Safe in His Arms

by Billi Jean

  Ace chuckled. “I won’t be on the sidelines, sunshine, I’ll be running the show.”

  Lacey laughed and shook her head against his shoulder. “As long as you run it from the sidelines.”

  Ace pressed a kiss to her forehead and nodded.

  “Ready?” a guy asked from the door.

  Mandy didn’t turn. She couldn’t. She knew that voice. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight enough that she saw flashes behind her lids. The low tone, the way he practically whispered that one word sent a slice of fear down her spine. Her heart raced and her anger rose making her skin feel too tight.

  “Just give us a second,” Ace called.

  “Sure thing, Ace.”

  She’d know that voice, the tone of it, anywhere. He wasn’t holding her down, face to the wall, whispering sick disgusting things in her ear, but she knew him.

  After the attack, she’d dreamt of smashing his body into the wall and watching the life drain from him. The violence of that night, the shame and cold horror of what he’d done, had given her nightmares for years until she’d turned that attack into her own kind of nightmare.

  Could she kill a man? Watch him die?

  He stood barely ten feet away. So close, she could have turned and reached out and touched him by simply walking a few steps. Just thinking about how he’d shuddered and groaned while he’d hurt her made her want to throw up.

  Now if she did anything, said anything, would he kill Mac? She’d warned them all what he’d said, but she didn’t believe Mac had taken her seriously. He was a killer, he’d said, he killed for a living. But he could die. She remembered clearly the phone call from her stalker describing how he’d watched her through his scope. There wasn’t time to chance telling Mac now. The room was too small, the space too tight. Lacey was here. Ace. Mac.

  She opened her eyes and Mac filled her vision. Her body felt like it was shaking apart from the inside out. What if he simply aimed a gun at Mac right now and shot him?

  She gripped her backpack strap harder. Fearfully, she tried hard to work up the nerve to turn around. What if he stood there, just staring at her? Did she know him? He didn’t sound like any of the men she knew. For that, she was grateful.

  “What is it, Mandy?”

  She glanced down at where she’d tightened her hand on her backpack strap to avoid giving away anything and took a chance on glancing behind her.

  No one stood there. They were alone. She hadn’t heard the door shut let alone Lacey and Ace leaving but no one else was in the room. She struggled to get her heart rate back to normal, half afraid she’d fall down. Or simply dive into Mac’s arms and let him make it all better.

  She couldn’t do that so she locked her knees and simply breathed. She couldn’t tell Mac. Not now. He would kill whoever had been there before he ever thought it through. Maybe go to jail. Or get killed. She remembered the threats to Mac. ‘Tell him. Tell Wolf what I’ve done. He’ll know then how worthless you are. And if he still does want you? I’ll kill him. Kill him for the fun of it, the pleasure.’

  Mac frowned at her, concern on his handsome face. She would wait until they were out of here then tell him.

  “I’m just tired.”

  He gave her a searching look but finally said, “Did you pack your inhaler?”

  Relief that he’d let it go surged through her. She could have fallen—if she’d not locked her knees, she might have. The relief was that great. She nodded and watched him scan her face. Seeming satisfied, he brushed his knuckles along her jaw. God, she hated lying to him.

  “You’re going to be okay?”

  She nodded quickly and tried to force a smile past the numbness. “Sure, my first ride in a helicopter, how bad could it be?”

  Mac gave her a crooked smile. “Behave and maybe I’ll ask if you can sit up front, crazy cat.”

  Mandy felt her heart do an odd flip in her chest. He used to call her scaredy cat.

  Reaching out, he leaned an arm oh so casually around her shoulders and turned them towards the door, but she knew it wasn’t casual. Everything Mac did had purpose. He opened the door and ushered her by the men filling the low-lit room with dark uniforms, hushed conversations, and buzzing electronics.

  He was marking her as his.

  How long had she wanted that? Years. But now, with the killer possibly in the room, she realised his mark of possession might get him killed. Tightening her grip on her backpack strap, she tried hard not to get upset all over again. Focus is what she needed.

