by Anise Eden
I normally would have enjoyed having Ben stand so close behind me, but the idea of paintball made me too nervous. I’d always been horrible at athletics—team sports in particular. Also, my hand-eye coordination had never been great, which I was pretty sure would make me useless at hitting a target. The first time I took a shot, the loud noise and the kickback from the gun made me scream and jump backwards, nearly knocking Ben over. He tried valiantly to conceal the doubt that flashed across his face and encouraged me to try again. Once I managed to get off a few shots without losing my balance or injuring Ben, Randy declared me ready for battle even though I still hadn’t managed to hit any part of the target.
The paintball field was simply an area of the pine forest that had been cordoned off by white netting and fluorescent orange flags tied every ten feet or so to make it visible to hunters. Man-made obstacles of various types had been placed around the playing field, such as old farm equipment, tractor tires, and overturned workbenches. We were playing capture the flag, and a scarf with the Mercier logo was tied to a stake in the middle of the field, surrounded by twelve-foot mounds of earth.
I was on the Red Team with Ben, Kai, and Eve. Pete, Michael, Asa, and Liv made up the Blue Team. Randy led us to an opening in the netting, and as each of us walked through, he repeated, “Mask on, mask on…” One by one, we obeyed his instructions. Then he pointed the Blue Team to a shed that would be their home base, and led the rest of us across the field to another shed.
“Everybody remembers what to do if they’re hit? How to surrender? How to give someone the option to surrender if they’re at close range?” Randy quizzed us on all of the rules before leaving to give the Blue Team the same final exam. We sat around in the shed waiting for the air horn to blow, signaling the start of the game.
Ben leaned against the wall next to me. He bent down close and murmured, “If you’re too nervous, you can always hang back from the action. But you never know, you might have fun if you give it half a chance.”
I wished he could see the smirk beneath my mask. Just in case the shed was bugged, I whispered low. “I don’t want to have fun. I want to figure out what the hell is going on here and go home.”
“I know,” he said, placing his lips close to my ear and speaking so softly I could barely hear. With care, he brushed the tail of my braid back from where it had fallen over my shoulder. “But this is part of it. Playing along, showing interest, building relationships and trust. All of these things will help us get the answers we’re looking for as quickly as possible.”
“I know.” I sighed hard. Speaking in a normal tone again, I said, “It’s just that I’ve never enjoyed this kind of thing. I never even liked shoot-’em-up video games.”
Eve overheard me. “That’s because you’ve never played with me!” she said gleefully. “We’ll fix that when we get home.”
Kai’s reply was stern. “You’d better get your head in the game, Cate. If Pete gets to that flag before we do, we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Okay, okay.” Awkwardly, I adjusted all of my protective gear and hoisted my gun up against my shoulder. “I’ll try to channel Princess Leia.”
Ben’s low chuckle melted me.
“Whatever does it for you,” Kai said.
Then the air horn sounded.
“Gun socks off!” Ben barked. “Red Team, ready?”
“Ready!”
“Okay, let’s go!”
The next few minutes were a blur as we rushed out of the shed, and I tried to remember the strategy Ben had laid out. I was supposed to stay a little ways behind Eve, who claimed to have “mad sniper capabilities,” and to cover her as she picked off the opposition. But I soon lost her among the trees and found myself wandering around aimlessly while trying to get my bearings.
I heard a burst of intense gunfire to my right, so I headed that way, figuring that was where the action was. I felt ridiculous moving from tree to tree as Ben had instructed, knowing that I was about as stealthy as a rhinoceros in my protective gear and that very few of those pine trees were wide enough to conceal my bulk. There was more gunfire slightly off to my left, so I changed direction.
In the distance, I saw an old tractor that I recognized as being somewhere near the stake with the flag on it. I made my way over, then ran and crouched down behind the tractor, listening for voices, more gunfire—anything that would give me a clue as to where Eve was.
