I can’t help my smirk, and the elation I feel knowing these men trust me enough to have their backs. And sooner than is good, I’m at the now-open window and taking aim at the first body to cross the grass in my line of sight.
Bessie is perfect and well sighted and the guy is dead before he hits the ground.
“That’s one!”
More shots explode after that, lighting up the night. By the time I hit five and Lex hits three, I can tell that this is going to be bad. Black shadows melt out of the gloom, so many of them I’m sweating as I take aim and keep firing, trying as best I can to keep them away from the house.
Screams. Death. It’s everywhere. One big cluster bomb of doom. I knew this would be bad, don’t get me wrong, but as sweat pours into my eyes, minutes ticking by, my shoulder aching with the force of the rifle’s kickback, I finally understand Trace’s extreme paranoia.
This organization is coming at us full tilt, with everything they’ve got, and the chances of life after this are pretty slim.
Shit, I so should have had sex with Trace tonight before this happened, I think prosaically, putting a bullet in another cockroach only to have two more creep out of the darkness.
“Eleven! Shit, Jess, how’s that side looking? I’m drowning here!” Lex yells at me, making my stomach cramp.
“I got thirteen and I’m full up, buddy. Like freaking roaches!”
“Christ. Unload that AK, babe. Don’t think about where the bullets go, just give it all you’ve got. Nick and Jericho are holding the front and Blaze and King are in the trees. We need to keep the house secure.”
I hear his panic, though he doesn’t betray it in his actions as he keeps firing. I feel it as well and drop Bessie to grab the AK. The ratatatat is deafening as I unload clip after clip, mowing down bodies at a terrifying rate.
I feel elated when nothing else crawls out at me, but swiftly freeze when the cold press of a barrel digs into my skull.
“Put it all down and stand up, bitch.”
“Er.”
Training insists that I not allow this man to disarm me, but as Trace’s words echo in my skull and that damn bet whispers around me, I do it. I drop my guns and rise, hating my competitive spirit in that moment.
Don’t get shot, Jess. You know how the ass will crow if you get your ass shot.
“Slowly. Stand. Good. Take me to the women,” he hisses as I come to my feet, hands out at my sides when he starts shoving me, using my hair and a heavy twist to force me to move.
He wants Kinsley, I think, all the pieces falling into place suddenly, and I have to fight a laugh at the stupidity of us all. I should have seen this. I really should have seen this. Shadow thrives on intel, that’s just the way these outfits operate, but what makes them truly deadly is the manpower and intelligence they possess. Not only do they want whatever the guys have been sitting on, they want one of the best minds of this decade working for them.
Shit.
Looks like I’ll be losing that bet, I think morosely right before dropping down and twisting to deliver a swift sweep that shoots his legs out from under him.
The man is big, huge. Freaking heavy when he crashes down, pinning my right leg. I ignore the pain and lunge for him, needing that gun before he regains his senses.
I punch him as he rolls to rise, catching him unawares and lunge for the gun. Unfortunately, he punches back and sends me sprawling, his weight coming down over my chest before the black spots can clear from my sight.
“Don’t try it again, bitch, or I plaster your brains all over this floor. Where are the women?” he hisses, shoving the gun into my forehead.
The barrel is hard and digs in, but I ignore the pain and the ringing in my ears and roll my eyes to the left, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of Lex.
He’s either already dead or—I stop the thought, not able to bear the thought of one of my brothers dead and gone. Call me a girl, but that shit makes me want to bawl, something I cannot afford to do right now, not if—
Who am I kidding? I won’t live through this shit, and I know it. But the others can, and by God I will at least try to help them now, no matter what. Slap on a leash and call me Lassie; I’m loyal to the end.
“Aww, that’s so sad. You need to threaten me with a gun to get pussy?” I ask, tsking softly. “There should be a whorehouse in the city. Poor baby, you’ll have to pay extra though, because I doubt even whores would want to do your ugly ass.”
