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Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

Page 110

by Cross, Lindsay


  Celine’s heart throbbed once. “Aaron? Why would he come?”

  “Um…let’s see. Because he looks at you like he could eat you for his last meal.”

  A harsh laugh ripped from her. “Yeah, maybe at first. But not anymore.” Not after he’d basically dumped her at Caroline’s wedding.

  “What do you mean? He couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” Caroline said.

  “Until we hooked up.” The most soul scorching, life changing night of her entire life. The curtains had been drawn, his arms around her, holding her tight. His lips…

  Caroline gasped, “You two hooked up? As in fooling around or all the way? At my wedding party?”

  Her throat closed down on her vocal cords. Could she admit the truth? Why not? She and Caroline might die any second – or at least Celine might – why should she hold back? Because you were stupid enough to fall for a man who only wanted sex.

  Another pang and she closed her eyes. “All the way.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because he dumped me right after that.”

  “Why would he do that?! Did something happen?”

  “Are we playing twenty-one questions?” Celine asked.

  “Got some important party you’re late for?” Caroline countered.

  Celine held silent, holding the hurt close to her chest. She didn’t want to revisit the memory. She could barely face the facts herself, let alone say them out loud.

  She’d given her all to Aaron and he’d turned away.

  His rejection after that earth-shattering night had left a hard eggshell of disappointment and broken dreams around her heart.

  Caroline’s cold, bony hand covered hers. “Just talk to me. Please. I think I might go crazy if you go all silent again.”

  “Fine. We had sex.”

  Caro’s gasp bounced off the walls in their tiny cell. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Was he good?”

  “Good?”

  “You know, did you like it?”

  “Are you kidding?” Celine countered.

  Caroline’s squeezed her hand. “No way. I need details. Give me something good.”

  “You have lost your mind.” He’d been earth shattering. Life altering. Wonderful. Delicious… and deadly to her heart.

  “Not in the least. We both need a distraction and what else are we going to do? Tell me.”

  “Fine. It was great. He was good. And then it was over.” Not on her part though. She’d stupidly thought that taking that next step meant as much to him as it did to her.

  “You sound like your describing Thanksgiving dinner, not steamy sex with a hot soldier.” Caroline’s wistfulness made Celine’s lips tug up at the corners.

  “Geez, that great. No, he was better than deep fried turkey.” Way better. “But…”

  “But what? What’s the problem?”

  “His commander walked in on us.” And ended everything for them. She was really starting to hate the military.

  Celine gasped. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Yep.”

  “Were you – “

  “Naked? Yep.”

  “Oh my God.” Caroline giggled and then a cough took over, wracking her body.

  “That’s what I said.” Celine wrapped an arm around her and held her. What else could she do with no water or no other means to care for her friend? When Caro’s coughs finally subsided, Celine scooted over a bit. “See this is why we can’t talk about it.”

  “I’m not letting you off that easy. What happened next?” Caro’s gravelly voice evidenced her weakness.

  Despite having replayed the scene over and over in her head and telling herself she didn’t care – her heart clenched. “He looked at me like he didn’t know me and walked out.”

  “What?!” Caro coughed again, this time the fit lasted longer than the last.

  “Stop getting worked up, okay?” Celine forced her voice to relax despite her worry. “I can take care of myself, I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Besides, Aaron wasn’t the first man to use and lose her. At some point, she had to accept responsibility that she needed to quit with the whole white night dream and live in reality.

  Celine closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, her mind taunting her with images of Aaron Speirs and the smell of his grandmother Noni's homemade fudge. Her mouth tingled, and if she hadn't been so dehydrated she would've drooled.

  When he’d asked her to be Caroline’s stylist at her wedding and explained that he needed someone he could trust there, she’d read between the lines into spaces that in his mind hadn’t existed.

