Above Protection (Imperfect Heroes Book 1)

by C. J. Pinard

  I put my hands back in my lap and sighed. He never answered my question. He just continued to steer the car down the highway toward the cabin. I saw him have to pull out the paper map once, but otherwise, he knew his way. I soon found myself staring at the old trees that lined the small dirt road that led to our prison.

  We only had 4 bags. Duke grabbed all four and then armed the car’s alarm, and with his eyes darting to and fro, he made sure nobody was around. Before going into the house, he made me wait outside while he checked inside. It didn’t take him more than 30 seconds to come back outside to tell me it was safe to come in.

  I knew why he did it, but it did seem a little extreme. I didn’t think anyone could have followed us or had found our location so quickly, but I guessed anything was possible.

  Following him into the kitchen, I told him I would put the food away. He grunted his thanks and left the bags sitting on the dining room table. I watched him disappear around the corner and laughed to myself, thinking he probably didn’t want to actually have to see or touch my feminine products.

  With a snort of amusement, I put the food away, and began to think up recipes in my head I could make with the few items we had bought. Meat, milk, cheese, eggs, bread, pasta, spaghetti sauce, tortillas, coffee, creamer, some frozen breakfast items, portable drinks, and other quick packaged snacks.

  I opened a cupboard and was delighted to find a rack of spices. Then my smile fell when I realized they were probably 30 years old. I began pulling them out, checking the expiration dates (did spices ever ‘expire’ anyway?) and was happy to see quite a few of them weren’t expired or were barely past their dates and deemed them safe. More creative recipes began to form in my mind, glad I would have something to do to fill the boredom besides read. As I was replacing the spices, the light from the kitchen caught something shiny like glass in the back of the cupboard. Looking to see if Duke was around, and satisfied he still wasn’t, I stood on tiptoe and reached for it. My hand closed around cold glass, and carefully pulling it out, I set it on the counter. I gaped in shock to see a black label reading “Jim Beam. Original Bourbon Whiskey” and then smiled at my find.

  I turned the bottle around to read the small date printed on the label: 1997. Wow, 19 year old whiskey – score! He didn’t want me having wine, but at least if I needed a shot to take the edge off, I’d have this.

  Quickly replacing the bottle back into the cupboard and putting the spices in front of it, I closed it and made two sandwiches. I carefully placed a small bag of chips on each plate and set them down at the table.

  “Hey, Duke, I made sandwiches, are you hungry?”

  Chapter 11

  Duke

  When I heard her call me to lunch, I grinned a little. Hell yeah, little woman making me a sandwich. Every guy’s dream. Too bad she’s not doing it naked. Then the fantasy would be complete.

  Wait. I’m working. I’m the agent, and she’s the vic. Not my little woman. I shook my head in disgust at myself and went out to the kitchen. When I walked in, all I saw was ass. A nice, round one in a pair of jeans, bending over at the dining room table.

  “Did you lose something?” I asked, my arms folded over my chest.

  She righted herself, cheeks turning pink as she held up a small bag of chips. “Dropped this.” She sat down at the table and pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”

  I obeyed and my mouth watered at the sight of the sandwich sitting on a glass plate. A bag of chips lay near it, and a can of soda next to the plate.

  I watched as she took a small bite of her sandwich, which was cut in half. She bit into it like a priss, then used a paper napkin to wipe away the nonexistent crumbs or whatever.

  Without wasting time, I took a huge bite of mine and my eyes rolled back in my head. Best damn sandwich ever.

  “What’s in this?” I asked, my mouth full.

  When my eyes met hers, there was a happiness and pride I could see there. She didn’t look smug, but rather satisfied with herself. As if she enjoyed the compliment I had inadvertently paid her.

  “Turkey, cheese, mayo, mustard, and baby spinach. I grilled the bread in some butter and salt in the pan over the stove first, though.”

  Nodding, I bit into the sandwich again. “It is very good, you are a good cook.”

  Did I just pay her another compliment? I was seriously losing my hard edge. No way was this very attractive yet infuriatingly annoying woman gonna do that to me.

