The Heart's Shrapnel

by S. J. Lynn

  Climbing the ladder and into the desert air, I see a whole fleet of army vehicles on their way to pick up the women. I’m not worried about Dylan. Unlike my brother, he’ll get immediate help.

  “Where are you going?” Ryan asks as I walk to my truck.

  “To get my girl.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jane

  With what little help we had, we all pulled our weight and managed to get through the war zone. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever had to deal with in my life. But, this is what I love to do, and this is what I will continue to do.

  “Aren’t you still the prettiest thing on this planet,” a voice says from behind me.

  Cody?

  Cody stands behind me, a boyish grin on his face. I never thought I’d get a chance to see him again.

  “Cody? Cody Shotwell?” I ask.

  He smirks. “That I was. I see you do remember me.”

  “How could I forget? It hasn’t been that long.” I wrap him in a big hug. Letting go, I say “I didn’t even know you were here. They sent you after you’d been shot?”

  “Nothing more than a lady pheromone, Jane. Keeps women coming from miles around when they see a scar on a man,” he winks. “The army has no qualms about that.”

  “Guess not. So were you caught in the bombing?”

  He takes his hat off to scratch his head before placing it back on. “Yeah. Didn’t get nothing from it, though. Just came to check in on some of my friends and heard you were here. Just wanted to say, hey.”

  I smile politely. “You’re so sweet. Thank you. It means a lot since I’m kind of by myself here and don’t know a whole lot of people.”

  “How long are you here?”

  “Day after tomorrow, but that might not be the case now.”

  He looks around at the occupied beds. “I see that. Looks like you all got this covered though.”

  “Mostly. Choppers have been loading and unloading like crazy trying to get the critical patients to an actual hospital; one that is more equipped with the proper medicine and more available staff. But, we’re handling it.”

  “So, where’s Cyclops?” He asks, abruptly changing the subject.

  I quirk a brow. “Who?”

  “You know . . . the dude that was trying to put a big hole through me with just his eyes. I practically got a tan from it.”

  I laugh. “Wes . . . I mean, Phillip! Yeah, I don’t know. I’m assuming he’s probably handling things on base; making sure everyone is safe and secure.”

  He’s probably up to no good. I’d be worried, but I know he has to do what he has to do about his brother’s death. The less I know, the better.

  “Yeah, probably. The bombing has stopped.”

  “That’s good news at least.”

  “Yes, it is. Well, anyway, he seems like a great guy. It was nice seeing you, Jane.” He leans in and gives me another hug. “I better let you be and get back to saving the world. Keep in touch?” He hands me a note with his contact information. I put it in my pocket.

  “Definitely. Stay out of trouble,” I say as he turns to leave.

  “Not a chance!” he shouts over his shoulder.

  Once Cody is out of sight, my mind goes to my plans for the rest of the day. Do I pack? Do I stay longer? There’s no telling at this point.

  “Jane, can you run to the back and get me some more gauze,” one of my nurses yells.

  “Sure thing.”

  I head to the back and shuffle through a big mess. Nothing is in order anymore with the rampant chaos over the last couple days. There’s been no time to organize.

  Wes made sure to put the bed back out front. There’s nothing to suggest I was even back here with the baby.

  “Jane,” a repulsive, gritty voice says from behind me. My breath catches in my throat. What is he doing here?

  “What do you want? I’m busy.”

  He laughs. “What do I want? Well, I want to get back at that lover of yours for what he did to me. I’ll need you for that.”

  ***

  Wes

  My damn truck won’t move fast enough. I shouldn’t have left her. But, what could I have done? She was needed, and I couldn’t deny her that.

  I finally make it to the entrance. The familiar guards are standing at either side of the gate. God, they annoy me.

  “Can I help you?” one asks.

  I already have my badge in hand like last time.

  The soldier looks as if he remembers me because his brows shoot up.

  “This is an emergency. I need to get in.” It’s not an emergency, aside from the fact that I want to take her away from all of this.

