Safe in His Arms

by Billi Jean

  Someone had just declared war and it wasn’t some sick prick after Mandy.

  The cartel had arrived.

  Chapter Ten

  “Mandy!”

  Mac’s shout sent a bolt of panic through her. She had to get to him. Had to see for herself he was okay. See him standing there, strong and tall.

  “Mandy?”

  “I’m here. I’m okay.” She kept the panic out of her shout by sheer luck.

  “Good, good. Get that door open,” Mac yelled.

  She got up from where she’d hit the floor when the shuddering had begun, and pulled at the bathroom door only managing to get it a crack open before Mac was in her face, yanking her out and into the rubble that used to be his room.

  “Shit, she’s good. She’s fine, Mac,” Dare said before she could comprehend everything. Suddenly Mac had his arms around her, nearly suffocating her against his chest, then just as she got used to him being alive—warm and strong and simply there—he grabbed her arms and pushed her away to examine her face. She knew the feeling. She scanned his face, his arms and body for signs of hurt, but saw nothing, not even a scratch on him.

  One glance around her showed Dare, Eagle and Ace all alive, all unharmed that she could see.

  “Mac, Mac, stop. What—?”

  “We have to get her out of this room,” Ace said.

  She shivered at his tone. He sounded so…hard.

  “I called. Back-up is on its way. We weren’t the only place hit. They hit the club, too,” Eagle said.

  “We need to get the girls out of here,” Dare said, his dark face nearly pale. “They’re fine but we need to move it.”

  “Yep, you three go. I’ll wait here, then hit the stairwell. Make sure this shit is contained,” Mac growled.

  She reached up and tightened her trembling hand around her throat. No way was this because of her. It couldn’t be. This was something else.

  “The cartel won’t stop sending men. They’ll waste two dozen just to hit one—” Eagle started but Ace silenced him by gripping his shoulder.

  “Not now. We’re going down, Mac. Give us ten. I hear sirens already, but watch your back, man.”

  Mac nodded and before she could even say a word all three men had jumped over the fallen door and headed out as silent as cats. All three of them were armed. All three looked deadly. Still, she felt weak and shaky inside at the danger they were heading into. The cartel. They’d bombed the hotel to get to Mac and his unit.

  “We gotta get off this floor, Mandy. To do that we need to make it down this hallway, to the stairwell at the end of the hall, and down four flights. You good with that?”

  She opened her mouth to ask what she didn’t know, but he silenced her simply because he pulled her over and hugged her tightly to his chest.

  “We’re going to get out of this.”

  Instead of saying anything, she wrapped her arms around his muscled body and held on. He needed her, she realised.

  “Okay, go get your inhaler. Leave the rest.”

  She looked up at his face and saw the sheer determination there. Mac looked deadly. Not angry. Not upset. Not anything at all. His chiselled features were set, hard, and she knew deep inside, where she’d always been able to sense things about Mac, that he’d die rather than let her come to any harm.

  “Don’t leave me,” she managed past the tightness in her throat. He froze from where he’d been going to go around her and glanced down with a questioning look. “Don’t get hurt.”

  The hardness softened slightly and he bent to brush a kiss to her lips. “Not a chance, sugar.”

  God, he was impossibly arrogant, but maybe, she thought, maybe that’s what got him through this horror.

  “Good. See that you don’t.”

  He winked and motioned with a hand for her to get her inhaler from the bathroom, and turned to pull a gun out from under the bedside table. He had one gun in the waistband of his jeans, she could see, but he held this one and checked the cartridge before he went to the other side of the bed. She grimaced at the guns, but met him at the bathroom door. He looked ready for battle. But then again, that’s what they were in, wasn’t it?

  “If we get split up, it will only be for a few minutes. I want you safe, and this over. Do what I say, Mandy. It’s important that—”

  “I will, Mac. Don’t you think I trust you?”

  He narrowed his eyes and she saw something like surprise shift over his features before he gave her his half grin and a nod.

  “About fucking time.”

