by Claire Adams
One of the other guys had recovered enough from the beating he’d been getting to pull a gun from somewhere. As he aimed it straight at Pacey’s head, I stopped breathing. A cry met my ears, and I only knew it was my own because every pair of eyes in the room flicked over to me before the stand-off continued.
“Put down your weapons,” Dreadlocks ordered Pacey and Tugger. “Very fucking slowly, put them on the floor. All of them.”
Pacey bent down at the exact same time as Tugger, their movement still seemingly synchronized. I’d heard as much about the SEALs and their training as the next person, but I’d never seen any in action. It was awe-inspiring.
Slowly, carefully, they started pulling weapons from just about everywhere. Knives joined the guns on the floor. Followed by funny-looking tube things that looked like binoculars split in half and a couple of other things that I couldn’t name. Finally, two grenades joined each pile.
Grenades. Real-life grenades. Fucking hell…
He shrugged as he met my gaze, but his eyes were wilder than I’d ever seen them, scanning my body, searching for injury. They dropped to my wrists, and I saw his chest expand with a quick, sucked-in breath when he spotted the red bands around them.
His eyes were like a caress when they made their way back up to mine, then he snapped them to Dreadlocks, and they went cold as ice. Deathly, even. The planes of his face became all sharp edges until it looked like he’d been tempered in steel.
“If you hurt so much as another hair on her head,” Pacey said, his voice even and measured, but with an undercurrent so menacing that I felt Dreadlocks tremble slightly, “you’re signing your own death warrant.”
“Fair warning,” Tugger added, his tone matching Pacey’s. He spoke in a deep baritone befitting a man of his size, with black hair and blacker eyes. Eyes lined with small wrinkles told me that he laughed a lot, but there was no laughter now.
If not for the lines, I wouldn’t have thought he even knew how to laugh. I saw the guy holding the gun to Pacey’s head waver before strengthening his resolve and gripping the gun tighter.
“Fair warning?” Dreadlocks laughed disbelievingly from behind me, his acrid breath drifting to my nostrils. My stomach rolled, and nausea rose again. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I have a knife to the girl’s throat, and Warner has a gun to his head, and you’re issuing warnings? Go fuck yourself.”
Tugger’s eyes darted to Pacey, and I swore I saw them roll as he muttered just loudly enough for me to make out what he was saying, “What is it with the men in this town?”
Pacey shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Only those wild eyes, meeting mine every other second, gave away to me how tightly wound he was. “Dunno. They think their balls are a hell of a lot bigger than they are.”
Dreadlocks stiffened as he barked out the order to his men. “Enough of this shit. Shoot them.”
As if time itself slowed down, I saw Pacey and Tugger share a look before they spun into action. None of the other men had so much as moved a muscle before the SEALs were on them. Just then, four more guys burst through the door and Tugger used the distraction to disarm the guy closest to him, who happened to be the one holding the gun to Pacey’s head, before I could even blink.
Not knowing who these new guys were, my heart nearly stopped for a second when I didn’t know whose team they were on, but then it registered that they were dressed much the same as Pacey and Tugger and seemed to be fighting with them, not against them.
Their dance from before continued, but it was a brutal one set to a soundtrack of shouts, grunts, cracking bones, and general mayhem. I could only pray that none of the shouts of pain or cracking bones belonged to Pacey, but he and Tugger were moving too fast for me to keep track of them. So were the others.
Dreadlocks froze behind me, muttering curses as he watched the fight play out. Soon, all of his men were disarmed and either unconscious or bleeding on the ground, their weapons far out of their reach.
Pacey straightened out and collected one of his guns from the floor. He didn’t even look like he was out of breath. Tugger wasn’t breathing heavily either. Who were these guys?
If I didn’t know that Pacey had a heart of gold and a fierce protective streak that ran a mile wide, especially when it came to me, I would’ve been horrified when he raised the gun in our direction, but I did know that.
The strangest feeling of peace and calm came over me. I was still being held close to Dreadlocks’s chest, but I knew that I was saved. Safe already.
Pacey cocked his head and pointed the gun confidently. “You should know, Jeremiah, that I’m an impeccable shot. Release her right now, or I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
His eyes found mine, and he added. “You might want to close your mouth, love.”
I realized then that I was still gaping, so I snapped my mouth shut and kept my eyes on Pacey.
When his gaze flicked back to Dreadlocks, he must’ve seen that Pacey was 100 percent dead serious and supremely confident in his abilities, because not a second later, he released me and shoved me roughly toward Pacey.
In one move, Pacey grabbed my arm gently and thrust me behind him, out of harm’s way. He advanced on Dreadlocks, or Jeremiah, from what he’d called him earlier, and caught up to the coward who was trying to dash out through the kitchen.
He grabbed Jeremiah’s arm with no sign of the gentility that was present when he’d done the same to me; he lifted his arm, gun still in hand. In a split second, he had pistol-whipped Jeremiah.
