Steel Rain: A Military Romance Collection

by A. Gorman

  This time, she didn’t argue. She slipped her shoes back on and nodded teary eyes at me and began to run.

  With the car still running, I awkwardly half-sat in the car and then cranked the gas pedal. I turned the cruise-control on, threw the car in drive, and jumped out, snatching my gun from the seat before rolling out of the car and into the dirt.

  The small sports car squealed its tires in a cloud of dust just as it went flying over the cliff. I got up and ran to where Rayanne had taken off to just in time to see the motorcycles round the corner. They screeched to a halt and seemed frozen as they watched the small car careen over the cliff. I ran ducking low, catching up to my victim as she cowered behind a large rock.

  The waterfall at the bottom of the cliff was so loud, I could barely hear anything. Grabbing Rayanne, I hugged her to me as we hid behind the large boulder.

  After a couple of seconds, I peered around the rock to see three thugs in hoodies looking over the cliff in disbelief.

  “They jumped the cliff!” Shane said, waving his handgun around carelessly. “Like Thelma and fucking Louise! They went right over!”

  Shane high-fived his buddies like the idiot he was. I then noticed one of them was a female, the other a white dude, but it was hard to get a description with their hoodies up.

  I then began ticking off my options.

  One, get up and just start shooting and hope I could hit all three.

  Two, stay here until they left.

  Three, wait for backup. Surely the other agent had given chase after he’d seen his partner – Jack Morris – get smacked with a baseball bat?

  “What now?” Rayanne mouthed in my face, her beautiful eyes wide with terror.

  I shook my head for her to be quiet. I still had the gun in my hand.

  Peering around the rock once again, all three heads were turned in our direction.

  “What the fuck?” Shane said, heading toward us.

  It was then I noticed one of the others carried some kind of sub-machine gun.

  “Time to go,” I said, grabbing Rayanne’s hand.

  Then, the shooting started. I shot back until my magazine was empty but I didn’t think I hit anyone. I hadn’t really been aiming. It was called defensive shooting to keep attackers at bay.

  We ran a few feet and realized we were out of land. I didn’t think. I just yelled “Jump!”

  With her scream in my ear, we jumped, hand-in-hand, feet-first off the cliff, falling about 30 feet down into the icy cold water at the bottom.

  Chapter 22

  Rayanne

  I gasped as my head emerged and hit the surface, freezing cold water sputtering out of my mouth as I breathed in deep, my lungs still burning. We’d not been able to keep our hands clasped as we’d hit the water.

  Frantically searching for Duke, I treaded water with my arms and legs while I spun in circles, looking for the man who’d quite literally just saved my life.

  “Duke!” I screamed out, swimming in a circle. I could hear sirens up near the cliff but ignored them.

  “Where are you?” I yelled again, tears threatening to join the beads of water already assaulting my face. My chest tightened and I choked back a sob, refusing to believe Duke wasn’t going to pop up out of the water at any minute now.

  Had he been shot? Maybe he was passed out and sinking to the bottom. I panicked even more.

  Pulling in a big lungful of air, I held it as I ducked into the water and squinted my eyes in the dark, watery murk. I spun around in a circle until something pale caught my eye. Looking down, I could see something moving fast toward me.

  Duke!

  His eyes were open wide and he was shooting up toward the surface. I too made my way up to the sunlight, gasping as I broke the surface. Duke joined me a few seconds later, breathing in hard as water trailed down his hair, face, and shoulders.

  “Duke!” I cried, grabbing his hand, pulling him weightlessly toward more shallow water. He gave no resistance, just let me drag him until we could both stand.

  He ripped off his wet and torn T-shirt and tossed it into the water. Then, wrapping both hands around me, he smoothed back my sopping wet hair. “Angel. You saved me,” he said, water dripping from his beard and lips.

  I mimicked the gesture, smoothing back his dark hair from his face and flicked my eyes between his. “No, Royal. You saved me.”

  “Tsk, tsk. Nobody says the R word.” He smirked and pushed a finger over my lips. Suddenly his smirk was gone, replaced by a somber expression. His finger stayed on my lip for a minute, then trailed down my chin as he leaned down to kiss me. It was hard, desperate, and full of so much passion, I thought I might pass out.

