by Lea Griffith
It was Rand, but he had not died. She had missed him intentionally . . . who was this spirit then? She wanted to struggle, but she was gone now. She sighed as grayness edged her vision and rushed upon her. Regret filtered through her mind, the faces of her sisters and Ninka flashing behind her eyelids, followed by Rand. She’d done what she could, and with one last exhale, Bullet let go.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rand laid her gently on the ground beside the hole and covered her quickly with a heat blanket. Dmitry moved to her other side as Ken stood over them all.
“She’s not breathing,” Dmitry whispered, urgency threading in his tone.
“Scouts coming, six o’clock,” Adam’s voice was cold over the communication link.
Rand looked up at Ken, his friend’s expression bleak, and Rand refused to accept what was in his eyes. He turned to Dmitry. “Fix this now!” Fear was ash in his mouth.
Dmitry nodded and began chest compressions, stopping to breathe into her mouth and begin compressions all over again. He checked her pulse, the answer to Rand’s query on his face.
“Goddamn it. How close, Adam?” Rand asked.
“Less than three hundred yards. Fall back or we’ll have a war.”
Rand cursed. “Raines? Can you take them out, and how much time will that buy us?”
“I’ve got them.” Raine’s voice was death over the link.
Two men rounded a small corner and headed in their direction. Behind them shadows morphed, and the men went down, never knowing what hit them.
“Another round will be headed our way in less than ten minutes. Get her out of there, Rand,” Adam urged.
Rand looked down at the woman lying so still on the ground before him. Tempered steel that had bent under enormous pressure. “You will not break, Bullet. Goddamn it, you fight to live,” he demanded at her ear.
He watched Dmitry work, mouth tight, eyes desperate. “Nothing.”
Rand leaned over, placed his mouth over hers and breathed into her deeply, giving everything he was to her, commanding her to live. “You will not fucking die on me, damn it. We are not finished with this.”
“Breathe,” Dmitry ordered, and waited for Rand to breathe into her mouth again.
It seemed it went on forever, but logically Rand knew it was a minute at most. Dmitry placed his hand over her neck and hissed, “Pulse. Let’s move.”
Sweeter words Rand had never heard. Her face as she’d looked up at him from that fucking pit—he would never forget it. It was emblazoned on his memory, and he wanted to cut Joseph Bombardier’s still beating heart from his chest.
Her body had almost given up. But she had not broken.
“Head back the way you came. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.” Adam had coordinated this extraction. Damn good at what he did, Rand had never been happier to have the man at Trident than he was this night.
“Me and mine will wait ’til you’ve left the two-mile radius. Never know when a little kill action might be necessary,” Raines said mockingly across the links.
“Just get back to the air strip before we take off,” Ken responded.
Rand picked her up in his arms, heart beating hard at her slight weight, and he started running. Once they’d reached the rendezvous point, he waited for the litter they’d brought to be put together.
When it was complete, he laid her on it, wrapped her in more heat blankets, and then he and Ken each picked up an end of the litter. They began the journey to the Jeeps.
“Dmitry, do you have what you need on the plane to get her stable?”
Dmitry glanced at him, face drawn and worried. “I don’t know, Rand. I think her left arm is broken and she’s definitely running a fever. I’ll have to triage when we’re on the plane and in the air.”
Rand nodded. They walked three miles, always anticipating Joseph’s retaliation, but it never came.
“Beckett?” It was Raines.
“Yeah?”
“He knows she’s gone. He stood over that fucking hole for twenty minutes just staring. He’s one crazy motherfucker, because he raised his head to the sky and just laughed like a goddamn loony tune. We are on your six now.”
Chills swept down Rand’s spine. Joseph would never give her up. He may not have anticipated Rand would come for her, probably banking on the fact that Rand would hate her guts for shooting him, but the bottom line was Joseph was always ready for every contingency.
