Rescuing Harley: Delta Force Heroes, Book 3

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Rescuing Harley: Delta Force Heroes, Book 3 Page 7

by Susan Stoker


  But that was going to change.

  He hadn’t lied; he didn’t remember much after getting up from the benches in the plane, getting ready to jump. Only looking to Harley’s eyes as he adjusted the goggles over her glasses. He wanted to know the details about what happened, but one thing was crystal clear in his mind. Harley had done a hell of a job.

  She was covered in his blood. That was enough to tell him that whatever had happened had been fairly traumatic. Several scenarios went through his mind, but until he heard the story from Harley, he had no idea when he was knocked unconscious during the jump. But the bottom line was that somehow she’d been able to get them landed and call for help.

  The only people he’d ever felt indebted to were his Delta Force teammates. They’d saved his life more than once, as he’d done for them. But this was something different.

  Harley was a civilian. And a woman. Oh, he knew that being a woman didn’t mean she couldn’t save someone’s life. But it was his life. It made a huge difference. He’d spent his entire life protecting others. To have a woman protect him was a new feeling. A bigger one.

  Harley sniffed once, then again, and surreptitiously wiped her nose on her sleeve. Coach smiled, reaching behind her for the box of tissues. Without a word, he held one out to her and he waited patiently as she used it to wipe her face and nose.

  “Feel better?” he asked, taking hold of her hand again.

  She shook her head. “Not really. I think I’m gonna need a hot bath, a long nap, and some strong drinks to get there.”

  “I know how you feel. My head is killing me. My face hurts. My nose is never gonna look the same, but I have a feeling after I hear what we went through, I’m gonna need that bath, nap, and drink as much as you do.”

  At his words, Harley looked up in concern. “Your head hurts? Did they give you something for it? Can I get you anything?”

  “No, Harl. I’m okay. Thank you though. Can you tell me what happened? And don’t leave anything out. Please?”

  Harley nodded and took a deep breath. “We jumped out and it was fine. Good. You were right, it was amazing and exhilarating at the same time. I was scared, but it was something I could never have understood if I hadn’t done it for myself.”

  Coach nodded, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. He knew just what she meant. As much as he didn’t exactly relish the missions where they had to parachute in, it never failed to get his adrenaline pumping. It was an amazing feeling. “Then I got nailed by a bird.”

  Harley nodded and sucked her lips into her mouth again before continuing. “Yeah. It’s really my fault.”

  “Your fault? Harley, you didn’t put that bird at just the right place at the right time. Or is it the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  “I ducked.”

  “What?” Her voice was so sad and quiet, Coach wasn’t sure he heard her right.

  “I ducked. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and I ducked. If I hadn’t, it would’ve hit me and not you, and you would’ve been okay to get us down.”

  Oh hell no.

  “Harley, look at me,” Coach ordered sternly. It took a moment, but she finally raised her eyes to his. “This is not your fault. If it had hit you rather than me, you might be dead. I’m bigger than you, and as it was, it apparently only glanced off me. If you hadn’t ducked, it would’ve hit you straight on and done a lot more damage than just a broken nose and a headache. Got me?”

  She didn’t agree, but she didn’t disagree either. Coach took that as a win. “What happened after I got hit? I’m assuming it knocked me unconscious? Wait, it hit me before I pulled the chute?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Jesus, Harley. I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I said you’d be safe. I said you could trust me to take care of you and get you to the ground, and I didn’t.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Coach smiled faintly. “Now you sound like me. Go on, tell me the rest.” Coach clenched his teeth at the terror he could still see lingering in Harley’s eyes. He should’ve figured it out way before now, but the fact that he’d gotten hit before he pulled the chute was huge. The thought of Harley realizing what had happened and hurtling to the ground made his stomach churn.

  She shrugged and hurried through her explanation as to what had happened after he’d been hit. “You were out. I couldn’t pull hard enough on the handle to make the chute come out. I panicked, but then the automatic thingie went off and saved us. We hit the ground and I ran to get help.”

  Coach eyed Harley, knowing there was a lot she was leaving out, but she looked like she was at the end of her rope and he didn’t want to push her. Steering a chute wasn’t too difficult, but with him being unconscious at her back, that being her first jump, and the experience of not knowing if she was going to live or die…well, that upped the difficulty level quite a bit.

  He let go of her hand long enough to lightly palm her cheek. “And the bruise I can see forming here on your cheek?”

  She shrugged self-consciously. “I didn’t realize I had one. It must be from when I hit myself in the face with my knee when the chute came out.”

  “I warned you about that,” Coach told her with a small smile.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “Thank you, Harley.” The words were completely inadequate for what she’d done. For all that she’d been through, but they were as heartfelt as anything he’d ever told anyone before.

  “I didn’t do anything. The AAD thing did it all.”

  “You got us to the ground it one piece. That couldn’t have been easy with me being dead weight. You got help. You somehow made it so that we weren’t falling head or ass first when the chute went off. There are a ton of other things I can’t think of right now because my head is pounding, but there’s one thing I am sure of.”

  “What?” Harley asked in a soft voice, her eyes tearing up again at his words.

