Twisted Honor (Deep Six Security Series, #2)

by Becky McGraw

  The man was a control freak evidently.

  “No, I have a report running, and it will stop when it’s finished.” He looked at the sky when a faint whooshing sound echoed through the compound. “Oh, there’s Hawk. I’ve got to go, they’ll be at the pad in five, and Hawk gets kind of testy if he has to wait.”

  Taylor looked up, as the noise got louder, and shaded her eyes to look at the afternoon sky. Her eyes zoned in on a black dot which grew larger, and larger and realized it was a black helicopter then slid to Dexter who got into a Humvee much like Slade’s to drive across the compound. He disappeared after he rounded the barracks and she wondered where exactly this pad was located.

  The helicopter passed directly over the compound but it didn’t touch down. After hovering high above for a moment, it shot forward over the woods and disappeared. Taylor heard Buddy bark, but it sounded very distant. She wouldn’t doubt if she was deaf from the loud engine noise that still rang inside her skull. Glancing toward the gate, Taylor saw Fletch’s truck pull through, but she didn’t see Buddy.

  Suddenly a flash of golden fur darted from behind and Buddy appeared hot on the heels of a squirrel. The little animal streaked through the gate and Buddy followed right before it closed shut. Taylor took off running, and Fletcher honked the horn and waved, but she didn’t stop.

  The gate was almost closed when she got there, but she squeezed through. Dragging in breaths, Taylor looked up and down the road for Buddy, and finally saw him trotting along the shoulder of the road in the distance.

  She took off running, a pain sliced through her side, but she held it and still ran. Her chest burned badly telling her just how out of shape she’d become in the last year, and she would do something about that soon. As soon as this was over, she’d go back to the dojo where she hadn’t gone in six months, since Mark left.

  But right now she had a dog to catch, and she was losing ground on him.

  “Buddy, sitz!” she shouted, hoping he would obey the command.

  He didn’t and Taylor tried to pick up her pace and gain ground as she passed the end of the tall fence surrounding the compound. The sun suddenly disappeared as tall woods appeared to occlude it, sweat streaked down her neck, slid down her spine to her yoga pants, her legs went numb, but she didn’t stop running.

  When she passed a wide dirt trail leading into the woods, she heard an engine rev loudly, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off of Buddy, who had now moved down in the ditch at the side of the road to sniff something there. Taylor was thankful, because she was about out of gas. She could barely breathe as she slid down the steep embankment and walked toward him.

  Tires squealed back down the roadway, but she was too tired to look back. She was going to drag Buddy back to the compound then she was taking another shower. Taylor stopped to swipe her arm over her forehead, then wiped it on her pants. A pop preceded what felt like a stinging mosquito bite on her arm, and she slapped her arm.

  She moved her hand she saw blood on her fingers—too much for a mosquito bite. Her stomach rolled as she looked back over her shoulder just as a black SUV pulled to a stop about fifty yards from her. The doors of the truck flew open, two men piled out and Taylor screamed as she started running.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Adrenaline shot through her and Taylor screamed again, as she ran down the ditch. She needed to get into those woods for cover, she thought, clawing her way up the back of the embankment. Another shot ricocheted off of a tree very close to her ear as she entered the woods, and adrenaline shot through her making her heart pound.

  The men behind her shouted in a foreign language, and it echoed in the woods to ring inside of her skull. Buddy barked loudly and Taylor prayed they didn’t shoot him. She prayed harder they didn’t get a good shot on her, as she weaved and dodged through the trees blindly. She couldn’t run forever, she thought barely dragging in breaths her chest was so tight, in fact she couldn’t run much longer at all.

  Think. Anticipate. Prepare.

  She drew on her martial arts training and it calmed her, as she scanned the area in front of her for a place to set up as she ran. Do what they don’t expect you to do because you’re small—go on the offensive. Hide and take them off guard.