The slap is not unexpected. Hurts like hell though and my cheek definitely curses me as fire explodes in the left side of my face.
“I will kill you.”
“Puhleeze, of course you will. So why would I even bother to do what you want? Go ahead, limp dick, finish me because that’s all you’re gonna get.”
It’s dark, and I can hardly see his face, but I know he’s smiling from the flash of his white teeth.
“Your buddies are all out there getting killed, Jessica. You think someone’s going to come save you? You’re wrong. You can make this easier on yourself though,” he says, pulling the gun away to dig it into my shoulder.
The sound is loud, eclipsed only by excruciating pain as the bullet tears through me and exits out the back, hitting the hardwood floor. Oooh, Nick is gonna kill him now. The man refinished these floors by hand and is obsessive about their care.
Focus, Jess. Don’t get crazy now, girl, I bark, blinking rapidly as a scream tears through me. I may be cool and a kickass shot, but bullets hurt a lot and I’m still only human.
I won’t cry though. I’ve felt worse, much worse, and besides, I won’t give this guy the satisfaction.
“Ooooh, that hurt. Not! You done yet, asshole?” I ask in a singsong voice that only slightly quivers.
I’m pretty sure the pain is getting worse and, hysterically, I feel like passing out now. I should. Just let go, I think as my mind starts blinking in and out.
Really? That easy to give up on life, Jess? What about Oscar, huh? You’ll never know if Trace is right about that kid if you just let go. You’ve got a hundred bucks in the secret pool that he’ll be a shaman or mystic. And what about Trace? You’re supposed to make him wear a kilt to the wedding just to piss him off. And poor Lex and Nick and…the babies, Jess! You’ve already named all six of them and decided what they’ll grow up to be.
That gives me a swift kick in the pants, and I blink my eyes open just as he pulls back to aim the gun at my head again.
I can’t give up. I won’t, but he’s got me pinned and I’m facing down a bullet here as his finger starts to tighten.
“Screw this. I’ll kill you and find her myself. Say hello to that bastard Trace for me when you see him in hell, bitch.”
Chapter Sixteen
Trace
Rage and adrenalin are all that keep me going as blood seeps from my left side. I keep going though, because I have to. I can’t give up now that the tide has turned.
The others are cutting through the filth like a hot knife through butter, and all I can think about is getting to my girl. I need to see her and hold her and make sure that she’s okay and none of this has touched her. And then, by God, I will shout my love for her.
Seems fitting to do it now, when we’re bloody and doing what brought us together in the first place. A romantic I may not be, but hey, whatever works, right?
I clear the porch with a leap over the railing and slide into the house quietly, out of pure habit. My blood turns cold though when nothing but silence meets my ears, and I realize that something isn’t right.
I feel it in the tingle of my spine and the tightening of my skin. Lex is outside after having cleared the west side of the property, helping King and Blaze round up the last of the stragglers, so I should hear Jess right now.
Fuck, I forgot to give her an earpiece, goddammit.
“Go ahead! Do it, asshole, but you won’t get to the women, and you know it! Hear that? The fighting has stopped. Your little scapegoat Sahid is dead, you have no more men le
ft to cover your ass, and the information you want is gone with Kinsley. You’re screwed, asshole. Trace is going to kick your ass and throw you into a hole in butt-fuck hell.”
Jess’s voice is fierce, but I hear the tremor and the way her breath hitches, letting me know she’s hurt and scared. My baby is scared, and that just pisses me off.
“You think so? Think again. You think I knew how to get at you yahoos by luck? No, sweet Jessica. The senator that Trace is working with told me what he plans. I knew all along. I called in reinforcements already, and trust me, what’s coming this way is going to make my soldiers look like playtime.”
I recognize that voice and feel my hackles rise. Black, one of the guys I worked with on a few ops. Shit. He’s making a power play. I know it as surely as I know without seeing that the man is straddling Jess’s chest, his knees pinning her arms. It’s his MO and one I will make him bleed for.
Her whimper cuts through me, and I slide forward silently, peeking around the corner. Yup. He’ll suffer for this.