  “That I’m glad it was you strapped to my chest up there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t think Sarah or any of her friends would’ve reacted the same way as you did. You didn’t panic and you did what needed to be done.”

  “I didn’t, not really,” Harley told him, not meeting his eyes. “Honestly, I freaked out. And besides, they’d been skydiving before, so they probably would’ve known better what to do.”

  “Harley,” Coach said sternly, bringing his free hand over to hold the other side of her face. “I would be surprised if you didn’t freak out. But that’s not the point. How people react in emergencies is a crapshoot. I’ve seen seasoned soldiers run toward the enemy rather than away from them when they panicked. It doesn’t matter how many times someone has been in combat, or has jumped out of a plane. It’s what’s inside a person that dictates how they handle themselves when something goes wrong. So, you freaked. Big deal. What matters is that we’re both here right now. Dinged up, but alive. Because of that, I know you did everything right. I know it. I’m lying here today because you did everything right.”

  “I was s-scared.”

  “Oh, honey. Come here.”

  Coach couldn’t have resisted pulling her into his arms if his life depended on it. He felt a connection to this woman that he’d never felt toward anyone before. She was trying so hard to be strong, but it was obvious how terrified she’d been.

  She sat on the side of the bed and lay down against him when Coach engulfed her thin frame into his arms. He simply held Harley to him as she shook. She wasn’t sobbing as she’d done earlier, but she was still upset.

  When she finally stopped sniffing, he asked quietly, “How many of my teammates are in the waiting room?”

  Without lifting her head, Harley said, “Three when I was out there. And two women and a little girl.”

  “Hmmmm. Not surprised Fletch showed up first. Bet Ghost is out there too. And their women. I’m sure the others are here by now.”

  “I
should go,” Harley said, trying to sit up.

  Coach’s arms tightened before releasing her. He brought a hand up and pushed her hair behind her ear as she wiped her face with her fingers, a thought occurring to him for the first time. “Where are your glasses?”

  “Oh, um. I don’t know. I knocked my goggles askew at some point and when I took them off, the glasses came too. Some cow is probably wearing them by now.”

  Coach smiled. Harley was funny. The situation wasn’t, but she was. Then he got serious. “Will you let one of my teammates take you home?” He held up a hand when it was obvious she was going to protest. “You can’t see, and I’m assuming your car is still back at the airport, right?” When she nodded, he continued, “Please, for my peace of mind. Let Hollywood or Truck or someone take you home. They’ll get your car back to your place later.”

  Harley studied him. “You have a concussion.” It wasn’t a question.

  Coach grimaced. “Yeah.”

  “Do you have someone at your place who can watch over you?”

  He didn’t think she was fishing for information, but gave it to her nonetheless. “No wife or girlfriend, Harley. I wouldn’t have asked you out if that was the case. One of the guys will stay with me and make sure to wake me up every couple of hours. It’s not the first concussion I’ve had. Unfortunately, the team has had their share of knocks on the head. They’ll take care of me.”

  “Okay.”

  She sat on the bed looking at him for a long moment before saying, “I’m glad you’re okay, Coach.”

  “Me too. Thank you, Harley.”

  She stood up and held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Beckett Ralston.”

  Coach looked at the slender hand she held out to him. He wasn’t surprised she remembered his name, even after he’d only said it once. He took hold of her hand and squeezed gently. “If you think this is good-bye, you’re wrong, Harley. I do remember asking you out before we got in the plane. I would still very much like to.”

  Her hand jerked in his grasp and Coach grinned, loving that he could surprise her. “Oh, but, I thought—”

  “You thought wrong. I’ll talk to my teammates. Let one of them take you home. If you’re feeling up to it, I’d love to see you in a few days. Make sure you’re doing okay. That gives me time to get rid of this monster headache so I can give you the attention you deserve.”

  “Um, okay, but if you change your mind—”

  Coach interrupted her again. “I’m not going to change my mind. The only thing that might change is how much time I let go by before seeing you again.”

  He loved the blush that blossomed over her cheeks.

  Coach tugged on the hand he still held. “I think we’re past the handshake stage. I could use a hug.” He released her hand and held his arms out.

  Harley leaned over him again and wrapped her arms awkwardly around his shoulders. He put his hands flat on her back, one on her spine and the other just above her ass, and held her to him. She squeezed him tightly and sighed, her breath wafting over his ear, making goosebumps break out on his arms. “Thank you for having a hard head and not dying, Coach.”

  He buried his nose into her neck for a moment. “Thank you for getting us out of the sky safely, Harley.”

  She nodded and pulled back, and Coach let go reluctantly. “Go home, Harley. Take off those clothes stained with my blood and throw them away. Take that bath, sleep. It’ll make you feel better. I’ll be in touch. Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I think I will.” She looked down at her dirty clothes for a moment, before bringing her eyes back up to his. “You need my number?”

  “Need it? No. But it would make things easier.”

  Harley was too tired to think about how he might be able to find her phone number without her giving it to him. “Okay, let me see if I can find a piece of paper to write it on.”

  “Just tell it to me. I’ll remember it.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Harley, I have an eidetic memory. If you say it to me once, I’ll remember it. Trust me.”

