by Kristy Marie
The way she’s looking at me is like she alone has enough willpower to keep my head here. This beautiful woman is offering her silent strength. She’s fighting the demons alongside of me, and it’s with another squeeze of her hand that I know there’s no way I won’t stay in this moment with her.
This woman is my partner.
My stubborn-as-fuck woman.
The girl who has wormed her way into my heart with her sweet tone and sassy mouth.
The woman who loves me despite my sins and without judgement.
This woman. This incredible woman is a motherfucking hero.
And I am so done running from her.
With both hands, I reach up and bring her face down to mine. I kiss her hard, our teeth clashing against one another. I take her hand pressing mine to her chest, and I move it to mine, allowing her to feel my heartbeat instead. She makes a small sound that undoes me right then and there. I grasp her hips and drive into her from below, chasing my everything until it erupts out of me with a roar, doubling me over into her chest.
Our bodies are slick with sweat, our breathing erratic and fast when she manages out, “Happy Birthday, Cade.”
I kiss her hard until she has to pull back for air.
This woman is mine.
I stare, taking in Breck’s disheveled appearance. Her mouth quirks and turns rather smug. “I thought you didn’t do public sex.”
I laugh and kiss the side of her neck, reveling in the smell of apples coming from her. “I thought you got stage fright?”
She pulls back, shrugging, a naughty gleam in her eye. “Maybe I can see the appeal.”
We arrive two-and-a-half hours later than everyone else. One step into the modern lake house, and we’re greeted by all the guys with a standing ovation, led by Theo.
“It’s about fucking time. Pay up, bitches! I won,” he says to the four men behind him. He holds his hand up for a high five and I ignore him and pass by, pulling Breck behind me. I sure hope she isn’t embarrassed because if she decides to stay with me, this is a common occurrence. I’ve been guilty of teasing Theo more than once.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, pulling her down the hall toward the back exit to the boathouse apartment where we’ll be staying. “Unfortunately, it probably won’t be the last time he says something shitty this weekend.”
Breck laughs softly. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s like you have five brothers.”
I pause, my hand on the door to the boathouse. Brothers. “Huh. I guess it kind of is.”
A sincere smile tugs at my lips as I open the door for Breck to step inside. The apartment is small with only one bedroom and one bathroom. It’s pretty much a glamorized hotel room. But at least it’s away from the guys and their incessant teasing.
“This is beautiful,” Breck mumbles, running the pad of her finger along the driftwood furniture Anniston picked out.
“Anniston decorated,” I add. “And Theo and I—well mostly me—redid the floors and painted.”
Breck makes an amused sound at Theo’s lack of help and pokes her head into the bathroom, taking in the upgraded space with fresh paint and tile on the floors. “You guys did a great job. It looks like something out of a magazine.” I never thought about it like that, but yeah, I guess it does. “Do you mind if I freshen up?” She nods toward the bathroom.
“Sure. There are clean towels in the cabinet. Take your time. I’ll go get our bags.”
She stands on her toes, arching her back for a kiss. I indulge her, tasting the salty taste along her top lip. “Mmm … I take it back. Hurry.” I give her a little slap on the ass and she moans, disappearing behind the door while I head outside to get our bags.
Like most women, Breck takes forever in the shower. I’ve already retrieved our bags from the car and have been playing pool with Theo on an app on my phone. I’m winning and I know it’s killing him. He sinks the eight ball and ends the game. I’m typing out a text to rub it in when a buzzing sounds from Breck’s overnight bag.
It’s got to be her phone. Should I answer? What if it’s Sue?
The buzzing starts up again. I’ll just get it and take it to her.
Unzipping her bag and rooting around way too many clothes for a weekend, I finally locate her phone and pull it out, a necklace wound around it.
I bring the phone up to eye level and unwind the necklace. It’s not a necklace.
It’s dog tags.
I’m frozen, my body literally locked in one position when Breck opens the bathroom door, steam billowing out behind her like stage art. “Sorry I took so long—”
She gasps at the sight of me, the air whooshing from her lungs. I’m crouched over her bag, Bennett’s dog tags clutched in my hands.
“Your phone was ringing,” I mutter in a low, robotic tone. She looks confused for a moment like my statement wasn’t what she was expecting. Should I have said his full name? Called out his birthday? His blood type? Did she think I wouldn’t recognize his name? Everything about this kid is ingrained in me.
I was his brother.
His superior.
I held his hand as the life drained from his eyes.
My forearm tenses, thinking about his face, the last time I saw him, bloody and trying to smile through the pain. Through the fear. He was staying strong. For me.
I haul off and punch Breck’s overnight bag with a sound that is almost animalistic. Rage is coursing through my veins, and my heart pounds in my ears, deafening any other sounds. My chest heaves like I’m suffocating but that can’t be true.
Another sound escapes my chest. It sounds like I’ve been possessed by a demon. I raise my head slowly, my lip twitching into a snarl when Breck takes a cautious step toward the front door.
The movement snaps me out of the rage. I spring to my feet like I weigh nothing. Hell, I can’t even feel my legs—the endorphins have taken over. “You’re a liar, Brecklyn Brannon,” I grit out, taking a calculated step toward her.
