It had been an emotional few days, but mostly for Bailey. For the most part Hannah had been able to put aside her woes and be there to support her friend. It was different from when she’d been her father’s caregiver day in and day out. Yet, she felt like she could sleep forever. Was my heart tired? Tired of the struggle and tired of the uncertainty? Put that away, Hannah. This is not a time to be thinking of yourself. Bailey needs you. You can go home and sulk later.
When Hannah opened the door, her vibrant and positive friend was crying. She ran right over and wrapped her arms around her.
“I’m here Bailey. I’m here.”
Bailey shook as she continued to cry. Hannah wanted to do something, say something, but the best thing she could do was hold her. When she was ready, Bailey would talk. Patience was something she learned from taking care of her father. If you pushed too hard, they shut down.
After about ten minutes, Bailey wiped the remaining tears and told Hannah what was going on.
“They said the needle biopsy wasn’t successful, and I need to go in for a surgical biopsy.”
Oh no. Not Bailey.
Her heart ached for Bailey. Each test would bring forth a new one. Telling her it was going to be okay wasn’t fair to her. But she’d be there no matter what the results were. She honestly didn’t know anything more than Bailey.
“I’m staying here.”
Bailey pulled away and stood up quickly. “No, you’re not.”
Hannah was shocked. “Why?”
“Hannah. I am afraid of the results.”
“I know that. And that’s why I will be here with you for whatever they are. You can’t ask me to leave you like this.”
“We’re best friends; I need you to go,” Bailey said plainly.
“I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me here?”
Bailey came back to Hannah and held her hand. “You know I always spoke about finding my Mr. Right.”
“Yes. You will, so—”
“Please, I don’t want to think about that right now.”
She understood. Thinking about a future that was filled with uncertainty was difficult, and it was insensitive for her to have said that.
“You’re right. Sorry.”
“Please don’t say sorry to me. That will make me feel there’s bad news coming my way.”
Stop talking, Hannah. You’re only making it worse. She’s hurting.
“I need you to do something very important for me. Will you do it?”
She reached out and covered Bailey’s hand with her own. “God, yes. Anything, Bailey. What do you want me to do?”
“Go back to Savannah. You might not be willing to admit it, but your Mr. Right is waiting for you there.”
“I can’t leave—”
“You have to. If not for you, then for me. I’m angry and sad right now because I don’t know what the future holds. You have a chance at what I want. If you don’t at least try to make it work, then you’re wasting an opportunity I wish I had. So please, pack and go back. My biopsy is scheduled for a week from now. You can go and still be back here by then. But you need to do this.”
Can’t you ask me to donate blood or something?
Do hours and hours of research on biopsies and the possible results and treatment? I have missed having an active mind like I did at vet school. That’s one dream I know I’ll never fulfill.
I’m not ready to face him. What if he doesn’t want me? It hurts already. I’m not sure I can handle any more hurt right now.
“Hannah. Please.”
“I’ll go. But I’ll be back here, do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Good.” Hannah reached into her pocket and pulled out the small white box that she had picked up on her shopping adventure earlier. She put it on the table in front of Bailey.
She picked it up. “What’s this for?”
“I thought of you when I saw it.”
Bailey smiled and opened the box slowly. Then she pulled out a delicate silver necklace. There was a small heart and a round flat medallion engraved with the saying, “I am a better me because of you.” on it.
“Oh Hannah. That is so lovely. Thank you, and I feel the same about you.”
Once again the tears started flowing, Hannah’s and Bailey’s this time. As they hugged, they shared how much they had learned from each other. Eventually, they conceded it was a draw. But Hannah knew deep down, without a shadow of a doubt, she was the winner the day she met Bailey. If a person only has one friend in their life, and they are like Bailey, then they have everything they need.
“Love you, girlfriend.”
“Love you too, Hannah.”
Leaving her was going to be hard. Hannah wasn’t close to where she could begin to process the reality of a positive diagnosis. So, for now, she would return to Savannah. Will Bailey be all alone or will her friends, Whosie and Whatsit from work, be around? She hoped her friend wouldn’t hide from people—not like what I have done. It had made for some very lonely days at home.
Home. Facing Mark was going to be nearly impossible. She was still sorting out her feelings for him. If she sat back and closed her eyes, she felt more for him than simple friendship for the introspective man. Lust. Was it just lust? Yes, he was drop-dead gorgeous. The man was ripped. He was so serious most of the time, but when he smiled, his face transformed and there had been times where she’d been dazzled speechless. When he had held her in his arms those two times when everything had felt so overwhelming, she had felt so safe. Less . . . alone. It was easy to see how close he was to Don, even though they were so different in nature. Sissie had liked Mark too. Despite his deception, he was a good man. I think. Was I attracted to him because I had been alone for so long? Do I even know the real Mark Collins? Is he hiding other things? Other things that will make loving him impossible.
Oh no. No, no. no.
I love him. How was that possible over such a short period of time?
Loving a man who doesn’t love you back was worse than never finding love in the first place. He hadn’t tried to reach her since their night together. Something was more important to him than her. I want him to wake thinking of me and go to bed doing the same. And all I feel now is he doesn’t think of me at all.
