His Heart (HIS Series Book 7)

by Sheila Kell

  Please, God, don’t let it be tied to Ripley. He wanted to eradicate the man but didn’t want her suffering in the meantime.

  She gasped and put her hands on her mouth. “Neil Holbrook.”

  Neil narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t speak.

  “Do you want to call 911 or take care of him ourselves?” Ken asked Matt, probably in an effort to put fear into Neil at what “take care of him ourselves” actually meant.

  What he wanted to do was rip the asshole to shreds, but he wouldn’t be any good to Caitlyn if he were in jail. He needed to know more before they progressed. “Who is Neil Holbrook?”

  Seeming to gather her courage, she stood confident, not fearful like she’d been when she’d first seen the man. She almost appeared… angry. He’d prefer that emotion to fear, but now he really had to know what this asshole had done.

  “He applied to the program, but I denied his application.”

  “You had no right, bitch,” spewed from Neil’s mouth.

  Matt’s automatic reflex was to deck the man, and it felt good watching Neil’s head snap back. He wouldn’t even give the man the satisfaction of watching him shake off the pain in his knuckles. Caitlyn opened her mouth to speak, her face red, but Matt was faster. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  “Fuck you,” Neil said to Matt.

  Unperturbed by the statement, Matt turned to Ken and nodded. The team leader, toting his firearms and Neil’s, walked away and put the phone to his ear to speak with an operator at 911. Since this obviously had nothing to do with Ripley, they’d turn it over to local law enforcement. But they would keep an ear to the ground on what happened with Holbrook. The man proved himself resourceful to sneak through their net. The net he’d decided earlier wasn’t large enough. Case in point. But the only extra men available were protecting Adam in case Ripley came back for more. He couldn’t pull them from her father, not after what Ripley had done to Adam already.

  Thank God Neftali had spotted him through his scope. All decked out in camo in the late evening, he’d have been hard to find. Pity Neftali hadn’t had a clean shot, then the events wouldn’t have unfolded as they had. And while insignificant to everything happening around them, he hadn’t wanted her to discover his injury. Oh, she’d probably want to talk about it, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. He hoped she didn’t think him weak because of it. He’d worked hard in physical therapy when he’d acquired his prosthetic. It was a part of him now, and that would be hard to explain since many people throw out the term disabled right off the bat. Somehow, he doubted she would, but he didn’t have practice discussing his injury.

  Ken turned back to them. “They’re on their way.” He raised his eyebrows at Matt as if just noticing something. “You might want to put on a shirt or something.”

  He’d forgotten that he’d rushed from the bathroom without a shirt. With the way Caitlyn was looking him up and down, she seemed to just realize it also. Her gaze also stopped on his tattoo.

  Matt guided Neil to the couch and shoved him down. “Ken, I’m going to finish getting dressed. You’ve got him.” He grabbed Caitlyn’s arm. “You’re coming with me.”

  She huffed. “No, I’m not.” Jerking her arm, she tried to wrench it free from his grasp.

  “Yes, you are. I’m not leaving you out here with our unwelcome guest.”

  “I am not going to the bathroom with you while you dress.”

  “Good grief. It’s just a shirt. Quit protesting and come on.” Why the hell was she fighting him? It wasn’t like he was dragging her to her doom.

  When Neil expelled some expletives her way, she changed her mind and followed him. Entering the small bathroom, she handed him his shirt from off the commode and then scooted as far away from him as possible.

  Her fragrance drifted to him, and he smiled to know she still wore Happy by Clinique. One day, in college, they’d laughingly gone down the perfume aisle at a department store where she’d allowed the women who worked there to test different fragrances on her. When she’d come to this one, she’d fallen in love with it. And when he’d got a whiff, so had he. He’d purchased a large bottle of it on the spot. Over the years, he’d sometimes go to the Clinique counter and smell the fragrance to remember her. It was sad, but it’d make him smile at the good memories they had.

  After donning a shirt and fixing his comm system, he turned to her and wondered what was going through her head. She almost looked frightened again, and his gut lurched.

