Book Read Free

Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

Page 160

by Cross, Lindsay


  He’d taken her like an animal last night, leaving his mark on her, and then again this morning against the cave wall. And yet she didn’t despise him for it—in fact, she seemed to thrill in his touch.

  It was so different to how Barbara had been. His former wife was all gentle lovemaking in the dark with the lights turned out and romance. Mack had always been afraid he’d break her somehow, so he’d handled her with kid gloves. The few women he’d had since then had been much the same.

  But Marley took his rough caresses and moaned out her pleasure, leaving him fumbling around, trying to find solid ground when all he could think about was her wet heat.

  Mack scanned the horizon, shading his eyes with his hand.

  The thing was . . . it wasn’t just sex with Marley, mind-blowing as that was. He felt a deeper level of connection with her. He’d told her things he’d never imagined saying out loud.

  And it was like opening up to her had healed some of the guilt and despair that were so deeply rooted in his soul they had become entrenched in every fiber of his being.

  Until her.

  Marley hadn’t looked at him with disgust or pity—she’d looked at him with understanding and compassion. She’d looked at him in a way that only someone who’d lost a loved one could.

  He’d been shocked to realize she was a widow at such a young age. His initial thought had been a deadbeat dad or a divorce, not death. Part of him was glad that she didn’t have any bitterness from betrayal. She and Mack had both lost honorable and loving spouses years too early. And they both had children, Marley’s young daughter and Mack’s fully grown distant son.

  They had plenty of common ground to build on when they got out of this mess. Where the hell had that thought come from? He didn’t have relationships. He didn’t even want relationships.

  Mack caught a glint of light a couple of miles out on top of the trees. He squinted, wondering if maybe it had been a mirage. But then another glint flashed. And another. This was no figment of his imagination; the pattern was a code his team used. They’d wait until nightfall to make their approach.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Marley that he’d found their target and he quickly descended his rappelling rope, hopping down the side of the cliff and into the mouth of the cave. “I’ve found them.”

  “Mack!”

  Ice-cold rage exploded through his body. There was a man on top of her, his hands pinning her to the ground as he ruthlessly tried to shove her legs apart with his knees. He took one look at Mack and scrambled off Marley, dragging her deeper into the darkness of the cave. She struggled, throwing an elbow and then a mule kick backward at her captor.

  The man screamed in pain and threw her roughly to the ground. Marley grunted, and Mack heard her knees crack against the hard floor as she landed on all fours. Mack’s rifle lay propped against the edge of the cave, out of sight but too far away to do any help.

  It was the soldier who’d tracked them last night.

  He pulled his gun around and took aim at Mack, muttering something incomprehensible, but his intent was clear. He would kill Mack and rape Marley. Then he would kill her, too.

  Mack’s heartbeat slowed and his vision focused. The bastard might be holding a gun on him, but the man was as good as dead. He just didn’t know it yet. Mack spared Marley a brief glance. She gave the slightest nod in understanding and a split second later she swept out her leg, knocking the guerrilla off balance. He fired off a round reflexively, but the bullet pinged uselessly into the cave wall as Mack charged. He shoved his shoulder into the man’s chest and took him down hard, intending to do as much damage as possible.

  The soldier was stronger than expected. He recovered fast and landed a punch on Mack’s jaw. Mack returned the favor three times over, getting in successive punches and an elbow jab before he wrapped his hands around the soldier’s throat. A red haze filled his vision as the memory of Marley pinned beneath the soldier filled his mind.

  The soldier gurgled and pounded against Mack’s forearms, trying to break his hold in desperation. Mack just squeezed tighter. His muscles were fueled by fury and the need to kill anyone who had tried to harm his woman.

  A few seconds later, the soldier started clawing in a last-ditch attempt to draw Mack’s hands away from his neck. Then he went limp. Mack held on another second to make sure, but the would-be rapist was dead. Fucking bastard. He wanted to revive him and kill him again for daring to hurt Marley.

  Marley—he searched her out. She was backed against the far wall, arms across her chest, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. Mack looked down at his hands, still hovering near the criminal’s throat, and realized what she’d seen. He’d snapped. He’d lost control.

  Again.

  Shit. He couldn’t stand for her to think of him as an animal. He approached her with caution, carefully watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest and her dilated pupils, fixated on the dead man a few feet behind him.

  “Marley, look at me.”

  Her wide-eyed gaze lifted to his, the shock and fear in them stabbing his chest. He wanted her happiness, her lighthearted laughter and bold touch back. Had he missed something? Had that soldier already done something to violate her?

  Her hair was knotted and messy, her throat and the side of her face were red. A small trickle of blood had dried at the corner of her mouth. Her shirt was torn at the top, hanging open down the center nearly to her navel. The red haze returned, a rage beyond anything he had ever felt before took hold of him. He hadn’t even been this furious when Mankel had tried to take out his team. They were warriors, trained and armed men who could fight their own battles. Marley had been trained, but she was tiny and fragile and breakable.

  Staying in a crouch, Mack eased a little closer. Her breathing hitched and she strangled out his name, “Mack.” And then she launched herself into his arms, wrapping herself around him and sobbing.

