by Drake, J. L.
“Do you hurt?” he asks in a tight voice.
“Not in the way you’re thinking.”
Just my heart.
I hear him swallow loudly and clear his throat. I know it is all hitting him now. We lie tangled, letting each be strong for the other while we take turns to grieve.
“I love you, Savannah,” he whispers.
“I love you too, Cole.”
Chapter Three
Cole
Cole wakes to an empty bed, noticing Savannah laid out his painkillers and a bottle of water for him. He downs the two pills and heads for a much-needed shower. It takes him longer than normal to get dressed, which is annoying as he also has to change the dressing on his staples. The cut is healing well and the infection is gone; he just has to wait a week before he can get the staples pulled. He makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen where Abigail is baking something and talking quietly to his mother.
“How’d you sleep, dear?” his mother asks him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She looks him over silently, probably to satisfy herself that he is really here and in one piece.
“Fine.” He yawns and reaches for the coffee.
Keith enters the kitchen and comes up next to Cole, looking out the window.
“Thanks, Keith,” Cole says quietly, “for taking care of her when I couldn't and for stopping her—”
“Don’t thank me. Savi is like a sister. I’m just glad you’re back.”
Speaking of her… “Do you know where she is?”
“Dr. Roberts.”
“Really?” Abigail and Sue both say at the same time.
“Yeah, I know.” Keith turns to them.
Cole looks around the room, seeing their faces. “Why are we surprised?”
Sue shakes her head. “She stopped the sessions after we found out you were…gone. I guess she just needed some time to sort things out on her own.”
Cole leans back against the island, feeling beat even though he just got up. He checks the time, as he has a meeting with the guys in his office in fifteen. His stomach flutters when he hears her voice down the hallway.
“It’s therapeutic, Savannah,” he hears Dr. Roberts say. “Sometimes things that used to bring you comfort can still help you heal new wounds and old wounds too.”
“Maybe,” she sniffs. “It’s just it makes me think of him, and it’s hard to know where to place those feelings right now.”
“I understand and that makes perfect sense. Try to pull from the old happy memories. You need to find a release, and this sounds like a perfect way to do it.”
“I prefer Mark’s way better,” she huffs, rounding the corner.
“You’ll get the poor guy fired, if Logan finds out.” Dr. Roberts smiles when he sees everyone staring at them as they enter the kitchen. “Hi, Cole, it’s great to see you looking well.” He extends his hand for a shake. Before Cole leans back, he reaches for Savannah and guides her to his side, needing her to ground him. She nuzzles and molds herself to him.
“How was the session?” Cole asks.
“Good.” Dr. Roberts smiles at Savannah. “But I’m sorry, I must get going.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Abigail jumps to her feet.
Cole leans down and kisses Savannah on her head. “I have a video conference, but will you come see me afterward?”
“Sure.” She gives him a smile, but he can see she is raw from her session. She leans up and gives him a kiss.
“Oh, Savannah,” Abigail holds up a spoon full of cookie dough, “can you taste this? Something’s missing.”
Savannah’s face goes funny as she moves to Abigail’s side. She runs her fingers delicately over the top of the red Mixmaster.
“Something wrong, dear?”
“My mother,” she whispers through a tiny smile, “she used to have one just like this. Cherry red.” Her eyes light up. “I haven’t seen one in years.”
Abigail kisses her cheek, making Savannah notice everyone is staring at her. She takes the spoon and tastes the dough. “A pinch of cocoa powder.”
“That’s it!” Abigail shouts, giving her a hug. “Maybe I should leave the baking to you.”
Cole smiles at the interaction between Savannah and Abigail, and leaves the kitchen to head to the conference room.
“How’s the…?” Mark points to his side as he takes a seat at a large table in a conference room downstairs.
“Annoying,” Cole grunts out, feeling the burn from within his deep cut.
“I bet it is.” He winks. Classic Mark, he’s always thinking about food or getting laid.
Guess that’s not such a bad obsession.
Daniel, Keith, Paul, and John take their seats around the table while Cole fires up his laptop and gets Frank on the conference call. His face flashes on the large screen on the wall, and Cole centers the microphone between them.
“Logan, good to have you back.” Frank nods as he rustles some papers on his desk.
“Good to be back. How is Mills doing?”
“All things considered, he’ll be just fine. Has a long road to recovery, though.”
Cole spends the next hour going over every detail of what happened. Meanwhile, Frank is emailing his snapshots of the two main men were who were helping The American, and one recent one of Luka Donavan, still in Mexico.
“Strange that he’s still there,” Cole says, leaning back in his seat. “I would have thought he’d be hightailing it back to New York to warn the mayor I’m gone. They know they screwed up by telling their dirty little secret.” All the men look at Cole, clearly wondering what he’s referring to. “Luka and Lynn,” he explains, “her best friend and family friend, are the two who are behind this whole shit storm.”
“What?” Mark nearly chokes on his coffee. “You mean to tell me that Savannah's only real family, the woman she talks about all the time, is behind her kidnapping?”
