The Lost and Found Series

by Amanda Mackey

  I couldn’t help it. I cried some more, unable to stop. I’d never wept so much, and after sobbing for ages in the tub, it surprised me I still had anything left in reserve.

  For whatever reason he let his guard down and held me, it didn’t matter. I took the moment for what it was, needing the comfort it brought. His solid frame acted as a barrier of protection, his generous arms, the locks to ensure my safety. I relished in the feel they brought, not caring if they were temporary.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  He knew. He damn well knew. I didn’t need to say a word. His lips rested on the side of my face as his tone soothed me, the whispered words vibrating against my skin.

  “I can’t stop crying.”

  “You’ve been through quite an ordeal. I’m not surprised. Just let it all out.” Calm Harley had returned. For how long, I didn’t know, but I held on, needing the support. His arms remained solid and safe, and I didn’t want to leave their confines. Ever. But after a moment, I could feel him tense up again as he took a step back.

  “You need anything?”

  As if flicking a switch, he returned to indifferent mode. Frustrated, knowing he thought he was doing it to protect me from himself, I shuffled away toward the kitchen.

  He didn’t follow immediately, but then after a beat or two I heard his boots heavy on the floor. When I reached the kitchen, I met Viper just stepping out. “Coffee? Tea? Scotch?” he asked with a slight smirk.

  Coughing out a laugh, I shook my head. “No. Thank you. I’m good now.”

  He shot a heated look to Harley. “One of us is staying here tonight. You gonna volunteer?”

  Butting in, I cried out, “No! It’s okay. I had a meltdown, that’s all. I’m fine now, really.”

  He shook his head. “Not happening, darlin’.”

  I swung to Harley to see what his answer would be. He stood rigid, arms tight into his body.

  “Fine,” he ground out, not looking at me.

  “That’s settled then. I’m heading home. I’ll call around tomorrow to pick up douche over there.”

  Glancing at his watch, he added, “You still got that cell I gave you, Dec?” He jerked his head in the direction of his friend, who gave a curt nod. With that he walked to me, gave me a brief hug, and whispered, “Call me if he gets too much.” Then he left, leaving me perplexed with his organization of everything. Why had he volunteered Harley to watch over me when he needed as much if not more monitoring? Ugh. My brain couldn’t analyze another damn thing.

  When the door shut he said, “You should go rest. Catch up on some sleep.”

  I didn’t want to rest. As exhausted as I felt, I knew sleep wouldn’t come easily.

  “No. I’m going to try and eat something. I haven’t had anything for what feels like days.” The idea of food had my stomach lurch, but I needed sustenance of some kind to give me some energy.

  “Go in the living room. I’ll get you something,” he barked as if I were one of his soldiers.

  Surprised he offered when, judging by the look of him he could drop at any moment, I simply stood and left the kitchen, a numbness blanketing me.

  I listened as cupboards opened and shut, cutlery clanged, and water ran. He knew his way around my kitchen and had proven to me he was quite capable. Easing back into the chair, I let him fuss. He’d been put on the spot by his friend and now had to stay here under duress. I needed to give him credit for keeping himself in check to babysit me.

  Striding out and placing a plate with a veggie sandwich down, he rubbed the top of his head and looked at the ground as if he didn’t know what to do next.

  “Thank you. You can sit, you know. I won’t bite.”

  Opting for the chair beside the sofa, he kept his distance, maybe not trusting himself. The air was thick with unsaid things. I’d never been uncomfortable around him before and I didn’t like it now.

  Grabbing the remote, I flicked the television on to make some noise. Switching channels, I settled on a cooking show and we both sat quietly, me not really watching it. Harley seemed to stare through it.

  When I felt myself nodding off a while later, I rose, hating how much silence had passed between us. Harley looked to me with bleary eyes as if he fought sleep himself. I wanted nothing more than to reach out to him. Why could we not comfort each other? We were each fighting our own demons. It would be better to fight them together.

