Her Devoted HERO (Black Dawn Book 2)

by Caitlyn O'Leary

“One more down at east tent,” Gray said softly. “No sign of any of the Anders. Meet up at the south side of tents.”

  “Affirmative,” Aiden growled. Dalton gave Dex a look, and they headed out of the tent searching for Aiden. He moved toward them. Slowly.

  Dammit!

  Dex searched him and finally saw it. Aiden was favoring his left side.

  “How bad?” Dex asked.

  “I’m a go,” Aiden said through gritted teeth.

  Dex looked at Aiden and took him at his word. He wouldn’t risk their mission for pride.

  When they met up with Gray and the others, they looked at the remaining tents. There was one that was significantly larger than the others with trucks parked in front of the entrance.

  “We’ll start there. Aiden sit this out―”

  Seven sets of eyes turned to the tent on the left of the large one. A beam of light had just flashed across the interior.

  “Dex, you’re with me,” Gray said. “We’re going to shut this shit down. Hunter and Wyatt take the southeast tent. Griff and Dalton take the northwest. Then we’re all going to take the large one. That has to be the Anders’ location. Aiden, keep an overall watch. Notify us if there is a problem.”

  With one forward motion, Gray sent his men into silent action. Dex noted that the flashlight kept bobbing around the tent. Whoever had control of it, sure wasn’t being careful. Maybe they thought they didn’t have to worry since it was three in the morning. But in his opinion, they were stupid. That just meant they needed to be more careful because stupid meant that they were dealing with even more of a wildcard.

  Gray took the right side of the tent, and Dex took the left. As he came to the tent, he heard muffled sounds. His Arabic wasn’t all that great. Hopefully, Gray would be able to understand what was being said. But as he got closer, he realized English was being spoken.

  “Get away from me.” It was a man’s voice.

  “Please, Bill, get up. You’ve got to get up. I have a plan.” It was a woman’s voice.

  It had to be the Mrs. Anders.

  “Bitch, go back to El Mahdy.”

  “I can’t. He’s an animal. He’s not like he was in Cairo. It’s all different now.”

  “What the fuck did you expect? He’s a fucking terrorist!” the man rasped out. “What are you doing, Noreen?”

  “I’m trying to cut the ropes.”

  “I can’t walk. I don’t think I could stand, let alone walk. Where are the girls?”

  “They’re asleep in a tent with the other two women in the camp. I gave them the last of my Ambien. They’ll sleep until morning. You have to help me get the girls and get one of the trucks.”

  “They’ll kill us all. Our only hope is me trading the account passwords for Lottie and Clara’s safe passage out of this hell-hole.”

  “You should never have stuck your nose in my business!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? If I hadn’t of gotten the bank account information, we would be fucked right now, it’s the only leverage we have with your boyfriend.” He said the last word with disdain. “I pray to God we can trade them for our daughter’s lives.”

  “What about me?” the woman’s voice trembled.

  “You literally made your bed, you can lie in it.”

  “Taruk will never let the girls go. He plans to raise them and marry them off when they turn thirteen.”

  “He won’t if he wants the money out of the accounts.”

  There was a click on Dex’s earpiece. “The targets in the northwest tent are eliminated,” Griff reported.

  “Got a situation in our tent,” Hunter said.

  “Sleeping women and children?” Gray asked.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Aiden,” Gray bit out.

  “I’m on it,” Aiden quickly replied.

  “The rest of you surround the main tent. Dex and I have a situation. We found the husband and wife. The husband is injured. The rest of the targets, including El Mahdy, are in the main tent. Take them out.”

  “Turn off the goddamn flashlight!” Anders damn near shouted. What the hell was he thinking, Dex wondered. The last thing he needed to do was wake up the terrorists.

  “I can’t see, I’ll cut you,” Noreen responded.

  As one, Dex and Gray entered the tent.

  “Quiet. Not one more word,” Gray commanded. “He’s right, shut off the flashlight.”

  The bright light fell onto the dirt and illuminated the bloodied, beaten, and naked man who had his wrists tied to his ankles behind his back. It was clear he had been tortured.

