by Amy Gamet
“Wait!” said Noah. “They’re trying to draw us out.”
“And it’s working. Get in the damn boat.”
“If they’re by the chopper, they’ll have a clear line of sight to the boat as we make our way back. We’re dead in the water, Booger. Literally.”
“What the fuck do you suggest? We just sit back and let them kill Logan?”
“The roof. Come on!” Noah turned and ran back into the hospital, his arms pumping as he raced to the stairwell and climbed to the top. This was where Eric Manning fell to his death, Lizzie’s condo visible in the distance. “Stay low.” He got to the knee wall and slipped his sniper’s rifle from his back, fitting it with a night vision scope and setting it on its tripod.
He peered through the scope, his entire world suddenly standing on end as the people on the rooftop came into focus. “Jesus Christ.” There was no denying what he was seeing, no way to make sense of the horror in front of him, and he felt physically sick with fear. “Two men with guns. Three hostages. Brady, Hannah, and Cowboy.”
“How the fuck did they get here? Where’s Doc?”
“I don’t see him.” Cowboy was off to the side, but Hannah and Brady were sandwiched between tangos. “Fucking Christ. How can I get a shot?”
“Careful, Ryker.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he screamed, forcing himself to focus and regulate his breathing. The slightest movement could throw everything off.
This was the scene Booger had been trying to avoid. That last mission when Cowboy took him off the gun because he was so fucked up about Lizzie’s death. There were kids involved.
Kids involved.
Brady was over there. Sweet little Brady, the boy he loved. Hannah would never forgive him if he hurt her son. Hell, he’d never forgive himself.
“You don’t have to do this,” said Booger. “We can go over there and deal with it face-to-face.”
“We’ll be dead. That’s what they’re hoping for. No. This is our chance.”
“Can you make this shot, Noah?”
“It’s not even a quarter-mile away. Basic.”
“Basic doesn’t have a little kid in harm’s way.”
Sweat dripped into Noah’s mouth and he licked it away. He could do this. He had to do this. They were counting on him to be his best. A steely determination settled between his shoulder blades. The tango closest to Brady had to go first, but he would have only moments to get the second one.
He lined up his first shot and fired. The tango fell, the adults scattering. He lined up the sight on the second tango, but he pulled Brady in front of him, using the boy like a shield.
“You should have picked Hannah, fuckface. She’s taller.”
Just as Noah fired a shot over Brady’s head, the tango moved and Noah feared he’d shot the boy, too. Every cell in his body held still while he watched the tango fall to the ground, Brady seemingly unharmed.
Noah dropped his head to his chest, breathing hard once more. “Thank God.”
“You got them?”
“Yeah.”
“Never doubted you for a minute,” said Booger.
They found Logan swimming in the fetid water, halfway to the hospital, and pulled him into the boat. He’d managed to get away and was coming to alert Noah and Booger, enormous leg cast and all.
He told them how Cowboy had parachuted in with Hannah shortly after they left, finding the boy safely asleep in the chopper.
Logan had needed to sit down, finding a comfortable spot on the other side of the large HVAC unit. That’s when their company arrived. The men didn’t see him and he managed to escape back into the stairwell.
“You did good, Doc,” said Noah.
Booger slapped Logan on the back. “Hell yeah.”
They reached the condo, Noah hopping out and leaving Booger to help Logan back up the stairs. “I’ve got to get—”
Booger waved him on. “Go. I’ve got this.”
Noah took the steps two at a time all the way to the stop, pushing out the exit door with a rush. Hannah and Brady were sitting in the chopper and he slowly made his way to them.
“Noah!” said Brady. Blood dripped down the side of his face.
“Are you okay?” Noah climbed inside, the boy wrapping himself around him.
“I got a cut from the bad man. Mom is going to fix it.”
“Let me see.”
The boy had in fact been grazed by a bullet—one from Noah’s own gun. He frowned and met Hannah’s eyes. “Will you let me help?”
She nodded. “I don’t have my medical bag.”
He found the first aid kit. Hannah held out her hand, taking it from him. “You have the harder job.” A small smile settled onto her lips as she looked from Noah to her son.
She’s letting me comfort him.
He was stunned.
Brady scurried onto his lap. “Wait,” said Noah. “Ear protection first.” The headset was in the way of the wound, so Noah fitted the boy with earplugs, taking a pair himself so the two of them matched. Brady clung to him, waiting for his mother to begin.
It felt so good to hold him again after their ordeal, his fear that he would end the life of the people he most wanted to save. He thought of how close he had come to truly hurting Brady, and his eyes stung as emotion poured through him, thick and all consuming. Now it was he who clung to the boy while Hannah bandaged his wound, so grateful they were alive. Hannah and Brady had become more important to him in a short while than he would have thought possible.
Booger and Cowboy climbed into the cabin and Logan into the cockpit, donning their ear protection and settling into their seats. Booger leaned back and pulled a baseball cap over his eyes. Cowboy met Noah’s stare and nodded once.
Noah knew then he and Cowboy would make peace. He’d apologize to Cowboy and be allowed back onto HERO Force, forgiven. Cowboy leaned back and closed his eyes.