  But where? Taylor finally stopped when she couldn’t run another step and looked around the woods for a place to hide. Trees and more trees. Since she was small, she could hide behind one, but that wasn’t enough cover. Her feet started moving again, but at a walk as she continued to scan the area for some kind of cover. The men made a lot of noise in the woods behind her as they searched for her, so she knew exactly how far back they were.

  She needed somewhere with space to fight, but she also needed a place to hide so she had surprise on her side. A large boulder caught her eye, and Taylor stopped to make sure she couldn’t be penned in there. It was a clearing in that the trees were farther apart, so she had room, and that rock would surely be better protection from bullets than a tree.

  Taylor jogged over there and crouched behind it to wait. She meditated, focused on controlling breathing, and harnessing her energy.

  The men’s heavy footsteps drew nearer, Taylor’s muscles tensed, and she bit back a whimper. To get ready, she inhaled deeply and exhaled, and forced her muscles to loosen and to relax. She shook out her arms and stretched her legs to rotate her ankles.

  Buddy’s playful bark, like he thought finding her was a game, made her blood run cold with fear. It was a game—of life or death, and if he outed her she lost more than the game, she lost her life. But the puppy couldn’t know that, as he continued yapping as he bounded through the woods breaking sticks and rustling leaves.

  When his playful noises told her he was within ten feet of the rock, Taylor stopped breathing. Buddy took two more rustling steps toward her, then barked and she knew he’d found her. She had a decision to make, or those men would too.

  Stand and fight here or run?

  The men’s gait picked up, and they shouted excitedly. Taylor shot to her feet, rounded the rock deciding to run, but she knew she’d waited too long when her eyes met a pair of cold, flat eyes and the business end of a Glock pointed directly at the center of her chest.

  The man was at the perfect distance to shoot her, and she was too far away to stop him.

  Think. Anticipate. Prepare.

  Taylor raised her hands high, flashed her eyes and forced her mouth into a smile that she hoped was sexy. She took a step toward him exaggerating her walk, sticking out her chest.

  Eight more feet.

  His eyes left hers to skim down her body then snagged on her breasts on the way back up and stayed there. He licked his lips and his face flushed.

  Five more feet.

  A man would be dead by now, but she had her body to use as a weapon. And her size. Because she was small this big brute probably thought she was harmless. And she was, unless she could get close enough to him.

  Taylor kept walking toward him, slowly and carefully. She kept her eyes steady, but watched the arm holding the gun drift lower.

  Three more feet. Almost there.

  Suddenly, the man’s body jerked as if he woke up and the gun pointed directly at her heart again. Now or never, she thought.

  “Hiyaaaah!” she shouted, and it echoed through the woods as she brought her forearm against his to push the weapon aside. Her right hand rolled behind it and she jerked the pistol out of his grasp by the barrel.

  With no time to reverse it, she tossed it aside and brought the heel of her hand up under his chin. His head rocked back and when it snapped down she landed a second punch to his nose. Bones crunched as it shifted to the left and blood spurted out to drip down his chin. A fierce growl rumbled in his throat, then fire lit his eyes as he charged her. Taylor feinted to land a hard blow to his sternum as he lumbered by, and he grunted.

  He spun, flailed his arms to grab for her, but Taylor sidestepped him and brought her heel up in a hard strike right above his kneecap. It made a
sickening crunch as his knee popped out of joint, and he screamed loudly as he staggered back and fell to the ground. Pressing her advantage, Taylor went in for the kill shot, a kick to his temple, but he held up his hands to whimper as he scooted back from her using his good leg.

  Turning, her heart pounded as she searched for the gun, but she didn’t see it. Buddy barked again, and she spun. He appeared in the clearing, and behind him stood another man with a pistol who had it aimed right between her eyes. Twelve feet or so separated them, and this man’s look said he wasn’t falling for her games.

  When the man on the ground spoke rapidly to him in whatever language they spoke, his face turned red, his eyes swung back to her, and he raised his arm. Taylor squeezed her eyes closed, because she didn’t want to see the bullet that killed her. A shot rang out and her body went cold. A floaty feeling washed through her that felt very peaceful, surreal. Her hair felt light and her ears buzzed.