The drug dealer collapsed in a dazed heap at Pacey’s feet. He glanced down at him, produced cable ties from his pocket and zipped them around Jeremiah’s wrists. It was then that I realized Tugger and the guys who’d arrived during the fight were doing the same to the other men.
They made short work of Jeremiah’s cronies, some of whom were just starting to wake up, groaning or grumbling when they came to in restraints.
Take that, losers, I felt like cheering, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I started shaking again, as badly as before, but this time out of relief instead of fear. Pacey noticed right around the time that he was finishing up with the last guy.
“Call the police,” he told Tugger, closing the distance between us. Wordlessly, he opened his arms and swept me up in them, crushing me to his broad chest and holding on tight.
The dam that had been building since I’d first opened my door to find Jeremiah on my porch finally burst and the sobs broke free, hot tears rolling over my cheeks and onto Pacey’s protective vest, where they pooled between us.
“You’re okay, love,” Pacey’s whispered soothingly, one hand stroking my back while the other tunneled into my hair. “You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
He repeated his words like they were a mantra, adding something new in between as he held me. “The police will be here soon; they’re on their way. It’s all over now.” And then, “You scared me, love. You scared me so fucking bad.”
My arms went around his waist, hugging him as close to me as I could possibly get him. His heartbeat was steady under my ear and his body hard and warm, and most of all, safe. I tried to calm down, to thank him for coming for me, but every time I tried to speak I choked up.
“Shhh, love. It’s okay. You’re okay.” I breathed in his earthy scent and desperately tried to make it erase the memory of the musty, stale smell of the room I’d been held captive in.
As if he was breathing life into me, I felt my nerves subside and my trembling quiet, but I still hung onto Pacey, and he let me. It took some time, and I was still crying, but I finally managed to speak.
“Thank you, Pacey. Thank you for saving me.”
“You rescued me first,” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head. “Cry it out, love. I’m right here.”
And that was exactly what I did.
Chapter 35
Pacey
“Come on, love. Let’s get you out of here,” I said
, tucking Juliana under my arm and loving the feel of her soft body at my side. It had been hours since the police arrived at the farmhouse, old Officer Reginald gaping and apologizing profusely and repeatedly to all of us.
We’d given our statements on the scene, then were asked to meet the police back at the station. They’d proceeded to question us for hours, apparently having been after Jeremiah Anton for years. Tugger, the boys and I were congratulated heartily, then thanked and offered handshakes.
I never let go of Juliana, not for a single second, and I wasn’t planning on letting her out of my sight anytime soon. She was struggling to keep her eyes open though, and it was time to get my girl home. After I got her checked out at the hospital.
“Are we,” Juliana yawned, raising her hand to cover her mouth and rubbing her eyes as I led her to my truck. “Sorry, are we going home yet or do we need to do something else before they let us go?”
“We’re going. They’re done with us for now.” We would come back if they needed us to, but Juliana had endured enough for one day. Reginald told me he’d be in touch and had someone bring my truck over.
“Thank God. I need to sleep for days,” she said, suppressing another yawn as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“You will,” I told her. “Right after we get you checked out at the hospital.”
She sighed and shook her head, still declining medical treatment. Just as she had been all day. “I’m fine, really. It’s only my wrists and ankles that are a little chafed. They’re superficial wounds, and nothing time and a little ointment won’t heal.”
I shot her a sidelong look as I started the truck and drove out of the police station parking lot. “Are you sure? I can get the doc to come out to my house, too.”
“Your house?” she asked.
“My house,” I insisted. “I’m bringing you to my place where I can watch over you, and protect you. Unless you have any objections?”
“I don’t,” she said, but her voice was soft and uncertain. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she looked at me curiously. “Are you sure that’s okay? I mean, you don’t have to do that.”
I reached across the cab for her hand and folded mine over it. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to, very much. If it’s okay with you, that is. If you want to go home, fine. But then we’ll need to stop at my place anyway so I can pick up some things, ‘cause in that case, I’m staying with you.”
“Your place is fine,” she said. “But I’ll need some things from home, too; I don’t even have a toothbrush.”
I raised her hand to my lips and placed a kiss on the back of it. “I’ve taken care of it. The cops let Tugger and the others go hours ago. He has keys and a clicker to my house; he and his wife picked up some basics for you and took it over.”
“You did that for me?” Her eyes were wide and so unbelievably beautiful, even in the near darkness of the cab with tired smudges underneath them.
“There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you, Jules,” and I meant every single fucking word. “I don’t want you out of my sight; not so soon.”
“I have to go to work in the morning, I can’t just stay home,” she told me, but her heart wasn’t in it. Luckily, I’d already taken care of that as well.
“I put in a call to your boss. They were worried when you didn’t show up this morning; apparently, you’ve never missed a day at work before. He was horrified when I told him what happened to you. He said to take as much time as you need and to get some rest.”
Juliana paused, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she finally spoke. “Is there anything you didn’t think of?”
I didn’t think so, but I needed to know that she was okay with it all. “Too much?”
She squeezed my hand. “No, you—you’re incredible, you know that?”
My lips quirked into a smile that I couldn’t hold back, not that I tried to. “Ditto.”