“Yes.” Cole nods. “Not only was she behind it, but she hired a guy to pose as a potential client for the company to take Savannah out and to get her home at the right time for those savages to take her.”
“What about her father?” Frank asks, fishing for a lead. “Anything there?”
“According to Donavan, when her father got word she had been kidnapped and Luka was behind it, he decided his little pistol was better off staying with Los Sirvientes Del Diablo than to be there with him getting in his way.” Cole makes a face. “He is up for reelection, and with his daughter being kidnapped his votes skyrocketed. He knew she was eventually going to be killed, and dear old Dad did nothing about it. He completely wrote her off.”
“This is insane,” Keith mutters, getting up from his chair. “How do you tell her something like this?”
“You don’t,” Frank says, moving toward the camera. “Until we have proof of this, Savannah is not going to hear about it. She's been through enough already.”
Cole glances at his father, who is watching him. His father shakes his head, agreeing with Frank's decision.
Shit.
Cole drops his gaze, knowing it’s best right now to keep quiet. She’s been through too much.
Mark turns to Frank. “Okay, so what now?”
“Now, we start to dig.”
***
Savannah
I lie down on the floor and shimmy myself under the branches of the Christmas tree. It was something I always did as a child, looking up at the lights and enjoying how they lit up the needles and made it look so pretty. It is a peaceful thing I haven’t done in a long time.
Scoot finds me in a matter of seconds and jams up next to my side, purring for affection. His big brown eyes close as I rub his belly.
I take a deep breath through my nose and let the smell take me away to a childhood memory where my mother and I chopped off a few branches to make a door to the snow fort we had worked on all afternoon. Dad came out with a tray of hot chocolates with marshmallows, and we all crammed into the fort and enjoyed our snack.
I hear
a click and bend my head to see who it is. I find Keith holding a camera and grinning at me. He kneels down and turns the camera around so I can see the picture. I laugh when I see Scoot’s and my legs sticking out from the bottom of the tree.
“Now that’s funny.” He offers me a hand to stand. “Cole asked if I could find you to see if you’d join him for lunch. He’s just finishing up some paperwork in his office.”
“The man never stops, does he?”
“Nope.”
Hearing my heels click on the wooden floor makes me shake my head. I didn’t think I would be happy walking back to his office again. The door is already open, so I poke my head around and see him, arms crossed, standing in front of his huge floor to ceiling window. He looks powerful and strong, making me grin as I step further into the room. He’s still here with me.
He must have heard me because he slowly turns and graces me with a smile that hits me right in the center of my heart. “I was beginning to think you stood me up,” he teases.
“I was just admiring the view.” I make my way over to him and tuck myself into his side. “What were you just thinking about?”
His grip tightens on my hip but he doesn’t say anything for a moment then kisses my head and asks if I am hungry.
“I am.” I give him a wink.
“First…” He laughs, heading over to his desk and pulling out a square, flat box. He comes back and hands it to me. “Merry Christmas.”
I slide it out of his hands and pull at the bow. I peel back the top and my breathing nearly stops. “How did you get this?”
“I have my ways.” He leans in and grants me a soft kiss on the cheek. I swallow hard as my fingers stroke the record signed by Flat Street Tony. The very record that used to hang on my living room wall. But even more surprising is what is under it. My chin begins quiver.
“Oh,” I whisper.
“I hope it’s okay that I—”
“Yes,” I laugh through a sob, “this one was my favorites of us.” My heart lodges in my throat as I hold the 8x10 photograph of my mother and me, when I was ten, at a carnival. “Thank you Cole, truly it means the world to me.” I smile up at him, feeling my love for this man growing more and more. “I can't believe you were able to get these for me!”
“I’ll do anything to put that smile on your face, baby.”
“That I don’t doubt.”
We settle in on the couch and eat our lunch and make small talk, but I can sense he has something to tell me.
“I have to leave in three days,” he finally blurts out.
My heart jumps out of my chest. I know it would run right out the door if it could, just to avoid any more pain. He must sense this, because his hands grab mine quickly.
“It’s not what you think. Team Blackstone is going to help with a special training exercise for the Green Berets.” I feel my body go slack, allowing my heart to slowly recover. “Normally we’d be heading to North Carolina to Camp Mackall, but due to the sheer volume of candidates this year, we're doing the training at Camp Green Water here in Montana.”
“I didn’t know you guys helped out with the training.”
“We don’t have to, but we volunteer our time. Plus I’m looking for a new recruit. Derek won’t be staying on for much longer, and nothing is better than a fresh soldier I can mold.”
“Derek is leaving?” I feel kind of sad. We have become friends over these last few weeks.
“No, not really.” His eyes darken. “Frank has another position for him. He’s a good solider, but he doesn’t fit if he isn’t trusted.”
I want to argue but I decide against it. Cole makes logical decisions, so if Derek is to leave, it’s for a good reason. “How long will you be gone?”
“Two weeks.”
“Oh.” My stomach twists.
He squeezes my hand. “I’m only going to be thirty minutes from here.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“Yes, will you come visit me?”
“Can I?”
