Rescuing Casey: Delta Force Heroes, Book 7

by Susan Stoker

Truck eased her down and set her on her feet. He and Beatle immediately shrugged off their packs and set them soundlessly on the ground. Then Beatle grabbed her hand and pulled her about twenty feet farther away from where they’d been walking.

  He looked around the area and tugged her down until she was kneeling on the jungle floor.

  “There’s a group of people about a hundred yards to our right. Truck and I are going to go and check them out.”

  Casey grabbed his arm and dug her blunt nails into his skin. “No, don’t leave me here!”

  Beatle took her face in his hands and forced her head up to his. “I’ll be back.”

  Shaking her head violently, Casey pressed her lips together tightly. No, he couldn’t leave her by herself. She’d die out here without him. She had no idea where they were. Couldn’t make it back to Guacalito by herself.

  “Shhhh, sweetheart, listen.”

  But she couldn’t. The panic had risen in her until she couldn’t hear or see anything other than being recaptured and thrown in another hole.

  Then Beatle’s lips were on hers.

  She relaxed into his firm hold and allowed the pleasure of his touch to push back her panic attack.

  Way before she was ready, he pulled away. “I. Will. Be. Back,” he enunciated carefully. “Do you believe me?”

  How could she not? The determination was clear to read in his eyes. But she also saw regret and frustration. He didn’t want to leave her there any more than she wanted to be left. It was that knowledge that gave her the strength to nod and let go of his arms. She sat back on her heels and looked up at him.

  “So fucking strong. Stay here. But if you hear anything, head that way,” Beatle pointed behind her. “Just keep going as quietly as you can. I’ll find you. Hear me? No matter where you go, I’ll find you. Just stay safe. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “You too.”

  He grinned then. “Piece of cake.”

  Then he was gone. One second he’d been squatting in front of her, and the next he’d disappeared.

  Casey blinked. It was as if she’d conjured him in her mind. Was that it? Was she still in that hole and all this was a dream?

  She pinched herself and winced at the pain in her arm. Nope, she wasn’t dreaming.

  She slowly stood and flattened her back against the tree trunk. She’d automatically checked for biting insects before she’d kneeled in the dirt and luckily hadn’t spied any. Taking a deep breath, she tried to moderate her breathing.

  It took a while, but she finally calmed down enough to think a little more clearly. Beatle wasn’t going to leave her. Not when he and his team had gone to such great lengths to find her. She’d overreacted, and she vowed to try not to do that again.

  How long she’d stood there giving herself a pep talk, Casey didn’t know, but it seemed like forever. She knew time was skewed, especially since she was alone. Just when she was about to lose her mind, a scream sounded obscenely loud in the quiet jungle, then was abruptly cut off.

  It sounded as if it was right next to her, and Casey realized whatever was happening was going on way too close. She walked as silently as she could to another tree, and hid behind that trunk. Then she did it again.

  She slowly and carefully made her way from tree to tree in the direction Beatle had told her to go if she felt she was in danger.

  She’d been hiding behind a tree for a minute or two when she heard something to her right. Thinking it was Beatle or Truck, she turned in that direction with a relieved smile.

  But it wasn’t either of the Deltas.

  It was a man she recognized from when she and her students had first been taken.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but the man was too fast. He was standing in front of her with a dirty hand clamped over her lips before a sound could escape.

  Casey looked into his eyes and saw nothing but satisfaction.

  In a heavy Spanish accent, he sneered, “Hola, professor. My boss has some unfinished business with you.”

  Chapter Ten

  Beatle wiped the blood off his KA-BAR knife and looked around for Truck. They’d watched the group of men for a while to see if they were going to be a threat, and realized that yes, they were definitely looking for Casey. It wasn’t obvious if they were the same group that had attacked the other team of Deltas, but ultimately it didn’t matter.

  Through their quiet discussion, it was clear the men were hunting for Casey, and knew they were headed for Volcan Orosi. How the hell they’d known they’d changed course and were headed for the mountain, Beatle didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to let them get their hands on Casey. No fucking way.

  He’d heard them talking about how the boss had promised the reward for whoever captured and brought her back would be to get “first go” at her. She hadn’t been assaulted when she’d been taken the first time, but it was obvious whoever wanted her, had changed their mind.

  Beatle had seen red, and the anger he’d been holding back roared to life. The image of a broken Casey looking up at him with blank eyes haunted him. The kiss they’d shared had been more intense and intimate than anything he’d ever experienced. He hadn’t meant to go all caveman on her, but he couldn’t resist the urge to make sure she knew that even though Truck was the one carrying her, she was his. In every way.

  He’d expected her to resist the over-the-top controlling way he’d taken her, but instead she’d melted in his arms. The hardest thing he’d ever had to do was pull away from her and keep walking, but if she was ever going to be safe, they needed to keep going.

  Hearing the men laughing and joking about how they were going to violate her, and the enjoyment they’d take in her screams and pain, had flicked that deadly switch that existed inside every Special Forces soldier.

  He’d nodded at Truck and they’d split up. They’d taken out two men before another Beatle had approached from behind turned at the last second. He’d been able to let out a bloodcurdling scream before Beatle had thrust his knife into his throat, ending the sound as abruptly as it had begun.