  Was this it? Was this how it felt to be dead?

  She hadn’t had any pain, so that’s a good thing. But where the hell was the bright white light that everyone who’d died and come back talked about?

  Taylor wondered if this was how her father felt when he took his last breath. If so, it wasn’t all that bad really. Excitement even buzzed through her. She’d get to see him soon. He could hug her again and tell her it was going to be fine. They would be fine. He’d probably ask about her mother. Oh God—how would she tell him that she was remarried?

  No, her father wouldn’t care. He’d want her mother to be happy. He knew when he joined the service that he might die. They both knew that. Too bad Taylor hadn’t realized it, because then maybe she wouldn’t have been so damned torn apart when it happened.

  “Taylor, breathe!” someone shouted, then her right cheek stung, before her left caught on fire and her eyes popped open. Fletch stood in front of her, but he wasn’t wearing white.

  They’d sent him to carry her to the pearly gates?

  Taylor fought the hysterical laughter that bubbled in her chest. It had to be some cosmic joke. But he released her shoulder and stepped back to stuff a pistol in his waistband of his cargo pants and she didn’t float off. Her breath whooshed out of her lungs and they burned.

  “I’m not dead?” she asked, her voice a squeak.

  “No, but that Arab over there probably wishes you were.” Fletcher hitched his thumb, and glanced toward the injured man who sat against a tree glaring at her. “Remind me never to piss you off again, okay?” he said with a laugh.

  Taylor glanced around Fletch and saw the other guy lying face down in the leaves not moving. A bloodstain covered his back, and Taylor saw a bullet hole in his white shirt near his left shoulder. “Is he—”

  “No, he just passed out, I think.” Fletch shrugged as if he shot men every day. Who knows, maybe he did. These Deep Six guys were a strange bunch. “I’ll call Hawk to haul his ass to the hospital.” Fletcher’s eyes got deadly serious. She’d never seen the snarky man that way before. “The other one goes back to the compound with us though. I’m sure Slade will be very interested to find out why he was shooting at you.”

  “I’d be interested in knowing that too,” Taylor replied.

  Fletch pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Two tangos down. One GSW needs transport to the hospital...” He laughed, then his eyes slid to her. “The other tangled with a little keg of dynamite and got his ass kicked, but he’s mobile...roger—we’ll wait.”

  Buddy walked up to her and licked her hand. It was obvious he was scared. As scared as Taylor should have been during the ordeal. She knelt down and stroked her hand over his head, then started shaking. Not a normal shake. Her whole body shook so hard her teeth rattled and her brain vibrated in her skull as she sat back on her ass. Sweat streaked through her hair to slide down her temples. Her ears rang loudly and suddenly her throat closed off. Reaching up her hand she clawed at it as she fought to draw breath.

  Black dots danced in her line of sight and panic seized her. Taylor couldn’t speak, but looked up at Fletch, and he suddenly realized she had a problem. Kneeling down beside her he grabbed her shoulders, but it was too late. Everything went black, and Taylor absolutely could not believe she’d survived all that just to die.

  Taylor’s eyes fluttered open and a loud whooshing noise deafened her. That was nothing compared to the vibrations under her back though. She felt them in her teeth. Her eyes darted around as she tried to figure out exactly where she was. Her eyes flew out the window then slammed shut, against the blindingly bright sunlight that reflected off of puffy white clouds to pierce her brain.

  Was she in heaven?

  Those clouds looked awfully close.

  Her heart sped up and her chest tightened, then she realized she wouldn’t have a heartbeat if she were dead. She opened her eyes again and tried to sit up, but a hand dropped on her shoulder to push her back down.

  “She’s awake, radio Slade,” Levi said into a small wire by his mouth as his eyes met hers. “We’ll be at the hospital in a few. Just relax.”

  Taylor took inventory of every bone and muscle in her body. Other than feeling like she was wrung out inside and her head stuffed with cotton, she didn’t hurt anywhere. Shaking off Levi’s hand, she sat up.