  The attack on the hotel had been well planned out and dangerous. Members of the Gonzales family—and how fucked up was it that she shared a last name with the killers—had staged it to harm as many of the men responsible for taking out the head of their family as possible. All they’d managed was to murder four tourists, wound fifteen others, and miss every active military and retired military personnel there.

  This time.

  Mac seemed to think this was just their first strike. Ace agreed. She’d heard them talking and had shared Lacey’s concerns that both men wanted in the battle. And it was going to be a battle.

  She knew the look in Mac’s eyes. She’d seen it before—with Sarge. Her stepdad had taken every opportunity to smack her around, mostly when he’d had one too many whiskeys. When Mac moved in and had realised what had been going on when her brother was gone, he’d worn such a look. He’d been a fifteen-year-old kid, a boy, really, but when Sarge had got drunk and hit her, Mac had followed him to the local bar and made sure her stepdad never laid a hand on her again.

  Mac had always had a temper. Always used his fists—except with her. With her, he’d never shown more than that half grin and the watchful, intense gaze of a protector. He wore that look now, and she knew he’d do anything to keep her safe.

  The man she’d heard at the door was part of this. The only security she felt was that he wasn’t going with her and Mac. The teams were breaking up and her team would be a team of two. Her and Mac. Maybe when they got to where they were going, she’d tell Mac. Maybe then he could talk himself down off his anger and not kill a teammate. After all, she didn’t know who the guy was. Maybe he wasn’t part of the unit. But she knew, just knew her attacker wasn’t letting her go so easily. What if she was in the room with him right now?

  Memories of that night tore into her concentration, making her feel sick. ‘Feel that? Feel a real man? Is that what you want? Wolf used you. Used you when he wanted something more. Now you’re nothing but a whore. Just a whore and he’ll know it now.’

  The hatred in his voice when he’d spoken Mac’s nickname had scared her then, and it still scared her now.

  “Doing good, sugar?”

  She glanced up at Mac’s profile and pain threatened to overwhelm her. How many tears did she have for crying out loud? She knew what he was doing when he bent and pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “Yep, I’m fine. It looks like they’re preparing for battle, though.”

  She moved out from under his arm to adjust her backpack and kept walking ahead of him down the hallway.

  He let her go, but when she glanced back, she saw he’d not missed her manoeuvre. Nodding to an older, silver-haired guy with tons of medals on his chest, Mac said something about calling in later and ushered her down a hallway. “That’s why we’re leaving,” Mac said. “Stay close.”

  They passed several soldiers and her throat tightened in fear, until they responded to Mac and she heard them speak. Neither was the guy, but how many other men were they going to pass? Mac sounded casual, as if being in the middle of a bomb attack happened every day.

  Maybe it did, Mandy.

  The thought sent another shiver through her already overloaded body.

  “Come with us. We need a few more men.” Mac urged her forward and she glanced back to see both men following them. One even called Mac ‘sir’ a few times. Did she even know Mac’s rank? No. She didn’t. She also didn’t know how he had really got such a horrible scar on his ne
ck and jaw. They’d been too busy arguing, then making out for her to learn anything about him. The mark scared her. Someone had got close to him, near enough to hurt him. It scared her. At this rate, what didn’t, though?

  The NGO she worked had once shut down quickly. There’d been an arms dealer blowing locals up for not pushing his goods. The military had swooped in, and the NGO had been forced to pack up and ship out of Ghana within a matter of minutes. This felt a lot like that, but not quite as scary as men speaking in another language could be.

  Mac let her walk ahead, but he was a warm, reassuring presence at her back. He hadn’t been in Africa and she’d survived. They’d survive this.

  Ace and Lacey were standing around waiting when they entered the hangar. They looked ready to go. They all did, she realised, spotting Katya and Eagle in the crowd. The reality of their situation hit again, making her heart race. She slowed her breathing, hoping to avoid using the inhaler. The hangar held more military personnel doing all kinds of preparation—mostly looking like they were getting ready for war. All were dressed in black, some with rifles as big as her slung over their backs. Any one of them could have been the attacker. Mac pulled her close to his side, while both men with him angled out in a flanking position. Anyone trying to get through that would have to shoot them all down.

