Mayhem's Warrior: Operation Mayhem
Page 11
If she didn’t get him out of this place and find medical supplies, Reaper would die.
She grabbed his good arm, draped it over her shoulders and attempted to stand. Reaper’s massive weight yanked her right back down to the floor. Her knees banged into the concrete and she yelped in pain. Exhaustion crept through her muscles, her brain, even through her skin. Every single inch of her body screamed for her to lie down beside him and rest.
The men would probably not come back again tonight after the building had been cleared. She could close her eyes and relent to the sweet oblivion of sleep and pray she woke up fresh and ready for tomorrow’s challenges.
But if she did that, Reaper might not wake up at all. And no amount of fatigue was worth his life. Determined, she dragged his arm over her shoulders and once more attempted to stand and lift her warrior, but she couldn’t even straighten her back. He was simply too big and too heavy, making it physically impossible for her to carry him from this building.
Darkness crept into the warehouse, the shade of night camouflaging them from prying eyes. Her only hope was to wake Reaper for long enough to get him on his feet so they could get somewhere and hide out. She just didn’t know if she could wake him.
10
Reaper fought through the haze of pain, trying to focus on the ceiling above him. His normally sharp senses were cold and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open long enough to assess the situation.
Moonlight crept through the windows across the way, and he managed to turn his head to focus on the figure huddled on the floor beside him. The details of Caroline’s body came into sharp focus and he realized she must’ve fallen asleep. The darkness outside signaled it had been for more than a couple of hours.
“Caroline,” he rasped out, attempting to reach for her, but pain shot through his arm and it fell useless to the floor.
Her head shot up and she stared at him through bleary, reddened eyes. “You’re awake?”
“How long have I been out?”
“I don’t know, too long. I thought … It doesn’t matter. Thank God you’re awake.” She scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees until she was right beside him. She looked down at him. “Can you move?”
He shifted a single foot, then moved on to larger parts of his body. His legs he could handle, no problem, his left arm too, but his right arm was about as useful as a severed body part.
At least the bleeding had slowed down, now there was just a huge dark stain caked on his shoulder.
His body flushed hot, cold, and then hot again, sending painful chills racing across the skin. Infection was setting in. He had to get treatment now.
No matter how enhanced or strong he was, he was still susceptible to death.
“I tried to get you out of here, but I wasn’t strong enough.” Caroline’s broken voice sliced through his self-assessment. She had lifted her head from her knees and was staring straight ahead, tiny tremors working down her equally tiny frame. Captured in that cute pose, she looked even smaller and more vulnerable.
Reaper concentrated on getting his lips to move, but everything was tingling and his body was finding it hard to concentrate. “No way you could move me. I’m twice your size.”
“The men came.”
Reaper took a second to digest that intel. He’d left her alone in that situation. He’d bottomed out at the worst time possible. “Did they hurt you?” he managed to ask.
Another hard shudder worked down her body, and still she refused to meet his gaze. “No. I hid us from them.”
“Where? How?”
This time Caroline didn’t speak at all. She pointed straight ahead. Reaper’s gaze fell on the pile of bodies. “Clever girl.”
Caroline’s head jerked in his direction. “Clever? I was desperate. I couldn’t let them find you.”
“Or you,” Reaper growled.
She continued like he hadn’t spoken, “You passed out over there, on the wall next to them. Soldiers were trying to kick down the door. I probably injured your shoulder more when I shoved you underneath there, but I didn’t have another choice.”
Her resourcefulness and determination amazed him. He’d seen some pretty heavy shit in his days, but a human dump was still atrocious to him, which meant it had to be absolutely shocking to someone as delicate as Caroline.
But she hadn’t broken under the pressure. She’d sucked it up and saved his life. Reaper frowned; he didn’t like owing anyone anything. Especially her. He couldn’t afford to feel any loyalty toward her. As soon as he got her stateside, he would need to take her blood and find someone to make a new batch of serum.
Reaper hadn’t liked seeing her hooked up to all those IVs back at the lab, and he’d liked her obvious terror even less. And that was before he had owed her anything, much less his life.
But then another thought struck. Technically he’d saved her from the lab. She’d saved him while he was unconscious. They were even.
Satisfied with his conclusion, Reaper let himself relax on the ground as he tried to puzzle out what to do next. “We can’t stay in here. Darkness has fallen, so it’s time to make our move. I need med supplies. Pronto.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I shoved you into that pile of dead bodies. Doesn’t that bother you?”
He would’ve shrugged if he could have. Instead he planted his good hand on the ground and began the arduous task of trying to sit.
“You did what had to be done. Any soldier would’ve done the same thing. I would’ve done the same thing.”
Caroline stared at him with her mouth open and her eyes wide. Had she expected him to be pissed off that she’d used her brain instead of panicking? “Now, I need your assistance to get to my feet.”
Caroline stood so suddenly that a wave of dizziness swept over Reaper as he fought to keep up with her movement.
“How can you be so cavalier about that?” She gestured once more to the large lumpy tarp a few feet away. “There are children in there. Innocents.”
