Scorch: A Soldiers of Fortune Romance (Military Bad Boy Romance)

by Irons, Aubrey

Something slams against the door, making me jump. The crash comes again; the sound of someone trying to break down the door. I shiver as it hits again, and again, and then a fifth time, before the door suddenly gives way and comes splintering into the room along with the figure crashing through it.

  You've got to be kidding me.

  Javier stands from the ground, shaking his head and wincing as he looks up suddenly and meets my wide eyes with his own fiery ones; "Let's go."

  I stare at him in absolute shock; "Excuse me?"

  "I said let's go, princess, now!" He runs to the door and looks quickly around the hallway before he ducks back inside and marches right over to the bed where I still haven't moved.

  "We need to go righ-"

  "What the fuck are you-“ I start to bat his hands away, shoving away from him. But suddenly he grabs me, and I gasp as he yanks me into his arms and kisses me. He kisses me with a passion I've never felt before, with a hunger and a fervor that I could've never imagined. For a moment, I want to believe it; I want to let myself slip back into this and drown delightfully in the fairytale fantasy.

  It's just for a moment though.

  I shove myself back from him, and before I can stop myself, my hand is slapping him hard across the mouth; "Fuck you!"

  "Chelsea!"

  "You- You- you set me up you fucking assh-"

  He grabs me and shoves me agains the wall this time as his lips crash into mine again, and this time, I only whimper as I grab his face and kiss him back with every single ounce of my being.

  "Koufax," he growls, breaking away from my lips for a moment; "Koufax sold you out. He's here, with Blackwater."

  "What?" I stare at the man in front of me; the man that makes me feel things I've never felt, the man that fills me with contradictions and questions I've never had to face or answer.

  But he's also the man I never want to stop kissing me; not ever.

  "They think I'm back with them, Chelsea; it's why I couldn't say a damn thing earlier." He kisses me again, and I moan into his mouth as his powerful arms draw me tight against him; “Believe me, I wanted to kill them all right there with my bare fucking hands.” He growls, nipping at my lips.

  So, what happens now?" I look around the room at the smashed-in door and the guard slumped on the ground; "What are you going to do?"

  Javier grins; "I'm a criminal, remember? I’m a thief, and I’m going to do what I do best.” He winks at me; “Take something I want from people who I don't think should have her." He kisses me once more, fiercely, his arms holding me tightly as he sears his lips across my own.

  “C’mon spy-girl, we're getting the fuck out of here.”

  The plan is insane. I know that beyond a shred of doubt, but it's not going to stop me from following through.

  It's also not going to make me tell Chelsea what's really going on here, because if I did, she'd never go through with it.

  But, as someone much wiser than me once said, insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. And you know what? I'm really fucking tired of doing the same thing every time. I'm tired of being the bad guy, I'm tired of forcing myself to be the worst version of myself just to get myself through another day of hating who I am.

  And so this time, I'm changing it up. This time, I choose to be the better version of me. It's not like it matters anymore anyways; none of it matters except making this right.

  "Where are we going?" Chelsea yells next to me. We're in one of the Blackriver jeeps, the top down and the wind and the road roaring past us as I hurl us towards the airfield as fast as I can. In any other circumstances in the world, a drive through the night with the top down next to this girl would be fucking perfect. I've never actually had a night like that - one of those movie-scene memories with the perfect girl and the perfect night and all that shit. I've actually never had "perfect" at all.

  That is, until I met Chelsea Archer.

  "I'm making sure y-" I shake my head; not yet; “I’m making sure we get home! We're leaving this fucking country and these Blackwater assholes in the dust."

  It's a lie, but only half of one.

  "We're going back to the States?"

  I stare straight ahead, because I know if I look into those big blue eyes of hers, I'm lost; "Yeah, princess; the States."

  I'm thinking back on the first of three phone calls I made from the Blackriver outpost right before I knocked out the guard and ripped her the hell out of there. It's amazing how much change you can make happen with a single phone call sometimes; especially when that phone call is to the head of the C.I.A.

  It's a phone call that's also the end of me. I know that, but I'm fine with it. Karma might be a motherfucker, but karma always gets paid.

  And I’m way overdue.

  We pull off the main road and roar up the dirt one through the trees to my airfield. Esteban's a good man, and sure enough, he's right where I asked him to be with the plane already revved up and ready. He's standing at the gate to meet us, face grim, and he slowly shakes his head at me as we screech to a halt.