  She'd spent two weeks getting ready for the wedding with Aaron. He'd been focused on training her on self-defense and she'd been focused on him. Every time he’d touched her, taught her how to handle herself and a gun, she’d been so fixated on him she hadn’t noticed anything else. By the time the actual wedding rolled around, she’d been so hot her panties should have melted.

  Celine lifted her fingers to her lips, remembering the one time she'd taken matters into her own hands.

  “So, he just walked out? Nothing else?”

  Celine drew in a calming breath, trying to force out the painful memory. “It’s no big deal. I think he was embarrassed by his commander catching us in the act.”

  “No big deal? Did he get in trouble for not staying on post? Did he get yelled at by his CO?” Caroline’s quiet voice barely penetrated the hot embarrassment flooding her cheeks.

  “I don’t know. I don’t care. All I know is he got one taste and didn’t want anymore. He didn’t have time to waste on useless relationships.” He’d left Celine with the feeling of a rusty nail fermenting in her chest and a longing so intense she shook from the unquenched need.

  Caroline coughed. “He said that?”

  He’d chosen his Team over her, just like everyone else in her life. “Not so much talking as walking.”

  “Doesn’t make sense for him to just ghost on you like that, not after he specifically requested you for my ceremony,” Caroline said.

  “So, what does make sense then? He got what he wanted out of me,” she snorted derisively, “and he didn’t even have to work that hard to get me. I was hot and waiting.”

  “A man like that, I can’t blame you, but I think it’s gotta be something else. If his commander caught you two together when he was on patrol,” Caroline clucked her tongue, “You know how soldiers are. They’re so orderly, so strict. I’d be willing to bet you money his commander reamed his ass and threatened to have him evicted from the mission if he got off task again.”

  Hope, that pesky little bitch, reared her beautiful head. Something about Aaron Speirs completely flipped her world upside down. The first time he’d walked into her little salon back in Mercy, Mississippi, she’d nearly sliced off the tip of her finger giving him a trim, her hands had shaken so bad. He’d never taken his eyes off her, given her his full and direct gaze in the mirror’s reflection, like he could see how wild her heart hammered in his presence. “You are losing it.”

  “Are you kidding me? The man was practically drooling on your heels. I’ve been around military my whole life. My father is head of Joint Special Operations Command. I know soldiers. I had a huge crush on one of my bodyguards a couple of years ago and tried to kiss him. The guy nearly went into a full-blown panic attack over losing his job.”

  A trickle of laughter bubbled up inside Celine at the image of the petite Caroline tackling a big, burly guard.

  “Exactly. I bet he would have been at your doorstep the minute I married the general…” Caroline’s words trailed off.

  “Your father should never have tried to marry you off to that old man just to boost his own agenda.”

  Caroline let out a sob; broken and painful to hear. “You might be right, but if I hadn’t pulled a runaway bride, we might not be here. Kate might not be dead.”

  Celine squeezed her friend’s hand with all her might. “She’s
not dead.”

  “We haven’t seen her once.”

  “She probably escaped. Of us three, she was the only trained operative. I can just imagine her fighting her way out.” Watching Kate train with Ethan, Aaron’s teammate, the week leading up to Caroline’s wedding had been an absolute treat. Kate Richards, former CIA operative, had taken the SF soldier to his knees.

  “What if…” Caroline’s words trailed off in the darkness.

  “What if she did escape and she’s with the rescue team right now, ready to bust down that door and pull us the hell out of here?”

  Footsteps shuffled outside the door, pacing faster than normal. It was their captor, whom the girls had simply called ‘him.’ He didn’t speak English, but he got his point across clearly - make any movement and get punished.

  They were being held captive buy a ring of men, all of them more powerful than him. He rarely came into their room by himself after the one time. She’d gotten brave and stood up to him.

  Her ribs were still sore from that failed attempt. But that wasn’t what worried her. It was the way he’d leered at them when he shuffled into the room, hands free of water or food. He just stared at the women with a calculating gleam in his gaze.

  “You think that’s them now?” Caroline asked.

