I glanced down at the overly-large, sand-colored shirt and he was correct; it was five sizes too big. The extra material bunched at my waist and the sleeves nearly went to my elbows.
“Thanks,” I muttered as Drake took my ACU top and continued the process of dressing me.
I felt like a helpless child, unable to perform the simplest of tasks—I hated being weak and I should’ve cared—yet that was another emotion I couldn’t summon up.
There was rustling behind me, a zipper sounded, and I felt Drake move before he appeared in front of me. I hated he was now standing, looking down at me, arms crossed over his chest, a fierce look of disappointment clear.
That was when I took him in. He was huge. Vaguely, I wondered if he would look so big and broad without all his gear on. I could see brown hair peeking out from under his baseball cap. In the low light I couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but I didn’t need to to know they were expressive. He was seriously good-looking even with several days’ worth of stubble and grime coating his face.
Of course, I’d be rescued by the world’s hottest warfighter.
He looked menacing and mean looming over me and I had to fight the urge to shrink back.
What the fuck was wrong with me? I didn’t cower. I also didn’t sit on my ass and stare up at pissed-off men. I didn’t wait around for orders. I was the leader. I gave the orders.
I started to get to my feet, determined not to let the pain stop me, and sweet Jesus it was excruciating.
“There she is,” Drake mumbled.
“There who is?”
“Ranger McCoy.”
Drake didn’t offer his help as I made it upright and nearly cried out as my weight settled on my abused feet.
I wanted to remind him to call me Liberty. I wasn’t a Ranger, not anymore. I failed. I left a fallen comrade—five of them. I didn’t complete my mission. I had not displayed the intestinal fortitude required of me.
“Tell me, Ranger, what’s got you so pissed off?”
“You,” I snapped.
“Me?”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“You’re glaring.”
Drake’s deep chuckle filled the space and I was stunned. I wanted to ask him to do it again.
I wanted to close my eyes and bask in the warmth of that rumble. I wanted to pretend I wasn’t in Syria. I wanted to pretend my team was still alive. I wanted a lot of things that I couldn’t have because they weren’t real. I was in Syria, my team was dead, and I had let everyone down.
“Stop,” Drake growled.
“I’m not doing anything.” And I wasn’t. I was literally standing statue-still because I was afraid I’d fall on my face if I tried to move.
“Sure you are. You’re in your head beating yourself up. There’s plenty of time for that later. Right now, we need to get moving.”
“So let’s move.”
“I’m waiting on you.”
His glare said it all. The bastard knew why I hadn’t moved, yet his smug ass stood a few feet away, the picture of impatience.
Fuck him.
I took a tentative step, stumbled, and gritted my teeth in an unsuccessful effort not to howl my pain.
“Are you enjoying this?” I asked.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Then why are you standing there watching me?”
“What should I be doing, Ranger?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Would you prefer Lieutenant?”
Asshole. He was enjoying this. Poor, weak, Army officer struggling to walk.
“I’d prefer if you just left.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Just go, Drake. I’ll be ready in a minute. I don’t need you watching me, waiting until I fall down so you can laugh at me.”
Welp, that was the wrong thing to say. In two long strides, Drake was in my face more pissed-off than I’d seen him.
“Is that what you think? I’d fucking laugh. There’s not a goddamn thing funny about you being injured. Ask for help.”
Was he insane?
“I’m not weak and I don’t need your help.”
“You’re damn right you’re not weak. But what you are is stubborn. I don’t take you as stupid, Ranger. Don’t know what they teach you in the Army, but in the Navy, on the teams, we know our limitations. We know when to ask for help. If not to protect ourselves, then our platoon. So, what’s it gonna be? Are you gonna be stubborn and put us all at risk? Or are you gonna be smart, know your limits, and ask for fucking help?”
“Ask for help,” I bit out.
Drake still didn’t move—not to help me, not to move out of my personal space. He didn’t even smile in triumph.
“Well?” His brows rose in question.
“Well, what?”
“Are you gonna ask?”
I tried to mimic his frown, but it became extremely apparent how badly my face was mangled when pain radiated from the slight movement.
“Thought I just did.”
“No. You said you were going to, but you never actually did.”
Why the hell was he doing this? Why was he trying to humiliate me?
“Why are you making me ask when you know what I need?”
“Because you need to say the words. You need to accept you’re not at your best. You need to recognize that it’s okay to ask and it doesn’t make you frail or weak. Unless of course you want me to treat you like a target and not a Ranger. Because if that’s what you need, just tell me, and I’ll take over and lead the way.”
It wasn’t lost on me what he was doing or that he’d purposefully used part of the Ranger Creed to get my ass with the program. Yet I was still pissed.
“I need help,” I told him. “Would you mind?”
Drake’s lips curved up and the smile he bestowed on me felt like hot rays from the sun were burning my battered body.
What was that about?
