by Dawn Ryder
“Your knees look a little unsteady, Magnus.”
Bram lifted one foot off the ground and sent a kick toward Dare. It was crotch level, perfectly executed, and controlled so that he stopped just a couple of inches shy of the target.
Dare snickered at him and shrugged.
“I don’t need a wingman.” Bram joined Dare in the shadows.
“Saxon Hale didn’t ask for your opinion,” Dare replied as they walked across the lawn toward a car. “You might have noticed he’s the team leader.”
Bram opened the passenger side door and got into the car as Dare slid behind the wheel and turned the key.
Dare looked over at him. “The Raven is dead but Tyler Martin and Carl Davis are very much alive and looking for retribution.”
Dare looked at the traffic as he pulled the car away from the curb.
“One could hope Tyler and Carl have learned their lesson to leave the Hale brothers alone.”
“Don’t count on it,” Dare replied. “Tyler Martin sold us out for his position with Carl Davis. Tyler isn’t going to leave a loose end like us dangling.”
“Saxon Hale’s Shadow Ops team is more than a loose end,” Bram remarked. “We’ve kicked Martin’s ass three times now.”
“All the more reason for Saxon to send me along to sidekick around with you.” Dare made a turn and headed for the interstate on ramp. “Real shame about your cheerleader girlfriend there.”
Bram only shrugged and looked out the window.
“The sister though…”
Bram snapped his head around and held a finger up in warning.
Dare Servant ignored it.
“A little bit of a dick move there on the side of the house…”
“I know that,” Bram said with a grunt.
“Still, it looked like it worked out in the end. She knows how to make a move.” Dare let out a low whistle. “Wouldn’t have guessed that by the way she takes care of that old man.”
“You sound like more of a dick than me,” Bram said. “There’s nothing wrong with being devoted to family.”
“You’re doing your best to run away from yours.”
Bram glared at his fellow agent. Even with his attention on the traffic, Dare noticed.
“Just calling what I see,” Dare said. “You’re playing with our teams because it gets you out from under Daddy’s shadow.”
“There’s more than one way to do that,” Bram said to defend himself.
“Right,” Dare responded back. “Like taking another tour in Afghanistan?”
“Kagan hasn’t offered me a badge,” Bram said. “I was there in New Orleans with you and the Hale brothers going against the Raven. Don’t expect me to sit around waiting for a formal position to be offered. I’ve given Kagan a nice long sample of what worth I bring to his Shadow Ops teams.”
“No argument,” Dare replied seriously. “Which is why you have a wingman.” He cut Bram a look. “Don’t want you to get waxed because Tyler knows your habits and decides to lay you out in the city morgue to make sure the rest of the team knows he’s still coming for us. Or even just to let us know he’s watching. He’s that sort of a prick.”
Bram took the reprimand. He’d stepped right back out into the light and he knew better. Dare was politely reminding him that he couldn’t sit on the fence. Shadow Ops teams weren’t for weekend warriors. He’d played the game. He’d been dabbling his fingers in the murky underworld of classified missions since he’d come face-to-face with Saxon Hale when the man was assigned to investigate Bram’s family.
It was an odd arrangement, to be sure, and maybe part of Kagan’s hesitation in offering him a badge was due to the fact that Bram hadn’t made it clear what side he wanted to be on.
Army or Shadow Ops.
He wanted the badge. But it meant choosing a life that was separated from the one he’d known. It didn’t mean he couldn’t have happiness. Saxon Hale had a wife, as did Vitus Hale. Both married women they’d met through missions. Hell, his own sister was married to a Shadow Ops agent.
But they’d followed their men into the world of changed names and no contact with their previous life. For the Hale brothers, their wives had already been victims of fate. Their choices stolen by circumstance and underworld thugs like the Raven.
Bram should never have gone back to the Sondors house. Dare was right but it was Jaelyn’s words that stung. She’d called it right on the money. He’d gone there looking for a taste of home.
