by J. B. Havens
He crushed me to his chest and his mouth devoured mine. His tears still fell, slicking our kiss with salt and sorrow. I kissed his pain away and fell back on the bed. The time of loss was over; this was our chance. A new life was upon us and I was determined to make the most of it. Together.
Chapter 24
Rook hung up with Nickoli and tossed his phone on the bed. Being back here was like nothing he had expected. They’d accomplished what they’d set out to do. Nickoli and his men would make sure the aftermath was wrapped up as best they could. The police would have no choice but to prosecute Yusef and his men, but Rook knew better than most—this was a temporary fix. Things would be quiet for a while, then a new organization would step up to fill the hole left by Yusef.
They needed to rest; they would be taking off for London soon. An hour nap sounded great right now. Stripping down to his boxers, Rook fell back onto the bed. Stacking his hands behind his head, he tried to clear his mind and relax. Swiping open his music app, he put it on shuffle and placed it on the nightstand.
He always had trouble sleeping, if he was in a bed anyway. Out in the field, on a mission where the stakes were high, you didn’t have much time to reflect. You slept when and where you could. It was when he was back in the civilized world that his mind refused to let him rest.
Absentmindedly running his tongue through the gap in his teeth, he thought back to the night he’d lost them. Mic was right in her assumption, a hammer and chisel had knocked them out. Time seemed to slow, then stop, as he relived the events of that night.
The pain had been bad enough, but the sound had been the worst. The crack of the hammer, then sharp jerk and ringing he’d experienced all throughout his face and head. His jaw had felt like a tuning fork.
It had happened here, in Russia. In the basement of a club in Moscow. The thumping base of techno above had covered the sounds from below. He’d been undercover, trying to infiltrate a gang responsible for running weapons and drugs. The mob wanted them gone, so instead of starting a war, they worked together with the police to get rid of them. They had succeeded, but the price had been high.
His favorite song by Imagine Dragons came on. Demons spoke to his soul, to his hidden past and unspoken truths. It jerked him back to the present, the shadows of his past evaporating around him. Glancing at the clock, he saw that nearly two hours had passed since he’d laid down. Fuck.
Was it time? He thought to himself. They’d been through so much recently, between Mexico and now the events here. In the space of a few weeks, they’d saved each other; and then Steel had been fractured apart, only to reunite stronger than before.
A new Steel was being born and he was damned if he wasn’t going to be part of it.
Rising to his feet and stepping back into his jeans, but foregoing his shirt, Rook left the room. Running his hand over his rib and the scar there, he stepped away from his past and toward his future.
****
Coffee in one hand, bagel in the other, we were gathered in the kitchen getting ready to leave for the airport. Rook was the only one not down here yet.
“Does everyone have a British passport?” I mumbled around a mouthful of bagel.
Pierce stirred his coffee, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, once we get to London, what then?”
“How do you guys feel about staying in the UK or in Europe?”
“Really? I could dig that.” Flynn scratched his stomach, reaching for the now empty pot of coffee. He snarled at Pierce. “Really dick? You took the last of it and couldn’t make more?”
His buddy shrugged, “Sorry.”
“Why Europe, Mic?” Jones tipped his hat back, his usual signal that he was going to actually participate in the conversation.
“Why not? It’s not too different from living in the states and we have friends there.”
“A better question is, where in Europe? It’s a big fucking place.” Jordon kissed my cheek and tried to swipe my coffee.
“Leave off, asshat, that’s mine.” I pushed him away and then turned back to the original conversation. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“What would we do there? Wherever we decide to plant ourselves, that is,” Rook inquired, joining us in the kitchen. My eyebrows raised at his appearance. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which wasn’t all that unusual for the others, but Rook kept one on even when sparring.
“Well, I figured we have a few choices. Security or the like. This is something we all have to decide together. There’s also nothing that says we have to stick together. If any of you want to go somewhere else, you can. I’m not your NCO anymore.”
