Defiance
Page 8
Gabriel eyed him. “The sarge didn’t usually share that with people.”
“We’d been friends a long time.” Zachary smiled slightly. “In fact, I met him about three hours before he grabbed you four from the foster home.”
“Really? I thought you were in the service together.” Gabriel’s gaze focused on Zachary. “Come to think of it, you’re nowhere near old enough.”
“When we met, he’d been out for a decade and was having trouble. I told him to find ways to be around people more.” Zachary shook his head ruefully. “If I’d known he’d interpret that to mean he should kidnap four children, I might have rethought my advice.”
Gabriel choked off a laugh. “Kidnapping is a harsh word. He did ask if we wanted to go with him.”
“You were ten.”
“Yeah, but streetwise. I figure that adds about a decade.”
Opening his hand, Zachary conceded him the point.
“However, he did mention it was your fault he was saddled with four smug little shitheads who were more fucked-up than a left-handed football bat.”
Zachary chuckled. “I haven’t heard that term in years. Old drill sergeants have a way with words, don’t they?”
“Yeah, he had a mouth on him when he wanted to mo-tee-vate us. But you know? Anytime I won a ‘good job’ from him, I walked on air for a good twenty-four hours after.” Gabriel lifted his glass. “Absent friends.”
Zachary clinked his glass against Gabriel’s and took a swallow against the thick grief in his throat.
A burst of laughter from the bar quieted the room, then people resumed their conversations.
“Mako trusted me with his secrets.” Zachary waited long enough for Gabriel to process that. “Tell me how you got hurt.”
Silence.
“You were usually going from job to job in South America, I know. A mission went bad?”
Dark brows pulled together, and Gabriel sighed. “Fuck, you’re stubborn.”
He had no idea.
“Fine. A CEO was on a factory inspection. My squad—I was in command—was ordered to guard him.” Gabriel looked away.
“I’m guessing someone shot at him, and you took the hit?” But that wouldn’t leave the jarring mess of emotions Zachary could sense. “Who else got hurt?”
Gabriel was caught in the memory, his gaze unfocused. “It was a clusterfuck. No one told us the bastard had pissed off the factory—hell, the town. We got ambushed.”
A town? Tensing inside, Zachary noted quietly, “A squad versus a town is impossible odds.”
“No lie. I lost everyone but me and another teammate.” Bitterness infused every word.
Too much bitterness. He’d called the client a bastard. “There’s more to it…”
Silence.
Gabriel took a long drink of his beer. “Turns out we protected a worthless motherfucker I wouldn’t waste my spit on, let alone the lives of my men.”
“Ah.” That kind of bitterness, Zachary understood. “You didn’t know before you arrived that the civilians were angry?”
“No.” Gabriel’s mouth twisted. “We should have been told. Damned REMFs.”
Rear-echelon-mother-fuckers. One of Mako’s favorite expressions. Zachary hesitated. “Your assignment survived when your men didn’t?”
“Not…exactly.”
“I see.” The withdrawn expression conveyed pursuing that question would be a mistake. “Are you still working for the merc outfit?”
“Not a chance. I’m done. If I’d known…”
If Gabriel had been warned about the town’s animosity, he’d have been prepared, and his men might have survived. Mako’d said his oldest son was not only a master strategist, but that anyone he commanded would follow him into hell and back. A man didn’t gain such loyalty without giving it back.
Guilt and grief were hard emotions to overcome.
“If you know all this, you know that none of it was your fault,” Zachary said firmly.
Gabriel stared at the fireplace where the flames had died down to gleaming coals. He shrugged.
Zachary sat back. Yes, the man knew—and the knowledge hadn’t made a dent in what his emotions told him. This wasn’t the time to dig deeper, to try to help, and wouldn’t be for a while to come. “Have you plans for what comes next? After you heal?”
“I’m going to go live in Mako’s old cabin.”
Zachary frowned. That log cabin in the middle of nowhere had no electricity, no plumbing, no running water, no phone service. “Why not your cabin in Rescue?”