  He quickly scans my badge and yells for me to be let in. With the recent bombing, I’m sure he expects it’s something serious. He just doesn’t know it’s about a woman.

  They let me through, and I don’t even shut the door or turn off the engine when I park in front of her tent. Running inside, I quickly scan the room.

  Why am I not seeing her?

  “Are you looking for Jane?” It’s the same nurse who talked to me about Jane’s condition before.

  “Yes. Where is she?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “She’s gone? What do you mean she is gone? Where the hell is she?” I grab her shoulders.

  The plump woman lets out a gasp. “It’s that man. He has her.”

  “What man?”

  “Her ex. It’s all my fault,” she cries. “I sent her to look for some supplies, and I saw him go back there. But, he was so quick.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Just maybe ten minutes or so.”

  I finally let go of her.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I turn and race to my vehicle. I don’t have time to think. They couldn’t have gone too far in ten minutes.

  I drive for miles. Calling on my radio, I get someone on the other end and ask if they’ve had reports of a vehicle racing through within the last fifteen minutes. There has been, but where the vehicle was going is uncertain. Thanking them, I set my hand radio down. At least I know I’m going in the right direction.

  Then I see it. Tire tracks. They aren’t that noticeable because of the desert sand, but they head to a typical warehouse type building. Much like the one I had used to beat that Iraqi to death. I pray to God Jane isn’t dealing with any torture like that.

  I grab my gun from its holster, bring it in front of me, and switch off the safety. There are muffled voices coming from inside—one male and one female, to be exact. She’s alive. I take a second to thank whoever is looking out for me before moving in closer.

  It has gotten dark fairly quick. Has been these past few weeks. The building is flooded in darkness except for the ten-foot radius around them. Lanterns from the looks of it. Jane’s in a chair with her limbs strapped and her mouth covered. My hand reflexively closes around the handle of the gun. I want to shoot the prick right on the spot. And I would . . . except for the barrels of unknown content in close range to her.

  And there he is. Kevin. He’s spreading oil all over and around Jane. He’s going to burn her alive.

  ***

  Jane

  The smell is overpowering. My body is weak from the fumes, and I have no idea why Kevin is doing this. I know he keeps saying he wants Phillip to pay, and from the bandage on his nose, I’d say it has something to do with that. Wes never mentioned having a run-in with him. If I had to guess, I would say it was the night he left the motel.

  Kevin starts coughing. “Boy, I sure do hope lover boy comes soon. These fumes are getting to me.

  My hands continue to work themselves out of the rope that’s slowly loosening by the minute. I’ve been working at it for a good twenty minutes. I just need to keep him talking.

  “Kevin, why are you doing this? You don’t have to.”

  He tosses the rag he used to smear oil over my exposed skin and my clothes.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Jane. You see”—he kneels before me a
s he puts his filthy hands on the tops of my knees—“first, you leave our home without telling me where you’re going. Then, I get a call from the army telling me I’m needed over here and that you, my girlfriend, is working in their hospitals. I was shocked. I figured you to be many places, but not in the army. And, if that wasn’t enough, you have the audacity to sleep with another man, a soldier. Not to mention the many times you disrespected me. Oh, how I counted the ways.”

  “I told you many times I wanted out, and we were done. You never wanted to accept it!”

  He grabs my jaw and squeezes. The pressure sends a jolt of pain through my whole body. “How many times do I have to tell you we’re not over until I say we’re over.” He squeezes harder before letting go.

  This is it. I’m going to die at Kevin’s hand.

  I work my hands again while he fiddles around. I’m not even sure what he’s doing. But, as I look closer, I realize he’s assembling a rifle.

  “What do you think? This should finish him off, wouldn’t you say?” He laughs and it’s pure evil.

  My heart pounds and my body dampens with sweat. I’m scared out of my mind of what’s going to happen to Wes. But, he’s stronger than Kevin. He can take him down. I know he can. “I don’t think he—”

  A sound stops me mid-sentence, and we look to see what it is. But then it’s silent again.

