Her Ranger Rescuers

by M J Adams

  “Food,” Jonas said as they approached Albuquerque. “And something to drink, Clay. Somewhere good.” He glanced at Cimony, his throat parched from all the talking. Their eyes met, and a spark leapt inside Jonas.

  Odd, he thought. He hadn’t felt anything for a woman—and especially not a charge—in many years. And this woman, while stunningly beautiful, wasn’t really his type.

  “Thank you,” she said as Clay pulled up to a soda shop connected to a sandwich place with red and white checkered tablecloths.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, offering her the kindest smile he could give.

  #

  With autumn on the horizon, darkness fell earlier than usual. By the time Clay cleared them through the front gate at Parkwood, the Academy windows twinkled like stars in a night sky.

  He hated the sight of it, but he buried those feelings deep. While he’d never seen or met the General, the man had a way of knowing every little thing that happened at the Academy. Even things that Jonas never said out loud.

  “My brothers will meet us,” he said.

  Cimony’s questions had stopped after she’d eaten, and she’d slept for a few more hours on the way here. He hoped she’d still be tired enough to sleep tonight too, because he was exhausted, and as the team lead, it was his job to be up with her if she couldn’t sleep.

  Maybe he could pass the job to Jeremiah, as his brother was a night owl anyway.

  “Jeremiah and James,” she said. “Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Why all the J’s?” she asked. “Are you triplets?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said, glad the drive from the gate to the Academy was only five minutes. He wasn’t sure how many more questions he could handle. “My mother said she wanted to give us strong, Biblical names.”

  Cimony smiled. “She sounds nice.”

  Clay pulled up to the Academy, and the sight of Miah and James standing near the “She was nice.” He opened the door to get out, but Cimony’s hand landed on his arm.

  “Wait, Mister Lyons.”

  “Jonas,” he said, turning back to her. “You don’t need to call me mister.”

  “Jonas,” she said, a smile trembling on her lips. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  “I’m sorry about yours, too,” he said. “Now, let’s go meet my brothers.” He got out of the SUV and extended his hand to her, his smile perfectly in place now. Leaning closer, he added, “Miah’s the nice one, but James is a big softie too. Get him talking about model airplanes, and he’ll be your best friend.”

  Chapter 29

  Jeremiah

  Jeremiah Lyons noticed that Cimony Woods had no shoes on the moment she stepped out of the SUV. She stood in the doorway talking to Jonas for a few extra seconds, and then they both walked toward him and James.

  She’d died her hair since the file Witness Protection agents had put together, and now it glinted like oil in the moonlight and the outdoor lights from the Academy. Jonas looked good, so Miah had hope that this would be an easy charge, and they could get back to their nightly planning meetings to get out of this place.

  Even standing outside in the open had Miah’s skin crawling.

  “Why doesn’t she have shoes?” he muttered to James.

  “Debrief says there was an incident during extraction,” James said. “Which you would know if you read your emails.”

  Miah said nothing, because it was true he hadn’t read any correspondence from Jonas, though he knew it would be sent. Jonas was the one who detailed everything. James was the one who got fired up when Miah didn’t read the details—which was why Miah didn’t read them.

  “Incident?”

  “Read the email,” James said, stepping forward. “Nice to meet you, Cimony. I’m James Lyons.”

  She looked from him to Miah to Jonas. “You’re sure you’re not triplets?”

  “Nope,” Miah said, smiling and extending his hand for her to shake too. She shook James’s first, then his. “I’m the middle brother. A year older than you. James is a year younger. Jonas is the old man at thirty-four.”

  “This old man is tired,” Jonas said, his gaze sweeping over James and Miah. “Take her on the tour and make sure she’s comfortable. We’ll meet first thing in the morning.” He started to walk away, and Miah expected Cimony to dart after him. Ask him to go with them on the tour.

  She didn’t, and that spoke of what kind of charge she was. Miah reminded himself that she was a Witness Protection charge, not a battered wife.

  As soon as Jonas disappeared through the door, she asked, “Can I eat something? He wouldn’t let us stop for dinner.”

  “We should get inside,” James said, and Miah glanced around as if the night patrol would reprimand them for still being outside after dark. There was a new curfew at Parkwood, but they still had twenty minutes before they had to be in the building for the night.

  Miah missed the days—or rather, nights—when he could walk out to the back fence by the light of the moon, working out whatever problem plagued him at the time. Stand at the border of the property and look at the pine trees on the other side, telling his dad about his day.

  He cleared his throat, wishing the memories of his parents would go as easily. “Yeah,” he said. “We should get inside too. And yes, you can eat something.”

  Jonas had been right in continuing on. Being out after the new curfew would’ve gotten him in a lot of trouble. Brought the General’s eyes toward them when all they wanted was anonymity.

  He almost scoffed as James led Cimony up the steps. Now that Max, Luke, and Isaac were gone, and the Lyons brothers were back together as a team, they were the top A team on campus. Maybe the General didn’t use terms like that, but everyone knew it.

