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GRAY WOLF SECURITY, Texas: The Complete 6-Books Series

Page 22

by Glenna Sinclair

“You have a room upstairs?”

  I nodded. “Just like everyone else, I think.”

  “Yeah, I think most of the hotels in the area are full of sailors this weekend.”

  We walked into the bar and it was a sea of white. Most of the sailors were from our ship, a few turning to wave as we walked through the door. I spotted Ingram easily. He was by the bar, laughing at something someone had said. And then he turned and our eyes met.

  I wanted to disappear. I wanted to go back upstairs and forget that I ever got Philips’ call. I just had this feeling that something bad was about to happen. And then Carmichael’s hand moved over my ass.

  “Do you like that?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Please don’t,” I said, brushing his hand away and trying to put a little space between us.

  “What’s the matter, baby? Don’t you want some of this?”

  He grabbed a handful of ass that time, tugging me close enough to him that I could feel his rigid cock nestled in his jeans.

  “Stop!”

  I stepped back and then Ingram was there, tugging at my arm to get me out of the way as he threw a punch at Carmichael. The man fell like a sack of potatoes, out cold on the floor.

  “What the hell!”

  Philips grabbed Ingram’s arm, yelling for hotel security. Utter chaos erupted, some of Ingram’s pals from the ship tugging me out of the way, one of them leading me back upstairs so that I wouldn’t have to watch the MPs come and arrest my husband.

  I didn’t see him again for three days.

  “They’re charging me with assaulting a superior officer,” Ingram said as we sat across from each other at the holding center. He reached across to touch my hands, but the guard cleared his throat, reminding us both that we weren’t supposed to touch.

  “It’ll be okay. The JAG officer—”

  “He’s told me that we can use Carmichael’s prior association with this sort of sexual scandal as a defense. We just need you to testify that you weren’t a willing participant in the whole thing.”

  “If I testify, they could bring up our relationship.”

  “I know. But you’ve already filed your retirement papers, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but I was active duty at the time. I could be punished.”

  “I know, babe. If there was any other way… Carmichael is saying that I assaulted him because I was unhappy with some order he gave on the ship. He’s saying it has nothing to do with you.”

  “How could he say that? There was a whole room full of sailors there.”

  “I know. But that’s what he’s saying.”

  “We’ll get you out of this, babe. I promise.”

  He nodded, his eyes on me so full of trust that I could almost feel the burden of it on my shoulders. But I was there for him. I was going to do this for him.

  I was all set. I got to the court that day, my testimony organized and ready in my head. I was rounding the back of the building from the parking garage, and Philips suddenly appeared in the narrow alley.

  “You’re going to testify for Ensign Porter?”

  “What does it matter to you? The court isn’t interested in your role in all this.”

  “But they could be. And I’d rather not take any chances.”

  I brushed past him on my way into the building.

  “I know he’s your husband. I know the two of you snuck off three months ago and did the deed.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He pulled a copy of my marriage certificate out of his jacket pocket. He waved it in front of my face.

  “You’d be surprised what a person can find out,” he said.

  I nodded slowly. “So you know. So what?”

  “So, I know that the punishment for fraternizing with a superior officer is just as much as assaulting a superior officer might be. I also know that you could go to the brig for all the same things, including lying to a superior officer.”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “Yeah, well, it’ll look like you did when you get up on that witness stand and tell a different story from the one you told the MPs when all this began.”

  “I’m not going to.”

  “You are. You’re going to get on that stand and deny knowing Ensign Porter. You’re going to tell the court that you and Carmichael were in a relationship and Porter punched him for no reason.”

  I shook my head. “That’d send Ingram to the brig for years!”

  “Carmichael still has his jaw wired shut!”

  “He deserves it.”

  Philips pushed me backward, shoving me up against a wall just inside the entrance. “Things can happen to a man in the brig. Other prisoners might be told that a guy abused little children or that he spit on the flag. Or they might be paid by the right person on the outside to sharpen a shiv and shove it in his belly. Or those other prisoners could keep an eye on a guy, and make sure he doesn’t come to any harm.”

  “Are you threatening him?”

  “I’m threatening whomever I have to. You will lie on that stand and Porter will serve his time, or your little family will pay a stiff penalty.”

  He pulled a cellphone out of his back pocket and showed me a picture that scared the crap out of me. It was Ingram sleeping inside his cell. It was very obvious the picture was recent and it was taken from an intimate position. It was proof he could get to him inside the holding center.

  “Do you want him to survive? Do you want him to walk out of the brig one day?”

  I turned my face away, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to choke me.

  “We were just trying to have a little fun. You and your husband had to go and fucking turn it into a circus! I won’t go down alone on this.” His lips were right against my ear. “I won’t let you take me down for something I didn’t even get the chance to enjoy.”

  He pulled back and studied my face for a long moment. “Say exactly what I told you to say, then go home, knowing your husband will be safe in the brig. Let this go. Don’t ever interact with me or James or Carmichael again, and we’ll all be happy. Fuck with me, and I will make you pay.”

