Unbreakable_A Section 8 Novel

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Unbreakable_A Section 8 Novel Page 12

by Stephanie Tyler


  His hand slid down her belly, into the wet heat between her thighs.

  “I’m not going to last,” she warned.

  “Good. Planning on making you come several times,” he assured her.

  She was tugging at his jeans, helping him out of them, telling him she needed him inside her.

  “I’ve got to get—”

  “Forget it. I’m on the pill. And I’ve only been with you,” she told him.

  “You’re the first in a long time, Avery. Before I left and after.”

  She spread her legs around him and took him inside her. He shuddered as he went deep and she raked her nails lightly down his arms. He locked his gaze with her as their movements got frantic, until she was coming hard with him inside her.

  It took everything not to come—not yet. He waited until she was coming down from her orgasm, pulled out and away slightly. And then he rolled her to her belly, lifted her hips and entered her again. She was still hot and wet and her body gripped him. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

  Her response was a long, low moan. Her body bowed as she moved against him. He lowered his face, licked between her shoulder blades, tasting her soap, the salt of her skin. He rutted against her and she gave back as good as she got. The night air from the open screen door settled around them, the stars glittered in the sky and he’d come home again.

  Not many people got more than one shot. He wasn’t letting this one slip through his fingers.

  • • •

  Avery traced the bruises along his cheek. She’d replaced the bandage on his split lip before she’d gotten comfortable against him again. She’d seen the contusions on his body and she realized she’d do it again—let Jem do it—if it meant ending up like this.

  “That wasn’t an act you were putting on at first, was it?” she asked quietly.

  “No, not really. Did I scare you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “You were good at that.”

  “I guess that’s some kind of compliment.” He took her hand in his. “You were pretty badass yourself.”

  “I doubt my interrogation skills will be of much use in the future.”

  “Well, no, I’m not letting you use your best technique on anyone but me,” he told her, tugging her back into his lap. “Because that was hot. For torture, of course.”

  “Of course,” she murmured.

  He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, then nipped, then licked. She shivered. “I’m so easy for you.”

  “Nothing about this is easy, baby.” He pulled back. “I never liked easy.”

  “Is that why you put yourself right back into Louisiana after you left the SEALs?”

  There wasn’t going to be any getting out of this. He’d known the interrogation wasn’t really over when he’d left that room where she and Jem had him tied. It was just taking on a different—necessary—form. “I didn’t come back to New Orleans right away. I stayed here for a while after Josie was killed.”

  “Why did you move back?”

  “To test myself. To see if I’d really been burned. I’d always have to look over my shoulder. I just wanted to know how much.”

  Avery nodded and he continued. “I wanted to be . . . close to her again. Closer to my family. And yeah, I realize how stupid that sounds.”

  “Doesn’t sound that way at all,” she said. “Mike and Andy are glad you came back. They don’t blame you.”

  “How could they not?”

  “Because it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yeah, it was. And no matter how good they were to me, how much I loved Josie, I should’ve left. Especially because of those reasons and no matter how hard they protested. I brought terrible danger to their doors. I knew it would happen, and trust me, I hated being right about that.” He paused. “And then I brought it back to you.”

  “Jem and I were the ones who kidnapped you.”

  “I went to your hotel. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “If you hadn’t, I still would’ve found you.”

  “Yeah, I bet you would’ve.”

  She traced a finger along his collarbone as he sank back into that world again. He was still close enough to taste it—dangerously so—and he expanded on what he’d told her earlier. Maybe it was an attempt to justify what he’d done, an attempt to justify Landon, to explain the man.

  Drew Landon smuggled people—but people who wanted to be smuggled, mainly criminals and their families, drug lords and the like. He’d found his niche, and it worked well with his ability to counterfeit most major IDs and documents from all kinds of agencies around the world. He was well connected and built upon that in order to become the best at what he did.

  He justified that the men and women he smuggled away from justice would eventually be caught—he was just taking their money, because someone had to. Plus, as Landon pointed out, sometimes he’d be helping out good people, those in witness protection who no longer trusted the government to keep them safe.

  Gunner had once told him he wouldn’t know any of the finer things if they bit him in the ass. He’d waited to get slapped. Put in his place.

  He’d gotten fucking kindness. He’d vandalized Landon’s place. Stolen from him. Gotten drunk. Acted like a wild kid. Acted like himself.

  Landon let him, waited him out. Gave him things he’d needed in order to help with Landon’s business. He gave him skills and an outlet—taking out bad guys.

  “There are different grades of bad. And that’s a seductive way to put it—I might be bad but I’m not hurting anyone.” Gunner shook his head, rubbed the tattoos snaking up the side of his neck. “I believed what I wanted to believe. Landon didn’t make me that person. I made me that person. I didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything. And Landon liked me that way. I’d go anywhere, do anything. Blowing shit up was my favorite thing to do. If a human trafficker was involved, even better.”