  She was still smiling, and she held eye contact with me as she shoveled a chip into her mouth. I swallowed my bite without chewing it all the way at the look she was giving me. Grabbing the soda, I popped the top and guzzled down the sickeningly sweet fizzy liquid. Once my food went down, I fought the urge to gag. Soda… no. Cancer in a can.

  I got up, rummaged through the cupboard, and found a cup. Filling it with tap water, I drank long and deep to be sure the food went down – and to get that disgusting sugary taste out of my mouth. Tap water wasn’t the best, but it was better than soda.

  Returning to the table, I sat down and continued to eat. Rayanne, who was done with her lunch, watched me, her eyes dancing in curiosity.

  “Not a fan of pop?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s bad for you.”

  She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “And that dip you shove into your lip isn’t?”

  My sandwich paused at my mouth, I quickly countered, “Dip doesn’t make you soft and fat.”

  “That’s what the gym is for,” she replied, seeming to be proud of her quick retort. I decided not to reply to that, but she kept talking. “That’s diet soda, by the way, no calories or sugar.”

  “But full of chemicals,” I rebutted.

  She laughed again. “Ah, the truth comes out. Chemical nazi, are you?”

  I wasn’t going to respond to that, because she was right and I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. I finished my sandwich, then tossed the crumbly paper plate into the trash. I dumped the Diet Pepsi down the drain in the sink. With a look of pride, I made eye contact with her as I tossed the now-empty can into the trash.

  I heard her laughing again as I left the kitchen.

  As much as she annoyed me, I knew she was right. There was nothing on the damn TV and I’d already read all the magazines I’d bought, cover to cover. I was so bored, I was tempted to ask to borrow one of the paperback books she’d bought earlier. I was never a huge fan of reading, and seeing as she’d mostly picked up chick romance books and some vampire shit, I was reluctant to ask. I then briefly wondered if I should look around the house for something to fix. I suppose I could replace her doorknob. If I could find some tools.

  I looked at my watch and saw it was about 10 p.m. Doorknob could wait, I guess. I went in search of her, and I found her on her bed, her door wide open, reading a book. She’d changed out of her jeans and was now in some sort of white dress thing, her bare legs and feet so smooth looking. She was lying on her stomach, her ankles crossed and in the air, swinging back and forth as she read. She must have heard me approach, because she turned her head toward the doorway and placed the book, still open, face down on the bed.

  Smiling, she said, “What’s up, Cowboy?”

  Trying not to smile at her, and feeling my dick twitch behind my zipper at how sexy she looked, I kept my face impassive. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m heading to bed. Get me if you hear or see anything suspicious.”

  She swiveled her body around, placing her bare feet on the floor. She saluted me with her left hand, which made me bite back a smile, and said, “Yes, sir.”

  Coming to stand just inches from me in the doorway, she whispered, “Goodnight.” Then the door was closed in my face.

  Once it was closed, I couldn’t help but smile. Why did she have to be so damn cute?

  Thankfully, I had slept soundly. But upon waking, I checked my phone to see the time, and seeing it was 6 a.m., I pushed myself to get up and check on the vic.

  Just like the
day before, she was lying in bed, the blankets piled on top of her. I smiled a little at the paperback still clutched in her hand. I checked the front door and all the windows once again to be sure they were secure. Then I set my phone’s alarm for 8 a.m. and crawled back in bed. I didn’t see any reason to be up this early.

  As I was about to pull the covers back over me, my phone lit up and vibrated. I looked at the screen to see a text from Jack-N-Jill:

  Still alive, big guy?

  I quickly typed back my reply: Yes. Thanks for waiting 2 days to check on us, asshole.

  I shouldn’t be so disrespectful, but fuck… I couldn’t believe they’d waited this long to make contact.

  Another text quickly shot back: We tried several times to reach you on the landline at the cabin and received no response.

  What? What landline? We’d been here the whole fucking time. Well, shit, except for our little shopping trip. So I replied: What time?

  The response was immediate: About noon yesterday.

  Oops. We’d been out. So I apologized. Sorry, we were out getting essentials. Won’t happen again.

  Another speedy response read: Copy.

  And that was it. I lay back down and drifted back into nothingness.