  Dex breathed a mental sigh of relief when the woman didn’t speak.

  “We’re going to get you out of here,” Gray said. “Nod if you understand.”

  She nodded.

  Dex pulled out his knife and made quick work of the ropes holding the man. “Don’t move. When you move it’s going to hurt like a motherfucker,” Dex warned him. He grabbed the man’s left arm and slowly rotated his shoulder forward, at the same time massaging his wrist. He gave a low howl of pain.

  Noreen knelt, touching his other shoulder, beginning to gently knead.

  “Don’t fucking touch me!” Dex saw the desperate pain the man was in, but it was clear he would endure the fires of hell before he would let his wife lay hands on him.

  “I didn’t know they would do this to you, Bill. Please let me help you.”

  “Get them ready to go, I’m with the others,” Gray said as he left the tent.

  A shot rang out. Then the unmistakable sound of an AK47 rent the night.

  A man shrieked.

  Dex went to Bill’s legs, assessing as he straightened them. They weren’t broken, but he would definitely need help walking. Depending on the situation, Dex figured it might be easier to just carry him.

  More gunfire.

  “Keep them away from that tent!” Hunter yelled into his mic.

  “I’ve got it covered,” Aiden said calmly.

  Dex smiled grimly. It didn’t matter if he was injured and alone, Aiden O’Malley would make sure nothing and no one would get to those girls.

  Spurts of gunfire sounded, this time closer to their tent. Dex crouched and moved to the entrance, holding his assault rifle up and ready. He peeked out and saw a man behind one of the trucks.

  The man was making his way toward Dex’s location. He lifted his arm throwing something at the same time that Dex shot him in the head. In an instant, Dex estimated the distance between the truck and the tent and realized they were going to be hit hard with debris.

  “Down!” he shouted, as he lunged at the Anders, tackling them. Something big and sharp careened through the side of the canvass.

  “Ahhhhhh,” Bill Anders shrieked. Warm wet covered Dex’s hand.

  Fuck! It was blood. A lot of blood. He pushed up and saw that he might have successfully covered the couple’s heads, but Bill Anders’ legs had been left unprotected. Part of the truck’s windshield was embedded in the man’s upper thigh, near his groin. He was spurting blood. His femoral artery was shooting blood like a geyser.

  “Report.” It was Gray.

  “Anders is hit. It’s bad,” Dex said into his mic as he moved his hand over Anders’ leg. He assessed the situation.

  “Miz Anders, I need your help. I’m going to try to stem the bleeding, you need to remove the glass.”

  Dex reached into the wound on his thigh, finding the bleeder. Mrs. Anders wasn’t moving.

  “Mrs. Anders!” He swung his head around and found the woman staring at her husband. She didn’t seem to in shock, she just wasn’t helping.

  “Goddammit, pull out the glass.”

  She shook her head.

  Blood pulsed through his fingers. He needed to stop it, but he couldn’t apply any sort of tourniquet with the glass in his way. “Mrs. Anders, I need your help.”

  Suddenly, she sprang forward, shoving herself in her husband’s face.

  “You’re going to die, Bill. Tell m
e the passwords.”

  Dex watched as Bill spit saliva and blood into his wife’s face. “Fuck you, Noreen,” he gasped.

  “Tell me,” she screeched.

  “He won’t be able to tell you shit, if you let him die,” Dex ground out. “Pull out the glass.”

  “Bill, if you want help, you’ll tell me the passwords,” she hissed at her husband.

  Dex stared in amazement at the woman who had a mixture of blood and spittle dripping down her face. Was she crazy?

  “Lady, he’s going to die!”

  “Then he better answer quick!”

  Bill turned to Dex. “Save my daughters.”

  “Don’t you dare die,” the woman yelled.

  “Coming in,” Gray said through the earpiece. Dex felt a gust of night air as the tent opened and Gray knelt beside him. He had a tourniquet ready. Dex drew out the glass, and Gray applied it. But it was too late. The blood had stopped pumping.

