Ice

by Chelsea Camaron

  A man approaches her cage, syringe in hand. We all watch helplessly in horror as he unlocks the door. When Madyson scurries into the corner of her enclosure as if she could somehow be swallowed up by the ground and hide, the man reaches out and grabs her leg. She shakes her head back and forth, hitting the sides of the cage. She kicks out, and he yanks on her harshly, causing her head to bang on the back of the enclosure. Unable to do anything except watch as she is drugged against her will, anger boils inside me like never before.

  “I will kill every single one of these fuckers slowly, painfully, and with vengeance for every single needle they have injected into each one of these women,” I state to the room coldly.

  I watch as her body relaxes, and then the man tosses her leg back inside and closes the door. She is unmoving, unresponsive, and I can only send up a prayer that she will wake up after whatever is in her system passes through.

  “Are you gonna tell Morgan that we found her?” Hammer asks.

  I shake my head no.

  “If it were Brooke, you would want to know. You would want the hope and knowledge that she is still breathing,” Coal remarks.

  “For how long, huh? I can’t promise her we will make it in time if we can’t lock in on a location soon. She can’t handle this.” I let my irritation show.

  Hammer snorts. “She can’t handle it, or you can’t handle the possibility of letting her down? How do you know she can’t cope? How do you know this isn’t the shred of hope she needs to keep going? She’s never had to face anything like this.”

  “I can’t fail her or Madyson,” I say, meeting my brother’s stare.

  “You won’t. Morgan is tough. She didn’t hesitate to take in her sister. She doesn’t back down from you, and you’re a scary motherfucker. She can handle this. Honestly, she is one of only a handful of women that could be strong knowing what we do.”

  “What are you getting at, Hammer?”

  “Just saying she’s different.”

  “This is a conversation best suited for a different time,” I state as my agitation grows. I don’t need to stand around talking about Morgan when I need to find these trapped women.

  “Agreed,” Hammer replies. “The conversation will happen, though, at a better time.”

  I nod my head, knowing he is as stubborn as a mule. He is locked onto this, there is no changing his mind.

  “We need a plan. We need a solid headcount. As soon as we have a lock on their location, we’re going in. Fuck the FBI and any other jackass in a uniform. I’m not waitin’ around. When we have a definite spot, we’re engaging. We need Crissy to get something set up for the girls, and Doc will need to be on stand-by.”

  The guys all nod their heads in agreement as they mentally get in the zone for what we will need after we recover the captured women.

  “Vans, we’ll need multiple vans. This isn’t going to sound fair or nice, but damn, we gotta be safe,” Skid pipes in with a disgusted look on his face. “We need to cover the cages and transport the girls out that way.”

  Coal looks darkly at our brother.

  “Here me out,” Skid adds, taking note of his reaction. “We don’t know if the needles have been shared. Some of these women were users before getting kidnapped. Now they’ve been whored out, too. Before we risk getting scratched, bitten, or otherwise attacked, I think we need to be smart.”

  Coal pushes off from the table and turns to stare at the wall. Without looking at them, I know none of the men in the room like having to put Coal through this mission. It is bringing too much up from his twisted past. Although his circumstances were different, aspects of this case are close enough to what happened when he was younger to fuck with his head. I wish I had time to sit my brother down, talk to him about it like I probably should have done a long time ago; however, we don’t have time for it now.

  “I get it, Coal. We need to be safe, though. Once we get them to the safe house, slowly, one by one, we can release them. This is different than anything we’ve done in the past. This is ten times the amount of packages to be picked up and delivered to safety from a hostile zone we’re infiltrating. Add to that an unknown amount of guards, and the level of danger further escalates. As much as I don’t like it, Skid’s right.

  “Think about it. We’re going into hostile territory, which means getting in and out quickly. We don’t have the time to be fighting with half drugged women who could be infected with AIDS, for crying out loud. I don’t like the idea of traumatizing them any more than you do, but I don’t want to get scratched by a hysterical woman and end up with a disease, either. We gotta be smart. You fuckin’ know this.”