  He smacked the side of my face and walked away.

  I swallowed the tears that burned my throat. I pulled myself up to my full height and I walked the long corridors to the appropriate room. Ingram was sitting in front of the room beside the JAG officer representing him, a trusting smile touching his lips when he saw me. I smiled back. I wasn’t going to hang my husband out to dry. We were going to face this with honesty and face the consequences together.

  But as I took the stand, I saw Philips come into the room. He was holding his cellphone. The memory of that photo…

  “He was an ensign assigned to the same ship as I was. But our relationship was just that: I was his superior. I don’t know why he would take it upon himself to interfere in my conversation with Lieutenant Carmichael.”

  “You were never involved with Ensign Porter?” the JAG officer asked.

  “Never. In fact, Carmichael and I had been seeing each other for several months.”

  I saw Ingram’s heart shatter as he listened to my testimony. I saw the pain in his eyes as he refused to turn his face from mine. I saw the trust disappear, and the love dissolve. I could see him change right there in front of my face and there was nothing I could do about it.

  But I could also see Philips with a satisfied smirk on his face.

  I’m just trying to keep you safe…

  Chapter 10

  Ingram

  I grabbed what I could from the lodge: cans of food, the radio, the satellite telephone. I stuffed it all into a pillowcase, moving quickly and efficiently, constantly aware that Carmichael might not have come here alone. Shotgun shells. Ammunition for that pistol Bailey had found. I grabbed everything I could think of, making the sack almost too heavy to carry.

  I picked my way back to the cabin, soaked through by the time I got there. I pushed open the door and found Bailey huddled in front of the fire
, a blanket from the bed wrapped over her body.

  I hadn’t had a chance yet to process what she’d said to me just before the front of the cabin exploded. And I didn’t want to take the time now.

  I carried the sack into the kitchen and began unpacking it, tossing things here and there, and reloading the shotgun. I approached her and slipped the pistol out of her hand. I don’t even think she realized she was still holding it.

  I loaded it and held it out to her. Instead of taking it, she reached for me with both hands, causing her blanket to fall open. She was naked underneath, her beautiful body fully exposed as she tugged at my soaking wet shirt.

  “You need to take those off before you catch pneumonia or something.”

  “You’re the one who’s likely to catch something.” I snatched up the blanket and pulled it over her shoulders again. “Where are your clothes?”

  “Drying.”

  She gestured with her head toward the hearth. They were laid out there, slowly drying from the heat of the fireplace.

  “You’re the only person I’ve ever known to get naked in the middle of a fucking standoff.” I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Is that how you distract the enemy?”

  “Do you think there are more of them?”

  “I don’t know what might be out there. And neither do you.”

  “Yeah, well, I think it’d be safer to greet whatever’s waiting for us naked than to walk around in these wet clothes and get sick.”

  She tugged at my jeans now, unbuttoning the top and then brushing her fingers against my lower belly as she worked at the zipper. I grabbed her wrist, trying to stop her. But when she looked up at me, her eyes wide with fear and grief and a million things I didn’t want to see and didn’t want to admit that I shared, I couldn’t help myself.

  I pushed her back, my mouth capturing hers. She fell onto the bed. I ripped my shirt off my own body, finishing what she’d begun with my jeans. Then I fell onto the bed with her, my hands moving over places that were still intensely familiar despite time and distance. She molded herself against me, her hands warm as they slid over my body. I forgot about everything, about the last five years, the pain and anger that had been building all my life. I forgot about what she’d said to me, even forgot the man who lay dead in the mud less than a dozen yards from this place. I forgot everything as I let my lips slide over her neck, and down her upper chest as I captured one of those perfect nipples in my mouth.

  She moaned, her fingers dancing in my hair. She lifted her hips, shifting them, asking with her movements for things she’d never ask for with her lips. I nibbled at her hips, ran my tongue around the rim of her navel. And then lower, my fingers, my tongue, finding the warmth and the sweetness of her beautiful cunt. I nibbled at her outer lips, tugging at them with my teeth. And then I ran my tongue along her inner lips, tasting the core of her, tasting her need and her desire.

  She slid her legs over my shoulders, moving her hips against me, showing me where she wanted me. I found her clit and showed it a little attention, sucking and nibbling until she was moaning deep in her chest. And then my tongue slid deep inside of her, so deep that she cried out as she writhed against the mattress beneath me. I could feel her orgasm building, coming close to that moment of the most intense of all pleasures. I slowed my movements, made her beg for it. Made her ache for it. And when it happened, when she began that dance that told me she was there, I tugged at her a little more, sucked a little more. Then I moved up the length of her and slid my cock home.

  She wrapped her body around me, a whimper slipping from between her lips as I moved slowly, gently. It was barely a movement, really, just a little rock that reminded her I was there. When her orgasm was gone, I picked up speed, but still moved slow, wanting to enjoy every bit of this. I brushed her hair out of her face and studied those blue eyes that had haunted me from the moment I met her. I think I fell in love with her on our first meeting, I just couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that I was capable of such depth of emotion, let alone that someone like her could be capable of loving me. I had nothing to offer her but this, but this depth of emotion that frightened the shit out of me. Yet, she tied her future to mine.

