Issued (Navy Seals of Little Creek Book 1)

by Paris Wynters

Then I use my legs to tangle with his and flip us both to the ground.

  Marco surprises me by twisting free. Panting, he crawls for the knife, his left wrist bent at an unnatural angle. My hand curls around a thick, jagged piece of the broken mug just as he grabs his own weapon and starts to roll over. I’m on top of him, pinning him across the throat with my forearm. He struggles, and the knife flies toward me. The blade grazes my skin and I hiss just as I jam the thick chunk of ceramic into the side of his throat, bisecting the carotid. Blood spurts everywhere. “Go straight to hell.”

  His eyes bulge, and gradually he goes limp. When his chest stops moving, I’m on my feet and running the last few steps into the kitchen and round the corner of the island.

  Taya is sprawled on her stomach on the floor. There’s so much blood, it brings me to my knees. Her clothes are soaked with it, and when I pull her into my lap, cradling her against my chest, I’m both relieved and heartbroken her body is still warm.

  I break through the nightmare haze and pull my cell out of my pocket, and pick out the three numbers.

  “Nine one one, what’s your emergency?”

  “My wife has been stabbed. She’s not moving. Please. Send an ambulance. Hurry.”

  I barely remember giving my address. Or hanging up and calling Bear afterward. I barely remember anything at all but the contrast of the pale, cold flesh of Taya’s face against the red blood pooled on the floor.

  I thought when I finally snapped, it would be in stages. Instead, I’m torn down all at once, decimated in a single breath. She doesn’t stir at first, but when I shift her in my arms, pain brings her eyes open with a suddenness that damn near stops my heart.

  “Please don’t die.” Is that my voice? It doesn’t sound like me. I’ve never begged for anything. Not even my life. I’m begging now. “Hold on for me, baby. Please. I need you to hold on.”

  Her eyes flutter, and it’s hard to tell if she can hear me. I keep talking anyway. It’s not like I can stop. Desperation won’t let me. “Taya, keep your eyes open,” I snap when her next blink lasts a second too long.

  “I’m sorry.” I’m starting to hate those words, but I say them anyway. “I’m so, so sorry I left you. Fuck the balloons. I shouldn’t have left you all alone. I’ll never leave you again, just please keep your eyes open.”

  Tears fall from me to strike her cheeks like raindrops. Her eyes gaze dreamily at something above my head. “You got me balloons.”

  I glance up and sure enough, there are the balloons I brought home. Bobbing against the ceiling like a crowd of voyeurs. I’m going to pop every one of those bastards the second I know Taya is okay.

  I swallow as pain claws through me. “I love you.” A part of me thinks if I whisper it, it will reach her wherever she’s drifting off to. The look on her face says it’s a soft kind of place. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say.”

  “Marco.” She chokes, and it’s a painful sound. I try to quiet her, but she shakes her head, refusing to be silenced. “He’s got a DVD with evidence. Find it. Please, Jim, we have to . . . make things right.”

  It’s a chore for her to breathe, and she gives in to unconsciousness just as abruptly as she tried to fight her way from it. A frown tugs at her lips. “Your arm . . . hurt.”

  I glance at my arm. There’s a vicious looking cut halfway down my forearm that’s leeching a steady stream of blood. It’s nothing, though. Shit, I’d cut the damn thing off if I thought it would guarantee that she’d be okay.

  “Hold on,” I whisper urgently, when Taya drifts off. “Dammit, Taya, hold on!”

  I don’t know how long I’m holding her like that, urging her to fight, before the wail of a siren fills my ears. Somehow, Bear gets there just before the ambulance. He squats down in front of me, his hand reaching across to lay on my shoulder. “Jim, the paramedics are here.”

  I rock, clutching her close, but Bear pries her limp body from me, gently placing her on the floor. Two men dash in and begin working on her as my best friend wraps his arm around my waist, dragging me backward.

  I resist, thrusting my weight against his arm, but he wrestles me to the floor, pinning me against the cold, ceramic tile. “It’s my fault. God is taking my Taya to punish me for Aland.”