As the chopper took off from Hilton Head Island, Noah knew for the first time he was truly leaving his sister behind. Grief was sharp, his tears that had first collected for Brady now mingling with the grief in his heart. He gave in to them, allowing them to drip from his eyes as they’d longed to do for so long.
Lizzie was gone and nothing would change that, but he’d found out the truth of what had happened to her and the men who’d killed her were dead. He had done everything that could be done. His work here was complete.
I miss you, sis.
The tears were cathartic, forcing him to feel the helplessness he’d tried to avoid, the pain. He stroked Brady’s back, his small body warm and heavy and comforting as he cried.
Hannah finished her work and sat beside them, opening her arms. Noah leaned into her, smelling her scent, knowing she could feel his tears against her chest and not caring. She knew everything that was in his heart at this moment and if she thought less of him for his reaction, then that was too damn bad.
She and Brady formed a protective cocoon around Noah, a hard exoskeleton for the weakness in the middle. They stayed that way until the storm inside him passed, the sun breaking through the clouds that had threatened him for far too long. He sat up. “Thank you,” he mouthed, knowing she couldn’t hear him.
She kissed him full on the mouth, surprising him. He looked to Cowboy, then Brady, finding them both asleep, and kissed her back, deeply. By the time he lifted his head, his breathing was beginning to speed up and he thought better of continuing to kiss her.
Their eyes met, hers bright green and shining with emotion. He ran his finger down the side of her face, then leaned back and opened his arm. She snugged into his side, close to her son.
Noah wouldn’t let himself think of the future right now. It was enough just to experience this moment, and he knew he’d remember it for the rest of his life, no matter what happened when they reached Atlanta. He kissed the top of her head, his eyelids suddenly heavy, and fell asleep with a smile.
29
Trevor Hawkins didn’t speak French, whic
h made the trip from the airport to the movie set some two hours outside Paris a royal pain in the ass.
He was tired from flying all night on the cramped airplane, stuck in the middle seat and barely able to sleep. He would have crashed in the taxi, but the driver was determined to make conversation despite how hard it was to communicate, leaving Hawk to repeat, “I don’t want to talk anymore,” over and over again, which served only to make the driver laugh and talk faster.
The diamond ring in his pocket was heavy on his mind. He and Olivia had been talking about marriage for a while now, they even had a timeline—after she finished this movie—but he hadn’t gotten down on one knee and she wasn’t wearing his ring. He’d wanted something special, something worthy of a Hollywood starlet, and that had taken him some time. Now that the time was here, he couldn’t wait to put it on her finger.
And make love like rabbits.
Just the thought had his dick waking up. She’d been gone too long and he missed the fuck out of that woman.
“Savez-vous de quoi je parle?” asked the cabbie, who’d been chattering on while Trevor thought about a naked Olivia beckoning him into bed.
“I don’t want to talk anymore!”
The cabbie laughed hysterically.
It was past noon by the time they reached the set, hundreds of people milling about or running around, but no sign of Olivia. He groaned and pulled his English-French electronic translator from his pocket once more.
Brooke Barrons definitely got a reaction, but it took him a while to explain who he was and to actually get directions to her dressing room. Even as he was grateful, he shook his head at the ease with which he accomplished that task. No wonder she didn’t feel safe here.
He doubted there was anything to really be concerned about, but if she was worried, then he would be here for her, acting as her personal bodyguard for the duration of the film.
And I will like it.
He smiled all the way to her dressing room. Maybe she would have time right now and they could make love before she returned to the set. Her name was on the door, another no-no for someone who wanted to be left alone, and he shook his head. He knocked, the door opening a small crack.
“Olivia?” He pushed it open to reveal a space about fifteen feet square. It was messy, which instantly struck him as odd, then his heart began to pick up speed as he looked more closely. There was makeup scattered on the floor. Jewelry, too. A handheld mirror was shattered, bits of glass shining up from the carpet.
Trevor moved into the bathroom, calling her name, though he already feared she wasn’t here, his mind going into overdrive as he imagined what might have happened. He tried to think of rational explanations. She’d been upset. Maybe she was throwing things.
Then he saw her cell phone and purse sitting on a side table, the hair on the back of his neck going up. She never would have left those here with the door open. Not on purpose, anyway.
A hulking fat man appeared in the doorway, a sandwich in his hand. “Qui es-tu?” demanded the man.
Hawk didn’t need a translator for that one but asked a question of his own. “Where is Brooke Barrons?”
The man looked around the room as if only now realizing she wasn’t there. “I don’t know,” he said in heavily accented English.
“Are you her security detail?”
The man looked at him blankly.
“Her bodyguard?” he clarified.
“Oui, bodyguard.”
Hawk crossed to him. “Then where is she?”
The man shrugged.
“Where the hell were you?”
He held up his sandwich. “Lunch.”
30
Hannah closed the bedroom door and made her way back to Noah’s living room. Brady had woken up after the helicopter flight and stayed awake while they drove to Noah’s house outside Atlanta. They’d never even had a chance to bring their things to Trevor’s, which made it easy enough to change her mind when Noah asked her to stay.
