by Sheila Kell
Shifting, she saw his eyes half open, hooded, and she placed her lips on his and outlined his bottom lip with her tongue, tugging on it with her teeth, teasing him as she whispered his name.
“You feel so damn good. Just like I knew you would, Em.”
Her heart filled with joy. He may have mumbled, but it was her name on his lips. Goose bumps burst forth on her flesh.
Mumbling something new, he shifted his position, driving deeper and deeper, overwhelming her senses, and confining all her need in one place, ready to explode.
Her breath caught in her chest as she reached the brink, spiraling out of control. The immense orgasm ripped through her body and soul, carrying her away on a cloud of bliss, leaving her sated and weightless, a limp, rag doll draped atop him.
“Fuck!” He pumped into her a few more times and then shuddered and groaned as she felt him release himself inside her.
A moan brought her head up, but the darkness had returned, preventing her from seeing his face. She knew making love with Jake would be incredible. “Jake.”
“Mm.” He pulled her closer to him, tucking her against his chest with a possessive arm. “You’re mine now.”
With thoughts of their wedding playing in her head, Emily fell asleep wishing she could stay together like this forever.
A loud noise jarred her awake to the early morning light filtering through the curtains. She opened her eyes and smiled, remembering she’d spent the most glorious night with Jake.
“You bastard!”
Emily jerked her head to the booming noise and bolted upright in bed, belatedly grasping the sheet to cover her chest. Oh God. “AJ!”
Sitting beside her, Jake’s bewildered look at seeing her, and then his wide-eyed surprise when he noticed they were naked, brought reality crashing down around her. He hadn’t been awake, or at least not fully awake. But he’d cried my name and told me to stay. He’d said I was his. She paused, struggling to hold on to her emotions. Maybe he regretted sleeping with me.
Tears pricked her eyes, and despair weaved its way through her heart. This could not be happening. Her brother was ruining everything.
At AJ’s approach, Jake jumped from the bed, quickly stepping into his pants. He stood, and she waited for him to tell her brother to mind his own business, but AJ plowed his fist into Jake’s jaw before he could speak. Panic rushed through her. No. No. No. This is not how things were supposed to happen. She was to wake to Jake’s handsome face while he whispered sweet nothings to her, and they made plans for their life together. Heck, he’d taken her virginity. That was what went next.
Rubbing his jaw, Jake looked at her once again and drew in his eyebrows, confusion written all over his face. Sorrow swam into his eyes and it shot right to her heart. He opened his mouth to speak to her, but instead, a loud breath escaped him, and he doubled over after he received a punch to the gut.
Emily jumped from the bed and wrapped the sheet around her. “AJ, no! Stop!”
“Stay out of this, Em. This son of a bitch has gone too far.” Several punches followed that statement, all from AJ to Jake. He wasn’t fighting back. He just stood there taking the beating.
Tears streamed down her face; her stomach had soured, ready to toss everything. She pushed past AJ and threw herself over Jake, who lay on the floor, bleeding. She screamed at her brother again, “How could you? This is not your business, AJ. I love him.”
He scowled at her and then looked back at Jake while rubbing his hand. “Grab your shit and get the fuck out of our house and never return, or I’ll tell Dad that you tricked Em.”
She’d never heard her brother sound so angry. “I’m eighteen, AJ, and he didn’t trick me or force me. I came to him.”
AJ turned on her. “I don’t give a fuck! Come on, we’re leaving.” He reached for her, and she jerked away.
“Dammit, Em! Get away from him.” His strong arms pulled her upright.
She cried out for Jake, but he remained quiet, only looking at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. Fighting her brother every step of the way out the door, she continued to rant at him for butting in and at Jake to not leave without her.
AJ hurried her into her room and blocked the door so she couldn’t exit.
“Get out of my way.”
“No. Emily, I’m sorry, but this is for the best.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Christ!”
“Best? Best for who? You? Because it certainly isn’t best for me.” He’d always teased her about her crush on Jake. Why couldn’t he understand? She was old enough now for her brothers to leave her alone to let her live her life.
The slam of the front door shocked her.
She raced to the window and flung it open. “Jake!”
He looked up for a moment, then entered his car and drove away.
With a shaky hand, she covered her mouth and dropped on her bed. “No.”
Sobs erupted from deep within her, tremors of despair flowing in her veins as she murmured his name.
Jake had left her.
One
Four Years Later
JAKE CAVANAUGH WONDERED if it was true that one’s life flashed before their eyes moments before they died, but he hadn’t planned on finding out the answer this early in his life. He had to find another escape option, or the next morning, he would be murdered by terrorists in a gruesome fashion, so they could brag to the world that they had outsmarted America.
“Oomph.” He tried not to show how painful the punches to his gut affected him, but he had yet to recover from the torture he’d received regularly over the past few months. Each strike shot severe bolts through his already broken-down body, radiating through each muscle, each body part, with an excruciating intensity. He hung with his arms in chains above his head, his feet high enough off the floor so even his toes couldn’t touch the concrete. He remained trapped while the leader took his fists to Jake’s stomach.
