Rescuing Casey

by Susan Stoker

  “Yeah, but I’m thinking it won’t take that long this time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because your brother is there now, and he’s probably crawled up their asses so far, they’re gonna want to see the backside of his ass sooner rather than later.”

  Casey smiled. Aspen could be a pain if he wanted something.

  “Anyway, so we’ll spend a couple of days in the hotel, you’ll be interviewed by the authorities, then we’ll have to wait for clearance to leave the country. Hopefully they’ve got your passport, which will make things go quicker too.”

  “Will you guys… Never mind.”

  “Will we what?”

  Casey bit her lip, then finally blurted, “Will you wait with me? Or do you have to get back to go on another mission?”

  Truck leaned forward and put a hand on her knee. “We’re not leaving until you do,” he reassured her.

  Casey let out the breath she’d been holding. Then she patted his hand and said flippantly, “Well, then, spending a few days in a hotel doesn’t sound so bad. If they have hot water and a tub, I’ll be golden.”

  Truck leaned back and shook his head. “Strong and stubborn,” he murmured.

  Casey blushed, knowing he’d seen right through her bravado.

  “I’m proud of you,” Truck said. “You went through something horrific and could’ve just laid down and died in that hole. But you didn’t. You fought to live. Not only that, you tromped through this jungle as if you hadn’t just been kidnapped. You helped me and Beatle figure out where to make camp when we were out of our element and didn’t understand the threat from the insects all around us. You ever need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me, okay?”

  Casey nodded. “I think I might like to meet this Mary of yours.”

  Truck smiled again, one side of his mouth quirking up and the side with the scar stubbornly remaining still. “I think she’d like that too.”

  They fell silent then, each lost in their own thoughts. Casey knew her ordeal wasn’t over, but for some reason, a little of the tension she’d been feeling rolled off her shoulders. Soon she’d be in the city, surrounded by Beatle, her brother, and the other Deltas. No one could steal her away with them around.

  She refused to think about when she went home to Florida and the men returned to Texas. She’d cross that bridge when she got to it. One day at a time. That’s all she had to do.

  * * *

  Five hours later, Casey could hardly believe she and Truck had been talking in the middle of the jungle earlier in the day, and now she was walking into a Sheraton hotel room just west of San José.

  Beatle had reappeared and they’d immediately made their way toward Guacalito. Once they’d arrived, she’d been reintroduced to Hollywood, Coach, and Fletch, and they’d gotten into a helicopter. Casey hadn’t asked any questions, but had held on to Beatle’s hand tightly. He’d squeezed her hand several times, trying to reassure her. They’d landed at a military base of some sort near San José where the team leader named Ghost had been waiting for them.

  They’d been allowed to leave without any issues, and had pulled up in front of the fancy American hotel chain. Even seeing the logo had made Casey feel better, safer.

  Her brother had obviously been dealing with the logistics of the hotel because he was waiting when they entered the lobby. He’d hugged her tightly, handed her a bag with some clothes he’d gotten for her, gave Beatle a key, and then he’d led them to the elevators. All the other men had crammed into the small space and they’d traveled to the top floor. It made her feel better to see the men had entered rooms all around the one Beatle led her to. She was surrounded by them, which further helped her feelings of safety.

  Casey stepped into the room and turned around to thank Beatle, but jerked in surprise when he followed her inside and shut the door behind them. He went past her and dropped his pack on the carpet.

  He then went to the closet and opened it, looked under each of the two double beds and behind the curtains. Then he went past her and into the bathroom. After making sure they were the only two people in the room—at least that’s what she assumed he was doing—he strode over to her and peeled the bag out of her grasp. He placed it inside the bathroom and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Bathroom is all yours. I’ll be out here. Take your time.”

  “But I heard Ghost tell that military guy he could come here and interview me.”

  “He did,” Beatle said. “But not until you’re ready. You need to get clean. Then you need to be checked out by a doctor. Then you need to eat. By then, it’ll be too late to talk to anyone tonight, and you need a good night’s rest on a real mattress without having to worry about bugs.”

  Casey couldn’t deal with the tender way Beatle was speaking to her, as if she were the most important thing in his life. It made her feel both good and worried at the same time that he’d feel differently once they were back home. “The chance there are bedbugs are higher here than in the States. Warmer climate, clients not as wealthy, hygiene not as valued…”

  Beatle shuddered. “Let’s not think about that. As much as I love that entomological brain of yours, Dr. Shea, at the moment, I’ve had all the bugs I can take.”

  She gave him a small grin.

  “Right. Anyway, the shower’s all yours. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll be safe to take as long as you want in there.”

  The thought of him having her back while she was naked and vulnerable made the tears she’d been holding at bay, since they’d walked out of the jungle into the town of Guacalito, threaten to spill down her cheeks. Casey held them back by pure stubbornness. Beatle had seen her cry way too much for her liking. She wanted to be strong…for him.

  “Thanks,” she said softly.