“You got two choices,” he started. “You have no boots, your feet are fucked, and we’ve got five miles to exfil, but we can tape them and layer you up with socks. You’ll slow us down a good bit, but you’ll be walking. Or, we tape your feet, sock you up, and I carry you out. We’ll arrive at the exfil on time and be on our way a few hours sooner.”
Well, hell, why’d Drake have to go and start being nice? Though the choices he gave me sucked—I was in a no-win situation. It was cool of him to offer to let me walk out of this nightmare on my own two feet, but I wouldn’t put the men in jeopardy. That was something I’d promised myself I’d never do—I would never be the weak link.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d carry me.”
Before I could explain to him why, he swept me up into his arms and I let out a surprised gasp, which was akin to razor blades slicing my throat.
With me in his arms, he knelt to pick up the blanket I’d been standing on and I was seriously impressed with his lower body strength.
“Thanks,” I grumbled, remembering my manners.
“You’re welcome, Liberty.”
I was too busy trying to figure out why sometimes Drake called me Liberty, but others Lieutenant, ma’am, or Ranger. The name distinction was confusing. I’d missed Drake walking us over and rejoining the men, but then was pulled from my thoughts when I heard my name.
“I’m sorry, I missed that,” I said.
“I was asking if you were ready or if you needed to hit the head before we left,” Logan repeated and my face heated.
Thankfully my bladder was empty and I didn’t need to go to the bathroom—the mere thought of working out the logistics of that while my feet were in the condition they were in was enough to make me hold it for a hundred hours.
“I’m ready.”
But before we left, Drake did as he said he’d do and set me back down on the drum while he squatted in front of me. He taped my feet and dug out a pair of socks from his pack.
“Do me a favor and stand. I wann
a make sure it’s not going to be too painful for you if I have to set you down.”
Without argument, I took the hand he was offering and gingerly got to my feet.
“Can’t say it feels good, but it’s better than it was when I was barefoot,” I told him. “If need be I can fight, I won’t hold you back.”
Drake swung his backpack over his shoulder, adjusted his rifle, then picked me up.
“Counting on it.”
“Trey, you and Luke take point. Matt, cover Drake and the lieutenant, I’ll take the rear,” Logan barked orders.
“Just the way you like it,” Matt said and the guys all chuckled.
Something about the normalcy of joking with the team soured my stomach. I’d never get to exchange light-hearted jabs with my comrades again.
“Where’d you find my team?” I finally found the courage to ask after we’d been walking a few minutes.
“The second house we hit,” Drake told me.
“When was that?”
“Yesterday.”
I wondered if he was being intentionally short or if this was just the way he was.
“Were they…”
I couldn’t finish my question. Not only couldn’t I utter the words but I was regretting asking in the first place. I didn’t want to know. Not right then while Drake was carrying me. It would be easier to learn about my teammates’ demise during the debriefing, where after I could hide away in my bunk and no one would see me break down.
“By the looks of it, you caught the worst.”
“That’s not true, they’re dead and I’m not. I’d say their price was higher than mine.”
“Didn’t say they didn’t make the ultimate sacrifice, what I said was, you caught the worst of the torture.”
“Did you get them home?”
That earned me a squeeze from Drake. “Of course we did.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me for that. We never leave a man behind.”
“Like I did.”
Whoa. Why the hell had I let that slip out?
“You didn’t leave anyone behind, Lieutenant.”
I was too tired to figure out why I was Lieutenant again instead of Liberty. The man made me dizzy.
Silence fell and I didn’t try to fill it. Instead, I pressed my ear as hard as the pain would allow to Drake’s chest and tried to feel his heartbeat but nothing registered through his plate carrier. So instead, I settled on listening to his slow, steady breathing. I was not a small woman, yet Drake lugged me around with ease.
My eyelids got heavier and heavier until finally I couldn’t keep them open.
I just wanted to close my eyes and never open them again.
Unfortunately, I did wake up to the thrum of helicopter blades slicing through the air.
Panic invaded so quickly I choked on it, coughing and sputtering. Drake’s arms tightened and somehow he lifted me higher until we were face-to-face.
“Breathe, Ranger.” I sucked in a lungful of oxygen that did nothing to stop the fear from spreading. “Focus on me. Nothing else and slow down.” I was ruined, so totally broken I couldn’t stop the flashes of memories that were playing in my head. “Goddammit, Liberty, focus.” Drake gave me a bone-jarring shake and pain seared through me and finally the visions dimmed.
Unable to speak but needing to say something, I nodded and relaxed my body the best I could.
Drake returned the gesture, released his death grip, and lowered me back to the position he’d been carrying me in.
I watched as the helicopter approached, thinking I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to face what would come next. And I knew that made me an ungrateful bitch. Especially when five men didn’t have the same luxury.
“Everything’s okay,” Drake told me.
It wasn’t okay.
Nothing was.
And it never would be again.
8
The helicopter ride back to post filled me with an unexplainable dread. The lieutenant was safe, she would be heading stateside in a matter of days, and her family would tend to her.
