Undaunted

by Joss Wood

  Clo looked genuinely confused, and Axl felt a pang of pity for her. “Then what does she want from you?” Clo asked.

  “Love, Mom. She just wants me to love her. The way I always wanted you to.” Axl leaned forward and dropped a good-bye kiss on her cheek.

  “It’s okay, Clo, I don’t need that from you anymore. I just need Reagan.”

  ***

  Reagan had been running, jogging, and walking for nearly sixteen hours straight and, at three miles to go, she was on the point of giving up.

  She was muddy from head to toe, her lungs burned, she was light-headed, every muscle in her body screamed obscenities at her, and she desperately wanted to give up. Instead, she placed one foot in front of the other and pushed on, ignoring the bunches of people on the side of the road leading into Mercy. They were yelling but she couldn’t hear a word they said. She’d started this insanity at two this morning with a number of her Cas colleagues, including her bosses, Jack, some Mercy PD, and a couple of firefighters. Their group couldn’t have been more than twenty in total, and Reagan was pleased to see that she wasn’t the only woman in the group. A long-legged brunette was standing to the side, blowing air in her hands. She’d kept pace with the woman for most of the morning on the long run but she’d lost her on the swim in Mercy’s lake. She had no idea if she was in front of or behind her. She no longer cared.

  She just wanted this torture over. Every step sent pain radiating through her feet, slapped her already pounding head. She didn’t think she could do this, not anymore. Reagan stopped in the middle of the road and stared at the moving ground beneath her feet. Enough. She’d had enough.

  You don’t stop when you’re tired, you stop when you’re done.

  Go away, Axl. If you don’t want to be with me then you’re not allowed to rent space in my head. And I’m tired and sore and miserable.

  “I’m not going away and you need to get your ass in gear and keep walking.”

  Reagan felt like her head weighed a hundred pounds, but she managed to lift and turn it in the direction of his voice. She blinked and saw Axl standing next to her, dressed in a clean pair of track pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Clean hair, clean clothes, clean shoes. The bastard had finished the race, had a shower, and she was still slogging.

  God, she hated him.

  “Go away, I hate you,” she croaked. The only reason her feet moved was to get away from him. Luckily she was still heading in the direction of the finish line.

  “You don’t hate me, you love me,” Axl said, his hands in his pockets, walking next to her. Irritated with him, she summoned whatever strength she had left and shuffled her feet into a mini jog.

  “Yeah, and what did that get me? A boot in my butt and a broken heart!” Reagan shouted.

  “I don’t think you’re going to finish, you might as well just give up. As I thought, you’re not tough enough.”

  “You bastard!” Reagan shouted as he started to walk away from her. “Don’t you walk away from me!”

  Reagan scowled at his departing back and lengthened her stride to keep up with him. “Are you kidding me? You break my heart and ignore me for two weeks and then hijack my race to remind me that I love you! And then you insult me and tell me that I’m not tough! At least I was prepared to reach for more, whether it was MKR or loving you!” Reagan caught up to him and Axl turned around to face her, running backward.

  Before she could blast him again, Axl spoke. “Speaking of your job, Sawyer and I have been talking about that.”

  “Are you kidding me? We’re discussing my job? I’m muddy and sore and in physical and emotional pain and you want to talk about my career?” Reagan shouted, temper rapidly escalating. She pumped her arms and kept her eyes firmly on his face.

  “Well, I want to talk about Caswallawn, about what you are going to do next, specifically what role you are going to take at MKR.”

  “I would rather start this race all over again than work with you at MKR,” Reagan said through gritted teeth, wiping a droplet of sweat from her eyebrow.

  Axl ignored that comment. “We were thinking that it’s time you put that fancy psychology degree to work,” Axl said. He looked over his shoulder and then back at her, still running backward. Reagan had never hated him more.

  “Screw you.” Reagan forced the words through her teeth. God, she didn’t think she could take any more.

  “Honey, I plan on your doing exactly that as soon as I can.”

  “You have more chance of falling pregnant,” Reagan muttered. “I would rather chew my fingers off, stick hot sticks in my eyes, sleep with a troll. And is this fucking race never going to end?”

  Axl’s arm wrapped around her waist and he lifted her off her feet. Reagan shouted and tried to push his arm away. If she stopped now, she’d never start again, and if she didn’t finish this race, she’d never forgive herself. The only way to deal with a broken heart and a broken life was the only way to get through this race, by putting one foot in front of the other and covering the next hour, the next yard.