He glanced down at her face so still in the darkness. The son of a bitch had cut the hair from her head. Ragged cuts marred her skull, deep and bleeding sluggishly. His heart stuttered and kicked back into a normal rhythm. There was not an inch of her body that wasn’t bruised. He had to look away or the rage would overwhelm him.
Rand blanked his mind, careful not to jar her too much, but making haste to get her help faster. It took them another hour, but they reached the Jeeps and settled everyone inside. Within another hour, they were at the airfield and loading into the jet.
“We have to leave, The Collective has sent out a call to lock down the airstrip,” Adam said.
Dmitry was working on Bullet in the plane’s bedroom cabin. She’d not roused and though her pressure was stable, she was hurt badly. He’d made her as comfortable as possible, but until they got back to the states, there was no way to set her broken arm or determine the extent of her other injuries.
“Load up the children, give Raines another ten minutes to get here. He doesn’t make it, he’s on his own, but I’m sure he’ll do fine.”
“Ten four,” Adam responded with a grin.
Raines was a tough bastard. Though he refused to join Trident, he aligned with them frequently. A good man to have at your back, his sense of justice flowed from a deep, deep well. Joseph had made a horrible enemy. When he’d discovered what Bullet had told them was true, he’d spit and said, “He’s a dead motherfucker walking.”
Hell, Raines may stay on his own just for some get-back. Rand needed him and hoped he made it to the jet, but he understood if he didn’t.
“Gonna leave without us?” Raines’ voice sounded from the door of the plane.
“You’re slow, man. Thought I was going to have to send up an emergency flare for you to find your way,” Rand said with a grunt.
“Fuck you, dude. The day you have to send out a flare for me to find my way is the day hell freezes over.”
Rand grunted, and then turned away and watched as everyone settled in.
“We have activity headed our way,” Adam called out.
“Get us wheels up,” Rand said hurriedly.
Adam sighed. “Doing it now, but you might want to hold on in case they have something larger than a gun to shoot at us.”
A huge explosion rocked the ground beneath them.
“Holy fuck, that was close!” Adam said from the cockpit.
Rand looked out the window, watching in disbelief as huge balls of fire followed successive blasts approximately a mile away.
“Those crazy bitches did it,” Raines murmured as he looked out the same window Rand was.
No way, Rand thought. “What crazy bitches?”
“That hot Asian chick, a scrawny white girl, and a drop-dead gorgeous Middle Eastern woman. We met them as we headed from Bombardier’s place. They were headed in and said they’d handle him if he came too close. I guess that’s what they’re doing.”
They hadn’t left her, but neither had they rescued her. It was the rest of First Team, Rand was sure of it. What the fuck was going on?
More explosions rocked the night as Adam rushed to get them off the ground and away. Every second seemed an eternity before his stomach dropped as the plane lifted off. He watched until he could see nothing but the black of the sky around them, and then he closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat. Everything that had happened over the past few days played and rewound over and over.
“We had to tranq the children, but at least they’re resting. What are we going to do about them?”
Ken’s quiet voice interrupted his replaying.
“We’ll let Gretchen decide,” Rand responded, the rightness of his response solidifying in his gut.
“I hate to tell you this, but she might not be in any condition to decide anything for a long time. I saw her, Rand. Joseph fucked with her badly. We almost weren’t there in time,” he reminded him quietly.
“We’ll keep them safe. I don’t know what our next move is, but I know we have to keep them running so they’re too busy to come after us. We’ve got Gretchen’s list, let’s start with that. Carmelita can get some of her family to come stay at the house and watch over the kids. We’ll fix the panic room into a place for them.”
Ken nodded and sat down. “Agreed. Lily would want us to keep them safe.”
Rand rubbed his chest, but the image behind his closed lids wasn’t his dead wife, it was Gretchen aka Remi aka Bullet.
“I agree.”
“I don’t understand why you keyed on her, Rand, but I won’t give you anymore shit about it. She’s proven herself over and over, and while I don’t like that she’s a killer, neither will I sit in judgment any longer.”