  “Mac—”

  “Shh, let’s get out of this room.” He matched words to action by guiding her out of the door and over the destruction of the hallway. White plaster dusted everything, pictures lay crumpled on the carpet, with chunks of the ceiling missing and littering the floor along with bits of wall and two doors that had been blown outward.

  “That’s where the bomb must have originated, or below it,” Mac muttered, manoeuvring around the disaster with half his attention on her.

  “I’m fine.”

  He nodded tightly and got them past a rougher spot then tugged her hand until they ran, half hunched over down the hall. Mac’s body was tightly controlled, his grip on the gun steady and firm. She thanked every crazy god out there for each step closer to the end of the hall. Muffled thuds came through from somewhere, but they sounded too faint for her to be certain what they were. Her imagination went wild, filling in the gaps to paint a gruesome picture. They’d been bombed. What wouldn’t these guys do? The shriek of sirens split the air, suddenly sounding closer. Was everyone dead on this floor?

  She winced when he slammed his back into the wall by the stairway door and brought her gently to a stop next to him. He gazed down at her for some reason, his hazel eyes bloodshot and his face so hard she felt like crying. She held it in, not willing to strain what already had to be a tense situation for him.

  He nodded once, and motioned to the stairway door, holding up three fingers.

  She nodded. They’d move on three.

  He counted down, and before she was ready, he reached zero, ducked through the door, holding it open with his foot, while he kept his gun pointed, up then down the stairway. After only a second, he nodded to her and she stepped carefully over the rubble and brushed by him.

  “Come on,” he urged, not wasting time but heading down the stairs at a rapid pace.

  “What—”

  Gunfire sounded ahead of them, not in the stairwell, but through the exit where he had stopped them. “Shit.”

  He pushed her back, out of the way of the door, and reached for the handle. She wanted to stop him, pull him back, anything but have him dive in guns blazing, but she knew she had to stay quiet. No distractions. Her brother had always said the least little thing on your mind could get you killed. Her being here was on Mac’s mind.

  As she watched, his shoulders bunched under his T-shirt, the muscles clearly outlined by the fabric as he pulled it ajar. More gunfire sounded, but tight, hard rapid fire. He eased the door shut after a quick look and nodded to her. “Contained. They’re down. We should be able to go soon.”

  The gunfire stopped. The sudden loss of such a horrible destructive sound numbed her. Her ears still hurt from the bomb, still rang slightly in an odd echoing way, but at least the gunfire had distracted her from the vertigo.

  “Mandy, look up at me.” Mac’s voice sounded odd. She turned to meet his eyes, so glad he was alive she couldn’t stop the flow of tears easing down her face. “Damn, no, don’t cry, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

  “Me? I’m safe. You, you were going to go in there, leave me here, and die! Those men had a bomb. A bomb. They’re shooting—”

  “Shh, I’m tougher than any bomb, sugar. Come on, give me some credit here.”

  She gasped and shook her head. “No, no joking. Not now, please, Mac.”

  He reached over and pulled her arm until she reluctantly rested against his chest. “You’re doing good, real goo
d.” He sighed in her hair and she hugged him tighter.

  “You’re tired,” she said.

  He chuckled, sounding like she’d startled him.

  “You are tired. I’m tired. What is going on, Mac? Who is doing this?”

  “The cartel we busted. They got out,” he said.

  The understatement was so Mac, she simply cried harder, hugging him as tightly as she could. “They got out. They got out, like it’s a holiday. God, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “You won’t. Now come on, be tough for me. Let’s get out of here so we can rest. I need a damn nap. You wore me out all day swimming.”

  “Mac.” She couldn’t say she loved him, wanted to, wanted to so badly it hurt, but she stayed silent, keeping her love inside, unable to break it out in the open yet. “Just don’t joke about it, okay?”

  “Come on, it’s safe now. No more gunfire.”

  She let him go, stepping back, and rubbed her wrist over her eyes. There shouldn’t be this many tears in one person. She hated crying. Hated feeling like she couldn’t take care of herself. She glanced up and saw Mac watching her closely. “I’m good.”