Although all the sons had built cabins on the big Rescue property, none had ever moved there. They’d only used their homes like vacation cabins when visiting Mako.
“Too many people around. I want quiet.”
Gabriel wanted an isolated place during a frozen Alaska winter where it only got light for a handful of hours. “You’re not in any shape—”
“Why is someone shooting at you, Grayson?”
Excellent sidestep. Zachary almost laughed. Prying in return was fair play. “When I met a Marine who was psychologically unstable, I warned his senior officers to check on him. They did, and he blames me that he couldn’t return to combat. He took a shot at me in Tampa too.”
Gabriel blinked, then grinned. “And I thought my life sucked. At least I don’t have a pissed-off Marine on my ass. One that’s, at best, a mediocre shot.”
“Let’s hope the third time’s the charm doesn’t work for him.”
“Let’s hope.” Gabriel’s brows drew together. “What the fuck were you thinking letting your wife come here?”
“She was to stay in Tampa with our daughter.” Zachary sighed. “But she could tell I was unhappy about something.”
“About something?” Gabriel stared. “As in you didn’t tell her someone wants to blow your head off?”
“A mistake on my part. She knows now.” Zachary gave a rueful shake of his head. “She didn’t take it well.”
Gabriel broke out laughing. “I know it’s not funny, but she sounds like a hell of a woman.”
“She is.” And much, much more.
“Good enough.” Gabriel’s gaze focused over Zachary’s shoulder. “By the way, it took me a while to remember, but I’ve run into your bodyguard before. Iceman, right?”
The mercenary nickname had been mentioned in deVries’s file. “DeVries, but yes, I believe Iceman was his handle.” Back when the man had been doing contract work for a mercenary unit.
“He has a great rep. Good choice.”
“Yo, Gabe.” The bass voice came from across the room.
Gabriel looked around and raised a hand in acknowledgment. “Seems Bull has someone he wants me to meet. If you’ll excuse me?”
“Certainly.”
“By the way, thank you for arranging the send-off. It’s been good to remember the sarge as he was back in the day.” Finishing off his beer, Gabriel struggled to his feet.
Zachary started to rise to help, caught the scowl, and sat back down. Mako hadn’t accepted help easily. The apples hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
Leaning on his cane, Gabriel headed toward his brother. In pain, grieving, haunted by memories and guilt. And alone.
Zachary shook his head, reminded of how blessed he was by having Jessica in his life. His two sons. Sophia. And a new miracle waiting to be born. He was rich in all that counted.
A few minutes later, drink finished, he set the glass down on the coffee table. Time to make another circuit.
“I see you lost your friend. Perhaps another would do?” The redhead from before sat down close enough he could feel her body heat and smell her musky perfume.
She really didn’t take a hint.
“No. I’m married and—”
“I don’t mind.” She put her hand over his. “It’s a shame to spend a night alone.”
* * * * *
Being a mostly obedient submissive, Jessica had called Z to tell him she was on her way to the reception.
So she was waiting in the room for some man to show up and escort her. She blew out a breath. Fair enough. Now she knew what was going on, she could understand Z’s worry. And didn’t want to add to it. She’d made him promise to be equally careful.
Someone is trying to kill him. Every time she thought of it, fear shuddered through her. But at least she knew and could add another set of eyes. Z had been wrong not to tell her at once.
A tap on the door made her jump. As her heart hammered crazily, she laughed at herself and checked the peephole. Z had described her escort as massive with a shaved scalp and black goatee.
Check, check, check. She opened the door. Whew, the description didn’t do the man justice. He looked like the wrestler known as The Rock, for heaven’s sake.
He grinned at her. “Hi, Jessica. I’m Bull Peleki, here to provide escort service.”
“I’m all ready.” She stepped out, pulled the door shut, and shivered slightly. Alaska was so cold, even in the hotel. She couldn’t even imagine what it was like in the winter.