Well, it looked like she wasn’t going to help him to his feet. Not that she’d be able to support his weight anyway. He’d have to do it on his own. He rolled to his side, got up on one knee and lifted up on his elbow, locking it in position. The effort cost him precious energy and sent a rolling wave of pain to his wound. He gritted his teeth, fighting the sweet hurt of oblivion, and slowly worked both knees underneath him until he was in a semi-upright position. “And there’s nothing you can do about them now, Caroline. I suggest you forget you ever saw it.”
Compartmentalization. It was how he’d gotten through the heavy shit in the beginning. Now it just happened naturally. Dead bodies affected him as much as the change in the weather, not really at all. He used that skill now, taking his pain and shoving it into a box in the back of his mind as he fought to get to his feet. One thing at a time. Stand first, walk later.
“Forget it?” Her voice had taken on a shrill quality, like she was hyperventilating or something. Sure enough, when he looked at her, her chest was rising and falling way too fast, her blue eyes growing into saucers. Shit. If he didn’t distract her, shock might set in and then where would they be?
He was too weak to haul her out of there, and she was too small to do the same for him. As much as he hated relying on others, they needed each other if they were going to make it out of this situation.
She needed reassurance, and he had about as much experience soothing women as he did playing with dolls. But that’s exactly what Caroline was right now—the tough woman who’d shoved him into a pile of dead bodies had become a fragile china doll ready to shatter at any moment.
He didn’t know shit about her either. Except she was loyal enough not to leave him to die. Oh—she liked it when he held her hand. That had worked before. “Caroline, come here.”
She shuffled across the floor, her movements like wood. As soon as she got within touching distance, he used his good arm and grabbed her hand. That action didn’t seem to do much this time. S
he was still hovering on zombie mode. And the chills racking his body weren’t getting any better either.
Not knowing what else to do, he stroked her palm, then lengthened his path from the inside of her elbow all the way down to her fingertips.
Wow, her skin was so silky soft. Even her palms were smooth and not calloused. The sensation was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. This was something he could do forever, touching her.
“Don’t focus on people you can’t help,” he said. “Focus on us.”
The look she gave him made him feel invincible.
“Us?” she asked, breathlessly.
Damn, why couldn’t he stop staring at her mouth? For such a petite woman, she had incredibly lush lips. They practically begged for his kiss.
What would it be like to actually taste her? He couldn’t even wrap his mind around that possibility. She felt so good that the thought of possessing her mouth was beyond his comprehension, just a distant daydream. Still, his fingers found their way around her wrist and he began tugging her down to him.
Her beautiful face was now only inches from his. Her hot breath fanned across his skin. He didn’t want Caroline Cotter, but he needed her. He needed her as badly as he needed to get this bullet out of his shoulder, but the latter was so far in the back of his mind right now he could barely even remember the pain.
With one final tug, he pulled Caroline’s lips down to his and captured her mouth in a searing kiss, his lips pressed to hers until she opened for him and he took full possession.
Her sweet, honeyed taste filled his senses and his world narrowed. This was heaven. He never thought he’d get to experience it, but he’d found it here and now, in this hellhole. There was no way life could get better.
Caroline moaned and leaned into him, her soft breasts pressing against his chest. Reaper’s entire body hardened. He’d been wrong. This was so much better. His fingers itched to curl around her curves and he attempted to do just that, but the move sent a spear of burning agony into his shoulder. He tore his mouth from hers with a grunt and fell back onto his ass. Motherfucker. He’d completely forgotten where he was and how much danger they were in. She’d bewitched him or something. No, he didn’t believe in fake shit like that. It had to be the infection setting in and messing with his mind.
“Reaper. Reaper, are you okay?” Caroline fell to her knees beside him, her gaze searching his.
No, he sure as hell wasn’t okay. He’d just completely lost his mind. Caroline Cotter and the serum that could be made from her blood was the mission, nothing else. He didn’t have feelings for her. He did not have an awareness of her soft body. He refused to. “I think I’m hallucinating. Too much blood loss. Need to get out of here.” Before he did something else stupid like try to kiss her again. That scenario wouldn’t exactly mesh with his ultimate plans for her.
Had a great time making out with you, but I need to drain your blood to save my men.
Naked hurt flashed across her face, but he didn’t let himself be swayed. Crying or acting out wouldn’t change the outcome. The only thing about their situation he could change was whether or not he allowed the weakness to take control of his body again.
Caroline pressed a hand to his forehead. Her dirt-and blood-covered face paled considerably. “You’re burning up.”
11
Reaper’s feverish eyes practically glowed in the darkness. How could she have taken advantage of him like that? Let her stupid body take complete control of her common sense? He hadn’t wanted her—he’d been out of his mind with a fever, and she’d leaned into his kiss like he was Casanova sweeping her off her feet. Even now, her body tingled and ached from where he’d touched her. And despite where they were, despite his condition, she still wanted him to kiss her. Wanted him to touch her.
How could she be so stupid?
From the look of horror crossing Reaper’s features, he was just as disgusted with the whole situation.
And then he stumbled, and shuddered, and all of her self-loathing dissipated. “We have to find a doctor now.”