  When he broke it, he pulled a dripping wet hand out of the water and put it on my face. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  I nodded, my teeth taking my bottom lip hostage. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

  Duke looked up at the cliff we’d just jumped from and I followed his stare. There was nobody there.

  He looked back to me and kissed me again, pressing his hard, wet, cold body against mine. Not that I minded. When we broke apart again, I said, “Isn’t this breaking some kind of rules? Crossing some sort of professional line?”

  He ran a finger across my forehead, down my cheek, and down to my bottom lip. Staring into my eyes, he said, “Sweetheart, we’ve already crossed so many lines, we’re tripping over them.”

  I smiled at that. Not just because we were rule-breakers, but because Duke didn’t care. I didn’t care. We knew our feelings and attraction to each other didn’t obey rules like professional conduct and agent-victim protocol. We had gone from two entities to a united one. As we held each other tight, the roaring sound of the waterfalls crashing behind us, I smiled up at Duke. He was so beautiful, so strong, so courageous. Yet, in these past eight days I had managed to see the entire spectrum of emotions and sides he had. Vulnerable, strong, weak, overpowering, sexual, protective. And not one of them turned me off. I loved everything he had put out and more.

  Yes, I loved Royal Wayne “Duke” Hawthorne. I had fallen in love with him some time during that long cabin stay we’d had. I wasn’t going to deny it or question it. There was no way this wasn’t pure, unadulterated love I felt for him – and judging by the way he looked at me, he loved me, too. I knew this because the look he gave me whenever he stared into my eyes was how I pictured my own staring back at him.

  Chapter 23

  Duke

  We waded our way to the rocky shore and began looking for a way back up to the cliff.

  “What are we gonna do?” Rayanne asked me, my hand clasped in hers, fear dancing in her eyes. Her body began to shiver from the cold.

  “There was another agent in the car where Morris had been. Surely he saw what happened and has called for backup,” I answered. The question had been on my mind, too. I could hear sirens getting closer.

  She nodded and we looked around. I spotted a small path that started on the rocky shore and began wounding its way up. “There,” I pointed, beginning to shiver myself.

  I led her over to it, and we began climbing up. Her hand gripped mine tightly, and I made sure I had a good grip on her. I wasn’t letting her go.

  Once we reached the top, there were police cars and people everywhere. Most of them were just pulling up. Two dudes in ties ran over to us as soon as we were spotted. I saw one yell for help and a paramedic near a waiting ambulance grabbed something out of the back of his rig.

  “Hawthorne?” one of the guys said to me. “We’re so glad you’re ok. We were just about to send divers down there.”

  “Well you’ll need them to fish out the car,” I said dryly.

  A paramedic came up with two blankets and wrapped one around each of us. I had to let go of her hand in order for him to do it, but I didn’t like it. I glared at him.

  “Thank you,” Rayanne said, her teeth chattering.

  “I’m Special Agent Cade O’Neill, and this is Agent Michael Diaz,” th
e guy who’d spoken first said, then pointed to his partner.

  I nodded and said, “Did you get the suspect? She can I.D. him?” I pointed to Rayanne.

  His eyebrows knit together. “Not yet, but agent Morris’s partner, Adkins, can I.D. him, too.”

  “His name is Shane Watson,” Rayanne said between chattering teeth.

  O’Neill nodded at her.

  “How is Morris?” I asked, suddenly feeling sick at the thought that he could have died.

  “Head injury, they life-flighted him to Richmond.”

  I nodded sadly. “Keep me posted, okay?”

  We were led to the back of the ambulance where I reluctantly let the paramedics do their jobs, taking our temperature, blood pressure, and checking us over. My eyes did not leave Rayanne for one minute. I knew my time with her was limited since they hadn’t caught Shane and his cronies yet. I was trying to memorize her face, even though I knew I had already done that the first time I’d laid eyes on her.

  She looked over at me, an intensity in her eyes I had never seen except when we’d been in that bedroom, and I suppressed a shudder. I could tell she was having the same thoughts I was.