The whole way here she’d worked to keep her mind quiet and her questions about their future at bay. Tonight she would let herself love this man and feel loved in return, no matter what came after.
Anticipation made her jumpy. Longing flushed her cheeks.
From the outside the house looked like a modest ranch, but the inside resembled a wooded cabin, with high-peaked ceilings, knotty pine, and dark beams. It was beautiful and it suited him perfectly.
She stepped into the room. “He’s asleep.”
Noah sat in a big leather chair, his legs stretched out on an ottoman and a bottle of beer in his hand. “Do you want something to drink? Or if you’re tired we can go to bed.”
“I’ll take a beer.” He moved to get up and she waved him back down. “I’m up. I’ll get it.” She found the fridge and reached for a bottle, belatedly realizing she didn’t even want one.
She did want to go to bed, though, but it wasn’t fatigue that was driving her decision. She bit her lip and went back to Noah. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Okay.” He finished his beer and came with her, leading the way down the dark hallway to the bedroom at the end. He turned the light on, a king-sized bed drawing her attention and holding it. She clenched her hands in front of her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have…I guess I just assumed…”
She looked at him and smiled. “I want to sleep with you.”
“Good.” He moved toward her, opening his arms. “I want to sleep with you, too.”
She lifted her head for his kiss, the light scent of beer teasing her nose. He slipped his hand under her shirt and up her back, the feel of his fingers on her skin so good she moaned. “Turn off the light.”
He did as she asked, coming back to her and lifting her in his arms. He laid her on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head before moving beside her. In the darkness she could just make out the shape of his body, his muscles calling out to her to be touched, and she let her hands stroke every inch of exposed skin before unbuckling his pants and moving lower.
“I want to see you,” he said, again slipping his hand beneath her shirt and pulling it up past her bra. He touched her breasts through the fabric. “So beautiful,” he whispered before bending his head, kissing the skin over her heart and the globes peeking out of the lace.
She reached around to her back, unhooking her bra, and he pulled it down, nuzzling her bare nipple before taking it in his mouth. She bucked against him.
She was beyond foreplay, beyond needing this level of care tonight. She wanted to feel him filling her up, making her body come alive, and she stripped off her pants and underwear, eager hands pulling at his clothes until he was as naked as she.
He kissed down her abdomen, his hand moving between her legs, and she spread them wide for him to enter. One single kiss on her clitoris and she knew she’d never be able to hold out. “I need you inside me when I come.” His fingers thrust deep into her body and she gasped, so close to orgasm from that one single move, her body clutching him tightly.
“Jesus, Hannah.” He pulled out, fumbling at the bedside table, the tear of the condom packet like music to her ears. Then he was on top of her, that glorious cock pushing inside her heat, filling her up with everything she needed.
She moved beneath him, matching him stroke for stroke, desperate to become one with this man. She flipped him over and rode him hard, loving the feel of him inside her, the sounds of pleasure he made as she fucked him, his hands on her hips pulling her onto him faster.
She took his hands and held them over his head, kissing him with her tongue as she moved her hips at her own pace. She slid slowly up and down his thick, throbbing shaft, tormenting him as much as herself, until she couldn’t wait anymore and picked up speed. Her orgasm ripped through her, hips freezing as sensation overwhelmed her body.
Noah pushed her onto her back and drove into her, drawing out her climax and intensifying it, her entire body tingling from the explosion of sensation. The slap
of his balls against her was loud, his face determined as he forced himself as deep as he could inside her and cried out with his own release.
He collapsed on top of her.
I could get used to this.
Oh, man, she really could. Sharing a house with this man. Sharing his bed night after night until their bodies were worn out from loving.
But what about Brady?
She could take chances with her own heart but not with his. He was already too attached to Noah, and while she understood it, she couldn’t allow it to continue unless Noah was going to stay in their lives.
“Stay with me,” Noah said, and she frowned as if he’d read her thoughts. “I’m greedy,” he said. “I want days with you to do anything we want.” He pushed up on his arms. “I want time, Hannah. I just made love to you and I can feel you pulling away.”
“Brady already loves you.”
“I love him, too.”
I love you, too.
She wouldn’t allow herself to say the words. It was too soon. Ridiculous to think the feelings were real.
But isn’t that the problem?
The feelings couldn’t be real. They were a byproduct of what they’d been through; there was no way they could last. And while she would gladly take any moment she could with Noah by her side—feeling this way about him—it wasn’t fair to put Brady through the same thing.
“I love you, too, Hannah.”
She pushed him off of her. “You’re heavy.”
“That’s it? I tell you I love you and you tell me I’m heavy?”
She licked her lips, wishing this conversation could have been held at bay, willing to do anything to have the whole night in his arms before pulling herself away. “It’s an illusion. It isn’t real.”
“How can you say that?”
“We were fighting for our lives. We had to rely on each other.”
“I do that shit all the time. I’ve never told anyone I loved them before.”
“Never?”
“No.”
She wanted so desperately to believe it, to make it be true, but nothing he could say would be able to convince her. Her eyes stung and she needed to get away from him before he could see, before he could console her and give her yet another reason to cling to his side. She sat up and pulled her shirt over her head.
