Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"
Автор книги: Megan Isaacs
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
Discreetly, I fumble with the binds on my wrists, each pull and twist having the desired effect of loosening the rope. “I’m not your son. Just cut to the fucking chase. What do you want from me?” As I speak, Lizzie’s head lifts a fraction. All I’ve said to her and my voice still gives her… hope? I’m not sure.
“Well, Alberto wanted a little revenge for the son you took from him.” As Archie speaks, Bear moves closer to him. Adrenaline pumps through my muscles at his proximity. “I was happy to hand you over once I located you. But when I found out who you were, my plans changed.”
“Lucky fucking me.”
“Oh, you are lucky, Noah. You see, when you were just meat, you were expendable. Being my son changed things.” Bitterness rises in my throat as I stare the bastard down, but I say nothing.
My wrists break free of the binds and I sense Zan move closer in behind me. I take a breath and hold it a fraction, waiting, but he does nothing. Bear glances over and a look of recognition passes over his face as he meets his cousin’s eye. Again I’m left wondering.
Archie bends forward so I can smell his stale breath. “You were the best in the squad, Noah. Why did you get caught?”
My gaze flicks to Lizzie. A response I can’t help. I take a breath and realise I have nothing to lose. Bear knows everything, so the chances are every man here does too. The only person who I know for sure doesn’t is her.
“I didn’t think I had anything left to live for.”
“What could make a man have nothing left to live for? Especially one like you. The only thing that can do that is if you lost everything, but you had nothing in the first place.” Archie gets up and crouches to the side of Lizzie. He touches her face with his thick fingers, and she flinches, a small whimper escaping her lips. “Or did you?” It takes a strength I didn’t know I had to remain in my seat.
“I lost everything I ever wanted. Or rather it was taken from me.”
“So you chose to be tortured to death?” He sounds surprised.
I heave a sigh. “Yeah.” This is worse than the fucking debrief. All my demons lay bare.
He stands up, moving away from Lizzie, and my chest releases a fraction. “Hmm. Barry, Daniel, untie the bitch for me.”
They move quickly, untying Lizzie. What should be something to celebrate causes nothing but further concern. The last item to come off is the blindfold. Her wild gaze flickers around the room until it finds mine, and the storm in her eyes settles. She holds my stare as if it’s my hands. Never letting go for a second. If this is all I can give her, she’s having it. All pretence is gone.
“So, let me get this straight. Because of this bitch screwing you over, you decided to commit suicide?”
Lizzie’s questioning gaze never leaves mine. It takes massive effort to maintain eye contact with her and not look away. I don’t want her to see into my soul and witness the pain buried there. “For fuck’s sake, where is this going?”
“I’m getting there. So, she means more to you than just shooting your load into her?”
I refrain from answering him. Lizzie breaks her hold on me and glances to the floor. She’s either disgusted with me or angry; I’m not sure which.
“Okay, so now we have a plan.” He claps his hands together and begins to whistle. I ease the gun from the back of my jeans and rest it on the seat behind me.
“I’ll release her on this condition. I need to hand you over to Alberto. But, then you need to take him down.”
“Why?” It’s the only answer I want. Why would he go to all the trouble of bringing me back in, using Lizzie as bait? Why would Bear turn his back on years of brotherhood to betray me?
“Because when you’ve killed him I’m going to take over his empire. I’ve been using the Dogs to run most of his rings anyway, so this just means I’ll get to reap all the proceeds instead of just being fed peanuts.”
“What if I die? Then you’d get nothing.”
“But you won’t, will you? Because if you do, I’ll take your little family and I’ll make them suffer painfully, and very slowly, for your incompetence.”
Blood boils under my skin. I grip the gun behind me, lunge forward, and draw my weapon, but Lizzie’s on her feet and in my line of fucking fire. She grasps her chair and swings it full force into Archie’s head. The impact knocks him off his chair. Men surge forward. Shots ring out. Years of ingrained training takes over. I home in on the first shooter on an elevated walkway and take him down, firing three shots.
“Get fucking down,” I yell, and hope she hears me. Gunfire surrounds us. Quickly chambering my weapon, I take down a second bastard, his sight set on Lizzie. Moving towards her, I catch a glimpse of Bear as he disposes another of the men.
Everything stops. Time. Sound. Heat.
Lizzie stands motionless in the middle of the massacre. Fire burns across my thigh as I grasp hold of her arm and turn her to me. A slight smile forms on her lips but the fight fades from her eyes. Zan yells, “Get her the fuck out of here,” but my feet won’t move. All I can see is the red, sticky fluid, which oozes through my fingers and over the back of my hand.