Jess laughs then, making me proud as hell, and sneers right back at him, showing her balls to the very end.
“Poor baby. I bet you didn’t know that right now Trace has Harem slicing and dicing all your operatives.” Her chuckle is music, and I hear her mock. “Poor misguided fool. Something you should know about my man: he’s nasty when he plans things. And cold, too. You think he’d just make things easy for you? He’s been skittish about that senator since the beginning, so he only told him as much as he wanted to. That man won’t live past dawn, and you know it. You’re done.”
Black snarls and aims but never gets a chance to pull the trigger, not with my knife in his neck, severing his spinal cord. He falls. Dead, sightless eyes stare up when Jess shoves him off and stumbles to her knees, grimacing in pain.
“Sheesh, Trace, were you taking a freaking nap!”
Sassy.
I’d be all over that right now if not for the fact that she’s bleeding and weaving unsteadily.
“You lost.”
“Screw you. You got shot way before I did, loser. I can tell from the coagulation on your shirt,” she crows, her pale face beaming proudly. “So, that spanking…”
Her smile is pure evil, and I’m laughing as I fall beside her close my eyes.
“Don’t even think about it, woman.”
“Chaps?” she asks hopefully.
“I’d rather die slowly.”
“Fine! A police outfit?”
“I already have something to shoot you with, baby, and it’s a lot more fun than some silly gun,” I utter, groaning at her growl.
“Jesus, you are a pig. You’re just lucky I love you enough not to mind,” she moans, laying her head on my lap with a sigh. “And you still haven’t won the other bet either. You promised me dates and wooing. Where’s my wooing?” she slurs, challenging me again.
God, I love this woman. She’s got a hole in her shoulder that’s pissing blood and looks painful, and yet she’s yanking my chain as usual. Is it any wonder I adore her?
“I bought you Oreos.”
“Pfft! That’s just pathetic. I want flowers and candlelight and mushy, sappy talk.”
“Not happening,” I chuckle, putting pressure on her shoulder as footsteps pound up the porch and Nick’s yelling rings around us.
“You’ll give it to me or you can play with your own nuts.”
Her slurring gets worse, but she fights to stay conscious and smiles up at me.
“Did I mention that I won?” she giggles, making me groan and, for once, concede defeat.
“I love you, Jess. Most of the time. Marry me?”
Her smile is tired, bloody, and so beautiful I can’t do a thing but wait breathlessly for her answer.
“Cowboy hat and man thong, Trace. That’s the deal.”
Christ.
“Deal, but you tell a soul, and our children will be motherless at some point.”
Jess just smiles and closes her eyes tiredly, as I lean in to kiss her, her pale face aglow with love.
“I’ll take it to the grave.”
Chapter Seventeen
Storm
I love the sound of children getting up to mischief just about as much as I love the muffled screams my wife makes as I thrust into her harder, my hips slapping her rounded ass with every stroke and grind.
“Hush now, Lenny, or the others will hear you,” I groan, plastering my chest to her back as tingles of pure pleasure start tingling in my nuts.
Sex with her is still the best thing I have ever felt in my life, even after five years and three kids. She’s still the hottest woman in existence to me, no matter how much her body changes with every pregnancy or how she complains that her ass is not cooperating with her anymore.
“Harder!”
Her sex is so hot and tight that I can’t do anything but comply, as my cock takes over and starts going at her with wild abandon. I don’t ever want to hurt her, but my woman is a freak in bed, and over the washing machine—as we are now—and she doesn’t ever obey when it comes to getting what she wants.
And in the last few months, since she found out she was pregnant again, that usually amounts to her attacking me at all hours of the day. She gets lusty when she’s pregnant, and it’s as great as it is terrifying.
“Hold still or I’ll take my dick away and leave you hanging, woman.”
The threat is empty, and she knows it because I keep fucking into her harder, gritting my teeth as wet heat envelops me, gliding over my shaft with every grind into her.