  Cimony looked around at everything, asked dozens of questions, and didn’t seem to mind that she had no footwear. She ate standing up in the kitchen, her tight pencil skirt belying how much she could pack away.

  Miah tried not to notice her curves, but everything about Cimony demanded he look at her. She had a commanding presence that called to him, and she caught him looking at her more than once.

  She finally finished eating, and Miah was content to let James be the voice of their little tour. It didn’t matter anyway. Now that charges stayed for three weeks instead of two, someone like Cimony would be bored out of her mind by tomorrow afternoon.

  She didn’t have any physical training to do. She didn’t need counseling—at least not the same kind as someone who’d been gaslighted, didn’t believe they had worth, or had been starved by someone they loved.

  All she needed to do was choose a new profession and a new place to live. Throw a dart. Pack a bag. Get on a place.

  Miah smothered the sigh threatening to leak from his throat. But when Cimony said, “Thanks, James. I’ll see you in the morning,” he clued in to what was happening.

  James was walking away, that was what was happening. He stared after his brother, cursing himself for zoning out. They were on the second floor of the Academy, where the vending machines were, and he distinctly remembered James telling her about them.

  “So you’re going to take me to my room?” She made it sound like a question, those dark eyes devouring him in a single moment. His pulse began to pound, and he had no idea what to do about it.

  She possessed olive skin that seemed very touchable, and Miah reached over and took her hand in his. Her thick eyebrows lifted, but she said nothing.

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re up on the third floor, so it’s a bit more climbing.”

  “You weren’t listening to a thing your brother said, were you?”

  “Maybe not,” he admitted.

  Cimony smiled and shook her head. “Why not? You don’t like this job?”

  “Not particularly,” he said, immediately sucking in a breath. “I mean, yes. I love this job.” He glanced around, once again expecting some kind of enforcement agent to cuff him for saying something against the Academy.

 
; “Intriguing,” she said, leaning closer as they climbed the steps. “I want to hear more about that.”

  “This place is…different from what it was when we first came here,” he said. “That’s all. You know how jobs change.”

  “I loved my job in El Paso.”

  “So much so that you almost got blown up doing it.”

  She paused at the top of the steps, her sharp eyes hooking into his and searching. He wasn’t sure what she found, but she smiled at him. “I like you, Jeremiah Lyons. You say real things.”

  “It’s Miah,” he said. “You don’t need to use all four syllables.”

  “Ah, but Miah isn’t very Biblical.” She continued down the hall with him, and he counted the doors, though her suite was in the corner. The Academy was full right now too, which meant she’d have to share bathroom facilities with two other women.

  He ignored the comment on his name and told her about the room and the bathroom. “It’s fine,” she said. “My last apartment was a converted dentist’s office. I can handle sharing a shower.”

  He wondered if she’d share her shower with him, his heart doing that weird hammering thing again. Miah hadn’t had a girlfriend in years, since leaving his high school sweetheart to follow his big brother into the Army.

  He’d adored everything about Jonas, and he’d wanted to make his father proud. In the end, he had, and without his parents in the world, his relationships with his brothers were still ultra-important to him.

  “Well, this is your room,” he said, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door in with a couple of fingers. The room smelled like fresh sheets and peaches, and he stepped over to the windowsill where a candle flickered. He glanced at her dresser and then the bed. “It doesn’t look like anyone brought you any clothes. I’ll go grab them.”

  The procedures at Parkwood had changed, though he and his brothers usually had a routine to things. They’d learned from Max, and his team had lines memorized. Jonas wasn’t that strict of a team lead, but if James had been in charge, he’d probably have an itinerary of when Miah should help Cimony change out of her skirt.

  He licked his lips at the very thought of seeing more of her skin. “I’ll be right back,” he said, needing some space to figure out where these hormonal thoughts were coming from.

  “I’ll come with you,” she said, hurrying after him.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Are you worried about being here?”

  “This is the nicest place I’ve been in in months,” she said. “There’s a real bed, and furniture. I’m assuming the water is hot?” She quirked one eyebrow at him.

  “Yes,” he said. “Plenty of hot water here.” Figuratively and literally. “You don’t seem like the kind to…”

  “To what?” she asked.

  “I just thought you’d like to be alone for a moment,” he said. “I mean, most of our other charges don’t like it, but you’re…not like them.” He sounded stupid, and he knew it. He mentally commanded himself to stop talking.

  “I don’t like being called a charge,” she said. “My name’s Cimony.”

  “I know that,” he said. “I also know you have two older brothers. A lot older. Brandon is forty-one, and Paker is forty-five. I know your mom and dad died in a motorcycle accident five years ago, and I know you’re a size eight.” He ran his eyes down her body and back to hers. “We call them charges, because we’re charged with their care.” He went down the steps, his feet making too much noise.

  She kept up with him, and he liked that. “What are your other charges like?”

  “Most people who come to Parkwood are abused,” he said. “In some way. Usually by a spouse or a parent. We have a few who we get from Witness Protection. Like you.” He went all the way to the ground floor and started through the recreation room. It was by no means empty, despite the curfew—or maybe because of it.