  As tired as I was, my sleep would be fraught with the threat of nightmares. Not wanting to be on my own, I said, “I’m going to lie down. I don’t think I want to be alone. Please? Stay in my room. At least if I know you’re there it might prevent another meltdown.”

  Closing his eyes briefly and breathing heavily out his nose, he opened them while scrubbing a hand over his face. He appeared torn. “I shouldn’t.”

  “It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just want company.”

  “I thought you said you were fine.” He took a step toward me, eyes narrowing.

  “I am…I mean…I probably would be…but…” Quite honestly, I knew I was far from fine. What a pair we were. It seemed we both suffered from PTSD.

  In a split second he stood, had me by the wrist and dragged me down the hallway to the bedroom. Throwing the door open and kicking it shut with his foot, he drew the curtains and walked to the bed, pulling the covers down.

  He began taking his clothes off.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, panicked.

  “Getting ready for bed.”

  “In the nude?”

  Throwing his jeans, boots, and shirt on the chair in the corner, he hinted at a smile. The first one I’d seen in a while. “I normally sleep in boxers. You okay with that?”

  Nodding, words failed me as I took in his fine form. I couldn’t help but ogle. Even relaxed, his muscles bulged. Blinking a couple of times, I fought off my stupor as he climbed into bed. I walked to the closet and changed into a tank and long pajama bottoms before switching the light off and lying down on the very edge of the bed on my side, keeping plenty of distance between us. I felt the heat rolling off him and his manly smell, which I inhaled softly so he couldn’t hear me. With my eyes open, I lay still listening to him breathing beside me, knowing full well that I’d still be in the same position when naptime ended.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harley

  Sinking to the ground as gracefully as possible, considering we were all loaded up with armory and weapons, we disengaged our chutes and assembled together. Ammunition hung like expensive, cumbersome jewelry around our necks. We needed to carry it the four miles to reach our destination.

  Our peace-keeping mission not only entailed rescuing the innocent, it also involved hostile means of eliminating the enemy.

  We had the element of surprise at 3 a.m., shrouded in darkness, our heat-seeking goggles our guides.

  We’d aborted radio contact with our base upon touching down in the desert, knowing our intent.

  As the commanding officer of the mission, my team trusted me implicitly to give them direction. Some of the men had served on other tours, some not. Either way, they all had my back and I had, theirs. We were a solid unit.

  Viper signaled to me that there were no immediate threats and we could proceed. He was always my eyes and ears and had the uncanny ability to hear and see things I couldn’t. He’d saved my ass many times with his sharp instincts. I owed him everything.

  The trek through the unforgiving terrain of Afghanistan proved difficult in the cloak of night. We moved quietly and cautiously, the dusty wasteland coating our nostrils with minute particles of its landscape. A souvenir sometimes even a long, hot shower failed to eradicate.

  Nothing stirred. No sign of life, and why should there be in the middle of Goddam nowhere? I couldn’t afford the luxury of thinking about home. My wife and life, separate from my job. I needed my head present and focused no matter how hard switching off could be.

  We trudged for another hour, stopping only once to r
ehydrate. Nearing a rocky outcrop, I knew we were close. Over the other side sat a small village overrun by savage militants we needed to weed out.

  Regrouping, we took pause before rounding the bend. My pack of five soldiers, through our coded sign language, would fan out into formation so we could approach the small establishment from all angles.

  I waited while they moved away from me, leaving me somewhat vulnerable, but knowing we were ghosts in the night and virtually undetectable.

  A hot breeze swept across the barren expanse as I took my first step forward, ready to shoot anyone who tried to attack.

  Standing behind a boulder, I moved to where I could see the tiny settlement lit only by the half moon and a lamp which glowed through a curtain-less window. Homes constructed of the earth with which they sat became larger as I closed the distance, crouched in a defensive pose, rifle sighted at the shack emitting the soft glow.

  My men had their own agenda. Keep me safe while moving in to the target: The only lit house in the town. Satellite navigation had pinpointed our location. A ramshackle third-world structure housing three of the enemy who had slain at least six children and as many women in the last forty-eight hours. In a village of only around seventy-five inhabitants, the percentage was huge.