  Bear adjusts his body on top of mine when I start clawing at the floor to drag myself over to Taya. Bear shakes me, and my head bobbles, pain shooting through my eyebrow as my face slaps the floor. “Stop! The bomb in that basket would’ve killed everyone in a mile radius. You are a hero. I get to hug my little girl because of you.”

  Sobs wrack through my body. “I never should have left her alone.”

  Bear’s grip loosens. “You can’t blame yourself for all the evil in the world, Jim.”

  I can’t help her. I can’t save her. Tears spill from my helpless eyes as I shake uncontrollably under Bear. “I can’t lose her.”

  “I know.” His words are just right and yet, not nearly enough.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Taya

  It feels like a long time before I open my eyes again. The room I’m in smells like medicine and sickness. It’s a familiar smell, and my nose wrinkles in distaste. There’s an IV in my arm and a stiffness to my limbs that makes me think of bandages.

  Makes sense.

  My lips purse at the memory of Marco’s duplicity, and someone laughs.

  “Not even awake a full minute, and she’s already irritated.”

  The voice is only vaguely familiar, and I finally glance around the room in search of the culprit. Tony slouches in a chair by the window. Lucas, standing next to him, waves in greeting. On the other side of my bed is Bear with Marge asleep in his lap, and Leslie curled up napping in hers. A tiered cake of a family.

  I find Jim last, though I suspect that I was aware of him the entire time and only waiting for the moment I was ready to face him. He’s sitting next to me, studying my face as if he can’t bear to look away. He’s drawn and tired. Defeat is in the slump of his shoulders and the cant of his mouth.

  “Where’s Marco?” As much as I want to touch him, I can’t rest without knowing the fate of the man who tried to kill me and murdered my father. “The disc!”

  Jim smooths a big hand over my hair, soothing me. “Marco’s dead. We still have the disc.”

  There are holes in his usual baritone and his eyes are red. My husband has been crying.

  “Are you okay?” I say, searching him for a sign of an injury. All I find is a bandage, wrapped around his forearm.

  “Now that you’re awake, yes.”

  A feeling I can only describe as awe drifts over me. Or maybe it’s the pain meds. Or a combination of both. All I know is, despite my discomfort, that I’m touched, deep in my heart, over the knowledge that this strong man cried over me. That, and he doesn’t look remotely embarrassed to show it.

  “Lyons?” I rasp out.

  “He’s fine,” Jim reassures me. “He’s here at the hospital too, on a different floor. Stable condition with a few broken bones. Local police officers are assigned to him to make sure he’s safe. Plus, some of our off-duty friends.”

  I try to speak again and end up clearing my throat, which feels as dry as ash. “Water?”

  Jim hands me a pink plastic cup with a bendy straw. I take a grateful sip before attempting to speak again. “Marco’s dead?”

  “As a doornail,” Bear says. “He made the fatal mistake of trying to keep Jim away from you.”

  The relief his words provide is so strong. The pinch of sadness is unwelcome but not entirely unexpected. I meet Jim’s eyes, while emotion claws around in my chest. My face crumbles. “I tried to get him to leave before you got there. I didn’t want him to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize. I will always, always, come to save you. I’m just sorry that I was almost too late.” Our fingers entangle above the sheets while he chokes up.

  “No, it’s my fault.” My breath saws in and out. “Should’ve told you sooner. S
hould’ve updated the committee. Then we could have had a plan.”

  Tony groans. “Alright, alright, enough with this crap already. We get it. You’re both to blame, now kiss and get over it before we all vomit from the sweetness.”

  Jim’s head jerks up. His eyes blaze and I’m convinced he’s going to lose his shit. Then a reluctant smile tugs at his mouth. He shakes his head. “How about this? I promise if your wife ends up in the hospital, I won’t give you half as much shit, because I’m not an asshole.”

  Tony gasps. “Wife? Bite your tongue. That’s just mean.”

  I laugh, instantly regretting the impulse when the motion floods me with pain. Jim’s smile turns into a frown. “What is it?”

  I nod while the pain recedes. “Just try not to say anything funny for the next, oh, month or so.”

  “Mr. Sour Pants here? Should be a piece of cake,” Tony says, only for the oxygen to release from his lungs in a loud whoosh when Jim elbows him hard in the ribs.

