She couldn’t even get through one night without a panic attack thinking about the man who had beat her to near death and still looked for her now. She didn’t even trust the police. This town had a lot of police. A lot of soldiers, a lot of good people from what she had seen so far. She sighed and ran her hand along the dark blue rug. None of it mattered. She was timid except in the boxing class. She put on a strong, confident face in public, amongst Precious, who was badass herself, and in front of her boss, who was sweet as could be, even allowing her to take the back office, and never really have to show her face or socialize with customers.
That was sad, and she hated that. Essie had always been a people person. Tears filled her eyes. She played with the rug.
She was different. She was fearful, discouraged, and she couldn’t break this cycle.
She leaned her head back and cried. I’m not making the seven a.m. self-defense class. I just can’t risk it.
Chapter One
He stared out the window of the cabin, while he sharpened the blade of his hunting knife. His mind traveled a thousand places. The visions like photographs snapping quickly through his mind. Images of death, fire, pain, and the feeling of helplessness, then going ballistic. He blinked as the shots, so loud, so real, echoed in his head. He jerked, feeling the power of the gun in his hands, his arms, the numbness in his fingers as he unloaded his weapon into the sea of enemy soldiers.
He turned right, left, then center, clenched his eyes tightly, and then blinked until he saw her image. He tightened up. Froze at the sight of those gorgeous dark blue eyes, her luscious lips, delicate nose, and petite size. An angel. His angel.
His heart pounded hard and fast. He felt so desperate to see her in person. That’s all he really wanted to do. His mind snapped back to that evening. His desire to touch her, to be close to her, talk to her was too much to resist. He knew he shouldn’t. They had talked several times, and she shyly kept her distance as if she knew the evil within him and wanted to stay clear.
He shook his head. Rocked back and forth on the chair and dropped the knife. He gripped the arms and the flashbacks of the night he nearly beat her to death pulled him in. “No. No. My angel. I nearly killed my angel.”
He saw her bloody face, her beaten body—the angel now a monster, and he did that to her. He lost control and the images in his head identified her as an enemy. He’d reacted. He left her there to die, but she didn’t die. He tried to make it up to her. He broke into her car and left her things. He had watched her for so long before he made that stupid move and went to see her that night. He fucked up. He screwed up a simple recon mission to evaluate the situation, gain intel on his target, and prepare to make a move. But the flashbacks hit him instantly. The quiet city streets, the darkness, and his ability to camouflage with the night sent his instinctual training into a time warp of sorts. He lost his head. He was back in the desert, and his mind created a scenario that wasn’t real. Essie became a target, instead of his quest for help and peace of mind. He nearly killed his angel. When he finally snapped out of it, he heard her whimpers and sobs for help, and when he reached down and turned her onto her back, he lost his breath at the sight. A bloody mess. He left her for dead and ran from the scene.
It took days for him to come out of his hole, and he would stare at her bedroom, at every room in the apartment waiting to see her. He knew she’d survived. He knew what hospital she was in and that hardly anyone but her boss came to see her. She was alone, and she needed him, but he was the one that put her there.
He waited. Didn’t eat, didn’t drink, and was nearly delirious with hunger when she finally arrived back home. He watched her painstakingly go through her daily routines, and he saw her battered, bruised body and cried. The black and blue marks over her breasts, her belly, and her ribs. God, he broke her ribs, he had to have, they were so discolored, and she held them with each step she took. Her naked flesh was no longer pure and beautiful, but battered and ugly, done so by his hands, his rage, his inability to keep his fucking head screwed on tight.
He would make it up to her. He had to.
Then weeks passed, and he tried bumping into her to say hello, and the look of fear in her eyes told him that she knew. She knew he had been the one to hurt her so badly.
He tried sending her gifts. He even put things in her car. She called the police. The fucking police were assholes. Then the detectives got involved, and they found the cameras he’d planted in her apartment. All of them.
He raged for hours. Pissed that he couldn’t watch his angel. Couldn’t see the body he would claim as his own. That he would care for and scatter kisses over, and own. She would be his saving grace. The one to clear his mind of the demons that made him want to do things. To hurt people, to act out on his rage.
But without the cameras, he couldn’t watch her, and he lost his shit. He broke into her apartment, heard her answering machine go off with messages from two men who wanted to take her out to dinner or hang out with her. She was his. He stabbed the pillow numerous times, leaving the knife, and leaving her a message that they weren’t through and she belonged to him. To him and no one else. He wanted to hunt down those men and kill them but didn’t know their names. He never did find out who they were. It didn’t matter. She disappeared, in the middle of the night, to a place he had yet to find.
“Where are you, angel? I need you so badly. I want to make it up to you. To protect you from all others set to do you harm.” He licked his lips. Thought about her on the dance floor with her friends. They were slutty. She was sweet, sexy, but conservative. She had one hell of a body. Large breasts, slim hips, all of about five feet four inches tall, and those eyes. Those eyes set his heart, body, and soul on fire. She hadn’t even known he’d set those cameras up in her apartment. Hadn’t known he’d watched her. His mistake was not being able to hear her. To listen as she slept, her arm above her head, her thighs exposed, and even her pussy as she slept only in a T-shirt.