That was when I heard it. There was a single burst of gunfire, then a sharp shout followed by Ben letting flow a stream of curses I’d never heard him utter before. Without thinking, I dropped my gun and ran in the direction of his voice. “Ben!” I cried out.
“I’m hit!” Ben managed to spit out before resuming his blue streak.
Eve yelled, “Cate, what are you—”
Pow, pow, pow! Several forceful blows to my protective vest knocked me off balance. I fell onto a soft bed of pine needles. Goddammit, I thought as I scrambled back to my feet. “I’m hit, I’m hit!” I remembered to shout as I stumbled into a run, charging headlong toward Ben.
I found him sitting behind a round wooden tabletop that was partially buried in the ground. By the time I reached him, he had stopped cursing and was just moaning, holding the side of his head.
“Oh my god, what happened?” I crouched over him, trying to see what his hand was covering.
“I don’t know,” he growled. “Somebody shot me from behind.”
Pete’s voice grew quickly closer as he shouted, “Cease fire, cease fire!” I backed up as he leaned in to look at Ben. “Damn,” he exclaimed. “We better get you off the field.”
Ben must have been in pain, because he didn’t object. Pete and I helped him up, and it took him a moment to steady himself. Then, leaving our rifles behind, we walked towards the entrance, where Randy was holding the netting open for us. Once we were off the field, Ben pushed his mask up onto his forehead; we could see he was wincing in pain. Meanwhile, Pete and I removed our masks completely as we all headed toward the paintball headquarters. Randy stayed behind and gave some instructions to the remaining players, then followed us.
Pete led Ben to a stool while Randy retrieved the first aid kit. When Pete explained that he’d been a medic in the Corps, Randy let him take over. I’d never seen Ben snarl before, but he was none too pleased at the idea of letting Pete look at his injury, insisting he was fine and didn’t need any “nursing.” Pete cleverly appealed to Ben’s protective side, instructing him to look at how worried I was. I must have looked pretty bad, because Ben’s objections immediately softened.
“Now, the only way we’re gonna get the color back in Cate’s face is if you let me at least look at your damn thick head,” Pete said, then threw me a forceful glance. “Am I right?”
Obediently, I nodded. “Please let him look at it, Ben.”
Expressions of pain and irritation creased Ben’s face in equal measure. Slowly, he removed his hand from his head. Pete was standing in my line of vision, so I couldn’t see what was wrong, but I saw how gingerly he removed Ben’s mask. Someone had shot him just below and behind the ear—right where the protection of the facemask ended.
There was some cotton, some alcohol, and more cursing, although Ben tried to keep it under his breath that time. Finally, Pete gave the verdict. “I’ll give you a more thorough once-over when we get back to the lodge, but you’re gonna live. You’ll have one hell of a goose egg, though.”
Suddenly, the door to the shed swung open and three men in EMT uniforms burst in. “Medics,” their point man shouted as they all rushed towards Ben.
But before they could reach him, Pete and I both had placed ourselves between the door and where Ben was sitting. I was just stunned and wanted to find out who they were, but I could feel aggressive energy radiating from Pete. Still, his voice was calm as he said, “Hello, there. Can we help you?”
The medics looked at Pete, then at each other, appearing confused. Their point man said, “We’re here to hel
p you. We heard there was an injury.”
“I’m fine,” Ben called out. “How did you get here so fast?”
“There’s a clinic on the premises,” Point Man said. “Someone here pushed the emergency button. We move pretty fast. We brought a stretcher,” he said, gesturing to the other two men who carried it forward. “We can get you back there in no time, check you out.”
Pete held up his hand. “Don’t worry, we got this. I’m a medic, too, and I’ve looked him over. He’ll be fine.”
Point Man craned his neck, trying to look beyond Pete and me at Ben. “I’m afraid we have to take him in for an exam—Mercier policy.”
Pete clearly didn’t want these other guys to get their hands on Ben. I wasn’t sure why, but I did what I could to back him up. “Well, I’m one of the owners,” I said, “and I’m giving you permission to waive that policy this time.” I smiled and put my hand on Pete’s arm. “Pete here is a highly trained Marine Corps medic. I have every confidence in his decisions.”