“Who are you really?” Mohammed bin Shakaran turned the beating over to the man who had been his guard since they’d caught him snooping. He’d realized Jake wasn’t truly one of them, that he didn’t believe in their mission and was a threat to their plan. A plan he had to get to Arthur immediately, but he couldn’t see how he’d make it in time.
The force of a solid kick connecting with his gut sent him swinging back from his attacker. Jake sucked in a deep, hissing breath between clenched teeth, and, with significant effort, he held his grunt back, barely, the hellacious pain in his body almost overwhelming him. He’d never thought he’d consider something like this, but he wished they’d beat a different part of his body. If it weren’t for the give, the swing of the chains, he had no doubt that he’d be suffering internal bleeding instead of only deep bruising.
He needed to make a jailbreak. He couldn’t allow the terrible things to happen tomorrow the way this group planned it. Lives were at stake. Needing a clear head, Jake shut his eyes and struggled to block out the white-hot pain overtaking his body and mind.
Inhaling a deep, ragged breath, Jake opened his eyes and saw a chance to free himself. His guard, Mohammed something or other—in actuality, his name was Greg Jenkins, another American, who’d turned against his country—Greg moved closer with a gleeful smile on his face. It was his turn to use his massive fists in this session. Forcing his weak, right leg to move, Jake kicked out at the man, pushing him back and off-balance, leaving Greg holding his throat where Jake’s foot had made contact. If he’d had the strength in his legs, his torturer would be breathing his last instead of only gasping for more air.
With the man temporarily out of commission, Jake worked the chains to free himself.
The leader moved within his reach and with a will of power that until that moment he had no idea he wielded, Jake lifted his shaky legs and encircled the waist of the maniac. He squeezed with all the strength he could muster, trapping the
man while continuing to work the chains. He’d almost succeeded in releasing his wrists when Greg pulled his leader free of Jake’s grasp and then proceeded to beat the shit out of Jake.
Fists rained down on him, hard and unrelenting. Skin split, ribs cracked, and Jake was sure he’d be lucky to ever reopen his eyes.
When they finally gave up on his saying anything new, they released him from his bonds. Jake crumpled to the straw-covered floor, in too much pain and agony to move to attempt another escape. He had to find the wherewithal to do it. If they’d leave him there in the barn, he could steal a horse until he could acquire a phone or any way to call in to the bureau. Although, in his current health, if he made it on the back of a horse, he’d probably end up dropping the phone and then hearing it crunch under the horse’s next step.
“Tomorrow.” The leader’s evil laugh grated on Jake’s nerves; a shiver danced down his spine with what the comment meant. “You’ll be an Internet sensation. Shame you’ll miss it.”
Miss it, my ass. I haven’t given up yet, asshole. He might not be able to move, but the night was not over. He would find a way out of here.
Unable to walk, they dragged him back to his little prison. The big burly man shoved him forward, and the sound of Jake’s knees cracking on the concrete floor reverberated in the tiny room. He bit back a groan at the sharp pain that rocketed up his legs, jarring him all the way to his molars. With determination, he fought the darkness rimming his vision, refusing to pass out, refusing to let them win. Slowly, he turned his head to face Greg, wishing the venom in his eyes could actually seep into the man’s bloodstream.
“American pig.” The man that had once been an American from Wichita, Kansas, had given up everything to believe in the fight. “You all think you’re so smart. We’ll succeed and purify the world, beginning with you.” The jihadist slammed the door to Jake’s room and locked it from the outside. The lack of retreating footsteps told him Greg stood guard. They knew he wouldn’t give up attempting to escape, no matter how weak and injured he happened to be.
Jake had no idea how long he stayed on the floor, curled into a fetal position against the pain. He somehow managed to stand and shuffled across the room and dropped on the edge of his rugged cot, placing his bruised and swollen face in his dirty hands, wincing at the pain in his wrists. Resignation attempted to overtake him, but he fought it and won. A knot wove its way to his belly, tightening with each moment he wasn’t free to warn his boss about tomorrow. This was not how things were supposed to end.
For four long years he’d worked hard to be the best undercover agent the FBI had ever known. He’d become someone he barely knew so that he could make a big difference in the world.
He shook his head, grimacing at the pain. It didn’t matter how well he’d infiltrated this group or that he’d found their plans if Mohammed bin Shakaran was to win. He scoffed, his focus drifting to a time when perhaps his need for punishment stemmed from. His best friend’s sister. Emily. He groaned at the memory.
Hell, he’d thought it was an erotic dream. The woman of his dreams. His little sprite had surprised him with her passionate responsiveness, drawing him deeper into his dream, allowing himself to push aside his reserve. If he couldn’t have her in real life, he’d be damned if he’d kick her out of his dreams.
He closed his eyes. But it hadn’t been a dream. Standing up for her is what he should’ve done. That was what he’d wanted to do, but he’d broken the Hamilton family’s trust and knew they’d never forgive him.
Then again, he wondered if she’d ever forgive him. Her devastated face haunted him, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy to regain her trust.
