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Rogan (Men of Siege Book 1)

Page 13

by Bex Dane

"I dunno. It hurts. My head, my face. Everything hurts."

  "Fuck." He slipped his arms beneath my back and knees and lifted me gently. He carried me to a truck and set me in the passenger seat. He spoke into his phone as he drove out of the lot. "T needs you. My place."

  I closed my eyes as we sped away.

  Chapter 19

  I woke to Dallas kneeling in front of me. He dabbed a cool compress to my temple. "Hey," he said in a comforting bedside voice.

  "Hey."

  As the fog cleared, my eyes focused on three dusty soldiers scowling down at me. Diesel, Blaze, and Rogan stood with their arms crossed and brows furrowed. They wore the same unmarked camo and the boots they'd worn when they rescued me in Kabul and they were covered in the same amount of dust and grime.

  "Rogan." His beard covered his face, but his familiar pink lips showed through. "You're alive? Oh my God!"

  He stared at me and pressed his mouth into a tight line.

  "What's wrong?" They were the ones out fighting a war in the sand, and yet all their concentration drilled into me.

  "You got beat up pretty bad." Dallas pressed something cold to my cheek. "Seeing a woman's face looking like yours is not easy for a man to take."

  My skin throbbed and stung where he'd touched it. I took the compress from him and lowered it to the couch. Why were they all fussing over me like this? "I'll be fine. It's not the first time my fath—" Rogan growled and balled his fists. "Uh, I'll recover. I'm fine." I took a deep breath and looked around the room. Black leather couch, a card table in the nook off the kitchen. Rogan's old apartment? "We can't be in here. Someone else lives in this apartment now."

  "Not anymore," Rogan responded, his voice hoarse.

  "Oh. Where did he go?"

  Takoda sauntered up to the couch and panted her doggie breath on me. I managed to sit up without getting dizzy and pat her head. "Takoda, I was so worried about you. You're back. What happened to your ear?"

  Knocking on the door interrupted us. Rogan pulled his phone out of his pocket, checked it, and showed it to Dallas. "You know him?"

  Dallas squinted and examined the screen. He pinched his nose. "I saw him at Siege earlier."

  Rogan showed me the phone. "You know this guy?"

  The video showed Lachlan Cutlass, still wearing his beard and ball cap, standing outside Rogan's apartment door.

  "That's Lance Croft," I replied.

  "Also known as Lachlan Cutlass," Dallas added.

  "He was at the club?" Rogan asked Dallas.

  "Yeah."

  In one swift motion, Rogan opened the door, lowered his shoulder, and careened into a wide-eyed Lachlan. They collided with a grunt and tussled into the hall, thunking into the wall in the corridor.

  Takoda trailed on Rogan's heels. She barked and snarled, standing alert with her hackles up, her whole body pointed and waiting to pounce.

  Blaze, Diesel, and Dallas watched the brawl, but didn't move to help.

  The crunch of a fist connecting with someone's flesh echoed in the hallway. "Stop! Stop!" My feeble voice didn't carry over the ruckus. I sat up, but the room tilted and I moaned.

  Dallas held me down by my shoulder. "Take it easy, Tessa."

  "Aren't you going to stop them?" Why was no one breaking up the fight?

  "No."

  "You guys! Enough! Please!" I screamed from my spot on the couch.

  Rogan stalked back in and wiped his palms together. Lachlan followed him, breathing heavy and fixing his rumpled clothes. He wiggled his jaw with his hand and winced.

  "Heel." Takoda sat at Rogan's feet, but her eyes dialed in on Lachlan and her ears pointed at him like monoliths.

  Rogan's eyes shot bullets at Lachlan. "You freak. You go to that club and watch her dance in a fucking box hangin' from the ceiling?"

  Lachlan stared at me with concern. His eyes narrowed when he saw my face and the cold compress on the couch. "Oh God, Tessa."

  "You don't stay to walk her to her car?" Rogan stood between me and Lachlan.

  Lachlan flicked his eyes to Rogan and side-stepped him. When he returned his attention to me, the concern was gone. Awareness and anger blanketed his gaze. "Who did this? Your father?"

