Steel Rain: A Military Romance Collection

by A. Gorman

  But hell, if she wanted to do the cooking, I most certainly wasn’t going to object. I wanted to keep her mind preoccupied and off the fact that someone was trying to kill her.

  As I stared at her from across the table, I took in her soft features. The way her eyelashes cast a shadow on her cheekbones as she looked down at her meal. The way her mouth opened to invite the food inside. Her jawline so sharp and smooth as it opened all the way up. But most of all, the soft curve of her neck as she leaned forward to eat. I shook my head at my own idiocy. Never in my life had I analyzed a woman eating before. I’d had plenty of girls in my house, my bed, but never before had I paid so much attention to detail.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  Realizing I was acting like a chump with these thoughts, I quickly shoveled the rest of my food in my mouth, dumped my plate in the sink, determined to clean up later, and went back into my room.

  I didn’t bother to look back at the vic, even though I could feel her stare on my back as I walked out of the kitchen.

  Sitting on my bed, I rested my forearms on my knees and sighed. My leg was hurting especially fiercely today and I tried not to acknowledge that, but it was hard to ignore. I jammed my thumb into the scar on my thigh through my pants and sighed. Would this pain ever go away?

  Probably not.

  Even though I had kept my injury secret from the FBI, I had a sinking feeling that they knew. I closed my eyes and remembered my days back in Quantico.

  I’d been required to run miles in a certain amount of time, and I’d done it, but it had come at a price. Once back in my dorm the night of that test, I had done everything in my power to fight back the tears of pain that wanted to consume me.

  In all fairness, I really shouldn’t have been running miles like that on this leg. Sure, the huge chunk of shrapnel had been removed from my thigh under the careful scrutiny of a doctor, but that didn’t mean I was back to normal. I knew I never would be, but I was stubborn and stupid.

  I passed all the physical and psych tests the FBI had thrown at me, but when I was alone in my dorm – or later, in my house – there were demons that I had to flog back. Demons that plagued me day and night. Keeping my mind on SSG Ellis Anderson and his heroic events was the only thing that kept me sane and human. That damn kid, with his dark hair and curious sky blue eyes staring at me on that battlefield, willing me to stay alive.

  I’d heard he had a new girl. That they were gonna get married and had a baby on the way. Grinning at the possibility, I couldn’t imagine that dude being a father. But then again, what did any of us – Ellis, me, my brother Mason – know about being a father? Nothing, that’s what.

  I massaged my leg again. I had some ibuprofen and even some Percocet in my bag, and I wanted to take some. But to do so meant I was weak and unable to cope, and that was one title I was unwilling to live with. So I lay back on my bed and thought of something other than pain or sex.

  Chapter 12

  Rayanne

  I was going stir-crazy – just like I knew I would. A little fresh air would do me good, so I thought, why not… nobody would notice if I went for a walk in the massive woods that sprawled out behind the cabin I was currently imprisoned in.

  Duke was watching a local football game on TV and when I wandered into the kitchen, he didn’t even turn his head in my direction. I knew he’d say no if I asked him to go on a walk with me, or if I could go on one by myself, so I simply snuck out the back door from the kitchen.

  It was early fall so it wasn’t that cold out, nor was it hot, so the sweater I wore seemed to be just fine. I closed the kitchen door very quietly and set off to take a long walk and clear my head.

  As I began walking, the colorful, dead leaves crunched under my boots. They weren’t loud, but the sound kept me company as I walked. I was surrounded by Elm and Spruce trees, which were still full, but I could see bare spots in all of them, shafts of dotted sunlight slicing through and bathing my face in warmth.

  A few steps away, I spied a lone purple flower growing tall and proud from the ground. There was nothing else around it, and I went to it, crouching down to inspect it. I had no idea what kind of flower it was, but I could see the edges of its petal were beginning to turn brown. I decided it needed to be picked, so I gently plucked it from the ground and twirled it in my hands.

  “You sure are beautiful,” I said to it.

  So I’d taken to talking to flowers. Great. If Duke wasn’t such an ogre, I wouldn’t mind sitting and talking with him. But he was just a big jerk.

