Sweet Affliction [Sweet Awakenings 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Nicole Morgan

  Placing a kiss to the top of her head he whispered so quietly he barely heard it himself. “I love you, AJ.”

  Chapter 31

  AJ opened her eyes to a dark room. With no windows in the underground hideaway she had no idea what time it was. Nick wasn’t in bed with her. She reached over to his pillow, and the fabric felt cool. Had he left without even saying good-bye to her? A panic rose in her, and she bolted from the bed.

  A second later the door from the bathroom opened and out he walked with a towel around his waist. “Jesus, AJ, what’s wrong? You’re white as a sheet.”

  “I thought…” She crossed her arms to try to stop her hands from shaking.

  He let out a sigh. “You thought I left.”

  All she could do was nod in answer. She wasn’t ready for this. No matter how many times they explained the plan and went over the details last night, she wasn’t prepared. She didn’t want him to leave. She just found him. He’d already almost died twice, first from a bullet wound and then from an infection.

  “Come here.”

  Nick wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was so warming. His larger body towered over hers and surrounded her. This is when she felt the safest, like nothing could go wrong.

  “I’m sorry. I am.” She looked up at him, wondering if there was any way she could make him understand. “I’m just scared. I just lost my dad. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

  He dropped his forehead against hers. “Yet, huh? You got a calendar date on how long it will be when you’ll finally be tired of me?”

  She gave him a half-hearted smile. “You know what I mean.”

  “I know. I also know that everything is going to be okay. We have to do this. It has to be settled once and for all. With Broderick being out now, he could come after us at any time. If we don’t take action we could be running and looking over our shoulder at every turn. This guy’s a bad dude. He didn’t bat an eyelash when he risked his own men’s lives all those years ago, yet he blames those he betrayed. We have to do this.”

  She listened to his words. She also knew everything he said was true. It was just the thought that something might happen to him that shook her to her core.

  “I know you do.” She curled herself back into his embrace, snuggling against his chest. “But if you get yourself hurt, I swear I’ll...”

  “Oh threatening me, huh? You’ll what?”

  “I’ll be heartbroken.” She blinked and felt a tear fall and land on his chest.

  “Hey now…no tears. I already told you last night that I was going to be fine. I’ve been doing this kind of thing for twenty years. This is a walk in the park.”

  A walk in the park. Sure. She knew he was trying to say all the right things to reassure her, but she couldn’t help but worry. Until this was over she wouldn’t feel safe. Not just for herself, but for him.

  * * * *

  An hour later they all said their good-byes. Shelby locked the door after the men headed up the stairs. Their instructions were to remain in that basement and not even think of leaving unless it was with one of them. If something went wrong, they were to trust no one. Only the four men.

  All four of them looked at one another, none of them sure of what to say. They were all worried in their own way. Tamara had her son to think about as well. In that moment no differences separated them. They were connected by his horrible situation they had been thrown into by a mad man who was seeking vengeance against those who he’d already wronged once.

  The world was turning insane. She just hoped and prayed that somewhere amidst the craziness of it all she would be able to find her happily ever after. What she wished for even more was that she got to have that dream with Nick.

  Chapter 32

  Nick gave a firm tug on the translucent wire, making sure there was no slack. When he was confident it was snug he wrapped it around the bolt they’d screwed into the floor joist. Then he attached the remaining length to the trigger of the rifle. It was an old-style booby trap but one that had never failed him.

  Jack had already unlocked the front door and made it accessible for Adam to enter. If these mercenaries were as good as he remembered they wouldn’t come traipsing in the front door with guns blazing. They would use the back entrance to try and surprise their intended targets.

  Nick and Jack both had two flash bang explosives in their vests. The tiny bombs would trigger a loud popping sound along with a blinding light to anyone in their vicinity. The entire house was dark anyway, which would give them added effect.

  By the time Rex arrived they had already hidden several small hand guns around the various rooms should any of them become disarmed or run into any problems. The first rule in these types of situations was to be prepared for anything. Expecting the unexpected was something instilled in them in all of their training. The Navy SEAL motto, The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday was not a keen play on words but an actual fact. Today and tomorrow always brought new challenges, things they wouldn’t be able to anticipate. All they could do was prepare for every possibility and hope they were able to adapt and overcome.

  Jack finished loading the AK-47s they’d obtained from their friendly neighborhood gun runner, Mr. Johnson. While Nick and Rex checked and rechecked their Steyr 9mms to make sure they weren’t jamming up, Jack made a final check of the basement door. Between the four of them they had four AK-47s, five hand guns, four flash bangs, and a rifle. They were ready to defend themselves and take these guys down, but the girls weren’t trained for this. None of them said it aloud, but aside from saving their collective asses and putting that prick Broderick back in jail where he belonged, their main focus was protecting those women downstairs.

  They were good to go and everything was set. All they could do now was wait for Adam to lure the flies into the web. The ambush they’d prepared was their only chance to end this because if this didn’t work, that would mean the mercenaries hired to kill them succeeded. That simply wasn’t an option.