  “Mac?” She took his hand and he squeezed hers once then released her. Right, hands free, Mandy.

  “Almost there, sugar.”

  She nearly laughed. She was going to break apart soon.

  “I got this in the bag, don’t look like that. If our guy is here, he’s as good as dead if he so much as aims a gun at you, got it?”

  She nodded, only half surprised that he understood her fear was from the stalker, not the mafia blowing up hotels. Deep down she knew the guy wouldn’t attack her here, in the open like this. Or maybe she hoped he wouldn’t. Either way she knew Mac carried weapons on him as well as more in the case slung over his back. He would protect her. She knew that with every fibre of her body, but that worried her the most. He’d die trying to protect her, wouldn’t he?

  Mac halted them next to the others, crowding so close she could feel his heat.

  “We all hit different ‘copters. Lacey and Ace, you two take the front and head west. Eagle, you and Kat go south and we’ll circle around and go east. Meet up on Kahoolawe and go from there.”

  “Whoa, did you get permission to land there?” Ace asked.

  Mac nodded.

  Eagle whistled. “You got some connections, Wolf.”

  “Use what you got,” Mac shot back.

  “Or lose what you have.” Eagle laughed. Katya didn’t laugh. She looked worried. Eagle kept her under his arm, close to his body. She grimaced at Mandy and nodded. Her eyes looked red, like she’d been crying. Mandy noticed a white bandage around Eagle’s forearm and tightened her grip on her fear. Eagle had been hurt. Who was next?

  “So not funny,” Lacey muttered, and Ace scowled over at Eagle and Mac.

  “Let’s just get this done, gentlemen,” Ace growled.

  Mac nodded. “We’ll meet you on the island in two hours. Let’s take this show on the road, whaddya say, boys?”

  Lacey shook her head at Mac. “He’s nuts, you know that, right?”

  Mandy smiled, or tried to, but managed to say, “Yep, certifiable.”

  Ace surrounded Lacey in his arms, tipping her head up to examine her face before kissing her quickly. “Wolf’s wild, but the plan’s solid.”

  “It’d better be,” Lacey whispered, but Mandy heard her and silently agreed.

  Mac didn’t respond, but she got the feeling he was primed to move and the discussion had him on edge.

  “Let’s go,” Mac said, ushering her forward.

  She turned and waved but quickly faced forward, brushing at her face to make sure Mac didn’t see how close to tears she was. She wished they’d all travel together, but she could understand why they weren’t. They walked past the two helicopters closest to them. She peeked over her shoulder to watch Ace help Lacey hop in. Farther from her, she spotted Eagle guide Katya up into another helicopter while he hunched down under the whirl of the helicopter’s blades.

  Mandy turned back around and covered her ears at the deafening sound that vibrated up from the ground, but she knew it was nothing compared to when the things took off. Mac pulled her close and shouted something above the wind she couldn’t hear.

  “What?” she yelled.

  “We stay here, wait until they lift off. Then we get on the third.” He pointed and she spotted the third beyond the asphalt square the other two copters shared. They’d have to walk across a scraggly field with knee-high yellowed weeds and past another cracked black-topped area to reach theirs. Why so far?

  She nodded, though, and narrowed her eyes to watch the two Black Hawks lift off. She thought she saw Ace and Lacey, but the ‘copter moved so fast, she wasn’t sure. God, poor Lacey. First, all this stuff with the Russian mob after her, and now a Mexican one was after Ace.

  Mac pulled her hand in his and tugged her into moving. “Let’s go.”

  “Why is ours so far away?”

  He laughed and glanced down at her. “I have no idea. Gonna make it?”

  “Well, it is just odd, right?”

  “Not odd, just the way it is. They land differently, have different mechanics. Ours is over here because that’s where it was last worked on, sugar. Just stay strong.”

