by Hammond, T.
Chapter Sixteen
My muscles were still trembling from the hard burn of the bike. I added a bit more resistance than I was used to, and tacked on a few extra minutes- not on purpose, but I am pretty sure I set the alarm gauge wrong. I stopped when I heard the clock upstairs gong the half hour mark, and I realized I had been at it for longer than I’d intended. The quick cooling shower was nice before I re-dressed in my jeans and a long-sleeved pullover shirt. I’d feel it tomorrow, for sure.
I was on my way up the stairs to the pantry when the driveway alarm rang. I made a point to close and secure the basement door behind me, as I navigated my way to the kitchen to see if there was any coffee in the canister. Success was mine! I soon had a mug full as I wandered to the living room. It was a surprise when there was a knock on the door; everyone let themselves in with their own keys. I switched directions toward the front door, just as a second, harder knock sounded against the heavy wood.
“Who is it?” I asked through the door.
“It’s Devon, Teresa.”
What in the hell was he doing here?
“I have some paperwork for Bas and David. Colonel Spencer wanted me to drop it off.” He persisted.
Shrugging off my unease that he was showing up at the house unannounced and unexpected, I keyed in the alarm code so I could open the door. On impulse, I also tapped in a code the guys added to the alarm system that sent a text to their cell phones. From the keypad, I was able to type a message at the panel, in the same way I would type phone text: D-E-V-O-N-? Their cell phones would show the message coming from the house alarm panel, rather than my cell. It wasn’t really an emergency or distress signal, rather a ‘just in case’ code David added to let the guys know if an appointment showed up early.
They told me to listen to my gut, and my gut was churning- probably with revulsion, but better safe than sorry, right? The last meeting with him left a bad taste in my mouth, I felt better knowing one of the guys would show up if Devon started acting like a jerk again.
I swung the door partially open, blocking it with my right shoulder as my left hand reached outwards, “Please hand me the paperwork, Devon. I’ll make sure David gets it when he returns.”
Devon shouldered me backwards, forcing his way into the foyer. I was slightly off balance, and it took me a moment to reorient myself. “The paperwork is ‘eyes only’ so I’ll just take it downstairs and leave it on David’s desk.” I listened to his footsteps briskly thump across the kitchen into the pantry. “The door’s closed. How do I get in?” He asked. Ordered?
I am so impressed when people try to tell me what to do. I closed the front door, not bothering to lock it. The guys were planning to meet here within the next half hour. I had no doubt at least one of them was no more than ten minutes away. “You don’t, Devon. The guys aren’t here. That’s a restricted area, people don’t go in without an escort.”
“Yeah, well David works for us. And I’m telling you I need to put this paperwork on his desk, so you can take me downstairs. Or, open the door and I’ll take it down. I have security clearance, so it’s no big deal.” His voice was muffled, but I heard him moving cans and boxes, probably looking for the door lock or keypad. I grinned, Good luck with that. “God damn it, Teresa. How the fuck do I get in here?”
I took a calming sip of my coffee. “If you are so concerned about security, Devon, I can put the papers into the wall safe. They will be perfectly fine there until David gets back.”
I heard a crash. It sounded like Devon was in a temper and threw a can against the wall. The uneasy feelings I had when he identified himself at the door suddenly bloomed into full-fledged alarm. I placed my mug on the counter, determined to get to the alarm keypad. I needed to upgrade my text to something more urgent. I had only taken two steps from the counter, when I was grabbed from behind and spun around.
The slap came out of nowhere, knocking me sideways with the abruptness of the action before I even registered the hit; pain erupted over the right side of my face. My hands, flung out reflexively when my body spun around, prevented me from bashing my head on the island countertop. My hair was grabbed in a cruel fist, as Devon jerked me around, and marched me across the floor. “I want the fucking code, Teresa. And don’t think your boyfriends will save you; the closest one is still twenty minutes away. I can dish out a lot of hurt in that amount of time. How do I get downstairs?”