  Dex put his hand over the man’s open eyes and closed them.

  “What are you doing? Stop that!” Mrs. Anders cried.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Gray said. “He’s dead. We need to get you and your daughters back home.”

  “He can’t be dead. I need the passwords!”

  Her shrill voice made Dex wince.

  “Is she for real?” Gray asked Dex.

  He gave a short nod, then asked. “What’s the status?”

  “We’ve taken out everyone but the women. Including El Mahdy.”

  Behind him, he heard a thud. He turned in time to see Mrs. Anders hitting her husband’s corpse. The woman was fucked in the head.

  “Lady, what are you doing?” Gray demanded.

  “He left me with nothing!” she wailed.

  “What about your daughters? Aren’t you going to ask about them?” Dex demanded

  Her hands went limp against the man’s naked body. Her eyes slid to Gray, and even in the darkness, Dex could see the insincerity. “Are Lottie and Clara okay?” she whispered. “I’d die if something bad happened to them.”

  Gray took his time answering. Finally, he said, his voice laced with contempt, “they’re fine.” He turned to Dex. “Aiden called for an evac. They should be here within the hour.”

  Dex nodded. He heard another thud behind him as she hit her husband’s body one last time.

  Chapter Three

  Dex,

  So, you don’t think that SailorBoy and Poppy would make a cute couple, huh? I don’t know, think about it. We could get matching tattoos. We could get license plates with each other’s handles. I really think you should consider it.

  No?

  Okay. But if you insist on daring me, then expect to get every single piece of Popeye or Aqua man memorabilia that I can find on E-Bay.

  I didn’t realize you were cocky. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s kind of like arrogant, which can be a turn-off. But you were so darned amusing, and nice, so here I am drinking a glass of wine and typing. Yep, almost as bad as drinking and texting.

  Damn! I think I’m in over my head.

  Look, I appreciate hearing that you have friends who’ve made it for the long haul despite the time apart, but they must have something really special. I don’t think I’m built for special. I’m ordinary and complicated. Mundane even.

  Don’t take this as a challenge, just as the truth. Didn’t other women respond to you? I’m sure there are far more suitable matches.

  -Poppy

  It had taken five days to get home after the mission was completed. Five days where Dex had the dichotomy of Noreen Anders and Poppy rolling around in his head. Thank God, she had responded, it helped wash out the vile memories of the repugnant mother.

  After thirty, he had lost count of how many times he read Poppy’s response. It had helped to soothe him when he remembered the look on little Clara Anders’ face when she had sought comfort from her mother and gotten slapped in return.

  Even now, it enraged him to think about it, and was why concentrating on Poppy and the here and now was so important.

  As soon as they’d docked, he’d gotten the hell out of there damn near as quickly as Aiden and Griff. Hell, Dalton still had his mouth open to give him shit about his abrupt departure, but the door had closed too fast.

  He’d composed his response to Poppy while he’d been on the carrier, but he wanted to be in the right headspace so that he could handle her next reply. What’s more, if she didn’t send an e-mail, he wanted to be in San Diego so he could accidentally ‘run into her.’ He’d prefer not to have to hack the dating site, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t meet this woman.

  It was nine o’clock in the evening when he hit his townhome. As soon as he turned on the lights, he chuckled. Not only had Andrea watered his plants, he saw that she had added new ones to his ever-expanding greenhouse. It was her way of making sure that she had reasons to drop by. He prayed that none of them were ‘killing plants.’ Sometimes she would purchase exotics that he couldn’t keep alive if his life depended on it. Those she would take home and triage and not bring back. However, a couple she’d told him never did come back to life.

  He dumped his duffle in the living room and pulled out his laptop and booted it up. He went to the fridge to see what else Andrea might have waiting for him.

  Score!

  There was some Yoo-hoo that wasn’t expired. Seriously, the girl spoiled him. He knew the money came from Gramps, but the thought was from his young cousin.

  What a gem.

  He opened one yellow bottle and took a swig, and snagged a second to take to the couch.

  Now.

  Finally.

  At last.