  She couldn’t stop, she had to keep moving . . .

  “Reagan, baby, it’s done. You’re finished,” Axl said in her ear, his arms banding around her, holding her against his chest. Reagan heard his words but they didn’t make sense. She blinked and looked around, her hands still pushing against Axl’s strong arm. Her eyes first focused on Kai and Sawyer, showered and dressed, who were standing next to Jack, who looked like he’d just taken a stroll in the park. All four of them were watching her, clapping heartily and looking so damn proud. There were other runners who looked a little worse for wear; cops and firefighters lay on the grass or sat on the tarmac, heads drooping. Behind them the good residents of Mercy cheered, and then she saw Pippa and Flick pushing their way through the crowds to get to her.

  Behind her back, Axl was warm and solid and she knew that if he released her she’d collapse in a puddle at his feet. Flick and Pippa skidded to a stop in front of her, hands patting her face, her arms. “Are you okay? Are you dehydrated? Do you need water?”

  Reagan shook her head. “I’m okay.” She looked around. “Was I the last one in?” she asked.

  “Hell, no. You beat half the field,” Axl responded, sounding ridiculously proud. Of her? Why?

  She couldn’t help it, she was a Hudson and they were a competitive bunch. “Did I beat the other girl?”

  “She tore her hammy on the obstacle course, so she pulled out,” Axl replied.

  Oh. Damn. “How far am I behind you?”

  Axl’s laughter rumbled over her. “An hour and a bit. You did pretty well.”

  Reagan craned her head to look at him. “If you say for a girl, I swear I will kick you in the nuts.”

  “Honey, you could try but you’d fall over.”

  Reagan pushed on his arms, suddenly remembering that she loved him but he’d acted like a stupid man-jerk and broke her heart. “Let me go.”

  Axl’s grip on her just tightened. She felt his hot breath on her ear and inhaled his clean, soap-scented skin.

  “Reagan, you’d better get used to the idea that I am never letting you go. Not now, not ever. Here, in my arms, is where you belong. Deal with it.”

  ***

  The next morning Reagan rolled over in bed and gently lifted her arms above her head. Well, they were sore, but not ridiculously so. She pointed her toes and felt a burn, but it was nothing she couldn’t deal with. Well, huh. It seemed like she survived Axl’s Race to Hell. Now, if she could only work out the rest of what happened yesterday. Reagan clutched her pillow and thought back, remembering seeing Axl on the road. He’d appeared at her side at the exact moment she was about to give up and goaded her into a second, or three hundredth, wind. He’d annoyed her enough to keep her walking, and then she’d started jogging again, and he’d occupied her thoughts so fully that she hadn’t realized she’d reach
ed the finish line.

  Manipulative jerk!

  After that, things were a bit fuzzy. She remembered seeing Kai and Sawyer, looking so damn proud of her, feeling like Axl was holding her up, him saying that she belonged in his arms . . . Could that be true? She remembered Axl carrying her to his car, bringing her to Pippa’s house, Pippa and Flick helping her shower. Then nothing.

  Zip. Nada.

  “Reags.”

  Reagan sat up and looked to the corner of the room, to where Axl was sitting in the corner chair, his forearms on his knees, his hands holding a cup. His eyes looked bloodshot and his hair was a tangled mess and stubble covered his lower cheeks. He wore loose pajama pants and a cotton T-shirt.

  But it was the emotion in his eyes that kick-started her paralyzed heart. In those silver depths she saw determination and hope and so much love.

  “You belong to me.”

  Axl stood up and placed the cup on the chest of drawers next to him. He stalked over to her, placed both his hands on either side of her hips, and dropped his head to look into her eyes. “You belong with me.” He repeated his words. “In my bed, in my life, in my heart. Need me to say it again?”

  Reagan shook her head, her fingers coming up to touch his cheek. “Does that mean that you belong to me?”

  “God, I hope so,” Axl muttered. “Since I’m so crazy in love with you I can barely stand it.”

  “I love you too.” Reagan linked her arms around his neck and pulled him down to the bed, sighing when he settled over her. “Yes, this is exactly where you belong.”

  Axl grinned. “Not quite, but we’ll get there. We need to talk first. There are things that need to be said. I don’t want to make love to you and then end up fighting with you.”