He caught his breath at the painful squeezing of his heart. It was too late to apologize and let the family know he loved them and appreciated their taking him into their home. He had no idea how AJ had explained his absence to everyone if he even had. All Jake knew was that he had shattered his relationship with them because of his actions and by leaving without a word. He’d acted just like his father, and they deserved better. Emily didn’t deserve to be abandoned that way, without an explanation from him, without trying to make amends.
After he’d left the only home he’d ever felt loved in, Jake had appeared on the doorstep of Arthur Hall, a family friend who was also the FBI Deputy Director. He’d recounted to Arthur what had happened, not in detail of course, and asked Arthur to help him disappear for a while. He’d planned to let things cool off and then return to repair the damage he’d caused. Jake had been expected at FBI training the next day, but couldn’t face AJ there. He’d needed time to think, to figure out what to do.
Arthur hadn’t been pleased with his actions, announcing that he should beat the hell out of Jake himself. Emily was like the daughter he’d never had, but, eventually, he’d sat with Jake discussing his options. “I have something that could work, but I’m not certain you’re ready for it.”
“I can be ready for anything.” He’d fly to the moon at this point for a quick way out of his dilemma.
He’d briefed Jake on a new group that the bureau believed was linked to a large terrorist group, but they had no proof. It was a group of refugees who had set up their own settlement of believers who wished to establish a true Islamic state. They were based on a large plot of land in the desert of Arizona, and had been extremely careful. They were law-abiding citizens, but the FBI believed the group that had formed was actually a terrorist organization. They hadn’t crossed any lines and had not, as far as the FBI could find, had any contact with other terrorist groups. That lack of evidence kept the bureau from storming the compound and breaking up the group, arresting everyone to keep them from harming Americans.
The agent who had been assigned to go undercover had broken his leg, so Arthur had been contemplating an alternate plan. The agent who’d accepted the assignment had to disappear from society with no ties to the FBI or any family or friends plus they had to pretend to believe in their Muslim leaders.
In college, Jake had specialized in Middle Eastern studies, anything Islamic, to include studying the Quran to ensure he’d be useful in the war on terrorism. He firmly believed that every person had a right to their own religious beliefs, but committing atrocities in that name was something he wanted to help defeat.
Excitement had flooded him. His reasons for wanting to disappear no longer mattered. He was a perfect fit for this assignment. “I can do this, Arthur.”
The deputy director had run his hands through his hair. “We’ll conduct your training in secret to ensure no one knows you. This is too important for any slipups or leaks.” He’d narrowed his eyes at Jake. “I won’t release you from training until I’m sure you’re ready to tackle this assignment. It has to be more for you than just wanting to disappear.”
“Arthur, even if I weren’t in my current situation, I’d want this. Give me the chance.” The thought of destroying a terrorist group and thwarting a possible plot against America fired his blood, pushing his determination to make a difference.
Arthur made a few phone calls and then Jake had been whisked away to a secluded location with only two agents who provided his FBI training and mission preparation. By not entering him into the system as an agent, a necessity in case of a system breach, and with no future activity in his own name, he wouldn’t expose his family. His cover as Jake Jenson, aka Abdullah Alim Shah, had passed through the background checks the paranoid community leader had conducted on more than one occasion.
That same damn agent who had been the initial undercover agent, Bryant, had later joined them, and when Jake had been captured, he’d thought the man would get word to their boss for a rescue. That was when he’d found out the agent was a true believer and wanted the group to succeed, leaving Jake to his fate.
He swallowed hard. It had started out with his seeking space from Emily. Little had he known, that he couldn’t immerse himself in a mission deep enough
to forget the memory of their time together. Each night it replayed in his mind, wrapping him in happiness and love.
Jake’s head popped up at the sound of voices outside his room, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Not that it mattered at this point. He couldn’t transfer any new information to the FBI unless he could get the hell out of there.
Infiltrating the group had been simple as they’d been eager to grow the community with not only Muslims but also converted Americans who weren’t afraid to live that life. After more than three years, Jake had started to believe it was just a band of overzealous jihadists who wished to live together until Judgment Day. The only thing brow raising had been the arms training that everyone had been required to complete. The leaders waved it away, stating it was so they could protect their compound from outsiders who didn’t understand their ways and wished them harm.
Finally, Jake had discovered their plans to attack numerous locations simultaneously in the U.S., to make their statement. Once it happened, the world would know America brought in a terrorist group and allowed them to live in plain sight, growing their number of followers into the hundreds while plotting against the U.S.
Jake had just discovered the plans when he’d been captured. He’d been careless, so engrossed in what he’d found, he hadn’t heard the leader sneak up behind him. Unsuccessful interrogations had turned into torture. Untrusting, they wouldn’t release him even though he’d answered their questions to what should have been satisfaction. Once he’d realized they had no plans to let him go, he’d attempted his first escape. He’d failed, but hadn’t given up and tried again and again, failing each time, but the only bright side was they hadn’t figured out he was FBI, and Bryant, keeping his own cover, hadn’t outed him, which meant one less humiliation to the bureau when they murdered him.
He snorted. Bright side? There was no damn bright side.