by Dee Palmer
“Hope, really not the time. Look, I need you to call one of the guys. Doesn’t matter who, you just need to call them and tell them to come pick me up at the airport. Tell them I’m sorry, that I fucked right up, and that they might have to explain I’m not a terrorist.”
“A what now?” she stutters, and I pinch the instant pressure at the bridge of my nose and squeeze the pain from my eyes with tightly squeezed lids.
“Please, Hope, it’s really important. I have twenty-four hours or they’re gonna, deport me, and I won’t be allowed back, ever.”
“Shit! Okay, babe. I’m on it.” She hangs up.
She hangs up!
Nooo! Shit! She cuts the call before I can give her their real names, the address even. How the fuck is she going to call them? I’m going to get deported.
That was the longest night of my life. I’m still in the cell Captain Airport escorted me to last night, after my wasted phone call. They brought some food—and I use the term loosely—last night, this morning and again at lunch time. Other than the silence of the officer handing me my tray, I have been left to my own thoughts. They are getting darker as the minutes drag. I didn’t sleep at all, and that little anxious knot in my stomach is now the size of the Indiana Jones boulder in Raiders. I jump when the door swings wide, and my breath catches, then releases with all the disappointment I have been harboring throughout the night.
“You’re booked on the ten-thirty flight this evening, but since you’re already through security we won’t need to move you until an hour beforehand. You have one more hour here. I just thought I would let you know so you can relax and stop thinking Prince Charming’s about to come to rescue your ass.”
“Well, thank you for having my peace of mind so high on your priority list to take time out of your busy day. Dream squashing must just eat up the workday hours for you.” I snip with thin lips and narrow eyes.
“Cute.” He slams the door, his wide smug smile is the very last thing I see as tears fill my eyes, and I drop my head in my hands. I really don’t know what I was expecting. I screwed up, and this is my Karma. I have my memories of the most amazing time in my pathetic life that will keep me warm at night with my cats. I need to buy some cats. I lie down and bury my head in my folded arms, the pillow barely rises above the thickness of the paper-thin mattress. I feel the touch on my shoulder and scramble to get away.
“Don’t fucking touch me—”
“Hey, hey, darling.” His soothing voice breaks me, and I fling my arms out wide at a startled and completely gorgeous Pink bending over me, grabbing him tight. Nestling into his neck and breathing in his earthy warm smell, my tears flow like a burst damn.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I made such a mistake. I’m so sorry, Pink. I…”
“We know, darling. We know. We tried to come and get you, but the airport was on lock-down, some terrorist threat.” He holds my shoulders as I sit back, while his soft teasing smile and the crinkle in the corner of his eyes fucking undo me.
“That was me, but I’m not…” I try to explain, but he shakes his head and laughs lightly.
“I know, darling, and so do they now. Come on, baby, let’s get you home, where you belong.” He takes my hand and pulls me to his body, there’s absolutely no resistance. I throw my arms around his trim waist, and his big arms envelop me. So, so good. I lift my chin so it rests on his chest, and he looks down with a sweet and happy grin.
“Take me home,” I whisper, and his mouth drops to swallow my words.
I had to sign some papers, and Pink already had my troublesome luggage in the truck. I actually only started to breathe easy when we hit the freeway. I kept thinking Captain Airport was going to change his mind and throw me on the damn plane regardless of my new non-terrorist status, as vouched for by an ex-service man and a currently serving Navy SEAL. Pink reaches over to take my hand, and Tug holds my other hand in his, as I’m wedged between them on the front bench seat.
“How did Hope get hold of you? I couldn’t remember any of your numbers. I don’t think I even had them on my phone, other than Charge’s, and she hung up before I could give her your real names.” I ask once I’m sure we are headed home.
“Flowers.” Pink’s one word statement is pretty cryptic and his wink cute.
“Sorry?”
“She sent us flowers. She had our address but not much else. She tracked me down on Facebook, since the Stables has a page that I run, but I don’t check if often, and when I didn’t reply straight away she sent flowers. Got the delivery just after lunch.”