LIZZIE’S LEGS GIVE way, and she falls into my arms. I’m helpless. All around men fight and fall, gunshots ring out, voices, then silence, and more gunfire. It all happens so quickly, in seconds, which seem like hours. I’ve been in worse situations than this and never faltered. But with her dead weight in my arms, I’m at a loss.
A sharp heat across my arm wakes me from my daze. We’re in the middle of a war zone, and I’ve got us standing like a fucking ‘aim here’ beacon. I lay Lizzie gently to the ground, put down my weapon, and rip off my shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet. I pray the excessive blood doesn’t mean her artery’s been nicked. She could bleed to death in minutes, and as much as I need to get her out of here, this wound needs dealing with now.
One hand works fast to stem the blood flow pressing up under her armpit, the other pushes down firmly on her skin, and blood oozes between my fingers. From what little experience I have of field wounds, her bone doesn’t feel broken, and it all looks normal, with no disfigurement. It could still be fractured, but I don’t have the time or anything to splint it. I rip my T-shirt with my teeth, thankful for the old material giving way easily. I hope it doesn't do more damage. One-handed, I wrap the fabric twice around her upper arm until it’s tight enough, and that stems the flow.
Muffled gunfire continues around us, drowned out by the roar of blood in my ears.
I remove the hand under her arm and tighten the fabric a fraction more before securing it with a knot. Her arm should be elevated above her heart, but other than resting it on her chest I can’t do much else. Satisfied, I begin to lift her into my arms, but something drags hard on my ankle.
I turn my head to see a half-conscious Archie. Blood spews from a wound on his forehead. He flails an arm, searching the ground for his gun. I let go of Lizzie, pick up my own, and chamber a round. My ankle twists in his grasp when I turn around and aim the Glock.
Sperm donor or not, the creature at my feet will not survive to hurt my family more.
He lets go of my leg when his hand grasps his own metal. He cocks and glances back at me, blood dripping into the wicked smile on his face. It fades as he stares down the barrel of the gun in my hands and up my extended arms. “You’re going to shoot me?” He starts to laugh, a mocking laugh of disbelief; harsh, cold, and full of hatred.
In slow motion, he swings his arm up, gun in hand. Every inch it moves takes a century off of my life. I kick out my free leg and my foot connects, hard, with his face. The crunch of his nose breaking under my boot echoes up my leg and his head jerks backwards.
My fingertip caresses the trigger. Not too hard, not too light. I breathe in deep, and as the air exhales, I squeeze, taking up the pressure. Archie’s laugh dies on his lips when a bullet rips through his skull, and he falls dead at my feet. My index finger freezes mid pull. What the fuck?
I glance around to find Jase advancing on me. I quickly aim up at him. He throws his weapon to the ground and lifts his hands into the air. There are no sounds, only silence and the lingering smell of gunfire laced with the metallic tang of blood. My chest heaves and my frantic gaze roams the hangar. The only men left standing are Bear’s.
“You’d never live with that, Noah.” Jase’s voice pulls me back in his direction. “I know we’ve dealt with some shit—” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t let you do that.” His gaze drops to the floor and back to me. “Mate, you need to get her out of here.”
The urgency registers and I let the gun fall from my fingers. Without giving the body on the floor a second thought, I get to my feet, lifting Lizzie into my arms at the same time. “Where?”
Bear’s voice invades my ears. “On base. They’ll be expecting you.” I go to walk away from him, but he starts again. “Noah?”
Every aching muscle in my body tenses. “Not fucking now.” I shut him down, not wanting to hear his explanation. I don’t give a flying fuck. I gaze down at Lizzie. Nothing was worth this. Nothing.
Zander comes towards me, but my glare stops him from coming closer. They are the last two people on earth I want to deal with right now. Both betrayed me.
I keep my gaze fixed on Bear and Zan. “Jase, can you drive?”
“Just about. You did a great job on my hand, you bastard.” He laughs as he walks past them and beckons me to follow him. “Good thing I’m ambidextrous.”
When we get to the truck, I lay Lizzie down on the backseat. I scramble in beside her then rest her head on my lap. Jase rummages through a bag on the front passenger seat and throws a green army-issued T-shirt at me with his good hand. “Don’t you feel the cold?”
Every part of my body is numb. The only part of me feeling any sign of life is my heart. And that hurts like a bastard. I glance down at the lifeless body in my arms and cold seeps into every one of my veins. Any words I have freeze, barb-like in my throat. I can’t answer him. Instead I pull on the shirt, careful not to knock Lizzie, and he starts up the truck and pulls away.
