by Liliana Hart
“All hell broke loose. Bullets flying from every direction. There was nothing to do but cover and wait for help to arrive. By the time it was over, I’d lost all but two of my men.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I could’ve made different choices,” he said, pulling the truck to a stop and backing up to position the boat. “It’s torture to hold command, to make choices and demand that your men continue to follow orders even when they’re dropping like flies around you. The two who survived—”
He paused and turned off the engine, the silence deafening as he gathered his thoughts. “We managed to regroup and stick together until the backup units came to lay down cover so we could get out. But we watched as the ones firing at us began to seek out the fallen soldiers and gather their bodies in a pile. They doused them with gasoline and set them on fire while we stayed hidden—helpless to do anything about it.” His breath was controlled as he let it out softly. “Make sure your men survive and leave no one behind. I failed on both accounts.”
She reached out hesitantly and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I understand what you’re saying, and I know this wasn’t easy for you to tell me. Why did you?”
“Because I understand what it’s like to feel like you didn’t do enough. And I understand what it feels like to have no one around to bring you out of the abyss and the nightmares when things get bad. I didn’t have a family to come home to. I was an only child and my parents died in a car wreck when I was seventeen. And after the mission in Kandahar was finished and I’d turned in my retirement papers, I pretty much roamed aimlessly for an entire year, living off my pension and traveling from place to place. And then one day I found myself in Surrender and I met Cooper MacKenzie. Before I knew what was happening, the people here became a kind of family, and I found the guilt of surviving didn’t weigh quite as heavily as it once had. I’m saying it doesn’t hurt to lean on someone every once in a while.”
Chapter Eight
Lane’s words ate at her while they worked to unhitch the boat and get it into the water. The rain jacket and boots hadn’t helped much. They were both soaked to the skin by the time they got into the boat and Lane started the engine.
She didn’t have the luxury of falling into a town and job that could become her family. Her brother was in prison, her mother was dead, and her dad had left for parts unknown when she’d barely been walking. Her neighbors didn’t know her and there were so many people in New York, no one glanced her way as she walked down crowded sidewalks. She was utterly alone. And maybe what Lane said was right. Maybe the dreams wouldn’t be so hard to bear if there was someone to hold her when she woke from them.
Lane steered the boat with expertise, and she had to admit she was glad he’d come along with her. She wouldn’t have gotten very far in unfamiliar territory in these kinds of conditions. Limbs swirled in the fast-moving brown water where the roads had once been.
“Look there,” she said, pointing through the trees some distance away. It was hard to be sure of the color, but a vehicle had been overturned by the water and only the tail end was visible.
“Let me see if I can get closer. There are too many trees to maneuver through.” Limbs scraped along the bottom of the boat, and Naya pulled her hood around her face to keep the rain out so her vision was clear.
“Could be it. I think it’s dark blue, but it could be black.”
“Close enough for us to check it out. The first hunting cabin is just up the way.”
He put the boat in reverse and headed back to the main road, and Naya dug in her bag for her extra cuffs and the homemade weapon she used to stop the skips who wanted to run.
“Whoa! What the hell is that?” Lane asked, looking very nervous all of a sudden.
Naya grinned and held up the modified sawed-off shotgun. “It shoots sandbags,” she explained. “It doesn’t hurt the skips too bad, but it doesn’t feel real good either when one hits them in the chest with that much force.”
“I can imagine. I’ll pretend I didn’t see that. I’m almost positive it’s not legal.”
“Sure it is. And pretty damned effective too. I only have to shoot once and it knocks them on their ass. Then all I have to do is slap on the cuffs.”
“We’re going to have to talk about this fascination you have with handcuffing people,” Lane said, arching a brow at her.
She felt her lips twitch and looked the other way so he wouldn’t see. She wanted to be mad about him invading her privacy. If she was mad, it’d be easier to walk away. To go back to being alone with a justified reason.
They almost missed the hunting cabin because of a tree that had been knocked over, blocking it from sight.
“Well, I don’t think he’s staying there.” Lane idled the boat a few feet away. “This is residual from the lake runoff. The cabin is in the flood zone, which is why no one uses it anymore. It’s just a one-room shack like most of the hunting cabins around here, so what you see is what you get.”
Water rushed through broken-out windows and the door hung on one hinge, banging back and forth against the cabin as the water pushed past it.
“Let’s head to the other one,” she said, starting to feel the prickle of unease at the base of her neck. She gripped her weapon tightly as Lane nodded and drove the boat farther up the road.
“We’ll have to get out here and walk to land level,” he said, docking by a tree. “The other cabin is on higher ground.”
Naya was glad Lane had loaned her the boots when she rolled out of the boat and into water that hit just below her knees. The temperature had dropped steadily and it didn’t help that her jeans were soaking wet and her hair plastered to her head, snaking beads of frigid water down the collar of her shirt.
Lane took her arm and they waded to higher ground. Their boots sucked at the mud and the slight incline was slippery enough that she lost her balance a couple of times and had to grab Lane’s shoulder to keep from falling.