  It appeared they were up burning the midnight oil, or perhaps the light acted as a deterrent and the occupants were all sound asleep. It didn’t matter. We were going in.

  I reached the house first and waited for my men. Viper appeared first and flanked me while the other four motioned to me they’d surround the place. Regardless of how many times I’d forced my way into the center of danger, the adrenalin never waned. It flooded my vital organs, letting me know I stood at the very precipice of life and possible death.

  On our typical count of four Viper and I barged in, immediately seeing heat on our night goggles. Two people were in one room with the third in another. We didn’t waste time, barreling toward the duo, fingers ready to fire.

  Caught unaware, both men stood but didn’t reach for any weapons, knowing they’d be dead before they got close. Raising both their hands, a moment of vulnerability flashed over their faces before their egos closed off any more emotion.

  We’d been ordered to kill, but Viper and I liked to draw it out some. Let our targets know death had chosen them. The lives they’d taken mattered to us, and therefore in their honor we played with our prey. We motioned both men to move so that should the other person rise and enter the fray, we’d have him in our sights too. So far, little had been said apart from, “Don’t move! Don’t move! Get up!” It all happened in seconds. The men probably didn’t understand a word we said, but with the motioning of our weapons and the tone of our voices, it proved easy for them to translate our orders.

  Viper nodded to me and motioned with his head in their direction. I knew precisely what he meant. We inched closer to the bearded men, who screamed something out in their native tongue. Holding our weapons with one hand we both reached into our holsters and pulled out hand guns, aiming them before dropping our rifles. What we had planned would require closer attention and the rifles were just too cumbersome. My neck ached from the heavy artillery and gear hung over me, but I welcomed the pain. It spurred me on.

  “Shut up!” roared Viper.

  Movement behind the men brought forth the other occupant, who stupidly raised his gun in our direction behind his cohorts. Before Viper or I fired, the guy dropped to the ground, one of my men appearing in the room. Snake—aka Chris Walker—stepped over the dead man and switched his aim between each of our targets. We called him snake because of his ability to slither in quietly to awkward situations and take out threats to myself or my team.

  He’d get a slap on the back later and praise for his good work. For now though, we were far from through.

  Holding position, he waited while Viper and I stepped up to the sons of bitches who’d mercilessly taken the innocent lives of townspeople and probably planned on more carnage. Intel led us to believe they wanted to recruit more soldiers and were doing so without regard to females or minors. We had to put a stop to it.

  Placing the barrel of my pistol on one of the men’s shoulders I pressed down hard, letting him know I wanted him on his knees before me. Viper did the same. False bravado marked their faces as they spat words about the Almighty.

  They had a date with their Almighty soon enough. They’d soon learn there were consequences to their actions even in the afterlife.

  Time to have some fun, though. In commanding voices, we ordered them to remove their shirts by lifting the hems of them with the end our guns. We did this until they registered what we wanted. Viper’s guy complied but mine continued to spout off at me, so I pressed the barrel between his eyes, watching him sweat. He began removing his shirt. When both men were topless, we barked more orders.

  “Undo your belts. Pull your pants down.” They didn’t have a clue, so once again we pointed to their scruffy jeans. I chuckled as they decided whether their pathetic lives were worth the humiliation, enjoying their fear. With pants down around their knees, my friend and I looked at each other and laughed. Some of the men in our unit had been known to sport boners during times of extreme stress and actually got off on the rush of terror. These two, however, were limp as fuck. Pitiful really. I wondered if they’d raped any of the women using their poor excuses for dicks.

  Lowering my weapon level with my guy’s crotch, I loved every moment of his sharp intake of breath and whimper that escaped. I fell to my knees to be on an even keel.

  That’s right, fucker. You’re scared shitless. Welcome to the worlds of all those you’ve slaughtered.

  I gave him my most evil grin.