So why the hell was my gut in knots at the thought of her not being with me? And moreover, why was I thinking about that shit at all? Lieutenant McCoy was not my business—but fuck it all, I wanted her to be.
I could feel Trey’s gaze drilling into the side of my head. He’d been staring at me for the last twenty minutes but fuck if I’d give him the satisfaction of looking over at him. I knew what he saw—Liberty still curled on my lap when I should’ve set her on the seat next to me. But damn if I could let her go—she’d be taken from me soon enough.
She’d go home, and I’d go wherever I was needed. That was the way this worked—yet, I didn’t want her to leave.
And that was a problem.
The pilot’s voice crackled through the headsets telling us we were two minutes out. I glanced at Luke and fuck me, he was staring, too. Not at my face but at my hands where I stupidly held Liberty’s.
So much for professional detachment.
I gave her hand a squeeze and her eyes came to mine and once again I was struck with their uniqueness. Even bloodshot, they were stunning.
“We’re landing,” I shouted over the noise in the cabin.
She nodded and went back to staring off into space.
A minute later we touched down and I knew we had seconds before all hell broke loose. The whining of the rotor blades started to wind down and my team started to move. It was now or never and I needed a word with Liberty before she was swept away.
There were a hundred reasons why this wasn’t a good idea, but right then, not a single one of them mattered. I caught Luke’s attention as he slid open the helicopter door and gestured for him to give me two minutes. With a disapproving scowl, he jerked his chin and jumped down.
Liberty stirred in my lap and I tightened my hold, trying not to, yet failing to think about how right she felt in my arms.
“Do you understand what’s getting ready to happen?” Her wide eyes locked on mine and she nodded. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Her gaze started to slide away and without thinking, I cupped her cheek and she flinched.
Fucking hell.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” I semi-repeated.
I knew she didn’t believe me and I also knew there was nothing I could say right then to convince her she’d make it through.
Once the silence stretched to awkward and I couldn’t bring myself to say what was truly on my mind, I leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead.
“You’re damn strong, Ranger.”
“I’m not—”
“The fact you’re sitting here proves otherwise.”
“Thank you for… Everything.”
Normally this was where I’d give the textbook response of “just doing my job” but saying that to Liberty felt wrong.
“My pleasure.”
“Will you do me one more favor?”
“Anything.”
And surprisingly I meant those words. I’d do anything she asked.
“After you help me out, will you let me walk?”
Pride filled my chest and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
“Sure will.”
“And stick close, just in case I start to take a header.”
“I’d never let you fall, Liberty.”
Christ, she smiled.
And when she did, the warmth in my chest turned to a burn.
Suddenly I needed to get away from the pretty Army Ranger, far away where I could have my head examined and shake these crazy thoughts.
But before I could stand and exit the now stifling cabin, Liberty brought our hands to her lips and pressed a kiss to the back of mine.
And fuck me, I felt that kiss like a shot of adrenaline.
“I won’t ever forget what you and the guys did for me. Not ever, Drake. Thank you.”<
br />
Shit yeah, we had to get the hell out of the helicopter before I made a complete fool of myself.
I exited as gently as I could but her mew of discomfort told me I didn’t cushion the hop down as well as I’d hoped.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
I set her sock-covered feet down on the tarmac and waited until she was steady before I stepped away so Ranger McCoy could walk to the briefing room under her own power. And damn if she didn’t hobble on bloody soles all the way to her commanding officer.
Not only did she walk but she did it with her head held high.
Goddamned magnificent.
* * *
“We need to talk,” Trey said as soon as Liberty was whisked away.
“I need to call Carter first.”
“Drake, we need to talk now.”
“No, Trey, we don’t. I know what you’re gonna say, so really, we don’t need to talk at all.”
“What the fuck was that back there?”
I stopped walking and turned to fully face my friend and tried to keep my temper in check.
“I said we’re not talking about it.”
“So you admit there’s something to talk about,” he pushed.
“Leave it.”
“It’s not like you to be emotionally invested in a target. So no, I’m not gonna leave it.”
Trey was trying to be a good friend. He was also right, I didn’t get emotionally invested in anything. But none of that meant I wanted to talk about why I felt like someone had just kicked me in the gut. I didn’t want to talk about why the knowledge that after I left here I’d never see her again felt like a dagger to the heart.
Nope, I wasn’t talking about it because it was crazy.
All I needed was to call Carter, take a hot shower, and grab a few hours of sleep. Then I’d wake up and we’d all have a good laugh about how I’d momentarily lost my ever-loving mind.
“I’m calling Carter,” I told him and walked away knowing I was being an inconsiderate prick but not giving the first fuck.
I avoided the TOC knowing that if General Wick saw me he’d demand an after-action report and the last thing I wanted to do was give an AAR—verbal or written.
Taking Liberty: The Next Generation Page 5