Текст книги "Collateral Damage"

Автор книги: Kaylea Cross

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Liam,” she cried, her whole body tightening as he finally let her move in those last few seconds before release. Her fingers slicked over her swollen clit in tight circles. She rode him in a hard, desperate rhythm, poised to fly. The sudden lash of pleasure took her breath away; only a whimper escaped as she clamped down on him in a rhythmic series of contractions, release exploding inside her.

Liam stiffened beneath her. All those beautiful muscles went rigid, his face a mask of sensual agony as he moaned her name and followed her over the edge.

Breathing hard, suddenly feeling weak all over, Honor set her hands on his shoulders and sank down on top of him. With her face resting in the crook of his neck she breathed in the salty, spicy scent of his skin and sighed.

His arms came around her, gliding gently up and down her back. He nuzzled her temple, his lips skimming the top of her cheek. “I don’t know if I can move.”

“Me either,” she murmured, content to stay where she was even though her banged-up knees were killing her and her thigh muscles were suddenly hating this position.

Groaning, Liam wrapped his arms around her and sat up, taking her upper body with him. “Can you hold onto me long enough for me to get us upstairs?”

She smiled against his neck, knowing he still had plenty of strength enough to carry her without her holding on. “Yeah,” she whispered, tucking closer, winding her arms around his sturdy neck.

He pushed to his feet, both arms holding her securely around the waist while she locked her ankles at the small of his back. He turned and started up the stairs, the sudden wetness between her legs reminding her that they hadn’t used a condom. She was on the shot, so she didn’t care and she loved that there was nothing between them this time.

Half-asleep by the time he reached her bedroom, she protested when he turned toward the master bathroom. “You don’t want a shower?”

“Later,” she mumbled, snuggling closer.

With a chuckle Liam strode for her bed and set her beneath the sheets. As soon as he climbed in beside her she rolled back on top of him, her thighs bracketing his and her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. She hummed in contentment when he pulled the covers over them and began gliding that soothing hand up and down her back once more.

“Love you,” she whispered, eternally grateful for the chance to tell him in person, and for the gift of lying here in his arms.

“Love you back, sweet pea.”

She smiled at the endearment. After a few minutes ugly memories began to surface, but she squashed them. There’d be plenty of time for her to replay last night’s events, and worry about what she was going to say when she saw Smithers in the hospital tomorrow. Right now she was exhausted and only wanted to bask in the feel of Liam’s naked body beneath her, let the steady throb of his heartbeat beneath her cheek lull her.

“You tell me if you need anything, okay? Even if you just want to talk. I’m here,” he murmured against the top of her head.

Honor nodded sleepily and kissed the side of his neck. “Just don’t let go.”

He was still a moment, then his big arms curved around her and held her tight. “Never again, sweet pea. I promise.”

Cocooned in the safety and love he gave her, Honor allowed herself to drift off.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Liam finished cooking the last of the pancakes and poured him and Honor each a mug of freshly brewed coffee. His stomach grumbled but he was going to wait to eat with her. They’d slept in late, until almost ten, then he’d climbed in the shower with her and there was no way he could’ve been expected to keep his hands off all that smooth, wet skin.

He’d kissed each and every bruise and abrasion on her body, then used his hands, mouth and the showerhead to drive her to the edge of orgasm twice before finally pinning her to the fiberglass wall. He’d captured her mouth with his just as he pushed inside her, drinking in the broken cries she made while the water pounded over his back and her short fingernails dug into his shoulders.

Since he’d interrupted her shower, he was letting her finish alone so he could surprise her with breakfast. The hot water would be good for her sore muscles and bruises. After they ate, they were having a talk. Beginning at noon they had more interviews scheduled with Army officials and government agencies and before they set foot back on base he needed to know exactly where they stood with their relationship. Not that he had doubts after how she’d professed her feelings last night; he just wanted it spelled out that they were together again, this time for the long haul.

He loaded up a tray with their coffees, pancakes, butter and syrup, then headed for the stairs. His foot had just touched the bottom step when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he set the tray on the floor and strode to the door. When he checked through the peephole, his stomach automatically contracted into a ball of dread.