She wanted to go anywhere but back to Savannah. But she made a promise to Bailey, and she was going to keep it.
Chapter Sixteen
Mark lay on his back beside the couch, halfway under the coffee table, waiting for Don to return from the store. It had been months since his back had given out like this. One minute he’d been fine, then he sneezed and the pain dropped him to the floor. How the hell can I bench over three hundred pounds and be taken out by a fucking sneeze?
He was grateful this was happening now and not in a few days when he’d be on assignment. He’d been able to hide it from the Navy for the last ten years, but all it would take is one incident recorded in a medical file, and he would be done. They’d never let him out on another assignment. If he was going to be pulled from the field and stuck behind a desk, he might as well retire. He had his twenty years in already but was far from ready to quit.
The first time this happened he’d been with Don, hiking on Mount Kilimanjaro and they were halfway to the summit. It wasn’t a place with immediate medical attention, and he learned quickly that resting was key to recovery. Rest and heat wraps were the only helpful things. Anything else would show in his drug test. Don understood his dilemma and hopped right in Mark’s Jeep and headed to town to get what he needed. I should’ve had him help me off the floor before I sent him to the store.
Mark heard what sounded like the French doors trying to be opened. Had Don forgotten his key? He didn’t hear his old Jeep coming up the driveway. Hell, he wouldn’t have had time to make it to town and back. What’s he doing here so soon?
He tried to get up, but the pain shot through him again. Mark couldn’t recall his back ever being this bad. Usually he could still wa
lk, although uncomfortably. This time it was locked up, the slightest movement felt like a knife in his muscles. It was totally debilitating. He had no choice but to lie there waiting for Don to come back. Mark thought about calling him a slow-ass when he finally saw him, but Don knew how damn unpleasant Mark was when he was in pain.
If he wasn’t tense before, that changed quickly when he heard muffled voices that weren’t speaking in English. It sounded as though they were near the French doors. Why are they trying to get into my apartment instead of the one upstairs? Are they drunk or lost—these guys are no friends of mine. A moment later he heard the glass breaking and the lock being turned. Shit. That’s not Don. And God, I hope Don doesn’t walk in when they’re here. I have no idea what’s about to go down and Don being here is only going to be distracting. I know he can handle himself, but if these guys mean business, he’s not prepared to do what needs to be done.
Mark closed his eyes to concentrate on everything he heard. The creaking of the floor said they still were on the other side of the house. He tried pulling himself up again, but it was no use. If he couldn’t go on the offensive, he needed to consider a defensive plan. He carefully pulled himself so the couch would shield him. He wasn’t hiding, but lining himself for action. At this angle, no one would be approaching from behind. As long as they stayed where he could see them, he remained in control of the situation.
They spoke boldly as though they believed no one in the house understood what they were saying. That’s their first mistake. Never underestimate your enemy. But I’ve spent too many years overseas, and it’s almost a second language to me. So keep talking. Let’s hear your brilliant plan.
“I’m sure they’re gone,” one man said from the kitchen.
“Better if they are not here, I think,” said the other in the hall. “It’ll save us the trouble of coming back to kill them later.”
That turned his blood cold. One voice sounded all-too familiar as he’d been listening to it on the recordings and phone conversations for two weeks. But who is the tenant talking to? He knew there were at least two here in the downstairs apartment, but were there more?
I should’ve known there was more than one person. Fuck. It explains why I thought he never slept. Mark was pissed at himself. He’d entered that apartment, trusting Hannah believed there was only one person. She was wrong, but he’d been foolish trusting unverified information.
This is what happens when you let yourself get distracted by a woman. You lose focus. This mistake could cost me my life, but I’ll be damn if it’s going to cost Don his. Or even, my sweet Hannah’s. Not mine. She couldn’t be mine. This is not her fault. All she did was show me that she wanted me. I was the fucking idiot who let her believe “we” were a possibility. And not only have I hurt her, but I may have jeopardized her life. I’ll never make this mistake again.
He pulled his cell phone out and texted Johnson. “911. Made. Armed.” He knew the team would come, but he wasn’t sure if they would make it in time. If they’re not here to save my ass, they damn well better get here to save Don’s.
He heard them walking through the apartment, flipping over things. They were searching, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they found the surveillance equipment he’d set up in the empty bedroom. He hadn’t locked it because he wasn’t going anywhere. He never thought his back would give out at the same time the fucking assholes from upstairs decided to pay him a visit. He knew if they had any doubts before, it was going to be over soon. What had made them check today? He knew what his next move would be if the shoes were on the other foot. He needed to prepare for the worst. Destroy the evidence then eliminate the witnesses.
“Do you see? I told you. This man is not here for construction. He is an American infidel. He’s been watching us.”
The sound of the equipment being smashed on the floor echoed throughout the apartment. The recordings were backed up on satellite, so he hadn’t lost anything, but that meant what was going down next wouldn’t be on tape. Grabbing his cell phone, he prepared to start recording. There was only so long it would record before stopping, so he needed to wait until he could record whatever evidence the Navy would need, in case Mark wasn’t around to provide a report himself.
