by Dale Mayer
“Someone wants to scare me off?” She waved to her house. “It’s not like I have much in valuables. I have a few pieces of secondhand furniture and some personal stuff. That’s about it.”
“Hmm,” was all he said, but his mind was churning. “Let’s go take a look inside and see how bad the damage is.”
He led the way, his boots crunching on the glass scattered on the steps. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a glove. Gently he opened the kitchen door. The screen came toward him easily enough, and she realized the exterior kitchen door had actually been broken in two.
He stepped inside and motioned for her to follow. “Don’t touch anything,” he warned.
“I won’t,” she muttered.
Beside him were the remains of a kitchen table and four chairs, all smashed to smithereens. He could hear her gasp in shock as they walked through the place. The contents of the cupboards looked to have been tossed; the fridge door was ajar, but even that looked to have been checked out. He walked toward the living room and stood stock-still.
Coming up behind him, she let out a gasp of outrage. “Oh, my God,” she cried. “There was no need to destroy everything.”
“This wasn’t a normal burglary,” he said. “Looks like they were searching for something.”
“Or they were vandals,” she snapped, “who just wanted to ruin things because they could.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but, as far as he was concerned, this looked like a whole lot more than a bunch of teenage hoods trying to make an impression.
He led the way upstairs and walked into her bedroom, finding exactly the same thing.
She pushed past him into the center of the room and stopped. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she put a hand to her temple. “Why?” she cried. “Why would anyone do this?”
Stone had more than a few ideas, but he didn’t think she was ready to hear them. “I know it’s a disaster, but can you possibly see if there’s anything missing?”
She glanced at him to see if he was serious.
He nodded. “Yes, I’m serious.”
She opened her arms wide. “I haven’t been here for eight months. How am I supposed to remember what might’ve been here?”
“Were there any special mementos? Any money, jewelry, anything valuable at all?”
She shook her head. “Everything I have that is along that line is in a safety deposit box at the bank,” she said. “I meant it when I said I was never here.” She turned to study her bed. Not only had the bedding been slashed, the mattresses had been upended and apparently the tops cut open. “There was nothing here to find.”
He waited while she walked through the room, talking out loud.
“This doesn’t make any sense. This is more than the work of vandals. What could they possibly have been looking for?” She turned to him. “And why now?”
He kept silent, waiting. She’d get there eventually.
“No one knew I was coming home,” she said, waving her arms. “So this couldn’t be timed.”
“Your dad said you were living at home with them.” Stone shrugged. “But, after Levi called your father, we changed your flight.”
“But, if no one knew about the side trip to Denver and just assumed I was coming straight home, I’d have been here when this happened.” Her voice rose at the end to almost a shriek.
Stone nodded. “If you’re thinking that somebody from London might’ve known and then set this off, I don’t think so.”
She stared at him. “Somebody had to know I was coming home.” She shook her head. “That’s just too bizarre. The timing’s too tight. It’s just too much to expect that somebody would’ve been logging on and searching the airline passenger list, deciding whether I’d be here, and then when I’m not, they tear my house apart,” she said. “Or did they think I had come home and then left again?”
Stone froze. “Maybe they did think you would be here. And maybe they also thought you would be bringing something home with you.”
She spun around and stared at him in shock. “Oh, my God! The drugs?”
“If it’s drugs that were actually seized in England.” He pulled out his phone. “I think we better ask Levi to check that out a little closer.”
Chapter 10
Lissa sat inside the jeep once again. With her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, she tried to find some logical explanation for what had happened to her place. All she could come up with was vandals out having a “fun” night. And that was a terrible thought. But the alternative was so much worse … to think someone was waiting for her to come home … and specifically targeting her.
Stone stood outside the jeep, talking on the phone. She didn’t bother listening. He’d been on the phone for at least fifteen minutes. The conversation seemed to be doing a roundabout. He’d obviously caught Levi before he got into bed, and the two of them were hashing out the same old thing from different angles. Finally the driver side door opened, and Stone sat down behind the wheel.
She didn’t know what kind of a solution he would find; she just hoped he had found one. She wasn’t ignorant of the fact that this was really her problem. But, if connected to the overseas mess, maybe he’d stick around a little longer and help her out. She’d pushed the bonds of a few days’ friendship already way too far.
He turned on the engine and put the jeep into reverse.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re heading to my place, the team’s place,” he corrected. “We all need some sleep, and then tomorrow we can all sit down and sort this out.”
She looked at the road ahead, twisting to take one last look at her property. It might look pretty on the outside, but something was rotten on the inside. She no longer wanted anything to do with it. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“We will do that in the morning.”
She had to be satisfied with that. She was too tired for much else. A tremor ran through her, she felt almost a disconnect from everything going on. Why was this not over? All she’d wanted to do was go home. Instead, it wasn’t even habitable. “I’ll have to call the insurance company.”
