After MidKnight (Knight Ops Book 4)

by Em Petrova

  And thinking of the man who’d answered the phone.

  * * * * *

  Roades hit redial on the phone for the tenth time. When the line remained dead, not even connecting, he slammed the side of his fist off the countertop. “Dammit!”

  It was Carissa’s number. He’d recognize it if he was blind and had Alzheimer’s. The woman was calling him after all this time and that could only mean one thing.

  She needed him.

  But he couldn’t just hop a flight and show up at her door. Hell, he didn’t know if she still even lived in the same house. By now, she probably had her own place. She could be married and have a couple kids by now.

  A deep ache took over his chest, and he pressed his lips into a firm line. It didn’t matter what her marital status was—she’d called for a reason.

  It couldn’t be accidental. She’d spoken his name.

  And damn if the breathy tone of her voice wasn’t still sending his libido electrical shock after electrical shock.

  “Shit.” He’d gone through every cuss word there was between her dropped call and now. He picked up the phone. He was going to try once more and then…

  What?

  He’d decide in a minute.

  He dialed. It remained dead.

  “Fucking hell.” He set down the receiver again and braced his hands on the counter, breathing hard. His mind flying through the options. Which didn’t take long, because he was Knight Ops and they were trained to make decisions in a split second.

  Shoving off the counter, he strode out of the kitchen. The house was silent, his parents long since in bed and Lexi was… Well, she was Lexi. She might have sneaked out to run wild with some guy who was inevitably bad for her, for all he knew. Though last he’d heard, she was talking to his own teammate Rocko. And the man had better not fuck with his baby sister or he’d be eating all ten of Roades’ knuckles for breakfast, lunch, dinner and a midnight snack.

  He reached his room and yanked his duffel out from under the bed. He tossed it on the mattress and started filling it. Weapons and ammo came first and then he piled clothes on top.

  After zipping it shut—the whole operation had taken him less than two minutes to complete—he stood there thinking. He needed transport, and no way was he heading out on a domestic flight.

  He grabbed his cell and called his friend, a military helicopter pilot who had his own private plane. In his spare time, Cohen threw darts at a map to decide where to fly today. Well, Roades was here to tell him it was Puerto Rico.

  “Damn, Roades, it’s late.” His buddy’s voice came to him through the phone.

  “Hope you’re awake.”

  “I am. You wanna hit a bar or something? I haven’t done the pub crawl in months.”

  “Nope. I need transport.”

  A beat of silence. “What trouble are you in?”

  “No trouble.”

  “I heard you—”

  “I don’t care what you heard. This has nothing to do with OFFSUS.”

  “If you’re AWOL, I won’t be involved with aiding a criminal.”

  That made Roades laugh, a harsh bark that reflected the turmoil inside him right now. Carissa needed him, he felt it deep in his gut. And he was over five hours away from her by air.

  “They want me out of their hair for a bit, and I have something to do.”

  “Can’t it wait till morning?”

  “No. Cohen, you know you owe me one.”

  “You’re right, I do. But I never thought you’d collect on that favor.”

  “What good is a fucking favor if you don’t collect on it?” Roades shot back. He shouldered his duffel and headed to the door. “I’m on my way over. Gas up.”

  “Man, you know I have a checklist to go over before I fly. The body, the equipment…”

  “We both know damn well that you’ve already done those checks earlier today.” Cohen was the most conscientious pilot he knew, aware that a lot of small aircraft went down for stupid reasons that could be avoided.

  “You know how to push a man. You should become a team leader.”

  “Maybe once my brother retires, I will. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  The road from his family’s home to Cohen’s was the same one they took to go to their cabin in the bayou. He’d considered hiding out there for weeks but something had been stopping him. Now he knew what it was.

  At the cabin, there was no cell service unless he had the satellite phone, and he’d relinquished it along with his position on the Knight Ops team while on probation. Which meant Carissa never would have reached him.

  Knights didn’t believe in coincidence, and Roades sure as hell was a Knight.

  Carissa’s beautiful image hung in his mind, her heart-shaped face and piercing dark eyes beckoning him from hundreds of miles away.

  I’m coming, Carissa. Whatever you need from me, I’m at your service.

  Once more, that slow burn took up residence in his groin. Too bad the things he wanted to give probably weren’t the ones she would ask for.

  Six hours later the plane touched down on an abandoned runway of the military base that had cleared out after the hurricane. In the pilot’s seat, Cohen looked at him. “How you getting where you need to go?”

  “Don’t worry. I got it from here.” He unsealed the door and climbed out of the cockpit. He paused to look back in at his buddy, holding out his fist. Cohen bumped knuckles with him and gave him a crooked grin.

  “You always were a daredevil. I swear you should have been a spy dropping into enemy territory.”

  He practically was. Carissa and her family weren’t exactly on friendly terms after what he’d done to her.

  “Thanks again, Cohen.”

  “Call if you need me to come back for you. I’m retired now.”

  Roades lifted a brow skeptically. “Sure you are.”

  Cohen shot him a private smile and then nodded. “See you soon, Knight. Godspeed.”

