and empty stomach. Colette filled the two shooters again.
“Now spill it, Colette. Why do you hate Sullivan Thorne so much? Hell, how do you even know him?”
Gabrielle watched the woman swallow, her smile now grim. She refrained from tossing back the second shooter.
“He’s a friend of a friend.”
“Wow! Such a good reason to hate a guy!”
“Shut up! You know nothing. You screw a nutball more interested in his own dick than in the women he has sex with. My friend, my very good friend is Lance Sorenson. Sullivan’s former swim buddy. A man worth more than Thorne, for sure.”
The man Sully had called for help, to extract Alie and Luke. And after calling him, Sully seemed like he had bitten into a lemon.
“What of him?”
“You probably know about Hell Week, and Navy SEAL training in general. After such an ordeal, pain and suffering to be part of that exclusive club, the swim buddies, the two men assigned to each other during these hellish months, bond stronger than blood brothers. They would lay their lives down for one another, without hesitation. Well, that’s normally the case. But unfortunately for Lance, that’s not what happened with the bastard Thorne.”
Gabrielle closed her hand around her shot glass, waiting for the rest.
“Lance was engaged to one hell of a woman. That’s what he told me. One night, he came back home a bit earlier than usual … the training he was supposed to conduct with recruits got switched with something else, not important. He came back and he found Sully screwing his fiancée. An awful blow. He never recovered. It forced him to leave his current SEAL Team and be reassigned and work on a special task force, here.”
Colette poured another shot and drank it. How many did she have?
“Lance told you that?”
Colette nodded. “Poor guy. He came here often and we started to talk. Sister, I can tell you one sure thing, a man is broken hearted, beyond hope when he can
’t even be aroused by a woman anymore.”
“You offered and he refused? Wow! That’s bad.”
Colette nodded again. “I know. I couldn’t even be insulted by his refusal. So when he called me to ask for a favor, it was easy to say yes. But knowing I’m helping that scumbag, it’s getting to me.”
Gabrielle stared at her shooter for a moment. What Colette had told her was not a complete surprise. Sullivan Thorne had made it clear from the start that only sex was on the table. And even though she didn’t want to generalize, Gabrielle knew the expression about having a girl in every port. She was only the one from South Africa, and Namibia. So if her brain could understand it, why was she still feeling a pang of regret?
Rising to her feet, Gabrielle was happy to see that the tequila had not gotten to her head. On the other hand, Colette was on her way to Hangoverville, big time.
“Slow down on the booze, Colette. No man in the world is worth throwing up for. Definitely something I can confirm.”
Colette laughed. “I’ll remember your advice.”
Gabrielle stopped herself, remembering why she had to come back upstairs. “Oh! Colette, I need clean sheets, some thread, and a knife.”
Colette swayed a little when she turned to her. “You plan to do some sewing downstairs? You can find all you need in the back. I think in one big plastic bin. I don’t know which one.”
“Thanks, Colette.”
One last glance at Colette reminded her of herself, not so long ago in a hot shower—the kind of desperation that gripped the gut and made you act stupid. Was she about to walk down this road again? And after all that time, she thought experience had made her wise. What a pile of shit.
***
It was eerily calm when Gabrielle went back downstairs. The lights were dimmed but she could still see enough. Luke was lying on the bed beside Alie. Sully was still on the small chair near her, his arms folded, his long legs in front of him. She couldn’t see if his eyes were closed or not. Alie seemed asleep. When Sully heard her, he unfolded from his chair and stretched.
“What happened? Is Alie okay?” She tried her best to keep her voice low.
Sully nodded as he rubbed his neck. “Yeah, false alarm. Luke said it could still happen. But the next time we move her, or if anything traumatic happens, she may go into full labor.”
“Great …” As she took the last step off the stairs and went to put her load on the counter, tiredness nagged at her. One by one, her muscles pulled and whined, and if they didn’t, they itched. When was the last time she showered or slept? And with a dose of alcohol in the mix, it made her extra grumpy.
She eyed the bathroom and told herself she could indulge in hot water, if only for a few minutes before putting her dirty clothes back on.
As she took a step, Sully grabbed her arm.
“What’s going on?”
She didn’t mind feel like being manhandled right now, so she shrugged off his grasp. “I’m just tired.”
Well, it was a fair summary of the situation. She was bone tired—her soul was tired, she was tired of this business and not being able to trust a single human being. She was tired of being lied to and having to extricate herself of impossible situations. She couldn’t over analyze this, so she went for the shower.