  It was obvious he hadn’t missed her attempt at controlling her emotions, but he didn’t comment on it, which she appreciated. “There’s soap, a razor, shampoo, and conditioner on the counter. I’ll comb your hair for you when you come out, so don’t worry about that. There’s also a toothbrush and toothpaste next to the sink.” He leaned forward until all she could see was him. “Take. Your. Time. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about anyone coming into the room, because they absolutely will not. Don’t worry about using all the hot water. You’re safe here with me. Got it?”

  The pesky tears were back, clogging her throat, making it impossible for her to say even one word. So she simply nodded.

  Then, keeping eye contact with her, Beatle leaned forward, closing the distance between them. He brushed his lips across hers in a touch so feather light and sweet, it almost broke her. She hadn’t brushed her teeth in weeks, she could smell the jungle funk wafting up from her clothes, and she knew she had a carpet of hair under her armpits and on her legs, but she also knew none of it mattered to Beatle.

  He drew back, staring at her for a beat, as if making sure she was strong enough to shower without him, before nodding and turning her toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right here,” he repeated.

  Casey walked into the luxurious bathroom and shut the door. Her finger hovered over the small lock in the doorknob for a second, before she turned toward the shower, deliberately not looking in the mirror. She felt awful enough as it was, the last thing she wanted to do was see how terrible she looked.

  She grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste deciding she’d try to scrape the fuzz off her teeth while standing under the running water. She didn’t want to take a second longer than necessary to get clean.

  Stripping off her clothes in disgust, she left them in a heap on the white tiled floor. She was about to step into the shower when her nerves got the best of her. She took a step to the door and turned the knob, cracking it open an inch.

  Satisfied that Beatle would be able to hear her if something happened, she cranked on the water. Barely waiting for it to warm, she stepped under the spray. She stood under the water with her head back, eyes closed, for what seemed like forever. The wa
rm water felt heavenly against her skin, and she could imagine the dirt and filth being washed away down the drain as she stood there.

  * * *

  Beatle paced the hotel room in agitation. It had taken everything he had to leave Casey with Truck in the jungle while he went on ahead to make sure Guacalito was secure. The last thing they needed was another kidnapping attempt at the site of the first one.

  Hollywood had been the first of his team to meet him, and had assured that they hadn’t encountered any more resistance since the attack in the jungle.

  But Beatle hadn’t let his guard down. Someone wanted Casey badly enough to try to prevent her from making it out of the jungle alive. He was going to make sure they didn’t succeed.

  The trip to San José had been uneventful. Ghost and Blade had arranged for a military helicopter to pick them up, and they’d arrived at the capital within hours.

  Officials had wanted to interview Casey right away, but Blade had put his foot down. It didn’t matter; even if her brother hadn’t intervened, Beatle would’ve. Casey needed to get her equilibrium back. Before she talked about her ordeal, she needed to be cleaned, doctored, and fed. Once she felt more like herself, it would be easier to talk about what had happened to her, he hoped.

  Beatle was as interested to hear her entire story as everyone else, but his first priority was Casey. So here he was, pacing the carpet, wanting to be in the shower with her so bad he ached. Not so much for sexual reasons—though the desire was there—but to take care of her.

  He’d heard her open the door and had looked over, expecting to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, ready to ask him something, but all he’d seen was the door open a crack. He wanted to think she felt safer with him in the room and the door cracked, so he could get to her faster if she needed him, but he shook his head. No, she’d probably done it to try to reduce the steam in the room. That’s all.

  He’d about convinced himself of that when he’d heard her first sobs. It took everything in him not to go to her. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she was safe, that everything would be all right, but he didn’t. He stood stock still in the middle of the hotel room, his hands fisted, his nails biting into his palms as he listened to the woman who had somehow wormed her way into his heart, sob as if her life was over.

  Truck had pulled him aside in Guacalito while they were waiting for the chopper and had given him some advice. Told him that Casey was like Mary, independent and stubborn. And she’d hate to be treated as if she was a weak kidnapping victim. He’d done a good job of treating her like a member of the team, because she was, but Truck warned him that he needed to continue to do that. Not to baby her. Support her, yes, but not treat her as if she was broken in any way.

  Beatle had taken his friend’s words to heart. He didn’t know what was going on with him and Mary, but instinct told him that Truck was right. Casey would hate to be fussed over.

  The way she’d fought crying in front of him before she’d entered the bathroom had solidified that.

  But it killed him to allow her to cry by herself. Killed.

  He was about to say fuck it and join her in the shower when he heard the water turn off. Not taking his eyes from the bathroom door, Beatle waited for Casey to appear. He needed to see for himself that she was okay.

  It took a while, so long that once again he was tempted to go to her, but he stood steadfast.

  He saw the door moving before he heard it. Then she was there.

  God. Damn.

  Beatle had been attracted to her even when she’d been covered in dirt and smelling like body odor in the jungle. He knew what she looked like, had seen the picture of her Blade had shared. But nothing had prepared him to see her fresh and clean from the shower.

  A waft of air and steam from the bathroom brought her scent to where he was standing. His nostrils flared, as if that would help him inhale more of her smell.

  She smelled clean. Nothing fancy. No overly scented soaps. No perfume. Just Casey.