  Wes?

  “I do believe we have our first visitor, Jane. What do you say? Should we give him a proper greeting?”

  “Kevin, don’t. Please,” I cry.

  He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth and shakes his head. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with the man. You just met him . . . and we just broke up, remember?”

  “So what if I am? I don’t love you. I never have,” I spit out.

  Kevin flies over to me so fast, I don’t see his hand come up to slap me. He hits me so hard my head whips to the side, and my face contorts with pain.

  “Don’t. Move.” Wes’ voice is low and rough. I turn my head, needing to see him, but I can’t. Kevin is still in front of me. His hands are up in the air.

  “Now. You are going to do exactly as I say and walk away from her,” Wes says.

  Kevin laughs. “What are you going to do? Shoot me? You and I both know that if you do, you risk blowing us all up.”

  “I’m no amateur. Back away . . . now.”

  Kevin walks past the oil spill.

  “That’s enough!” Wes shouts. Kevin obeys, and Wes briefly eyes me up and down. “Are you okay?”

  My eyes tear up. God, he looks good. My hero. I never thought being strapped to a chair, drenched with oil, and fighting for my life I would be thinking about his body—how strong and capable it is. The combat gear he wears only adds to the danger and sexiness.

  “I’m fine. Just be careful,” I beg him.

  While Wes moves up to Kevin, I wiggle my wrists more aggressively trying to work them free. I’m nearly there. If I keep it up, I should be able to squeeze through, and I hope it’s soon because they are being rubbed raw.

  I freeze when I hear shouting. I look over where the guys are. Kevin’s sporting a ridiculous grin as Wes gets in his face. Kevin’s always felt untouchable.

  “I’m giving you one more chance to turn around and leave before I take away that option from you altogether,” Wes says loud enough for me to overhear.

  Kevin mumbles something and Wes responds by raising the gun. Is he letting him go? He can’t trust him, does he? I know Kevin. He never backs down.

  I watch in dismay as Kevin gets further away. My hands work in overdrive. Once he’s out of sight, Wes sprints over to me.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” He goes behind me and starts to untie the rope.

  “Ugh.” Wes says and I hear the wind rush from his lungs. He skids off to the side, sliding through the oil mess.

  A blood-curdling laugh follows. “Phillip, Phillip, Phillip. Rookie mistake. Never assume the innocence of another man. Especially when you’re at his fight.”

  Wes tries to get up, struggling in the slick liquid. He’s covered. “My mistake.”

  Kevin laughs. “And you want this sissy, Jane? Look at him.”

  “Leave him alone!” I shout.

  “No. I’m going to have fun with him . . . like he did with me.”

  It all happens in a flash. Kevin bolts toward where Wes flounders in the oil. He kicks him in the head, his boot making a hard thwacking sound.

  My jaw clenches. I’ve been on the receiving end of that before.

  When he does it again, I give one more hard yank against the rope and my hands spring free. With all I have, I charge Kevin, coming from behind where he’s not expecting me, and I shove him. His legs give out as his feet slip, and he slides across the oil and falls. But, before he does, he reaches back, grabs my arm, and takes me down with him.

  The hard cement floor knocks the air out of my lungs and everything goes dark.

  ***

  Wes

  What that bastard doesn’t understand is I’m expecting this to happen—planning on it happening. I want him gone, and I can’t do so unless he gives me no other choice . . . And he just did.

  When Jane freed herself and came bolting toward him, I thought I was going to die on the spot. She wasn’t part of the plan. She was to stay in her seat, and I would free her and bring her to safety. But she didn’t.

  That son of a bitch took her down with him, the coward. I don’t see her moving. Her beautiful, delicate body is lifeless. Is she breathing? Is she alive?

  My breathing quickens and I clench my fists.

  Green light.

  Rising from the slippery ground, I come to my feet. The flat line of ringing in my ear drowns out all other sounds. I’m like a bull ready to charge. Kevin starts to rise from where he lays. Oh, no. This is the last time you get up.