  I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing again. Oh, how I love these people.

  Jim hooks his pinkie with mine, and the expression in his eyes when he gazes down at me makes my heart swell. “I love you, Taya.”

  My heart swells and tears clog my throat. I sob, warmth suffusing once-cold limbs. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

  Marge shifts in Bear’s lap. “We’ve been waiting for like six weeks. I had money riding on it.”

  Her words bring a weak smile to Jim’s face and an outright laugh from Bear. My pinkie squeezes Jim’s, locking in our promise. “I love you too.”

  I never want Jim to doubt my feelings for him again. If I have to tell him every day, several times a day, I’ll do so gladly. Why wouldn’t I, when he smiles so much brighter when he hears it?

  “It sounds much better when you’re awake.”

  My eyes widen.

  He smirks. “You talk in your sleep.”

  I flush, a little light-headed at the rush of blood to my head. Apparently, I’m too hurt to handle embarrassment just yet.

  “And no one is ever going to hurt you again.” Jim’s brows pull together, happiness leaving his eyes. His posture is rigid, and a vein in his neck pulsates.

  “You got that right,” Bear interjects, and I glance at him in surprise.

  Marge nods, viciously determined. “You’re family.”

  Lucas and Tony step up to my hospital bed, solemn for the first time since I’ve met them. “No one messes with family.”

  Family.

  These people are my family. I may not be as close to Tony and Lucas, but I know in my heart, they wouldn’t hesitate to risk their lives for me. And that they’ll watch over me and take care of me if ever Jim can’t.

  Marge’s lips contort into a Cheshire grin of sorts, so wide her gums are exposed. She folds her arms, gaze turning to Jim. “Bear told me you guys were done repainting your guest bedroom, so when are you planning on moving Leslie’s old crib over? You know, I want my garage cleaned out before y’all are deployed again.”

  My head whips to my husband, who’s growing paler by the second. Kids? He’s thinking about kids? My earlobes are on fire, showcasing my embarrassment, as usual. I slap at his forearm, but Jim continues to avoid my gaze, his cheeks a deep red. Yup, he’s definitely considering it. Who am I kidding? The man probably has a detailed mission plan on it already.

  Tony snickers. “Pre-deployment baby?”

  Before either of us can answer, the hospital door bursts inward.

  The men tense, but the woman striding up to my hospital bed isn’t a threat to anything but my ribs. She’s the last member of my new tribe, a fact Inara demonstrates as she throws herself into my arms. Inara hugs me much too tightly for a woman reacquainting herself with consciousness. I groan, and my friend pulls back with a tearful chuckle.

  “Sorry, chica.” She fans her still-tearing eyes with one hand as if she can will the water away. “I get really handsy when I’m nervous.”

  I grin. Inara is a bond I formed all on my own, and it feels good to have her there with the rest of the people who are dear to me. “Well, almost dying can be worrisome.”

  She perches daintily on the edge of my hospital bed, near Tony and Lucas. “It’s the absolute worst. You have to give a bitch a head’s up about this kind of thing. I feel like I would be more emotionally prepared for all of this if I’d known ahead of time that people were trying to kill you. Ya dig?”

  I bite back a smile.

  “I dig.” Tony angles a little closer, a grin on his face, and his eyes assessing.

  Inara looks at him from the corner of her eye, and her upper lip curls in prim disapproval. “¡Escucha! Take two steps back, or you’ll be ending that sentence with ‘my own grave.’”

  “I like you,” Marge says.

  Bear shakes his head. “Of course, you do.”

  Inara stands up and walks over toward Tony, her gaze dancing between Jim and me. “How much damage did he do?”

  Jim’s face tightens as he pales. He takes a second to clear his throat before he speaks. “He stabbed her three times in the back. She lost a lot of blood. She also has some broken ribs, a concussion, cuts on her feet, and a fractured eye socket.”

  “God, chica, you must be in a lot of pain.”

  My lips turn up into a lopsided smile. “Only when I laugh. I think they must have me on some really good drugs.”

  I turn to Jim and rest my hand on the side of his face, swiping away a stray tear that has fallen. I didn’t realize how severe my situation was, but the anguish on my husband’s face tells me there’s more he isn’t saying—that he can’t say right now.