He had forced me to the pantry entrance. Part of my brain was wondering how was Devon so sure I wouldn’t be getting help right away? The other part of my brain was screaming, fuck this! Janey wasn’t the only one with an ex-Navy man teaching her self-defense. He made the mistake of letting me loose, to poke my shoulder. Now, I had an idea of how far away he was. I spun towards him, linking my fingers and cocking my elbows, swinging in the same motion as if I held a baseball bat. I was mentally preparing to connect with the side of his face, but the shockwave of connecting with his jaw, sent reverberations all the way up my arms and into my shoulders. I made the mistake of waiting a heartbeat too long before I took advantage of the hit. I backed into the pantry, intending to slam and lock the outer pantry door, letting myself into the basement door while he was trapped in the kitchen. Devon used my momentum to spin me out of the pantry doorframe and slam me up against the refrigerator, pinning me in place by my throat. His fingers dug in painfully, cutting off oxygen while the air I did get was tainted by cigarettes and stale beer as his breath fanned my face. “How the fuck do I get in? And, what is the fucking code?”
Geez, when had Devon crossed the line from asshole ex-boyfriend to bad guy? I don’t know if he realized how tightly he was grinding his knuckles into my throat, or if he understood I needed air to form his answer. Finally, his grip eased enough that I was able to fill my lungs. With that first painful gulp of air, came the return of my common sense and a shitload of anger.
A knee to his groin earned me a re-tightening of his fingers over my trachea, only this time he reflexively closed his fingers and shoved upwards, slamming my head backwards. His free hand brushed my hip, as he cupped himself protectively. “Fucking, Bitch!” He spat, in a heated voice, promising more pain and retribution. He pulled great draws of breath into his chest as he fought through the agony of a direct hit to his balls.
His body had curved slightly forward and away from me, as he partially bent into a defensive position. It gave me enough room to stomp a heel into his instep, and shove a curled fist into his diaphragm. Not quite textbook, but it backed him up a step and he let go of my neck. I wasn’t totally sure where he was at this point. My hearing may be a bit better than most to compensate for the lack of sight, but right now, all I heard was a rush of blood in my ears. Determined to get away, I stepped towards his body and let fly with an elbow jab in the vicinity I guessed his throat or head would be. It felt like a glancing blow, but I heard the faint crunch of bone as I likely broke his nose. He cried out in pain, the sound allowing me to locate his face again. This time I used the heel of my hand to slam the underside of his chin. The snap of his teeth was followed by the heavy impact of his body falling backwards toward the island counter. The thump of him hitting the floor galvanized me into action and I swiftly felt my way along the wall to reach the alarm pad.
The front door slammed open and I sucked back a frightened scream. There were two of them, I wasn’t going to make it to the alarm in time. I backed myself into the alcove so I was somewhat protected by the corner walls in the foyer. My legs were strong and had better reach, I would use what I had until Bas or David arrived.
“Holy shit!” There was a pause, then, “This is Detective Gil Westfield requesting officer assistance and an ambulance to…” Gil’s voice trailed off. “Oh crap, Teresa? It’s Gil, take it easy, I’m getting help.”
My brain shut down. Gil was here. I was safe, there wasn’t a second assailant. I vaguely heard him speaking to dispatch. Words tumbled through my brain, but I was crashing hard, post adrenaline, so not able to make sense of
them: ambulance, home invasion, blood, military… I barely registered Gil’s calming tone, trying to talk me out of my corner, but I was pretty comfy right where I was, thank you very much. I remember that he tried to brush my hair back, but I asked him very politely if he could, “please leave me alone for a few minutes.”
