Axle: A Military Bad Boy Mercenary Romance (The Bang Shift Book 5)

by Mandy Harbin

  “If you two are done making goo-goo eyes at each other,” Lorenzo said from beside them, and they both immediately dropped their hands.

  “What?” Axle said low and dark. If voices alone could kill someone, his would have murdered Lorenzo right there on the spot.

  Lorenzo took a step back. “Um, I was just going to say those men you sent for the car are back.”

  Axle stormed off to where the soldiers where gathered.

  “Damn, that was intense.”

  “Yeah,” she breathed, though she was positive Lorenzo had been talking about how Axle reacted toward him, and not the moment the two of them had just shared.

  What the hell was she doing? She could not get a crush on the military muscle. She was here to do a job and the last thing she wanted to do was get distracted, or worse—compromise her story.

  When Axle returned, he was all business, and she was relieved. He directed them to the car and assisted them as they loaded their gear before coming toward her.

  She instinctively backed up.

  Her back hit the vehicle.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her as if to ask just where she was going, but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut. He lifted his hand, showing her the helmet she’d had earlier, almost if chastising her for forgetting it.

  “I knew where it was.” She didn’t, and she blamed what happened just a moment ago for the reason. Instead of handing it to her this time, though, he slipped it on her head and helped her with it. If her breath quickened at the feel of him tucking her hair in the hijab, or his finger grazing her chin, she ignored it. He opened the door and lifted her to the seat in the back.

  She gasped at his sudden movement and his tough-man strength. But his breathing never even changed, nor did he show any signs whatsoever of exertion. She wasn’t a big lady, but she was on a first-name basis with the carhops at Sonic. Strawberry cheesecake milkshake, please and thank you! She looked like a blonde version of one of the Kardashian women, just not the model-thin one. Having his hands on her waist, even briefly, was almost too much for her to control. She lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder to keep distance between them and help balance herself as she sucked in her tummy. It was instinct, she told herself. But touching him as he touched her only ignited this foreign longing she felt. Whatever was happening with him was happening too fast and was too foreign to her to put a name on. She’d never had this kind of a response to any man. None. And she’d been in the same room as Jason Momoa when working on her thesis project.

  To hide her body’s reaction, she quipped, “I thought ladies get to ride shotgun.”

  “You are,” he said as he pointed to a hole in the roof where a machine gun was. She covered her mouth in shock and looked at him. His pinched lips and the gleam in his eyes told her he was fighting a smile.

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “But that’s what you get.”

  “Really?” she asked, and looked at the space again.

  He sobered. “Can’t have anyone seeing you through the windshield and taking shots. You’re sitting here because I’m riding passenger and can watch you from the corner of my eye.”

  “I don’t think twenty-four-seven actually means you have to sit with your eyeballs glued to my body.”

  He leaned closer and she sunk back into the seat to maintain space. It didn’t work. He reached over her, dug around for something out of her view, and softly said, “There aren’t many perks to this job—” He pulled out a breakfast sandwich and handed it to her—“Getting to look at you isn’t the hardship here.”

  She opened her mouth, stunned by his words, but he shut the door before she could say anything. Once he was seated in his own spot, he glanced at her, and she was sure her mouth hung open still. “Eat. Save the energy bars for emergencies.”

  They headed out, and she stared at the biscuit with egg enveloped in plastic wrap. She hadn’t seen anything like this as an option, only rice, so where had he gotten it? She looked beside her seat and discovered he’d been rummaging around in his own backpack. This had been his breakfast, and he was giving it to her.

  Her heart stuttered as warmth filled her. This man who she hardly knew, who’d been hired to protect her, was sacrificing his own comfort to make sure she ate something she liked. The gesture might not seem big, but it was probably one of the nicest things anybody had done for her. The act was one she’d never forget…even if she couldn’t accept it. She pushed the sandwich toward him.

  “Thank you, but I can’t take your food. You lectured me on having energy to run from bad guys. Can’t have you passing out from low blood sugar in the middle of shooting people.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and the gesture had been as sexy as the last time he’d done it. Several seconds passed before he spoke. When he did, his words came out slow, distinct. “You have no idea of the years of training my body’s been through. I can go without food, water, and sleep for periods of time that a lesser person would die from.”

  Her hand dropped slightly, but she didn’t say anything. What could she? She knew the military didn’t skimp on training. She had no doubt as to what he’d just said.

  “You will eat that sandwich. If we were the only two Westerners in this country, that sandwich the only food left behind, and it came down to you or me eating it, it’d still be all you.”

  “Well, now you’re just being silly,” she said as she eased back from his level stare and opened it. If he wasn’t going to take it, she wasn’t going to make him. She was hungry and it did smell delicious.

  He chuckled, and she decided she liked the sound of his laugh. “Sweetheart, you’re no good to me weak.”

  She knew the endearment hadn’t been literal, but her cheeks grew warm anyway. Best thing for her to do was ignore the man in front and be grateful she had something pleasant to munch on.