A cry bubbles out of her throat and I want so bad to go to her but I don’t. She’s a traitor.
“I’m not a liar,” she pleads, her eyes searching my cold, closed off ones. “I was going to tell you. Please let me explain.”
My head goes back and an evil sounding laugh erupts out of me. “So you wanted to confront your brother’s killer. Is that it?”
I don’t give her the chance to explain. Instead, I take another step toward her so we’re toe to toe. “Well, here I am, sweetheart. Let me make it easy for you.”
Tears are streaking down her face at a rapid pace, but she can’t seem to form any words when I produce a knife from my pocket. I press the button and it makes a clicking sound when it extends.
Breck cries out, the words garbled. “Cade,” she pleads with me, her small hands reaching for me.
My face is blank, detached even, when I grab her wrist and place her hand around the handle, pushing the blade against my neck. Her hands tremble beneath mine and it only makes me increase the pressure, driving the knife farther into my neck.
“Please don’t do this,” she begs, trying to break my hold. But I’m stronger, and I increase the pressure until I feel the sting of the blade breaking skin.
“Stop this!” the girl who just made love to me in the car demands.
I laugh at her fake tears. “This is what you came here for, right? Vengeance?”
She’s shaking her head, her free hand pushing against my chest. “No,” she denies vehemently, the tears masking the smoke color I love so much. “I came here for you. To help you.”
A growl erupts out of me, the pressure from our hands becoming increasingly difficult to talk through. “Lies. It’s all lies. Everything about you is a lie,” I yell.
Her knees give way and she collapses, but I’m well past giving a fuck at this point. I make a tsking noise, yanking her back up. “Finish what you started. Tell me how much you hate me. Tell me what a coward I am. Tell me I’m a killer.”
Sobs rack through her entire bo
dy and my chest aches to comfort her, but I don’t because what we had was a lie.
A covert mission.
“No,” she argues, seemingly drawing strength from somewhere. “You will not do this to us.”
Us. There is no us.
“I killed him,” I grit out slowly so she understands. “You want to know how great of a hero I am, Brecklyn?” I spit her name like it’s poison. “While I was fucking the journalist, your brother was gasping for air.”
I let out a bitter laugh that doesn’t sound borderline crazy, and Breck sobs a painful sound. “I fucked her right where you saw me getting blown that day on the computer.” As soon as I saw his name on the dog tags, I remembered her. “I can’t even remember the journalist’s name. But I remember you. Your eyes, as you watched me come apart in her mouth. I wanted you. I wanted to see the blush on your cheeks glisten under my sweat. I wanted to wreck you.” I chuckle dryly, fingering a piece of her hair, the pain in her eyes gripping my heart. “But instead, you wrecked me.”
With the knife still at my throat, I continue on. “He” —I can’t even get the words out—“he called out to me in the rubble. Want to know what his last words were?” Now I’m just being mean. Bleeding my pain onto her innocence. “He said …”
A tear falls from my eye, and even though I’m being a total asshole, Breck still reaches for me with her free hand and says, “No matter what you say, I’m still with you. I’m strong enough for the both of us.”
The guilt eats at me as she stands in front of me, strong and defiant just like her damn brother. Relentless. “He said it was an honor to serve with you, Major.” She only lets one tear fall, and it pisses me off. “An honor?” I shout. “I sent my team on without me. I sent your brother, my brother, to their deaths, Breck. All because I wanted pussy.”
She still doesn’t budge, her chin straight, her face strained. “You would have died, too,” she argues like she isn’t arguing with her brother’s killer.
I yank her closer, and she gasps from the shock. “I would have known to check the cabinets! It should have been me!” I yell to the senseless woman in front of me.
She whimpers but she doesn’t back down. “Don’t do this,” she begs. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you who I was.”
“You should have killed me when you had a chance,” I tell her, seconds from spiraling into a full-blown attack. My hands tremble over hers and I know if I don’t get out here right now, I will end up hurting someone.
“I won’t let you do this,” she challenges, trying to pull my hand from hers but failing.
I yank her closer. “Do it,” I beg. “Put me out of my misery. I killed your brother. I killed the only family you had.”
She cries out, shocking me out of the rage. “Help me!” she yells, her voice echoing in the small space. “Help me!” she calls out again.
I grit my teeth, the rage dissipating at her tears and cries for help. No matter how angry I am, I’m not for scaring women. Even the ones who lied and finally broke through my armor. “No one is coming, B. You had them all convinced that you loved me. They won’t bother us until the morning.” My voice is resigned, quiet even, as I let her hand go, flipping the blade back into the handle of the knife. “I’m sorry,” I tell her for the millionth time that I’ve known her. “You and your brother deserved so much better than me.”
Sighing, I place the dog tags in her hand, closing each of her fingers around them, honorably.
Her tears fall at a steady stream as she secures them in her palm. “Please don’t do this to us. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.”
I swipe at the tears falling down her face, memorializing her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whisper with all the regret in the world.
I deserve this.