“Flowers?” I repeat out loud.
“Yeah, the message said ‘Check you’re fucking Facebook messages, Finn needs you’.” He chuckles.
“Ah.” I snort out a laugh. “That sounds like Hope.”
“She put her number in the message, and I called right away,” Pink informs me, and Tug adds his two cents.
“Smart girl.” Tug nudges me and pulls me into a sideways hug.
“She really is. I owe her big time.” I nestle into his hard chest and relish the warmth from his hold.
“We all do.” Pink exhales the sentiment with a breath filled with relief.
“Is Charge very angry with me?” I ask after we’ve driven a bit further, and it’s the only thing that’s niggling a big fat hole in my mind.
“Angry?” Pink turns, and has a curious quirk to his mouth and tilts his head like he didn’t hear me right.
“Well, disappointed. Is he disappointed I didn’t choose you guys?” I clarify.
“But you did. He said you did. You just didn’t know it,” Tug offers, and Pink smiles wide and nods his agreement. “It’s why we came after you because he was convinced you weren’t going to board the plane and he wanted to be there for you.”
“But not enough to come with you to get me?” My voice is soft and I can’t hide my own disappointment.
“Darling, trust me he would be here if he could. Toxic and he got the call. They were deployed.” Pink rests his hand on my thigh, but my head snaps round at his shocking statement.
“What! He never said anything about leaving.” My voice pitched really high and squeaky with panic. I cough and try to regain at little composure.
“He didn’t know. Got the call just as we hit the traffic.” Tug shrugs, giving a tight apologetic smile.
“Is that normal? No notice, I mean.” The panic has evaporated as quickly as it came, but it’s replaced with a surge of unwelcome worry.
“For the Special Ops guys, yeah.”
“Oh, God, I feel sick.” I fold over and place my head between my knees, sucking in some steady deep breaths until the nausea fades.
“Hey, sugar, it’s fine. It’s the job.” Two large hands sweep and soothe my back as I’m hunched over. I puff out some air and sit back. I can’t quite manage a smile but I give a short nod.
“I guess. I just…I would’ve wanted to tell him, tell them, I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. He’ll be stoked you’re back. That’s all that counts.” Pink tries his best to reassure me, but it’s really hard when we parted the way we did. And it being all my fault doesn’t sit at all well.
“Will he call?”
“Depends.” Tug looks over to Pink, but he just shrugs.
“Oh.” I feel the weight of my unease press heavy on my chest and my heart. I know I won’t feel any better until they are home. I guess I don’t have a choice except to wait it out.
“It’s the job.” Tug shrugs again. It seems shrugging is explanation enough for this shitty situation.
“Yeah, okay.” I slump back and find myself mimicking their shoulder movement in defeat. If you can’t beat ‘em…
“WHERE’S FINN?” TUG IS POURING a fresh pot of coffee, and I’ve just finished up at the stables. It’s been three weeks since we brought her home and I know she’s trying, but she’s sort of drifting without the others. It hasn’t helped that Charge didn’t return my message, which meant he cou
ldn’t.
“Where do you think?” Tug rolls his eyes in the direction of Charge’s study, Finn’s go-to hiding place.
“Of course.” Tug takes a sip of his steaming black drink and gives a wry knowing grin.
“I don’t even want to think it, let alone say it out loud, but do you really think she’s cut out for this life, and I don’t mean us four, I mean the job?” I keep my voice low, even though the door to the study is shut.
“I asked her the same thing the other day; she’s adamant it’s because she didn’t get to apologize. You know, she feels she didn’t get to make it right, like she has with us,” Tug explains.
“Yeah, that makes sense, but it can’t help having all this time to mope either.” I drag my hand through my hair and an idea starts to form. “She told me the other day she’s never had so much free time. She’s always worked.” I spin the iPad that he’s messing around on toward me and start to tap in some key words. It only takes a moment and I’m all set to pat myself on the back. “Right, well, I know just the thing to keep her mind off—”
“Yeah, me, too, man,” Tug groans, and I punch him lightly on his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean that.” His crassness deserves another punch, and he ducks away, chuckling.
