by Cara Carnes
“I kept thinking I could’ve gotten there ten minutes sooner. Maybe twenty,” Gage said.
Stillness settled in the room. Zoey squeezed his hand as the words he’d just said looped in her mind. She shook her head. “That’s nuts. You saved me. You all saved me. I never doubted you would. He would’ve killed me if you hadn’t gotten there. And freaking Johnny B Goode, I have no idea how you made that shot.”
“HERA. Best damned goddess around,” the man said.
Everyone hoorahed their agreement. Zoey couldn’t help but laugh. They were all nuts.
“I came here as a know-nothing civilian,” Zoey said. I was two parts terrified to three parts enthralled. I have truckloads of notebooks filled with things I’ve learned from Vi and Mary and everyone as I watched what people did in the field. I studied videos they made me watch, just in case I was ever taken. I never thought I’d need them.”
“Fuck,” someone commented from the back.
“I panicked at first. I just wanted out. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Then I knew help was on the way. I wasn’t alone. I knew someone was watching from that damn toy drone because I’d turned it on. I made a woman I think of as a sister watch me go through a hell too like what she’d endured because I was terrified. I hoped the man I loved was watching so he could find me. Then I hated myself so bad. What kind of monster was I to make someone I love go through that? For me?”
“That’s the real shit sandwich,” Jesse commented. He leaned forward until his elbows hit his knees. “I remember the gunfire often. Then the beam of light hit my eyes, and I prayed they’d go away. For a second I wanted to die rather than have men like I’d once been see me covered in my own shit and bleeding from places no man should bleed from.”
God.
Zoey blinked back tears.
“Then the real hell begins,” Gage commented. “Rescue imminent. Then you realize they’ll have to haul your mostly dead, bleeding ass through enemy territory and keep you alive under heavy gunfire.”
“That’s what team and family do,” Dylan said.
One by one the people within the room added comments to the discussion. Some were filled with painful details. Others were vague, but poignant.
“Sometimes they have a team member’s back without question. Other times they avenge a team member without anyone knowing,” Thunder said. “That’s the kind of team member I’d do anything for. Without question.”
“We’ve talked about this a lot in previous sessions, but what about after the dust has settled and you’re home? You’re rescued. What then?” Sinclair asked.
“The real battle begins,” Jesse said.
Zoey tensed.
“You’re safe, but you’re still in survival mode,” someone commented.
“Then one day a sassy vixen with a hairless cat wanders into your life and blows your mind into another dimension,” Gage commented.
Everyone laughed.
Zoey leaned over and kissed him. “I love you, Gage.”
“Love you, too,” he whispered. Then he looked behind them. “Thanks to her and lots of people in this room, I’ve patched up that part of me I’d lost. Sometimes it happens when you least expect it.”
“Even if you aren’t ready,” Jesse whispered. “Sometimes getting patched up makes the hell worse because you can’t ever go back to the way it was. That isn’t ever an option.”
God. Zoey squeezed her eyes shut as the pain in the man’s voice struck her center mass.
“We may not be able to go back, but there’s always another route to happy,” Doctor Sinclair commented. “It’s not always easy, but we don’t do easy around here. Do we?”
The room boomed their responses. Zoey’s heart warmed as she leaned against Gage. Therapy wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d give private sessions a shot after all.
“I’m scared of the water,” Zoey whispered against Gage’s throat. “It terrifies me.”
Gage hugged her tighter and cupped her face. Intensity settled in his gaze. “That’s something I can fight, Little Bit.”
“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow.” Zoey glanced into the bathroom of the small cottage. “Or next century. You know, let’s keep our options open.”
Gage prowled into the room and removed his shirt. She admired the visual feast for a few seconds before realizing it’d been a trap. He wrapped his arms around her and swept her into a kiss so passionate even a dead woman would respond—and she was far from dead when it came to Gage Sanderson.