  “I will. I am.”

  “You are, Mandy, damn you are, sugar.” He gave her hand a squeeze and his half grin before he turned to scan the area.

  They were halfway through the field, hurrying along, when three men rose from behind a pile of fifty-gallon dumps with rifles and began firing.

  She felt the breeze of one bullet, followed immediately by a sharp pain in both knees and her side as Mac shoved her down and rolled with her. It happened so fast, she could barely make sense of it all. They landed in a shallow gully with Mac flat on top of her. All two hundred plus pounds of him. She tried to shove him off a little so she could at least breathe and still not push him into danger.

  “Mandy, stay still!”

  She froze. “I can’t breathe, Mac!”

  He lifted partially off her, his face tense, hardened with a look that frightened her more than the men shooting at them. He nodded tightly and shifted over to open his case, and seconds later he slung his gun over his shoulder, balanced it on the dirt, and fired rapidly

  The blasts hurt her ears, but Mac didn’t even flinch. He had dirt smeared in with the sweat on his face, more sweat dripping from his sideburns. His sunglasses were who knew where and who cared. She felt useless. Curled up on her side, her head between her hands, she simply watched him and prayed for him to be okay.

  The dirt near her head suddenly erupted, spewing rocks and grit all over them. Mac forced her back down so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. Struggling with her backpack, she tried to slow down her breathing, not panic, but each time Mac dived down next to her and the dirt would rain down on them, fear that he would be dead hit her. What if he died? What if he died and she never saw him again? She needed her inhaler. Her backpack wouldn’t cooperate and she fought the stupid pack for several seconds, knocking accidently into Mac in the process.

  “Stay down!”

  “I need—” She gasped and grabbed his belt to get his attention.

  He pulled back, took one look at her and must have seen how bad she was because his tan face turned white. He shoved her over on her stomach and scrambled to drag her backpack off. Seconds later, he had her inhaler in her mouth. She choked but he pressed the release, forcing her to inhale the chemicals. Slowly her world stopped spinning and she found Mac on top of her, his face inches from hers, his big body pressed up against every inch of hers.

  “Son of a bitch,” he snarled each word softly right in her face. “Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.”

  Around them she could still hear the guns
hots, still felt the earth shudder from the bullets, but Mac stared down at her with such anger she couldn’t process it all. “I’m sorry, Mac, they’re still—”

  “Who the fuck cares about them? Shitheads can’t shoot for shit. Next time, you tell me if you can’t breathe, for fuck’s sake.”

  “I tried!”

  He reared back an inch and suddenly grinned. “Well, try harder next time. And don’t ever apologise for needing me. Keep that damn thing out and if you so much as gasp for breath I’m forcing that shit down your throat, then spanking you.”

  “Sheesh, would you stop with the spanking! This is serious—”

  “I am serious, baby. Now, let me get rid of this trash.” His hazel eyes lightened out and, with a grin, he turned and sighted down his gun again, shot four slow rounds, then turned to her.

  “That’s it. Come on.”

  She barely had time to suck in a breath before she was upright. Stumbling only a little, she started running with Mac dragging her along in a hunched-over dash to the distant hangar. Men raced towards them from their left but Mac kept on, pushing her to go faster. Behind them, she heard yells in Spanish.

  Mac looked back over his shoulder. “Shit, these motherfuckers are like cockroaches!”

  More shots hit the ground around them and Mac started firing before he’d even turned around all the way. She held in a scream when he stumbled backwards. Straightening he pushed them behind a truck, scanning the area, her, and the men behind them constantly. He was breathless, but so was she. He pushed her down into a squat next to him.

  She scanned him from head to toe, but didn’t see any blood. Still, she yelled, “Did you get hurt?”

  He glanced in surprise. “No, nothing, sugar. No worries.”

  A half-hysterical laugh tried to break free so she covered her mouth with both hands and tried to get a grip. Tears blurred her vision, but she fought them. He could have died. Again! Oh, God, this was bad. Real bad. Those men were shooting at them like it was…like it was some war zone.