  Mack buried his face in her hair, reveling in the feel of her warm body against his because it was another reminder that she was still alive. He held her like that, kneeling in the cave with the dead body behind him, until her sobs subsided. He made himself a silent promise that he would get her out of this jungle alive and return her to her daughter even if he had to die doing it.

  “Where are you hurt?”

  Marley sniffled and leaned back. Mack held on to her, keeping her close for his own sanity.

  “Not hurt really. I don’t know why I did that. Sorry.” She wiped her face, trying to dry the wet tears from her cheeks, smearing the dirt on her face and drawing his attention to her busted lip. Mack had to clamp his jaw against a rush of icy rage.

  “Don’t you dare apologize. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “See what?”

  “See me kill him.”

  Marley’s head jerked up and fire flashed in her eyes. “Don’t be. He needed to die.”

  Marley gathered her shirt together in a failed attempt to cover herself. At least she no longer seemed frightened; he could deal with her anger, not her fear.

  “Let me help. The shirt won’t stay together like that.” Mack pulled out his knife, waited until Marley’s hands fell away, and then finished cutting open the fabric of her shirt. Once he’d done that, he quickly tied together the ends in a large knot between her breasts, covering them up but leaving her stomach revealed. “That will work for now. You can put your flight suit back on to cover up your exposed skin and protect you from the elements.”

  Mack got to his feet and—without asking—cupped her elbows to help her stand, holding on to her until she was stable.

  She pulled free from his grasp. “I can stand on my own, thank you.”

  He sighed. Her prickly heat had returned. “It’s okay, Marley. You were attacked, it’s normal to be a little off-balance.”

  Her chin jutted up to show him the simmering fire flickering across her face. “I’m fine.”

  She contradicted that show of proud anger by glancing uncertainly at the dead ma
n on the floor. In a short time, Marley had come to realize she valued self-sufficiency and strength and that soldier had nearly taken that away from her. If she needed to take a few jabs at Mack to recover, he didn’t mind.

  “Okay, then get dressed. I spied my men about three klicks out. Let’s get the hell out of this jungle.”

  Chapter 17

  Marley pulled her tattered confidence up over her shoulders with her flight suit and zipped it up tight, praying that she was strong enough to hold it together until they got out of this godforsaken jungle. The lush green trees she’d considered breathtaking only an hour before now seemed to reach out to her with deadly intent. Every rustling, every howl or scratch in the woods set her teeth on edge. She’d been to some hellish places before now, but the freaking Congo beat them all.

  The attack had been bad—worse than bad—but it stung even more that she’d broken down in front of Mack and sobbed in his arms like a weakling.

  All her years in the Girl Scouts and training for the Air Force had bolstered her strength and her self-confidence and made her think she was a strong, capable woman. Hell, she flew C-130s in and out of combat operations. She had raised her daughter as a single mother after her husband was killed. She had faced down scores of men who’d looked down on her and her profession simply because she did not have an appendage hanging between her legs.

  But so many horrors stacked on top of one another within a short span of twenty-four hours was enough to make a god crack. She knew that logically. Logic didn’t have shit on her emotions though, which were currently wreaking havoc on her.

  Mack had tried to help her descend from their cave using the thorny vines, but she’d refused his hand. She couldn’t even look him in the eye.

  The sensual lovemaking she and Mack had shared was in such contrast to the violent attack on her body that she couldn’t process the information.

  They reached the solid ground at the edge of the forest, and Mack paused to gather his bearings before they entered the deadly maze in search of his team.

  He’d looked at her with such compassion, held her so gently. A man like Mack Grey would take care of his woman—Marley had no doubt of that. And God, she wanted him to take care of her right now. If not for her stupid stubborn pride and the stiffening of her spine whenever he tried to help her, she might cave and follow him around like a whipped puppy.

  But she had more respect for herself than that, and if Mack wanted anything to do with her, especially after this jungle, he needed to realize she could stand on her own. Even if she was indebted to him for a lifetime for saving her from that beast.

  “We’ll head this way—” Mack indicated the direction with his hand, “—I think we can make it there before nightfall as long as we don’t run into any more soldiers.”

  Marley inwardly winced. She hoped she never saw another guerrilla again. “Can I have your knife? I never got mine back after I dropped it from the tree.”

  Mack leaned his rifle over his shoulder and pulled the sharp KA-BAR from his pocket without hesitation. “Stay close and keep your voice down,” he said as he handed it over.

  Did he know that being weaponless made her feel afraid? Her strength was no match against a man, but she usually made up for that difference in speed and weapon skills. If she’d had anything on her person when that soldier had snuck up on her in the cave, she would’ve handled him easily on her own. But he’d caught her with a surprise backhand, the force of his blow enough for her to momentarily lose consciousness. She touched her cheek and rubbed the swelling. She could only imagine what it must look like. Especially from the way Mack’s gaze darkened and narrowed. “I’ll protect you, Marley. I’ll die before I let anyone else harm you. You have my word.”

