Merciless

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Merciless Page 9

by Sybil Bartel

THE RATIONAL SIDE OF MY brain was yelling every rational thing you would say to someone who’d lost their shit, but the emotional side didn’t give one fuck.

  I was holding her in my arms and she’d agreed to give this crazy fucking idea of us a shot, and I just didn’t give a fuck about anything else.

  I held her tight and kissed her.

  I didn’t pay attention to the stiffness in her limbs, or the quietness about her, or whatever the fuck had happened at Dax’s.

  I took her mouth, and she kissed me back. But before I could take it any further, she pulled back.

  Her hand roamed down my chest as if she were pushing me away, but there was no pressure in her touch. “I’m tired,” she whispered.

  Fuck, I was bone tired. But I was also ecstatic. “Come on.” I turned her in my arms. “Let’s get a few hours’ sleep and we can work out the details in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  I loved the quietness of her voice. Everything downrange had a noise, and none of it was quiet or gentle. But her voice? It was both. She didn’t use her voice as a statement of presence, and she certainly didn’t pitch it to annoying-as-fuck highs like some women did. Despite the clothes she wore and the wildness of her hair, she was feminine as hell. Except when I was pounding into her, then her voice took on a sexy rasp that was one hundred percent wild, and I fucking loved it.

  I tucked her into my arms and inhaled the sweet scent of her that was sex and spice and exertion, but all woman. “You need anything?” My head was so far gone over her, I’d fucked her twice and hadn’t attempted to clean her up, or shit, get her something to drink.

  Her back to my chest, she settled against me. “I’m good.”

  She was more than good. “Goodnight, Brookelyn.”

  “Goodnight, Garrett Collins.”

  I smiled against her hair. “What’s your last name?”

  “You offered a woman your condo while you’re gone, and you don’t even know her last name?” she teased.

  “I did, and I don’t.” I kissed her temple. “Dax knows it.” I told the nagging warning in the back of my head to fuck off. “But if you want to tell me….” Trailing off, I pulled her ass against my already half-hard cock. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “I think I’ve had enough worthwhile for right now.”

  No change in her tone, I didn’t know if she was kidding. “For real, you uncomfortably sore?” Her pussy had been tight as fuck. “I can put you in the bath.”

  “It’s fine. I’m okay.” She paused, as if debating whether to say more.

  Learning to read her, I waited.

  She finished her thought. “But thank you for offering.”

  I didn’t know why, but her thank-you hit my chest, and for a second, it made me sad as fuck. Inhaling, I shook it off. “Anytime.”

  “Goodnight,” she whispered.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.” I tightened my arms around her and settled against the pillows.

  I was almost asleep when she whispered once more.

  “I like you, Garrett Collins.” She took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I really like you.”

  HIS CHEST ROSE AND FELL steadily. He was beautiful to watch, but my time was coming to an end.

  Reluctantly, I slowly lifted his arm.

  As if he were trained to wake at the slightest noise or movement, his reaction was instant. He sucked in a sharp breath and his body stiffened before he went up on one arm and scanned the room. Then he looked down at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I slid out from under his arm and made up a lie. “I’m just going to grab a quick shower and get a drink of water,” I added, thinking of an excuse to get me closer to the front door.

  He started to get up. “I’ll get you water.”

  “Stop.” I placed my hand on his chest. “I got it.” He’d fallen asleep within minutes of saying goodnight earlier. I knew he was exhausted. “Go back to sleep. You’re tired, and you need more than a couple hours’ of rest.” He had a war to go back to that I was sure didn’t sleep.

  He lay back down and the side of his mouth tipped up. “You bossing me around because I fell asleep on you earlier?”

  “Something like that.” I was tired of lying to him.

  His head cocked, and he studied me for a moment. “I think I’m beginning to speak Brookelyn.”

  My heart rate kicked up, but I kept my expression blank. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning…” Lacing his fingers, he put his hands behind his head. “I’m beginning to understand that for every word you say, there are a dozen left unspoken.”