  Cimony hadn’t seemed interested in getting to know anyone else at Parkwood, and Miah couldn’t blame her. He went right out of the room and down the hall and around another corner to the clothing closet.

  “The clothing matron won’t like me digging through her stuff,” he said, but the closet wasn’t locked. Parkwood patrons had access to everything they needed while they were here, and he told Cimony that as he rooted around for a pair of pajamas, jeans, and a couple of T-shirts.

  “Can I have one with the Army star like yours?” she asked.

  Miah looked at her, trying to decide if she was teasing him, flirting with him, or just asking.

  “Nope,” he finally said. “I earned this one, Cimony. Served ten years in the Army.”

  “A soldier?”

  “Like my dad and both of my brothers.” He handed her a blue T-shirt with a bird on it, and a red one with a heart. “If you don’t like these, you can pick something else out.” He backed out of the clothing closet, the space too intimate for him to be in there with her.

  She smelled faintly like explosives, but her perfume had covered most of that. It had also gone straight to his head, making him think insane things about this woman he barely knew and couldn’t have a relationship with beyond being her protector.

  He knew the rules. He lived by the rules, even if he didn’t know all the sub-articles of them.

  She chose a few more shirts, and a couple more pairs of jeans, and they went back upstairs. In her room, she put the new items in the dresser and turned to him. Their eyes met, and she quickly moved into his arms.

  Miah had no choice but to hug her, and it felt wonderful and warm. Everything he wanted in an embrace and hadn’t had in so long.

  “What’s this for?” he asked.

  “You just seemed like you needed a hug,” she whispered. “And I know I did.” She stepped back and cleared her throat. When she looked at him again, she wore vulnerability in her expression. “Thank you for bringing me here. You’re like my own personal savior.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me yet,” he said. “And I didn’t bring you here. Jonas did.”

  “You’re part of the team.”

  “True,” he said. “But tomorrow, we start the hard stuff. Sleep as late as you want. James will be here to take you to our first meeting.” He retreated to the door, a genuine smile on his face.

  “Are there a lot of meetings here?” she asked.

  “So many,” he said, ducking out of the room and closing the door behind him. He pressed his back into the wood, wondering when he could hug Cimony again, because that had felt great.

  More than great. Hugging her had felt like coming home, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in far too long.

  Chapter 30

  James

  James Lyons woke when Jonas’s phone started blitzing out alarms. His older brother swore, rolled over, and picked up his phone.

  He didn’t say anything, but the blue light of the device showed his displeasure. “You guys awake?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost reverent. Surprising, given the level of anger on his face.

  “Yeah,” James said.

  “Unfortunately,” Miah said. He shifted in his bed, and one of the dogs jumped down to the floor. Miah had inherited the care of the pack from Isaac Ramsey, who’d left Parkwood Academy under suspicious circumstances almost three months ago.

  “I just got called out on another tracking mission,” Jonas said, pulling on a pair of jeans. “You guys are going to have to start with Cimony without me.”

  James pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Who?”

  “Avery Tyson.” He turned toward the dresser, and the moonlight illuminated the tattoos across his back. Even in the dim light, James could see the faces of their parents, and something choked in his throat.

  “Take a couple of days with her,” Jonas said. “She seems tough and prickly, but I think she’s got a soft side.”

  From what James had seen, he didn’t think so. Cimony Woods was easily the most put together charge the Lyons brothers had encountered. Sure, she’d shown up without shoes, but all
that meant was she could travel a thousand miles no matter what condition she was in.

  James didn’t want to deal with Cimony at all. What he wanted to do was make a plan for how he and his brothers could get out of this place. Away from all the stipulations, the rules, the phone calls at three-thirty in the morning, drawing Jonas away from them.

  Such things had been happening more and more, and James believed the General was trying to split up their team. Jonas went out on a tracking mission every couple of weeks, and he was usually gone for at least three days.

  “How long?” he asked as Jonas turned toward him.

  “It doesn’t stay.” He paused and looked at James. With his back to the window now, Jonas’s face couldn’t be seen very well. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

  “We have to get out of here,” James whispered.

  Miah sighed and sat up, dislodging a couple more dogs. The smallest one, Tootsie, clicked over to James’s bed, and he scooper her up. “We all know that, James.”

  “I’m just saying we don’t have time for Jonas to be gone, and we don’t have time for a charge like Cimony.”

  “I liked her,” Miah said.

  “Of course you did,” James said. “She’s hot, and you haven’t had a girlfriend for years.”

  “Neither have you,” Miah shot back, a little harsher than James thought he would.

  “Enough,” Jonas said. He crouched down and looked back and forth between Miah and James. “You two are on the same team. Stop the childish bickering. I’ll be back as quickly as I can, and we’ll keep working on a way out of here, okay?” He pierced James with his glare. “Miah.” He switched his gaze to the middle brother. “Keep your nose clean, please. The last thing we need is the General focusing on us on an easy charge.”

  “She is not going to be easy,” Miah said quietly.

  Jonas exhaled as he stood up. “I know. But you guys can handle her. Not manhandle her. Hands off. Thoughts clean. Got it?”