  I kept walking, twirling the flower in my hand as I got lost in my thoughts. I wanted to talk to Duke, ask him questions if for no other reason than to pass the time. I wanted to ask him how he got that limp, and why he ate so healthy and worked out but insisted on chewing tobacco. Which totally grossed me out. I had a feeling the two were related. Had he been shot in the line of duty and now he used nicotine to calm himself? I figured he couldn’t self-medicate with marijuana like so many did since he had a government job and probably got drug tested on the regular.

  We’d had clients at the law firm who had sought legal help for getting fired from their jobs for testing hot for drugs from their employer. We had basically turned them down, telling them we couldn’t do anything for them. It was a state law and they were out of luck. We had a couple government employees seek our help in getting back their jobs, and we couldn’t help them, either. Self-medicating or not, smoking marijuana was illegal. Well, it was in Florida. I knew other states had legalized it, but I didn’t think we’d ever see that in my home state.

  I sighed, thinking about my job. I loved being a paralegal. I was hopeful after this mess was over that I would find another job and get back to doing what I loved. That was – if I survived this mess.

  Thoughts of the threatening phone calls I’d received for days still echoed in my head. They had scared the shit out of me, and if I were honest, I was still scared. I knew I had to testify at that trial in eight days, as much as I wanted to just bury my head in the sugar white sands of the beach. What George and Elmo had done was despicable and they deserved to go to prison. The thought made me sad. The brothers had been like uncles to me during my five years of employment there, and once it sank in what they had been doing, I was just so hurt over the whole thing. And to think they had paid someone to threaten me not to testify. To call me and promise such hideous and awful things if I went into that courtroom hurt badly. It scared me, too. I hadn’t slept much in those days before the government had taken over and sent agents to protect me. If I were honest, as much of a jerk as Duke was, I was glad they had sent him to look after me. It was clear he took his job seriously, and was acting professionally – for the most part. Still, something inside of me wanted to get to know him better.

  Maybe it was the ‘fixer’ in me. My mom had always told me I wanted to fix people, and she was surprised I hadn’t become a nurse. Honestly, I’d thought about it, but I cannot stand the sight of blood and I get queasy at the slightest thing. Still, every boyfriend I’d ever had – all 3 of them since high school – were broken men whom I thought I could fix. In the end, I couldn’t, and I let them go. Or rather – two of them dumped me. All of them were users and I was glad they were out of my life. I’d been single now for two years, and as much as I longed for someone to take care of me, and admittedly, someone I could also take care of, I was mostly happy being on my own. I was proud I had bought that condo and all the stuff inside of it by myself without going into any debt, except the condo itself, of course.

  Without thinking, I began twirling the purple flower in my hand as I walked. How was I going to continue to pay the mortgage on my condo without a job? The responsible side of my brain had been niggling at me to job hunt so I wouldn’t miss a payment. I only had enough in savings to make one payment after my paychecks stopped from the law firm in which I was set to testify against in just days. But I couldn’t return to St. Petersburg and job hunt because my life was in dang
er.

  I sighed in resignation, continuing to walk, enjoying the quiet of the forest. The trees were beautiful and the air was starting to turn cool and crisp. It was a nice break from the stifling humidity of Florida that I was so used to. I’d grown up there and would never live anywhere else. That got me thinking about my parents. Supposedly, the government had sent them a vague message about how I was being taken into protective custody, but the Justice Department hadn’t even let me make one last phone call to them to reassure them that I was safe. Which in turn made me worry about their safety. Would this maniac who had been threatening me with horrific things go after them now? I wasn’t sure, but something deep inside of me knew they’d be safe, but I still worried. I was glad my only sibling, my sister, and her husband were in Hawaii visiting my cousin for the next few weeks. If I knew anything about criminals, I knew they were lazy. I didn’t think anyone would spend the time or money to fly to Hawaii to harm my sister just to get to me. That’s if they could even figure out who she was. She obviously had a different last name than me.