  My gaze cut to his huge biceps and a line of indecipherable text he had inked on the underside of each one. I ignored his statement. In fact, I didn’t say anything at all.

  He chuckled. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

  I snapped my gaze back to his, only to find a mischievous smile tipped half his mouth up.

  He winked. “See something you like?”

  My heart both skipped and ached as my stomach fluttered. God, I didn’t want to leave him. “I already had something I like,” I said honestly, wondering what the tattoos meant.

  “Ditto.” His face sobered. “You want to know what they say?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. He said something in a language I didn’t recognize. “It’s Hebrew,” he explained. “It means courage.” He lifted his left arm slightly. “And commitment.” He lifted his right arm.

  My heart twisted when he said commitment. “Are you Jewish?”

  “My father was.”

  “And your mother?” I had no right to ask. It didn’t matter what religion or faith or culture he or his parents were. I was nothing to this man, and he was nothing to me.

  His almost-smile came back, but this time it was accompanied by a smirk. “She was a God-fearing Southern Baptist until the Alzheimer’s ate away her memory. Now she thinks faeries and unicorns are real, and Santa will come for her on his sleigh.”

  “I’m sorry.” I knew what it was like to lose a parent.

  He shrugged. “It is what it is.” He settled back on the pillows and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “I only have a few more hours.”

  Ignoring the ache in my chest that this would be the last time I saw him, I focused on what I needed to do. I had to leave before Nathan found me. I couldn’t stay till morning. I couldn’t look Garrett in the eye and take his keys or his number.

  I had to get out of Miami and go somewhere far away where Nathan wouldn’t find me. Not that it would change who I was or what I’d done. I had to live with that, but Garret didn’t. He was a war hero, and he was a good man. I needed to protect him from my past, because in all of his visceral honesty, laying out everything he wanted, he was missing one crucial piece of the puzzle.

  He’d offered his place to a criminal.

  And that, I needed to protect him from.

  I stood. “Get some sleep while you can. I’m just going to use the bathroom and grab a drink.” I took a step toward the door.

  “You’re not running out on me, are you?” he joked.

  My stomach dropped and a lump formed in my throat. “And give up a chance to squat in a condo in Miami Beach with a killer view?” I deadpanned.

  He chuckled quietly. “Is that all I’m good for, woman? A nice view?”

  I looked over my shoulder and took in the breathtaking sight of him. “And a nice fuck.”

  He scoffed. “Nice?”

  “Nice,” I repeated, forcing a smile to cover the upheaval happening in my nervous system.

  Sexy and wicked, he grinned. “Go get a drink, woman. Do what you gotta do. Then come back and I’ll show you just how nice I can be.”

  My stomach churned with regret and sorrow, but my traitorous pussy clenched with emptiness and need. “If you’re lucky,” I quipped, knowing full well he wasn’t.

  “Right.” He held the grin. “If I’m lucky.”

  “Go to sleep.” Please go to sleep.


  His face sobered. “Why?”

  My breath caught with panic and I wondered if I’d have the strength to walk away from him while he watched. Or if he’d let me. Or if I even wanted to try. For two heartbeats I stared at him, committing every detail of his handsome face to memory, and I knew. I wouldn’t be able to walk away from him while he watched.

  No choice, I lied again. “So I can wake you.”

  His relaxed, easy expression returned and he settled back on the pillows again. “Don’t forget.” He closed his eyes.

  I took a step toward the door.

  “And, Brookelyn?”

  My heart hammering, I froze. “Yeah?”

  His voice dropped. “Be creative.”

  “Creative.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat the size of Florida and reached for the door handle. “Got it.”

  He voice turned even quieter. “Brook?”

  My heart stopped, hearing him call me that. “Yeah?”

  “Wrong door, sweetheart. Bathroom’s behind you.”

  Fuck. Fuck. “Right.”

  “Let me know if you need help,” he teased, his low voice barely moving the air, but still sending gooseflesh racing across my skin.

  “Got it,” I managed, before turning and rushing toward the master bath.