Rand opened his eyes at the ring of truth in Ken’s voice, nodded, and got up to go check on the woman they were discussing. He stepped into the bedroom and walked to stand beside the bed. She was lying there so still, he had to watch closely for the rise and fall of her chest.
“She won’t wake up until we’re on U.S. soil. I can’t risk her moving, so I’ll keep her out. I contacted a buddy of mine at Walter Reed, and he’ll meet me at the house. He’s a doctor, Rand, and I trust him. I can’t do what she needs done. She needs stitches and that arm set.” Dmitry sighed deeply. “It looks like they wedged her arm to break it. The bruising above and below the break tells me they put it under a hell of a lot of pressure before it snapped. But fuck, she’s bruised all over and cut to hell and back. I think there are burns on the bottom of her feet.” Silence for the beat of one, two, then in a hard voice, “I want in.”
Rand shot Dmitry a questioning glance.
“When you have him where he can go no farther, I want a piece of him for what he did to her. I don’t know how she’s alive, and that’s the truth.” He ran a hand through his hair and over his face, rubbing as if to get rid of the weariness.
“Go try to get some sleep,” Rand said to him. His voice was guttural, and it couldn’t be helped. The rage clogging his throat wouldn’t allow for anything else.
“I’ll see her every time I close my eyes, man. Her face in that pit—I don’t know that I’ll sleep again without remembering that.”
Rand nodded, and as Dmitry opened the door, he said, “Thank you.”
Dmitry didn’t say anything; he simply shut the door softly, leaving Rand alone with her.
He let the silence soothe the beast inside him. He’d been a soldier for so long, he couldn’t remember not being one. But the woman before him would shame the mightiest of warriors. Before he could check his words, they poured forth, pulled from the depths of the heart he’d thought long dead when Lily and Anna had been taken from him.
He held her right hand, rubbed his thumb over the dry, bruised skin, and he talked to her. He told her about Lily and Anna, what their loss had done to him. He told her stories of his youth, and then his time in the Rangers. He told of the last seven years, his loneliness, his rage, and his quest for justice. He told her about what she stirred in him, and how he’d never felt about anyone the way he felt about her. He cursed her. He praised her. He begged her to not leave him. Minutes turned to hours, and even when his voice went hoarse and he could barely speak, the words flowed out of him into the air between them. She never moved. There was no reaction his words even reached her subconscious, but by the time his eyes drooped and his mouth had gone completely dry, Rand had made a decision.
Whether she was Bullet, Remi, or Gretchen, he needed her with a passion that eclipsed sanity. She’d threatened, argued and shot him, but Rand was convinced, his future lay within her.
And he’d kill Joseph Bombardier and anybody else who dared threaten what Rand had marked as his.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Remi woke soundlessly, confusion swamping her thoughts and pain vice-gripping her body. She stayed still, breathing slow and even lest anyone be in the room with her. Knowledge was power, and she’d prefer to know who was watching.
She felt no eyes watching her, no warning prickle under her skin to let her know someone was in the room with her. She took a slightly deeper breath, pushing all the pain aside as she tried to sift through scents for clues.
The air was cold, but not bitterly so. Artificial, it floated over her skin and caused gooseflesh, but she wasn’t freezing. She was naked, and there was light beyond her closed eyelids, not bright, but there just the same.
Remi tried to move her arms, but found herself tethered and wondered at the heaviness of the left one. She attempted to move her legs, and found them free.
Not with Joseph then. He’d never have allowed her any freedom. Her brow wrinkled and she slit her eyes open, nearly hissing as the low light cut into her retinas. Behind the light were pictures burned into her memory, and they too bit deep. All the punishment she’d taken under Joseph’s direction, the taunting and cruelty dished out to the young ones as she watched.
She wanted to sob and wondered where the need to do so came from. Not pain and certainly not fear . . . or was it?
“I did not break,” she whispered, so very sure she was alone, wherever she was.