  “Knowin’ it doesn’t make it any easier,” Coal answers, blowing out a breath.

  “Nothin’ about what we do is ever easy,” Hammer says as a sober silence fills the room. We can all see a woman, three cages down from Madyson, is having a seizure.

  “Find the damn location, Screech!” I roar before slamming my fist into the wall, causing two of his monitors to fall and shatter. I don’t care. All of this equipment is nothing but a useless pile of junk if we can’t find the source of the feeds.

  Chapter

  14

  Ice

  Getting home, I am kicking myself for being so late. I walk into my living room and find Morgan asleep in my chair, the remote on the floor by her feet. I loudly move around in the hope she will wake up. She can sleep in the guest room, but I don’t want to be the one to move her.

  Going in the kitchen, I find a note on the counter.

  Your dinner plate is in the microwave. Dessert is a chocolate mousse in the fridge. You shouldn’t choke on that. ~M~

  I smile at her attitude, even in a letter. This woman challenges me in a way I have never been tested.

  After eating my dinner and dessert, I clean up the kitchen, again loudly. When I arrive back in the living room, she hasn’t moved.

  Damn. She must sleep like the dead. I haven’t managed to sleep like that since before basic training. A man learns to keep one ear open and run on little sleep when his life could depend upon it. Still, it does something to me to see her sleeping so soundly in my house after I know how she has run herself into the ground the last several days worrying over her sister.

  Scooping her up, I start to take her into the guest room; however, I look down and see the tear lines, she has obviously been crying tonight. With as tired as Morgan’s been, I do not want to leave her sleeping in a chair that might hurt her neck and back. I also do not like the idea of putting her in the guest room, because I know the mattress is not in the best shape anymore and can be uncomfortable to sleep on. The woman is dog tired and deserves a good night’s sleep. There is only one available bed in the house left, and that is in my room. It means giving up my own bed for the night, but it won’t kill me to sleep on a shitty mattress. I have slept on far worse in my Army days. Therefore, I follow my instincts and make my way up the stairs to my room with her.

  Tucking her into my bed, I then wait for her to wake up and want to leave, to protest being in my room. The prickly woman would probably apologize for ‘invading my space’ or some crazy shit. It doesn’t happen, though; so I strip down to my boxer briefs and get ready to crash in the guest room myself.

  I am heading out of the room when she moves and begins mumbling in her sleep. I know I should keep going, but I can’t. There is an undeniable pull inside me towards her. Following my gut, I make my way over and climb in bed beside her. As if it was second nature, she moves over to me in the bed and snuggles into me. I don’t have any choice except to wrap my arm around her or be miserable for the few hours of sleep I would like to try to get.

  It is a strange feeling to have a woman in my bed to merely sleep. I have not had anyone share my bed without having sex since Erin. My young mind never grasped that there could come a time that I wouldn’t be able to have my arm around my wife in the moments lost to peaceful slumber. Then life happened, and she was ripped cruelly from me.
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br />   After feeling that sort of pain, I never wanted another woman completely entrenched in my heart. Now, here I lie with another woman sleeping in my arms, and I feel the same sort of peace wash over me that I have not felt in far too long. Furthermore, it doesn’t feel like a betrayal to Erin, not that I want to analyze that realization right now.

  Morgan’s breaths tickle my bare chest as she continues her trip through oblivion. My mind wanders, and I whisper quietly into the night to my dead wife.

  “Erin, what am I doing? Things are changing. I have given things to Morgan Powell that I didn’t think I had in me to ever give again.”

  There is no response, just like every other time I have allowed my mind to reach out for her.

  Morgan’s hand comes across my waist much like Erin used to do, and her gentle touch soothes something in me. Her legs tangle in mine as if she is wrapping me in the security of her cocoon. Like a caterpillar being safely surrounded during a change, I am being given a soft, safe, and secure place to let my heart change, open, and fall.

  Before I can think further on where any of this is happening, I fall asleep.

  “Oh, my goodness, no way.”