“Yes.” He grins. “I don’t want to go very long without seeing you, Savi.”
I swallow hard, trying to sort out my nerves. “Me either.”
***
“Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” everyone shouts, raising champagne flutes in the air.
I glance over and see Dr. Roberts sneak a quick kiss from Abigail. Mark sees it too. He rolls his eyes and looks away, muttering something about “that better be all he’s expecting tonight.”
I turn my attention to Cole, who has a wicked grin on his face. “Psssst,” I whisper as I sit my glass down on the mantel and flick my finger in his direction. “This is the part where you kiss me.”
He steps closer. “Then a kiss, Ms. Miller, you shall receive.” He quickly grabs my head with one hand and the other runs up the length of my spine. With one fluid motion he dips and kisses me until I am breathless. My world tilts as his lips work magic, waking up every single nerve in my body. When he pulls away I realize everyone is clapping for us. I am thankful it is dark, because I feel my face turns at least three shades of red at that moment.
Cole chuckles as he pulls me to my feet.
“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic, Colonel.” That is a lie, but I can’t think of anything else to say. I run my hand through my hair, taking a moment to calm myself. I pick up my glass and peer down into the empty flute. “Cole?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think you could help me with something?”
“Of course, what’s up?”
“Can we speak in your office?” I start to walk.
He reaches for my hand and we head for his office. He punches in the code and lets me enter first.
“You want something from the bar?” he asks, walking over to pour himself a brandy.
“No.” I pause by his desk and slip my dress off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I step out and hop onto his desk, wearing a black and red lace bra, matching cheeky panties, and my black heels. “I had something else in mind.”
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” he asks as he turns to look at me. His jaw drops as his eyes rake down me and a shameless grin spreads across his lips.
“You on top of me on your desk.” I pat the surface then lean back and rest on my arms. “Come bang in the New Year, baby.” I grin, feeling oddly bold, but that’s what Cole does to me, and I love it.
In three strides he’s in front of me with his shirt off, both hands on my knees, gazing down at me.
“How did I ever get so lucky?” he whispers. “Will I hurt you?”
I reach for his hand and pull him down so he is close to me. “Cole, I’m fine. You won’t hurt me. Nothing was damaged there.” I arch my breasts into his chest, reach for his belt buckle, and yank it open. “I need to feel you.”
Cole stands up, pulling his pants down and kicking them out of the way. He reaches under my knees and pulls my butt to the end of the desk. He leans down and kisses my stomach up to my bra and stops at my neck.
“I will never tire of feeling your silky skin,” he says between kisses. “I love the way you smell.”
“Cole,” I whisper as I run my hands across his strong back. My heartbeat is a hammer in my chest.
“The way you say my name is like it is made solely for your sweet lips.”
I hear a ripping sound, and my panties sail over my head. I can feel him resting outside my opening; it is a maddening feeling.
“Co—”
He pushes gently into me, and the slow friction makes my head flop back and my back arch high.
“My sweet Savannah,” his husky voice flows out across my chest, “you’re like a dream I never want to wake up from.”
He shifts so he is in deep, staring down at me. His eyes are incredibly dark and possessive. His lips brush over mine, muttering something I can’t make out.
He leans back to stand, gripping my hips, and makes slow and sweet love to me, and the entire time his eyes stay l
ocked with mine.
Chapter Four
Cole
Cole stands fully dressed in his gear, watching over sixty-three men low crawl through a sea of mud. It’s cold inside the warehouse, but it doesn’t matter. These men need to be able to handle anything thrown at them.
“There’s been talk you’re looking for a recruit.”
“Major Anderson,” Cole nods, “nice to see you again.”
“You too, Colonel.” He crosses his arms as he stands next to Cole. “Any men caught your attention?”
Cole smirks, not wanting it to be known that he is indeed looking. It’s been five days of hell for these men. They’ve gotten maybe twenty-eight hours of sleep total.
“I have three if you’re interested,” Anderson says quietly. Cole doesn’t bite; he continues to watch his own prospect. “Forty-three, eleven, and fifty-nine.”
Cole scans the men’s arms and finds the three Anderson pointed out. Fifty-nine is already on his radar. His name is Captain Terrance Roth, from Texas. He’s thirty and one tough son of a bitch. He’d be perfect to work under Mike, since Cole wants Keith to join Blackstone. Keith has proven time and time again that he should be on Cole’s team, but Cole never moved him because he always liked the way Keith ran the outside unit. But with the way he has taken care of Savannah since she came to the house, Keith is now guaranteed the spot. Cole just hopes he’ll take it.
“On your backs,” Cole orders. “Sit ups—go.”
“Yes, Colonel,” the men shout in unison.
Cole glances at Mark, who is on his phone. He is smiling, then quickly hangs up. After a hundred sit ups, Cole orders the men to stand in rows and pick up a long, thick log.
“You lift the log over your head, to your other shoulder and repeat this till I say otherwise,” Cole instructs. “Do not move your head. Go.”
Cole walks through the rows of men, making sure none of them is slacking on lifting their part of the weight. He stops in front of number thirty-four, who slumps to his knees.