  But the man’s death scream had been enough to warn the others in the hunting party. They’d scattered, and Truck and Beatle had been tracking them down and taking them out one by one ever since.

  But even as he absently wiped the blood off his knife, Beatle was counting. One was missing. He looked around, scanning the jungle for any sign of the missing dead man walking.

  Something made him turn toward where he’d left Casey. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was something deeper, but suddenly he knew without a doubt the man they were hunting had found her.

  A veil of red formed over Beatle’s eyes as he and Truck stalked through the jungle. They were moving as fast as they could while still staying quiet. If he had found Casey, he wouldn’t get far with her. Beatle would track him to the ends of the earth if he had to.

  The sooner he found her, the less chance she’d be violated. Beatle wasn’t sure if the man would be stupid enough to take the time to rape her in the jungle, knowing she wasn’t alone, but if he’d hurt one hair on her head, he’d—

  Beatle’s thoughts cut off midstream when a loud scream echoed through the jungle, startling a few birds and sending them screeching upward. Without consulting Truck, knowing the other man was right on his heels, Beatle gave up all pretense of being stealthy and ran as fast as he could toward the sound.

  Just when he was sure he was going to find Casey flat on her back on the ground, at the mercy of whoever had found her, he burst past a tree into a small clearing.

  “Stop! Don’t get near him!” Casey screamed as soon as she saw them.

  The man from the hunting party was standing between him and Casey, and Beatle wanted to rush up to him and slit his throat, but Casey’s frantic words stopped him in his tracks.

  The first thing he noticed was that she was holding her shirt closed with one hand. It had been ripped from the neck to the hem. He could see flashes of the pale skin of her belly, and it made hi
m want to kill the man in front of her.

  He watched from behind as the man undulated, slapping at his legs as he stood on one foot, then the other. It almost looked as if he and Casey were doing some complicated dance. When he’d shift to the right, Casey would lean to the left. When he stepped to the left, she made sure to take a big step to his right. She was clearly trying to stay out of arm’s reach of the man. She was backed up against a large boulder, making it so she couldn’t easily run away from the man. Beatle was confused, however, about why the man seemed more intent on hopping about than grabbing Casey again.

  Beatle once more saw the fright in Casey’s eyes, and the urge to kill the man who had torn her shirt rose hard and fast. He’d taken another step toward him when Casey yelled again, “No! Get back, Beatle! I mean it. Look.”

  She pointed to the man’s legs.

  Beatle saw what she meant then—and suppressed a shudder at seeing the ants swarming over the man’s pants. Casey couldn’t run away from the man because of the boulder behind her, and even bolting to one side was risky with the way the man was undulating and flailing about. She was trying to keep her eyes on the swarm of ants on the ground to make sure they didn’t get anywhere near her. He figured if he’d been even a couple seconds later she would’ve made her move and gotten around him to flee.

  He motioned to Truck to head to the right, and Beatle went to the left, making a wide circle around the whimpering man. The prospective kidnapper frantically continued to swat at his legs, trying to get the ants off him, but all that did was allow the insects to crawl onto his hands and arms.

  The man suddenly screamed once more and took off running back the way Beatle and Truck had come.

  They made it to Casey at the same time.

  “Are you okay?” Beatle asked urgently.

  Casey nodded, her eyes glued to where the man had disappeared. They could still hear him screaming and crying out in pain, but his cries were fading as he got farther and farther away.

  Beatle put his finger under Casey’s chin and lifted her head. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head, but clutched her tattered shirt harder in her fist. Beatle’s teeth ground together. He needed to examine her and see how much damage that asshole had done, but he needed answers first. “What happened?”

  “I did what you said. When I heard you fighting with the men, I tried to get away from where it sounded like everyone was. But he found me.”

  “I gathered that, Case. What else?”

  “Uh…” She looked down at her feet, then grabbed hold of Beatle with one hand and took a step to the side.

  “Don’t be afraid of me,” he ordered gruffly, confused by her contradictory actions. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Move, Truck,” she said urgently.

  Without asking why, Truck did as she asked, taking a step toward her.

  “Look,” she said, nodding to the jungle floor with her head.

  Beatle looked down—and immediately saw what she was worried about.

  Ants. A swarm of them. They weren’t exactly moving their way, but they were way too close for comfort.

  Making his decision, Beatle swung Casey up into his arms without a word. He took the long way around the clearing and the ants, and headed back to where they’d left their packs.

  He didn’t want Casey to see the aftermath of the lopsided battle, but they did need to collect their supplies. Truck hurried ahead to clear the way of anyone they might’ve missed, but Beatle was fairly certain they’d killed everyone in the hunting party. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more people looking for them, but for now, they were safe.

  Placing Casey back on her feet, Beatle ran his gaze over her. She was still clutching the sides of her shirt together, but there was a bit of color back in her cheeks. “What happened after he grabbed you?” Beatle asked as patiently as he could.

  “He…he kept one hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream and backed me against a tree. He ripped my shirt open and said he…” She stopped and swallowed hard. Beatle had never been as proud of anyone as he was of Casey at that moment.