Setting his jaw, he unlocked the door and swung it open, setting one hand against the jamb to make it clear to the unexpected visitors that they weren’t getting past him without permission.

Charity and her mother stood on the top step. Charity’s eyes, a little greener than Honor’s, widened when she saw him standing there shirtless. Beside her, her mother blinked, seeming stunned to find him there.

“Morning,” Liam said, not budging but willing to be pleasant as long as they remembered to do the same. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” He used the we deliberately, wanting to make his claim on Honor clear.

“We heard about the attack,” Charity said, her eyes studiously remaining on his face as if she was either too embarrassed or too afraid to look at his bare chest. “It’s all over the news, about the President dying. They said there were drones attacking the base and people shooting soldiers and civilians. I wanted to make sure Honor’s okay.”

“You could’ve called and asked her.”

“I called six times and left voicemails, but she wouldn’t pick up and didn’t return any of my messages.”

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen her pull out her phone since leaving the base. “She might not have checked her phone yet today. We got home late, so she was tired. She’s just in the shower now.” He said it without apology, didn’t give a fuck if it offended them that he’d stayed the night in her bed. No power on earth could have moved him from her side last night.

“But she’s okay?” Mrs. Girard asked, and Liam could hear the worry in her voice.

“She’s okay. Had a few close calls and lost one of her soldiers last night though.”

Charity pressed her lips together, her eyes filling with tears. “Can we… Can we see her?”

Normally the tears wouldn’t have worked on him because he knew just how manipulative she could be, but even he could tell she was genuinely upset about her sister almost dying. “That’s not up to me. You can wait here while I check with—”

“It’s okay, Liam. Let them in.”

Liam turned his head to find Honor standing on the fourth stair from the bottom. Her hair was damp and she was dressed in a fresh uniform, her expression calm. That mix of strength and serenity in the face of everything she’d gone through made him want to scoop her up in his arms and take her back upstairs, spend hours showing her just how much he adored and cherished her.

“You sure?” One word from her and he’d happily slam the door in the women’s faces.

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

Liam dropped his arm as she descended the rest of the stairs. He met her partway, sliding his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You want me to stay?” he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

“Yes.” She took his hand in hers and wrapped an arm around his waist in a gesture that clearly screamed he’s mine. Hiding a smile, gratified by her show of possessiveness in front of their audience, Liam turned with her to face her family.

****

Honor refused to feel nervous as she led her mother and sister into the living room. This was her house, her damn life, and her man. No one was going to intimidate her or make her question her decisions again, least of all them.

Liam sat beside her on the couch and she not only kept hold of his hand, but pulled it into her lap and slid over toward him until her hip was pressed against his. Her mother and sister both glanced at their twined hands but didn’t comment and Honor felt like raising a defiant eyebrow. They’d shown up out of the blue without an invitation and as far as she was concerned, their opinion about her and Liam didn’t matter.

“So, you came because of the attack?” she asked, not seeing the point in dancing around the subject. Their presence made her father’s absence all the more conspicuous. And painful. Honor refused to show it. Apparently writing someone off didn’t mean they no longer had the power to hurt you.

Charity nodded, casting an uncertain glance at Liam before looking back at her. “Honor, I really need to say some things to you. Can we please do this in private?”

“Nope. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of Liam too. And if you don’t like it, you can leave.” Charity frowned in alarm and out of the corner of her eye she saw Liam’s lips twitch. He leaned back and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. The possessive, protective gesture filled her with warmth and strength.

Even though she’d cut her ties with her family, this was still hard. The cold distance that lay between them hurt and Liam seemed to understand that. She was so damn thankful he was here, especially now of all times. Her mother and sister’s visit would have been a hundred times harder without him.

“No, it’s okay, it’s fine,” her mother interrupted, causing Honor to cast her a surprised look. “We were waiting for a good time to come and see you after you got back into town, but after last night we realized we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Honor, I miss you,” Charity said, her voice rough and her eyes damp with tears. “You’re the only sister I have and I want you back in my life.”

To her annoyance, tears burned her own eyes. “You know why I can’t do that.”

