An Act of Courage (Acts of Honor Series Book 4)

by K. C. Lynn

  “No one will ever hurt my family,” Cade assures me. “I’d never let them get close enough.”

  My eyes fall to the floor, my resolve slipping.

  “Christopher and Cade are right,” Faith says. “You’re safe here. Not only do you have us but there’s also Jaxson, Sawyer, and Cooper close by.”

  At the mention of Cooper, he takes the opportunity to cut back in. “I have to agree. I think this is the safest place for you right now.”

  “It makes no sense,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Why would anyone want to hurt me?”

  “Maybe no one does. We might find out it was mechanical and this is all just some strange coincidence.”

  I can tell he doesn’t believe that any more than anyone else does.

  “What do you want, honey?” my dad asks again, taking my hand in his. “Whatever you want, we will do it.”

  I slide a look at Christopher, my heart making the decision for me.

  “I want to be with Christopher.” The words are as soft as a whisper but they hold so much more than anyone could understand.

  CHAPTER 14

  Christopher

  It was late by the time everyone left. Cooper was the last one, leaving with the promise that he would be in touch as soon as he heard back about the inspection. In the meantime, I will do what I need to in order to keep her safe.

  My earlier dread has settled into a simmering rage. The more time I have to process what happened, the more I believe this was far from an accident. But I’m left wondering why. Why the hell would anybody want to hurt Alissa? I don’t even see how she could have pissed off the wrong person. She doesn’t have a calculated bone in her body. It makes no sense.

  Either way, if or when my suspicion is proven, I will find out who is responsible and they will fucking pay.

  The sound of the shower shutting off rips me from my dark mood. I try my damnedest not to imagine what she looked like under the hot spray, that sweet body of hers glistening as rivulets of water ran down her delicate skin… The thought has a groan building in my throat.

  I shove aside the need threatening to claim me and pull myself together. Unfortunately, the effort is thrown out the window the moment she steps out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but one of my button-down shirts.

  My cock hardens, lust roaring through my veins. I start at her dainty, bare feet, my eyes traveling up her long, slender legs. The memory of what they used to feel like wrapped around my waist as I drove up inside of her emerges, flooding every part of my mind.

  By the time my gaze works its way up to her face, her cheeks are flushed from my blatant eye-fuck.

  “Thanks for the shirt,” she whispers, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip shyly. I remember what that flesh felt like—tasted like. It sends another dose of need surging through my blood.

  My response is a nod, worried that my voice will betray exactly what I’m feeling. Seeing her in my home and clothes again reminds me of the past. Except back then I would have been in that shower with her. Licking the water from her body and fucking her until she was screaming my name. Everything I lost the moment I walked away from her.

  The cold reminder pushes me to my feet. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”

  Faith made some food earlier but that was hours ago.

  She shakes her head. “I’m okay. Just tired more than anything.”

  “Come on, you can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

  “No. I’ll take the couch,” she argues. “I’ve put you out enough. I’m not going to take your bed from you, too.”

  The guilt edging her voice has me closing the distance between us. She retreats back a step, her eyes widening as I crowd her against the wall.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, you’re here because I want you here. Because I trust no one else to keep you safe. You are not putting me out. Got it?”

  “Christopher…” She shakes her head, the word trailing off her tongue with regret.

  “I’m serious, Alissa. If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have insisted. You can have my bed because I don’t need it anyway.”

  She quirks a brow. “Really? And why is that?”

  “Because I don’t sleep.” The confession slips from me before I can stop it.

  Her expression softens, a million questions reflecting back at me. Before she can ask any, I head to my room, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  Even if I did sleep I wouldn’t while she is here. The last thing I want is a nightmare to plague me. The monster only hides for so long before it surfaces and that’s definitely not something I want her to witness.

  Opening my closet, I grab her an extra blanket, because I know she likes to be warm when she sleeps. At least she used to… I turn around to ask her if she still does but the words become stuck in my throat when I find her holding the framed picture that I keep on top of my dresser of Billy and me.

  A smile graces her face as she stares down at it. “How long ago was this?”

  It takes me a moment to answer, that familiar ache taking up residence inside of me. “Two years ago.”

  “You look so happy,” she muses softly, her finger grazing the glass.

  I was. It was right after Billy and I executed one of the biggest missions of our lives, earning ourselves a medal of honor in the process.

  “Who’s the guy with you?”

  “My best friend,” I answer, surprised to hear how level my voice is despite the emotions threatening to suffocate me.

  “He looks like a lot of fun,” she says.

  “He was.”

  Her eyes snap to mine, smile fading. “Was?”

  “He’s dead.” The pain that’s inflicted upon me from those few words is almost enough to bring me to my knees.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

  Not as sorry as I am.

  Stepping forward, I take the picture from her. “If you need anything let me know. Otherwise, feel free to help yourself. You know where everything is.”

  I turn to walk away but she grabs my arm, stopping me. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay…with me.”