Walking beside Bull down the long corridor, she eyed him. Black pants, black shirt, black sport jacket. It was open and gave her glimpses of a shoulder-holstered handgun.
Huh. She’d thought Z’s bodyguard was the mean-looking one who’d followed them to the suite earlier. “Are you Z’s regular security guard?”
“No, that’d be deVries.” The man smiled down at her. “Grayson was going to come and get you, but the bodyguard said no. He didn’t want to risk the stalker getting into the reception. Since I happen to be armed, I volunteered.”
“Oh.” She frowned. He was carrying a pistol…for fun? “Well, I appreciate the escort.”
“My pleasure. I’ll admit, when Grayson said his wife had arrived, we hoped to meet you.”
This wasn’t fair. The man knew more about her than she did about him. “We?”
“My brothers and I. We’re Mako’s sons.”
A wave of sympathy swept over her. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Bull. I never met him, but from what Z said, he was an amazing person.”
“Yeah. A total hardass ex-sergeant. Batshit crazy. And one of the most generous men ever born.” He blinked a few times before smiling. “I have to say your husband is a pretty good guy. Did he ever tell you about the first time he visited us?”
“No, he just said he’d flown up to Alaska to check on you now and then.” She smiled up at Bull. “But Z has a habit of leaving off the interesting bits. Tell me.”
The man’s booming laugh filled the corridor. “First, where we lived was so far off the grid, you couldn’t even see the grid. And it took a four wheeler or snow machine to get to the cabin. Needless to say, no one visited. Until this guy showed up one day.”
She tilted her head, trying to imagine Z in that setting. And…yes, she could. Whatever he did, he did well. “So he showed up out of the blue. Did he scare you?”
“He’d ham radio’d Mako, but us boys had no clue he was coming. We didn’t even realize he was there until… Well, we were fighting. Back then, Hawk had days where almost anything would set him off.” Bull shrugged. “He’d had shit happen before Mako got us.”
Shit happened. To a child. Abuse of some sort. Jessica bit her lip, reminding herself that Mako’s sons were grown now. Doing all right.
“Anyway, when he was in a mood, he’d start fights with whoever opened his mouth. That day it was Caz. I jumped in to break it up, but Hawk whacked me with a stick, and I lost my temper and started pounding him. Caz had pulled a knife—his first resort is always a knife. Gabe heard us and…” Bull laughed under his breath. “Gabe was born to be a cop, you know? He was trying to break up the fight.”
Four boys, all fighting. A stick, knives, and fists. “That sounds horrible.”
“Eh, it was getting ugly, and then this man was there. Shoved Gabe off to one side. I tried to punch him, and he caught my wrist, yanked, and tossed me halfway across the clearing. Plucked the knife right out of Caz’s hand and threw the knife as if he was playing darts. Lodged in a tree trunk. And then he picked Hawk up by the collar and just held him there while he talked.”
Action, followed by psychology. Yes, that would be her Z. “Did the talking work?”
“Yeah.” At the elevators, Bull pressed the down button. “And once Hawk stopped trying to fight, Grayson told us to tell Mako he was there, and he took Hawk for a walk.”
“Oh boy, one of Z’s chats?”
Bull grinned, knowing exactly what she meant. “Yeah, we all got those chats off and on over the years. But, you know, after this first visit, Hawk started to get a handle on his off days. And Grayson gave Mako—and us—a few clues on how to help.”
Because that was what Z did. “I see.”
“You got quite a man there.”
“Yes, I do.” Keeping up with him was the problem.
As the floors flashed past, she frowned at her reflection in the mirrored elevator walls. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep. Way to be supportive of your man, Jessica.
And her exhaustion had given Z the exact wrong impression. With a sigh, she rubbed her hand over her stomach. We have to do better than this, baby.
“You look gorgeous.” Bull had obviously noticed her studying herself.
He probably just liked the dress. It made her eyes greener—and although the velvety-soft dress was modest, she had more than ample cleavage no matter what she wore.