I don’t know how long it was before Bas’ familiar voice reached me. I felt the comforting weight of his hand sliding around my shoulder, just as he told me he was going to pick me up. I was summarily scooped up and held against his massive chest. He was trembling. I kept my head tucked under his chin, but lifted my hand towards his face to soothe him. “I’m okay, Bastian. I think I hurt him more than he hurt me. I’m just a little shaky right now. I’ll be fine.” My voice was raspy, a result of Devon’s fingers squeezing my throat. Boy were the guys going to be pissed, if my throat looked anything like it felt.
He placed a soft kiss on my temple. “We need to check you out, Teresa. You have blood all over you. Is there anything broken? Does it hurt for me to hold you like this?” His voice was tender, and so very concerned.
“I think I just have bumps and bruises,” I admitted. “Although, he got in one good slap to the face, and my throat hurts. I’m going to be black and blue for a few days.” I smiled, what I’m sure was an evil smile. “If there’s blood, it’s probably from Devon’s face. I’m pretty sure I broke the bastard’s nose.”
“I’m definitely sure you broke more than his nose, Babe. His face is a mess, and it looks like he broke an arm or his collarbone when you laid him out.” There was a hint of pride in his voice that made me grin. “Smart girl, sending out the alarm text.”
I wasn’t sure who might be close enough to hear, so I whispered, “He wanted to go into the basement. Devon was positive you and David were at least twenty minutes away. He was convinced he had time to get downstairs before either of you would arrive. GPS, or a bug, I think.”
“You can thank David and his paranoia for Gil’s timely arrival. Since Gil only lives about five minutes from the house, David asked him a few days ago if he would mind us adding him to the alert texts for the alarm system. When you didn’t answer our calls to your cell phone, Gil told us he’d swing by and run interference on Devon until one of us arrived.”
I heard the faint thumping sound of a helicopter approaching the house. “That helicopter better not be for me,” I warned, tensing.
I felt more than heard, the chuckle bouncing around in Bas’ chest. “Have no fear, Ass Kicking Girl. The ‘copter is courtesy of Fairchild. Since your asshole ex happens to have entered the house, probably with the intent to steal classified documents, Uncle Sam has decided that they will be the ones to see to Lt. Devon Carpenter’s medical needs.”
“Time to take a look at what the bastard did to you. I’m going to put you on one of the kitchen chairs while I have a medic assess your injuries, okay?” I clutched tighter at Bas’ shoulders to prevent him letting me go.
“Hey, it’s alright, Teresa. I’ll be right here. You’re safe now. David and Red are only a couple more minutes away,” Bastian crooned, obviously mistaking my concern.
I could have milked the sympathy card, but that’s not the way I operate. I already had my five minute meltdown, this was about keeping my guys safe and sane. “Yeah, about that,” I said. “Is Gil close by?”
Instead of answering, Bas called out over my shoulder, “Hey Gil! Got a minute?”
“Wassup?” Gil asked. “How’s our heavyweight contender?”
“Gil, I wanted you to be here before Bas puts me down, in case there’s a problem.” Not bothering with an explanation, I looked towards Gil’s voice and let him see the right side of my face, and the damage to my throat. The pain in my neck had been steadily growing until each fingerprint from Devon’s hand throbbed in time with the pounding of my pulse. I’m sure I was looking like a victim of domestic violence.
Long, very drawn out pause. “I understand. Hold on a sec. Bas, let me grab a couple of towels to put over the dining room chair so Teresa doesn’t have to worry about messing up the cushion with the deadbeat’s blood spatter.” Muffled footsteps wandered away in the direction of the kitchen. I listened to him carry on a brief conversation with someone in the kitchen, and then I heard the footsteps return.
Bas is a smart guy. He knew something was up. I could hear the increase of the heartbeat under my ear, and his arms automatically tightened as he followed Gil’s movements. “I’m about to be really pissed off, aren’t I?” He sighed.
“’Fraid so, Bas. You need to make sure David doesn’t go for Devon before they get him loaded onto the helicopter. That asshole is in a world of hurt right now. His career is in the toilet. And I just don’t need the added stress of you both being in trouble too. Please, just hold it together, okay? Don’t let David be stupid.”