  I reach for him, grabbing at whatever I can, and I throw him against the wall, knocking him back down. Before he tries to get up, I toss him away from the dangerous zone. The area where Jane lies. What I’m about to do has to be away from all the oil.

  With one hand, I get a firm grip on his collar and drag him over to the far end of the building. This stops today.

  Finding my safety zone, I drop him.

  “Wait! Don’t. I’ll leave. I’ll leave!” he shouts, almost crying.

  I have to laugh. “You’re a coward. Are you really begging me to spare you?”

  “You won’t get away with this. You’ll be rotting in prison for the rest of your life,” he spits out.

  I kick him hard in the face. His eyes struggle to keep open. But, I don’t want him to black out. Not yet.

  “Kevin.” I wait for him to look up. His lids open and close a few times before he finally focuses his dazed eyes on mine. I point my gun. “You lose.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Wes

  It’s over. All of it. Kevin’s death was ruled self-defense. After seeing the area he kept Jane in, the authorities didn’t even blink an eye. Jane doesn’t know what happened. She’s been out of it since. I’ll probably tell her one day, but she’s smart. She’ll figure it out on her own. Then we can talk about it.

  Mayfield. Well, he certainly got what he deserved. Most of the guns were compensated, taken from the secret hiding places the Afghan’s used to store them. Not all were found, but it was a start. It turns out that he had been doing this for a long time. It started out just a few weapons here and there, and more and more as the years went on. So, when he realized something wasn’t right. Someone was onto him—me—and he tried to cut all ties with his buyers. They didn’t like that. Hence, the bombing. Retaliation. The leader and most of the followers were brought into custody. Then it’s off to prison.

  I’m happy all of the women who were sold that day were found. I’d gotten to them just in time, so I’m told.

  Lily is being evaluated. I’ll have to tell Jane about her when she is strong enough to bear it but not today.

  R
yan and Mandy are moving in together. It only has been two days since this all went down, but in this line of business, sometimes two days is all you have.

  Dylan? The CID is receiving a lot of heat over one of their own being a traitor. He’s also in prison. A different one from the general, of course. I made sure he was close to my home in Utah. I want to visit him whenever I get the urge. To be friends? No. I will never forgive him for what he’s done. I want him to suffer. Is that wrong of me? To be honest, I don’t give a shit.

  “Sir, we have arrived at your destination,” the driver says as we pull up to a white farm house that sits on around fifteen acres of land.

  “Thank you.” I look at Jane, who’s still drugged from the meds the doctors put her on. I wanted them to give her as much as was allowed. The bastard fractured a few of her ribs—hairline fractures, but still.

  After I open my door, I straighten my uniform and come around to Jane’s side. Scooping her into my arms, I adjust her, so her head is lying comfortably on my shoulder before I kick the door shut.

  She’s light in my arms as I carry her up the few steps of the wraparound porch. The red door opens and a woman comes out crying, her hands to her mouth. An older man steps from behind the door. Jane’s mom and dad. I knew she’d want to be nowhere else when she was recovering. The doctors want her to rest for at least three weeks. I wanted to take her back to my place, but there’s paperwork I need to file. Yes, that paperwork. I’ll be looking for a new job.

  “Thank you,” her mom cries.

  Her dad walks around. “Yes, thank you. What do we owe you, son?”

  Owe me? “A soft bed for Jane.”

  “Yes, of course. Follow me.” I follow her mother upstairs. Each step leading me farther away from Jane. I have to leave her for a while to get things squared away, but I’ll be back.

  “Right over here,” she gestures to a full-size bed with a white quilt and tons of frilly pillows. The walls are also white with tiny blue flowers. This must have been Jane’s room when she was younger. I see it now as I briefly look around and see pictures of her from years ago. A lot of them are of her hugging a horse or riding one.

  I gently put her down. With my free hand, I scoot the quilt down, shoving all the pillows except one off to the side, and lay her beneath the covers.