“Fuck off,” Jones snapped, surprising us all. “We stick together. End of discussion.”
The others murmured and nodded their agreement.
Rook was running his fingers over a large, curved scar on his side. “Um, before we leave, I want to talk to all of you.”
I made a gesture that he had the floor. “Go ahead, you’ve got our attention.”
“I think it’s only fair that you guys know about me—about how I got here and what happened while I was in Russia.” Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at his feet, he continued. “I was undercover, working with men like Anton. That’s how I knew him and why Yusef thought I looked familiar. I’d met them before. There was a gang that was growing rapidly, running guns and drugs. Yusef was pissed they were stealing his business. My job was to get into the gang and help Yusef and the cops take it out. Standard stuff, right?”
“Rook, you don’t have to tell us shit. You’re one of us. Period.” I was serious; I didn’t really care what came out of his mouth.
“Will you just shut up and listen?”
Doing as instructed, I waved at him to proceed, not at all insulted by him snapping at me.
“Like most gangs, there was an initiation. I’d been through this before in other countries so I wasn’t too worried at first. We were in the basement of a nightclub in Moscow—a real shitty place. They used it as a front for moving drugs—cocaine mostly. Anyway, I thought I’d have to take a beating or something. No big deal.” He shrugged as if willingly being beaten was a normal everyday occurrence. “Instead, Anton brought a girl in. She was stunning in her youth, long dark hair and gorgeous eyes.”
Pausing, Rook inhaled deeply, fingering the scar low on his ribs.
“I was told…” Another breath. “… told that I would have to rape her. Then kill her. If I didn’t, they’d do it for me and give me a beating. Best case—I’d be blinded or something, but most likely, I’d be killed as well.”
Gasping in shock and anger, I took a second to look at his scar. It was long and straight, curving along his side to just below his last rib. A knife wound and a bad one, at that.
“I hesitated too long or something. Everything was chaos all at once. That fucking sadist Anton punched her in the face, over and over. I fought as hard as I could, but I was alone, surrounded by ten men who were all taking turns beating on me. The gang leader grabbed me. I was barely conscious at this point. My eyes were swelling shut, ribs were broken, the works. He shoved me to my knees and held a knife to my side… while… Anton fucking raped her. I lunged and tried to help her, but the leader stabbed me, sliced me open. They held me down and knocked my teeth out with a hammer and chisel, just like you thought, Mic.” Rook ran his finger along the scar, back to front, as if his hand was the knife blade.
“Fucking bastards,” Flynn snarled.
“I would have been dead if Nickoli and his men hadn’t broken down the door right then. The mission was considered a success. The gang went to prison. Nickoli saved my life. But the girl… Anton slit her throat and ran. He got away.” His eyes swelled with tears that he refused to let fall. “S-she wasn’t just a girl, a stranger. I loved her. And I let her die in front of me. Nickoli blames himself for it all, because he was late. If he’d gotten there sooner, maybe she’d be alive. I know that’s crap. It would have ended the same way or worse. If it was anyon
e’s fault, it was mine, not Nickoli’s. I still don’t know how they found out about us.” He didn’t speak her name nor did he need to. His pain was plain to see; her name would only make the burn worse.
I knew survivor’s guilt when I saw it. The sudden execution of Anton made sense now. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I could have done more.” Rook snarled, rage darkening his features.
“Shut the fuck up, dude.” Pierce clasped Rook on the shoulder, drawing him into a man-hug, slapping him on the back before letting go again. “No, you couldn’t have. What, did you think that we would think less of you? We’ve all lost people in combat and on missions. You can’t save them all.”
“I couldn’t go forward with Steel, until I told you the truth. You need to know that I failed her, a girl I deeply cared for.”
Jordon shook Rook’s hand, a palm grasping his forearm. “What truth? That you have regrets? That you lost someone? That you’re fucking human with a conscience? If anything else, this makes you more of a member of Steel, not less.”