That fabled thing deployed soldiers dreamed about when they’d been scared so long it felt normal.
He’d wanted to see Jaelyn making her grandfather’s coffee and wearing an apron that made her look like a prude when she was anything but. And maybe, just maybe he’d been daring her to tell him off for the way he was playing games with her sister, LeAnn.
He grinned. She’d done that. sure enough.
Dare let out a grunt. “Don’t look like that, Bram.” The Shadow Ops agent sent him a long look. “I like having you on the team. Don’t go getting attached to a woman.”
“She left me in the yard.”
“I noticed.” Dare pulled into the parking lot of a house. It was quiet and normal looking. Just the kind of place Shadow teams liked to use as operation centers. “Let her go. Kagan will offer a badge soon enough.”
Inside the house two junior agents were working at computers. They looked up and nodded as Dare entered. He was their team leader at the moment. Kagan was giving Dare a little room to stretch his wings. It was touching in a way, because five paces into the living room Bram realized Dare had set them to tracking him—
To watch his back when he’d been too stupid to realize he was crossing back into the open. His relationship with LeAnn was something that could be traced.
Stupid.
Sure was.
And yet, as he finished showering and lay down on a bed in one of the rooms, he just couldn’t quite swallow the idea of never going back.
He needed to.
He pulled a picture from his wallet and looked at it for a long time.
He was a dumb ass. Shit for brains.
The picture was of LeAnn and Jaelyn. He’d never taken the time to contemplate why he was carrying around both of them.
He should have.
LeAnn might be fine with an open relationship but Jaelyn had been right about her grandfather and the way Bram had been showing up to get a taste of normalcy. Milton Sondors was crusty and happy-go-lucky all the time. It was kind of nauseating in that way a sweet old man could be. Damn if it didn’t tickle Bram to be around him.
Yeah, well, that was an excuse to be around Jaelyn, too.
He realized the truth as he forced himself to put the picture on the side table.
He’d been drawn to her.
He was taken in by her dedication to her family, which might be confused with being subservient by someone dim enough not to see that she was the backbone of the family.
He needed to leave her behind. Let some guy who hadn’t gone off and played dangerous games find her. He needed to leave the picture behind when he left in the morning.
* * *
Mexico …
“I want out of here.”
The guard only gave him a bored look. Rick Sullivan smiled at him. “Fine. Just thought you were the type of man who would like to profit from an opportunity. One I can make for the right man. A friend.”
“What opportunity do you speak of?”
Ricky moved closer to the man. “You could make a lot of money betting against me in the next fight.”
The guard’s eyes narrowed as he caught on. “With your record, the odds are very much in your favor.”
“Every man loses once in a while,” Ricky said. “Law of mathematics. At least, that would be how you explain the fact that you bet against me, when everyone knows my record.”
The guard was considering it. Rick enjoyed watching the way the guy rolled it around his brain. Hell, Ricky just loved knowing
he was dicking around with the man’s principles. Some people were so damned much fun to mess with.
“It would be very hard to get you out of prison. Yours is a sentence of life.”
“So, I’ll make sure I don’t lose until I’m bloody enough to be taken down to the doctor. Share a little of your winnings with him and slip me out with the dead. I won’t stick around for anyone to know I’m still alive.”
The guard was weighing his options. He just might toss Ricky in the hot oven in the middle of the yard during the afternoon heat, but it was a risk worth taking. But messing with him, when there were plenty of other prisoners who would provide entertainment. The guy knew Ricky could earn him money but only if Ricky was in condition to fight.
That was really all it took to get what Ricky wanted from a man like the guard. He had to weigh the options and make sure the one Ricky wanted was the better deal. Tyler Martin might have paid someone to toss his ass in jail for life but that someone wasn’t this guard. This guy hadn’t gotten a slice of the pie Martin paid with. Rich men like Martin never learned that if you left your dogs too hungry, they’d turn on you if someone offered them more meat.