  Then she surprised him with a question out of the blue. “I want to hear about that tattoo on your belly. Is that the one you and Brad got?”

  Automatically, he looked down, but his stomach was covered with his navy blue T-shirt. He knew what she meant; he just hadn’t expected that to be her question. Maybe she’d missed seeing his shower prosthetic leg in the corner. He hadn’t had an opportunity to return it to the guest room.

  “There’s not much to say.”

  She cocked her head to the left. “I know you didn’t have it when I knew you. You were with Brad. There’s always a story. He said it was before you went into the navy.”

  He didn’t want to correct her that she still knew him, so he just pulled his shirt up to show her the tattoo again.

  Matt chuckled at the memory of when he’d decided to get the tattoo. “What good tattoo story doesn’t start with ‘booze was involved?’ As Brad said, the night before I shipped out to boot camp, Brad and I went on a bender with some friends. I knew it wasn’t wise considering I had to be ready to process in all day, but when have my twin and I ever done what is wise?” He narrowed his eyes and his lip quirked. “Don’t answer that. Anyhow, I’m not sure how we ended up at the tattoo parlor, but come morning, I woke with a pounding head, my stomach a nauseous ball, and this damn tattoo.” He gestured to his stomach.

  She’d moved closer to him and reached out to trace the outline of the flaming sun around his belly button. He wasn’t pulling down his pants so she could trace what fell below the belt. He’d never survive the touch.

  His dick twitched at the tender fingertip outlining his tattoo, and he willed it to halt so it didn’t scare her.

  “And that’s the same one Brad got?”

  He forced his focus on her words and not what her hand could do to pleasure him. “Yes. Even in our inebriated state, we remained twins.”

  Then, as if realizing what she’d been doing, she jumped back and removed her finger from his skin. “I’m not surprised Brad lured you into doing something you wouldn’t have otherwise done by yourself. He was always a bit wilder than you.”

  His back stiffened. His twin might be a major pain in the ass, but he never pushed Matt out of his comfort zone. Even drunk Brad knew the boundaries. “It was mutual,” he said before turning to leave the bathroom so she didn’t see she’d been right and Brad had led the charge. In reality, they’d allowed one of the chicks with Brad to choose the tattoo. The worst thing was it hadn’t been the stupidest thing they’d ever done together. Although, Caitlyn knew most of their adventures. “I heard sirens, so the cavalry should be here in a minute or two. I want you to stick with me and always keep me in between you and Neil. Got that?”

  She nodded but didn’t speak. Had he offended her with his comment about Brad? Sure it’d been Brad’s idea, but he’d wanted something to remember his twin by, and it seemed appropriate at the time.

  Brad took that moment to knock on the bathroom door. “Are you two okay in there?”

  Okay, how? Okay with the events of the evening that left a hole in his pants? No. Okay with Caitlyn needing protection? No. Okay with each other in a confined space? Not really. They were only okay with the fact that the men apprehended the shooter so he couldn’t harm Caitlyn.

  After a nod to Caitlyn, they exited the bathroom to an angry Brad.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you wake me?”

  With Matt close to Caitlyn during the day, Brad remained close to the house during the evening to allow Matt to
sleep peacefully. About as peacefully as he could.

  “We were just about to do that,” Matt told him.

  “Were either of you hurt?”

  “No, we’re fine,” Caitlyn stated, forgetting or ignoring the shot near his calf.

  Something warned him she hadn’t forgotten. He prepared himself for the explanation he’d have to give her.

  Brad looked back and forth between them and drew in his brow. “The sheriff is here.”

  Good. It was time to get rid of this unexpected threat to his woman. Yeah, he said she was his. Let her fight it all she wanted. Even though they’d come together under unfortunate circumstances, he knew in his heart that she was his woman. Time hadn’t changed how he felt. She’d learn that soon enough.