  Roades closed the hatch door, shouldered his duffel again and started walking. The dawn was just rising in the east, giving him enough light to see the weeds sprouting through the cracks of the cement on the abandoned airstrip.

  Chapter Three

  Carissa slipped back into the clinic and dropped the bag she was carrying. The contents were worth more than her life, and that was exactly what she was putting on the line every time she went to visit Angel.

  “What choice do I have?” she murmured and unzipped the bag.

  The inside was stuffed with all the medicines of all types. Things her patients needed.

  Maybe she should take her own advice to Juanita and get the hell out of Puerto Rico and to the mainland. There at least she could get a job, start over.

  That meant leaving her cousin and little brother behind, but Hernan was avoiding her and Mari could do for herself.

  The other times she’d traded for the medicines, the crates she held in her possession had been enough of a payment. Now Angel was making other demands.

  The door opening had her zipping the bag quickly and turning to see another neighbor, an older woman who’d been in the throes of cancer treatment when the clinic closed. The next town over had a facility, but Mrs. Galarza was not about to leave the world she knew and loved, even if it was destroyed from the natural disaster.

  Carissa felt that familiar sinking feeling, like she was on the Titanic and knowing the only option was to hold tight and wait it out.

  Or hope for rescue.

  “Hello, Mrs. Galarza.” Her voice was overly bright. “Come in and sit down.”

  The woman crossed the space and sank to the chair. She set her bag in her lap and then reached in to pull out a loaf of freshly baked bread wrapped in paper. Their regular appointment usually ended in Carissa having a full bread box, and for that she was grateful.

  “I only got the one loaf this week. I’m sorry, dear.” Mrs. Galarza’s expression hung.

  Carissa’s heart went out to her, and she settled
a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “One is more than enough.”

  “I don’t know how it could be. And I’d like to know how you’re getting the medicine I need.”

  Carissa waved her off. “I manage. Now, let’s set this loaf right here where it won’t dry out in the sun.” As she lay the bread to the side, the scents of yeast made her realize she’d forgotten breakfast in her hurry to meet Angel again and get the things she’d forgotten the previous day.

  While Carissa gathered the medicines for Mrs. Galarza and placed them into a bag, she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to not run these errands anymore. To not trade illegally and pray she wasn’t caught.

  She gripped the bag of medicine for a second, staring at nothing. Then Mrs. Galarza spoke, and Carissa turned with a smile.

  “I’ve had a bit more energy of late.” The older woman sprang from the chair and reached for the bag. “I appreciate these pills, Carissa girl. I really do.”

  “I wish I could get more than a week’s worth at a time.” The sample packs ran out fast.

  She waved in dismissal. “Next time I’ll bring you two loaves of bread and maybe some quesitos.”

  Carissa smiled at the mention of the pastries but she didn’t feel it. Once the woman left, she massaged her aching temples and tried to focus her mind for the day. First, she needed to lock up the medicines she’d just received. Then—

  The door opened again. Carissa dropped her hand abruptly and turned with a smile.

  The smile fell before it appeared, and her heart did a wild tango.

  Roades.

  Her breath hitched, and her entire body trembled with the need to go to the man she’d fallen in love with so long ago and never stopped thinking about since.

  His broad shoulders took up the entire doorway. When he stepped over the threshold, he ducked. With a shock, she realized he’d grown several inches since his teen years. He wore all black, his snug T-shirt showcasing muscles he’d never had before. And those cargo pants hung perfectly low on his hips.

  But it was his eyes that really slayed her. They were deep and penetrating. They made her remember things, long ago buried.

  The morning light streamed through the windows to beam over his ruggedly handsome features. His nose had a slight bump on the bridge, making her think he’d broken it at some point.

  Her gaze moved over those lips that looked so hard but were incredibly tender, to his jaw, more angled than before and dark with beard growth.

  Her stomach flipped again, filling with a liquid heat that was all too familiar when it came to having Roades in front of her.

  She had to get a grip on her rioting emotions. He was here—somehow her ten-second phone call had summoned him to her door and now she had to pretend that he hadn’t been her whole world at one time.

  Dragging in a deep breath, she asked, “What happened to you?”

  He raised a hand, fingers long and inciting visions of them on her body, and probed the edge of his bruised and swollen eye. “Had a tough walk in.”

  His voice had matured too, grown grittier.

  She spun to her first-aid cabinet, gesturing to the chair. “Sit down and I’ll see what I can do for the swelling.”

  He didn’t move immediately, and she felt his hot gaze burning into her back. Or maybe her backside. Oh God, why had she called Roades? She had only been thinking of putting an end to Hernan’s bad business and not about what Roades being here would mean to her.

  Because, if she was honest, it meant everything. Her stupid little fool heart was pattering far too fast for a man who’d left her steps away from the altar.

  Then she’d never heard from again.

  She collected antiseptic and gauze to treat the cut on his cheekbone and an ice pack. She opened the package and shook it to activate the cold. He was so near, watching her, those dark eyes never moving from her face as she tried to conceal the fact that her hands were shaking.

  For the first time, she wished she’d taken a few extra minutes on her appearance. She wore old jeans and a white blouse knotted at the waist, and her hair was in a messy bun piled high on her head. She felt escaped tendrils brushing her jaw.