Sully let her go, but she knew it wasn’t over. He was a stubborn man, and he would realize she could be as stubborn, too.
Gabrielle closed the door of the bathroom before switching on the light. It was small; two steps between the toilet and the bath with a sink in between. She removed her clothes, letting them fall on the floor as she went. Steam rose as she stepped into the bath and closed the curtain. The water felt so good, she bit back a moan. Seeing the grime, blood, and dust sluicing down her body, she realized how dirty she was. As best she could, she scrubbed every inch of skin with the little bar of soap, ending with her hair. Luckily, she had cut it shorter than usual, so her thick blonde curls didn’t tangle too badly at this shoulder length. Thank heavens for small blessings.
As she took a moment to relax under the spray, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Colette. She didn’t know if everything she had told her was the exact truth. Maybe. He was a single man after all. With no honor if what the busty waitress said was true. On the other hand, she saw how he cared about her, how he protected her instinctively when danger arose. What was a definite fact had been how he took care of Alie. Many men would have fled, running away if they needed to handle a pregnant girl, afraid and shaking. Not once since they avoided the attack at the clinic had he lost patience or appeared exasperated when Alie made him promise, one more time again, to not leave her. And when they thought she’d gone into labor, he was by her side, white as a ghost but still holding her hand. It gave her a good glimpse of his true character. And her judgment had kept her alive so far.
“I hate to see you torturing your mind. If you have a question for me, ask.”
Damn! She didn’t hear him come into the bathroom. She was getting too distracted and that could become an issue if she didn’t have some shut-eye coming soon.
“A shut door implies some sort of privacy, sailor. Get out.”
Sully didn’t appear to move, as the door remained closed.
“This space is the only privacy there is, so if you want to ask private questions, I cannot think of a better place.”
It was his tone that made her shut off the shower. He was serious. Dead serious.
“Gimme a towel, sailor.”
She extended her arms outside the curtain and he handed her one. Another sigh. No smug comment about her ass, or how he could get her in the shower. After drying off, Gabrielle wrapped her towel around her.
When she pushed the curtain aside, he was sitting on the toilet, his elbows on his knees, looking at her with a fierce gaze, but without the usual sexual heat.
Gabrielle stepped out and took a second towel to dry her hair before wrapping it around her head.
“Sully?”
“I guess dear Colette told you about what happened, years ago, with Lance and his fiancée. The story spread around like it’s the only news there is.”
Gabrielle lowered herself on the edge of the bath. “In between shooters of tequila, she gave me a heated summary of the situation. So you knew Colette and Lance were friends?”
Sully shook his head. “Lance doesn’t make friends easily, so I assumed he could have been a patron here. Well, I don’t think there are thousands of bars in the place. And again, it isn’t a big stretch to guess Colette would have willingly made a move toward Lance and he would then have told this not-quite-true story to keep her at bay. His heart too broken by his bastard friend to ever be with a woman again.”
Gabrielle angled her head. “Why would Lance push away a woman like Colette? She’s the epitome of walking sex.”
Sully lifted his head to gaze at her dead in the eyes.
“Because Lance isn’t into women.”
***
Shit, I shouldn’t have revealed that. By the way Gabrielle froze in front of him, his fear of her not trusting him may switch into something quite different. He started revealing as much, but there was no way he was turning back now.
“The story you heard from Colette is one I’ve heard time and time again, warped by Lance to suit his needs. Do you want to hear my side? But I have to warn you, it may alter the way you look at me. No, let me rephrase. It will change the way you look at me for the rest of your life.”
Sully had never felt this uncomfortable in his life. Not that what he was about to tell her mattered, he was more worried about her reaction, what she would think. Because he just realized at this moment that she mattered now. The mercenary woman who was like an angel, who kicked ass and could defend herself and be loyal to those she loved like a lioness, had insinuated herself into his heart, crack by crack. He didn’t have a choice now but to jump and hope luck was on his side.
Before he could speak, she stood up. “Can you multitask? I su
ppose you’re one of the few men on this Earth capable of doing so.”
What the hell? “Sure, what do you want me to do?”
“We might not have a lot of time, so let’s switch places. Hop in the shower and then tell me everything.”
He didn’t like it a bit. While he showered, he wouldn’t be able to see her reactions, to glance at her face. He wouldn’t be able to switch gears and maybe reveal less or stop altogether.
Gabrielle came closer and cupped his cheek as he rose up.