“Rook, dude…” Flynn couldn’t say more; he was swallowing hard. He took his turn shaking Rook’s hand, pulling the larger man forward into a back-slapping hug.
“Rook, I know too what it’s like to live with something like that. I watched my CO die in front of me, his body ripped apart by bullets. Even though I know it wasn’t my fault, I blame myself for it—for living when he died. The pain doesn’t go away, but it becomes bearable.” I checked my watch, not waiting for Rook’s response. “Time to go, ladies; we’ve got a plane to catch. Roll out.” After throwing my cup in the trash and heading into the garage. I tossed my bag into the back of the SUV and climbed in the rear seat. We’d leave Anton’s van here. Nickoli had said they would deal with it.
Flynn slid into the driver’s seat, cell phone against his ear. He was snarling and snapping to whoever he was talking to. “Listen, just get it ready. We’re on our way.” He paused, his frown progressing to a glower. “I will do it. I don’t need your fucking help, woman.”
Jordon opened the opposite door, holding the seat up for Jones to climb into the back. Locking the seat back into place, Jordon took the middle beside me, with Pierce sitting on his other side. Rook got in the front, still pulling on his shirt and jacket, and we waited.
“I don’t give a shit if you’re retired Navy! It’s my fucking jet! I’ve slept and I’m fucking flying it.” Flynn was getting angrier by the second. I tapped my fingers on my leg, ready to get moving, but he hadn’t even started the freaking vehicle yet.
A heavy sigh from behind me pushed me into action. Smack. I slapped Flynn on the back of the head. He dropped the phone onto the floor and whipped around, glaring. I crossed my arms and arched a brow. “You can argue with your girlfriend later. Right now, get us out of the fucking garage.”
Pierce was laughing his ass off and even Rook graced us with a smile.
“I’m surprised you like older women, Flynn,” Jones said, joining in on the Flynn roast. “Didn’t know cougars were your thing,”
“Fuck you guys.” He felt around the floor for his phone and finally finding it, hung up on a still bitching Red. He then did as ordered—got them of the garage and on the way to the airport.
Chapter 25
We left Russia as quietly as we’d arrived. The flight to London was broken up only by the bitching and arguing of Flynn and Red. I had a serious bone to pick with Liam when we saw him. He was going to pick us up at the airport and get us a hotel.
I stuck my head in the cabin. Red was in the pilot’s chair and a remarkably calm Flynn was her co-pilot. Red had surprised us all when she’d confronted him at Bykovo Airport.
“I don’t know what your fucking problem with me is, but we’re going to settle this shit right fucking now, asshole.” She was inches from his face, her voice low and sharp. I hadn’t realized until that moment that she was the same height as him.
“Fine. Bring it, bitch.” Flynn crossed his arms and waited.
Jordon moved to get between them, but I stopped him with an arm across his chest. “No, let them do it,” I ordered. “They need to hash this out here and now.”
Red’s eyes flashed with anger. “I was a Navy pilot; I know what I’m fucking doing. I’ve been flying jets, choppers, and pretty much fucking everything else since before you were potty-trained, boy. I came here as a favor to Liam. I do not and will not fucking answer to you.” She flung her arm to the side, pointing at me. “Her, I will listen to, because she’s not a spoiled little child. You think you can do better than me? Fine, show me.” She fell back into a defensive stance, ready to fight.
Flynn scoffed at her. “I’m not fighting an old lady.”
“Coward. And I’m not old. You’re just a babe-in-the-woods.”
Calls of ‘Oohhh, burn…’ spilled from the men around me. I cut them off with a slash of a hand.
“Fuck you, bitch.” Flynn charged. He was fast, strong, and very well-trained. I didn’t have much hope for Red.
She surprised us all, side-stepping him at the last second, grabbing his arm by the wrist and upper arm, and spinning around. Twisting his arm up and behind him, she kicked him in the back of the knee and dropped him to the cold ground.