  WITH THE SHERIFF gone with Holbrook in custody, and Brad positioned outside to help cover the blind spot that Holbrook had snuck through, Matt sat on the couch sipping iced tea, a little calmer than he’d been earlier. Caitlyn sat as far away from him as possible. It made him want to laugh after thinking about the kiss they’d shared.

  “Thank you for saving me from being shot by Neil,” she said quietly.

  A warm calm settled in him at her words. “How’s your head and your shoulder?” While he’d tried to be gentle, there’d been no time to completely protect her head from hitting the floor. Injuring her at all had his heart dropping to his gut like a lead ball. But the bullet hadn’t hit her, and that kept him from being depressed over her small injury.

  She touched the back of her head and winced. “I’ll be okay.”

  They sat in a stilted silence that hadn’t been there before. He didn’t like it one bit. “What’s going on in your head?”

  Shrugging, she said, “Nothing.”

  Sure, and he’d love to buy swampland in Louisiana. Yet, he couldn’t tell if she was bothered by Holbrook… him being there… or his lack of his lower leg. Something told him the latter was what was on her mind, even though it should be the last thing.

  Would she treat him differently now? Some people did—treated him like an invalid or someone incapable of doing regular things—and he didn’t want that from her. He didn’t want anything that might allow her to pull back on their relationship.

  He decided to grab the reins and get it over with. This would be the only person outside of his immediate family and the HIS team who he’d share the story with. Not so much because most of it was classified, but for how he knew they’d see him… treat him. He had been in charge after all. “I lost my leg below the knee when I was in Pakistan.”

  Caitlyn appeared relieved he’d brought up the topic, but her relief turned to confusion. “I didn’t know we had men in Pakistan.”

  Stoically, Matt told her, “We have small contingents of men almost everywhere. It’s just not advertised.” Their mission had been classified. They were to help a man the US wanted to speak with leave the country safely, and they couldn’t just fly a helo where the man lived and grab him. The guy was promised to be a great intelligence find. Matt couldn’t tell her that though. Not only was it part of why the mission was classified, but so was the identity of the man. She’d never let it go if he became vague on the reason, so he tried his best to skim over it without her seeing through him.

  “I can’t tell you what we were doing. In fact, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to tell you Pakistan.”

  Her eyes were serious and imploring. “I can keep the secret.”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her; he just believed in OPSEC—Operations Security. That meant he couldn’t give her much at all, but he had to give her something. Like you fucking blew it and gave her Pakistan, asshole? Thinking before he said each word, he gave her an overview of sorts. “Well, we—my team and I—were trying to leave the country, and our vehicle broke down. It’s not like there was a repair shop at hand, so we started walking and were feeling good about our egress when someone traveling with the team stepped on a land mine.”

  The images of what had happened haunted him day and night. The blood and screams of his injured men. If only the idiot they’d been helping would’ve paid attention. From the start, he’d been uncooperative, and that was telling given that they were there to save him. Instead, he’d pushed ahead of them. Automatically, the team closed in to capture him for his own protection, because it was probably known he’d given in to the Americans. Instead of the team succeeding at corralling him back, their world irrevocably changed.

  He swallowed hard against the memory of not only his loss but also the loss the team sustained. “Two of my teammates lost their lives.” So did the idiot who’d stepped on the mine, but she didn’t need to know that. “Myself and another team member, who’d been close to the blast, lost limbs.” The four of them who had corralled him. Matt had never felt so much pain before. The long wait for evac had been agonizing. Thank the fuck they’d had morphine in a medic pack, because it wasn’t an easy feat for the bird to get there and evacuate them from that hellhole when they’d been trying to be stealthy. He hadn’t wanted to be dosed at first. He’d wanted to retain his senses to take care of his team, but it had hurt so fucking bad, and looking down and not seeing a foot had put his emotions in a blender. His second in command told him that he had the team and that Matt needed to take the damn shot. After the morphine had kicked in, he’d been glad for the forcefulness of his second in command.

  During his retelling of that fateful mission, Caitlyn had slid down the couch toward him and then put her slender hand on his thigh in a supportive gesture. The heat seared through his skin and settled him somewhat.

