by SE Jakes
“We’re going to have to go back out through the catacombs,” he told them, and they followed him quickly down the stairs. He stopped them before they went through. “Are either of you hurt?”
Because in these jungles, wounds got ugly fast.
“No, they didn’t hurt us. I’m Sarah—this is Kevin.”
“Keith.” He shook her hand. “I’m going to get you both home.”
She nodded and squeezed her son’s shoulder. “We’ll do whatever you say.”
And they did, followed him fast through the underground, climbed out of the big hole and into the jungle with nary a complaint. Halfway through the walk, Keith picked the boy up and slung him over his shoulder so no branches would catch his face, told him to hang on and they picked up the pace.
It was too damned easy. And whenever things went this well, they went tits up just as fast. But he had the boy on his back and the mom holding his belt and keeping up and he just kept marching forward. Because that was his goddamned motto in life, keep marching forward and leave the other shit behind.
Until he had to break course and head in the other direction, thanks to a band of soldiers roaming the jungles. Whether or not they were searching for him or others, it made no difference. He’d quickly become a target.
He sent out a distress message to Mick, knowing that Reed would get it as well. These were the times he depended on them to get him the hell out of the jungle.
Shane was on his feet in front of the desk where Reed sat before he’d fully woken up. He remained there, dazed, swaying, the blanket falling off his shoulders as he stretched to shake the sleep off him. He blinked a few times, yawned a few more and rubbed his cheeks with his palms.
Reed grinned at him. “Old military habits die hard.”
“Tell me about it.” He massaged the back of his neck, stiff from the way he’d slept. “I guess I abandoned you.”
“Not really. Nice to have another warm body in the room, no matter the state of consciousness.” Reed bit his bottom lip as he typed something and then moved closer to the screen. “There’s still some coffee left.”
“I’ll stick with soda.”
“I’ll take one,” Reed said. Shane padded to the kitchen, grabbed a couple of Cokes and some Twinkies and headed back into the office. The fire was still going strong in the living room, and outside, the storm was definitely picking up. Pretty soon, the porch would be completely covered again, much the way it had been when he’d stumbled literally over it and landed with a bang against the front door.
He handed Reed a soda and tried to hold on to the cakes possessively, but Reed grabbed one for himself, gave Shane a smirk. “I hid the chocolate.”
“I found it and rehid it,” he said, and Reed’s face furrowed into a frown.
“You can’t fuck with a man’s vices like that,” he muttered, and Shane ignored him in favor of stuffing the golden sponge cake that would survive any nuclear attack into his mouth.
He wanted to walk to the other side of the desk and take a look at things for himself, but didn’t want to be all that presumptuous.
“What’s he doing?” he asked instead around a mouthful of Twinkie. When Reed just stared at him, he washed it down with the cold soda before continuing, “I mean, can you tell me anything more specific?”
“Freeing hostages,” Reed said.
“How many?”
“A mom and her son. Dad’s a diplomat.”
“So they’re collateral for the rebels in return for what, a vote?”
“Something like that.” Reed handed him a file folder and Shane flipped through, his stomach churning as he read along.
“Keith’s in real danger.”
“Always.”
“And he’s alone?”
“For this part. Force Recon, remember? He can take on the world.” But he was worried too, just refusing to admit it. “He carries a chip so I can track his movements.”
“Do you guys ever go on missions together?”
“All the time.”
He opened his mouth to ask, why not this time, but he knew and that sat like a rock in his stomach. He went to stand up, not sure where to go when Reed’s hand came down on his forearm.
“Yeah, we split up this time because you’re here and you need someone to take care of you. And don’t give me that pissed-off look because you know it’s true. It’s not a big deal. We don’t do every job together and neither of us minded Keith flying solo on this one.”
“I’ll bet Keith minded.”
“Maybe a little more than I did,” Reed admitted with a slight twist of his lip. “But he’ll get over it.”
Shane swallowed hard, trying to reconcile the two sides of the Marine he’d seen so far. Tough-guy asshole and gentle, let-me-touch-your-face guy. Then again, Shane wasn’t exactly one who could complain about hiding things from strangers.
But these two men had become the farthest thing from strangers in a short amount of time. And he sat there on the couch and listened to music and thumbed through a week’s worth of newspapers idly as Reed traced Keith’s movements. It went on for hours and Shane refused to leave or sleep again, because he’d become invested when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. This was one stop of many, and he had to move on.
Except he wasn’t pushing to leave and they weren’t exactly showing him the door.
Suddenly, Reed’s entire demeanor changed. It would be impossible to tell for the most part, but Shane wasn’t most people.
“What’s wrong?”
Reed shook his head and typed, then started pulling out books and looking through them. Shane fisted his hands so hard his nails bit into his skin, forced himself to breathe calmly, not to bother Reed when he was obviously working through something major.
But… “Reed, let me help. I can help.”
Reed looked at him for a moment, narrowed his eyes as if assessing that fact and then nodded.