  “You’re doing better than good, Mandy. Just keep on being strong for me, okay?” he asked, quickly pulling her along after she nodded. “We go down one more level, that’s ground level, then we’re fine.”

  They made it to the next floor without gunfire. She couldn’t hear a single sound, not guns, bombs or anything else they might have to throw at them. Mac stopped her, stood her behind the door, while he moved to the right of it, and slowly eased it open. Sirens suddenly sounded, along with shouts and what she thought could be running feet.

  “It’s clear. I can see Ace. I want us to go right to him, he’s directing more of the crew. You and I will check in, then we get in a vehicle and head out. Lacey is already gone, or Ace wouldn’t be here.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and tried to even out her breathing. Her asthma was acting up, but she wasn’t about to tell Mac she needed her inhaler. He watched her closely, for what reason, she didn’t know, but he seemed satisfied and nodded.

  “Come on.”

  She eased around him and immediately sounds and sights assaulted her. Smoke filled the air. Firemen, police, the military and hurt tourists filled the lobby. Hotel employees were frantically running from one end of the huge entryway to the other. Some carrying towels, some medical kits, others water and bandages. She spotted Dare through the crowds. He met her gaze for a moment, gave her a tight nod, and a quick once-over then turned back to the three military guys next to him. Ace stopped talking to the men in fatigues near him as soon as they walked up.

  “Shit got rough. You good, Mandy?”

  She bit her lip and swallowed past a dry throat. “I’m—”

  A scream ripped through the lobby, followed by gunfire. A red dot appeared on the side of Ace’s shoulder, then skimmed down to her white shirt, then quickly landed square on Mac’s chest.

  “Down!” she shouted, unsure if either of them would take her seriously or not, but Ace shoved Mac to the floor and she went down with them. Bullets burst along the wall where Mac had stood. Next to them, the floor to ceiling windows burst inward, raining glass down on them with an enormous crash. Mac hauled her close and covered her with his body, scaring her so badly she couldn’t stop shaking. She clenched her fists in his shirt and simply tried to will them to survive.

  Ace got up on a knee, took aim, and fired his gun, his face dark and intent, so dangerous-looking she felt near tears. If Ace died what would Lacey do? What would she do if Mac died?

  More gunfire hit the wall above them and Mac curled his arms around her head and tried to protect her from the violence. Plaster pinged painfully down on her exposed legs and her left arm but she held Mac tightly, refusing to move an inch. From the distance, she heard more shouts, more gunfire then boots running. A blast sounded again and someone shouted in Spanish.

  Ace cursed and they shared a look.

  “Damn it, we need outta here,” Mac snarled. “Get that damn radio on, and find out what’s taking the back-up so long.”

  “It’s here, Wolf. The back-up is here.”

  “Shit.” Mac shoved off her, urged her behind a potted plant, and looked her in the eyes. She grabbed hold of his shirt, seeing what he was going to do. “I’ll be back. You stay right there.”

  “Don’t you dare get killed. Don’t either of you get killed.” She didn’t let go until both men nodded, Mac with his half grin, Ace with a look that promised whoever was out there would soon be sorry. She curled her knees up to her chest and pretended she was part of the wall.

  “Good, you stay right there.” Mac eyed her once more then turned and he and Ace raced across the lobby, hunched down, but jumping over anyone that got in their way. They both made it to the other side of the room and, as she watched, they vaulted over the counter, easily sliding over the marble and onto the other side. Immediately they turned and started firing out of the broken window to her left. She heard shouts, more Spanish, then screams from outside.

  This was Mac’s life. This was what he did. She wanted to yank him back to her side, pull him close, and make him swear he would leave this life behind.

  Would he?

  Around the huge leaves of the plant, she caught sight of Eagle, then Dare and five other men heading back inside the front entrance, all of them but Dare walking backwards, their firearms pointing to where the gunfire had originated from. Dare simply walked in, his head bleeding from a wound, his strut missing. He spotted her, and winced, nodded to Mac and Ace when both of them came back into view and hitched his rifle over his shoulder.