A man cleared his throat and chuckled. “No, Bullet. You did not break.” She recognized the voice, opened her eyes wider, and encountered Dmitry Asinimov’s blue eyes. He smiled, and it was kind.
Had anyone ever smiled kindly at her? She could not remember.
“But I have to be honest,” he said gently. “You did bend a little.” He tapped her left arm, and her head swiveled to look.
She wore a cast from shoulder to wrist. The pain of that memory took her breath, but she caught it back and made sure to breathe deep so she would not hyperventilate.
“If I untie you, will you promise to move easy? You have so many stitches you look like Frankenstein’s bride, and if you stand, it will have to be with assistance. The bottom of your feet are bound to be tender.” He moved to her bonds and began undoing them.
“Why are you being nice to me?” The words flew from her mouth before she could contain them. She was appalled at her lack of control.
Maybe Joseph had broken her.
“I tend to be nice to people who save my life,” he murmured as he unhooked the second tether and let her begin to move slowly.
“How long have I been here?”
“Two weeks. We had begun to worry you wouldn’t ever wake up. Do you remember anything after you shot Rand?”
Agony shot through her abdomen, and it didn’t come from any physical hurt.
“I remember everything.”
Dmitry winced. “Do you feel like sitting up? I’d like to look at your back. It’s time to change the dressings and apply some salve to the cuts and bruises there.”
“I can sit up on my own,” she bit out.
She turned to her side, white-hot throbbing accompanying every single move she made. Even blinking hurt. She hissed as she pushed up with her right hand. She heaved, unable to stop the gorge from rising. Her stomach was empty, but gastric juices dribbled from her lips and fell on her leg.
“Take it easy, here—” He lifted a hand to help her.
She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Don’t touch me.” Cold, vicious, and definitive, she never wanted anybody to touch her again.
She’d allowed Rand to, and it had nearly destroyed her.
“Okay, uh, look, I’ve got to take care of those cuts. I’ve been doing it for two weeks now, and I’m afraid if I stop, infection will take advantage.” There was a plea in his voice she couldn’t understand and really didn’t want to try.
&nb
sp; “I’m not hurting, and I don’t need your help. I need to leave.” She shook her head, her sluggish thoughts bothering her greatly. “Where are we?”
“Virginia.”
She looked around the room. It wasn’t familiar, but the smell of the place was. They were in Rand’s house . . . Lily’s house. Regret carved viciously into her soul. She’d not given him the revenge he’d so desperately wanted. Instead, she’d shot him and almost gotten herself killed in the bargain.
Dmitry reached for her again. She shrugged away, desperate that she not be touched. She nearly fell off the hospital bed, and then groaned as all of her hurts cascaded and slammed into her at once.
“I do not hurt,” she said between clenched teeth.
“Like regret, pain is for pussies,” he responded ruefully, and her gaze shot to his.
He smiled and she couldn’t help it. Where it came from, how she could do it, she had no idea. She laughed. And once it started, it refused to abate. Before long, she was gasping for breath, her broken and casted arm snug against her belly as she struggled for breath.
He winked at her. “It’s all shits and giggles until someone gets an infection. So come on, let’s get some salve and new bandages on those injuries. If you feel like leaving after that, I’ll hold the door for you, but until then, please don’t undo my handiwork with stubbornness.”
She gave it serious thought. She took so long, he sighed. Finally, she relented, notching her chin in the air and waving him to do what he would. He set about doing it. She ground her teeth together and tried to hold in her gasps of pain.
When he finished, he wrapped a soft cotton gown around her. “I don’t know if it’s me or that you’re insanely uninhibited, but I hardly ever see you with clothes on—what’s that all about?”
She ignored him and looked out the window instead. Remi was off-balance. She had no idea what she was doing here, how she’d gotten here, or what they wanted with her. Until she knew those things, she needed to remain quiet. That she could genuinely like Dmitry mattered not. Remi had no business liking anyone.
“Okay,” he chimed into the awkward silence. “You ready to go?”