Her mother threw a helpless glance at Charity, who bit her lip and fidgeted with her hands. “Yes, I know why,” her sister said. “And I know why you won’t believe it when I tell you, but I have changed.” Her eyes moved to Liam, who sat unmoving, a silent, steadying rock for her to brace herself against. God, she loved him.

“How’ve you changed?” Honor demanded.

“I’m not the same person I was. I mean, I still have my issues, but I’m working on them. I uh… I understand now that my attachment to Liam wasn’t healthy. And neither was my reaction when I found out about you two. Obviously,” she admitted under her breath, darting a glance at him before focusing on Honor once more. “And I know I did it to get back at you because I was jealous and hurt and embarrassed. I was an immature, manipulative bitch—” Charity shot her mother an annoyed look when she gasped at the curse word—“and all I cared about was me. I was sad all the time and angry and always felt like I had to compete with you, so when you and Liam got together after he’d broken up with me, I lashed out.”

Honor opened her mouth to argue but Charity held up a hand. “Wait. Just hear me out.” She shifted, licked her lips and Honor could tell none of this was easy for her to admit, especially in front of Liam. “I’m sorry, Honor. So very sorry for everything I’ve done that hurt you.” Her gaze shifted to Liam. “And you.”

Liam squeezed Honor’s shoulder and answered with a nod. “Thank you.”

Charity gave him a little smile, her cheeks flushing. Then her gaze shifted to Honor. “I know I can’t expect things to go back to the way they were before, but I’m here to tell you I want to have a relationship with you, in whatever capacity you’re willing to allow. You’re my sister and I love you. Please don’t keep punishing me for the mistakes I made in the past.”

Wow. Talk about a sucker punch to the gut. She and Liam had done that very thing to one another. How could she claim to have learned her lesson if she kept doing the same thing to Charity?

Honor drew in a shaky breath and wiped at her eyes. “I love you too, but the rest? I don’t know. I don’t know, okay? Too much has happened and…” She trailed off and focused on her mother with a hard look. “And what about you?”

Now her mother flushed. “I’m…sorry too.”

Honor raised a brow, unconvinced. “For?”

She took a deep breath. “For lots of things. Namely standing by instead of standing up for or beside you.”

Both Honor’s eyebrows shot up now.

Her mother nodded. “I’m not proud of it, Honor, of being a doormat for so many years. I started going to therapy soon after Charity got out of the hospital and it’s allowed me to see things in perspective.” She sighed, paused a moment to gather her thoughts. “Your father is a bully, pure and simple, and he uses religion to excuse his behavior.”

Honor’s mouth fell open a little. “You…” She couldn’t even find the words. The world must be coming to an end, because there was no other way Jolene Girard would ever utter such a thing about her husband.

Raising her chin, her mother nodded once. “That’s right, I finally realized I don’t have to live life as a doormat. So I left him.”

“What?” She couldn’t have heard that right.

“A little over five months ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wasn’t sure you would care.” Her mother teared up now, began digging in her purse. Coming up with a tissue, she began dabbing at her eyes. “I still miss him sometimes, but I know it’s for the best. I understand now that he’s never going to change and I’m not willing to go back and live that way. I deserve more. I deserve to be happy.” She shot Honor a wobbly smile. “We all do,” she finished with a nod at her and Liam. “The thing I regret most is the divide I let my marriage cause between me and my children.”

“But it’s been awesome to see him try and grovel his way back into her good graces,” Charity added with a mischievous grin.

Honor looked up at Liam in astonishment and saw the same shock written on his face. “I don’t know what to say. Other than I’m sorry and I’m proud of you.”

Her mother’s face transformed with a watery smile. “I’m proud of me too.”

“Well,” Charity said, lightly slapping her hands on her knees as though she’d come to a decision. “We won’t overstay our welcome and you guys are probably going through a lot so we don’t want to keep you. I’m just glad you’re both okay.” She stood, her mother following suit. Then Charity paused, staring at her with haunted eyes. “Can I hug you at least?”

The words pierced Honor with a blade so sharp she didn’t even feel it go in until the damage was done. Unable to speak because she knew she’d just start bawling, Honor nodded and stood to reach for her sister. They were both crying now, and then their mother, too, all hugging and laughing through the tears at how ridiculous they were.