  "What the hell is your game? Leave her the fuck alone," Rogan said.

  "I'm sorry I wasn't there." Despite Rogan's blazing anger, Lachlan kept his cool demeanor.

  "It's not your fault. I'm fine. Rogan was there."

  Lachlan looked to Rogan and nodded, thanking him. "She needs a doctor."

  "Dallas was a medic. He's seeing to her."

  "We should call the police."

  "We're not calling the cops. I'll take care of Jeb Barebones."

  "Do not fuck up my investigation." Lachlan pointed a finger at Rogan.

  Rogan looked down at Lachlan's finger and clenched his fists like he was trying hard not to break it. "Your investigation is already fucked or you'd have swept that compound by now. Get the hell out!"

  "Rogan, please. He's helping me."

  Rogan looked from me to Lachlan. "Leave now. I need to talk to her."

  "I'll call you tomorrow, Tessa. Rest tonight and then we'll figure out what to do next."

  Rogan growled as he shoved Lachlan out the door.

  ***

  "Take care, Tessa," Blaze called as he left the apartment with Diesel.

  "Bye, guys. I'm so happy you're back."

  "I'm sorry he got to you," Dallas said to me. "It won't happen again."

  "It's not your fault. My father had his mind set on finding me. You couldn't stop him."

  Dallas left me alone with Rogan and Takoda.

  Rogan and Takoda were back.

  My father knew where I worked.

  My head throbbed trying to absorb all the facts on top of the shame from the beating tonight.

  For six months, I'd focused on school and forging a new future. Today two men from the past slammed back into my life and collided in a blast of violence and pain.

  "I thought you were dead."

  "Not dead." He walked toward me with his hands loose by his sides.

  I took a deep breath to calm the butterflies that had taken flight in my chest. "I'm so relieved. I can't believe you're here."

  "I'm here." He kneeled next to the couch. "I should've gotten there sooner. I knew your dad would find you after you texted your sister."

  "You saw my text to Temperance?"

  "I was watching your phone. Got here as soon as I could. It took us six months to find our target and complete this mission. I'm sorry I was too late."

  "You weren't too late. You saved me. Again."

  He shook his head.

  "Forgive me for contacting Temperance. It's created so much trouble."

  "You never need to ask my forgiveness. We'll take care of it."

  "Is that why you came back? To protect me from my father?"

  "Part of it."

  "What's the other part?"

  He wrapped one big, warm hand around my neck and scrunched his fingers. "Missed you."

  I sucked in a breath as the heat of his touch emanated through my body. "You missed me?"

  "Mmm-hmm." His fingers trailed down and stopped on my ruby necklace. "Missed my Sunshine."

  Gah! I missed him too. So much. I thought of him all the time, worrying he'd been killed. Despite the relief and joy I felt at seeing him again, I had to protect myself. He'd hurt me and could do it again without a second thought. I lifted his hand from my necklace and pushed it away. "Please, don't."

  "You're hurt. Let me comfort you."

  "I'm different now."

  "How're you different? You still my brave girl who won't be intimidated?"

  "Yes."

  "Still dance around in sparkly jeans to Taylor Swift?"

  I couldn't help the giggle that escaped. "Yes."

  "Then let me hold you. Just tonight. Tomorrow we'll talk about what else may have changed or not. Maybe tomorrow I'll leave again or you'll send me away. For tonight, be safe
in my arms."

  My body screamed yes as he leaned in to put his hand behind my head. How could I refuse him after he'd come straight from combat to rescue me? I rested my forehead on his hard chest, letting the scent of dust and man drift into my nose. I needed to feel his strength to prove he was alive. I needed his reassuring embrace after my dad's attack. I'd probably regret it in the morning, but he was right. For tonight, we should hold on to each other.

  He took off his boots and lined them up under the bench by the door. His eyes were glued to me as he removed his camo jacket. He'd done the same undressing routine the first night I stayed here. Back then, I wondered what the rest of his tattoo looked like. Now I know it's an E. I still don't know what it represents, and I don't know much more about the man who wears it.

  He looked down at himself and quirked his lips. "I'll shower in a bit. Can you handle a little stank?"

  I laughed. "Sure."