Point Man scowled at me. “Nice to meet you, ma’am, but you must be new here if nobody’s explained to you yet that the policy can’t be waived.”
Randy came around from behind Ben, where he had been conspicuously silent up to that point. “Look, guys,” he said, “if anyone comes down on you, just send them to me. I’ll take the heat.”
The medics consulted with one another briefly. “All right, Randy,” Point Man said, “if you say so. I hope your man there is okay.”
“He’ll be fine, thank you,” Pete called after them as they turned and left the shed.
Once they were gone, Ben said, “Thanks, Randy. I hate medical exams—even from this one,” he said, pointing his thumb at Pete. “Two in one day would have been too much.”
Randy chuckled. “No problem—and I feel the same way.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Pete said. “They were persistent.”
“They were just doing their jobs,” Randy said. “Someone on the field must have hit the emergency button.”
“They didn’t seem impressed by my ‘I’m an owner’ speech,” I observed.
“No offense, but if they said that they waived policy because the pretty new owner told them to, it wouldn’t impress anybody,” Randy said, grinning. “What they really needed was a blame hound.”
“Oh, I see,” I said. “So once you offered yourself up, they felt free to go.”
“Well, if anyone tries to come down on you over this,” Ben said, “you send them to me and Pete, okay?”
Randy nodded. “Got it.”
Ben sucked in air and held his hand to his head as a fresh flash of pain hit.
“The shot got you right behind the ear,” Pete said. “It’s already swellin’ up, so whoever hit you must’ve been close. Did you see who it was?”
“No,” Ben grumbled.
“Well, I’m sure they’re feelin’ pretty bad about it right about now,” Pete said, gripping Ben’s shoulder and giving Randy a reassuring smile.
“That’s right,” Ben said, pulling himself together enough to realize what Pete was doing. “Accidents happen. I’m just glad you’re here, Pete, so at least I know you won’t capture the flag.”
Randy, who had been visibly tense since the incident, finally began to look more at ease. “You sure you’re all right, Ben?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I just got soft, being out of the Marines for too long.”
“Soft is right,” Pete cajoled, “but your head’s as hard as ever.”
The three of us forced a laugh, and Randy relaxed a bit more. “I should probably go check and see how the game’s going.”
“Yeah,” Pete said. “Make sure Kai hasn’t got everybody hogtied. He gets a little carried away.”
Randy gave us the thumbs-up. “Good to know. Feel free to wait here until the game is over, or you can take one of the ATVs back to the lodge.”
“Probably the latter,” Ben said. “We’ll see you later. Thanks for everything, Randy.” He stood up, and they shook hands. “It’s been a great afternoon.”
“Even with the goose egg?” Randy asked.
“Sure,” Ben said with a smile. “Reminds me that I’m alive!”
Randy said his goodbyes to Pete and me and headed out. Then we turned back to Ben, who listed slightly to one side. Pete and I each grabbed one of his arms.
“Okay, Big Dog,” Pete said, “Let’s get you back to the lodge so I can check you out properly.”
Chapter Fourteen
We took Ben to my room, where Pete gave him a thorough medical examination. He declared that Ben was all right, but told me not to let him fall asleep for a while and said he’d come back and check on him periodically. The bump on Ben’s head was large and angry-looking, but visible only when his hair was smoothed back. That was a relief to Ben, who didn’t want anyone worrying about him—including Pete and me, but that ship had sailed. After the crisis had passed, I asked Pete why he had been so dead set on keeping Mercier’s medics away from Ben.
“Somethin’ was off,” Pete grumbled. “They got there too fast, first of all. And they brought a stretcher into the shed before they even checked Ben out to see how bad it was. Then they tried to steamroll me…” He pushed his hat back and rubbed his hairline. “Maybe Randy’s right, and they were just doin’ their jobs, but my gut told me somethin’ wasn’t right.”