By the time I’m on the verge of coming and rubbing at her clit frantically, I’m so desperate that I give her what she wants and let go, doing her hard but ever careful of the little belly cupped in my big palms.
“Oh, yessssss,” she moans, clamping and sucking onto me as orgasm takes her, dragging me right along with her.
The next few minutes after my balls drop back into my sack and my breathing clears is spent fixing my baby up and kissing the hell out of her. Most nights, I wake up in a cold sweat because it hits me, even in sleep that she’s my everything and that I could still lose her.
Life is never certain, shit happens all the time, and I know that it could happen to us. I keep sane only because I have no choice and because Lenny once told me she’ll shoot me herself if I don’t get my mind in line and stop driving her nuts.
I obeyed, of course, well somewhat. I just don’t tell her that I still wake up at night and check the perimeter obsessively or that she and the kids all have trackers on their persons at all times. What she doesn’t know won’t get my balls kicked to death.
She and the kids are my everything, my life, and I aim to keep breathing for a long time, if only to prove to Jericho that I’m still top dog, no matter how crazy obsessive I’ve become.
“Stop being weird again, and let’s go make sure your son isn’t freaking the people out again.”
That has me chuckling, because Trace, damn his hide, was right. Oscar is a kid with…let’s just say he’s got a knack for knowing how people tick. I swear, sometimes that kid knows what you’ve done before you even do it. It’s scary, but I couldn’t be prouder. He loves his sisters Lou and Bebee like crazy and is so protective he blackened another kid’s eye for making Bebee cry at her preschool.
That meeting with the school was horrible, but Len and I laughed our assess off all the way home when that kid’s father came barreling into the place, yelling about violence and some idiocy only to take one look at me—and the five other men who turned up at the school—and well, let’s just say he got real quiet real fast and decided to take a “boys will be boys” outlook.
Good for him, because Lenny was ready to kick his ass. My baby is a bear who’ll rip you one if you breathe near her cubs.
“I love you, Lenny, you know that, babe?”
She blushes—still blushes all these years later and even after some of the dirty stuff she’s done to me in the ensuing years—and giggles, looking b
ack at me with a happiness I work hard to give her every day.
“I love you too, Storm. So much. Now come on, you sap, let’s go rescue Trace from that brood of his before the poor fool runs like hell.”
I follow her out, chuckling because we all know that man is stuck to his wife and would have to be killed before he lets go. Trace is what we call a reformed idiot. He once fought love and commitment with every breath in his body but now can’t stand the thought of leaving his family for even a day.
Jess has to force him to take missions with us just to get him out of the house and out of her hair. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s even more obsessed with his own wife than I am mine.
Just as Lenny predicted, the man is running around like a lunatic, trying to corral his little darlings while Jess sits on the porch with the other girls, a margarita in one hand as she smiles indulgently at her family.
“He’s a loon,” she mumbles when I stop and look back at Trace, who has one of his five daughters in one arm while he rushes after the other giggling demons.
Turns out the man has a talent for twins and nailed poor Jess with doubles twice before finishing it off with the last little heathen, Anna.
Jess still thinks it’s hilarious that he got all girls while Jericho has all boys despite wanting a little princess to coddle.
“He’s happy, which I never thought would happen till you gave the poor schmuck a break. He still sitting sentry at night?”
“Every night. I finally got him to agree to calm down and let the guards he hired do their jobs by agreeing to try for a boy. I swear to God, though, with my luck the man will nail me with three this time and they’ll be girls again,” she moans.
“At least that’ll keep him busy and off your ass for a while.”
She snorts, and I grin, knowing the man will probably carry her around all nine months unless she finally snaps and kills him.
“Go away and stop teasing me. He needs help and so does Jericho. Christ, his boys are wild.”
Trace
They all laugh at me and tease, but I could give a shit. What most of them don’t know is that I love every single one of my little heathen princesses, and though I want boys, a part of me hopes that Jess gives me another little girl with her pretty eyes and my hair.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 90