by D. C. Stone
“Fine. But I’m coming down to stay with you then. I will not argue about this, so it’d be better if you just accept this is how it will go.”
She huffed. “Bossy much?” But she went on without waiting for him to answer. “Fine, you can stay the night.” Like he asked. She was cute. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Sweetheart, you’re lucky you’re so gorgeous or you’d be an extreme pain in my ass.”
“As if!” she snapped.
He grinned. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”
“Thank you, Hailey,” she said, voice muffled, then, “not yet. I planned on ordering something in a bit.”
“I’ll bring some food down. Should be there in about a half-hour.”
“Okay. Hold on a minute.” A few seconds later, her voice came over the line, low and husky. “Chris?”
“Still here, baby.”
Her breath skipped. Now he really listened, wanting to know what she was about to say.
“My nipples were really hard.” Then she hung up.
Christ!
Chapter Fifteen
Hours later, Chris opened his eyes. Something had woken him from his sleep and he took a moment to survey his surroundings.
He lay on his side, Samantha pressed along the length of him, face tucked in his neck. Her soft curves pressed into him from her breasts pillowed against his chest, to her leg hitched over his hip. They were both naked, and despite the cooler weather outside, beneath the blankets, he was nice and warm.
He’d never been one for cuddling, and he didn’t want to think too much into it now. Somehow, in the short time since he’d entered into her life, Samantha had burrowed her way into his mind just as she did to his body physically now.
At the foot of the bed, Delta Alpha let out a warning woof. Not a full-out bark, but just beneath his breath as if he were trying to stay quiet. Chris lifted his head and looked at the door. They’d closed it earlier, wanting to keep the heat inside the apartment. It must be really late or very early as the room was still black, and outside her window the sky was still dark.
DA growled.
“What is it, boy?” he asked, his voice pitched low.
Another woof, this one louder, accompanied by a snarl. Samantha tensed in his arms as Chris sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. DA whined and barked again, this time louder. He grabbed his pants. Amazingly enough, his partner also backed up on the bed until he stood as an over-watch for Samantha.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He grabbed his shirt and shucked it on, then palmed his M9, keeping his eyes on the door and his ears strained, listening for whatever DA heard. “Something has Dumb Ass spooked. I want you to stay here while we check it out.”
“Chris,” she said, and nothing more.
He looked over and found her clutching the comforter to her chest, eyes wide in the darkness. “It’ll be okay. If you feel more comfortable, get dressed. But stay in this room. Can you do that for me?”
She hesitated but nodded quickly. DA jumped off the bed and barked at the door, jumping against it as if he were trying to knock it down.
He double-checked the chamber of his weapon, making sure one was ready before moving to the door and inserting a knee in front of DA. “Heel.” Then, he opened the door, taking care to do so in case the hinges creaked. They didn’t.
“Heel,” he commanded then began to move down the stairs, DA flush at his side. The cool air caused his breath to pump in front of his face in white circles. Way colder than it was when they went to sleep.
A low rumbling sounded from the clinic, and he tried to identify why it sounded familiar. At the bottom of the stairs, he crept around the corner, popping out once then coming back to make sure it was clear.
“Shit!” He ran out into the hallway. DA started barking like a crazy person was at his heels, hackles raised, but Chris only had eyes for the very small, but dangerous fire spreading across the clinic. He rushed to the phone, kept his M9 raised, and scanned the room with his eyes, but hit 9-1-1 on the phone, giving instructions to the operator who picked up half a ring later.
Seeing he was the only person in the room, he pushed his gun in the back of his waistband and called for Samantha. “Red!” he yelled. “I need you down here, now!”
He turned and searched beneath the counter, looking for an extinguisher, something to stop this fire from spreading. If he didn’t find one quick, he’d have to drag her out the front door, and she’d lose her entire clinic.
“Oh, my God,” she exclaimed. “Chris!”
“Here,” he said. “Where is your fire extinguisher?”
No sooner than he asked did the overhead sprinklers kick on, drenching them all in under five seconds. Sirens sounded from outside, the wail of them louder due to the wall of broken glass.
Samantha grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall hidden behind a large cabinet. He took it from her and began to douse the already depleting fire. The loud wail of a siren stopped directly in front of the store and he stopped the extinguisher. “Red, take DA upstairs.”
She turned to him with wide eyes, her expression stricken. Shit.
He cupped the side of her face. “Sweetheart,” he said and dropped his face to hers. “Take Delta Alpha upstairs, yeah? He’s going to get pretty freaked with everyone coming in pretty shortly. He needs you to take care of him.”
That snapped her out of it. She blinked and turned to DA, calling him to her side and leading him upstairs.
Moving to the front door, he unlocked it as the first firefighter walked up. A Crown Vic pulled up next to the trucks and Dwayne stepped out, his eyes on Chris. He walked up as several more firemen stepped inside, bodies decked out in full gear. The water overhead stopped seconds later, and he looked over to see the fire extinguished. They were lucky the fire had been small and centered on one side of the clinic. But it was doubtful Samantha would be able to open for a few days. This situation would break her heart. His fist tightened at his side.