After pulling away Honor wiped her cheeks, feeling like a two-ton weight had just been lifted off her shoulders. “We’ll just take it slow, okay? No promises, no expectations. It’s the best I can do right now.”

Charity nodded. “Whatever you want, I’m here for you.” At the door she paused, glancing from her to Liam and back. A genuine smile spread across her face. “You two really were made for each other. God, it used to drive me insane knowing that, even back before you guys got together.”

Honor barely concealed her surprise. “I didn’t realize you knew anything was up. And I didn’t go out with him to hurt you. I was already half in love with him when he asked me out and deep down inside I somehow knew he was the one. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love Liam.” She was glad he was hearing this firsthand, proving that she meant what she’d told him. He came first in her life, even before her family.

Her sister’s smile softened, her eyes warm. “I know.”

When they left Honor shut and locked the door, then turned to face Liam. “I don’t even know what just happened,” she said with a small laugh.

“I think it’s called really good anti-psychotic drugs and a sudden development of a couple sets of balls, sweet pea,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms.

Chuckling, Honor slipped hers around his waist and hugged him. “Do you know how much I love you right now?”

“How much?”

She grinned at his teasing tone and hugged him harder. “So much I’m never gonna let you go.”

His face turned serious and he cupped her chin in one hand. “You mean that?”

She opened her mouth to say of course I do, but the intent, almost starved look in his eyes sobered her. “Liam, yes.” How could he not know after she’d told him she loved him and the way she’d charged at Andrews when she’d thought he’d shot Liam? Taking his stubble-roughened cheeks in her hands, she smiled up at him. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life. You’re mine.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he whisked her up in his arms and stalked toward the stairs. “Where are we going—hey, what about breakfast,” she protested when he stepped over the tray at the foot of the stairs.

He reached one hand down and snagged the maple syrup on the way by. “I’m gonna serve it to you in bed.” He shot her a wicked grin that sent heat spearing through her. “Right after I lick off all the syrup I’m about to pour on your naked body.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hidden in the shadows provided by the slight outcropping of rock above him, Safir kept his eyes on the sky as the others said their evening prayers. Five of his last, most loyal men. Though there was only one he trusted with his life.

Qasim had chosen this location because he said it was the safest for now. Safir hated being exposed this much, worried that the others would somehow give his presence away if there were any drones or satellites patrolling the area.

You’re being overly paranoid, he scolded himself, but drew his blanket tighter around himself anyway, using the top portion to cover the lower half of his face. It was already getting cold in the evenings here in the mountains. He didn’t relish the idea of facing a long winter out here.

He could hear Qasim’s voice as he prayed, thanking Allah for the grand victory yesterday in the United States. The death toll was fairly small compared to what Safir had been hoping, but it didn’t matter because the President was dead. The devastating psychological blow he’d delivered… That had been extremely rewarding. The entire country—the whole world—was reeling in the wake of the attack he’d orchestrated.

And now the entire world was hunting him. Intelligence agencies had traced the origins of the attack back to him, as he’d known they would.

He glanced back at the cave entrance, thinking of the underground bunker he’d be sleeping in again tonight. Above ground it was cool, but down there was cold as a tomb.

A wave of unease swept through him at the last word. Why did it feel like he was being watched even now, hidden out here in the middle of nowhere? The stars shone like brilliant pinpricks of light through a black velvet curtain. Only a gentle wind stirred the air. There was no sound but Qasim’s and the others’ voices as they finished praying.

Safir added his own silent prayer to the heavens. Allah protect me.

His life as he’d known it was over now. A necessary sacrifice, and one he’d known would have to be made in order to carry out such a devastating attack. As of yesterday he’d begun the life of a nomad. He could never stay put for more than twelve hours again. Soon he’d cull the number of his followers to ensure no one but Qasim would know his location. The victory was huge, but bittersweet, and carried a heavy price.

“Safir?”

“Here,” he called out to Qasim.