  I closed the door, but only partway, leaving it a few inches open so I could see when he fell back asleep, then I turned on the shower and the faucet. Sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub, I dropped my head to my hands.

  I could do this.

  I had to do this.

  I didn’t have a choice.

  But for one crushing moment, I imagined I did. Pretending I was just a girl who deserved a war hero and a condo in the sky, I imagined a life with someone who cared about me, maybe even loved me. Someone who didn’t use me. Someone honorable and strong and caring.

  Someone exactly like Garrett Collins.

  But that was never going to happen.

  Getting up, I peeked out the door. His massive body taking up almost the whole bed, his arm over his head, his chest rose and fell steadily as if he were already asleep.

  I turned off the faucet, but left the shower going, then I sat back down on the edge of the tub and counted down five minutes. The irony of the exercise not lost on me, I stood when I got down to ten seconds and glanced out the door again.

  He’d rolled to his side and his chest rose and fell steadily.

  Now or never.

  With a practiced quiet and sure footing on my tiptoes, I slipped through the partly open bathroom door.

  My heart pounding, his seed running down my leg, I held my breath as I noiselessly made my way to the bedroom door. Crossing the threshold, I glanced back once more.

  A warrior with a heart of gold lay sound asleep in his bed.

  My breath hitched and I ran-walked to the kitchen. Throwing my clothes back on, my heart crushing in on itself, I grabbed my backpack and carried my shoes to the front door.

  As quietly as I could, I opened the front door.

  Then my heart fucking stopped.

  Nathan.

  Waiting for me.

  Leaning on the wall right outside the door, a smile on his too-pretty face, he winked. “Did he fuck you good?”

  Horrified, terrified, I made to close Garrett’s door.

  Nathan’s foot went out to block the door from closing as his hand reached for me. His cologne making my eyes water, he twirled one of my curls around his finger. “Did he fuck that sweet ass of yours too?”

  “Get out of here,” I whisper hissed.

  Leaning forward, his slim-fitted pants showing all of his assets, his dress shirt perfectly pressed, he kissed my cheek and whispered, “Nobody fucks you as good as I do. Did you forget that?” He stood to his full height, and his gaze cut to my stomach. For a second, his expression turned to something I’d never seen, but then just as quick, his mask of superiority slid back into place and he winked. “But I hope you enjoyed it.”

  “Leave,” I warned in a whisper as panic at his newfound attitude crawled up my throat.

  He pulled on my hair and smiled. “No can do, Brookey. Playtime’s over. You’ve got work to do. The runs don’t happen by themselves.”

  “No.” I said the word, but we both knew he had me trapped.

  “Always such a handful.” He cupped my breast. The breast Garret had had his mouth on merely hours ago.

  I flinched.

  “Well, almost a handful.” Nathan smiled like Adonis, but he was all Ares.

  “I told you I’m not doing this anymore.” Fuck the consequences.

  “Yes you are.”

  No, I wasn’t. “How did you find me?”

  He laughed, but then he couldn’t stop himself. He bragged. “You think I don’t have people following you? You think I wasn’t casing the dump where you decided to wash bar towels for weeks? You think I’d pass up a chance to use a cash business like that?” He smirked. “I have to hand it to you, Brookey, you always were a natural at finding me opportunities.”

  “Fuck you,” I seethed.

  Ignoring me, Nathan looked over my shoulder. “Grab his keys, love.”

  I stood firm. “I said no.”

  His blue-eyed gaze instantly turned to a glare as it cut back to me. “Should I wake your soldier up?”

  Marine, I mentally corrected, simultaneously terrified and wondering how the hell he knew what Garrett was. “Don’t you dare wake him.”

  Fast, like a rabbit, he stepped up to me and took my chin in a punishing grip. “Maybe I need to remind you who you belong too.”

  I wanted to put my hands on his throat and choke the air from his lungs. “Do it,” I stupidly challenged. I’d bite his fucking tongue off. Or his dick. Whatever he tried to shove in me. “See what happens.”