Dwayne stopped at the entry of the shop and looked at Chris. “I’ve been patient enough, but I think it’s about time we have a chat.”
Chris thinned his lips and nodded. “Not here. Not now. Let me get Red and DA situated first. My cabin, an hour, two?”
Dwayne nodded but didn’t leave. He simply turned and stood like a sentry, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning the street. His backup.
Chris couldn’t have been more grateful.
****
Ninety minutes later, Chris opened the door to Charlie, Brooke, Hailey, and Dwayne. The three women looked as if they’d been dragged out of bed, each wearing the same uniform of black track pants and white t-shirts, hair piled on top of their heads in that messy-do women usually perfected without trying, no makeup, eyes red and tired.
The side of his mouth kicked up at the sight, but before he could tell them all to go back to bed, Charlie raised a hand. “Don’t start. I heard everything over the radio, and since Trent is out of town, I couldn’t sleep. I inserted myself into this little pow-wow, and these two”—she pointed at Hails and Brooke—“never listen to a single thing D says, and I don’t fight them on it because it’s amusing to watch him get riled. Now…” She clapped her hands and looked around, acting nosey as ever, not that he’d ever known her as anything else. “Where’s the coffee?”
Chris smiled indulgently and motioned toward the kitchen. He turned amused eyes to Brooke and Hailey, leaning down to accept a kiss from each before tilting his head toward the back porch with Dwayne.
“Preciosa,” Dwayne said to Brooke. “I’m going to go out back with Chris. How about you and Hails check in on Doc?”
Both women nodded and walked off toward the back of the house, gaits moving in sync as if they were twins. Chris shook his head at the wonderment then led D out back. The air nipped at his exposed skin and he shivered, casting a quick glance at Charlie as she stepped out back, the coffee mug sending off waves of steam in
her hands.
“So,” he said and rubbed his hands together, giving a quick blow of warm air to his fingers, “there’s a lot I can’t tell you, and it’s classified so don’t push on that, please, but it seems as if we have a problem.”
Dwayne leaned against the side of the house and leveled his gaze on Chris, then took a deep breath and nodded. “Hit me.”
Chris laid out what he could. From a mission gone wrong, forgoing any details on exactly why they were there to take Tayseer, or even the subject’s name. As much as he hated it, all of it was classified information that if he told them, it could cause some serious harm to all. He went through what had happened, when DA bit Tayseer, the following fire fight, his feelings and observations since he’d been home, and his suspicions of just where the subject of his mission currently was. By the time he’d finished, both Dwayne’s and Charlie’s eyes and bodies were as alert. He used to have the same look right before a mission.
“Are you sure?” Charlie asked, holding her mug by its handle, the contents long gone. Her dark gaze also looked more alert, any signs of sleep long gone.
Chris nodded. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“Christ, Chris,” Dwayne said.
“Sorry, bro, but it’s the truth. There’s not a single doubt in my mind that he’s here. Why? I’m not certain. But any way you look at it, it’s bad news. If he’s managed to track me specifically back here, then it’s even worse news than we thought. Who knows what that mole had his or her hands on.”
Dwayne rubbed a hand down his face, grabbing at his chin before he refocused. “So, what now? Anyone have any plans or next steps?”
“My team should arrive in the next day or so. Once they get here, we should know more of what we need to do. Until then, I just need to keep alert and try to keep everyone I can safe.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers long-gone numb, but shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for what else to do. There really wasn’t anyone to call as he didn’t know who outside of his team and his brothers he could trust. Seeing as there had been a mole in one of the most highly classified operations had his trust in others at a complete minimum.
“We’ll all work to keep everyone safe here, C-man,” Charlie said, resorting back to his childhood nickname. “You’re not alone in this anymore. You are allowed to lean on us for assistance, you know.”
The side of his mouth kicked up in a grin and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her in close and resting his chin atop her head. She smelled as she always had, like sunshine and determination. Tonight was no different. And she was right. He did have others to depend on now. Working toward allowing them to help would take some work. “I gotcha, kid. I’m trying.”
She mock-punched him in the kidney and leaned her upper body back to look at him. “Try harder.”
He cupped the side of her face, feeling the old and very familiar love for someone he’d always considered a kid sister, no matter blood or not. She’d always been there, and he had no doubt she always would be. “I’ve missed you. You know that, right?”
She blinked a few times and cleared her throat, then wrapped her arms back around him again.
“Oh, God,” Dwayne said next to him. “This shit is getting way too mushy. I’m about to throw up in my mouth. Matter of fact, I think I just did. Urp.”
Charlie twisted her face to Dwayne, still resting against his chest. “I don’t want any lip from you!”
D grinned at her and rubbed the top of her head. She punched Dwayne in the stomach, this punch not so mockingly. Chris grinned at both of them then turned to the sliding glass doors and met the beautiful and worried gaze of Samantha. A crease had set up residence between her brows, and lines of wrinkles from her scrunched face had formed on her forehead. She turned from him before he could lift a hand or acknowledge her presence.