  Her hair shone under the lights. Even wet, it was several shades lighter than it had been in the jungle. She was wearing a T-shirt that looked a size or two too large for her slight frame. She’d most likely lost weight because of her ordeal, and her brother had estimated her size wrong. She had on a pair of gray cotton shorts that came down to her knees. He couldn’t see her figure, but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever lain eyes on. She was upright, safe, healthy. It was a miracle.

  Standing in the doorway, she bit her lip and looked up at him. “Sorry I took so long,” she said quietly.

  Her words broke the trance he was in. Beatle slowly walked toward her, not breaking eye contact as he did. He stopped two feet in front of her. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly.

  A blush swept up her neck and gave her cheeks a healthy glow. She tucked a wet piece of hair behind her ear. “I think you’ve just been in the jungle too long.”

  Beatle reached out a hand, but stopped when it was a couple inches from her face. His hand was filthy. The dirt under his nails startling him. He dropped his hand.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can touch me.”

  Beatle shook his head. “Not when I’m so dirty.”

  “Maybe after you shower?” she asked, a hopeful look in her eye.

  “Absolutely. Go and sit,” he ordered gruffly to try to hide how much he wanted her. “I’ll be fast. Blade said he’d be coming over with the doctor. But don’t answer the door until I’m out. Okay? Even if it’s your brother.”

  “But…I trust Aspen. Don’t you?”

  Beatle reprimanded himself for the doubt his words had put in her eyes.

  “With my life,” he said immediately. “But I don’t trust anyone else. Not even the doctor Ghost found to come check you out. I’d rather there be at least two of us present while he’s looking you over.”

  “Do you think he’d try something?”

  Beatle immediately shook his head. “It’s not likely, but I’m not about to risk your well-being if I’m wrong. Five minutes, Case,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll be out before you know it.”

  She nodded. “I used most of the shampoo, but there’s still lots of soap.”

  Beatle smiled. “That’s so…girly of you,” he teased. “To assume I’ll be okay using plain ol’ soap in my hair and not fancy shampoo.”

  Instead of blushing and apologizing, Casey rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  The urge to take her in his arms was almost overwhelming, and Beatle knew he needed to put some distance between them. Now wasn’t the time or the place, and he was disgusting. He needed to clean up.

  He took a step toward her. “Unless you want to get my stink on you, you’d better get out of the way.” He mock frowned at her.

  She giggled, the sound burrowing its way into his heart, and scooted out of the doorway. “You do your thing. I’ll just be…over here.”

  Beatle watched as she headed for one of the beds. He waited until she was seated at the edge of the mattress. He couldn’t help but stare at her.

  “Go,” she ordered. “Your stench is permeating the entire room.” She waved a hand in front of her face like a fan.

  Beatle winked at her and entered the steamy bathroom. He didn’t bother shutting the door, leaving it standing wide open. He wanted to be able to get to Casey if she needed him.

  Placing the last clean T-shirt he had in his pack and a clean pair of boxers on the counter, Beatle stripped and dropped his dirty clothes on top of her discarded ones. He’d arrange for them to be washed by the hotel later.

  Without hesitation, Beatle stepped into the shower, his only thought to get clean and back to Casey.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Casey took a deep breath. The doctor had come and gone. He’d pronounced her still a bit dehydrated and malnourished as well as suffering from various cuts and bruises, thanks to her time in captivity and her trek through the jungle, but otherwise surprisingly healthy.
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  Whatever Truck and Beatle had put on her feet had done wonders. He’d prescribed some more antibiotics and an antifungal cream, but said they were well on their way to being healed.

  All in all, it was amazing how well she was doing. Truck had said “strong and stubborn” under his breath when the doctor had expressed surprise at her condition, and Beatle had merely squeezed her hand to the point of almost pain.

  Her brother had hugged her so hard, she thought he was going to break a rib, but he’d let go right before he’d really hurt her. “I love you, sis. You scared me. Don’t do it again.”

  Casey had snorted. As if she’d gotten kidnapped on purpose.

  Ghost had escorted the doctor out of the room and then came back and stared at her with his hands on his hips.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You’ve got a choice,” he informed her.

  “No,” Beatle broke in.

  Ghost ignored him and kept his eyes on Casey. “As you’re probably aware, the Costa Rican authorities are anxious to hear what you have to say about your abduction. They aren’t happy Americans were kidnapped on their turf, especially when they’ve done all they can to curb the drug trade and increase tourism.”

  “Ghost, seriously, I don’t think—”

  “This isn’t your choice,” Ghost interrupted, turning to Beatle.

  The two men glared at each other for a heartbeat until Casey said, “Beatle, it’s okay. Go on, Ghost, what’s my choice?”

  “It looks like we’ll be here for at least two nights. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow, first thing.” Ghost looked at his watch. “It’s already seven at night, and you’ve had a long day. The authorities would like to talk to you tonight, but I can put them off until tomorrow if you want.”

  “Tomorrow,” Beatle said, moving to Casey’s side. “She needs to eat something. Then sleep.”

  Casey put her hand on Beatle’s arm. “Tonight,” she told Ghost, while looking up at Beatle.

  His eyes immediately swung down to hers, the light brown almost obliterated by his huge pupils. “Case, it’s—”