Juliana went quiet after that. Her hand was still in mine as she fell asleep. We reached my house a few minutes later, and despite every attempt not to wake her, her eyelids fluttered open when I lifted her into my arms.
“What?” she croaked and stiffened until she saw who was carrying her and relaxed against my chest. “Are we here already?”
“We are. Sleep, love. I’ll take care of you,” I promised her, wondering why I couldn’t stop calling her ‘love.’ I knew that I loved her: I was truly, madly, deeply, insanely in love with her. I’d faced that fact already, but I wasn’t a ‘term of endearment’ kind of guy, except with her. She was proving to be the exception to most of my rules, I was learning.
I set her down gently on my bed and found a pair of soft, cotton boxers and one of my favorite T- shirts, helping her change before I tucked her into my bed. It was so absolutely right seeing her there. I crawled into bed with her, holding her close to me.
“Thank you, Pacey,” she whispered, groggily. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, baby,” I whispered back, but her breathing had already evened out. I was still riled up, and though I should’ve been almost as exhausted as her, I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I watched her do it instead. Her hair fell in soft waves across her gorgeous face, her chest rising and falling gently on soft breaths.
She was perfection, this girl. Absolute fucking perfection, and she was all mine. My chest constricted as I thought about how close I’d come to losing her forever. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, actually. It was why I couldn’t sleep.
I’d never been as terrified as I’d been in that farmhouse. Never. I was so fucking scared that I could hardly see straight. I couldn’t lose another woman that I loved to random drug-related violence, and I’d come within a ball-hair breadth of that happening.
I hugged her tighter to my chest, relishing each and every goddamn breath that she took. I couldn’t believe that I’d nearly lost her. Looking down at her, it dawned on me that I couldn’t lose her. I didn’t want to spend a single day without her; I couldn’t live without her.
She’d crawled so deeply into my heart, a heart I’d thought was long dead, blacker than night, and completely impervious, that it felt like she was the half it had been needing to make it whole. And not whole again, entirely whole, for the first time.
At that moment, I realized that I was okay with that. I finally let go of the last bit of guilt I was harboring over May, and I prayed for her forgiveness. I would never forget her, but fuck it, I couldn’t fight my feelings for Juliana anymore.
Strangely, I was okay with that too.
When I finally drifted off to sleep, it was with a feeling of peace and serenity that I hadn’t felt in years. With Juliana in my arms, I slept better than I had since before my last deployment, and finally woke up when the sun was already sitting high in the sky.
My bedside clock told me it was 10:30 a.m. Fuck, when was the last time I’d slept that late?
Juliana still slept soundly beside me. At some point in the night, she had turned to face me, her arm draping around my hips and her face cuddled into my chest. I managed to gently extricate myself from her and kissed her forehead lightly before I headed to the kitchen to make her some breakfast.
While the bacon was sizzling in the pan, I found my phone and dialed the pharmacy to deliver ointment, painkillers, and some more bandages. I gave strict instructions that the delivery person not ring the doorbell and to call me instead. I wasn’t risking anything waking Juliana.
I had sausage, mushrooms, bacon, tomatoes, and a variety of other things in the warming tray, waiting for her to wake. I would make toast and eggs when she did so it would be fresh.
The pharmacy deliveryman arrived about half an hour after I called with everything I’d ordered, including flowers from the pharmacist and a Get Well Soon card with big balloons on it. News was spreading, it seemed.
I wasn’t surprised. Shit like that didn’t happen in towns like this without word getting out. Exactly which words were coming out, we’d learn soon enough, but that wasn�
��t my problem or my priority. Juliana and her health were my only concern.
Checking on her about an hour later, I found her yawning and stretching on my bed. Her eyes hit the clock as she rolled over and she sat bolt upright. “Is that really the time?”
“It is,” I told her. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” she lied, then sighed when I gave her a look. “Stiff and sore, but well-rested. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“No problem. You’re staying here as long as you want.” Please let that be forever.
She flushed the most adorable shade of pink and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. In fact, let’s get the movers to move you in here today,” I smiled at her, totally serious.
At first, she must’ve thought I was joking, because she giggled and swatted my arm. I didn’t join in, and her jaw dropped. “You want me to move in, like, for real?”
I nodded and strode over to the bed, the mattress dipping when I sat down next to her. “You don’t need to decide right now, but the offer is on the table, okay?”
“Okay,” she breathed, crawling onto my lap. She clung onto me like a koala bear. I loved it. I loved her, though I had yet to tell her so.
“We should get some food into you. I’ve made breakfast; let me go get us some. Stay here, relax.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking to the kitchen,” she protested, but I gave her a chaste kiss and bolted to the door, turning only when I reached it.
“Maybe so, but I’m also perfectly capable of bringing food to you.” So I did.
We ate in bed beside one another. While I’d cooked the eggs and toast, I remembered something I’d been wanting to ask her.
“What’s your favorite food in the morning?”
She chewed her bite, took a drink of orange juice, and turned to face me. “You mean except for a fully awesome breakfast in bed like this?”