His cock hardened. He fucked up. He lost his fucking mind, a thing he just couldn’t control no matter how hard he pushed the visions away.
He slammed the table. He felt desperate. Oh so very desperate.
“I’ll find you, angel, and when I do, nothing else will matter but having you. Heart, body, and soul, forever.”
* * * *
Ford Stames was driving down Beach Road thinking about his cousin, Slayer. He was supposed to be here a month ago, and still no word. They were a team. Ford, his brothers Cobra, Max, and Turbo, along with their cousin Slayer. Slayer was resistant to change. Ford understood that, and he knew a lot of Slayer’s fears of settling down and trying to transition into civilian life were because of his experiences and the loss of his brother, Weiller. They all lost a good man that day in the war zone. Their cousin, just like Slayer, was more like a brother.
Slayer had a lot of issues. He didn’t like to socialize and wouldn’t be forced to. He liked to train. Felt that every day needed to consist of some form of training, even mentally. Cobra and Turbo shared that idea, but Ford and Max seemed to be pulling back from those soldier-mentality ways, and transitioning to being prepared, but fitting in. Taking on the self-defense training at the dojo was a huge step in doing just that. Though, because of their sizes and their strict, demanding attitudes, many of the people signing up for the program either loved it or hated it.
As he came to the red light before the small business district, he caught sight of a woman—blonde hair, business skirt in black, high heels, white blouse, carrying a briefcase and a black leather satchel. He had to do a double take. Essie.
He saw her walk to the front door of a small building. As the traffic light changed, he watched her disappear into the place and read the sign. It was some sort of insurance agency. Maybe that was where she worked?
As he continued down the block, he pulled into a parking spot by the café. He thought about her. She was beyond shy when it came to him and his brothers, but the woman was gorgeous. Young.
Super fucking young, compared to them, but they all noticed her. They talked about her after the celebratory party at Carlyle’s the night they all celebrated Precious being okay and surviving the abduction. Essie stayed clear of them. He actually thought maybe she liked Bobby and Ronin, but that wasn’t the case. They said they asked her out and she declined. Something about not dating, but Ronin mentioned the way she kept a distance and seemed to not like social settings. He and his brothers, Cobra, Max, and Turbo all tried starting up a conversation with her, but she stuttered, looked around for an escape route, and finally just disappeared.
He knew they were big men, and a lot of women flirted with them that had the guts, but they kept to themselves, too. Essie was special. There was something in her gorgeous dark blue eyes that called to him. His instincts told him she was scared, and maybe just wasn’t experienced with men. They were older. He didn’t know what it was, and he shouldn’t let it bother him that she seemed scared of him, but it did bother him.
He got out of the truck and headed into the café for a coffee. While he waited, he wondered why she didn’t try to take the self- defense class. He noticed other women who took the classes Essie did at the dojo gave it a try, but not Essie. Was it because he and his brothers were the instructors? He felt the scowl from on his face, and as the door chimed indicating someone was coming in, he locked gazes with Essie, who stopped short, looking petrified. He realized he was glaring at her. He quickly gave a smile, but she had already turned away.
“Good morning, Essie. The regular?” the woman behind the counter asked.
“Yes, please, and Mo would like two jelly donuts, and Terry a toasted bagel with cream cheese,” she told the woman, and he wondered who the people were she ordered for.
“No problem. I’ll grab your coffee so you can have it as you wait,” she said.
“Thank you, Denise,” Essie stated, and then she waited and wouldn’t look at him.
He didn’t like that. She was avoiding him, and he wondered why.
“I missed you this morning,” he said to her, and she swung her head toward him looking shocked. Denise, the woman behind the counter, said her name and smiled, watching him flirt with Essie. Denise gave her a wink.
“Excuse me,” Essie said to him softly. She was sweet, absolutely sexy as damn hell, and he towered over her. He imagined snagging her around her waist, hoisting her up against his chest and off her feet, kissing her breathless. What in God’s name would she do if he did that? She was the kind of woman a man would keep right by his side, would lift up into his arms and carry across a puddle, hell, a woman who needed protection. She was so darn sweet and feminine.
“I missed you at the self-defense training class. Thought you would be there,” he said to her, and she worried her bottom lip. He hid his smirk and took a sip from his to-go cup of coffee.
Essie looked at Denise, who smiled wide and then went about preparing the order for Essie.
“There’s a class tomorrow,” he told her. Ford couldn’t help but gaze over her body. When he looked into her eyes, he could see they were a little red, and he stepped closer.
“You feeling okay? You look a little tired.” He leaned a hand on the counter next to her hip. She worried her bottom lip and then picked up her coffee cup, side stepped from him and took another sip. Then she hardly held his gaze when she responded.
“I never said I was interested in going to that class.”
“Why not? It’s a great class every woman should take.”
“Then why do so many men take the class?” she countered.