  “You were young,” Avery told him.

  “I should’ve known better.” He’d grown up in the world of shade, because no operative could ever be squarely on the side of the right. His mom tried. Once he was old enough to notice this dynamic, he’d watched her drag herself home, half distraught. By morning, the distress would be gone, the surface smoothed and calm. But Gunner knew now that under the surface, nothing ever truly settled.

  “What made you get out?”

  He laughed then. She was staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “I didn’t leave. He kicked me out and I tried to get back in. I assumed he’d had me beaten as a warning. To teach me a lesson.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Except he says he never ordered that. And he claims he didn’t touch Josie.”

  “Why call you back for that particular job?”

  “To finish what I started when I fucked up the first time. A chance to make it right. To get back in. I don’t know.” He rubbed his face. “I was out of it for eleven months. I was in love with Josie. But I missed the action. So I figured, finish the job. Prove myself, and then I could get back in. Do it in moderation. But fuck, it doesn’t work that way. And I never wanted anything to happen to Josie.”

  “I know, Gunner. No matter what, I know that.”

  “I thought I could have the best of both worlds.”

  “Sometimes you can, Gunner.”

  “I took a chance with her life. I never thought . . . If I was going to work for him, why would he . . .”

  “How did he find you?”

  “I took the SIM card from my cell phone before they destroyed it. He never canceled the phone number. It was on his account. I put it into a new phone after a couple of months and figured, if he wanted me back, he could find me. I guess he’d always planned on giving me a second chance. Guess I always wanted one. The only reason I went back this last time was because I made him promise to leave you alone.


  He closed his eyes and pictured Josie, lying on the floor. “She’d died with the phone in her hand, trying to crawl to the door. Looking for me. I didn’t get home in time. Not even close.”

  “Was it retaliation?”

  “I don’t know. To this day, I don’t goddamn know. But whether it was retaliation or random, the fact still remains that I wasn’t there. The worst thing I’ve ever done to get free from a man I hated and I did that for Josie. The night I was free, she was killed.”

  There was nothing she could say to make it better, so she didn’t even try. Instead, she pulled him closer, ran her hands over his tattooed forearms as though the images would come alive under her touch. And maybe they did, because she and Gunner were kissing and although she didn’t know how it started, she knew she didn’t want it to end.

  He couldn’t do this. Not again and not to her.

  She knows violence. Understands it.

  That didn’t mean she should be married to it.

  He heard the rawness in his voice, wanted to drown it out with alcohol until he couldn’t see straight. “When I did that fucking last job . . . It was horrible.” His face looked so pained, his neck muscles tensed, and she was sure he’d take off any second. “I can’t even . . .”

  She put her arms around him then. Shushed him. Told him not to say anything else. Somehow she had to make this all better for him. “You can tell me, Gunner. I think it’s better if you tell someone.”

  “You can’t ask me that. Take it back.”

  “No.” Avery’s voice broke. “I’ve done bad things too.”

  “You’ve done nothing close to my level.” He pulled back and stared at her. “Does it matter? I did it. And it broke me. I lost everything. The only reason I didn’t kill myself was because it hurt to stay alive. Good penance.”

  “Oh, Gunner.”

  “I was broken from the job,” he said. He’d practically crawled home after it was done, and it had been like walking on hot coals. His entire body was aching with grief already, and seeing her on the floor, with Petey, was the final fucking straw.

  “I wasn’t there for her. I couldn’t have been. I made a choice this time so you stayed safe. And that almost didn’t happen. You’re in danger just from knowing me.”

  “And I always will be,” she reminded him. “That ship has sailed. So we have to deal with it, Gunner. Together. Because if there’s going to be risk with or without you, I’d much rather be with you.”

  “Why?”

  “How can you not know? The way you helped me. Let me mourn that night in the bayou. You know me. You always have.”

  He couldn’t deny that. “You’re so strong. Didn’t need me to get that way.”

  “Maybe I need you to stay that way. Or maybe I just want you there.” She paused. “Don’t you worry about having to look over your shoulder every day for the rest of your life?”

  “You’re implying that I haven’t been doing that already,” Gunner said.

  “That’s kind of—”

  “Realistic.”

  “You know that anyone who loved you would never want you to make yourself suffer, no matter what happened,” she told him.

  He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. But Avery still had questions, legitimate ones, especially because she was now in this up to her neck.

  “Why was Landon so intent on bringing down traffickers? They don’t even tangentially interfere with any of his business. If anything, he had more in common with them than not.”

  Gunner shook his head. It was time to reveal secrets—his, Landon’s. Everything had been rolled up into a big black ball of pain and it was unraveling. Finally.

  It finally felt right.