Kisses turned to strokes and bold massages of flesh as they stripped one another bare. Pleasure coursed through her bloodstream as need knifed downward where his hand cupped her. Tingles danced along her flesh where his other hand caressed, stroked, and teased.
“I love how tactile you are,” she whispered as she writhed herself against his hand. “Gage.”
“I love you more than anything,” Gage whispered in her ear. “Stay wrapped around me, Little Bit, and open your eyes.”
She blinked them open and froze as their location filled her mind. A shower.
No. No. No.
Run.
The demand clawed through her brain, but she was locked tight in Gage’s powerful embrace. His body was between her and any potential wall of water, if it were turned on.
“Look at me, Zoey. Only look at me.” He cupped her face and waited until she complied. “Nothing will ever hurt you again, Little Bit.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No, but I can swear that as long as I’m breathing, I will always be between you and anyone or anything intent on hurting you,” Gage said. “Do you believe me?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to turn the water on, but it’s not going to hit you, okay? Not yet.”
“Okay.”
“Sit back on the bench,” he ordered.
Zoey sat her bare ass on the small seat toward the back of the shower. From the new vantage point her fear of water seemed pretty freaking stupid. Hot, angry tears of shame filled her gaze, but she blinked them away because Gage understood.
He was all-in on vanquishing her fear.
And she was all-in on letting a naked Gage do whatever he wanted.
She admired the long, lean lines of his body and the way his muscles bunched and flexed. The urge to nibble his ass cheek was too tempting. Gage chuckled when she nipped his butt cheek.
“Careful, Little Bit. I’ll bite back.”
Anticipation ignited within her as Gage settled on his knees in front of her. Fear crawled through her throat when she realized he’d turned the water on. She peered up and chased down the long, shiny hose attached to where the showerhead normally was.
She crawled backward on the bench, but Gage took her hand. “Is it hurting you, Zoey?”
“No.” She stared at the water gushing from the showerhead and almost hitting her. How the heck was it getting to her all the way down here? Was the drain clogged? What if the water rose and drowned them both? Her sides hurt.
“Breathe, Little Bit. Deep breaths.” He took her hand. “Here. We’ll start slow, then stop whenever you want, okay?”
She nodded.
“You can wash me first,” he offered.
Her heart thudded wildly. She really liked the idea of sudsing Gage up. Her hand trembled as he wrapped her fingers around the grip.
“You’re in complete control of the water, Little Bit. It can’t ever hurt you because it does whatever you wish.” He guided her hand with the showerhead forward until the stream struck his wide, muscled chest.
Her mouth dried as she reached out and ran her hand across his chest and beneath the water as it streamed downward. Inch by inch, she navigated her way along his body. She leaned forward and tasted his flesh. Heat spread through her like an out of control brushfire when they kissed.
“My turn,” he whispered as he took the showerhead from her. “Lean back for me, Zoey.”
Water struck her belly the moment she leaned her head back, but the clasp of Gage�
��s mouth on her nipple demanded her attention.
It’s just water.
The thought looped in her mind as she moaned and writhed against Gage. He stroked, caressed, and tasted his way down her body. The water remained, moving downward along with his mouth.
“Gage,” she pled. “I need you.”
He growled and claimed her mouth. Shock startled a gasp from her as he hoisted her off the small bench and slowly lowered her down. Inch by slow, thick inch he filled her. Her entire awareness locked in on the sensuous glide of his thick, long cock into her.
Hands on her hips, he placed her back against the back wall of the shower and fucked her. There was no other word to describe the powerful thrusts into her or the way he held her in place.
Protected.
Possessed.
His.
Then he shifted his grip so her legs were higher and the thrusts went even deeper. A feral growl rumbled from her throat as the pleasure exploded from her. She hung within his grip as he powered into her and surrendered to his own release.
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he said as he kissed her.
“Me? You’re the one who…then you…” She blinked. The ability to form words escaped her. “Wow. That’s what I call therapy. I might require daily sessions.”