“Yes, you will. But again, tomorrow. Let’s get through tonight, rest, and recharge. In the morning we’ll figure this out.”
But just because he said it didn’t mean her mind would shut down. Had somebody expected her to bring something back? Had they torn her place apart looking for it? But since she hadn’t brought anything, if she’d been home last night, chances were it wouldn’t have worked out so well for her. Although theoretically she understood all that, it just seemed so far-fetched.
If it had happened over in Afghanistan—absolutely. She’d believe anything about those people. She’d been kicked, smacked, and hit. But it had never happened on American soil. She considered her home safe.
She stared down at her clenched fists and forced herself to open them. She’d come home expecting to feel safe, to have forgotten, left behind all the bad stuff. Instead she felt cheated, violated.
She was still running on adrenaline and fear. And with no end in sight. “Do you think anybody was still there? Watching us?” She turned to catch his gaze as he stared at her, a hard look in his eyes.
“Why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “They went to a lot of trouble. Maybe they were waiting around, watching for me.” At her words, a tremor rippled down her body. She stuffed her fist into her mouth to hold back a cry.
He reached across and gently clasped her knee. “Don’t even think like that. We didn’t see anybody. The place was empty.”
“But was it really? We didn’t look inside the closets. We didn’t look under the destroyed bed, what they left of it. It would make sense that they wouldn’t jump me if they saw you there.” She waved her hand at his body. “You’re the size of a bloody tank. Unless they had weapons, they wouldn’t want to take you on.” She studied his face and added, “And thank you, by the way.”
He gave a strangled excla
mation. “What are you talking about? Why are you thanking me?”
“I’m thanking you for bringing me home. Because I can’t imagine if I’d gone into that nightmare on my own.”
He held out his hand, palm up, and just waited. She didn’t hesitate. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed his long fingers tight. “I just can’t get it out of my head. What if I had come home and interrupted them?” She began to cry.
He squeezed her hand gently. “It didn’t happen. It won’t.”
He dropped her hand to shift gears and took a corner on the road. Thankfully, they were deserted. She was pretty damn sure he wasn’t going anywhere close to the speed limit.
“This is the kind of work you do all the time? How do you sleep at night? After your injuries, weren’t you always afraid of it happening again? Didn’t you wake up in the middle night screaming with the instant replay happening over and over again?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. It’s like a nightmare that never ends. But eventually it eases. The power of it diminishes. Sometimes you’re really lucky, and it doesn’t come at all.”
She realized she had unnerved him. She reached across and gently patted his thigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about me.”
She studied him. There was an aspect of his personality he hadn’t shared, and he likely wasn’t ready to. Maybe because she was a female. Giving into her feelings was a lot easier. She turned to him and said, “Do you ever just surrender? To feelings of fear, of the emotions?”
“Never.” His tone was hard and clipped.
She snuggled closer to the door, giving him a little more space. She hadn’t meant to pry, didn’t mean to prod, but it seemed inevitable. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”
“You worry too much.”
She didn’t. But she wouldn’t say another word. It was the least she could do for him. They drove silently for another forty-five minutes. She lost track of the turns he made, even the direction they traveled. She realized just how much trust she’d put in him. He brought her safely out of that horrific terrorist’s home in Afghanistan, and now, here in Texas, he was still looking after her. They finally drove into a very large compound. The gates closing behind the jeep caused her to jump. She couldn’t quite hold back her gasp of surprise.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not locking us in. It’s locking the world out.”
He turned off the jeep and hopped down. She opened her door and slid to the ground. A huge home with turrets stood before them with more buildings on both sides. She didn’t know what to think. As he walked around the jeep toward her, she said, “What kind of a place is this? It’s huge.”
“It’s home.” To him it was that simple.
She’d either get used to it or she wouldn’t, but she’d long lost the opportunity to escape. No way was she scaling the gate and fences around her. Then she realized she didn’t have to. He stood there with his hand out, waiting, always giving her a chance to say no, or to trust. She put her hand in his once again and said, “Well, I’ve trusted you so far.”
He tucked her hand into his and headed toward one of the doors. As they stepped on a rubber mat, the double doors opened up, and he led her inside.
*
She’d been through a lot. He would have understood if she’d refused to come into the compound. But he had driven straight in and closed the gates behind them. At this point, he was too damn tired to give an explanation. They were here; they were safe, and the rest of it could be dealt with tomorrow.
But he had to get her inside and set up in a bedroom first. He hoped someone had designated one for her. This house had lots of rooms, some stupid amount, like thirty-two of them. But they weren’t all ready and set up with furniture and beds. He’d move her into his bed again tonight if need be. But it would be different in this location.
Still, if that was what was required, then that was what he’d do. She snuggled close as they entered. He couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know who she could trust. As long as she trusted him, they’d be fine.