  As I trudged through the leaves and trees, a movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. Whipping my head around, I saw a small brown jackrabbit hopping through the trees. He was perfectly camouflaged against the forest floor, and I smiled at the little creature. It stopped briefly, parking itself on its haunches and stared at me with its beady little black eyes. Its nose twitched in curiosity and I inched ever so slowly toward it, hoping to get a closer look. When I got within five feet, he hopped away, disappearing behind some trees.

  God, what was wrong with me? Was I so deprived of any sort of interaction that I was talking to flowers and hoping to touch a wild rabbit? I felt like Snow Freaking White.

  I kept strolling, laughing at my own silliness. With the flower still clutched in my hand I continued to twirl it, looking down at it as I walked. I marveled at the yellow that spotted the inside of its petals, and began dreaming up ways I would display it in the drab and outdated kitchen of that little cabin I now found myself staying in with Duke.

  Smiling a little to myself, I checked the delicate wristwatch I wore and could see I’d been out here for 20 minutes. I’d purposely walked in circles, making sure I didn’t lose sight of the little rustic cabin and wondered if the caveman had noticed that I was gone yet. With my mind once again on Duke, I continued to walk until my legs started to tire. I spotted a tree up ahead that looked thick and sturdy enough to sit down and take a rest against and I headed toward it. I kept my eyes fixated on its trunk. It looked strong and impenetrable to anything. Smiling at how I was obviously messed up to be attracted to something so strong-looking, I shrieked in terror when I felt a set of warm arms envelop me from behind.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Blondie?” I heard a gruff voice breathe into my ear.

  My calm, melancholy mood turned to infuriation at the sound of his voice. “Get your hands off of me!” I screamed.

  Without saying another word, Duke lifted me off the ground and threw me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My face was now quite literally bouncing up and down against his rock hard ass. The one I said I’d love to bounce a quarter off of. But now, I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to find one of those thick wooden paddles with all the holes in it like we had in elementary school and paddle him with it.

  “Put me down, you ogre!” I yelled, beating my fists against his hard butt that was definitely as solid as it looked. I slammed my fists against his thighs and then his back, which did absolutely no good. I even thought I heard him chuckle as he carried me the short distance back to the cabin.

  My screams of protest went unheard. I doubted the birds, flowers, rabbit, and deer gave any shits about me being dragged back to my outdated cabin prison against my will.

  Chapter 13

  Duke

  With one hand secured around her slim waist and the other pushing her legs down against my back to keep her from falling, I walked with purpose toward the safe house. I ignored the blows and shrieks she was throwing at me and just kept walking, knowing I had no other purpose than to secure the vic into the confines of the small sanctuary the government had provided us.

  Admittedly, I had dozed off during the game I’d been watching. It was some lame local high school warmup practice during their off-season, and a small part of me felt a flick of shame that I had not stayed awake. When I’d awoken, I shook off the sleep and got up and stretched. My watch told me it was close to dinnertime, and I’d searched the small cabin for Rayanne. For once, I’d planned on being nice and asking her what she wanted for dinner.

  The panic that shrouded me as I had searched and not found her was nothing I could describe in simple words. The fact that I was being paid to protect her and keep her from harm – and then failing in that mission – sent a bolt of panic shooting through me. It was so strong, it almost brought me to my knees. As I’d wandered into the kitchen, I could still smell the faint scent of her fruity body wash. The back door that led to the woods was unlocked, and a relief like no other had washed over me. I knew, without one single doubt, that I had locked that fucking door. I was a lunatic about locked doors, and after we’d returned from our little excursion to the Walmart, I had checked to make sure that bitch was locked the second we’d returned.

  Rayanne wasn’t happy that she was draped over my shoulder, but I didn’t care one bit. I threw her onto the sofa on which I’d been sitting not moments before. She didn’t get a chance to protest before I was kneeling between her legs on that very sofa, my body hovering over hers.

  “Do not ever leave like that again,” I breathed into her face.

  “Get off me, you asshole!” she snapped, but I had to keep from laughing at her. She was no scarier than a small puppy growling at someone.