  I wake up to a frantic Morgan pushing up off me. Her hair is a tousled, sexy mess around her face, and her eyes are not quite focused yet. Some women are only pretty when they put time into make-up and doing their hair. Now I get the chance to see that this woman is gorgeous fresh faced in the morning.

  “I am so sorry. I haven’t slept well since Madyson disappeared, only a few hours here and there when I pass out from exhaustion. Oh, my… I’m just so sorry.”

  “I’m not,” I state honestly while my dick starts to stir. I am not sure if I should start doing algebra to stop it or say fuck it and let it happen.

  She looks at me intently, as if she is trying to gage the depth of my sincerity. I watch her back, wondering if I should kiss her, whether she will pull that stick out of her uptight ass and let me. Before we can discuss or do anything, my bedroom door flies open.

  “What the hell? I like her dad. I really like her. Why?” Brooke screams in her teenage hysteria. When she is like this, I feel like it is defcon level five or some shit. I am never going to understand hormonal, teenage girls. This sort of shit makes me want to grab my helmet along with my guns and head to a fucking bunker to hide.

  Morgan’s face pales as my eyes grow wild at my daughter’s assumption.

  “I can talk to Morgan. Finally, since Gram, I have someone to talk to. Now you’ve fucked her and fucked it all up,” Brooke yells, her eyes watering with unshed tears before turning to stomp downstairs.

  “I’m so sorry, Ice. This is all my fault. God, I don’t even know your first name, and your daughter thinks we had sex.” Morgan moves to climb out of bed.

  “It’s okay. I’ll handle it. And my name is Brett.” I can’t help smiling at her mortification. The way she says sex is like a teen who just completed health class. It is cute, exactly like everything else about Morgan.

  “No. Please, let me. I don’t want her to think this is more than it is.”

  “You want to face the battle of a teenage girl hell bent on ripping someone’s balls off? Feel free. If you need to wave the white flag, I’ll be down after I shower to take over,” I answer grumpily, not liking her comment about this not being more than what it is. I am used to barflies falling all over themselves to have a piece of me. Then the first woman who manages to chip though some of this barrier I have thrown up since Erin died is practically running after my daughter to assure her we would never have sex. That is enough to do a man’s ego in.

  Before she leaves, she smiles at me—really, truly smiles. It is something I haven’t seen from her before, and it is abso-fucking-lutely exquisite. She is a masterpiece of natural beauty, both inside and out.

  Damn, I may be in over my head with more than just my daughter.

  Morgan

  Making my way nervously down to the kitchen, I find Brooke pouring milk into a bowl of cereal. There is an awkward silence between us while she obviously fights herself to not look at me.

  Approaching cautiously, I say, “I promise you I didn’t have sex with your dad.”

  Her head comes up, and her eyes meet my gaze. “I woke up and expected to find you downstairs. Finding you in his bed… I don’t know. You’re both adults, so it’s not like my business, or whatever,” she stammers in frustration.

  “Anything with your dad is your business. You need to learn a better way to communicate with him, though. I enjoy talking to you, and I wouldn’t do anything with your dad behind your back. Honestly, your dad and I are complete opposites, sweetie. I don’t even make his radar.” I have never had to explain myself like this before. I hope I am doing it considerately enough because I would never want to come between Brooke and her father.

  “I’ve heard him and the guys talk about his revolving door of barflies. And I even walked in on him like twice with one of them. I don’t want that for you, Morgan,” she whispers.

  The mention of Ice’s reputation hurts. Waking up in the man’s arms was very surreal yet very nice, too. For that minute, when I was somewhere in between asleep and awake, I felt safe and protected. Not quite loved, though maybe something close. I know it was only my overactive imagination, but damn, it felt nice to have that for a little while. Maybe it is for the best that I received this little reality check before my mind has a chance to get ahead of itself.

  “I’m so far from being like that with your dad. Heck, I don’t even know that we’re friends, truth be told. He’s just helping me find Mady. Last night, I was tired, and I guess I ended up in his bed, though I have no idea how. I haven’t been sleeping well, I crashed. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but”—I facetiously gasp and move my hand dramatically to my chest—“I think he was trying to be nice to me. Can you believe that?” Leaning in to conspiratorially whisper, I ask, “Should we call the news and tell them the world is ending?”