  * * * *

  When Adam arrived at the hotel he parked, ignoring the no-parking sign. He kept his sunglasses on and made cursory glances around the lobby while he waited for the front-desk clerk to finish his paperwork. He did his best to hurry the process along, urging the clerk by saying he was in a hurry to catch a flight. In a matter of minutes he’d checked them out of all three rooms and had everything charged to his credit card. On the off chance he wasn’t being watched but his accounts were he wanted to leave a trail for the pricks to follow.

  Now on the road for the last ten minutes he continually checked his rearview and side mirrors for signs he was being followed. No one stood out to him when he was at the hotel. Everyone seemed to be focused on their own newspapers or conversations. When he returned to the SUV he saw nothing suspicious in the parking lot either. The fact that he could find no signs of being watched or followed didn’t sit well with him. He found it hard to believe that they weren’t lying in wait for him. These mercenary types only got their payment for services rendered after the job was done. He imagined the price on their head was pretty steep. It made too much sense for them to be waiting for him.

  So why didn’t he see anybody? There was always the possibility that he was out of practice. That his years off the teams had made his awareness skill rusty, but he dismissed that theory. The training he received wasn’t the kind you just forgot. What worried him was that maybe these guys were so good that even luring them to a trap would be tricky.

  He reached for the phone to check in with the others. Before he could dial the car behind him switched lanes, revealing an innocuous sedan with four men in it. They were all wearing long-sleeved black shirts and knit caps on their head, the same types that could be pulled quickly over someone’s face to disguise their identity. It reminded him of the ones they wore in the teams.

  He glanced at the thermostat on the dashboard. It was ninety-three degrees, and his short time outside told him there was no breeze. Not exactly the type of weather one wou
ld wear knit caps and long-sleeved shirts in. Even he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He would be the only one not wearing a Kevlar vest and appropriate cargo pants to store ammunition. As it was he was the only one who wouldn’t be prepared for battle. He had a Steyr 9mm next to him on the seat, but if he was somehow ambushed and all four of them came at him with any sort of heavy artillery he was only one man and could only fire so many rounds before they’d be able to pelt him with bullets. This was of course a part of the plan he left out when he spoke with Chelsea. As it was she was worried enough. The last thing he wanted her to know was all the different ways that things could go wrong.

  Last night when they were in that room, all he could do was show her with his body that everything would be all right and he’d return to her. He was never good with words. Finding Chelsea had saved him, and every day was a struggle for him to be normal. He was rough around the edges and didn’t know how to be soft and gentle. It still amazed him she found the daily patience to deal with him and his moods. He knew he was damn lucky that she did. When words escaped him, he showed her in different ways. It may not be the perfect way, but it was his way and a way she accepted.

  His phone rang and deterred him from his thoughts. “Yeah?”

  “You got ’em?” Jack asked.

  “Affirmative. Looks to be four of them. They’re trailing me in a black sedan. They’re already suited up and ready to take us out. My guess is they’ve got a stockpile of weapons in the truck as well as ones at the ready. Not sure where they were, but I only just spotted them.”

  “Nick says the ones that came after him and Tom looked to be South American.”

  “Copy that. These are the guys then. Definitely South American, probably rebels who were recruited because of their skill.”

  “Their skill? What aren’t you saying?” he asked further.

  “These guys looked to be suited up for a mission. Mercenaries or not, these guys are trained. I know that. They’re not going in unprepared. They’re suited up and mission ready. Whoever Broderick hired, he paid top dollar to do it.”

  “We’ll be ready. Everything is set. What’s your ETA?”

  “Another ten minutes tops. You guys sure you’re ready? I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about this. These guys are professionals, went undetected by me at the hotel and for most of my drive. When I get there, we may barely have only a few seconds before all hell breaks loose.”

  “We’re ready, Adam. We got this. We’ve seen worse shit than four mercenaries on a kill mission,” Jack assured him.

  “Yeah. I know. I’ll be fine, just got to get my head straight. I was thinking about Chelsea. I promised her this would work.”

  It was strange that he was able to admit to Jack what he was feeling. He normally didn’t even admit those kinds of things to himself. Nothing he was saying was untrue. He made Chelsea a promise. Breaking that promise to her was not an option.

  “Then get your ass back here. Hightail your ass in this house and be ready with your Steyr. I’ll have an AK-47 waiting for you and ready to take aim with when you run in. We got this. No way in hell is that fuck Broderick going to win.”

  “Copy that, brother. See you in ten.” He ended the call and switched lanes to take the exit off the highway.

  “Stay in the basement, baby. Stay safe. It will all be over soon.” He spoke aloud even though no one was there to hear him.

  He looked at his wedding ring. It was gleaming at him in the sunlight, a reminder that he had so much to live for.

  Turning up the windy Hollywood Hills road, he knew he’d be at the house in less than five minutes. In a matter of minutes they’d either end a nightmare or his wife would be forced to face a new one. His death.

  Glancing at the men in the rearview mirror, he muttered, “Come and get me assholes.”