I assume Gil covered my cushions, because I was very gently placed on a chair. I felt the brush of Bas’ hand smoothing the fall of hair from my cheeks. I took a deep breath. Ouch, that hurt too. Bastian stroked my hair absently as he studied the damage to my face, fingers so gentle in contrast to the, “Goddamnedmotherfuckingsonofabitch,” that erupted from behind clenched teeth. “Be right back,” he promised, placing a whisper soft kiss on the unmarred side of my face.
“Bas, really. I can’t let you go over there. Compromise?” Gil asked, but you could tell it was more of a negotiation that had started between the two of them.
“What?” Bastian’s voice held rage, and skepticism.
“Let me have your cell phone so I can take a few pictures for you. Teresa kicked his ass, Man. Let me snap a few photos for you to gloat over. Don’t put me in a bad spot by trying to approach him.” Gil waited patiently, then added again, “Please?”
“Fine!” Bas snarled. “These better be stellar shots that give me hours of entertainment.”
Gil chuckled, “Oh man, you’re gonna love ‘em. I promise.”
I heard increased activity in the kitchen, so I assumed that Devon was being loaded up for transport. Within minutes Gil returned to our side with pictures, as the swooshing of the back sliding door indicated the Bastard was being carted out.
“Crap!” Gil said, “Teresa, can you avoid looking directly at David for a minute so we can secure Lt. Carpenter on the ‘copter? And if it makes you feel better, I plan to tell every soldier on that ride that a blind girl kicked the L.T.’s pathetic ass. Bare handed.” Yep, definitely a note of pride in his tone. I’ll admit I smiled at the implied praise.
“Lights on.” Red warned, seconds before bright light flooded my brain and I was awash in EMTs, policemen snapping photos of the kitchen, and blood. Geez, there was blood all over the floors and counters. Ken was going to be so ticked off. Through Red’s eyes, I watched a woman tentatively approach us. I can understand her hesitation, I was encircled in a sea of testosterone. Top shelf variety at that; it would have been enough to make any woman pause and stare. “Teresa, are you okay. Oh man, David was mad in the car, but he’s going to go ballistic when he sees you.”
“Oh God,” I moaned, clamping a hand over my mouth, “I think I’m going to be sick.” I watched as Bas, who was closest, sweep me up off the chair, and strode quickly down the hallway to the guest bathroom. Red stayed behind to check out the damage to the living room. I watched as David tossed his keys on the kitchen table and followed us.
I tried to hold back the nausea, but I knew it was a losing battle. “Red, he has to stop the mind vision, too much light,” I managed to choke out before I lost my dignity, and my breakfast. My mind filled with too much movement as Red’s attention scanned the room, following the activity of the response people. I don’t know why I was surprised to see half-a-dozen men in military uniforms speaking with Gil, who directed them towards the living room.
I felt Bas move to the side to let David move up beside him, on my left side, I noticed. I wondered if that was intentional to delay my lover getting a look at the damage before the helicopter took off. David�
�s long-fingered hands threaded through my hair to hold it back from my face as I heaved up the contents in my stomach. “Probably has a concussion,” Bas explained. “Red is feeding her a visual, and the lights are too much for her. If you’ve got her, let me get to Red and have him stop mind speak and visuals for the rest of the day.”
“Thanks, Bas,” David replied softly. I watched Bas approach Red, and crouch down to pet him, leaning close enough to block out Red’s view of the room. My world went dark. Thank goodness.
I leaned forward once again. This time, David supported me with an arm wrapped around my shoulders and his free hand clutching my hair into a ponytail at my nape, while I retched the remaining scraps of food in my stomach.
“You know that you’re about to take a ride in an ambulance, right? You have a concussion for sure.” David’s voice was low, as if he was aware that too much noise would probably start the heaving process again.