  “You’ve just told me you love me,” Reagan pointed out, not at all concerned. “As long as that is the truth, I can cope with anything else.”

  Axl rolled off her and sat up, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to her. He pulled down her tank top with a rueful smile. “Distracting.”

  He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m going to hire Jack to join our rescue team.”

  Well, that wasn’t exactly a surprise. “Okay.” Reagan shrugged, her hand on his knee. “I expected that.”

  “I don’t want you going back into personal protection,” Axl stated, and Reagan cocked her head to look at him. Instead of blasting him, as she would have done months ago, she just quietly asked him his reason for saying that.

  “It’ll be difficult for us to spend time together, and spending time with you is high on my priority list. Besides, as I said, Sawyer and I were hoping that you’d think about taking on another role within Cas.”

  Okay, interesting. “I’m listening.”

  “You have a degree in psychology and you’re still board registered, although you’ve never practiced. Up until now, we’ve outsourced our psychological assessments. We always do psych clearances on trainees, principals, and the PPOs we hire. We’d like you to take on that role.” Axl looked unsure. “That way, we can be together and give this relationship a shot.”

  “Would that mean both of us would live in Mercy?”

  “Yes, here, together. We’d have to buy, or build, a house.” Axl looked uncertain. “What do you say?”

  Reagan gave his proposal a minute’s thought and decided to go with her gut. “Yes to not going back to being a PPO, yes to us being together, let me think about the being your resident psycho.”

  The corners of Axl’s sexy mouth lifted. “You’re that already. We’d want you to be a psychologist.”

  Reagan mock narrowed her eyes at him. “Funny guy. What else? I want to get to the good stuff, the naked good stuff.”

  Axl’s eyes deepened and darkened with desire. “Getting there.” He threaded his fingers through hers and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “I kind of, sort of, cut the ties with my family. I’ve given them the house to live in but I’ve stopped funding them. I presume they’ll respond by cutting off all communication.”

  Reagan squeezed his fingers. “That must have been hard.”

  “Yeah, but I feel a million pounds lighter.” Axl’s eyes met hers and all that emotion was back. “You’re my family, Reagan. You are all that I need. Being here, living with you, working with my friends, is what’s important.”

  Reagan nodded, happy tears in her eyes. “It really is important. You’re my family too, Axl, you and our friends.”

  Reagan felt tears burn her eyes and blinked them away. Her next words were hard to utter, but they needed to be said, Axl needed to hear them. “I do need you, Axe, I need you to know that. I need you to be there when I stumble, I need you to know I’ll catch you when you fall. We’ll argue and fight but I will always have your back, secure in the knowledge that you have mine. You and I, we can be and do anything.”

  Axl leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you more. Can we now get to the fun, naked stuff?” Reagan pleaded.

  Axl mock sighed and reached for the bottom edges of her tank top, slowly pulling it up her torso. “If we must.”

  Reagan reached out and her hand encircled him, hot and hard. “Oh, I really think we must.”

  Ten seconds later Reagan found herself flat on her back, naked, with Axl’s hot mouth heading south. “This is such a tough job but someone has to do it.” He murmured the words against her skin.

  “But I’m the one guy always up for a challenge.”

  Acknowledgments

  My always lovely friends, Tracy, Kerry and Linda. Coffee with you is always better, more fun and cheaper than therapy.

  To Caroline, who keeps my feet on the ground and who always laughs at my jokes. And to the Book Sisters, for laughter, encouragement and for being a soft place for me to fall.

  To my editor, Katherine, and the folks at InterMix: the Men of Mercy books have been the easiest book-birthing experience I’ve had and for that I am so grateful.

  And to Vaughan, who picks up a shattered writer at the end of the day, pours her a glass of wine and pulls her out of her head and back into real life. I couldn’t do any of this without you.

  Joss Wood wrote her first book at the age of eight and has never really stopped. Her passion for putting black letters on a white screen is only matched by her love of books and travelling (especially to the wild places of Southern Africa) and, possibly, by her hatred of ironing and making school lunches. After many years working for a non-profit organization to promote local economic development and lobbying for collective business interests, she now writes full time. She is the author of the Men of Mercy novels, including Undaunted and Inescapable. Happily, and chaotically, surrounded by family, friends and books, she lives in Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa, with her husband, children and their many pets.

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