by Raina Wilde
“Absolutely not.” She demanded.
Tucker shook his head. “I can’t guarantee your safety in those woods.”
Lydia cupped his face in her hands and kissed him with tender lips. Somehow, she had come to care deeply for this man in a very short timeframe.
“I’ll do it.” She kissed him again. “You’ll keep me safe.” There was a confidence in her words that he did not seem to share. He leaned his forehead against her own.
“What if I can’t?” He whispered.
“If you can’t, then no one can.” With that, they began to prepare for the day ahead.
The morning was spent making small purchases on the outskirts of the region. Sources had confirmed that Renaldo was watching Lydia’s credit card activity, though she could not fathom how he was able to do that so quickly. They left a trail of purchases that led to a town north of the border. There they made sure to let slip to multiple residents that they would be renting a small cabin a few miles west.
With a trail for Renaldo to follow, the pair drove into the forest to wait their imminent doom. Lydia could not stop shaking. She was so nervous that when she was introduced to the nine other American soldiers, and the fourteen Frenchmen, she could not have repeated any one of their names.
Nightfall came and Lydia became even more nervous. They lit the cabin in all of its glorious splendor. The fireplace was stocked and wet logs were periodically added to create a visible trail of smoke for Renaldo to follow. The cabin itself was like a shining star in the middle of the blackened forest. Three men remained in the cabin with her, hunkered down out of the view of the windows. She was instructed to walk past the windows once every half hour or so, allowing her shadow to pass across the light from within.
When the clock struck midnight she was exhausted. Tucker was somewhere out in the woods with most of the other men, pretending to be trees or whatever invisible features they had disguised themselves as. She hated the idea of him out there. What if Renaldo’s men did not come up the road? What if they crept through the forest and came up behind the waiting ambush.
A shot rang through the night air, causing Lydia to jump up from her seat on the couch. The man who was lying on the floor at her feet pulled her ankles out from beneath her and caused her to crash to the floor.
“Stay down.” The French soldier hissed.
“You told me to walk in front of the windows.” She argued.
“Not anymore.” He rolled away from her, his rifle tucked to his chest, and crawled around the edge of the couch to make a series of hand signals at the men who sat on either side of the doorway. Then he crawled back to lay beside Lydia.
Another shot rang and all of a sudden the night was filled with gunfire. Lydia covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes. She was curled in the fetal position, trying to imagine away the fire fight, when the front half of the cabin exploded in flames. Lydia screamed and the French soldier clamped a hand over her mouth. His two friends were gone, along with the front half of the building. She did not know what would make an explosion like that but was glad when her protector muttered something about the couch taking the bulk of the blast for them.
“We have to move.” He pulled her to her feet and they ran, in a crouched position, out through the gap where a wall used to be, and into the moonlit forest.
Every so often he would fire a few shots behind them, but Lydia was fairly certain that they were clear of the main fighting which appeared to be happening further down the trail that led to the cabin.
Suddenly, the man beside her collapsed. Lydia saw the clean bullet hole straight through his heart. She turned in time to feel the sharp sting of a bullet pierce her shoulder; another in her thigh caused her to fall to the ground. It was as if her dream had become reality, except that instead of the crunch of glass she could hear the snapping of twigs and leaves.
She saw the figure moving around the edge of her vision and she screamed Tucker’s name as loud as she could. She had no idea where he was. Dead or alive. The figure drew closer and crouched over her. It was not the gray suited man, but Renaldo Jaquiennes himself.
“My pretty American.” He laughed. “Not pretty enough to trick me.”
“I’m not a spy.” She spoke in a hurried voice. Lydia shrieked when he squeezed the tender flesh of her shoulder.
“Liar.” He spat. “You are a spy and you’re going to die like one.”
Lydia realized that the rest of the forest had fallen silent. They had lost, she realized. Why else would the fighting have stopped while Renaldo still lived?
A single shot echoed through the trees. Renaldo’s head snapped back with a sharp jerk and he collapsed beside her. Lydia looked into his dead eyes and screamed the loudest yet.
Before she knew what was happening she was surrounded by French and American men, securing the area and checking for surviving enemies.
“It’s a shame we couldn’t take them alive.” Lydia heard the foreign words but her brain was slow in translation. She felt dizzy and sick. Renaldo’s body was removed from her side and a medic began to staunch the bleeding in her wounds.
Lydia drifted in and out of consciousness.
Then, there was nothing but blackness.
When she awoke in the hospital she had no idea how long she had been there. Tucker slept in the chair at her side, his head lolling with each gentle snore. As soon as she shifted he snapped to attention and began running his hands over her body, as if checking to make sure she was all there.
“I’m fine.” The weakness in her voice apparent.
“I was afraid to touch you until you were awake.” He admitted, bringing the straw from a glass of water to her lips. “I’m so sorry, Lydia.”
“I’m fine.” She repeated with more force. “Is it over?”
He nodded. “Yes. It’s all over. With his forces split the Monacan government seized control of his center of operations. Everyone else came to the cabin that night. He really thought that you were a terrible threat.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. She could feel that it was still crusted with blood. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s over. That’s all that matters.” Lydia was surprised to find that she meant it. She was no longer afraid, only weary. “What happens now?” She was afraid that he would say that he was leaving for another mission. That somehow this would mean that it was over for them as well. Lydia waited with bated breath.
“Now, you recover.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I thought, maybe, I’d stick around for that.”
“Maybe?” she teased.
“OK. Definitely.” Tucker smiled.
“Until I recover?” She knew that she was pressing the issue but she wanted to know how much time she had with him.
“Or longer.” He kissed her with slow, tempered passion. “I’d like to learn more about these other places you plan on traveling to. I’m thinking that you might need a bodyguard.”
Lydia laughed. “You know, before I would have said that you were crazy, but I’m starting to think that you are right.”
“Let’s just focus on getting you healthy first.” Tucker leaned forward to kiss her with a smile on his lips. The instinctive reaction of her body warned Lydia that she had better focus on healing fast.
THE END
Thanks for reading!
About the Author
By day she is a loving wife and a respected working mother. But when the sun sets and the shades are drawn she becomes Raina Wilde, the devilishly naughty romance writer with an insatiable appetite for lustful tales.
With a flair for pulse-quickening romance that will leave you shaking and breathless, Ms. Wilde always makes sure to leave her readers with a happy ending.
Check out Raina Wilde’s author page here to see her complete catalogue!
Thanks for reading!
Bad Boy Short Stories)