“Yeah, you did, but okay. What are you talking about?”
“The Ark Project down by the Bay.” I tap the screen and swipe to enlarge.
“A shelter for homeless families?”
“Yeah, she can’t work on her visa but she can volunteer, and she used to do that in the UK. I think she needs a distraction.” I hold my palm up to halt the words I’m sure are crudely poised on the tip of his tongue as his free hand grabs his dick. “Other than your cock, asshole.”
“I don’t know; she was pretty distracted last night.” His tone is playful with a touch of filth.
“Yeah, she was.” I drag my hand through my hair again as the images flash in my mind and fire like lightning right through me, mainlining straight to my balls. Finn’s sweet, sexy body cocooned between us, writhing and supple, hot and demanding. Those breathless pleas that fell from her lips when she exploded in our hands were like a choir of fucking angels in my ears, so damn good.
“You coming?” I start to walk in the direction of the study. Tug’s eyes light up, and I want to throat punch him for his one-track mind, but when it comes to her, I’m not that much better.
“I’m taking her down to The Ark. Do you want to come with us?” I slow the words right down and am rewarded with a snarky scowl.
“I knew that, and, yeah, I’ll come.” He downs his coffee and jumps up to follow me.
I open the door and Finn looks up; a big, easy smile lights her face. She has her knees pulled up and is semi-snuggled in the corner of the worn and weathered sofa Charge won’t throw out.
“Hey, darling. Wanna go for a drive?” I ask, leaning my shoulder on the doorframe.
“Oh, no, I’m fine. I’m good, reading.” She waves her tablet at me as if that will stop me.
“Yeah…no.” I step to her side and take the device from her fingertips. Her nose wrinkles in protest, but she doesn’t resist. “Enough with the moping. We’re taking you to do some good. So go get your scissors and shit, and meet me out front in five.” My tone is as demanding as Charge’s would be, and it obviously works, because she’s sitting upright, ready to obey.
“What?” She jumps to her feet, eager but a little confused.
“Go. Shift that sexy little ass, and I’ll explain on the way.” I step back to let her move, which she does, even as her frown deepens. She reaches the door and spins.
“My visa won’t let me work. I don’t want to get into any more trouble.”
“You’re not working. You’re volunteering.” Her face shines with happiness at my words, and I get a real kick that I made her smile.
“Oh, cool! Give me a minute.”
“Take your time, darling. I’ve given you a full five of them.”
Snickering, she dashes up the stairs, her bare feet thumping overhead like a mini stampede.
We pull into the industrial site and follow the signs to The Ark. It’s a converted warehouse which looks bright and inviting against the backdrop of a rather dilapidated part of the city. The surrounding buildings are run-down, vacant, and should probably be condemned. My eyes flick to Tug, and I can see the concern in his expression mirrors the twist in my stomach. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
I made a call to the center and spoke to the director of the facility while Finn was getting her things, and I know they are excited and certainly sounded grateful for the offer. Finn is practically jumping in her seat, so I’m not about to tell her I don’t think this is going to work for us. I barely get the key out of the ignition when she’s pushing Tug to allow her out, slinging her satchel over her shoulder, and striding off to the door, leaving us both to gawk after her like idiots.
“We can’t leave her here.” Tug voices my concern, and I let out a resigned puff of air.
“I’m not sure we’ll have much of a choice. You saw the look on her face. I’m not thrilled with the location, either, but this is just what she needs to get her mind off Charge and Toxic.” Tug gives a light shrug; from his expression, though, he’s far from convinced. By the time we’ve entered the building, Finn is already crouched down on her knees talking to a small girl with straggly, long, dark hair, clutching a panda with one leg missing. Finn looks over to us and the little girl runs in the opposite direction, straight into the waiting, welcoming arms of a man I assume is her father. Finn walks back to us and introduces us to Heather.