I take in every little detail of my angel. Each bruise, each cut, each injury caused by me. Because of my life. My blood-stained fingers trace gently over her skin. She never deserved any of this, and I wonder how it will affect her in the long term. Because she will have a long term.
My fingers move from her face and down her neck to check her pulse. It’s low and slow, but it’s there. My girl’s a fighter; she’s strong. She will survive this. Survive me.
Angry with myself, I turn on Jase. “Can’t you drive any fucking faster?”
He doesn’t bite back, just nods and says, “I’m doing the best I can.”
After an eternity, the familiar row of evergreen trees behind security fencing comes into view. Jase turns towards the main gate. Armed guards greet the truck. One walks over to the side of the vehicle. Instead of being made to wind down the window, state our business and have our credentials checked, he takes one glance at Jase, steps back, and signals for the gates to open.
We pull up outside the med centre, and I get Lizzie out as quickly as possible. When we enter the building, medics scramble, asking about her injuries but not how she sustained them. Bringing her here, they won’t ask. They can guess. After a few basic questions, she’s taken from my arms and rushed into evaluation. Nurses keep trying to get me looked at, to glance over the wounds to my temple, arm, and leg. But a few flesh wounds are nothing. All I care about is Lizzie. I need to hear she’s okay.
One by one, the lads turn up to be checked over, and take seats near me in the waiting area. Even Bear and Zander arrive, but they sit further away, and have the fucking decency not to try and talk to me. There are only a few flesh wounds between them. The only man hit bad enough to require surgery is Danny. He took a bullet to the thigh, and luckily it missed the artery but still shattered the bone. That fucker had to hurt. It means he’ll be out of action and maybe desked when he recovers. His area is communications anyway, so it shouldn’t be too much of a blow. The thought crosses my mind there’s a lot more to Bear’s team than meets the eye.
The clock ticks on the wall; I count every movement the second hand makes. We’ve already heard about Danny, but nothing on Lizzie. My mind’s at war with my body. I’m exhausted. The physical and mental strain of the past day finally catches up with me. Jase keeps plying me with strong black coffee and caffeine-infused sodas. My insides vibrate, and I’m getting irritable. After sitting here for 8,013 seconds, a surgeon finally makes her entrance.
She scans the room. All the lads sit bolt upright and in unison acknowledge her with ‘ma’am.’ I remain silent but lean forward, desperate for some news and wait for her to say something. My heart beats wildly, and the urge to throw up almost overcomes me. Her gaze settles. The frantic beat in my chest stops and holds its breath along with me.
“Noah?”
“Yes.” My hands clench and unclench in my lap.
“Lizzie asked for you before we operated. I hope you understand we had no time for you to see her beforehand.”
I dip my head in acknowledgement. Relief surges through me. Lizzie woke up enough to speak to them. “Is she okay?”
“She’s been lucky. The bullet grazed her brachial, she lost a lot of blood but thankfully it missed her humerus.” Thank God I was right. “There may be a little nerve damage. We won’t be sure until the swelling goes down. All in all, it was a clean entrance and exit. So I’m going to risk it and say the chances of anything permanent are slim, but still possible.”
“Can I see her?”
“She’s still in recovery and won’t be able to talk to you.” As she speaks, she shakes her head.
“Please, ma’am. I just need to see her.”
She sighs. “Five minutes.”
I nod at her. I’d agree to be a surrogate mum to a donkey if it meant I’d get to see Lizzie.
“Okay, follow me.” She turns to walk away.
We walk through a couple of doors, and I follow where she leads. We pass several rooms, and I glance in one and see Danny. “How’s he doing?”
“Not bad, considering. He’s got a long road ahead of him though. His thigh muscles and nerves were torn up pretty bad. Apparently it was a mess.” She stops walking outside another room. “I’m told he should recover pretty well, and with visits to a physiotherapist he should be back on his feet in three to four months.”
“Fuck.” I rub my hand over my head.
“You guys know what you’re doing and you know the risks when you go on ops. It never makes it any easier when it finally catches up with you though.” She gives me a half smile. “Anyway, here we are.”
“How long will Lizzie’s recovery take?”
“Hmm. So long as there’s no nerve damage, anywhere from a couple of weeks to a month. Obviously the scar will be tender for a while, but she’ll be throwing punches again in no time.”
“Ma’am?” I can’t bring myself to look her in the eye to say what I need to say, so I keep my eyes locked on the floor. Hatred for myself wells in the pit of my stomach.