  I know he's not into the plan, he made that pretty clear over the phone, but I honestly don't care. I could try and explain to my old friend about debts and dues, and how I'm ready to settle up for the horrible shit I've done, but it'd be wasted breath. He doesn't have to agree with me. All he has to do is do me this one, last favor.

  I grab Chelsea out of the jeep and we all run towards the plane. I can already see headlights back on the main road, and I swear under my breath as I help her up the steps into the plane. She's buckling her seatbelt, but when she sees Esteban come over to shake my hand and embrace me, her eyes narrow as confusion clouds her face.

  "Wait, what are you doing?" She looks wildly at the headlights bouncing up the dirt road through the trees; "Get on the plane!"

  But I know what happens if I get on that plane. And it's not jail that I'm worried about either, it’s the trouble and the hell that comes with me. If I get on that plane, she'll never be safe. They'll chase us forever, even if I do get thrown into jail with the key tossed away.

  But if I stay here, and I get her the fuck out of here, she’s got a shot, and that’s one chance I'm willing to take. She's protected when she’s home.

  I stay here. I take the heat and whatever hell and damnation comes with it.

  Again, I’m way past due on karma.

  "You're going to be fine, princess," I say quietly before I press my lips to hers and kiss her fiercely. I kiss her with everything I have left, because Goddamnit, if I'm going to go down, I'm gonna get one more fucking perfect kiss with this perfect girl before I go.

  There's so much more to say to her; so much I need to tell her, and so many things I want to explain. But there's just no more time.

  "Get on the plane! Javier!!" She's screaming at me as Esteban climbs up into the seat next to her and revs the engine.

  "Tell Logan and Quinn I’m sorry, for all of it." She's starting to cry and I grab her face in my hands; "I'm sorry, Chelsea; I'm so sorry."

  "Javier!"

  There’s headlights coming towards us, and it'll all be over soon. I kiss her once more; "I love you."

  I've literally never said those words to anyone in my life, and the pain is like a bullet through the heart. My face is grim as I nod to Esteban and the plane starts to move as I close the door and move away from the plane.

  The engine is roaring as they start to taxi down the runways, and Chelsea's screaming something as she pounds on the window. I'm about three seconds away from falling apart right there, when she mouths words that I want to believe are something I hope they are, but they can’t be, because that's a wasted wish to think she feels the same after all the shit I've pulled.

  The plane skims down the runways, bounces once, and then they're up.

  And she’s gone.

  I turn towards the sounds of jeeps crashing through the driveway gate, of yelling voices, of lights in my eyes, and calmly put my hands b
ehind my head.

  Now it's time to pay the reaper.

  "You're to be commended, Agent."

  The Director's office is as cold and sterile as the rest of the building; all metal and glass and blank surfaces devoid of emotion. Because that's what the job is; a lack of emotion and a lack of empathy in order to get done what needs to be done.

  Except a "lack of emotion" is basically the exact opposite of anything at all that happened on my first field mission. The Director doesn't know that, of course, but it's still making me feel impossibly small and unrewarding of any sort of "commending".

  "Thank you, sir."

  "You kept your head, you kept cool,and you followed your instincts."

  No, I didn't.

  My instincts were to get as far away from that man as possible, and telling my instincts to fuck off was the best thing I’ve ever done.

  "I didn't-" I shake my head; "I didn't complete the mission, sir."

  The Director snorts a laugh and stands from him chair. He walks over to the dry bar in the corner of his office and holds an empty glass towards me; "Drink, Agent?"

  How about tequila with a side of waves and a dash of sunset.

  "No thank you, sir."

  He nods before turning and pouring himself a splash of scotch; "I'm not worried about the original mission, Agent Archer; we did one better. Javier Toro was a nuisance; a pain in my ass and a thorn in the Agency’s side. With all due respect to what happened to you with your mission, it was a gopher mission; basic retrieval for an asset I'd rather just have disappear off the face of the Earth than actually have to deal with."

  My hands clench into fists and I force myself to breath as I close my eyes and count backwards from twenty.

  "I have no idea how you managed to persuade him to make that phone call, Agent, but Javier gave us everything; Koufax, Blackriver, all of it." He sits back at his desk and frowns; "They're denying it, of course; saying this Benson character was a 'rogue operative' or whatever. It's all bullshit, obviously, but we'll have a hell of a time proving that."

  "What happens now?”

  "With Koufax?" The Director's lips turn into a smile; “Columbian border control caught him coming through Cali and our teams there took over.” The Director smiles thinly; “Koufax disappears; end of discussion. I've got him on collusion, espionage, and treason. He's gone; he's a Goddamn ghost." He sips his scotch and nods slowly at me; "Toro's phone call solved a lot of stuff, Archer. I'm glad you got out when you did, but you should know we were going to come for you no matter what."