“Guys, this is Heather. She’s the director here. Heather, this is Tug and Pink—don’t ask.” She grins, and I don’t know whether she’s referring to our nicknames or our relationship. It doesn’t matter; Heather offers a friendly smile and shakes each of our offered hands.
“Nice to meet you. We spoke on the phone, thank you for dropping her off. So, how long have we got?” Heather asks.
“Excuse me?” I know I sound dumb, but I feel like I’ve missed a huge chunk of the conversation.
“Finn said she can stay, but she doesn’t know how long. I just need to know how many people I can tell they are getting their hair cut today?” Heather smiles brightly, and Finn does the same.
“You’re staying? Now?” Tug chips in, taking the words right from my mouth.
“That was the idea.” She tilts her head, and a sweet smile tips her lips.
“Right, of course. I don’t know, a couple of hours?” I offer.
“How about I call you when I’m done, and we can grab something to eat on the way back.” Finn grins and rubs her hands together with uncontainable excitement.
“Sure.” I reluctantly agree. “You have my number right?” I level an accusatory stare at her, and she rolls her eyes. Given her recent trouble with phone numbers, the sass has absolutely no justification.
“I do now.” She waves her phone at me. “And it’s fully charged.” I pull her into a hug and rub her hair in a playful reprimand.
“Good.” I kiss her cheek, and Tug does the same. We both cast a look back, but Finn is already being led away.
“She’ll be fine.” Tug pats my shoulder, and I groan.
“I need a beer.”
We drive a little farther into town and hit a bar. Neither of us wanted to go back to the farm just in case Finn decides she needs us, so we shoot pool for a few hours, watch a game on the wide screen and check our phones every five fucking minutes. Five hours later, we get the call. She’s waiting outside and that pisses me off. I floor the truck as soon as I recognize it’s her, and I screech to a halt making her jump and drop her phone. I leap from the cab and am towering over her, as she picks up the pieces of her now shattered phone.
“What the hell, Pink! You scared the crap out of me,” she snaps.
“What the fuck are you doing out here?” I snap right back.
“Waiting for you, duh!” S
he narrows her eyes just before rolling them at my question.
“Not outside, understand?” I drop down on my haunches to make sure she can see my eyes.
“No, not really. Dammit, Pink, look at my phone.” I help her pick up the pieces at her dejected tone.
“We’ll get a new one tomorrow, but no more waiting outside on your own, okay? It’s dangerous, and you’re too precious.” Her face scrunches with a frown.
“Heather only left a minute ago.” she offers, looking a little sheepish.
“It only takes a minute,” Tug states from the truck, clearly hearing every word exchanged.
“I can take care of myself. I’ve taken classes.” Her retort is feisty.
‘“Oh, really?” Tug chuckles, and Finn narrows her eyes. She pulls herself up straight and stands as tall as her five-foot-five frame allows. Stepping flush against Tug, who’s now out of the truck. From over her shoulder I can see his eyes widen and his pupils dilate. His chest puffs with a sharp intake of breath. He’s a big guy, we all are, and built too; at the moment, however, I’m not sure who I’d place my bet on in this impromptu standoff.
“Happy to show you, big boy.” Her sultry tone belies some dark intent, and Tug’s lips carve a deviant smile until she strikes. “But you might be needing these a little later.” She slaps her hand hard into his crotch and he grunts out a loud curse, tensing and tipping away at the hips just enough to avoid none of the impact but all of the injury. I felt that.
“Okay.” Tug chokes out a cough and massages his balls once we’re back in the truck. “I’m still going to go over some other moves with you, just to be sure.”
“That’s really sweet, but I—”
She doesn’t get to finish whatever she was going to say because I state emphatically.
“Not negotiable, darling. It’s more than just your sweet ass on the line. Both our nuts would be on the chopping block if Charge found out.”
“Have you heard from him?” she asks, sagging when I shake my head.