  “I don’t want to go to the hospital!” she shouted, because with his headphones on and the noise, she didn’t think he’d hear her otherwise.

  “You need to go,” he yelled back.

  “No, I’m fine!” Taylor shouted.

  The helicopter dipped, the man lying on the floor beside her, the Arab thug that Fletch had shot, moaned and Taylor’s stomach lurched. She might not be okay though, if she didn’t get herself into a seat and put on a seatbelt.

  Scooting on her butt, she moved around Levi and across the floor toward the row of three seats at the back of the helicopter. The helicopter dipped again to the right this time, and she whimpered as she dragged herself up into a seat. Her hands shook as she grabbed the ends of the belt and yanked them across her lap to snap them.

  Taylor did not like to fly, she’d only done it twice in her life, and now she was doing it in an aircraft that was a lot less stable than a jumbo jet.

  Levi’s eyes slid over her body, then moved back to meet hers. “Hawk, radio Slade and tell him to abort. She says she’s fine.”

  Taylor’s shoulders relaxed, and she huffed a breath. She knew she’d been unconscious, but had no idea why. All she remembered was what happened in those woods, those men chasing her and her taking one down, and Fletch shooting the other man. The one who was moaning on the floor of the helicopter, which meant he wasn’t dead either, but the fact that his white shirt was now almost red said that he needed to be at a hospital or he might be soon.

  During the landing Hawk made on the big X on the rooftop of the hospital, Taylor kept her eyes squeezed shut, and her fingers firmly dug into the cushioned armrests of her seat. Somehow she managed not to throw up, but it had been a close call. When he took off again shortly after, she held her breath. Takeoff had been a little smoother, but she still didn’t dare look out the window.

  A hand patted hers and she opened her eyes. Levi sat beside her, and a smile kicked up the left corner of his mouth, as he leaned closer to her ear.

  “Slade says to tell you Caleb brought Buddy back to the compound and he’s fine. He also says to tell you he’s going to kick your ass when we get back. I told him to save me a seat up front.” Leaning away, he threw his head back and laughed. That meant Slade was back at the compound safely too.

  Slade was back at the compound safely.

  Her breath came easier as she laid her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. The whir of the helicopter rotors suddenly became soothing to her, and she drifted off to sleep remembering their kiss before he left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Slade didn’t know how much more he could take. He was a man living on the edge, and the drop when he tumbled over looked to be farther a
nd farther by the minute. Thirty minutes were added to that drop, while he stood and watched, held his breath beside the Humvee, as Hawk descended toward the pad.

  Taylor Kincaid could have been killed today and it would’ve been his fault, because he was responsible for keeping her safe. For keeping all of the Deep Six employees safe, while Logan was away. She’d not only endangered her life with her stupidity today, she could’ve gotten three of his men killed too.

  What in the fuck possessed her to leave the compound, when he’d specifically told her to say put before he left?

  As it was, because of her, Fletcher would be no help to them for a while, since he was down at the police station being questioned about the shooting and would probably be there at least until morning. But Slade was so damned thankful that Fletch had gone after her when he heard the gunshots.

  If not, she would be dead right now.

  His insides quivered and his heart jerked, as he squinted against the dust thrown up to swirl around his head when the skids finally touched down on the pavement. Ducking, he ran for the door, but it opened as he reached the edge of the pad. Caleb hopped out and tried to stop him, but Slade only wanted to see one person, and she was still inside unbuckling her seat belt.

  She looked up with a gasp when he stuck his head inside the door. Slade just held her eyes, drank in her beautiful, but pale face and ground his teeth as he tried to decide whether he wanted to kill her or kiss the hell out of her.

  The blades finally stopped and the engine noise wound down, but it still echoed in his head as she dragged her hands down to her lap and finished releasing the belt. She eased out of the seat to stand, but her knees buckled and she caught herself on the armrest.

  “Do you need help?” he ground out, putting his knee in the door opening.

  “No, I’m fine,” she replied, before making her way to the door. Slade didn’t move, and she put her hands on his shoulders. “Move, so I can get out.”