“Take this.” Reed handed him an iPad. “Try to find me a recent map,” he added as he rattled off coordinates.
Shane recognized the numbers almost immediately but pulled the map of the country up anyway. “Got it.”
“I need a way out that doesn’t include the water.”
He stared at the map, hyper-focused on the area Keith was currently in. Probably hiding in the jungles behind the embassy. “Is he moving west?”
“Yes, toward the bridge.”
“There’s no bridge there,” Shane told him.
“There’s a bridge.”
“There’s not,” he insisted.
Reed looked at him. “When’s the last time you were in country?”
“Seven months ago. I blew up the fucking bridge.”
Reed blew out a long breath, cursed and muttered something along the lines of, “You win.”
“Tell him if he goes through the road that branches away from the bridge—the one through the jungle—it’ll lead out to a farm. It looks like it’ll take you over a cliff but it doesn’t.” He held his breath, not wanting any more questions but wanting Keith to just get the hell out of there safely.
Reed typed. Then picked up a phone and barked to someone who Shane assumed wasn’t Keith. The person on the other line cursed but Reed held to Shane’s assertions and finally, he heard a grudging acceptance.
Reed hung up and tapped his fingers as they waited through the silence. Shane estimated it would be at least fifteen minutes before they heard if Keith got through, especially if he’d been successful with the hostages.
“He’s not traveling alone, right?” Shane couldn’t help but break the silence to ask.
“No, he got the hostages out.” Reed said.
That meant Keith’s job was halfway done. It was going to be a long night. It was almost five in the morning now, but the storm raged in earnest and it would look black as night for most of the daylight hours anyway.
“It’s always easier when you’re the one in it, no matter how bad it is,” he heard himself say. At lea
st that had always been his experience.
Reed glanced up from the computer for a moment, his expression dark, his hand on his chin. “Not always, Shane.” And then his expression shuttered again into the stoic soldier.
Shane let that sink in as he counted the seconds in his head while pretending to read the paper. Wasn’t fooling Reed but he was sure Reed appreciated it. Even his toes ached from the tension of sitting so damned still and waiting and praying he was right. Because he couldn’t have more deaths on his head.
If you hadn’t said anything, there could’ve been deaths too…
No matter what, he’d had to say something.
After what seemed like forever but was actually under the time Shane figured Keith could hump it with civilians, Reed typed something and sighed. Said, “He’s back at the LZ and just boarding the helo. He’ll be home tomorrow morning, with any luck.”
Shane smiled and stretched. “You gonna sleep now?”
“Not until he’s home,” Reed told him.
Chapter Nine
Shane slept on and off for the next day and a half, woke when he heard the door, his old instincts beginning to kick in. Reed went past him, giving him a light touch to his shoulder, letting him know he’d seen Shane stir.
Shane wasn’t sure if he’d be intruding on a private moment but couldn’t help himself. Even coming from the most successful mission, decompression was necessary and Shane wondered how Keith would act.
He wrapped the blanket around him to ward off the cold that always hit the body after two in the morning, no matter how many layers you wore. He watched Reed embrace the returning Marine, who’d set his bags down to return the hug.
Now, he was whispering something to Reed, his face intense, but then Reed laughed and Keith’s eyes met Shane’s.
“Hey,” was all he could think of, and Keith nodded. Didn’t seem angry, just not completely back yet. But he looked completely content in Reed’s arms, and Shane felt a sharp pang of jealousy hit him…and he wasn’t sure at first which one he was jealous of.
He realized it was both…and neither. He wanted to join both of them, not get in between them. And that revelation made his head throb.
“Shane, you look a little pale,” Keith said, and Shane cursed himself for ruining their moment.
“No, stay. I’m fine. Keep…ah, doing what you’re doing,” he assured them, slipped back into the office and sat on the couch.
He heard their whispers, wondered if they were conferring about him or going about their other business of reuniting. He hoped for the latter, he thought as he lay curled on the cool leather, because he liked being in here, had come to think of it as the war room.
That was a place he was used to.
You almost gave away your hand, he reminded himself. Would have to be more careful from here on out. When he was sick, he wasn’t talking, helping these men. But now that he was on the mend, the urge to do shit, to get back to his former self, before Kyle, was taking over.
Reed let Keith eat before insisting on checking him over. He knew the company who hired them had someone do that anyway as part of the mission protocol, but Reed always double-checked. Keith always grumbled, but conceded, mainly because he knew it was easier than arguing.
He found contusions, scratches, all expected. He’d already been put on a heavy-duty antibiotic, since jungles and infections did not mix.
“Gonna clear me, Doc?” Keith asked finally, his hands circling Reed’s wrists as Reed looked down at him. They’d done the impromptu exam in the kitchen and were still conscious that Shane was close.
“You might have to try a little harder to get me to sign off on you,” Reed told him now, and Keith raised a brow.
“You’ll get it harder, if that’s what you want,” he said quietly, and Reed’s body ached at those words.
He straddled Keith’s lap, leaned in to him. “Missed you. So did Shane.”