“Stay low here,” he whispered. “The cabin is just over this rise and there isn’t a lot of cover if you come at it direct. We’ll split off in either direction and come at it from the sides.”
It was easy for her to picture him as a commander. His orders were precise and direct, and he had no doubt that they’d be followed to the letter. She nodded and watched his fingers as they counted to three and then gave the “go” sign. Naya crouched low and moved from tree to tree, using them as cover, though she wasn’t sure anyone would be able to see that far from the cabin because of the heaviness of the rain.
Her heart thudded in her chest as the little cabin came into view. He was in there. She knew it. Could feel it. No lights showed from the inside, but Coltraine would keep it dark if he suspected someone was outside trying to look in.
She’d be the most exposed on her run from where she was hidden to the side of the cabin. The rain made everything more difficult—more dangerous. She caught movement on the opposite side of the cabin and saw Lane move into position similar to how she was. And then he gave the signal to go and they both ran up to the sides of the cabin, staying low and against the wall once they got there.
There was no back door in a one-room hunting cabin, so they had no choice but to go through the front. She crept around the side of the house and met Lane at the front door, his weapon down at his side. Visions of the last time she’d stood in front of an unknown threat with someone she cared about flashed through her mind and she grabbed Lane’s arm, squeezing so he would know to let her go in first.
He looked down at where her hand rested and then back at her face and shook his head. She could see the compassion, but also the steel behind it. Lane would never let someone walk through the door in front of him. It wasn’t in his nature.
“On three,” he mouthed. “You go low. It’ll be fine, love.”
He started the count and on three his foot slammed into the door, knocking it back on its hinges. She went in low, her makeshift weapon ready to fire if need b
e. The first thing she noticed was the smell. Bitter sickness filled the air and she brought her arm over her nose and mouth to block it.
A low moan sounded from the corner of the room, and she and Lane both turned in unison and pointed their weapons at Jackson Coltraine. He was at least twenty pounds lighter then he’d been when he’d left New York a month ago. His face was gaunt and dirty and his clothes ragged. He lay huddled in the corner, and his eyes burned bright with fever.
“Just take me,” he said, holding out shaking hands in surrender. “I’m fucking sick. Get me a doctor. Take me in.”
“Jesus,” Lane said, his mouth tightening in a thin line. “That’s just pathetic. Let’s get him back to the boat and into town. He can spend the night in jail while we get Doctor MacKenzie to come out and take a look at him. It’d be a shame for him to die before he was able to go to trial.”
“It’d at least save some taxpayer money.”
“Are you two going to shut up and arrest me or not? I think I might need to throw up again.”
“I’ll let you take point here,” Naya said, elbowing Lane in the side. “You’ve got the badge.”
“You’ll owe me one.”
“That never turns out to be a bad thing,” she winked.
“I said arrest me already! This is police brutality, having to listen to you yammer on.”
“Shut up, Coltraine,” Lane said, pulling him to his feet and slapping cuffs on. “And if you throw up in my boat, you’re going to be sorry.”
Chapter Nine
Cooper handed her a cup of hot coffee. They’d brought Coltraine back into town and gotten him behind bars. Coltraine wasn’t someone to be trusted, and she didn’t want to see anyone hurt because they’d let their guard down. Coltrain might be sick and weak, but he was still dangerous.
She warmed her hands on the cup and didn’t care that her chattering teeth knocked against the cup every time she tried to take a drink. Thomas MacKenzie had already been in town helping his brothers make things more organized and assisting those who were without electricity, so they hadn’t had to wait long for him to make his way to the jail.
“You should get a shower and get warm,” Lane said, coming up beside her. He held his own cup of coffee and his clothes were as soaked as hers. “He’s not going anywhere for a while.”
“Do me a favor and go into the cell with Doctor MacKenzie. I don’t trust Coltraine.”
“I can do that. If you’ll go up and stop being so stubborn.” He handed her his keys so she could get inside. “Your lips are blue.”
Naya rolled her eyes and headed down the hall toward the back door and then up the stairs to the apartment. Her time in Surrender was running out. She shouldn’t feel such panic at the thought of leaving. This wasn’t her home. But Lane was here. And the thought of going home to her own empty apartment wasn’t at all appealing.
She’d spent her life on her own, never needing anyone. Her partner had been the closest thing she’d had to a mentor and friend, and he’d died right in front of her eyes. She always thought of his death as a kind of payback for letting herself care for him. Everyone close to her in her life had abandoned her. But the thought of Lane doing the same made her heart hurt. It was why it was best she suck it up and leave before she had to face the disappointment.
She showered quickly and changed into a pair of Lane’s sweats she’d found in his drawer. They were much too big for her, but they were warm, which was all she cared about. She brushed the tangles from her hair and left it to dry around her shoulders, and then went into the living room where her belongings were stashed.