  “Let’s hope this does this trick,” he said to himself.

  Poppy,

  I’m thirty-two years old. You know that from my profile. I’m old enough to know my own mind and know what and who is suitable. I think you’re funny, complex, and a little bit neurotic. Sorry, Poppy, it fits, and on you Baby, it’s sexy as hell.

  All in all, I would say you suit me down to my bones.

  Tell me what you need from me to keep this correspondence going. What do I have to say? What do I have to do, to make you take a chance on meeting me? I can e-mail over my Navy performance evaluations. Would you like my grandmother to send a letter of recommendation? It might be a little bit biased. What do I need to do, because Poppy, you need to know, I’m interested in the long game.

  -Dex

  Fuck! He sure as hell hoped he was reading her right. But every instinct told him that he needed to keep pushing. That if he backed down, she would just stop responding. Pray God he was right.

  He sucked down the second bottle of Yoo-hoo, and put his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the shower. He needed one.

  ***

  “Get a move on!” Kenna shouted up the stairs. Seriously, that boy had only two speeds lightning or dawdle. Mornings were always dawdle.

  “I can’t find my socks.”

  “Austin, there are eighteen pairs of socks in your drawer, what are you talking about?” Kenna demanded as she headed up the stairs.

  “They’re my lucky socks.” She heard him say from his room. “I have a wrestling match today. I need my lucky socks.”

  “No such thing. You win or lose based on your performance,” she said as she rounded the corner into his room where he was pawing through his sock drawer.

  “Found ‘em,” he grinned up at her as he waved them up in triumph, before shoving them into his gym bag. Kenna shook her head. As he passed her in the doorway, Austin brushed the charm bracelet on her wrist. The one that had the gold four leaf clover charm her dad had given her on her sixteenth birthday. She wore it every day and even tucked it into her pants pocket when she was working.

  “So, Mom, I wonder where I got my superstitious nature from?” He smirked.

  “What a smartass.”

  “Yeah, but I’m your smartass.”

  That he was. What was she going to do
with him?

  “Come on, get the lead out. I’m going to be late for school,” he yelled from the hallway. She stifled a laugh. Was it normal for a mother to get such a kick out of their kid? Kenna shook her head and headed down the stairs where Austin was waiting for her with a grin on his face. He even knew he was entertaining. They grinned at one another and headed out to the car.

  She swung by Denny’s house and picked him up, and then dropped the two teenagers off at the high school. Kenna couldn’t believe that she actually had a son in high school. How in the hell had that happened? She was only thirty-two. Oh yeah, she’d gotten knocked up when she was in high school. She looked at her son’s broad shoulders and wondered if she needed to have another talk with him about safe sex, or if last week’s talk was enough.

  She had just enough time to drive through Starbucks for a skinny latte before her shift started. Kenna mentally geared up for the day. She knew some of the people she would be seeing. Mr. Renfew, Laurie, and Harold would be in for their chemo treatments today. She winced when she thought about Harold. It was Thursday so his son would be bringing him in. That man couldn’t catch a clue even if Colonel Mustard was helping him. How in the hell could she convince him she just wasn’t interested in going out? Just because he drove a Maserati and had more money than a small nation, he thought he was God’s gift to women. Well, he wasn’t. He was a jerk. He treated his dad like crap.

  After she parked her Honda in the staff parking lot, Kenna hit the lobby of the hospital and made her way to the elevators.

  “Hey, Kenna! Wait up.”

  She held the elevator for her friend.

  “Did you get the e-mail I forwarded you? I think he sounded pretty nice, don’t you?”

  Kenna stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but seriously, this guy is different,” Jean said as she pressed the up button. “I’ve been e-mailing him on and off for over a month. I think it’s time to meet him. I wanted your opinion of the last e-mail. Didn’t you read it?”

  “Last night I was at Rosalie’s house.”

  “You’re still doing that gig?”

  This time Kenna did roll her eyes. “Yes, I’m still doing that gig. I work as Rosalie Randall’s personal assistant twice a week and have been doing it for three years. You know that, Jean.”