  My blood ignites with heated force, the overwhelming urge to lose myself in her stronger than ever. To remember the good and forget the blood that stains my hands.

  Her gaze drops to the floor at my silence. “I mean, no expectations or anything. I just meant platonically. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. We can do it again.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t.”

  Her eyes lift back to mine, pain flashing in them. “Why?”

  “Because I’ll end up fucking you into the mattress, trying to pretend the last five years haven’t happened, and right now I don’t think things need to get more complicated than they already are.”

  She peers up at me longingly, her breath racing past her pretty pink lips, tempting me with all the things I want but can’t have.

  Unable to stop myself, I reel her in close and press a kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering.

  “Christopher.” My name falls from her on a needy whisper, her fingers gripping my shirt.

  My eyes squeeze shut at the war battling inside of me. Somehow, someway, I restrain myself. “Sleep well, Alissa.”

  With those parting words, I get the hell out of there before I do something I can’t take back. Closing the door behind me, I walk into the living room, dropping down on the couch again. My eyes drift down to the picture clutched tightly in my hand, regret locking in my chest as I remember that day…

  Hidden high in the Syrian mountains, the desert heat blankets us, stifling the air. Sweat drips into my eyes as I lie on my stomach, peering through my scope. Everything is green with night vision since darkness fell long ago.

  We watch.

  We wait.

  “Come on, motherfuckers, where are you?” Billy murmurs anxiously.

  It’s going on eighteen hours of us waiting for our targets, two ISIS leaders who are responsible for the
deaths of six American reporters.

  “Patience,” I tell him. “They know we’re waiting for them.”

  “Well, they gotta leave sometime and it better be soon. Once this mission is done, I get to go home and fuck my wife. I’m damn excited about it.”

  I’ll just bet he is.

  “Check out what she sent me earlier.” He shifts next to me, digging his phone out of his pocket.

  “It better not be naked pictures. As hot as she is, I’d rather not know what you fuck all the time.”

  He grunts. “You know me better than that.”

  I do but I love screwing with him. It never gets old. He’s my best friend, pretty much my only friend. We met in BUD/S and clicked right away. Luckily, we were paired for the same team and haven’t left each other’s sides since. We work well together and I trust no one more to have my back than him. We’ve been there for each other through every battle we’ve faced, both in and out of war zones. I was even the best man at his wedding last summer.

  “Take a look.” He shows me the screen, the dim light revealing a black and white shadowed picture.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “It’s Billy Junior, man. It’s my kid.”

  I look a little closer, my eyes squinting at where he points to a little bean looking thing. “That’s a baby?”

  “Yeah!”

  “He’s as ugly as you.”

  He nails me in the arm. “Fuck you.”

  “I’m kidding. He’s much better looking,” I tell him with a smirk.

  “You’ll see. He’s going to be badass. Just like his old man,” he says, pocketing his phone.

  “So you found out it’s a boy?”

  “Not yet, but I know he will be. I only produce boys.”

  Now it’s my turn to grunt.

  “Guess what we decided to name him?”

  “What?” I ask, looking through my scope again.

  “Billy Junior Christopher Garcia.”

  I tense, my eyes swinging back to his. “Christopher, huh?”

  “Yeah, brother. If he’s going to be the coolest kid around he has to have both of our names.”

  A shift warms my chest as I stare back at him, finding myself speechless.

  “After all, Gina and I want you to be the godfather,” he says, shocking me again. “What do ya say? Will you do it?”

  I swallow past the knot in my throat and finally mange to speak. “Of course I will.”

  He nods. “Good. I need to know that if something ever happens to me you have his back.”

  “Come on. I’d do that even without being the godfather, but you have nothing to worry about. That won’t happen. I won’t let it.”

  “Nor I, brother,” he says, clapping my shoulder. “No one fucks with us or our country and walks away from it.”

  Damn straight.

  “You need to hurry your ass up and get married, too,” he adds. “Then our kids can be brothers like us.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I lost that chance long ago when I walked away from the only girl I’d ever loved.

  “You need to get over her, man,” he says, knowing where my thoughts are.

  He knows all about Alissa. What he doesn’t understand is there’s no getting over someone like her.

  “Or go back and claim her. Otherwise, you’re going to be one miserable son of a bitch for the rest of your life.”

  I’ll be miserable then because there’s no taking back what I did. I lost her and I have no one else to blame but myself.

  Instead of sharing that with him, I switch the subject back to the original topic. “So what are you going to name it if it’s a girl?”

  “It won’t be, but if it is…” He pauses, thinking about it. “Christina Garcia.”

  I smirk. “Nice save. But are you sure you want the junior part if it’s a boy? You don’t want people calling him B.J.”

  He stiffens next to me. “Shit. I never thought about that.”

  “The kid will be ridiculed. Trust me, I saw it happen to my sister.”

  “No one will make fun of my kid, or I will kick their ass.”