  We both fall into a fit of giggles, and for a moment, I don’t feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. For just a moment, I get lost in being an over-the-top, silly woman.

  Brooke’s giggles die slowly. Then she looks me over and bites her bottom lip, as if she is unsure she should say what she is thinking. “He is a good guy. He doesn’t allow himself to get into a serious relationship with anyone, though. He’s only let me know the name of one woman, in the thirteen years since my mom died.”

  I let her words sink in for a moment. “Brooke, you know you mean everything to him, right?”

  “Sure,” she replies with a sarcastic smirk.

  “Here me out. The man has made sure to have a system in place so that, at all times, he knows you are safe and taken care of. You are his first and last priority. I get that you think he’s a playboy or whatnot, and that may be the case, but he obviously tries to shelter you from that if you don’t know their names. Men have needs; he can’t hide that. He sets the bar high for the women he allows to be around you; obviously, since you have only officially met one of them.”

  “Truth,” Ice’s voice calls from behind me. “Brooke, nothing happened with Morgan. Don’t question it further, and don’t ever throw your attitude around like that again, or I’ll ground your ass until graduation.”

  “Dad,” she whines.

  “Brooke, show some respect. You may not agree with what your dad says or does, but he takes care of you, and he loves you. The two of you have to find a balance, and no more yelling on either side,” I say with a sharp stare back over to Ice.

  My parents are far from being a good example, but they never yell. I have been trained in the way to firmly communicate an order without raising my voice.

  “Never ceases to amaze me. She can handle what my teen throws out,” Ice mumbles as he brushes past me. He kisses Brooke on the top of her head before going to the coffee pot.

  Not being certain that he was actually talking to me, I blankly stare at the man in f
ront of me. His low slung sweat pants only accentuate the clearly defined muscles of his body. The pants barely stay above his butt, which is both firm looking and also nice and round. For the first time in my life, I have the overwhelming urge to grab a man’s ass, and it disturbs me; as a result, I focus on another body part in the hopes that the sensation will go away.

  Moving my gaze over his flexing triceps, my eyes widen a bit as I realize the man’s arms are huge. I swear his biceps are bigger than my thighs. The intricate work of his tattoos draws me in. I can’t exactly make out what is on his upper arm without moving in closer, but it looks as if it is some sort of skull wearing a green beret.

  With his back to me, I am able to take in the large tattoo that covers it. A large eagle with his wings out on display holds a sword in his grasp. Above the eagle’s head in bold letters is the word ‘Regulators’. As he moves around, filling the coffee pot with water and ground coffee, the muscles in his back ripple. In all my life, I have never analyzed a man’s body enough to know they could be built in such a way, and now I realize I have been missing out. Backs built like Ice’s are sort of beautiful and might just be my new favorite body part.

  “Morgan’s gonna stay here until we get Madyson back,” Ice states matter-of-factly while pushing the button on the pot to brew. I seriously need more than coffee to take in what he just said.

  “Excuse me?” I question, flabbergasted while Brooke simply smiles. “I thought I was only staying for the night!”

  “You haven’t been sleeping well. Stay here so you can feel safe and not be lost in your thoughts. Brooke will talk your head off and be a good distraction.” He gets his coffee cup out, sets in on the counter, and then continues to move around the kitchen as if ordering me and my life around is an everyday feat for him.

  “You make it sound so simple. I have a home of my own, ya know.”

  “Save the Ms. Independent bullshit for when your sister comes home. For now, you need to eat. As much as I like fitness, I like a woman with curves, and sweetheart, your curves are disappearin’. We can’t have that. It would be fuckin’ criminal to let that ass of yours waste away. You need to sleep. You also need to let me do my job, and part of doing my job means looking out for you, too. I can do that better if you’re in my house. Your car is in the garage with a remote opener in the console. Take Brooke, get some shit, and settle in.”