“No, just the supplies. You can cleanse the wound.” His voice was full of gravel.
Panic started working its way around her. “I’m not a doctor or nurse or anything like it. And you are going to die if you don’t get serious medical attention. Surely we can find someone willing to help.”
His grip tightened and he yanked her roughly to him, his face hovering inches from hers. “Too risky. It has to be you. There’s a clinic on the south end of the street. Get me there, I’ll steal the supplies and then find us a place to hole up.”
He swayed drunkenly and Caroline’s fear ratcheted up another notch. “You’re in no condition to break into anything. Doctors are under an oath to take care of all their patients. They can’t deny you care. It’s against the law.”
“Wake up, little girl, you’re not in the United States. No one here has any obligation to save our lives, and they certainly won’t want to as soon as they figure out who we are. The doctors are controlled by the militia, and if they turn us over to the Americans, they’ll be handsomely rewarded. You can’t let anyone know we’re here.” Reaper let go of her arm so abruptly she nearly stumbled. His black eyes narrowed on her face and she waited, wondering what he’d say next. He reached for her hijab and quickly unwound it from her head.
“Over half this country’s Muslim. Use this as a headscarf to cover your face and hair. Keep your head down. Don’t look at or speak to anyone and we might make it.”
Her hands trembling, she took the material from him and did as he instructed, wrapping the scarf over her head in and around her face. “What about you?”
The long black robe covered his shoulders but stopped above his ankles, his height well above that of an average man.
He needed something more to camouflage his face and head, because there was no way he could be misconstrued as a local from any distance.
“I’ll get something from there.” Reaper took a step in the direction of the bodies, but Caroline jumped in front of him with a wild cry.
“No, there was another scarf hanging on the clothes line. If we start now, I can easily grab it.”
“It’s too risky. Just grab one from the pile.”
“That’s not a pile. It’s a graveyard, and we’ve already desecrated it enough.” She pressed her hands against his abdomen, keeping her stance just as firm as her voice.
“Stop thinking with your emotions,” Reaper said.
“I’m thinking like a human being. You need my help just as much as I need yours. I’m going back out to the clothes line.” And before he could stop her, she darted around him and through the window in the back.
Even though every instinct inside her screamed for her to run down the alley toward the clothes, she kept her head lowered and walked slowly toward her destination. Once there, she carefully pulled another scarf free before circling back and returning to the window. Reaper stood right where she’d left him, face pale and gaze stark.
He looked ready to pass out again. Was he still standing? “Here, let me help you.”
She held the black worn linen out in front of her, silently waiting on Reaper to lean down so she could drape the material over his head. She didn’t want him using that shoulder any more than was absolutely necessary.
With his gaze locked on hers, he crouched and she lifted her arms, gently draping and unwinding the material over his head. “It’s not perfect, but I think you can pass in the dark as long as no one gets a good look at you.”
Reaper gestured her over to the front door, the same one the soldier had burst through hours before. As soon as he grabbed the handle, she grabbed his arm. “What are you doing? We need to go out the back.”
Sweat had gathered and soaked the line of linen covering his nose and cheeks. She could practically feel his strength draining. “Come on, let me help.”
She couldn’t carry him, but she could bear some of his weight and act as a sort of crutch.
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“If we’re spotted walking alone out back, we’ll be arrested. We have to try to blend in. Just do what I said and keep your head down.”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all. We go out back and no one will see us. Go out there,” she hooked her thumb in the direction of the front door, “everyone sees us. It’s suicide.”
Reaper blew out a sigh, causing the material covering the bottom half of his face to billow out in front of him. “Who got you out of the compound?”
“You did.”
“Who got you out of the jungle?” he continued.
“You did,” she said quietly.
“At what point have I ever done anything that wasn’t with the intention of getting you out of here alive?”
“Never, but you’re not thinking clearly. As soon as we leave this place, we’ll be surrounded by the soldiers.”
Reaper placed his good hand on her shoulder, and try as she might, she couldn’t deny the comfort it offered.
“I’ve done this hundreds of times. Keep your head down, stay calm and don’t speak to anyone. Do that, and we’ll make it. What will stand out is if we slink around the back and a guard finds us. Trust me.”
Trust wasn’t even a question. She’d willingly put her life in his hands back in the lab and he’d done nothing but save it. But what he was asking now seemed like absolute insanity. How could walking into the middle of the crowd possibly be safer?
And how could Reaper be so sure that his plan would work? She could see the stark pain tugging at the corners of his eyes just like she could see the sweat soaking his clothing.
But she could also see the unwavering determination in his gaze. It was apparent that he fully believed what he was saying to her. That he had, in fact, experienced something like this before.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
With a nod, Reaper reached for the door again but just as quickly Caroline stopped him. “Wait, your gun is poking out.” Without waiting for his permission, she reached for the rifle he had slung over his good shoulder. The tip was poking out through the front part of his robe. She stepped in close and adjusted the strap so that the rifle hung straight up and down rather than at a haphazard angle. She took a deep breath, his masculine scent filled her senses, causing her to linger a moment longer than necessary.