He tilted his head, wondering what that was about.
“All right, I’m going to head back down and get these girls in bed,” D said.
“Women! We’re women, you asshat!”
Dwayne lifted a brow. “With a mouth like that, of course you are.”
Apparently, Charlie didn’t appreciate the sarcasm for she took a swipe at D that he dodged, laughing.
They tumbled into the house, Chris following with laughter in his chest. Such a foreign feeling and sound, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed with such ease. He’d been away from home for way too long.
Fifteen minutes later, he pushed his front door shut and locked the deadbolt. Running on a few hours of sleep, his back protested all the standing he had done that day, or the previous day, seeing as it was three in the morning. His head pounded out a fierce beat, too. He stopped by the bathroom and opened the cabinet for the Advil. Samantha had already unpacked a few items, her toothbrush and toothpaste, and what looked like facial cleaner. He liked the look of her stuff in his space. Warmth settled in his stomach at seeing it there. Yet another unfamiliar feeling moving through him.
He tossed back a few Advil then took some water in his cupped hand to help the pills down. He went to shut the cabinet then stopped, his eyes arrested on his bottle of Oxy. Had he taken so many of those since he’d been home? The bottle was half-full, but for the life of him, he swore he’d only taken one or two.
He scratched the back of his head, making a note to pay more attention to how many pills he popped in the next few days, then went in search of Samantha.
He found her in his room. There was really no other place for her to be, seeing as this room was the only one with a set-up bed. She sat half-underneath the dark-blue quilt his mother had made for him over fifteen years ago. She’d pulled her hair on top of her head like it’d been with Brooke, Charlie, and Hailey. She wore a white camisole with small pink flowers dotted haphazardly.
She looked up, her hands rubbing lotion on her arms. “I’ll be out of your hair in a sec, Chris. I was just taking a breather.”
“Not in my way, sweetheart,” he said then walked over to his dresser to grab his pajama bottoms. Typically, he slept in boxers, but this situation was kind of weird, and he had the naughty feeling like he’d snuck his girlfriend into his parents’ house. He’d never invited a woman up to his cabin, and while he was a grown adult now, everything about this was new to him.
He spied DA in the corner and bent to give him a good rubdown.
“Do you have an extra blanket and pillow?”
Chris looked over his shoulder. Her shorts were bright pink, and standing in front of the soft, yellow glow of the lamp, he had to take a moment to swallow before he responded. “Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “Not entirely. I was going to go sleep on the couch. It’s a little chillier out there.”
He frowned, standing and turning toward her. “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
She bit her lip and turned her face away. “I want to sleep on the couch.”
“Sam,” he called. When she didn’t answer, he took a step toward her. “Red, look at me.”
She did.
“Why do you want to sleep on the couch, especially when not just a few hours ago we were both sleeping in the same bed?”
She sighed. “I don’t want to play any games right now. I’m too tired.”
He took another step, then another, until he stood not a foot away from her. “Are you going to explain what you mean by that?”
“Stop it,” she said, her voice a harsh whisper.
“What the fuck, Red? Stop what? Are you going to explain yourself?”
She crossed her arms, wrapping her palms around her upper biceps. The move pushed her unbound breasts up, daring his eyes to take a peek. He forced his gaze to hold hers.
“Please get me a blanket.”
“No. Seriously, what is this?”
“Fine,” she said and turned to leave. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back, stepping into her and pushing her against the wall. She let out a yelp, her eyes wide, and lifted a hand in front of her
face.
As if he was going to hit her…
What the fuck?
He immediately let go and stepped back until there was so much space between them, he didn’t think he’d ever reach her. Why had she cowered as if he would hit her? What in the hell was going on?
She trembled, pressed against the wall, looking over at him. Her arm slowly lowered and still, she didn’t say anything. A million thoughts ran through his head, all of them making no sense. Many of them making him want to find whoever had put that fear in her, so he could beat the hell out of them.
He took a deep breath, then another. When his pulse had slowed enough to where he could speak, he tried to use a calm, low tone. “What was that?”
She straightened her shoulders, still pressed against the wall. Acting as if she didn’t want to be vulnerable and give him her back. Like he’d attack her. Fuck.
“I overreacted. You just took me by surprise.”
He took a step toward her and held out his hands, palms facing her. “That wasn’t an overreaction. That was instinct. Did somebody”—he swallowed—“did somebody hurt you, Sam?”
She didn’t move. Confirmation enough.
“I would never, ever hurt you, you have to believe that. I’ve never raised my hand toward a woman, nor do I ever plan to.”
She still said nothing. But she also didn’t bolt from the room, as he suspected she’d wanted to a few minutes earlier. He tried again and took another step toward her. “I’m not him, Red. I will never be him. You’re safe with me. You’re safe here.”
“Am I, though?” she asked so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.
“Yes.”
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t think I am. Not after tonight.”
He hadn’t realized he moved until he scooped her in his arms and blessed mercy, her body plastered along the length of his. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m sorry I scared you, Red.”