  He lifted me gently and reclined on his back on the couch, situating me to his side, so my forehead rested on his chest and my leg draped over his knee. His hand swept my hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

  "You good?"

  "Mmm-hmm." I was good. Rogan's warmth still soothed me like it did before he left. The shock of my father's attack and Rogan's return faded and started to become a memory. All that mattered was now. His mammoth chest surrounded me like a brick wall even Jebediah Barebones couldn't penetrate.

  My hand on his hard chest found his dog tags through his shirt. I fingered the beaded string and flat metal plates. If he'd been killed, these dog tags would've come home without his warm body and beating heart.

  I wasn't sure how I felt about God anymore, but I needed to thank someone for this.

  Thank you, Lord, for bringing him home alive. No matter our future. Thank you for watching over him.

  "I'm gonna wake you up in three hours to check you for a concussion."

  "You don't need to do that. I'm fine."

  "Doing it anyway. You wake up, take some pain meds, go back to sleep."

  "Yes, sir."

  His chest rumbled with his chuckle.

  Chapter 20

  In the early morning light, I reached for my missing heater of a pillow and winced at the bruises on my face and chest. I went in search of Rogan and found him staring out the kitchen window. I approached him from behind and draped my arms around his waist. He placed one hand over mine.

  "What do you see out this window?"

  He lowered his head and shook it.

  "Do you have PTSD?"

  He looked down at me over his shoulder with an eyebrow arched into the shape of a serpent. "I don't have PTSD. The Army checks my mental stability regularly. They wouldn't trust me with million-dollar equipment if I wasn't solid."

  I dropped my arms and took a step away from the menace that hit me from his back.

  "Why do you tell people you're retired military if it's clearly a huge part of your life?"

  He spun and nailed me with hatred spewing from his eyes. "Why do you continue to push and test and ask questions when I've made it clear I can't tell you?"

  "Can't or won’t?"

  "Both."

  "Maybe we could get you some help. If you lost friends over there—"

  He clasped his head in his hands and grimaced. "Shut up!"

  "But..."

  He stalked toward me, anger whipping off him like fire. "You have no idea what you're talking about. If I answered your questions, a fucking flood would open up and drown you in water so deep you couldn't breathe. I'll never put a weight like that on you. I tried so goddamn hard not to unload that on you, but you kept pushing and pushing and driving me fucking insane."

  I turned and paced away from him. The familiar bitterness of rejection sliced through me. Nothing had changed. Rogan thought I wasn't strong enough to handle him. He'd allow himself to hold me, protect me, but he would never open a door for me and let me carry weight for him. I could never love a man with an impenetrable barrier between us. I'd only end up hurt when he leaves again.

  "Did you fuck the spook?" He spoke low and quiet, his voice rough like sandpaper.

  "What?" I looked back at him over my shoulder.

  His nostrils flared, like a bull about to charge at a matador. "Cutlass. Did you fuck him?"

  I propped my arms on my hips and matched his demanding tone. "None of your business." His intimidation techniques might work on prisoners, but not on me.

  "Did you fuck him?" He paused between each word, clearly struggling to control his fury.

  "No. Okay? No. I haven't been with anybody. But even if I had, that's a totally rude question, which you have no right to ask me. Especially when I just asked you a much less obnoxious question and you went ballistic!" I grabbed my backpack and my keys, which I thought I'd dropped in the parking lot. Did Rogan bring these here? I don't care. I can't care. "Thank you for rescuing me last night. I'm thrilled you're alive. No, I really am. Because you're too awesome to not be on this earth." I slung my bag over my shoulder and gripped my keys in my clenched fist. "But you're a black chasm to me. The absence of color. The opposite of me. Life's too short to live without color. I've been there and it sucks."

  As I reached for the doorknob, his quiet voice pierced the void. "Stop. Stop right there." He held out one hand but let it fall.

  "What? I'm right, aren't I? You're a black void to me."

  He shook his head and looked to the floor.

  Gah! What does that mean?

  "I'm done. Goodbye, Rogan. Don't contact me. Don't talk to me. Please. Just leave me alone."

  I slammed the door shut and retreated to Blaze's apartment, leaving Rogan and all the bullcrap that came with him behind.

