by J. C. Cliff
As she begins to stand up to leave, I grab her by the elbow, holding on to her with a tight grip so she can’t break free. A few heads turn around, but I give them a special glare that says ‘turn the fuck around and mind your own damn business.’ I firmly yank Valerie back down into her seat and lean in, our lips almost touching, so she’s forced to see my face.
“Look, you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, okay?” I clench my teeth, baring them, my jaw muscles flexing in aggravation. I’m just as pissed off at myself as I am with her. I promised Quinn I’d have my shit under control before I left, and I failed him. I don’t like this weakness of mine. I’m stronger than this.
“I’ve got a lot of shit on my mind too,” I tell her in a soft tone. My gut is tight as I force myself to play nice. “I’m sorry,” I gently whisper again, this time my voice much calmer and full of remorse. Because, shit, I loved her once; I’m not sure I ever stopped loving her. I hold equal parts contempt for her as I do love. She was my soul mate, my one and only.
My heart rate finally starts settling down so I can talk more calmly. “I’m just as pissed off at myself for my behavior. I’ve got a lot on my mind, which is no excuse, and you deserved none of my wrath. Please… let’s just start over, okay?” I can’t ever remember the last time I used such a compassionate and altruistic tone before. I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my side, whispering, “I don’t want to cause you any more pain. I really don’t.”
“Valerie?” I look up to see Celia standing above us, her eyes flicking back and forth between the both of us. She hones in on me with scrutiny, probably concluding I’m the cause of her friend’s tears. She’s more than likely noticing the pink handprint on my cheek too. Celia gives me an accusing glare that could shrivel any man’s dick to the size of a raisin, but I’m not any man, and when she sees that she’s not having the desired effect on me, she shifts her attention back to Valerie. “What’s going on, honey? Are you all right?”
Valerie nods her head, forcing a shaky smile. “I’m fine.” Her friend silently calls bullshit by narrowing her eyes. “Really, everything’s okay,” Valerie assures her, even though her voice is betraying her.
As if Valerie just realizes Celia doesn’t know me from Adam, and being that I have my arm around her friend, she quickly introduces us. “Umm… Celia, this is Stryker. He’s an old friend of the family’s. It’s such a small world,” she says with false wonder. “I can’t believe us running into each other like this. Stryker just told me his mother passed away recently, and I broke down, because she was not only a family friend, but one of my favorite nursing instructors when I was going to school.” Valiantly, my expression stays unreadable over Val’s bald-faced lie, and I wonder where she found the talent to become such a fast and smooth liar. Better yet, why does she feel the need to?
“Oh,” Celia says, her painted-on brows flattening out across her forehead as she tries to decide whether or not to buy the excuse. Her body language indicates she doesn’t like my arm around Val, old family friend or not. She looks as if she wants to yank us apart, but doing so at the news of my mother just passing away would make her look like a bitch. “I’m sorry,” she adds, with politeness that holds no sincerity. Turning her gaze back to Valerie, she frowns. “Well, I was just checking on you. It’s not like you to just venture off, but this explains it. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, because I heard you stifle a cry back here, but now I know why.”
Valerie sniffles then smiles and waves her off. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m okay. I’ll be back up in a little bit. I just wanted to say hello and catch up on old times, you know?” Celia nods then gives me a blatant once over, one that lets me know she already doesn’t like me, and then turns around without saying goodbye as she saunters back toward the front of the bus.
“Not the friendliest person, huh?” I ask when we’re alone again.
She shrugs then moves a piece of windswept hair from her eye from a gust of wind coming in through the open window. “She’s just concerned for me.” She looks so lost at the moment, and the protective streak in me takes over.
Taking her by surprise, I scoop Valerie’s slender frame onto my lap so she can comfortably lay her head against my chest. She doesn’t fight me, and she doesn’t hesitate to lay her cheek there. I guess she really needs to be comforted if she’s allowing me, of all people, to hold her. She must really have some demons on the inside, and that makes me sad for her.