  I paused a beat before rising off the couch, wincing at the pain in my leg that had suddenly begun to shoot thanks to carrying her. It always hurt after carrying or lifting something heavy.

  Limping as least as I could, I went and sat in the armchair opposite of the couch. I put pressure on the scar, hoping it would dissipate. I looked up at Rayanne to see her angry expression gone, replaced with – was that worry? Pity? Either way, I didn’t like it.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I wouldn’t be in pain if I hadn’t had to carry your ass back in here.”

  “You didn’t have to carry me, you could have tapped me on the shoulder and asked me nicely to come back to the cabin. I would have. I was just taking a walk.”

  I huffed and continued to press my thumb into the pain while I stared into her honey-colored eyes. “Well, you’re not to take any fucking walks, strolls, or anything else without me, understand?”

  Her eyes widened momentarily and then she turned her head to the side. “You mean, you would have gone with me?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “No.”

  She looked sad and I hated that I could read her expressions so easily. She definitely wore her emotions on the outside, but I guess most chicks did.

  “Why are you so mean all the time? I just want us to get along and be nice for the next few days until this trial is over with. Is that too much to ask?”

  Who the fuck was she kidding? Nice? “Look, Blondie, I’m not here to make friends with you. I’m here to protect your life. If you think I’m being mean, I’m not. Anything I do is for your protection and safety. Do you get that? I don’t think you grasp how much danger you’re in.”

  I reached over to the side table and grabbed a plastic cup I’d kept there and spat some chew into it.

  She eyed the cup then looked at me, her arms folded over her chest. “That’s a disgusting habit, you know. You’re gonna get mouth cancer,” she said. “We had a client once who was suing…”

  I cut her off and bit back a laugh. “Why do you care if I get mouth cancer?”

  “I don’t want to see anyone get cancer. It’s awful.”

  I didn’t have an argument for that so I shoved more dip
in so I wouldn’t have to talk.

  Watching as her eyes roamed my body, they eventually landed back up to my face. Then she said, “What happened to your leg? I noticed the first day we met that you seemed to limp a little bit.”

  She was wringing her hands in her lap as she spoke. I didn’t want to answer her but decided she was the type who probably wouldn’t shut up about it so I simply said, “War injury.”

  “You’re a veteran? Which branch?”

  “Marines.”

  She nodded. “Well, thank you for your service. My daddy was in the Navy.”

  I chuckled slightly. “So was my dad. Wanted my brother and me to join, too, but we chose different branches.”

  She pointed to my leg. “Were you shot?”

  I spat into the cup and simply replied, “Shrapnel from a fuckin’ roadside bomb.”

  She visibly flinched, but I was used to that reaction. “Wow, that’s horrible. I bet you’re lucky to be alive after going through that.”

  I nodded and got up, limping to the kitchen. “Do you want to cook, or should I?” I asked to get the topic off of me.

  She got up and followed me. She stared at me hard for a few long seconds until she said, “I’d love to cook for you. Cooking relaxes me and keeps me busy.” She shoved off the doorframe and headed toward where I was standing. I leaned up against the counter next to the fridge with both arms pressed behind me on the countertop. I didn’t move when she headed toward me, her body brushing mine as she opened the door and peered inside. I watched as the light from the fridge bathed her face in a yellow glow. Biting the inside of her cheek in contemplation, I observed the way she showed all her frustration on her face. It was clear she had had something in mind for dinner, but it seemed like something was lacking.

  She sighed, but reached in and grabbed some cheese, meat, and a huge bunch of broccoli. She closed the door, and without looking at me, but certainly making sure to touch me, she glided over to the small cabinet where we stored the boxed food. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and pulled out a box of spaghetti and a large jar of spaghetti sauce. I’m not ashamed to admit that I watched with too much fascination as her ass had bounced a little when she’d reached up into the cabinet while her shirt rode up, showing tanned, fit abs. Yoga pants – who invented them anyway? Some horny teen with a fetish for soccer moms? Well, hats off to you, horny teen, you done good. Because those yoga pants had my dick growing behind my zipper.