  She nodded and recited her number. Coach repeated it in his mind and visualized the numbers. “Got it, thank you. Have a good rest of the day. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “I’d like that. And you’re welcome.”

  Coach watched the sway of Harley’s hips as she left the room. She was an intriguing woman, one he couldn’t wait to get to know better.

  8

  The next night, Harley lay on her couch and thought about what a wuss she’d been. Jesus, she’d bawled over the man, and that wasn’t like her. She hated women who cried all the time. It was annoying and weak, and yet, there she’d been, snotting up a storm all over him.

  She’d been putting it off, but after sleeping for thirteen hours, a long bath, and a pep talk, it was time to call Montesa.

  Harley dialed and twisted on the couch until her feet were resting on the back and she was lying backwards, her head almost touching the floor. It was a weird position, but Harley didn’t care. It was comfortable.

  “Hey, Harl. How was the skydiving thing? I didn’t hear from you afterwards. You were supposed to call so I didn’t think you’d landed on your head or something.”

  Harley swallowed hard. Best to get it over with, like a Band-Aid. “So, you were right, sis. I should’ve just looked it up online. There was an accident. My jumpmaster got hit in the face with a bird and was knocked unconscious. But the emergency chute opened and we landed without too many issues. He was taken to the hospital, but he’s okay. Just had a broken nose and a concussion. I’m fine.” Harley’s words were rushed and to the point. It was never good to beat around the bush with her sister.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  Harley winced and held the phone away from the ear as Montesa continued to screech. Finally, hearing her wind down, Harley brought the phone back to her ear in time to hear her sister say, “—listen to me next time!”

  “You’re right. I should’ve listened to you,” Harley soothed. “You were right and I was wrong. But, before you claim big sister bragging rights for being correct, can I say something?”

  “What?”

  “I have to say, as much as the experience sucked, I did get what I needed for my code.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” Montesa snapped. “Figures you’d think that way. Davidson is home tomorrow. I’m moving our dinner up. Saturday night. My house. Be there.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Harley said meekly, although she was smiling inside. Montesa sounded tough, but Harley knew it was just because she was worried about her.

  They exchanged a few more platitudes and hung up. Harley put both arms over her head and touched the floor, stretching out her back. She had bruises on her hips where the harness had bit into her skin, and every muscle was sore. The scratches on her back from crawling under the barbed wire itched and were slightly bruised as well. She’d been tense for the entire jump, not surprising, and it would take a few days to work out all the kinks.

  The bruise on her face from where she’d smacked herself with her knees was still there, but it hadn’t turned an ugly purple, so Harley could live with it. Besides, it wasn’t as if she got out much anyway.

  Taking a deep breath, Harley did a crunch and pulled herself up into a sitting position on the couch, spinning so her feet were once more on the ground. She had a deadline for the game, it was time she got to it.

  Coach turned to Hollywood and said, “Thanks for staying last night. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem. You’ve done the same for me.”

  “And probably will again.”

  The two men shared a smile before Hollywood asked, “So what are you going to do about Harley?”

  Coach didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “I’m calling her later today.”

  “Good.” Hollywood nodded approvingly. “She seemed a bit freaked out about the whole thing, but I can’t blame her. You gotta tread lightly though. She didn’t seem that comfortable w
ith all of us in the waiting room. She did loosen up a bit with Annie, not surprisingly. That kid could make even a serial killer melt. But seriously, she’s not like Rayne, or even Emily.”

  “I wouldn’t want her to be,” Coach responded immediately. “Look. I don’t know how Ghost or Fletch felt when they met their women, but something with Harley resonates with me. She’s smart as hell, but shy. She writes code for video games for a living. That’s why she was jumping in the first place…wanted to get it right for the game or something. But the little I got to know her before we went up was…” Coach’s voice trailed off, not knowing how to explain it to his teammate.

  “Right?” Hollywood suggested.

  “Yeah. Right. It’s as good a word as any. I’m not an idiot, I see how women sometimes look at me. I’m not hard on the eyes, but it was as if Harley saw me, not my body.”

  Hollywood nodded. “If anyone understands that, it’s me. You deserve it, man. Anything you need from me, you know you got it.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. Did the guys get her car back to her place?”

  “Yeah. That thing’s a piece of shit,” Hollywood observed with a smile.

  Coach looked concerned. “Really? Damn, I didn’t even ask what kind of car she drove.”

  “It’s a Ford Focus. Mid-two thousands model. Tires have definitely seen better days. They’re almost bald.”

  “Shit. That thing’s a death trap,” Coach grumbled.

  “I’m not sure I’d go that far. She’s taken good care of it, obviously, but it still has some weird rattling noise and the tires need rotating at the very least. Fletch said he’d take a look at it.”

  “Appreciate it. He’s the best at tinkering with machines.”

  “Yeah. You talk to your friend at the skydiving place yet?”

  “Tommy? Yeah, he called this morning.”

  “Was he freaked?”

  Coach nodded. “Oh yeah. But, the AAD did just what it was supposed to do. Went off as calibrated. He’s a little pissed that his safety record of no accidents has been blasted all to hell though.”

 

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