  I loved her. And I’d missed her. I wasn’t capable of hating her as much as I wanted to.

  I touched her. I kissed her. I breathed in her scent and buried myself in everything about her. I wanted this more than I’d ever wanted anything. We moved to a building crescendo, the rhythm, the need, increasing with every movement. When I reached my climax, she was right there with me, crashing over the edge like the tide on the beach. The cabin seemed to shudder as we hit that spot, the hurricane touching land at the same moment.

  The wind was howling so loud that we couldn’t hear out own breathing. She wrapped herself harder around me, and held me hard against her. We clung to each other as the hurricane ripped and tore at the world around us.

  What else could we do?

  ~~~

  The storm raged for hours. The electricity was gone in the first few seconds, the building around us vibrating with the wind. We eventually moved out of the bed and huddled in front of the fireplace, holding each other and praying that the building would hold together. The windows shattered at one point despite the plywood. A leak began in one corner of the room, suggesting that the roof was beginning to disintegrate. But then the eye fell over us, the rain continuing, but the wind slowing.

  “We’re going to be okay,” Bailey whispered near my ear.

  I think she’d been whispering that the whole time, I just couldn’t hear her.

  If rescue workers had been able to get to this end of the island within minutes of the storm’s end, they would probably have been bemused by finding us tangled up together, naked and asleep, in front of the fireplace. I don’t know when we fell asleep, but I was sore and stiff when I woke late in the afternoon, her warm body still pressed to mine.

  “It’s over,” I whispered against her ear as she slowly woke.

  “Did we make it?”

  I chuckled. “We made it, babe.”

  She twisted around, her lips skimming my throat. We kissed for a long moment, but then I consciously pushed her away. I could lie there with her for the rest of my life, but there were things we needed to deal with.

  We dressed quickly and forced our way out the front door. There was debris everywhere. The trees were shredded, building materials scattered everywhere. The front of the cabin was torn to pieces, huge chunks missing from the roof. And there was a significantly large piece of roofing material that didn’t match this cabin shoved up against the front steps. Someone else was missing more roof than we were.

  We walked back toward the lodge, picking our way carefully through the mud and muck. The amount of debris was just amazing. It looked like a massive bomb had gone off somewhere.

  I heard the voices before she did. I stopped, stepping behind a tree, pulling her behind me. There were people moving around outside of the lodge. How could rescue workers have made it this far already? And then I spotted one and realized they weren’t rescue workers.

  Someone had called the police. And they were about to stumble on Carmichael’s body.

  I pulled Bailey around and forced her up against the tree.

  “I’ve got to get out of here and find out what the hell is going on before they find him.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “You should stay here. Go back to the cabin. Tell them you know nothing about any of this.”

  “I won’t let you face this alone. It’s my fault all this is happening.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  She looked up at me, and those no-nonsense eyes were alit with anger. “Don’t coddle me, Ingram. I know what you’re thinking. That man was here to shut me up. And he probably had something to do with my dad’s accident, too. They found out what I was doing; they found out that I didn’t just let it go when the court martial was over. And they’ve come to shut me up.”<
br />
  “But you’re safer with the cops here. When the others realize that I’m the one who got Carmichael…”

  “They must suspect something already. Why else would they send the cops up here?”

  I nodded.

  She grabbed my hand and started off in the opposite direction. “Let’s go, then.”

  We made our way along the beach, staying close to the surprisingly calm water. There were homes all along here, vacation homes mostly, where the tenants would likely have their boats out for the summer months. We searched for less than an hour when we came across a small speedboat that was tied to a low hanging tree. It was a miracle it hadn’t broken free during the storm. I think the only thing that saved it was the fact that it was in a bit of a cove, protected on two sides. We climbed in and I used my pocketknife to manipulate the ignition, using skills I didn’t think I would need to use after leaving the old neighborhood. In seconds we were on our way, speeding away from the island and out into the gulf.

  Bailey searched through the compartments on the boat, looking for something she wasn’t telling me about. What she found, though, was a little bit of a surprise. She held a piece of paper up where I could see it.

  “John Carmichael. He rented this boat.”

  “That’s how he got to the lodge. I was wondering about that.”

  “Why would he risk his life to come out here during a hurricane? The water must have been rough as hell.”

  “He really wanted you gone.”

  “But wouldn’t it have been suspicious if I was suddenly found shot to death after my dad’s death?”

  “Can I ask you something about your dad? Do you think the accident was meant for him?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  “He knew something was wrong. He suggested to me that he’d seen something he shouldn’t have and that he was trying to make it right. Do you know what that means?”

  She shook her head. “He knew about my investigation. We talked about it a few times. But that’s all we did. He didn’t help me, he didn’t confront those men. I’m not even sure he knew who they were.”

 

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