  When we were cleared by the paramedics and given medical scrubs to change into, agent O’Neill said, “We need to take her, Hawthorne.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where.” It wasn’t a question because I already knew the answer.

  He shook his head of salt-and-pepper hair, his gray eyes and crow’s feet around them crinkling in sympathy. “Sorry, man, you know I can’t. And honestly, I don’t even know yet.”

  “Who’s her new agent?” I asked.

  He pointed at his partner, who was leaned up against their white government ride, texting. I sized him up. Dark, shiny black hair cut in a modern style, olive skin, square jaw, young. Good-looking, good dresser. I tried to beat down my insecurity, because the guy was just doing his fucking job and he probably didn’t want to deal with it. But it was only temporary, I knew, and hoped they would just lock her up somewhere safe, like headquarters, until the trial.

  I nodded my thanks at O’Neill and went to the car where Rayanne was about to get in. “Can I have a minute?” I asked Diaz.

  “Sure, man. But we leave in two.”

  My jaw pulsed but I said nothing. I watched him walk a safe distance away, then turned and looked at her. She was staring up at me with unshed tears glimmering in her topaz eyes. “Don’t cry. The trial’s almost here. Diaz will keep you safe.” I stopped and shook my head. “Safer than I managed to, obviously.”

  A single tear escaped and traveled down her pale cheek. “Don’t do that, Duke. I already told you I don’t blame you.”

  “I will see you in a few days, I promise. I’ll be at the trial. I’m not gonna miss it.”

  That seemed to make her a little happy. “Thank you.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. Against everything, I leaned down and wrapped my arms around her, trying to warm her up. She was still so cold and shivering, and pang of guilt shot through me. When we broke apart, I used my thumb to wipe away another tear. “I’m sorry.”

  Diaz returned and interrupted us. He opened the passenger side door and instructed Rayanne to get in. As she rounded the car, I said, “Hey.”

  She stopped and looked at me.

  “I’m sorry about your books,” I said, trying to smile.

  She grinned sadly. “Those can easily be replaced, Duke.”

  I got the feeling there was a double meaning there, but I was too fucked up in the head with what was going on to realize she meant me. I knew I had a long drive ahead of me, and would have plenty of time to think it over.

  * * *

  Agent O’Neill had the exciting chore of being in charge of driving me back to Florida. It wasn't as if I could drive another government vehicle, rent a car, or fly in a plane without ID. I was truly fucked.

  He had tried making small-talk during the 12-hour drive. He’d told me that they were going to have the car fished out of the river, but doubted anything would be salvageable. My guns, my wallet, my FBI badge, clothing, Rayanne’s stuff… it was all shit by now, I’m sure. And I was sure I’d catch another disciplinary detail for wrecking one of the FBI’s precious drug-dealer seized cars.

  Not that I gave a shit.

  I wondered if she was okay. I wondered if Diaz was taking good care of her. I wondered where he had taken her. I wondered if he was eye-fucking her, wanted her. Gritting my teeth together, I had to let it go.

  “Can I use your phone, man?” I asked O’Neill.

  He nodded and pulled his smartphone from the pocket of his shirt. “Sure.”

  I swiped the screen and dialed my brother. He answered on the third ring.

  “Detective Oliver,” he said, obviously not knowing who was calling.

  “Hey, brother,” I said, a small smile on my lips on hearing a familiar voice.

  “Duke!” he exclaimed. I could hear the smile in his voice. “How are you?”

  I sighed and slid my free hand down my beard, wishing I had some chew. “I’ve been better, but I’m alive. It’s been a freakshow up here, man.”

  “Wow, really? Can you tell me about it?”

  I glanced at O’Neill and pulled the phone from my ear. “Hey, my brother’s Tampa PD. Can I give him the details from today?”

  He shot me a worried look then put his eyes back on the road. “If he’s PD and you trust him, I suppose. But keep in mind it’s still an active investigation.”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, man. You’re not gonna believe this shit.”