Keith put his hands on Reed’s hips and moved him back to glare at him. “Why are you pushing this?”
“Why are you resisting?”
“We don’t know him.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Besides, he gives a shit about us.”
“How do you know that?”
“He was trying to stay up while you were gone.”
“You let him track me?”
“Come on, Keith, you know I’d never put you in danger.” Reed paused. “But he was the one who told me about the bridge and the road.”
Keith glared at him.
“I had no reason not to trust him.”
“And no reason to trust him. Come on, Reed, there’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“Like what? He was a Ranger. It’s perfectly logical that he would’ve been in the area blowing shit up seven months ago.”
“He was discharged eight months ago,” Keith bit out.
“So he got some dates mixed up. We’ve all done that—it’s hard to remember timing in combat situation, and blowing up a bridge counts.”
“Someone’s mixed up, for sure.”
“Ah, fuck you. And I know you won’t admit it, but the bridge was gone, right?” Reed shoved his boots on and headed outside, needing to clear his head. Keith followed in short order, shutting the door behind him, the howl of the wind giving them some much-needed privacy.
“Reed, we’ve got to cut him off. We don’t know him, don’t know what he’s capable of. Just because he was right about a bridge…”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of him? Big, strong Marine like yourself?” Reed shot back and knew he was pushing it. But that was the only way to get Keith to accept anything—Reed’s head hurt from the amount of times he had to be the battering ram at Keith’s door.
And he always won—always.
He wasn’t wrong when he’d showed up at the door eight years earlier, to find Bobby and Keith inside, sharing dinner and watching TV. Wasn’t wrong when he’d stripped for them and let them fuck him, sandwiching himself between their bodies and the soft cotton sheets that had been like heaven.
He’d come home—he’d known that. And he wasn’t about to let Shane walk away—or have Keith push him out.
“I’m not scared—I’m sensible. This kid has been through hell. Combat. I think you remember what that’s like,” Keith challenged, but his eyes had glazed for a second, that faraway place that signaled he was thinking of his time in and the things he’d seen and done. Reed knew he’d recognized the PTSD in Shane for sure…which meant he’d also know they were the best ones to help him. “You’re too fucking impulsive, Reed.”
“And you usually like it.” He was spiraling—fast. He and Keith had been having sex—quiet sex—since Shane had arrived, and it had been barely enough to pull him back from the edge. He needed—wanted—craved more. And Keith could give it to him.
As much as he resisted—and he would really, truly resist—he would know, in the aftermath, that it was the right thing. He’d discovered it the first time Keith and Bobby had taken him in hand and showed him that he could find some peace through submitting to two dominating men.
“I am going to fuck that stubbornness right out of you.” Keith spoke the words quietly, but they echoed in Reed’s ears despite the storm.
“You can try,” Reed told him. “But maybe I’ll fuck you first.”
Keith went after him, but Reed was ready. They crashed through the door, Reed barely able to close it behind him, thanks to the wind, before Keith was ripping at his clothes and pushing him toward the bedroom at the same time.
“Shane is—” he started, but Keith cut him off, his voice low and dangerous. “Should’ve thought of that before you started with me. Maybe next time you’ll learn your lesson.”
“I’ve learned plenty,” Reed spat at him as Keith shoved him into the bedroom. Reed’s jeans were down around his ankles and he tripped his way into the room. The door caught on the rug, closed most of the way but Reed couldn’t worry about that now. His mind reeled and s
urvival instincts gripped him tightly.
He heard himself practically wheeze, even as Keith caught him and yanked at the wet jeans with no finesse. Reed ripped Keith’s shirt off and broke the zipper on the big man’s jeans as well. He’d give as good as he got.
But even though he knew the inevitable would happen tonight—that Keith would win and Reed would end up with Keith’s cock buried deep inside him—Reed still fought. Tonight, for some reason, that was important.
He’d topped Keith before—not often—not nearly as often as Bobby had been allowed to, but it all somehow worked—three pieces of a seamless puzzle when they fell into bed, nuzzling and sucking and fucking until they couldn’t come anymore.
Reed remembered coming home late some nights from a house call to find Bobby and Keith tangled in the bed or heard them fucking against the kitchen counters.
Sometimes, it was so fucking hot all he had to do was watch for a few minutes and he’d come hard in his pants. Like a wet dream without the sleep.
Sometimes, more often than not, he’d join them, end up pulled between the two powerful men, commanded and obeying like the good soldier he’d once been.
The Army had put him through college and med school, and had given him a wicked case of PTSD as a parting gift.
Bobby and Keith had eased all his burdens.
“You gonna calm down now?” Keith asked, backing off a little. Reed was naked, Keith just about there, and for a long moment, there was a standoff. Reed could get out of this.
Now, he slammed Keith, who fell back, surprised. But that didn’t matter—he was up again, taking Reed to the ground. Ripping what was left of his soaked shirt off in a frenzy and rock hard, the way Reed had been since the argument began. Not giving a shit that they weren’t alone in the house, because they were both beyond that.