  “Oh, Matt.”

  At the tone of her voice, he removed her hand and surged up from the couch. “I don’t want your pity, Caitlyn.” Anger laced his veins. Anger at believing she’d be different. Maybe she once had been, but apparently not today.

  Breathing heavily, he stood with his back to her as if that would erase how she’d reacted. How he’d reacted.

  He heard her quietly standing a moment before her hand touched his shoulder. He wanted to be mean and shrug her touch off, but in truth, he liked her touch… craved it, because it grounded him. It always had. “You misunderstood. That wasn’t pity, Matt. I was just heartbroken to hear what happened to you and your team.”

  “They were good men,” he croaked through heavy emotion. He wondered if the team had blamed him for the loss. He’d been leading the team—like always. But he hadn’t controlled the man they’d been sent to retrieve. Something about the way the man acted had bugged Matt, but he’d never find out what it was.

  With loving care, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly.

  Her touch was a balm to his tormented soul. For a few moments, he did nothing, not wanting to scare her off. Then he covered her arms around his waist with his own and relaxed. Her body next to his helped him combat the horrendous scenes that played in his mind.

  Brad entering the room startled them both, and they jumped apart like teenage sweethearts who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Brad shook his head at them. “Hey, brat, what do you want to do about the window? It’s not in danger of shattering tonight, so we can leave it until you can call someone to fix it tomorrow, or if you have some wood, we can cover it. I’d say we could run to town to get some, but I think everything’s probably closed by now.”

  Caitlyn stared at the small hole in her window for a good minute before she responded to Brad. “I don’t have wood to cover it, so we’ll have to leave it uncovered. Are you sure it won’t shatter?”

  Matt shook his head. “No, it won’t break tonight. You’re in trouble when it starts spider webbing out.” He looked directly at her. “But you need to have it replaced tomorrow.”

  “I wonder how much bullet proof glass costs?” she murmured.

  “It’s pricey and doubtful you’d get it tomorrow,” Brad told her, playing along with a smile. He turned to Matt. “Neftali is beating himself up for not spotting Holbrook until it was to
o late.”

  Normally, he’d say good, let him stew in it. But not in this instance. They gave him too much area to cover. “Make sure to tell him it wasn’t his fault. We gave him a lot of indiscernible ground to cover.”

  With a shrug, Brad said, “Won’t matter.”

  “I’ll talk with him tonight. Is everything else okay?”

  “Yeah, the men are changing out now.”

  Matt looked at his watch. “Why so late?”

  “They overlapped and walked the woods closest to the house to see if anyone else might be hiding out.”

  “It’s dark outside,” Caitlyn said incredulously.

  Both men chuckled. Matt gave her a wink. “They still need to do their job in the dark.”

  “You’re right,” she murmured as if she didn’t really want to tell him that he was right and she was wrong.

  Had this been an argument between the two of them and she’d said that, he’d have reacted differently. Yes, he’d be smug about it. But this wasn’t, and her defeated voice made an impression in his heart that he couldn’t hide.

  In one swift movement, he was in front of her, so close he could smell her perfume. He opened his arms, and she fell into them. When wetness hit his T-shirt, he nodded toward the door. Understanding, Brad quietly left them alone.

  Holding her tightly, he rubbed his hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

  Among sniffles and hiccups, she asked, “Why? Why me?”

  Was there a right way to answer that question? She was good and wholesome but had the unfortunate luck of two men after her who were bent on revenge. Thank the fuck they’d captured the one they hadn’t been aware existed. If they’d have left her alone, she’d been seriously injured or dead at the hands of Neil Holbrook. He hoped no more surprises lay in wait for them. “I don’t know. All I know is that evil exists and it can impact good people.”

  “If you hadn’t been here…,” she started then changed her flow. “Thank you for saving my life.” That brought on fresh tears, and he wondered how soaked his shirt would be. He also wondered if she noticed how tightly she clung to him.