  Without warning, Nathan, no, X, pressed his mouth over mine and forced his tongue in. The sickeningly familiar taste of mint and cigarettes and horrible decisions washed over me. Conditioned, knowing his game, knowing I would never let him get any closer to Garrett than he already was, I did what I had to do.

  I let the devil kiss me.

  I JERKED AWAKE AND REACHED for a rifle that wasn’t there. Shaking my head, disoriented for a split second, I heard the shower and it all came rushing back.

  A smile spread across my face.

  Then I noticed the predawn light coming through the blinds and my gaze cut to the bedroom clock.

  Four hours.

  I’d been out for four hours and she was still in the shower?

  Alarm hit my gut and I was on my feet, pulling on jeans in half a second.

  Water running. Empty bathroom.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  I knew what’d happened before I turned the water off, but I still couldn’t fucking believe it. I strode into the living room, looking for her bike anyway.

  Right where I left it, the rusted piece of shit leaned against the wall in the front hall.

  Idiotic hope surged. “Brookelyn?”

  Silence.

  I glanced out at the empty balcony, then my gaze cut back to the floor by her bike.

  No backpack.

  I checked the two other bedrooms just in case, but she wasn’t there. Standing in the entryway, my hands went to my hips, and that’s when I noticed it.

  My keys weren’t on the entryway table next to my cell where I’d left them.

  My hands automatically patted my pockets.

  Motherfucking fucker.

  Striding back to my bedroom, I threw on a T-shirt and stepped into my boots before walking back to the front hall and grabbing my cell. The whole fucking time I told myself I was overreacting, that she’d run out to grab coffee or some shit. That she was downstairs at the restaurant getting an early breakfast.

  Leaving my front door unlocked, I hit the elevator call button and made up about a hundred other fucking excuses, but I knew.

  I fucking knew.

  The elevator opened on the parking ga
rage level and I saw it immediately. My spot was empty.

  God-fucking-damn it.

  I called Luna.

  He answered on the fourth ring. “Little early, bro. What’s up?”

  “The chick from Dax’s. Brookelyn.”

  “You mean the fake-name chica. Why do I get the feeling this conversation isn’t gonna end well?”

  Because it wasn’t. Not for me. “I brought her home last night, and—”

  “Jesucristo, Collins,” Luna swore. “The Marines don’t give you enough shit to fuck with?”

  Apparently not. “Woke up this morning, and she and my truck are gone.”

  Pause, then, “What do you mean, gone?”

  I rubbed a hand over my head. “I fell asleep, she was beside me. I woke up, she and my keys and truck are gone.”

  “Mierda, bro.” I heard some shuffling. “I’m calling the cops, and I’m on my way.”

  “No,” I snapped, before reining it the fuck in. “No cops. Can you access the security feeds for my building? Maybe see which direction she went?” What time she left. What she looked like when she did? Was she running scared? Was she a fucking scam artist from the get-go? Fuck, I didn’t know what the hell I was looking for, but I just fucking wanted to see her face again.

  Luna exhaled. “Seeing which direction she went isn’t gonna help find your ride, amigo.”

  Fuck. “I know.” Fuck. “I just… I ship out in a couple hours. I don’t have time to deal with this fucking shit!”

  Luna was silent a beat.

  “You there?” I snapped.

  “Brother,” he placated, “you only got three more months.”

  “I know how much fucking time I have!”

  Luna’s tone turned shrink calm. “You already got a life waiting for you. I’m waiting for you. Christensen and Talerco are out. You got a job lined up. I know what you’re thinking. We’ve all been there.” His voice quieted. “But you don’t need her, man. Call the cops, report the vehicle stolen, then let it go. You don’t need this clouding your head downrange.”

  My chest tight, my fucking jaw clenched, I started to sink. “I never said I needed her. Jesus fucking Christ, I fucked her. I didn’t marry her.”

  Luna ignored my clipped tone. “Nothing wrong with wanting a warm chica to come home to, mi amigo. I get it. Trust me, I get it. But it’s not gonna be this chica.”

 

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