“They got there too fast?” I asked, my nerves set on edge. “You mean, you think they were waiting—like they knew ahead of time that Ben was going to be injured?”
Pete pushed his hat back into place. “Well, unless the clinic’s right next door to the paintball field, it sure looks suspicious.”
“It isn’t,” Ben said. “I remember seeing the clinic while we were on our tour—a small, white building with a red cross on the roof. It’s on the far side of the property.”
“But why would they do something like that?” I jumped up and began pacing the room. “What would they have to gain by hurting you?”
“Cate, it’s okay,” Ben said. “It’s just like when I was drugged. Their objective seems to be to put me out of commission or get me out of the way for a while. It looks like they’re trying to isolate you, probably so they can talk to you alone, try to manipulate you somehow. But just like before, no harm was actually done. I’m fine.”
He wasn’t fine, though. He was hurt, no matter how minor the injury. And he’d been drugged into unconsciousness, even if he’d only needed to sleep it off. “But I thought—” I covered my hands with my face.
“You thought what?” Ben asked.
I sat down on the edge of the bed next to where Ben was lying and rested my hand on his leg. “Back at the bed-and-breakfast, you said that my safety might be a concern. I never would have come, if I thought you or anybody else…” Tears choked off my words.
Pete headed out the door. “I’ll give you two a minute.”
Ben pushed himself up on his elbows. “So, what you’re saying is, you get to put yourself at risk, but no one else does?”
“Basically, yes.” I pulled my hand back into my lap and looked down. “Well, not on my behalf, anyway.”
“I see,” he said somberly. “Well, in that case, we may have a serious dilemma, because I’m in love with you, so I reserve the right to do whatever’s necessary to protect you—including putting myself at risk.”
My head snapped around. “No one is putting themselves at risk anymore, is that understood?”
I must have spoken more loudly than I’d intended, because Ben grimaced. “Believe me, I’d prefer that, as well. But sooner or later, you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that you’re dating me. And you know how hard-headed I am.” He pointed to the swelling on his head and grinned.
“That’s not funny.”
“Humor an injured man.”
“Oh for God’s sake.” He had managed to wheedle a smile out of me. “I’d better bring Pete back in here before he starts thinking we’re canoodling.”
After a while, Ben was a little steadier on his feet. We were able to meet the others in the lobby upon their return to the lodge. Given everything that had happened, it brought us great satisfaction to hear that Eve captured the flag for the Red Team, even with two of us gone. Apparently, Kai had proven to be a formidable opponent. While that came as no surprise to anyone in the MacGregor Group, Michael and Liv hadn’t been expecting Kai to be much of a challenge since it was his first time playing. That gave Kai and Eve a tactical advantage, and they were congratulated by winners and losers alike on their unexpected victory.
As for the question of who had shot Ben, no one fessed up. Publicly, Ben showed no surprise about that, saying that it must have been a stray paintball, it happened all the time, it was hard to keep track with those rapid-fire guns, et cetera. Pete played along, so by the time we all parted ways, it was with warmth and high spirits.
Once back in my room, however, Pete and Ben discussed in low tones how it was impossible that someone had shot him in the head at close range without realizing it, particularly since he had immediately started shouting and cursing. They couldn’t be sure who had done it, but Pete said that given where everyone had been positioned, his money was on Michael. Ben was inclined to agree, but they stopped discussing it when room service arrived—dinner for Ben and me, and a note from Skeet sending Ben good wishes and saying he hoped we’d be able to join the rest of them downstairs for breakfast. Ben bristled at Skeet’s presumptuousness, since Ben had been planning to have dinner in the dining room so he could show everyone how “fine” he was. But Pete pointed out that it would be rude to let the room service meal go to waste—then gently added that as a medic, he recommended Ben stay in the room for the rest of the night, “just to be safe, no point getting yourself worked up.” Pete said he’d come back later to check on Ben again, and to let us know when it was safe for him to go to sleep for the night. Until then, if Ben fell asleep, I’d have to wake him periodically to make sure his symptoms hadn’t worsened.