“Daily? I was thinking hourly,” he teased.
Zoey smiled. “You’re one hell of a commando, Sanderson.”
“You’re one hell of a gorgeous geek, Little Bit.”
Epilogue
One week later…
Gage entered a war zone.
It was the only way to describe the living room of Momma Mason’s house. Boxes of stuff were everywhere. Zoey, Addy, Bree, Rhea, Riley, Kamren, Vi, and Mary were all standing in a circle around…Ellie.
The small woman in the center of the huddle wasn’t what he’d expected. He crossed his arms and stood beside Jud. Marcus, Fallon, Doug, Pierce, and Ramon were all present.
“What is this?”
“No fucking clue. Got a text from Vi saying they needed bodies. Here we are.”
Huh. Gage had gotten pretty much the same text from Zoey.
“Okay, we’re going to make this quick because the home healthcare people will be here any minute. We’re Momma-proofing this house while the Mason brood is away. Otherwise it’ll never get done.” Ellie winced. “Sorry, Riley, but you know what I mean. Those brothers of yours are gonna coddle the woman to death. She doesn’t need that.”
“They already have a schedule,” Riley whispered as red crawled up her face.
“A schedule?” Marcus asked.
“Momma Mason’s mobility will be limited for a while. I doubt they’ll do the surgery anytime soon ’cause they’ll want the rest of her injuries to heal up a bit first,” Ellie said.
“That’s almost word for word what the doc said,” Mary admitted with a narrowed gaze. “How did you know?”
“I’ve dealt with it before,” the woman replied. “Here’s the deal. She can’t navigate the stairs for a while, which relegates her to the lower levels. Home healthcare’s gonna want to slam a bed in the living room and call it done. That is not acceptable.”
“Why not?” Fallon looked around. “Shove the sofa against that wall, move the TV back a bit, and there’s plenty of room.”
“And she’s the focal point. More specifically, the fact that she’s in a bed rather than flitting about is the focal point. That’s not Momma Mason,” Ellie said. “We’re getting this sorted. First things first, you guys get the formal dining table set out of the dining room. It’s now a bedroom. The Masons haven’t sat there and had dinner since their dad died. That was his mom’s furniture. Someone’s gotta rip that bandage off, and that someone’s me.”
“Ellie, maybe we should wait until Marshall gets home. Let me text him.” Riley reached into her pocket.
“You know I’m right. You can’t tell me your mom and brothers don’t look into that room thinking it’s the worst damn reminder of what they lost,” Ellie whispered. “You use the table in the nook or you eat in here. No one’s been in that room in years.”
“Turning it into a bedroom won’t make it any better,” Doug said.
“Maybe not. But we’re doing more. We’re opening up a connection to the kitchen and installing a sliding door. That way the space will be usable for Momma’s entertaining when she’s ready.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Bree whispered.
“Then they’ll undo it when they get home. For now, we’re getting this sorted. There’s room for the table and chairs in the unused meeting space behind reception. Put it there for now. We’ll decide what to do with it later.”
A knock sounded on the door. Surprise filled the room as one of Brant Burton’s brothers entered. Gage had seen him around the compound working on some of the small cottages.
“Great, thanks for making it over so early, Chad. You know what to do?”
“Yeah. Uh, is Jesse or Nolan here?” the man asked hesitantly as he looked back at the porch where several men stood.
“No, that’s the point. I want all this done for them so they don’t have to sit on the sofa and watch their mother wither away to nothing thinking she’ll never be the same. If she comes into this house being carried like an invalid, that’s how she’ll eventually see herself. They’ll make her believe it every time they have to haul her to the bathroom to pee. Every time they have to wipe her ass until her injuries are healed.” Ellie’s voice hiked. “That’s not happening to the strongest woman they’ve ever known. She is their heart and soul. She’s coming home armed to be the strong mother they know, even when she’s been knocked down. And you’re gonna help me do that. Now get to work before you piss me off. The next person to ask if one of the Mason men is here is getting an ass full of buckshot.”