  As my phone’s alarm screamed at me to get up, I slammed my eyes open. As my senses hit me, the one coming after sight was smell.

  Is that bacon?

  Bacon can always make me get out of bed. Of course, I can eat bacon after I hit the bathroom and get rid of this boner. Was there anything worse than morning wood when you wake up in an empty bed? No, no there wasn’t.

  Leaning over and trying to pee with a hard-on was always a challenge, but of course I had mastered it. Spend a year eating sand and MREs, surrounded by dudes and very few attractive women (trust me, there were a couple, but I didn’t meet their standards, apparently), and you could master the art of pissing with rock-hard wood.

  Pulling my shorts up and wandering into the kitchen, I saw Rayanne shoveling eggs and something else onto plates and putting them onto the old wood dining room table. She had on that same white dress thing, which was probably a nightgown, and nothing else.

  Just when I had gotten rid of the hard-on…

  “Good morning, Duke,” she said with a smirk, her eyes traveling the length of my body before settling back on her chore.

  She set the second plate onto the table, and with a smart look on her pretty face, she gestured toward the food. “Please eat.”

  With a nod and the niggling urge to get some nicotine in my system, I sat in the same chair as last night and looked down at the plate. Bacon, eggs with cheese, and a waffle that had been cooked in the toaster. I picked up my fork and ate without a word.

  Rayanne sat across from me, her fork poking at the food on her identical clear plate. Even though the table was oak, I could see from the corner of my eye, that her slim and pale legs were crossed under the table as she ate the breakfast she’d prepared for both of us.

  I could also tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, but there was no way I was going to let my eyes wander there again. They’d gone there when I’d entered the kitchen a few minutes ago, but being the gentleman I am, I had kept my gaze fixed on hers without wandering down to her chest.

  “Did you like breakfast?” she finally asked, her light brown eyes boring into mine.

  I nodded. “Yes, thanks. I would have gotten this but obviously you got up first.”

  Setting her fork down with a clink, she replied, “I don’t mind doing the cooking. In fact, just let me do it. I’m bored and need to keep busy.”

  I nodded in understanding. That’s why I had made breakfast yesterday. I had been used to keeping busy. I wasn’t the best cook around, but I knew how to make bacon and eggs and a few other things.

  But hell, if she wanted to do the cooking, I most certainly wasn’t going to object. I wanted to keep her mind preoccupied and off the fact that someone was trying to kill her.

  As I stared at her from across the table, I took in her soft features. The way her eyelashes cast a shadow on her cheekbones as she looked down at her meal. The way her mouth opened to invite the food inside. Her jawline so sharp and smooth as it opened all the way up. But most of all, the soft curve of her neck as she leaned forward to eat. I shook my head at my own idiocy. Never in my life had I analyzed a woman eating before. I’d had plenty of girls in my house, my bed, but never before had I paid so much attention to detail.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  Realizing I was acting like a chump with these thoughts, I quickly shoveled the rest of my food in my mouth, dumped my plate in the sink, determined to clean up later, and went back into my room.

  I didn’t bother to look back at the vic, even though I could feel her stare on my back as I walked out of the kitchen.

  Sitting on my bed, I rested my forearms on my knees and sighed. My leg was hurting especially fiercely today and I tried not to acknowledge that, but it was hard to ignore. I jammed my thumb into the scar on my thigh through my pants and sighed. Would this pain ever go away?

  Probably not.

  Even though I had kept my injury secret from the FBI, I had a sinking feeling that they knew. I closed my eyes and remembered my days back in Quantico.

  I’d been required to run miles in a certain amount of time, and I’d done it, but it had come at a price. Once back in my dorm the night of that test, I had done everything in my power to fight back the tears of pain that wanted to consume me.

  In all fairness, I really shouldn’t have been running miles like that on this leg. Sure, the huge chunk of shrapnel had been removed from my thigh under the careful scrutiny of a doctor, but that didn’t mean I was back to normal. I knew I never would be, but I was stubborn and stupid.