I’m hating the back and forth love/hate shit between us; it’s giving me whiplash. What’s worse, is I’m lost on how I’m supposed to feel about her. Every time I’m around her the lines become blurred, and I forget why I’m supposed to dislike her in the first place. She’s really fucking with my head. I fold both arms around her as I tell myself I have to come to terms with this arrangement once and for all, and give in. No more fuck-ups allowed, and the sooner I accept my circumstances, the better.
“I’m sorry I was such a dick,” I murmur over her head. I press my lips against her forehead, inhaling a fragrance so subtle I could smell it all day long and never get sick of it. “I never knew you to lie before. What’s up with that?”
She shifts her head back into the crook of my arm to look up at me. “Celia wouldn’t have understood,” she quietly explains. Her delicate fingers wipe at the corners of her eyes, drying the last of her tears. “She’s very protective of me, always has been, and when my husband passed away, she became almost possessive of me.”
I arch a brow, intrigued as I gain a little insight. “How so?”
“She acts like a big sister, and lately, more like a big brother. She doesn’t like it when men come on to me or pay me any attention. I guess she doesn’t want to see me get hurt. Not that I’m ready to date anyone anyway, because at times, everything still seems so fresh. Sometimes I still find myself breaking down at the drop of a hat.” She half-laughs, but the sound is humorless. “And as often as that happens, I’d be labeled crazy. I wouldn’t be good dating material.”
I decide then if she’s going to be dating anybody, it damn well better be me. She owes us that much, even if she thinks she doesn’t. Her beautiful light brown and gold-flecked eyes glisten against the fading sun, the pain behind them very evident.
“How did you and Celia come to know each other?” I ask, for my own curiosity, and for the sake of gaining any extra intel I don’t already know.
“She was my husband's secretary for ten-plus years.” She half grins at something she’s thinking about, then tells me, “Truth be told, sometimes I think she ran his business half the time, and every bit as good. When Graham, my late husband, relocated from Georgia, he packed her up along with him the second he proposed to me. That’s how indispensable she was to him.”
I try to maintain a cool expression, but the mere thought of Valerie having another man’s ring on her finger, dead or not, pisses me off.
“Anyhow, since she was new to the area, she was always over at our house, and she and Graham worked so many long hours we couldn’t help but become close.” She sniffles again, her voice finally smoothing out.
“You never got jealous of her?”
Her forehead wrinkles as if my question was ridiculous. “No, I never did. They were like brother and sister to each other.” She goes quiet for a moment, the hum of the bus’ engine and the other passengers’ chattering filling in the silent pause. “I’d prefer it if she didn’t know about our history,” she adds, almost sheepishly.
“Oh?” I arch a brow in surprise.
“She’d just get all weird about it, and ride my tail every waking second, and I already have enough stress to contend with on this trip. Please?” she asks hopefully.
“Okay,” I agree with a frown. The secret might work to my advantage anyway, but on the other hand, wanting to keep our history under wraps stings a little, but that’s personal. I close my eyes briefly, forcing myself to accept the things I can’t change, and just go with the flow.
In a t
ender stroke, I run the backs of my fingers over her flushed cheeks, which are still pink from being upset. She nervously licks her lips, the movement of her tongue catching my eye then has me losing it. “Fuck it,” I whisper, leaning in to tenderly brush my lips against hers. I was only going for an endearing peck, but Valerie responds by darting her tongue out in a feather-light stroke, wanting access to me.
A low growl escapes my throat at the touch of her tongue on mine. This is so fucked up, the constant push and pull bullshit between us. Why do I have the hardest time resisting her? I suppose it’s because love and hate are in the ultimate battle of wills with undeniable chemistry stuck in between. I’m so screwed.