She didn’t have much to pack, hardly anything at all, but she went through the process anyway to make her leaving more permanent in her mind. She’d set the bags on the table and gone to the kitchen to make more coffee when she heard the knob turn and Lane come in.
His eyes automatically went to her bags and then his heated gaze found her. He stared at her a few seconds, and she wondered what was going through his mind.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower. There’s sandwich stuff in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
She assumed that meant he wanted a sandwich too, so once he went into the bedroom, she started assembling ingredients on the counter. When he came back ten minutes later, Naya’s mouth went dry and her throat closed at the sight of him. He wore only a towel tied precariously at his hips.
The knife she’d picked up to cut the sandwiches clattered to the counter, and she forgot what she was doing—that she was trying to keep her distance.
“I—your sandwich. It’s ready.”
He smiled but didn’t say anything as he came toward her. Her nipples hardened against the soft texture of the sweatshirt she wore and her breasts felt heavy. Liquid desire gathered between her thighs and the pulse in her throat jumped as his hand reached out to touch the side of her face.
“Lane—”
“Ssh, sweetheart. Just kiss me.” His lips touched the corner of her mouth and then trailed lightly over her jawline.
“This is a mistake,” she managed to get out as his teeth tugged at the lobe of her ear. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Why would I make it easy?”
She didn’t have an answer to that question. She only knew he’d ruin her if he touched her again. Her hands came up and rested against his chest, the silky hairs tickling her palms, and she meant to push him away. But he moved in, trapping her against the counter so she felt his hard cock pressing against her stomach through the towel.
“Just a kiss, Naya.”
It seemed unreasonable to deny him such a simple request. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip once, making her tremble. She’d never trembled for any man. And then his lips touched hers and she was lost in the sensation. This man belonged to her—he was the part of her that had been missing all these years.
He pulled the sweatshirt over her head and jerked the sweatpants down her hips. The towel he wore fell to the floor, rasping over her skin as it went down, but his mouth continued to work its magic, slanting over her lips while his tongue danced erotically against hers.
His hands were gentle, the complete opposite of the need she felt building inside of him and the way his cock pressed against her stomach and branded her with its heat.
He surprised her by picking her up in his arms and carrying her to the bedroom, closing the door behind him with his foot. He laid her on the bed gently, following her down and settling between her thighs while he continued to kiss her. His hands were broad and rough as they made their way over her body, touching every inch of her skin, heating her from the inside out and driving her wild.
The change between them was palpable—panic inducing—and for a moment she wasn’t able to breathe as emotions swept through her. It would be easier if he took her as he had before, if it was hands and mouths and a fast coupling that could camouflage the feelings wreaking havoc on her heart and mind.
She needed to touch him. Her hands came up to his shoulders, testing the strength of them before skimming her nails lightly down to the center of his back. Her neck arched as his lips suckled at the sensitive flesh there and she opened her legs, wrapping them around his hips while he slid the rigid stalk of his cock between her bare folds, probing at her entrance.
He didn’t enter her—not yet. But he teased them both, heightening the pleasure and prolonging it while they memorized every inch of one another.
“Lane—” she moaned.
“Look what we have, Naya. Would you deny it? Would you run from it?”
She shook her head against the pillow. It was too late for her to deny anything. And she was no longer sure she had the strength to walk away, even as she resigned herself to getting her heart broken once more by someone she loved. Love. God, how had that happened?
“Please, Lane. Just love me.”
“I am,” he whispered. “I do.”
And then she felt him probing at her vagina just before he sli
d inside, his movements slow and easy—tender. She arched against him, accepting all of him, and she wrapped her arms around him in an embrace as he began to move. A slow rocking of flesh against flesh that prolonged the tension building inside of her, so it kept her hovering just on the edge of fulfillment.
“Look at me, Naya,” he said, grasping her hands and holding them on either side of her head.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and her whole body arched in anticipation, as if it were on the precipice ready to fall into oblivion. She looked into his eyes and fell deep into his gaze, and then her body clenched and her pussy convulsed as the orgasm rolled through her like a wave. His eyes went opaque and he jerked against her just before he followed her over the edge.
He rolled to his side and brought her with him so she was snuggled close. His heart pounded against her hand and their bodies were damp with sweat.
“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I loved you a year ago when I first met you.”
A joy so profound she wasn’t sure she could contain it all filled her, and all she could do was hold him tighter. She couldn’t speak. And she didn’t see the sadness in his eyes when she didn’t return the words.
Chapter Ten
The next morning came sooner than Lane wanted. During the night, he and Naya had made love multiple times, turning to each other over and over again. He’d thought she’d eventually say the words he needed to hear, but she never did. But it had felt like she loved him every time she touched him, loving him with her mouth and hands and body.
But as soon as the first hint of sunlight peeked through the bedroom window, it was as if the night had never happened. She’d rolled out of bed and dressed, stopping only long enough to make the coffee she seemed to need to survive.
He pulled on a pair of sweats and followed her to the kitchen, wondering how to say what he wanted without scaring her more than he already had.