  Celine slowly shook her head. The door knob rattled, clicked and then creaked open. A thin slice of light cut into the darkness beside them and Celine, closest to the door, cowered away.

  Their captor’s shadow smothered out the light. Breathing harsh, he pushed the door wider and stepped into the room, staring down at them, his eyes filled with hate and lust.

  And he was alone.

  The men who usually stood in the back ground seemed to be in control of him. He watched them carefully each time. He never touched or jeered when they were there.

  Fear took a stranglehold on her throat, squeezing tighter with every passing second as she sat frozen to the ground at his feet.

  He glanced at a scrap of paper clutched in his right hand and then at the girls, and Celine realized with a start it was a photograph. Then he licked his lips, hidden by a disgusting beard littered with a week’s worth of food scraps, leaving her skin crawling with revulsion. His stench, even worse than her own, overpowered the room.

  He spoke, his accent unintelligible, and gestured to the photo. Neither girl moved, they just sat there in the shadows, clutching each other. What did he want?

  He yelled then, spit flying, their lack of response infuriating him. Before Celine could tense, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and drug her from the room. She screamed, kicking out her feet and clawing at his hand. He’d never done this before.

  Caroline dove for her waist, trying to pull her back, but he was too strong. He ripped them both from their prison cell into the light. When he finally released her hair, throwing her to the ground, he squatted in front of them and held up the picture once more.

  He compared it first to Celine and then Caroline. When his dark gaze landed back on Celine, her breath caught. The man tossed the photo to the side and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. Smashing her against his chest, he slammed his slimy lips to hers. Bile clawed up her throat and she gagged. He shoved her back. She lost her balance, arms flailing, and he grabbed her shirt, easily ripping it in half.

  His eyes landed on her chest, lust exploding on his face. He launched forward and tackled her to the ground. Pain shot up her shoulder, taking the brunt of the fall. The self-defense training Aaron taught her rose up and she tried to kick out a leg to sweep knock him off balance, but her weakness had control of her body. Her attempted kick just bounced off his leg uselessly.

  He got to his knees with a leer and grabbed her now bare breasts, twisting them until she screamed in agony. Pushing past fear into full-blown panic, Celine clawed at his arms and his chest; anything she could reach.

  He backhanded her. Pain burst across her face, leaving her stunned and immobile. This was really happening. He was going to rape her. She felt him shoving at her pants, felt his bony fingers digging into her thighs. As if from a distance, she watched him fumble for the string holding up his pants.

  She had to fight. Had to find herself, get control of her body, but she couldn’t move. She could only watch. He shoved his pants down and grabbed her thighs.

  Caroline screamed and launched herself at the man, throwing him sideways and off of Celine. The burst of movement snapped her back to the present and Celine scrambled backwards on her hands and feet, yanking her pants up with shaking hands.

  Caroline straddled the man and swung, her fist connecting with his nose. Blood spurted and he screamed and grabbed his face. Caroline went on the attack, throwing wild punches, only this time their captor swung back, his fist connecting with Caroline’s face. She flew through the air and landed in a heap next to Celine, unmoving.

  Caro had tried to save her from the savage now stumbling to his feet and clutching at his bloody face.

  Rage erupted, driving her adrenaline to heights enough to overcome her weakness and she launched at her attacker, driving her shoulder into is stomach. He stumbled backwards and she went with him. He tripped and fell back, his head connected with the 0corner of a low wood table. He fell limp and unconscious to the floor.

  Celine pulled back her fist, ready for him to spring. Seconds passed with her arm back and ready before her brain connected the events and she lowered her hand. He was out cold.

  She’d knocked him out. Euphoria, sweet and heady, swept through her. She’d won. But Caroline…Celine scrambled across the room, diving at her friend.

  “Caroline?” She shook her gently. When Caroline didn’t respond, Celine shook her again. This time she groaned.

  Relief left her weak. She reached out and touched Caroline’s now swelling cheek with a trembling hand.