  He nuzzles into my palm and squeezes my hand. “Taya?”

  The rest of the room seems to fade away, my focus shifting from my husband’s green irises to the slight tremble of his lips. “Yes?”

  “You lost something, but I got it back for you.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws my engagement ring. The one that Marco ripped off my finger.

  I frown when an old anxiety wiggles its way into my head.

  Jim pales. “Did you change your mind?”

  “No. It’s just . . . what about the committee? What happens when they find out about all this?” I gesture to my bedridden body. “And that I didn’t tell them about Santoro and Marco?”

  Jim’s already shaking his head. “You just focus on healing. I’m taking care of the rest.”

  I lean back against the pillow, allowing his reassurance to wash away the bulk of my concern. “Then, yes, I’ll still marry you. Nothing would make me happier.”

  Epilogue

  Taya

  “Thanks for all of this, Taya.” Lyons smiles as he grips a copy of the DVD. “This should help.”

  “Will it put him away?” I want to hope but don’t dare. I won’t feel truly safe until Santoro is behind bars.

  He pats my arm, one of the few uninjured places on my body. There’s a warning grunt, and I glance along the length of the bar at Shaken & Stirred to frown at Tony. Lucas is sitting next to him, talking to the bartender. Bear, Tony, and Lucas have been working in shifts to keep an eye on me when I’m not with Jim. I’m grateful for the precaution. Until Santoro’s organization is dismantled, there’s still a chance the crime boss may try to retaliate.

  Seeing the look on Tony’s face, Lyons pulls away.

  Fiddling with my hands, I glance up at Lyons. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I couldn’t bear to lose you too.” I grip the hard wood of the table. “I can’t believe my father didn’t warn me.”

  Lyons’s expression softens. “Your dad looked out for all of us. He protected us even when we screwed up. Like the time I got busted hacking into the school server to change my grade.”

  “Yeah, but he also made you paint the entire house over the summer.”

  Lyons’s expression grows solemn. “Your dad probably thought he could help Marco, get him out of whatever trouble he’d gotten caught up in.”

&nbs
p; I slump in my seat and my injuries twinge, a clear sign I’ll need more painkillers soon. “I just wish we still had those recordings.”

  Inara slides onto the stool next to me, lips red with a fresh coat of lipstick from her run to the ladies’ room. “What recordings?”

  “Marco mentioned some audio files. My father recorded him and Santoro, but no one knows where they are.”

  Lyons places his hand on the top of mine. “When I get back to the precinct, we’ll go through the flash drive. If your dad knew how to use a cloud account, I’m sure he knew how to hide computer files.”

  I jerk back slightly, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish with no sound coming out as I process his words.

  Inara rolls her eyes. “You can hide files on a flash drive by left clicking and changing the properties. It’s kind of like a magic trick. My ex-boyfriend did it with his porn. It fucked up my computer, and I couldn’t figure out how I kept getting viruses. Turns out, Big Booty Bitches is just another name for malware. Who knew?”

  I stifle a laugh. Only Inara.

  Lyons fights back a smile. “We’ll also check the images. Your father could’ve imbedded the files on one of the pictures.” Lyons pushes back his chair and stands, leaning on his cane for support. “Reach out if you need anything.”

  I stand and walk over to Lyons, wrapping my arms around him and momentarily forgetting my broken ribs. “Thank you. Tell everyone when it’s safe, I’ll come up and say hello. Let them know I miss them.”

  “Should I be jealous?”

  I loosen my hug and turn my head just in time to catch the kiss Jim presses against my lips upon his arrival. He pulls away long enough to shake Lyons’s hand. “Make sure to keep us updated.”

  “Will do.” Lyons nods at the rest of the group and makes his way out the door.

  Bear and Marge swoop past Jim to offer their own greetings. Bear’s hug is gentleness itself, his large frame dwarfing me in a way that would have been alarming if I hadn’t known what a softie he is. Marge gives me a kiss against the cheek and squeezes my hand for the briefest of moments. Tony and Lucas leave their seats to come join us. As the two of them greet Inara, I spot the customized helmet tucked beneath Jim’s arm for the first time.