  I passed all the physical and psych tests the FBI had thrown at me, but when I was alone in my dorm – or later, in my house – there were demons that I had to flog back. Demons that plagued me day and night. Keeping my mind on SSG Ellis Anderson and his heroic events was the only thing that kept me sane and human. That damn kid, with his dark hair and curious sky blue eyes staring at me on that battlefield, willing me to stay alive.

  I’d heard he had a new girl. That they were gonna get married and had a baby on the way. Grinning at the possibility, I couldn’t imagine that dude being a father. But then again, what did any of us – Ellis, me, my brother Mason – know about being a father? Nothing, that’s what.

  I massaged my leg again. I had some ibuprofen and even some Percocet in my bag, and I wanted to take some. But to do so meant I was weak and unable to cope, and that was one title I was unwilling to live with. So I lay back on my bed and thought of something other than pain or sex.

  Chapter 12

  Rayanne

  I was going stir-crazy – just like I knew I would. A little fresh air would do me good, so I thought, why not… nobody would notice if I went for a walk in the massive woods that sprawled out behind the cabin I was currently imprisoned in.

  Duke was watching a local football game on TV and when I wandered into the kitchen, he didn’t even turn his head in my direction. I knew he’d say no if I asked him to go on a walk with me, or if I could go on one by myself, so I simply snuck out the back door from the kitchen.

  It was early fall so it wasn’t that cold out, nor was it hot, so the sweater I wore seemed to be just fine. I closed the kitchen door very quietly and set off to take a long walk and clear my head.

  As I began walking, the colorful, dead leaves crunched under my boots. They weren’t loud, but the sound kept me company as I walked. I was surrounded by Elm and Spruce trees, which were still full, but I could see bare spots in all of them, shafts of dotted sunlight slicing through and bathing my face in warmth.

  A few steps away, I spied a lone purple flower growing tall and proud from the ground. There was nothing else around it, and I went to it, crouching down to inspect it. I had no idea what kind of flower it was, but I could see the edges of it
s petal were beginning to turn brown. I decided it needed to be picked, so I gently plucked it from the ground and twirled it in my hands.

  “You sure are beautiful,” I said to it.

  So I’d taken to talking to flowers. Great. If Duke wasn’t such an ogre, I wouldn’t mind sitting and talking with him. But he was just a big jerk.

  I kept walking, twirling the flower in my hand as I got lost in my thoughts. I wanted to talk to Duke, ask him questions if for no other reason than to pass the time. I wanted to ask him how he got that limp, and why he ate so healthy and worked out but insisted on chewing tobacco. Which totally grossed me out. I had a feeling the two were related. Had he been shot in the line of duty and now he used nicotine to calm himself? I figured he couldn’t self-medicate with marijuana like so many did since he had a government job and probably got drug tested on the regular.

  We’d had clients at the law firm who had sought legal help for getting fired from their jobs for testing hot for drugs from their employer. We had basically turned them down, telling them we couldn’t do anything for them. It was a state law and they were out of luck. We had a couple government employees seek our help in getting back their jobs, and we couldn’t help them, either. Self-medicating or not, smoking marijuana was illegal. Well, it was in Florida. I knew other states had legalized it, but I didn’t think we’d ever see that in my home state.

  I sighed, thinking about my job. I loved being a paralegal. I was hopeful after this mess was over that I would find another job and get back to doing what I loved. That was – if I survived this mess.

  Thoughts of the threatening phone calls I’d received for days still echoed in my head. They had scared the shit out of me, and if I were honest, I was still scared. I knew I had to testify at that trial in eight days, as much as I wanted to just bury my head in the sugar white sands of the beach. What George and Elmo had done was despicable and they deserved to go to prison. The thought made me sad. The brothers had been like uncles to me during my five years of employment there, and once it sank in what they had been doing, I was just so hurt over the whole thing. And to think they had paid someone to threaten me not to testify. To call me and promise such hideous and awful things if I went into that courtroom hurt badly. It scared me, too. I hadn’t slept much in those days before the government had taken over and sent agents to protect me. If I were honest, as much of a jerk as Duke was, I was glad they had sent him to look after me. It was clear he took his job seriously, and was acting professionally – for the most part. Still, something inside of me wanted to get to know him better.