  The urge to fling herself into his arms nearly overpowered her. It would be so easy to give in and give up. Marley let her hand fall to her side and flicked open the blade on the knife. “Let’s go.”

  She didn’t want to talk about it anymore—thinking about it made her want to cry, talking about it would ensure she did. Mack stared at her a moment longer.

  “Please drop it.”

  “Don’t get out of my sight.” Mack turned and entered the forest, trusting Marley to follow him. Feeling incrementally better with the knife, Marley tucked in close to his heels, not dumb enough to take on this place by herself. She couldn’t help but notice Mack’s lethal grace.

  He moved like a Bengal tiger constantly looking for prey. Only a man with absolute certainty of his dominance and power could move that way. She’d seen him in action, more than once now, and his strength and cunning were awe-worthy.

  Her father, who’d always valued ability over politicking and ass kissing, would admire Mack. Colonel Mitchell treated everyone the same, from those who outranked him to the lowest soldiers on the totem pole. If they screwed up, her father would let them know it without couching his words to spare their feelings. And equally as important, he praised those who did well and worked hard to excel.

  Mack was that kind of leader, too. His men looked at him with unquestioning trust and respect in their eyes. If they trusted him with their lives, Marley could trust him with hers. He’d see her out of the jungle if it was at all humanly possible and return her to her family and her daughter.

  More than likely he’d deposit her on her doorstep and walk away, disappearing like a ghost in the wind as he said he’d done with Barbara. For some reason, the thought made her feel hollow inside.

  She tried desperately to think of John, but his face was a vague blur in her mind. It had been so long. She was tired of being alone. Not that she was truly alone—she had Maddie and her parents and a job she loved—but Mack made her realize how much she’d cut herself off from the world beyond her inner circle.

  He had made her remember how good it felt to have a man’s hands caress her body. To share a connection so intimate she couldn’t describe it in words.

  And now that she’d felt it, touched him, and took him inside her, she knew she couldn’t go back to the way things had been before.

  Mack lifted his arm and rubbed a thick hand over the back of his neck. His biceps flexed and shoulders rippled. She became more aware of the tenderness between her thighs. Her skin seemed hypersensitive. Just seeing his fingers made her remember how they’d felt inside her.

  Mack had awakened a dormant part of her that she hadn’t even realized she’d shut down. There was no way in hell she had a hope of flipping the switch back off.

  “You okay? Need to take a break?” Mack paused as he glanced over his shoulder.

  Marley stiffened and stopped in her tracks. They’d only been walking for a couple of hours. “I’m good.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve been injured and—”

  “It’s just a few scratches and bruises. I can go as long as you can.”

  The pity that had been there moments ago melted. Mack straightened his shoulders, adjusting his rifle over his shoulder. “You can quit with the gruff act.”

  “Act? I’m not acting. I don’t need you to baby me or handle me like a glass doll that’s about to break every time you look at it.” Marley fisted her hands and planted them on her hips. Did he not understand that she needed to prove to herself, as much to him, that she could get herself out of this mess?

  “Dammit, Marley, why can’t you just bend a little? Of course I don’t think you’re going to break. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” Mack closed the distance between them, his voice silent but harsh. “You’ve been through a lot, whether you want to admit it or not. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink. You’ve been through plenty of trauma. Trained operatives can barely handle shit that heavy, so don’t tell me you’re not feeling the pressure.”

  “Of course I’m feeling the pressure, but I’m not going to buckle under it.”

  “I never thought you would. You’d probably walk into a fire just to prove that you could.” Mack softened his harsh words by running his knuckles across
her collarbone. “But even my men know when they need a break. I can’t carry you out of this jungle, not if I’m also protecting you from attack. I haven’t been with you long enough to know how far you can push yourself before your body gives out. I’ll bet you’ve never tested it this way before.” He held her gaze. “Marley, that’s something you can’t control no matter how strong-willed you are.”

  The logic behind his words robbed her of her bravado and Marley toed the wet dirt beneath her boots, suddenly feeling a tiny bit sheepish. “I’ll let you know if I need a break.”

  Mack slipped a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. “I don’t think you’re weak, but I do think you’re breakable. Don’t be mad at me for wanting to protect you. That’s who I am and who I always will be.”

  He was trying to tell her something with those words, maybe a hint at a possible future together? He’d opened up to her so much about his wife and his son and now this? Marley felt her shell of frustration crack and his open sincerity filtered in, filling her with warmth. “And don’t be mad at me for fighting to do it on my own,” she said. “It’s all I’ve known for years. I don’t know how not to.”

  Mack’s fingers drifted over her lips, the featherlight caress sending chills down her neck. “When we get out of this jungle, I’m going to show you how it feels to be taken care of, Marley Mitchell.”

  Mack’s lips closed over hers in a solid yet gentle kiss that robbed Marley of her ability to do anything but feel. When the kiss was over, he stepped back, but Marley spanned the small distance between them and placed a hand on his chest. “I’d like that.”

  Chapter 18

  Marley was staring up at him with such open trust, Mack would rather stab himself in the chest than let her down. What would a future between them look like?

 

‹ Prev