  Of course you were, I think, mentally rolling my eyes.

  "We leave no one behind, Agent."

  Except we did.

  We left the man I love.

  “She’ll be back.” Logan’s face is grim, and he’s not looking at me as the door to Hudson’s penthouse slams shut with my sister’s exit.

  My whole family is here for my “ripping the band-aid” moment of spilling my guts about the last few days, about Javier, and about, well, everything else they don’t know about me. Hudson sits quietly on his couch next to Reagan with my little niece Christine burbling quietly between them, pleasantly innocent of the drama brewing around her.

  “Logan, I-”

  “I don’t really need to know the details of you and that fucking piece of shit, OK Chels?”

  He’s still avoiding my eyes, looking at a blank spot on the wall opposite from where he stands with his arms crossed and his face grim. His sister Peyton shoots me a quick sympathetic look before she resumes playing the “everyone not looking at Chelsea” game while she rubs his back.

  “Logan will you look at me please?” Logan’s gaze steels itself, unwavering from it’s piercing stare at the wall. The air is thick with tension with me sitting by myself in the middle of it feeling like I failed them all.

  “So how long were you planning on having us think you were actually getting a masters in international economics?” Hudson isn’t overtly smiling, but I know that glint of humor in his eyes when I see it, and it gives me a sliver of confidence that my family will ever speak to me again.

  “I-”

  “School was part of her cover, Hudson.” Major Lawson has been quiet the whole time so far, standing by the window and looking out over Manhattan. My secret life has been cleared with my family as of one hour ago; all his doing. He turns, leveling his gaze at the three men in the room, one by one; “I’m sure you can all appreciate needing to hide a facet of yourself from even those love you.” Hudson grins, and even somber and quiet Bryce off by himself in the corner cracks a hint of a smile.

  Logan maintains his steely-eyed gaze, unwavering.

  “He’s not a bad guy, Logan.”

  “Yes, he is, Chelsea.”

  “OK, maybe he was a-”

  “Agreed.”

  Reagan puts Christine in Hudson’s lap before she comes over and gives me a hug, and I all but lose it right there; “I’m mad at you, you know,” She says, mashing her face into my shoulder as she squeezes me tightly to her; “But I understand, and I love you.”

  I raise my eyes to Logan as Reagan pulls away from me; “He saved my life, you know.”

  “It’s a start.”

  “Jesus Christ, Dempsey, how long are you going to hang onto this?” Bryce growls from across the room. He shakes his head at Hudson and Logan; “Are the two of you assholes seriously going to hold falling for someone you shouldn’t over her fucking head?”

  My face burns red and I raise my eyes to Bryce; ‘Thank you’, I mouth to him, and he winks at me.

  Hudson breaks first; “Damnit,” He huffs, standing and passing my niece to his wife before he comes over and scoops me into a big bear hug; “I guess I owe you for helping me sway this one.” He says grinning, jerking his head towards Reagan. “I don’t like him, you should know that; but I’m not going to get between two people who are going to crash into each other anyways.” I sniff back a tear as I smile at him, and he ruffles my hair like the kid-sister I am to him; “I’m just glad you’re ok, Chels.”

  Peyton prods Logan in the arm, but he brushes her off, and then growls as she rolls her eyes and comes over to hug me as well.

  Major Lawson clears his throat, and everyone - even stone-cold Logan, turns; “When I told William I’d watch his daughters,” The older man smiles and shakes his head; “Well, the job has certainly given me a bigger run for my money than I ever expected.”

  I can feel Reagan move behind me and squeeze my shoulder, and I look up at her and grin; “Major, I hope you know that we-”

  “I made a promise to your father, and I stand by that vow; no matter what.” He takes a deep breath, nodding as if choosing his words carefully; “Your father saw things in people. He saw the good and the worth in them when other’s didn’t.” Logan scowls and starts to turn away when the Major looks at him sharply; “Like, for instance, your adoptive brothers, Chelsea. Just like Hudson, and Bryce,” He looks at each of the men in turn; “Just like Logan. The three of them were,” He chuckles; “Well, I think we can agree that they were all works in progress when your father found them and when I first met them.”

  Hudson and Bryce share a look and shrug as they grin at each other.

  “But your father saw promise in them; the promise of the men they could be.”

  “He didn’t see it in Javier,” Logan mumbles.