  He confused her, twisted her in ways that she’d never been before, and never so quickly after meeting someone.

  She wished she understood why this man in particular did that to her…almost as much as she wished he had no effect on her at all.

  Almost.

  Chapter Four

  They’d been on the road for about an hour with Axle keeping constant watch of their surroundings. They’d stopped several times to investigate possible IEDs, but so far, it had been all clear. That didn’t stop Axle from scanning for any anomalies, though.

  He’d hated to take his gaze off the landscape even for a second, but he had to in order to glance at Caitlin. She’d gone quiet after he’d given her the breakfast sandwich. It had been maddening when she’d tried refusing the food he’d offered. It was another example of her not following his orders without question. But if he was completely honest, it had also been sweet of her since she’d done it thinking he hadn’t eaten anything that morning. He had, of course. He’d had some chow brought to him last night while she’d been sleeping and had asked for some easily transported breakfast for him and Caitlin for this morning since they had to leave around the time the chow hall opened. It would’ve been packed, and they wouldn’t have had time to eat and get in the air on schedule. He heated the four sandwiches this morning, scarfing down two and packing the others right before she was scheduled to meet up with him. He’d had every intention of telling her first thing, but when she’d walked out with a low-cut tank top, his brain scrambled. Then she’d gone and dropped that porno bit, and all logic was MIA. They were in the air when he remembered, and by the time they landed in Jalalabad, he knew her breakfast wouldn’t be warm anymore. It was the reason he’d wanted her to eat something hot before loading up in the ground transport. It hadn’t worked. He should’ve given her the cold eggs anyway. After she’d stopped protesting, she’d inhaled it as if it was the best meal she’d ever eaten.

  When finished, she’d pulled out her laptop and started working. She’d asked questions every once in a while to Lorenzo who sat in the back with her. How to spell certain words after muttering what Axle thought
were cuss words before groaning about not having Internet. He couldn’t be sure since it wasn’t exactly quiet in this ride.

  “What’s the name of the unit you said we’re visiting first?” she asked.

  Axle’s gaze blinked at her on autopilot, but this time she looked at him instead of her work partner, asking Axle directly. “I didn’t.” He looked back out the windshield.

  “Is it classified?”

  “No,” he answered with another look, keeping his focus on her this time.

  She squinted at him. “Are you being evasive on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” she asked slowly with a tilt of her head.

  He was just messing with her. He didn’t know why he liked giving her a hard time. Normally, he was helpful and forthcoming with information. Well, information that wasn’t classified, and if anything surrounding these units was, he wouldn’t be taking her to see them. He also knew his orders, so he wouldn’t be any of her information sources. But this wasn’t the same thing.

  “Because you’re a journalist. It’s your job to uncover the truth, not have it spoon fed to you.” He winked to lighten the punch of his words, but he immediately regretted that almost involuntary action. Her cheeks grew pink, and he got a knot in his stomach as he resisted the urge to stroke them.

  What the fuck? Where in the world was this need to comfort this woman coming from? He sure as hell couldn’t touch her like that. The few times he’d had his hands on her had electrified him to the point he’d had to wade through the lusty fog of his brain to find his professional ethics. He’s only known her inside of twenty-hour hours. There was no reason for this kind of response to her. With each touch, it was getting harder and harder to keep his distance. And that wasn’t the only thing getting hard.

  Maybe he’d been on tour too long. Yeah, that had to be it.

  “I’m doing my job by asking you.”

  “I’m not authorized to answer your questions.” It was the truth, and she needed to know it. Granted, the order Burge had given him didn’t really apply to this scenario. It was military data Axle couldn’t share, not their agenda. His responsibility to keep her safe meant he could choose to share relevant information at the last possible moment, and he couldn’t help stalling just a little longer.

  “But I need—”

  “The 39th Infantry Brigade, A Company, 28th Signal,” the man driving said at the same time, stopping her from finishing her statement.

  “Acker,” Axle barked. “Did I give you permission to speak on my fucking behalf?”

  The man stiffened. “No, sir!”

  Axle rubbed a hand over his face to get his wits about him and looked at Caitlin. She was typing away on her keyboard, probably noting the name of the unit. He sighed and then said, “We’re visiting the servicemen of the 39th Infantry Brigade out of Arkansas first. Then we’ll meet up with the 1st Calvary Division Sustainment Brigade.” He hesitated before adding, “They’re both army units.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she kept typing. When she finished, she looked up, “What did you mean you’re not authorized to answer my questions?”

  “I’m here to protect you. That’s it.”

  “But you’re stationed here.” She frowned. “You have an inside perspective that I don’t.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m going to provide specifics.”

  She huffed, not that he could hear it. “My boss is not going to be happy about this. I have a job to do.”

  “Me, too. And my boss isn’t allowing me to speak to you on the record. Guarantee you, he’s a hell of a lot more intimidating than yours.”