  “Are you okay?”

  “My face hurts,” Caroline said, her eyes closed.

  “It doesn’t look so bad.” It looked terrible, but she wasn’t about to tell her friend that. They had a small window of opportunity to figure a way out of there. Dirty adobe walls surrounded them, too bright sunlight spilled through cracks in shuttered windows. A larger open room lay to their left, faded couches and rugs littered about in a mess. But that wasn’t what held her attention. What got her was the thick wooden door separating them from the outside world in the center of the wall.

  Her heart tripped over itself. “Can you move?”

  “I think so. Where is he?”

  “He’s knocked out. Hit a table. We have to get out of here before he wakes up.” Because she had no doubt that he would kill her. Her captor had been comparing a photo to the girls to see which one was expendable.

  Celine was expendable.

  Celine shot to her feet, looking for anything to tie his hands together. All that greeted her was dirt, a ripped couch and a thick blanket. “Oh, no.”

  “What?” Caroline asked.

  “I don’t see anything we can tie him up with.”

  Caroline groaned as she pushed herself up on her hands. “Forget that. Let’s get out of here,”

  “What if he wakes up?”

  “We need to go. Now.”

  “Celine, your shirt…” Caroline’s voice trailed off. “You need clothes. We both will if we want to blend in.”

  Celine glanced down at the dark purple bruises already forming on her chest. Blood caked at the corner of her mouth. She ached all over.

  Not now. She didn’t have time for this now. “We can search the house. Come on.” Celine helped Caroline to her feet, swaying a bit under a rush of dizziness.

  The man moaned and moved his hand. Without thinking, Celine grabbed a pitcher laying sideways on the floor and brought it down. Hard.

  The man fell back, unmoving.

  “We have to get out of here, now.” She grabbed the ends of her torn shirt and tied them together in a knot below her breasts. There was no time for clothes. If he woke and found them, he’d make her
wish she was dead. Together they limped over to the door. “Just keep your head down and stay close to the wall.”

  “Okay.”

  They plunged through the door, out into the glaring heat and bright sun. Blinded, Celine let go of Caroline and stumbled. She hit something warm and solid and a pair of arms wrapped around her.

  She screamed.

  Panic overtook her and she struggled like a wild animal, but her already depleted strength disappeared rapidly, leaving her panting and hopeless, still locked in the man’s grip.

  “It's okay Celine, I'm here now.”

  Celine glanced up on hearing English, staring in shock into the very cultured and refined face of a suit-wearing man. It wasn’t Aaron.

  He offered her a modest smile and gently steadied her. “My name is Jack Mankel. I've been sent by Senator Tom Cotter to bring you both home.”

  Her white knight had failed to show.

  Chapter 3

  Jack Mankel, a.k.a. Mr. J, fought the urge to pull the bottle of sanitizer from his pocket and wash his hands from being in this filthy hovel in the middle of the desert. The peasant Afghan, Hassan, argued over the price for the girls in such a guttural accent he could barely understand him. But he didn't need to understand much to know the man was demanding an exorbitantly high sum of money or that he had kidnapped two girls instead of just Caroline Cotter as directed.

  Mankel wanted to put a bullet in the ignorant swine's head, he restrained the urge. He hadn't stayed hidden so long by letting his baser instincts rule his actions. Bullets and guns left DNA and evidence, which could possibly lead to his location. Besides, the situation could be easily remedied.

  He forced his lips into a smile. Here, no one knew he was a former CIA operative turned traitor, nor did they care, but the man would care when he found out who Mankel worked for. “Zafar el Abdul ordered the capture of this girl only,” he said as he thrust his finger at a photograph of the girl with the long, blonde hair. “Now you've given me an extra girl, more trouble to deal with, and you've treated this high-value target carelessly.” Mankel relished the fear growing in the man's wide black eyes. “Zafar will not be pleased that you have dishonored him, and now you haggle for more money?”

 

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