  Avoiding his gaze, she fixed her stare on his black eye. “Only a big, meaty fist could do this sort of damage,” she said.

  He grunted. The sound filtered through her like the warmth of a hundred summer days after being cast into the Antarctic.

  She steadied her trembling hand and dabbed antiseptic on the gauze. When she gently pressed it to Roades’ skin, he didn’t even flinch.

  But her insides were jiggling like pudding at touching this man again. At seventeen, she’d thought him adult. His serious demeanor had always made him seem older than his years. Now she realized a few years had really made huge differences in him.

  Like how big he was.

  And manly.

  She winced as she cleaned the cut. “Sorry if I’m hurting you.”

  He didn’t respond, and she darted a glance at his face to find his stare on her, steady. Searching.

  Her breath trickled out of her.

  “You’re lucky this didn’t break your orbital bone.”

  “I wasn’t too concerned for my safety. He got a lucky punch.”

  Looking at him, no wonder he wasn’t afraid.

  “What is this place? Some sort of clinic?”

  She nodded, swiping away a bit more blood, allowing the antiseptic to clear away the dried stuff. “The clinic in town closed after the hurricane and I have a lot of people coming to me for help.”

  “Are you trained?”

  She looked into his eyes. “I’m a nurse.”

  His Adam’s apple slid up and down his thick, tanned throat. “Your skills must have come in handy. This place isn’t the same at all.”

  “Yes, there’s a lot of damage. You should have seen it in the days after the hurricane. A lot of cleanup has taken place, though we have far to go.”

  Their conversation seemed surreal. They were discussing anything but why she’d called him and how either of them had lived their lives in the years since seeing each other.

  This bigger, brighter version of Roades didn’t seem in any hurry to speak about it, though, so she bit her tongue and cleaned away the last of the blood. Then she pressed some gauze over the wound followed by the ice pack.

  “Hold this in place.”

  He took over holding the ice pack. When she started to lower her hand, he caught it in his free one. His grip warm, rough. Her eyes threatened to close at the mere sensation.

  He captured her gaze and held it prisoner. Her breaths came faster.

  “Now that I’m no longer bleeding, it’s time to talk, Carissa.”

  * * * * *

  Slowly, she extricated her hand from his grasp and stepped back. Roades couldn’t stop looking at her. The changes in her were striking. The same Carissa but enhanced—plumper lips, more curves. She was more feminine.

  She had the same lean legs that had driven him out of his mind at seventeen. Now her sex appeal drove him to new heights.

  She brushed a loose tendril of hair from her high cheekbone and riveted her glimmering black eyes on him. He’d always thought her eyes held her entire soul, and now it almost hurt him to meet them. He saw she’d experienced pain since he’d walked out of her life, and it was impossible not to take that on his shoulders.

  “Can I get you a drink or anything to eat?” she asked. Her hand landed on the counter and her knuckles whitened with tension.

  He shook his head. “Tell me why you called me.”

  She stiffened a bit at his command, and he realized she wasn’t used to this version of him. He’d had a lot of living in their time apart too, and the man he was now was one tough motherfucker. The assholes who’d jumped him during his walk here had learned that the hard way.

  When she dropped her gaze to her feet, his heart recalled every sweet thing she’d ever said to him. How she loved him, never wanted to be parted from him. An
d dammit, he’d felt the same.

  If his father hadn’t pried them apart, he would have married her.

  Then he wouldn’t be a Marine or involved with OFFSUS. It was impossible to gauge how he felt about any of that, so he pushed it from his mind.

  “Start from the beginning. Where are your parents?”

  Her head snapped up. “They’re gone. Killed in a car accident four months after you left.”

  All the air exited his lungs in a rush. He’d broken her and then left her to deal alone with her parents’ loss.

  “What about Hernan?”

  She drew her shoulders back. “I raised him.”

  “Alone?” Part of him didn’t believe a woman like Carissa was single. He’d thought about it a lot during the flight and long walk here, but in the end, he’d decided it didn’t matter if she was married. She’d called him for a reason, and he was going to help.

  “With the help of my cousin Mari.”

  Relief washed over him, but he wasn’t going to recognize that. He nodded. “I remember Mari.”

  “She lives here with me, but Hernan…”

  He looked at her harder. The change in her voice, the slight wobble alerted him to the reason he was here pointing to Hernan.

  “Well, Hernan was bueno for many years. But since the hurricane and the people fleeing, the businesses closed…” She trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose. A nose Roades had kissed so many times he’d lost count.

  He lowered the ice pack. “Now he’s back to his old ways?”

  She bit down on her lower lip. The action made Roades’ cock jerk, and it was all he could do to remain seated and not stand and yank her into his arms.

  After an agonizing second of his internal battle, she nodded. “He’s stopping the free water supply from reaching the people.”

  “Stopping it how?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Only that he’s charging for it.”

  “Fuck.”

  She stared at him, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have called you, Roades. I’m sorry you made the trip down here when you must have other obligations. I just didn’t know what to do. Hernan isn’t going to listen to me. I can’t even find him.”