  Her mouth fell open, and he could tell her brain was processing that little bit of information. “But you could tell me general information without giving up any details. That’s what he’s worried about, right?”

  “I’m your guard, not Google.”

  She glared at him. “That’s not what I mean.”

  “I know.” He shrugged. “But aside from your personal wellbeing and your agenda, you need to direct your questions to the people authorized to discuss this with you.”

  “ETA ten minutes, sir,” Acker said.

  Axle turned and checked his rifle and sidearm as he said, “Be ready to dive right in when we get there, Caitlin. We have an hour with each team, no more.”

  He heard her rustling around and looked to see what she was doing. She’d packed her laptop and pulled out a notebook.

  “Crap,” she muttered as she kept digging in her bag. “I can’t find my pen.”

  Axle pulled his favorite tactical pen out and handed it to her. It was the same one he’d handed to her when she’d signed the paperwork. He never let anyone use. Even when he was on leave, he had it with him. “I’m going to start charging you to use this thing.”

  She glowered at him, but took it. “Put it on my—”

  A crack split the air. It was an all too familiar sound. No matter how prepared he was, no matter the armor surrounding him, it would always give him nightmares. “Get down!” he yelled, cutting her off.

  He had his assault rifle on the ready and yanked it up, searching for the shooter who’d popped one off at them. He was relieved Caitlin had immediately buried her head between her knees.

  “Came in from the east,” Acker barked, and swerved the vehicle from side to side, making it more difficult for the person to get another shot at them. If they were still in the crosshairs, the zigzagging would make it much more difficult for the enemy to hit them.

  Axle pushed the button on his comm. “Haverty? You got eyes on the shooter?”

  Several more shots rang out, sounding too close. Way too fucking close. Axle cussed out loud, and at the same time, Haverty replied, “Negative, sir. Team is scoping.”

  That meant the guys in the other vehicle had their binoculars out, looking. Axle would have done the same, but his main focus was Caitlin. He glanced at her again, and she was visibly shaking. He reached out to pat her knee, hoping to ease her fears if only just slightly.

  He looked out the side and saw a flash from a rifle before a shot whizzed right by, ricocheting off a boulder they’d just passed. Shit, that was way too close! But at least it clued him in on the direction the attack was coming from. He aimed in that vicinity and fired several times. The vehicle came to a screeching stop right as Acker called the others with the location of where the hit had come. Within seconds, Axle wasn’t the only one pelting the area with rounds of ammo. He ceased and swung his focus around the front and other side since his guys had the other direction handled. When he was certain no fire came from anywhere else, he dropped his rifle. The others had stopped shooting, and they all sat silently, listening. Caitlin breathed heavily, but Axle couldn’t look at her again just yet. When he felt confident they weren’t under attack any longer, he pressed his comm and said, “Let’s move. We’ll do a battle damage assessment when we get there.”

  He checked his rifle as they surged forward with the momentum of the speeding vehicle.

  “That’s never happened to me before,” Lorenzo said, not even trying to hide the panic in his voice.

  “We were lucky,” Axle said flatly. “Couldn’t have been more than a couple of guys out there. Could’ve been a lot more.” There usually was, but he didn’t want to say that.

  He twisted to the side. Caitlin still had her head between her legs, so he reached over and rubbed the one closest to him. “You can sit up now.”

  She trembled under his hand, and he hated she was scared, but damn, they were in a war zone. It was a rare day around here when he wasn’t getting shot at. It was the very reason he didn’t agree with journalists being embedded in any unit. The cost of causalities was too great.

  Slowly, she rose, her eyes wide. He had this insane urge to pull her into his lap and coddle her. Of course, he couldn’t, but more importantly, he hated the fact his instinct was to do just that.

  It’s because you have to protect her, that’s all.

&nbs
p; He didn’t believe the lie one bit, nor did he like just how aware he was she sparked something within him.

  “Caitlin, you’re okay,” he said slowly. Her head jerked around as if she was a cornered animal. His hand on her leg had stilled, so he stroked her gently again. “Hey, there. Look at me.”

  She did and her mouth opened, working as if to say something. He waited patiently for her to get whatever it was out. “S-sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. She shook her head as if clearing it and took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said a little more confidently this time.

  A surge of pride filled him at her willingness to be brave in a circumstance he was quite sure she’d never experienced before.

  “Don’t apologize. You did what you were told.” He smiled at her.

  “Now if only you’d mind me when you’re not being shot at,” he said, trying to help her relax. The danger wasn’t over. It never would be, but the immediate threat had been neutralized.

  She shuttered her eyes, and unlike before, he was glad to see the spark of her defiance. “This is different.”

  That was true, and it’d do her well to be reminded of that often—verbally—so that she wouldn’t be too shocked to react whenever reality took aim at them again. “Exactly. This is a war zone, Caitlin. Shots can be fired at anytime, anywhere.”

  She sucked in another breath and nodded. He didn’t like her learning this lesson so explicitly, but if it took a couple of tangos on a roadside to drive the point home, then so be it.