Gage chuckled.
The woman was clearly on a mission. He watched the ripple effect of her lecture fill the women’s gazes. The Pentagon was one hundred percent behind the plan, whatever it was. Riley’s gaze was filled with tears.
“She’s gonna be okay, Riles,” Ellie promised.
Gage motioned to the other men and got to work hauling the most gorgeous piece of furniture he’d ever seen out. The room was a dust graveyard. The woman hadn’t lied. No one had entered this room in a long, long time.
He hoped to hell she was making the right decision.
Zoey sat on a sofa and looked about the new space. It was…perfection.
Ellie had transformed the living room into a wide-open area, temporarily divided by two large folding screens with picture frames mounted within the folds. It’d taken the women a while, but they’d managed to house all the pictures within albums Riley had dragged out into the holes.
Now the divider separating what would temporarily be Momma Mason’s bedroom and the living room was a memory wall on both sides. Sheer genius. Even if she was in the room, she could look on the “wall” and see the wonderful life she’d led.
Every image was a reason to continue the fight. Ellie’s words haunted Zoey. Something deep had impacted the woman. She knew too much about caring for someone hurt.
No one asked.
Burton Construction had redone the upstairs master bath and the hall bathroom upstairs and had created a new bathroom in a corner of what’d once been the massive, unused dining room. The downstairs room now had a wheelchair accessible sink and a walk-in shower with bench-seating along the back.
The two bathtubs upstairs were now walk-ins as well. Hand rails were on the walls near all the toilets, bathtubs, and showers. Ellie hadn’t let them leave until she’d tested each one. They’d had to adjust two she’d said were “too far away for a shorter, older woman’s grip.”
How would she know?
The thought haunted Zoey, but the work was done and now everyone was in a silent hovering pattern because Mary had whispered into the unusual quiet that the Mason men were coming home. Visiting hours were over, and they’d been unceremo
niously shoved out of Nomad Memorial with a curt order to rest.
It’d been a long week of the Mason brood keeping their mom company at the hospital. Things at The Arsenal had shifted into downtime.
Recovery mode.
Ellie, Kamren, and Riley were in the kitchen fixing dinner. Darkness was descending outside. The boys were playing in the one area in the home now designated as the “Arena.” Ellie had explained to the boys they had to keep their toys in that area only until their grandma was better.
“Let’s go sit outside,” Zoey suggested to Gage.
He chuckled. “You want to waylay them when they arrive.”
“Damn straight,” she said as she stood. “She means well, and you have to admit the new layout and design is perfect.”
“It is,” he said, concern evident in his voice. “She’s cared for someone who was hurt like this before.”
Zoey’s lips thinned. “She won’t talk about it. No one will ask.”
“When it’s time, she will.” He cupped her face. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She kissed him. Awareness tingled beneath her skin.
She got lost in the kiss as he guided her to a seat on the bench nearest the door. Amusement rose from behind them.
“Don’t you have rooms you can do that in?” Cord asked.
She vaulted to standing and lunged for the Masons as they stepped onto the porch.
Marshall swiped his hand over his face. “Please tell me the home healthcare people came by and deposited the stuff. Mom’s likely being discharged tomorrow. I have no idea how. Her last vascular surgery was yesterday. They still haven’t repaired her hip.”
“Logan warned us it’d happen quickly. Hospitals don’t like to keep patients around for long unless insurance will cover it,” Nolan muttered, his disgust evident. “We can always put her in medical if necessary, but she won’t like that.”
“We’ll get it all set up tomorrow morning,” Dylan said. “I’m exhausted.”
“Yeah, so, about that.” Zoey danced from foot to foot as their gazes settled on her. She’d realized she was probably the safest to deliver the message they needed to receive because she was pretty pathetic looking with her cue-ball head and battered face. The bruising had entered the ugly stage where the outside edges were fading into soft yellows and pale greens.