  I started at the beginning, the cabin, the boring days, then to Agent Morris being assaulted, then our exhilarating dive off the cliff and then Rayanne being taken away by Diaz. What I left out was all the personal shit Rayanne and I had gone through. Not only was I not sure I was ready to tell Mason that, I most certainly didn’t need O’Neill hearing it. He’d get his tighty-whiteys in a twist and probably drop a memo on me. No fuckin’ thanks.

  “Wow, that’s some crazy shit, man,” my brother said. “But I get the feeling you’re leaving something out.”

  I chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Of course I am.”

  “Well, what is it?” he asked, and I could just picture his dark eyebrows dipping together in concern on his too-pretty face.

  “You know I can’t tell you that, dude.”

  Thankfully, my brother knew me better than anyone and let it drop. So I simply said, “I’ll be back in town late tonight. I got a fuck-load of paperwork to do tomorrow, but when I get off work, I’ll meet you at Murphy’s and if you get me drunk enough, I might spill.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, man. Be safe. Glad you’re okay.”

  “Me too,” I said, hanging up.

  * * *

  When I finally got home, I was bushed. Beyond bushed. Thankfully, Kyle was still at my house and I’d called him from O’Neill’s phone to let him know I’d be pulling up, because God knows where my keys were. Buried under some rock at the bottom of that river, I suppose.

  “Hey, man!” Kyle said, opening the door after I’d rung the bell.

  It was after midnight and it didn’t even dawn on me until after I rang the bell that I might wake up his kid.

  Lucy ran up to me and licked my hand, and I petted her golden head. “Hey, girl.” She nuzzled her face against my leg.

  “Night-night time, Lucy,” Kyle said to the dog. She went trotting back to the bedrooms.

  “Hey, man. Hope I didn’t wake up your boy.”

  He chuckled, limping over to the kitchen with me following – also limping. We were quite a sight, the two of us disabled vets. “Nah, that kid can sleep through anything.”

  I nodded. “Awesome.”

  He looked me up and down. “You do surgery today, doc?”

  I gazed down at my scrubs. “Shit, this was all they gave me to wear. I need a hot shower STAT.” My attempt at a doctor joke.

  He smil
ed at that but something looked sad about it. I didn’t have the energy to ask him about it, because obviously I was a tired, selfish asshole at the moment. He turned and pulled something out of the microwave and set it in front of me.

  “I made a lasagna. Want a piece?”

  My mouth watered staring at the greasy, cheesy lump of pasta and meat. “Yes.”

  He laughed and handed me a fork, then rested himself against the counter. As I ate, I looked at his tattooed arms, his preppie blonde hair, and the prosthetic left leg extending out from under his shorts below the knee. Poor fucking bastard. I really did need to stop pitying the guy. First off, he had told me to stop a long time ago. Secondly, I bet his leg didn’t hurt anymore like mine did. All the fucking time.

  “This is damn good, Adams,” I said, scraping the rest of the meal from my plate.

  “Thanks. You okay, man?” he asked, looking concerned.

  I nodded. “I will be. I just need my own damn bed.”

  “I hear ya. Luke and I will be gone tomorrow, thanks for letting us stay.”

  “It’s me who owes you. I wouldn’t have slept well at night if you hadn’t been watching my place. Stay as long as you want. I mean it.”

  He smiled and I walked to my bedroom and closed the door. The shower was quick but hot, and after throwing on some shorts, I slid into bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  Chapter 24

  Rayanne

  I wrapped my arms around myself and sat on the hotel room’s bed somewhere in bum-fuck Georgia. This was the most awkward situation ever.

  Agent Diaz sat on the other queen-sized bed of the room. His back to me, doing something on his phone. He wore a white T-shirt and sweatpants. His one and only duffel bag sat next to his bed, and his gun lay next to his thigh as he sat there.

  The TV was on, and I was pretending to be engrossed in whatever was on it, but I wasn’t. I was scared, confused, upset, and most of all… missing Duke. Just when I had grown comfortable with him, he’d been ripped away from me. I was stuck with Mr. Stiff Pants over there. He reminded me of the cute FBI agent from the movie Miss Congeniality who was all stuffy and bossy. Except unlike Sandra Bullock’s character, there would be no falling for this guy.