“Mmm,” she whimpers, resting her hand over my heart as she runs her tongue across mine again. Instantly, I cave and take over the kiss. Her entire body goes lax in my arms. Threading my fingers through her long hair, I cradle the base of her neck, tilting her head so I can slant my mouth over hers. All the while, our tongues twist and turn with familiarity. It’s as if six years were never wedged between us. Our bodies haven’t forgotten a damn thing; we fall right in sync.
The weight of her body squirms, her ass pressing into my hard dick. We’re going to be on this bus for hours, and I will explode in my pants if I don’t stop now. I slowly disengage, not really wanting to bring this to an end. She chases my lips, so I tease her with little love nips. Looking into her bright eyes, I can see right through to her soul. I can see she’s still the most caring, tenderhearted, and wholesome woman on the inside, and it breaks my heart to know it could all be a ruse.
“Maybe we can call a truce?” I ask softly, nipping at her bottom lip again. “Agree to nicely not get along?”
She grins against my mouth, a bit of laughter escaping her. “You always did have a way with words, didn’t you?”
I pull back and softly smile down on her. “If I was so good with words, I would’ve never lost you in the first place.” It gutted me, scarred and haunted me for years how I had to destroy the most important thing in my life in order to keep her safe.
Her smile fades, and just that quick, the magic we just shared vanishes into thin air. I’ve stupidly reminded her of our breakup. “This was a bad idea,” she starts off.
“What was a bad idea?” I tighten my hold around her and dip my head down, trying to catch her gaze. She always says this, but never tells me why. “I don’t want to hear you say that again. You’re in my lap, kissing me. Stop fighting this.”
She waves me off, her shaky hands gesturing between us. “This trip is just so hard for me on so many levels, Stryker. I’m not ready,” she whispers sadly.
I eye her a little more closely, and realize her entire body is trembling in my hold. Something more besides me has her upset. Fuck me, but I’m going to hate the emotional ups and downs of this trip. We both want to hate each other, but neither one of us is able to do so.
“What don’t you think you’re ready for?” I ask cautiously. She lifts her head and blankly stares past, out the far window. A lone tear slips from the corner of her eye and slides down over her cheek. “Val? What’s really going on?”
She blinks her eyes several times before she’ll look at me, and then she hangs her head.
“Talk to me,” I encourage. I lift her chin, and as I look into her eyes, I add, “I promise not to be an asshole this entire trip, scout’s honor.”
She gives me a small, shaky grin then sighs. “I just have a lot of baggage, Stryker.” Her forlorn expression and tone twist my gut. “Whatever it is we have, or don’t have, between us, I’m not worth it. I’m a mess.”
Well now, this is new. She’s been pushing me away all along, because she doesn’t think she’s worthy?
“I know you have a lot of baggage. I lifted your suitcases,” I tell her with a wry smile, and before she can roll her eyes at me, I add, “Don’t I get to decide what’s worth trying for, and what isn’t?”
I just hope I’m not lying to myself, thinking there could be something when there actually isn’t. Or worse, what if there is something for us, and it gets screwed up by what this investigation could reveal?
CHAPTER 21
~ Stryker ~
The trip from the airport to the camp itself turned out to be a six-hour ride. Valerie spent half that time sleeping in my arms until the buses stopped for a bathroom and snack break. Having her fall asleep against me for several hours was a real mind-fuck. It felt good to hold her and not fight for a change. Celia had come back to check on her friend to find her sleeping. I saw the debating look in her eyes to wake her up, but I silently shook my head, telling her that wasn’t going to happen. So she left us alone.
I was too wired to close my eyes and take a quick snooze. I couldn’t live in the same blissful ignorance as all the other passengers. So I squandered much of my awake time stroking her hair and gazing down on her finer features, thinking she really hadn’t aged one day. I also reminisced about the way things used to be, and I wondered how I could get that back. Yeah, I was thinking I was in deep shit, pretty much pussy-whipped by that point. I would never admit that to anyone, though. It’s a rarity when you feel someone actually connect with your soul, and when you do, it can drive you raving mad. Knowing what we had before, with the level of trust and intimacy we held, I have no doubt we could eventually get that back. I know it won’t be easy, as we both have so many unresolved issues with each other.