When the crashing stopped, he knew it wouldn’t be long before they were near him.
Mark tried to figure out exactly how many people had entered. He was sure of two, but if there were more, he’d take out what he could before they got him.
Listening closely, he heard a sound that confirmed his fears. The click of someone checking ammo and removing the safety on their guns. They meant business, but so did he.
“Now we have to kill them,” said the unfamiliar voice, getting closer to the living room.
Mark hit record on his phone. This they will need to know.
“We had to kill them anyway. They’ve seen and heard what we’re doing,” the tenant replied.
“And what about the woman, the landlady? Does she know anything?”
“She brought these men here and said they were contractors. She set us up,” said the tenant from the other side of the couch.
“But I have enjoyed her so much,” said the second man, joining the other beside the couch.
“You risked everything with your foolishness. Your lack of control is disgusting. You thought nothing of the mission and only of your flesh. You’re weak and have brought this problem to us all.”
What the fuck are they talking about? Enjoyed her so much? Lack of control? Hannah hadn’t said anything about someone hurting her. They are not making any sense. And who are we all? How many more are there?
“Then she dies too.”
“Yes,” the tenant replied. “Everyone who has seen my face must die. Understood?”
That is not going to happen, not while I’m still breathing. Mark shifted his body, reaching for his M1911, tucked in the back of his pants. Even the slightest movement of his back was excruciating, but he didn’t care if the muscles ripped in two and he never walked again, he wasn’t going to let them hurt Hannah.
Mark slowly moved his gun hand to rest beside the leg of the couch, so the gun wasn’t visible. Once he knew who he was dealing with, those fuckheads were going to be sorry they threatened Hannah.
He knew he was supposed to take them in for questioning. There was one hell of an internal battle going on. Does duty trump love?
It was a punch in the gut.
Fuck, no.
He loved her.
Not the greatest time to come to this conclusion.
These men intended to kill him. That didn’t scare him half as much as the feelings he felt for Hannah. But no matter what he felt, it didn’t change who he was. Non sibi sed patriae – Not for self, but country. An old Naval motto Vice Admiral Hamden often said. It had stuck with his whole unit, and he used it with his team too. In a few days, he should be leaving on assignment. Each one with the same risk. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t ask her to live that way. With fear, concern, and possible future heartbreak.
The footsteps were very close now. Focus. You only get one chance at this. Don’t fuck it up.
As one of them walked by the couch, he saw him.
“Fuck, the infidel has been here the whole time!”
Mark didn’t move and kept his eyes closed. He didn’t need to see as much as he needed to sense the motion in the room. His hand was on the gun, and he was ready, but the timing needed to be right. One mistake and the gun that was pointed at him would fire.
“Is he dead?”
The one closest to him kicked his leg.
Playing dead wouldn’t work as he knew one would check his pulse and the gig would be up. That meant he’d be shot before removing the threat. Not happening. He needed to protect Hannah. She wasn’t due today, but Mark wasn’t going to take the chance.
Mark pretended as though he’d been passed out and was just coming to. “Hello, I need help. Can you call an ambulance?” He waited long enough
before asking, “Can you speak English? Help. I need help.” He knew they understood, but they still hadn’t caught on that it was a two-way street. Stall a little longer until they are both in the line of fire. Come on. A few more feet to the left and you’ll be all mine.
“He cannot understand us,” said the first. “We can leave him today. We can leave and plan how to dispose of them all.”
“At best we are trespassers for entering an apartment other than our own, at worst we are caught carrying guns. We must move now. We cannot allow anyone to know what we were doing here. The money transactions will bring many questions if it is out in the open. We have worked too hard to buy the governmental officials. We cannot afford a setback. He dies now. And as the others return, they die too.”
“What about all the men that were here over the weekend? They’re gone. What if they talk?”
“They saw nothing. Look at this man. Look at his eyes. He is dangerous. The others were not. We kill him now.”
As long as they were arguing about what to do, he knew no one would fire. Once they agreed, he would need to act quickly. He also wanted to find out what the hell they meant by paying off government officials. He needed to tread lightly with this information. At least he had it recorded on his phone, but which officials hadn’t been divulged. And the bigger issue was why? Was it a cover-up or information? Whatever it was, they were willing to kill to keep it quiet. His gut had been right from the beginning. He should’ve acted more aggressively and brought his team in immediately. Even if you kill me, you’re not going to succeed with whatever you have planned. My men will be here any minute. But you’re not going to be alive to meet them.
Mark heard a car pulling up the driveway. He couldn’t tell if it was the Jeep or not. It could be Don. I’m not sure he would’ve taken the gun I gave him to town. Even if he did, I’m sure he’s not prepared to defend his life so unexpectedly. He got a sick feeling. One he hadn’t thought of until now. Oh God. If it’s not Don, could it be Hannah? Surely not. She wasn’t due back today. His back muscles tightened again in pain. I can’t let them hurt her.
Southern Exposure (Southern Desires Series Book 2) Page 16