Throwing his arm around her shoulders, he didn’t give her any option but to keep moving at his pace. He kept going, straight to the stairs. He could’ve taken the elevator but that would probably be a bit much for her to handle at the moment. The stairs were close. Besides, he remembered her in the truck gasping for air. Claustrophobic.
He led her up the first flight, then the second. His bedroom was the second door, and one of the spare rooms was beside his. The others were on the same floor but down the other wings. At the spare room he opened it up and hit the lights, thankful a made-up bed was ready for her.
“This is yours for the night.” He motioned toward the bathroom on the right side of the room and saw a set a towels sitting on the bed. “I suggest you get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.” He turned to leave, hating the fatigue dragging him down.
One of the things he wanted to do right now was kick that prosthesis across the far side of the room and ease the load on the stump. He knew it would be inflamed. He’d been on it too much. Just as he reached the doorway, he heard her cry out, “Wait.”
He spun to look at her. “What’s the matter?”
She whispered, “Could you show me where you’re sleeping so I know I’m not totally alone?”
He curled a finger and waited until she walked over to him before he said, “This is your door and”—he pointed at the number sixteen, then to the door next to hers with the number seventeen on it—“that’s my door.”
He walked over and pushed it open, turned on the light, and said, “It’s almost a mirror image, and that’s where I’m sleeping.” He nudged her into her room and pulled the door almost closed. “Get some sleep. Everything will look much better in the morning.”
He tugged the door closed. He called out, “Good night,” then walked into his room and closed his door firmly. He knew that she’d hear the click.
He was too damn tired for anything other than walking over to the bed and stripping down. There he removed his prosthetic leg and laid it down on the floor beside the bed and crashed heavily on the covers. The throbbing in his leg slowly eased. He knew he should put cream on it tonight, but he was too damn tired. The one thing he did do was take a couple muscle relaxants. That was about the extent of what he could handle. And now he hoped he could actually crash.
Everything hurt. He rolled over, closed his eyes, and tried to fall asleep.
Just as he started to fade, he remembered her words. Surrender? Hell, no. He wasn’t even sure he knew what that meant. And then he drifted off to sleep.
The door opening woke him up a few minutes later. He bolted upright, and then he knew. “Lissa?”
The door opened wider, and she peered around the corner. He would not be sleeping alone tonight. Internally he was glad. It was important that she be the one to make the decision. He reached across to the inside of his bed and pulled the covers over toward him.
She slipped inside his room quietly, clicked the door closed, and then ran to his bed. She tucked up underneath his sheets and whispered, “Thank you.”
He shuffled slightly so he could wrap an arm around her and pulled her up against his big chest. “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”
And just like the last time, she drifted off like a baby. And just like before, he had a hard time.
How was he supposed to sleep with an angel in his arms? Even exhausted, the last remnants of fear still clinging to her, she smelled wonderful. And she felt even better. Lean, long, she fit him like a charm. But the sense of fragility no longer surrounded her.
And that was a good thing. He avoided tiny women. He was a big guy and had always been afraid of hurting them. She wasn’t tiny, but she was damn slim.
Still he’d seen her inner spirit, strength, and determination that she had used to get through these last
two days. He smiled and pulled her close, whispering, “What am I going to do with you?” And when she answered, he thought he must’ve heard it wrong because he knew she was asleep. He’d heard her snore gently for a few moments.
She’d been asleep; he’d been sure of it. But he’d also have sworn he heard her say, “Love me. Just love me.”
Pleased at the idea, but knowing she was dreaming, he closed his eyes and drifted toward sleep. He took that thought with him. Was love even possible? What he held in his arms right now was just so damn special, he’d do anything to not lose it.
Maybe dreams did come true. He’d never been a dreaming kind of guy, and lately he’d had only nightmares in his world, but maybe, just maybe that was changing.
Chapter 11
Lissa woke with a start. She lay still, figuring out what was wrong. Or maybe what was seriously right. A man’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her close. By just the size of him alone, she knew it had to be Stone. She could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest behind her, the gust of warm breath as it wafted somewhere in the vicinity of her head. She smiled and snuggled closer.
With her eyes closed, she just enjoyed the sensation of being held in someone’s embrace. It had been a long time since she’d had a serious relationship. She’d had a few short-term flings in the meantime, but nothing that counted. And overseas she had always been too afraid of the rules of foreign countries to get involved.
Now there was Stone. She never wanted to leave. But this was his home, his space.
Which reminded her of her home, or rather what was left of it. The windows alone could be several thousand dollars to fix. The doors, all the furnishings inside, those were definitely an insurance claim. Almost everything had to be replaced, she knew, and it would be a big job.
She couldn’t live there anytime soon. She hadn’t for a long time, which meant she must find another place.