The fact she almost canceled her trip, and then thinking she wanted to go back home while en route to camp, had me wanting to believe this is an innocent mission trip, or she is unaware and uninvolved with whatever the FBI is after. Could be too, she got cold feet and wanted to back out. Either way, Hunter and I are well immersed and ready for anything that comes our way. There is no telling what’s involved when there are shitloads of money at stake. I will say this has been the easiest infiltration I’ve ever experienced. It’s not like trying to get in good with the mafia or a biker gang. On the other hand, getting in good with Valerie and her friend isn’t going to be a cakewalk either.
By the time we pulled into our camp, it was almost five in the evening. All of us were exhausted and hungry. Hunter was there to greet everyone, along with the real mission’s coordinator. A huge relief swept over me the second I spotted him. I was so glad to see him I almost gave him a man-hug, but of course I didn’t. In fact, I made no contact with him while we were in the public eye.
We were shown where to dump our gear, which we did rather quickly so we could head to the camp’s mess hall for dinner. From what I’m told, the place we are staying at was once an old orphanage. All the buildings here are made of concrete. There are no glass windows, just concrete openings with a frame to house a screen in order to keep the bugs out. If it weren’t for the ceiling fans, I have no doubt I’d be shedding five pounds a night from sweating my ass off.
After dinner, I snuck off to link up with Hunter. He had acquired all the ammo we would ever need and more. I packed my bag full with artillery and field equipment. Handling this gear is like second nature to me, and it felt good to have it back in my possession. Our initial setup and plans appear to be falling into place very smoothly, but it doesn’t mean I’m relaxed. I’m very much alert.
With Hunter getting here a couple days before all of us, he had the opportunity to launch a few drones, and with his help, he linked them to Quinn’s computers. I think of Quinn and how damn proud I am to be part of this security team. He doesn’t fuck around or hold back when it comes to investing in new equipment. He must have hundreds of thousands of dollars wrapped up in technology. No one would ever think that our little outfit, comprised of only four retired Special Forces men, would be based on the outskirts of Raleigh.
The drones Hunter launched were high tech, able to use thermal imaging and transmit high definition optics. Needless to say, Quinn can pretty much see a pimple on a gnat’s ass. Hunter had not only launched several drones in the air, but he also installed other surveillance equipment t
hat looks like damn birds. I just hope the howler monkeys don’t fuck with them.
I feel better knowing Quinn and Travis are now monitoring the surrounding areas in real time for anything that might look like suspicious activity. Hopefully, they’ll be able to spot trouble and alert us beforehand. That’s our plan, anyway.
Hunter and I have decided to start our 05:00 daily workout regime the day after tomorrow. It’s been a long day for me, and we thought rest was more important on this first day. Hunter also informed me another volunteer group is supposed to be here at the same time as us. Interestingly enough, they were with a business mission brigade. I had always heard of a medical mission trip, but never a business one. I had no idea such groups would go into villages and show the people how to keep stock and inventory, as well as help the locals come to understand money management and savings.
The group’s flight was canceled due to bad weather back in the States, which left extra rooms available. Hunter was able to work some magic, pull a few strings, and voila, Valerie and I have our own private room—something truly unheard of on a trip like this. I feel more at ease about being separated from the main group. It’s easier to focus on the task at hand, which is Valerie.
“I don’t see why I have to be stuck with you,” she complains now. Severely annoyed, she lets out an exasperated huff. “I just don’t get it. I’ve always stayed with the group.” She unzips her travel bag with quick, jerky movements, clearly not all that keen about the new sleeping arrangements.
“Why look a gift horse in the mouth?” I ask. She grumbles something under her breath, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at her. “Do you honestly like being crammed in a room full of hot, sweaty people and being kept up half the night, because you have to listen to others snore, grunt, and pass gas?”