Falling in love with Brannon’s sister.
His warrior.
I turn and head out the door, not even turning around when she sobs, “I love you. I loved you before I even saw you. His letters. He spoke so highly of you.”
Does it feel like my chest is on fire? Absolutely, but even the pain doesn’t make me turn around.
I’m letting her go.
I head straight for my truck, my keys a comforting escape in my pocket.
“Cade!”
Anniston’s voice stops me. I turn and see her on the dock, her eyes going between me and Breck standing outside the boathouse. I give them both one final glance and then I turn around, done with everything, and continue up the hill to where my truck is parked.
“Cade!” Anniston’s shout draws a crowd, and before I know it, all five of my brothers are on the front deck with matching concerned expressions. I give them a nod, silently asking for them to watch over the girls, but I keep heading to my truck.
Theo hops the bannister and takes off in a jog, catching up easily. “Where you headed?”
I don’t spare him a glance. “Look after them for me,” I tell him, fishing my keys out of my pocket, my truck just a few steps away.
Theo scoffs. “Fuck no. I’m done taking care of strays. You brought Breck into our lives, she’s your responsibility.”
I ignore the stray comment and unlock the door, Theo appearing in the passenger seat. I sigh. “Go back to the house, Von Bremen. The girls are upset.”
He buckles his seatbelt, clearly not going anywhere. “It looks like the girls are more than upset. I’ll be damned if I stay in that mess. Where we headed? I hope it’s not the streets because I can’t deal without a shower every day.”
I start the engine with one more companion than I want, and look over at the pain in my ass already changing my preset radio stations. “Von Bremen?”
“Hmm?”
“Shut up or I’ll stab you.”
Three hours of driving and I’m still a fucking mess. I can’t tell if I’m sad or pissed off.
Theo’s phone has been chiming nonstop from a steady stream of texts. I don’t have to think hard at who could be texting him. Anniston is freaking out and I feel slightly guilty for leaving the way I did. She doesn’t deserve my wrath.
Breck does.
Lying, scheming Breck.
At first, I couldn’t put it together. The dog tags in her bag … I thought maybe they were the designer necklaces that imitated dog tags, but then I saw the engraving. The name.
Bennett Brannon.
The greenie I took under my wing. The youngster that admired me more than he should have.
His sister.
His sexy fucking sister has been in my bed this entire time. How did I not put two and two together?
Because you blocked out everything that reminded you of your past, asshole.
She said she came for me. To help me. The lie sounded beautiful slipping out of her mouth. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and listen to her teary explanation, but I knew better. I know what I did—who I am.
I’m a killer.
A disgrace to my country—to my men.
She didn’t come for me. She came to stare into the eyes of her brother’s killer.
I just can’t figure out why she stayed so long. Why befriend the other guys? They had no part in what I did all those years ago.
“I have to take a leak.”
Theo’s voice loosens my grip on the steering wheel. He’s been silent until now. And had it not been for his phone chiming every thirty seconds, I would have forgotten he was in the truck.
“Too bad,” I tell him, forcing my eyes on the horizon. The sun is setting and I still have another hour and a half before I reach my destination. I don’t remember making the conscious decision or where I was heading. It was like my truck just knew what I needed to do.
Theo smacks my free arm off the console, takes the bottled water from the cup holder, and chugs the last of it before unzipping his pants.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my foot easing off the gas in case I need to make an emergency stop.
“I’m about to piss in this bottle since you won’
t stop.” Theo shoots me a questionable look, waiting for me to agree. Fucking with Theo usually puts me in a better mood but his stupid look does nothing for me today.
I shrug, glancing at the bottle in his hand, and then look back to the road. “Go ahead. Don’t make a mess.”
It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and he throws the bottle, hitting me on the side of the head. “Pull over, Jameson. You’ve had enough whiny-bitch time. I’m hungry and need food to endure any more of this self-loathing.”
Grunting, I ignore him, keeping my eyes on the road. I’m not self-loathing. Much.
“Are you going to let me look at your neck?” he asks out the blue, shocking me.
“No.”
“So you enjoy looking like a crazy person, then?”
I let out a sigh, knowing he isn’t going to shut up about it. “I’ll clean it up in the bathroom when we stop.”
Theo eyes me with something like concern. “Will you give me the knife?”
I jerk back the tiniest bit. “I’m not suicidal,” I clarify.
His brows arch high up his forehead. “No?” He fingers the dried blood on my neck, and I swat his hand away.
“I was caught up in the moment,” I lie. I really wanted her to hurt me, to punish me for taking away her brother. Her family. Maybe I didn’t want her to kill me, but I wanted the pain I carry on the inside to match the pain on the outside. I wanted to bleed for her.
Theo makes an exasperated sound. “I think you’re full of shit. Hand over the knife, Jameson.”
For the first time in the almost two years I have known Theo, he looks like he might actually beat my ass. He’s serious. No jokes, no ploys, no comments.
“I promise, I’m not suicidal,” I tell him again, my tone becoming softer.
He nods. “I believe you, but just in case, how ‘bout you give it to me anyway?”