  I have no doubt but he can’t always be there. Not with our job.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he continues. “Instead, my son will be named Billy the fucking magnificent Christopher Garcia.”

  Both of us crack into laughter, our eyes moving back to our targets.

  “Let’s face it. He will be cool enough to pull it off; this is my child we’re talking about. He’s going to be awesome.”

  No doubt about it because you don’t get more awesome than Billy.

  I crash back to the present, my eyes and throat on fire as I stare down into his dark eyes. Too bad he will never watch his child grow, and it’s something that will rest solely on my shoulders for the remainder of my life.

  CHAPTER 15

  Alissa

  The distant sound of drumming pulls me from my half attempt at sleep. Checking the time, I see it’s two in the morning. I blink up at the dark ceiling and listen to who I’m assuming is Christopher in the music studio next door.

  Has he even been to sleep yet?

  Earlier, I lay awake for what felt like hours, wishing he had taken me up on my offer to share his bed. The rejection stung but not as much as the pain that entered in his eyes when he told me about his best friend.

  Eventually, the silence and stress of the day pulled me under and I succumbed to sleep…until now.

  I debate whether or not to go to him, unsure if he’ll want my company or prefer his privacy. I hate not knowing. Years ago I would have never questioned it but we aren’t us anymore and haven’t been for a long time.

  The longer I listen to the fast, angry beat, the more it beckons me. Throwing off the covers, I climb out of bed and head out of the guesthouse in my bare feet, tip toeing across the property to the studio.

  The cool night sends goose bumps to dance across my skin, the chilly reminder that I’m still in his button-down shirt. His fabric and scent against my skin is something I have missed. The way his eyes drifted down my body when I walked out of the bathroom told me he did too, that ever present pull between us stronger than ever.

  Placing my hand on the doorknob, I take a deep breath and steel my nerves before entering. The sight I’m met with has my feet stopping in their tracks. In the dimly lit room, I watch as Christopher pounds away on the drums, dressed only in well-worn jeans, his upper bare body slick with sweat.

  I’ve seen this man play every instrument known to man, heard him sing with such emotion that I felt it to the very depths of my soul, but there’s something here that I’ve never felt before from him. It’s not just the strong vibration under my feet or the way his hard body beats down on the piece of equipment.

  It’s powerful—indescribable.

  Desolation, helplessness, and frustration consume the air and twines with the beautiful tempo. It’s so thick it’s suffocating. It reminds me of the pain I witnessed in his room earlier.

  Slowly, I move toward him. His body tenses, sensing my approach, but he never falters from his rhythm. Once I’m close enough, I tentatively reach out and gently place my hand on his hard shoulder, silently seeking assurance it’s okay I’m here.

  Within a few moments, the beat falls silent and quiet fills the air except for his harsh breathing. When he finally looks up at me, a sharp inhale moves swiftly into my lungs, agony ripping through my chest at the misery on his face.

  He looks so lost, so…broken.

  He’s always been damaged due to his past but never like this. There’s a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A stark pain and anger that’s taken up residency inside of him.

  With my heart aching, I move my hand to the side of his face, my thumb brushing over his rough cheek. Warmth blooms inside of me when he leans into my touch.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, my pain for him apparent.

  It may have been a long time since we’ve
been close, but I hope he knows I’m always here. He holds a place in my heart that no one else ever will.

  Even if it’s a place he doesn’t want.

  He stares back at me for a long moment, considering it. I hold my breath, hanging onto hope, but it deflates quickly when he shakes his head.

  With a disappointed nod, I respect his decision and am just about to walk away but he stops me, snagging my wrist.

  He brushes a kiss against my palm then surprises me by pulling me down on his lap.

  My heart begins to palpitate at the feel of his hard, sweaty body beneath me, his rough jeans rubbing against my satin panties.

  Oh god, it’s been so long since I’ve been this close to him.

  He places a stick in each of my hands and brings his mouth to my ear. “Let’s play, baby.”

  I shiver at the low husk of his voice. A smile takes over my face as his hands close over mine and we begin drumming, his skill and grace leading us into a beautiful beat.

  Memories begin to surface as I remember all the times he would do this with me back in high school. Whether it was playing the drums or strumming the guitar, he always took me to a sacred place with him. A place he never shared with anyone else but me.

  We do it for so long that my arms begin to ache, but I don’t care and my smile never deters because this…

  This—is—everything.

  The longer we drum, the more the air accumulates with tension. A tension I feel all the way to my core. My breathing kicks up and blood ignites when I register how hard he is against my bottom.

  Then, everything changes.

  One minute I’m drumming to a beat I could never play on my own then the next I’m flipped around to face him, his fingers digging into my hips possessively. I gasp, my breath racing as I stare back at him.

  Something passes between us.

  A decision.

  A choice.

  No more fighting this.

  “Fuck complicated.” His earlier words fall past his lips then our mouths become one.

  The connection slams into me, sending my heart reeling. Our tongues duel in a beautiful battle, the sound of our passion filling the air as our past ignites.