“It’s a great workout, and the men who do take the class also help instruct. We’ve been pretty crowded and want to make sure every woman gets the techniques correct,” he told her and swept his eyes over her top. She was modest, conservative, but well-endowed. She couldn’t hide it so much in the gym attire.
She took another sip of coffee, but it seemed she did so out of nervousness.
He squinted at her.
“You know I have many years of training, as do my brothers Max, Cobra, and Turbo. We know what we’re doing, and we like to train people to be able to defend themselves or at least have a fighting chance. A beautiful, sweet, young woman like you should be prepared. Don’t have the attitude that nothing bad could ever happen to you.”
Her eyes widened and then she exhaled. It didn’t feel right. Her response, that look in her eyes of surprise, or maybe it was that he hit the nail on the head and she had experienced something where she had needed to defend herself. His mind went from one crazy worry to the next.
“Why do you take that kickboxing class?” he asked her before Denise said the order was ready.
Essie thanked her and then took the bag, Denise smiling at the two of them, and Ford gave Denise a wink.
“Have a nice day.”
“You, too, and good luck,” she said, and it seemed to surprise Essie.
Essie looked at Denise.
“Honey, if you aren’t interested in taking a self-defense course with this guy, then I’ll do it, and I have a bad knee,” Denise said, and Ford chuckled. Essie started heading toward the door. Ford hurried to open it, his arm above her shoulder, and he looked down into her eyes as she turned back toward him.
“I’m not interested.”
“Your friend was.”
“So go back in and see if she wants to be another one of your trainees.”
“Hmm, jealous?” he asked. She stopped short on the sidewalk and looked up at him.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Really, because you look a little flushed,” he said and reached out to caress her cheek. Her lips parted, and his heart hammered inside of his chest.
“Damn, you need to take my class with me.”
“No.” She turned around and continued walking. He followed.
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t interest me.”
“Which part?”
“I don’t know, the rolling around on the mat with some strange man who just wants to roll around on a mat with different women and feel like a macho, big guy,” she said.
“What?” he asked and chuckled. She stopped again, turned, and looked up at him. She was shaking.
“I don’t want to go to the class. I don’t want to have a conversation with you. I just want to be alone, and go to work.”
He placed his hands on his hips.
“Scared, huh?” he pushed. Her eyes widened, and then her lips tightened.
“What?”
“You’re scared. I get it. Afraid that you could get hurt? Afraid that it may be too difficult for you to handle?” he challenged.
“I’m not afraid of the class or of you.”
“Well, then I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven. Don’t be late, or you’ll have to do extra laps and push-ups. Have a nice day at work,” he told her and glanced at the sign above her office door, giving her a wink and heading back down the sidewalk. When he turned to look back, she was staring at him, then headed inside of the front door to the office. Now he knew where she worked and where she went for coffee before work. He would make sure he bumped into her again.
* * * *
Once Essie got to the office in the back room, she closed the door and fell into her chair. She covered her face with her hands.
What have I done? That crazy jerk got under my skin and made me react. He got me angry, and I actually spoke back and didn’t fold under. How the hell did he do that?
Shit. What am I going to do? Precious can’t take that class yet. She’s still recovering from her injuries, plus Magnum wouldn’t let her until she was five hundred percent better. She smirked. Precious was so lucky to have Magnum, Cavanaugh, and Carlyle. She was envious, but the thought of even dating scared the bejesus out of her. She shook her head and then thought about Ford. She wasn’t going to show up at that class tomorrow morning. She would go to her regular Saturday morning class. His challenges didn’t matter to her at all.
Chapter Two
“He’s here, and he doesn’t even tell us anything or let us know?” Turbo asked Cobra. Ford and Max sat by the island getting ready for dinner.
“He texted that he was in the area but had to stop by and take care of something. That he would be here tonight,” Cobra replied and then prepared the burgers to go on the grill.
“He texted. That fucking can’t be good,” Max stated and then took a slug of beer from the bottle he drank from.
“Let’s not assume the worst,” Ford stated diplomatically. Cobra exhaled and felt that uneasy feeling he always got when Slayer was around. He wanted his cousin permanently with them, not running off on dangerous missions with a fucking death wish. He was trying to keep his opinions and feelings to himself, but it was high time he sat Slayer down and told him enough was enough.
“Anyone else feeling antsy?” Max asked. They all looked at one another. The mood changed dramatically the second Cobra informed his brothers, his team, that Slayer was in town.
“Um, guess who I bumped into today?” Ford said and then rubbed his hand along his beard smirking.
Cobra stared at him, and then Turbo and Max shook their heads.
“She even say hello to you, or did she avoid you like she avoids the rest of us?” Turbo asked with an attitude.
Ford smirked.
“Well, I didn’t give her much of a choice this time. I kind of cornered her by the café on Beach road. Turns out she works right down the block at this insurance agency.”
“What happened?” Max asked, and Cobra tried to ignore the upbeat feeling he instantly got every time Essie was mentioned. He listened as Ford told his story about meeting her in the café, teasing her, and then challenging her.
“What made you do that?” Max asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied and played with his bottle of beer.
It Takes Special Forces [Love on the Rocks 9] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Page 2