Flynn reached behind him with his free arm and grabbed her leg, jerking hard, making her fall on her ass. He spun so he was on top, his back to her chest, and she took advantage and slipped him into a choke-hold. She hooked her legs around his, controlling his upper and lower body.
She had him right where she wanted him. She was choking him out; his struggles were slowing as his oxygen-starved brain began to shut down.
When he tapped her arm twice, she released him and shoved him off her and to the side. He was on his hands and knees, coughing and trying to gather his dignity.
“Okay, you can fly,” he gasped out.
Reaching down, she grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet. “Good idea.”
“Well, Liam was right. Almost…” I muttered.
Red looked at me curiously. “What?”
“He said if Flynn got to you, you’d rip his head off and play footie with it. You were almost there.”
Her full-throated husky laugh was contagious. Within minutes, we were all laughing and following her onto the jet—even Flynn.
“ETA?” I drew their attention from the passing clouds.
“Thirty,” they answered in unison.
“Works for me; I’ll wake everyone up.”
Now that the excitement was over and we’d gotten out of Russia intact, the guys had all crashed. The short nap at the safe house hadn’t done much to revive them. Jones had his hat tipped down over his face, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. It didn’t seem to bother the others too much, though. Pierce and Rook simply had their heads tipped back and eyes shut. I knew they could go from a dead sleep to ready-to-kill in seconds.
Jordon had raised the arm of one of the seats and stretched his legs out, propping his back against the side of the jet. As I watched, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile, even though he was still sound asleep.
Kneeling on the floor beside his seat, I debated how to wake him. It’s always risky waking a military man—I could end up getting punched in the face or just glared at.
“Chris.”
Nothing. Just that smile and deep, relaxed breathing.
“Jordon, wake up.”
His hand twitched, but nothing else. Moving closer to his feet, I figured I was safest there. I grabbed his ankle just above his boot and shook him slightly. He grunted and jerked his leg away from me.
Taking a firmer grip, I shook his whole leg. “Chris, you have to wake up.”
“Go away,” he mumbled under his breath, kicking his leg from my grasp.
I decided to have a bit of fun. I kept my hand on his leg, running it up his calf and thigh. The muscles flexed under my palm; even in his sleep he was ready to spring into action. Slowly, I dipped my hand down the inside of his th
igh and reached higher.
I squeezed gently and his eyes popped open, their green depths blazing to life with sensual heat.
“There are other ways to wake me that won’t require me to stand up sporting a hard-on, woman,” he growled.
Not moving my hand, I gave him all the answers he needed. I took a firmer grip and smiled—the sort of smile that every woman, no matter who she is, has hidden. The secret self-satisfied grin that means she’s got her man exactly where she wants him, and she’s thinking of doing deliciously dark things to him.
“This is more fun…”
He swung his legs around and sat up all in one motion, so I was kneeling between his legs. He leaned back on his elbows and stared down at me with a cocky grin that flashed his dimples.
“Well… now what, baby?”
He was calling my bluff and knew it. I wasn’t going to blow him two feet from where our team was sleeping. But I was determined to salvage this in my favor.
Flattening my palms against his thighs, I leaned forward slightly and reached up higher, slipping my hands underneath his shirt. His skin was hot against my palms and his breathing hitched slightly. The little chest hair he had rubbed against my hands as I inched my way upward.
My movements had brought me closer and now my stomach was pressed to his groin. Warmth and hardness greeted me; I pushed in closer, rubbing myself against him. His shirt had ridden up, letting my eyes enjoy what my hands were touching—firm golden skin, decorated with the thick black ink of his tattoos. I could see the pulse in his neck beating faster. He licked his lips, leaning down to me.
Abruptly, I stood and retrieved my hands. Tugging the hem of my own shirt down from where it had ridden up, I blew him a kiss and then sauntered down the aisle to wake Pierce, Rook, and Jones.