“You have a deal. Next fight.” The guard shot him a sneer. “Double-cross me and I will make you wish you were dead.”
Sullivan contained his glee. The guard wandered on, leaving him hugging the victory close. Tyler Martin thought he was safe in Washington, DC. Along with that prick Carl Davis, who was about to be elected president. They’d sold Ricky out, used him to do their dirty work, and left him to rot.
Big mistake.
Because he was alive and that meant he could do more than survive, he could thrive.
Step one was to get out of prison. Ricky popped his knuckles and made a fist. He punched the concrete wall, smiling at the pain and chuckling when his flesh began to harden against it.
Absolutely perfect.
* * *
His watch started chirping.
Magnus rubbed a hand over his eyes. The room was lightening with the approach of daybreak. His watch started its second cycle, and he turned his wrist so he could silence it. He sat up, rejecting the urge to close his eyes for a few more minutes.
But his discipline faltered when he found the picture facing him. Jaelyn was smiling, and even the sight of LeAnn didn’t bother him as much as the idea of leaving the picture behind.
He knew he should.
He went toward the bathroom, hoping a shower would sober him up enough to cowboy up and get on with what needed doing.
Six months later …
Jaelyn sat up, the bed squeaking. Her forehead was dotted with perspiration and her nipples were hard beneath the old T-shirt she’d worn to bed.
She was a rotten sister.
A horrible excuse for a human being.
But that didn’t erase the memory of Bram Magnus’s kiss from her mind or the feel of his hands from her body. She lay back down, frustrated with the way her dreams tormented her. It was a torment because the man hadn’t contacted her even once since that night. After six months, even the excuse that he was in a war zone wasn’t holding water anymore. She just wasn’t his type. Which made her madder, because he was the type of man she’d never forget the feel of. He’d known exactly how to touch her, kissing her with a skill that still had her dreams full of him.
She snorted and punched the pillow but it didn’t improve her mood any. She wanted Bram to come home to her, she wanted to know how much hotter the passion could get between them. She wanted …
Yeah, right.
It wasn’t going to happen.
It was exactly what she deserved for jumping her sister’s boyfriend the second she could. Karma was a bitch. Just because her sister had it coming didn’t make her crime any less awful. Considering the circumstances, he didn’t owe her squat. He was likely relieved he didn’t have to deal with her.
Bram had never noticed that she watched him. There had been plenty of times she’d considered that a blessing. But there was still part of her that wanted him to notice the way she watched him.
Hell, what girl wouldn’t?
He was hard-bodied and focused in a way that curled her toes when he looked her way. She would swear she could feel a buzz in the air when he walked into a room. He was a man-animal with solid principles who made a woman feel like there was nothing on his mind except her.
So she’d jumped on her opportunity to taste him. It hadn’t been the brightest thing she’d ever done.
Yeah, but she’d loved every second of it …
For a moment she grinned, like a kid with a handful of cookies.
“Intimacy” was no longer a word with a definition floating around in her brain. It was a hard, pleasure-packed action. One she was hungry for more of.
Shit … they’d only kissed …
Yeah, well, it seemed to be enough to keep him firmly in mind half a year later.
And there was no way she was ever getting more.
Still, she found herself unable to truly regret it.
Sometimes, it was best to live in the moment before it got away.
Cobra Fire Base, Afghanistan
“You got a girlfriend?”
Communications Specialist Gideon had a hopeful gleam in his eyes. He waited for Magnus to answer with an intensity that was slightly edgy. His eyes brightened but otherwise he held perfectly still, like he was setting a trap and waiting for the right moment to pounce.
“I got a girl.”
“Yeah?” Gideon hit his knee and leaned closer. “Can I see her picture? Blonde or brunette?”
Magnus slid the firing pin back into his rifle, keeping his mouth shut while he ensured his weapon was in prime condition. Inattention could translate into a flag-draped coffin being sent home to his father, or wherever his father was at the moment, anyway. He could sure as hell bet it wasn’t home.