  “What do you reckon, Viper? Should we shoot these assholes in the balls or the heart?”

  Viper laughed. “Man, you know me. I’m a sick fuck. I say let’s chop off their dicks and stuff them down their throats. Make them choke on it. Then we can put bullet holes in them so they don’t die right away. Make it slow and painful.”

  He was sick. Even more so than me.

  Snake stood like a marble statue, waiting for instruction. I couldn’t help but wonder if he thought we were insane. Perhaps we were. Perhaps war had created two monsters. I’d analyze it later.

  Reaching into my black army boot, I retrieved my knife, sharpened to lethal precision. I twisted it in front of my enemy’s face, watching in fascination at his horrified expression.

  “You first, man. I want my guy to see what awaits him,” Viper offered.

  Lowering my blade to a mass of pubic hair, I ran it backward and forward lightly while never losing eye contact with my prey.

  He literally began crying with a gun to his temple and his dick about to be removed.

  As I brought my hand upward, ready to slice him like a cucumber, a voice called out to me. No, it yelled. A woman. Scared.

  The next thing I knew, I dragged in air as I sat upright, not in the dank building in Afghanistan, but in a modern room, light filtering through the half-closed curtains.

  Jumping from the bed, I gripped my head, roaring out.

  “Harley. Stop. You’ve had a nightmare. It’s okay.”

  That voice. I could no more ignore it than I could the messed up images from what must have been a crazy dream. It had seemed so real. Spinning, I found her, hovering in the corner of the room. Her frightened eyes killed me. I’d put the fear there. She was afraid of me. Again.

  Had I hurt her? Physically?

  “Mac…” I moved closer with my hand out, hoping like hell I hadn’t added further trauma to her.

  Putting her hand out to stop me, she stood taller, drawing on that inner strength I admired so much.

  “I’m okay, Harley. More importantly, how are you? Do you want to talk about it?”

  Talk about it? Hell no. I couldn’t process it, let alone talk about it. I was a monster. I’d tortured someone, even if they deserved it. Not only that, but I’d enjoyed doing it. Jesus. Had I
been born a savage or had war done that to me?

  Watching Mac take protection in the corner like a frightened bird helped me gain clarity. She was too good for me. I couldn’t be what she needed. She couldn’t save me. I don’t think I can save myself.

  Stopping before I reached her, knowing if she reached out to me I’d let her console me, I’d fall into her. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t give her any false hope of us being together. Everything had become so fucked up. The beautiful creature before me had the ability to bring me to my knees. I adored her, and yet because of these very real feelings, I wasn’t prepared to put her through hell piecing me back together. I would break her.

  Taking her in one last time, breathing in her spring garden scent, I held her eyes, trying to convey just how much she held my heart in her hands. I owed her everything and yet I couldn’t give her a damn thing without hurting her. She didn’t need to save me this time. I needed to save myself.

  Dawning lit her eyes. She knew this would be the last time we’d stand here like this.

  Tears welled and began their descent down her marred cheeks. Another reminder of what I had brought into her life.

  Grabbing my clothes and dressing without saying a word, I couldn’t look at her another second and see the pain glaring at me.

  Striding out into the hallway, I dragged my heavy feet and heavier heart out her door, feeling like shit for leaving her so vulnerable, but knowing I had no choice.

  It was a long walk back to my apartment, but one that would help me cool down. I needed to be alone. Viper would be pissed, but fuck him. Mac was safer with me gone. I didn’t even want to go to his place right now. To hear his words would only further my guilt. I craved fresh air and exercise to clear my head. Taking one last look back at her apartment, I steeled myself against the pain in my chest, knowing I’d just broken my own heart.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mac

  I knew he had no intention of coming back. He’d gone. For good. The resignation written on his face and the heartache I’d seen in his eyes told me the truth. He didn’t think he was good enough for me. Without me even getting a say. I made it to the bed before my legs gave way. Wretched sobs broke free, threatening to splay my chest wide open. After everything we’d been through, he’d given up. On us. On me.