  Chapter 33

  Nick was ducked down low behind the kitchen counter. His side burned from the position he was in. He hadn’t been exactly honest with AJ the night before. His side was killing him, and he felt the effects of a fever taking shape. He hadn’t exactly been kind to his recovering wound, and it was starting to fight back. When this was all over with he was going to have to hit the ER for a quick shot of penicillin and get checked out. He didn’t come this far to die from infection.

  Jack was hunkered down behind a chair in the living room, his head covered by an old and dirty afghan, while Rex was hiding in the closet just by the front door. There had been silence among them for the past two minutes. They knew at any moment Adam would return and it was time to do the tango takedown. He breathed in deep when a sharp shooting pain shot through his side. The sound of tires on gravel redirected his focus. Adam was back and it was go time.

  Adam flew through the front door and slammed it shut. Jack tossed him the AK-47 that was loaded and ready to go as Adam raced through the living room to take position on the other side of the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room.

  “We’ve got sixty seconds at the most. They’re coming in hot. They picked up their pace the last couple miles. Didn’t even try to hide the fact they were following me. They’re hungry for this.” Adam barely finished talking when the front door flew open.

  Nick didn’t hesitate. He took the flash bang out of his pocket and threw it by the front door. The others knew it was coming the second someone set foot inside the house so they all covered their eyes and turned away. The loud bang and blinding light did its job. The man who was foolish enough to come in first fell backward onto the front porch. Panicked voices shouted from outside in broken English. From the three men left standing and conscious it seemed mercenary number one thought glory would be his behind door number one and went in thinking he’d find his targets sitting on the couch watching a football game.

  After several shouts and the sound of car doors slamming the outside went silent. Number one was still unconscious on the porch, but he didn’t expect that to last long. Nor did he anticipate the guy would just wake up and give them warning. They had to be prepared for the possibility that he was playing possum.

  A small creak sounded from one of the back bedrooms. Jack had the clearest vantage point out of all them from where he sat. The hallway that led to those bedrooms was directly in his line of sight. He peeked around the top of the counter and couldn’t even see Jack, but a centimeter of the barrel of his AK poked through one of the afghan’s holes.

  A second sound came from the bathroom off the kitchen. If someone came out of that room Adam would be a sitting duck. He made eye contact with Adam to make sure he heard it, too. His nod told him that he was aware and ready to take aim.

  They all stayed in their positions, so quiet that he couldn’t even hear their breathing. He wiped his brow. No longer did he feel the onset of a fever. It was there. His hands were a bit unsteady, and he felt his clothes being soaked by his perspiration. This wasn’t the time to become weak and have a shaky trigger finger. Not when his brothers’ lives depended on it. He steeled his nerves and remembered all those years of training, everything he ever learned in BUD/S about mind over matter. Another stabbing pain shot through his side, and he grit his teeth against the pain of it.

  Another creek sounded from the back bedroom. Whoever it was, he was doing his best to be silent, but the old house proved to be too telling for such maneuvers.

  POP. POP. POP. Three bullets shot from Jack’s AK through the hole of the blanket he laid under. A loud thud followed a second later. He figured the men would be wearing Kevlar vests to protect themselves, but knowing Jack he hadn’t aimed for their chest. The other three would have to assume the guy was dead, but only Jack knew the answer. They couldn’t talk to one another and give away their locations. There were still three to contend with. Even though one of them was unconscious, he was still just as much a threat as the rest of them.

  Another blinding pain rocketed through his side. He repositioned himself, but it did nothing to alleviate it. Looking up, he prayed that God not fai
l him now. Not after all he’d been through. He needed strength to get through this. He couldn’t leave his brothers to fight alone while he passed out.

  Another sound came from the bathroom. This time it was distinguishable. Someone must have been trying to climb through the window without alerting them of their presence. He had to shake his head. It was disappointing that these guys underestimated them. Even though three of them were out, they were after all Navy SEALs, not exactly morons when it came to infiltration.

  The door handle turned. He was only a couple feet from the bathroom. He motioned to Adam to take cover. This was going to have to be his shot. He was in the best position, and if he waited for Adam to take it, it may be too late.

  The door opened an inch, but he saw no one. Then slowly it opened more. Finally he caught sight of the man’s leg. He must have been peeking from a different vantage point to the kitchen, but if there was one thing Nick knew about guns and bullets, they were no friends to the knee cap. He took his Steyr 9mm out of his vest and took aim. His hands were shaky. He bit back against the pain and fever and squeezed the trigger.

  Thank God, he thought to himself. His training won the battle with his physical state. A scream sounded from the man. He dropped his gun and went down on the floor as the door swung open.

  Adam gave him a look of concern. He obviously didn’t miss Nick’s relief that he actually made the shot. He motioned for him to get down, and he fired at the man.

  POP. POP. POP. POP. Adam fired four rounds and placed his gun back at the ready toward the front door but not before giving Nick the affirmative head nod that the guy was no longer a threat. Two were down, and two remained. Again they sat in silence.

  Several minutes passed with no sounds. Nick’s head was starting to pound. His fever was worse, his hands were more unsteady than steady, and he felt like his body was having an internal debate between whether or not to puke or pass out. He shook his head and blinked his eyes several times, willing the pain away so he could go on.