Gideon was a civilian, one making big bucks to put his neck on the line in a hot zone. The guy was a typical subcontractor. One who marketed his degree to the military and was getting his student loans forgiven in the process. Sure, he was making the dough but he could care less about any duty, which left him going stir-crazy while Bram and his men were on a mission.
“You like them curvy or thin? Your girl got tits or melons?” Gideon pressed him.
Bram shot him a warning glare. “She’s a lady. Mind your mouth.”
Gideon offered him a sheepish grin. “I get it. Nothing better than a good girl to keep your dreams peaceful, so long as she knows when to be naughty.” He waved an open hand between them. “Where’s her picture? Come on, buddy, share the wealth. The chicks only wait for you uniform jockeys. I’m shit out of luck until I get back stateside.”
Gideon sat down on the bunk next to him, his face too bright with excitement for Bram’s comfort. Hell, the guy’s lips were wet from being licked. There was lonely and then there was too lonely. Bram lifted one hand and pointed to his temple. “I keep it right here. Private.”
Gideon’s face darkened. His lower lip actually began to protrude just a fraction of an inch before he curled it back toward his teeth.
“How come you don’t have a picture?” Suspicion coated his voice along with disappointment. “If she’s waiting for you, why don’t you have a picture?”
The cot shook when he stood. Bram finished reloading his weapon before lying back and taking up the spot Gideon had sat on. He placed the rifle across his chest with a hand resting gently over the trigger guard.
Gideon sniffed before shaking his head. “You don’t have a girl waiting on you.” His voice turned grumpy, and he shuffled his feet against the floor. “You’re not alone, buddy. No need to lie about it. Lots of us don’t got a girl. Why did you think I wanted to look at yours? You didn’t need to jerk me on like that. It’s just not right to mess with a fellow comrade. Maybe I ain’t a soldier but my ass is still on the line…”
Gideon moved off, still grumbling. Bram crossed his booted feet at his ankles
and ignored his frustrated comrade.
Gideon was right, Jaelyn wasn’t his girl. But that didn’t keep him from dreaming about her.
Right or wrong didn’t really matter at the moment. Jaelyn kept him alive. She was the water for the dried-out parts of his soul. Without her, he’d watch that last part of his civilized personality evaporate and drift off into the sand surrounding him.
His lips pressed into a firm line as he swept the area once more before closing his eyes. He didn’t sleep much. It was a good habit to adopt in Afghanistan. But there was more than fear of impending attack that kept his eyes wide open for eighteen hours in a row. Every time he closed them, Jaelyn was waiting for him. Her dark eyes, framed by inky long lashes. The memory of the way her body moved beneath a summer dress, her hips swaying under a thin layer of cotton. Sultry and seductive with its feminine sway. She didn’t employ any practiced method of seduction; she just flowed like a woman. Just the memory enchanted him.
And turned him on.
His cock twitched as her laughter floated through his brain, its silver tinkle sending blood toward his rising erection. Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a folded photo. Cupping his hand around it, he kept it cocooned away from the eyes of the rest of his comrades. It was like looking through a window into life. He was stuck in the desolate desert and right there, sitting on his palm, was a frozen moment of springtime. Just looking at it was like feeling the spring breeze hit his face, carrying away the harsh desert heat. He could smell the fresh grass, practically feel its satiny smooth blades gliding between the toes of his bare feet.
Jaelyn wasn’t waiting for him. The girl in the photo looking at his camera only had a smile of friendship on her face for him. He kept the picture of her and her sister as a reminder of just how big of a fool he’d been.
He hadn’t lied to Gideon. It was more a matter of declining to admit what an idiot he was. Jaelyn wasn’t waiting for him because he’d been too stupid to notice what a treasure she was when he had been close enough to touch her. Afghanistan changed that. It was the kick in the ass he needed to recognize what really mattered in a girl.