  “He told me in broken English that he was going to rape me before he brought me to his boss. He was too busy mauling me to pay attention to his surroundings. I…I pushed him and caught him by surprise. I managed to shove him into another tree…and a bullet ant mound.”

  Beatle’s eyes got round. “Those were bullet ants all over him?”

  Casey nodded solemnly. “I haven’t ever seen them in action, but the effect of him falling into their nest was almost immediate. He stood up within seconds, but it was too late. He let go of me when he fell, and I backed into that clearing and got trapped by that big rock. He followed me and was going to assault me, but then the ants started biting him.”

  She shuddered and her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Intellectually, I knew the bites hurt, but I didn’t truly understand how much.”

  Beatle kept his finger under her chin. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and I owe you an apology.”

  Her eyes came into focus and she looked at him in confusion. “For what?”

  “I’ve been treating you like you’re a damsel in distress. Someone who needs rescuing. But I underestimated you. You’ve been through hell, there’s no doubt, but you have more strength running through your veins than I gave you credit for. You were in trouble but instead of giving up, or waiting for me and Truck to rush to your rescue like a helpless female, you used your head and saved yourself.”

  She shook her head, “No, Beatle, I—”

  He moved his hands to her shoulders and interrupted her. “You were able to push the panic back and take stock of your situation. That takes an amazing amount of fortitude, sweetheart. Why do you think most men don’t make it through Delta training? Yeah, many can’t deal with the physical aspects of what they have to do, but it’s more than that. I’ve seen professional soldiers freeze in situations not nearly as scary as what was happening to you. But you were able to think critically and come up with a solution to help you get away. And I should’ve known; you did the same thing in that fucking hole with your bra water filter. You would’ve died if you hadn’t figured out a way to get water. I underestimated you, and I won’t do it again. So, I’m sorry.”

  He could see his words were sinking in. The lost and frightened look eased from her face. She was still stressed and hurting, but the expression of horror over what she’d done was fading.

  He continued. “I also have to admit that I wasn’t sure about how painful that ant’s bite could really be, but I believe you now. You’re officially in charge of scoping out any area we decide to take a break in to make sure it’s free of creepy-crawlies that’ll hurt us. Okay?” He shuddered, thinking about accidentally tying his hammock on a tree covered in the bullet ants.

  “Okay. I can do that,” she said with only a hint of the terror she’d just experienced.

  “Good. Now, will you let me take a look?” Beatle gestured to her chest with his head.

  She stiffened. “I’m okay.”

  “I know this is hard, but I’m not going to cop a feel, sweetheart. I’m not doing this to get my jollies. I need to make sure you don’t need any stitches or antibiotic cream. You know as well as I do that open wounds have a greater chance of being infected here in the jungle.”

  She stared up at him for a beat then dropped her arms.

  Her shirt gaped open down the middle, but still covered her breasts. Moving slowly so as not to startle her, Beatle took hold of one side of her shirt and carefully peeled it back. He swallowed at the perfection of her breast. It was full and soft. They were definitely natural, hanging slightly on her chest instead of sitting unnaturally high, as silicone breasts tended to do. She had a large pink areola topped off with a dark mauve nipple. She turned her head to the side as his fingers brushed over the dark red spots the man’s fingers had made when he’d harshly grabbed her.

  Beatle’s
jaw hardened, but since she didn’t have any open wounds, he carefully covered that breast back up and repeated his inspection on the other side of her chest. Her left looked similar to the right, except for four angry scratches above her nipple. Wishing the man had spent longer sitting in the bullet ant nest, Beatle covered her back up and called for Truck.

  He knew the other Delta had been giving them privacy but Truck immediately appeared beside them. “She okay?”

  “Yeah, mostly just bruises, but he got her with his fingernails. Got the antibiotic cream?”

  Truck nodded and dug into a side pocket of his pack.

  “You guys seriously have everything in there,” Casey said in what Beatle knew was a forced lighthearted tone. She impressed him more and more with every minute he spent in her presence.

  “Yeah well, you never know what you’re going to need on a mission,” Truck told her with a wink. He handed the small tube of cream to his teammate. “We need to get moving,” he said, telling Beatle something he already knew.

  “Give me four minutes,” Beatle told his friend. Truck nodded and disappeared around the tree once more.

  Without a word, Beatle pulled out a wet wipe and began to vigorously clean his hands. When he was done, he placed the used wipe into a pocket on his vest and opened the tube of cream. He squeezed a dollop onto his finger and turned to her. “Ready?” he asked softly.

  Casey nodded and even reached for her ruined shirt herself. She peeled back the material, exposing herself to him.

  The feeling of pride for her strength rose up in Beatle once more. He used his finger to lightly brush against the marks on her skin, coating the scratches with the ointment. The urge to lean forward and kiss her nipple was strong, but he suppressed it. The desire to kiss her there wasn’t necessarily a sexual need. It was more of a tender gesture he ached to make.

  He quickly finished, making sure the wounds were completely covered, then reached for the wet wipe he’d used earlier. He cleaned the rest of the ointment off his fingers before reaching into his pack once more.