His friend smiled when he drew close, his teeth gleaming in the light of the half moon. All the men were forbidden to light a fire or use a flashlight. No electronics or any light source that might alert an outsider to his presence. “Why so glum?” he asked in English, wrapping his arm around Safir’s shoulders. “You just pulled off the greatest attack against the U.S. since 9/11.”

Safir grunted and scanned the distant horizon, the jagged mountain peaks outlined by the moonlight. Beautiful. And deadly. “Just tired.” He’d only slept in snatches for the past week. Would probably never get a full night’s rest again.

“Well you’ll sleep well tonight. Come on. We’ll have tea inside where you can relax.”

Safir eyed the other four men as they all passed by him on their way into the cave. They’d sleep in the upper chamber and act as both sentries and guards while he and Qasim would stay below. “I’d prefer to have it in the bunker,” he said, casting one last wary look at the empty night sky. He felt like a miner must before a shift, drinking in the sight of the vast sky above him before he descended to the darkness below.

Underground was the only safe place for him now.

****

Poised on the slope of a barren hillside, Staff Sergeant Ryan Wentworth lay beneath the cover of sun-withered bushes, staring at the small screen in his hands. His gloved thumbs manipulated the twin toggles, directing the small drone to turn in a tight circle over the suspected target area.

On screen the heat signatures showed a group of six men standing near a cave entrance. Two stood off to the side, away from the others, who waited until the group had passed by before entering the cave. Ryan zoomed in close and took another snapshot of them both just before they disappeared inside, getting as high resolution a shot as he could of them before sending it back to HQ.

Ryan knew in his gut that one of them had to be Safir. He would consider it a personal honor to help blow the fucker to hell for what he’d done last night.

“It’s like playing X-Box,” the Ranger captain whispered beside him with a grin.

“Nah, man, way cooler than X-Box,” Ryan added, waiting for command to reply to his message. He and the captain waited in the darkness while the rest of the platoon spread out around them in a protective circle. Nothing moved on the hillside, the cool night breeze barely stirring the air.

The response came less than fifteen minutes later over Ryan’s headset. “Target confirmed.”

Fuck, yeah. “Roger that.” His heart thudded in anticipation as he got on his radio and contacted the pilot for this op. As he spoke he could feel the Ranger captain watching him, an almost palpable current of excitement coming from him.

Using his laser designator rangefinder set up on a short tripod in front of him, Ryan helped mark the target location and verified the coordinates with the pilot. A new feed was patched through to his device. On screen he watched the bird’s eye view of the ground from the new drone overhead. Launched from a FOB less than twenty miles from here, it took only a matter of minutes to arrive on station.

“Affirmative, target coordinates confirmed,” Ryan murmured through his mic to the pilot sitting back at his station somewhere stateside. An American soldier about to deliver some serious payback to the asshole who’d killed their president and attacked JBLM. It was rumored that Safir was terrified of the possibility of dying by drone strike. Sheer, poetic fucking justice that one was about to end him now. “Green light to engage target in three, two, one.”

Ryan’s gaze remained riveted to the small screen in his hands as it showed a missile streaking away from the drone. Setting the device down, he peered through his rangefinder at the cave location on the bottom of the far mountain ridge across the valley.

Three seconds passed, then a distant boom shook the air. A bright orange fireball erupted into the night sky. “Good hit,” Ryan told the pilot. “Stand by for confirmation.”

Using his remote control device he accessed the feed to the smaller drone he’d carried here in his ruck. He flew it over top of the target and used the powerful camera to zoom in on the destruction. A large chunk of the mountainside was missing, blown away by the missile. Amidst the piles of debris, he started counting the heat signatures lying in the rubble.

Three scattered in one grouping. None of them moving.

A fourth trying to drag himself away, but he collapsed after only a few feet.

A fifth lay in two pieces at the base of a large boulder.

And a sixth lay twitching in the dirt at the bottom of the hill.

Ryan zoomed in on all of them. Using the device’s night vision equipment, he took pictures to send back to HQ for identification. But when he saw the face of the sixth target up close, the wide open, sightless eyes, he already knew.

Triumph roared through him. Smiling in satisfaction, he muttered, “See ya in hell, motherfucker.”