  “Landon had his reasons. He’d been in the smuggling business forever. Born into it. And his father screwed over a trafficker on one of his jobs, although not purposely. It wasn’t even anything that led to a huge loss for the guy. And, yes, I researched it. Landon was transparent about it, but I wouldn’t have just taken his word for it. But afterward the trafficker—George Mullin—took Landon’s mother and older sister. Sold them both and Landon never saw them again. Never stopped searching. Every time I’d free people, I had their pictures, and I wore a necklace with a symbol they’d recognize.”

  “You never saw them.”

  “No. But Landon never wanted anyone’s family to go through that. And then Powell traded me in exchange for the debt he owed.”

  “Landon took you in and really felt for you. Cared for you in the way he’d hoped someone had his own mother or sister.”

  “I told you it was complicated.”

  “And that’s why it doesn’t make sense that Landon would give you a second chance and then hurt Josie.”

  “Look, he takes what he considers betrayal very seriously. He didn’t get to be where he is by not being ruthless. And he is. But there’s a part of the picture I’m missing. And it’s driving me crazy.” He stared out the window. “I think I should contact him.”

  “And say what?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  • • •

  Gunner could see the wheels in Avery’s head turning. He wasn’t surprised, but he was glad he’d been able to give her some time away.

  “Avery, we don’t have to do this,” he told her.

  “What are the options? Do we kill me off?”

  “Yes.”

  “It won’t work unless he can kill me himself.”

  “So we’ll disappear as best we can.”

  “No. If nothing else, I’m not letting you give up your life again.”

  “Maybe third time’s the charm?”

  “Maybe I won’t take that chance. Even if it all ends there, we have to finish this job,” Avery said. “I keep thinking, if we can just get rid of all our ghosts . . .”

  “We’ll be free and clear?” Gunner shook his head. “That’s no way to live. Because you’re always going to have a past. Someone who’s going to want to hurt you for what you’ve done, especially if you’ve done it right.”

  “You’re a very smart man, Gunner.” She ran a hand through his hair. “Your mom’s coloring?”

  “It shouldn’t go together, but it does. Makes disguises easy.”

  She trailed her hands over his inked arms. “But these aren’t. You had to know they’d give you away.”

  On some level, he had. Maybe he knew that once he was found again, he’d have to make a decision.

  “Will you tell me what your tattoos say about you?”

  “All of them?

  “All of them. First to last. I want to know the reasons behind each one. I want to know you better than anyone. I need that. Because you already know me.”

  He could do that for her.

  “And the scars too. Everything.”

  He thought about the long scar on his lower back. Easy to cover up, and he could probably get away with ignoring it, pretending he’d forgotten about it. But at some point, she’d notice it.

  You’re acting like she might not have already.

  “Everything,” she repeated, like she knew he was holding back.

  “You’re so much like Josie in some ways. And in others, not at all.”

  “Are those both good things?”

  “Yes,” he said softly.

  “Gunner, why all the weddings?”

  “I was trying.”

  “Trying what?”

  “To feel. They seemed to love me. I don’t know if they really did or not. And I figured, maybe I’d learn. Sounds so fucked up, doesn’t it?”

  She wound her hands through his hair. “Understandably so.”

  “I loved Josie. Was I in love with her? For what I knew about love? Maybe? I think we were a lot alike. I wanted to be as good as her. I wanted that goodne
ss to rub off on me. When being in her proximity didn’t change me or fix me . . .” He trailed off.

  “You didn’t need to be fixed, Gunner. Just shown a different way to keep doing what you like to do. You figured that out. I’m only sorry Landon used S8 to try to pull you back to somewhere you never should’ve been.”

  “I just need you safe.”

  “I will be. At first, I wondered how any of this could possibly work. I mean, look at Darius and my mom. She left when she realized what he did for a living. But her work was dangerous too.” Avery rubbed her bare arms. “Grace wants to work with Dare.”

  “And you’re okay with that.”

  “She needs training. And I think she’ll be better in support roles so Dare doesn’t lose his mind. But it seems inevitable that who you work with ends up being someone you have a lot in common with.” She looked at him. “Could you have done this kind of work and gone home to Josie?”

  “I wanted to try, but working for Landon was a lot different than working for S8.”

  “You’ve already worked with me.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I don’t trust myself. You’re not the problem—I am. The men in this group are the problem. I want to protect you, always have, always will above all else and not because you can’t do the job. It’s the way men are built.”

  “Some men.”

  “All the men in S8. The ones who’d be surrounding you,” he reminded her.

  “We’ll all find a way to be comfortable,” she said. “It’s important to all of us.”

  “Yeah, it is.” She stretched out on the sheets. “It’s been at least a week since I’ve actually slept.”

  “And I feel like trying to sleep would be futile.” She climbed onto him.

  “When you put it like that, sure.” He grinned. She loved seeing that. Over the next months, those smiles might be few and far between. But she’d take what she could get.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jem had sent Key an it’s all good message before he boarded the flight out of New Orleans. As usual, Key wouldn’t believe him and would get pissed, and that was the way Jem knew that things were fine between him and his brother.

 

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