“If you’re going to ask about sex, she’ll be okay as soon as she feels ready.”
My gaze whips up to her face. For once in my life, that is not where my thoughts are going. “Thanks.” I manage a small chuckle even though on the inside my heart’s withering away. “But what I was going to say was, thank you… you know, for fixing Lizzie.”
Her hand reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Sorry, I’m just so used to you lads being concerned with your own vital organs. And you’re welcome. Remember, five minutes, okay?” Then she heads off down the corridor.
Pausing at the entrance I’m unable to make my feet move forward. Desperation to see her mixed with anxiety leave me frozen in place. My hand shakes when I grow big enough balls to push the door open. I step inside, quietly close it behind me, then lean back against it, letting out a deep breath.
My gaze rakes over Lizzie. Her body looks so tiny in the bed, so fragile. The heart monitor’s beating sound is constant, reassuring me she’s actually okay. I find it in me to move closer and pull a chair over to the side of the bed. Needing her warmth, I take her hand in mine and rub circles over it, much like the first time she came home with me. I never knew I had a heart, let alone imagined I would hand it over, along with my balls, to the woman in front of me.
The thought brings a smile to my lips, which dies with the rampant thoughts invading my head.
“Hey.” My voice breaks as I begin to speak. “I hope to God you can hear me. I’m too much of a pussy to do this when you can answer me back. But still…”
“I’m so sorry for all this shit. I’m sorry it was my life, my past, which caused all of this. I know Archie was twisted but he would have left you alone if it weren’t for me. So I’ve been thinking…” I pause for a moment to try and gather my thoughts, try to find the words.
“I love you more than anything. You and Kai are my world. You do know that, right? I’ve loved you from the moment you let me inside that amazing body of yours. Maybe I just wanted to fuck you at first, but I handed you my heart a long time ago.” Moisture wells in my eyes. “I don’t want it back, that’s not what I’m asking. What I’m trying to say is… fuck… I want you to keep it. It belongs more to you than me, anyway. But this is for the best. Best for you and Kai. It’s not best for me.” The warm tears begin to fall, and splash down onto our entwined hands.
“I’m not what you need in your life. I’m not what anybody needs in their life. You deserve the prince, the fucking king of all men.” I heave in a shaky breath. “That’s not me. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, how much I want you. It’s meaningless when your safety’s concerned. When our son’s safety is concerned. I wish I could tell you this to your face, see that beautiful storm in your eyes raging at me, but I know you’d convince me I’m wrong, or you’d hate me. Maybe you’d forgive me in the end. But I can’t forgive myself. Not for this…”
I lay a light kiss on her hand. “I’ll love you for a fucking eternity.” Exhaling harshly, I hold her palm to my face, memorise her scent, take her warmth. Try and gather every last shred of her I can take with me because it’s all I’ll have. Her fingers twitch in my grasp and I know it’s time to leave. I stand up, lean over, and place my lips against her forehead and my voice breaks. “Goodbye, angel.”
I turn to leave and open the door. She lets out a pained whimper as she begins to stir. She mumbles something; it’s almost inaudible, but I hear each word as if she had shouted them.
Love you.
It carves open my heart, and takes my breath, as I close the door behind me. Her words freeze me in place, my hand firm around the door handle. But I remind myself I’m nothing to love. She deserves better. She deserves safe.
Somehow I force my feet to move away and get back to the waiting area. Zander jumps from his seat when I walk in and he braces me with his arm. “Shit, is she all right?”
“Yeah, she’s okay. Doc says she’ll be good in a few days.” I manage to squeeze out the information and push him off of me. “I need to go.”
“I’ll take you.” Jase stands up and gets his keys from his pocket.
Zan eyes me. “What’s going on?”
Unable to answer, I can only shake my head at him before I turn and leave the very place I’m desperate to stay.
Jase keeps pace with me. “You need to get cleaned up.”
I nod without looking at him. We stride out of the building to the truck still at the kerb.
“Where you going?”
I want to answer, ‘To Hell.’ But it comes out as, “Macy’s.”
“You have seen what a fucking mess you are, right?”
“Second time you said that. I’m gonna get a complex.” I pull open the door of his truck and get in.
Jase settles in the driver’s side. “Well, you know I love a little blood and gore, mate. But you’d even put me off my pint.”
Glancing down at myself, I take in the blood and dirt stains. “You got your med kit on you?”
Jase nods as he pulls away from the med centre.
My chest constricts hard, forcing me to swallow down the heart now in my throat. “Take me to Ignition. But stop by the store at the end of East Street on the way. You know the one. They sell lots of alcohol.”