  ***

  "I don't want you seeing Cutlass anymore." Rogan said his first words to me since I'd asked him to leave me alone a week ago.

  I shivered at the bitter cold as he walked by my side in the Siege parking lot after my shift.

  "You told me to shut up. I'm doing that."

  I tucked my coat tighter around me and wiped frigid snowflakes from my face. Idaho was cold, but Boston's winters delivered their own unique bite.

  "I don't want you to go back to dancing after your injuries heal."

  He must know Dallas took me off the box girl schedule while I recovered from the beating. I tried to tell him I was fine and I could cover the fading bruises with makeup, but he wouldn't listen.

  "You don't need to walk me to my truck anymore. Dallas added lights and cameras all over the employee lot now."

  "Don't care."

  We stopped at the door to my truck. "You know, you're a piece of work. You come walk me to my truck the last four nights saying nothing to me. When you finally decide to talk on the fifth night, you try to tell me who to see and what to do?" I shook my head. "No way."

  "Tess— "

  "No! I asked you to leave me alone. You've been gone six months and now… now you barge into my life and start ordering me around? I'm not looking for someone to take my idiot father's place."

  He flinched. "Let me— "

  "I'm happy now. I appreciate how you rescued me and helped me start a new life. I'll always be grateful for that. I'm finding my way now. But you"—I poked his chest and it bent my finger back—"mess with my head. Just go. Run away and kill people somewhere, but keep your black cloud away from my happy place."

  He smirked at the icy pavement as I got in my truck and drove out of the lot onto the cleared street. His flurried reflection in my rearview mirror watched my truck till I turned the corner, just like he had four nights in a row.

  ***

  I slammed the door to Blaze's apartment and tossed my coat and backpack on the end table. The nerve of Rogan! Following me around and then telling me what to do like he cared about me. He dangles his tantalizing carrot and snatches it away over and over, breaking my little bunny heart each time.

  My phone buzzed in my purse. Probably another text from Lachlan asking
me how I'm doing. I needed to respond soon or he'd show up here.

  Oh—a text from Rogan.

  R: Balcony

  An ice block dropped in my chest as I walked to the balcony doors. Arctic air snapped my hair against my cheeks and needle-like flakes blew uninvited into the room. Wow, a foot of snow had collected on the railing out here while I'd been at work. And Lord help me, in the courtyard below, Rogan stood tall and strong in the flurry. He held a guitar poised in front of him. Takoda waited at attention by his side, her tail making little snow angels.

  In the darkness, the edge of the cone of light from the lamppost illuminated his outline. His boots sunk deep into the drift. Icy slush collected on the gunmetal gray beanie on his head.

  He strummed his guitar and began to sing. "Hey, darlin', will you dance with me?"

  I leaned back with my arms crossed over my chest and laughed at Rogan singing his heart out and playing guitar out in the middle of a blizzard.

  "I'll play your favorite song."

  "What are you doing? It's freezing!"

  "Then I'll hold you close, all night long."

  Oh my God! Rogan's feathery voice drilled a pick into the ice around my chilled heart.

  "Hey, darlin', can I take you out?"

  "Come up here!"

  He nodded but sang more silky strains as he walked inside. Takoda bolted ahead of him. I ran to my front door and threw it open. His strumming got louder as he climbed the stairs. Takoda's eager paws thumped up the steps and tromped to me. She didn't touch me with her wet paws—she knew better than that—but she jumped up on her hind legs. Ice-cold drops fell from behind her ears as I scrubbed her with both hands. "Silly girl."

  Rogan reached the corridor, still crooning in his sultry voice. He looked down at his guitar, and his timbre quieted.

  "Hey, darlin', let me make you mine.

  Say you'll walk with me a while

  Because I see our future in your smile

  Hey, darlin', let me make you mine."

  When he raised his head, his eyes glinted through crystalline snowflakes on his lashes, and his pink lips bent in an adorable crooked line.

  "Listen..." I tried to sound stern, but his sneaky move was totally working on me. I couldn't be mean to him now after he'd put himself out there like this. I stared at him in shock, a huge smile on my face.

 

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