“Thank you, but I was trying for healthy and strong, rather than pretty.” She’d nailed the healthy part, at least. She’d straightened her wavy long hair to a smooth, shining fall of golden blonde, and the salon had added pale streaks that brightened her coloring. She’d taken time to put on makeup so Z would notice her eyes—rather than the dark circles beneath. A dusting of blush certainly hadn’t hurt.
“Strong and healthy?” His black eyes took on a thoughtful look.
She shrugged. “He goes over-the-top trying to protect me. Because that’s who he is—but it isn’t who we are together. Sometimes he forgets that.”
Bull blinked. “That sounded like gibberish, but somehow it actually made sense.”
Laughing, she walked with him out of the elevator, past the busy cocktail lounge, across the lobby, and to the private bar. A placard announced: Michael Tyne: Send-off Wake. Two men blocked the entrance.
One of the men at the door was the bodyguard—the man Z had tried to draft into taking her to the airport. She still couldn’t believe he’d refused Master Z.
Blond with military-short hair, he wore black jeans and a black T-shirt over a thickly muscled chest. His square jaw looked stubborn, and his gray-green eyes were scary sharp.
But the man worked for Simon, and if he was guarding her husband, then the scarier the better.
He nodded at Bull, then his gaze came to her.
She smiled. “Good evening. Mr. deVries, right?”
“Just deVries.” His voice was as gravelly rough as Master Sam’s, his expression unreadable.
“Got it. I’m Jessica.”
Unimpressed, he scanned the lobby behind her, left and right, before his gaze returned to her. “Your husband is inside. Go on in.”
And stop interfering with his job. Okay, then.
“Thank you.” Followed by Bull, she walked into the room. Z sure knew some interesting people.
An older man standing with a group called to Bull. “Peleki, we have a question for you to resolve.”
Bull paused and shook his head at the man. “I need to—”
She patted his arm. “You escorted me here where it’s safe. I can handle finding Z.”
When he hesitated, she laughed “Seriously.” And moved away before he could argue further.
Stubborn over-protective men. God love them.
The room was crowded with guests. Mostly male, although there were couples here and there. Som
e wore dress uniforms; some were in civvies. Almost all of them possessed that air of someone who’d been to war.
Z had said he put out the word over the military grapevine, and soldiers had shown up from everywhere to honor the first sergeant.
As she walked across the room, she overheard comments that said Mako had taught a generation of soldiers how to serve with honor. How to stay alive. How to work as a team. She wished she could have met him.
After wandering around, she reached the back of the room and finally spotted Z.
With a woman.
Jessica let out an exasperated breath. Honestly. It wasn’t his fault; sheesh, he didn’t even flirt. And yet, the man attracted women like a lightbulb attracted moths.
Time to shoo away another bug.
She listened long enough to ensure she wasn’t interrupting anything except a woman on the make. Who wasn’t picking up the clues.
So without so much as a may I, Sir or an excuse me, please, she plopped herself right onto Z’s lap.
She felt his surprise, then his silent laugh. Closing his arms around her, he drew her up against his hard chest.
Acting as if she was sitting on a chair rather than a man, Jessica smiled at the redhead. “Hi there. I’m Jessica. How did you know the sergeant?”
The woman blinked. Frowned. “I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting him. I, uh, came in with a guest, but…”
But she’d seen Z, right?
The woman’s gaze slid over Z, and Jessica knew what she was admiring. A man with hard, chiseled features. Clean-shaven. Immaculate. Tailored black pants and silky black shirt. Treacherously elegant.
“I see.” And Jessica did. Z’s appeal couldn’t be denied.
“It was nice meeting you, Jessica,” the woman said. “I need to be going.”
As the woman walked away, Z rubbed his cheek against Jessica’s. “I did tell her I was married.”
“I’m sure you did.” Jessica caught his face between her hands the way Sophia liked to do and smiled at him. “You are just too gorgeous for mortal women to resist.”