  “They mean business. Shit, do they mean business,” he said taking in the damage caused by the attack.

  She bit her lip, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with grief for them all. Especially Dare. Ace had Lacey, Eagle had Katya, and maybe Mac had her, but who was there for Dare?

  “We’re taking them out,” Mac said, his attention on her, not Dare, but Ace nodded the same way Dare did. “Come on, Mandy, let’s go. The medical team is on the way. We gotta give them room to help these folks.”

  “And get off this island,” Ace said. “We’re leaving. I’ll have one of the men get your things, Mandy.”

  Get her things.

  Nothing she had in the room mattered. The only thing that mattered wrapped his arm around her shoulders and urged her past the uniformed men.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mandy pulled her backpack on tighter and stared at Mac. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d tried, but, after the mafia attack, she’d been full of such fear she’d lose him, she couldn’t stop making sure he was there. He seemed just as alert to her. Their eyes met and he blew out a breath through his nose. She loved it when he did that. Like some angry, sexy matador.

  “Damn, you look good in the camo, sugar.”

  She rolled her eyes. He was trying to lighten the mood.

  He walked across the Naval base’s airport security office and tipped her head up with his fingers. “You do. Sorry about the room?”

  “What, that you didn’t spank me?”

  He grinned and startled her by smacking her butt and kissing her protest at the same time. Fine, two could play. She’d learnt she’d never get anything in this life if she held back and waited. She pulled his head down closer with one hand and kissed him with all the pent-up frustration she felt. And she felt a lot.

  He groaned into her mouth and dragged her closer, cupping her ass in his hands. He tasted like cinnamon and beer. She tilted her head for a better taste, but when he shoved his erection against her, she pushed between them and curled her fingers around the thick stalk of flesh through his BDUs. He cursed against her lips.

  “Fuck yeah, baby, get used to that size, ‘cause later you owe my solider some tender care.”

  She laughed. “I doubt you’ve earned that kind of reward,” she told him, happy when her voice came out teasing instead of breathl
ess.

  He pressed into her, clearly more than ready for the challenge. “I’ve been a good boy, sugar. I deserve one hell of a reward.”

  The door opened and she jumped, tried to pull out of his arms with a great deal of effort, and only managed it because he let her go with a low laugh. The man was like an octopus. And obviously didn’t care who saw him all over her.

  “Mac!”

  He gave her a frown, mocking confusion, but grinned when she finally got out of his arms to face Ace already walking in the room.

  “The copters are ready,” Ace said. There was a deep, long cut along his arm, another on his forehead, but, for surviving a bomb, none of them had suffered any real damage.

  Lacey came in behind Ace and immediately rushed up to hug her. Mandy hugged her back, wishing with all her might that her friend didn’t have to endure this stuff. She deserved more than this. They all did.

  “This is so screwed up, Mandy. I’m so glad you are okay.”

  “I’m so sorry about your wedding, Lacey. Will you be okay? The wedding?”

  Lacey snorted and gave her the ‘duh’ look. “Forget the wedding. I don’t want anyone killed!”

  “Baby, it’s going to be okay. The men will contain it, and we’ll be fine,” Ace assured her.

  Lacey snorted, and faced off against Ace. Mandy needed to take some notes on this, she realised, watching her friend—who barely came to Ace’s chest—stand her ground.

  “Don’t. Just don’t. Don’t you think I know what you’re planning? I swear to God, if you go out there and play solider, you can find a new couch to sleep on, ‘cause—” Ace closed the space separating him from Lacey and pulled her into his embrace. He looked so concerned, Mandy glanced over at Mac. Mac wore a look so intensely focused on her, she blinked.

  “It’s not going down like that. I’m with you. Those guys can handle this shit, Lacey,” Ace said.

  Ace spoke low, but she heard him, and yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Mac. It was like they were alone and he was saying those words to her. She turned back to Lacey to see her reach up and brush a hand over Ace’s dark hair. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just you won’t be happy on the sidelines.”