by Joey W. Hill
“It doesn’t work that way,” he said. “It’s me she looks for.”
“Because you’re the only one who’s consistently visited her. If—”
She stopped. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d become more focused on the road, his fingers tightening on the wheel, despite the fact there was no traffic. Though he still had his arm around her, it was like she was leaning against a board. If there was one thing she recognized, it was a male shifting into defensive mode.
“You know her better than I do,” she said lightly. “It’s just a thought. Would you like to listen to some music?”
“Yeah, sure.” His shoulders eased a fraction. Straightening, she moved back to her side of the truck to fiddle with dials, scrolling through his satellite radio options until she found a station that played a good mix of contemporary, alternative and oldies. Slipping her feet out of her canvas sneakers, she drew them up on the seat. She linked her fingers over them and glanced out the window at the passing scenery. The silence drew out, but she decided to let him be the one to break it, since the wheels of his mind were obviously creating a cacophony in his head.
“Okay, let me have it,” he said at last. “I know you’re thinking something I’d rather not hear.”
“It’s really none of my business, is it?”
“You’re kidding, right?” At her blank look, he gave a half laugh. There was a trace of irritation in it, but something else as well. “Janet, I haven’t had a relationship since I left the SEALs. Hell, I’ve barely had sex with anything other than myself since then. I’m taking you camping. I’m introducing you to the wives of guys I’ve served with. I’m letting you into my life because I want you to be a part of it, and not just as a passing thing. Maybe I’m scaring the shit out of you, saying something like this when we’ve been together less than a couple weeks, but in my mind it’s been a lot longer. I—”
“You don’t scare me, Max Ackerman.” She was glad to see the rueful tug of his lips in response. Reaching across the seat, he closed his hand on hers, a firm grip. Then he released her.
“All right. If we’re going to have our first fight, let’s make it a memorable one. Spit it out, woman.”
She nodded. “I mentioned Amanda to Rachel. Not just her condition, which I don’t know a great deal about, but also about the role you play in her life. I didn’t do it to betray your trust. I spoke to her in confidence, as a medical professional, since she has access to a lot of doctors at the hospital where she does PT.”
He shook his head. “I don’t worry about that with you, Janet. I know you’re discreet, and I also know Rachel. She’s top quality in that department.”
“Yes, she is.” Janet paused. “She was told it’s very common for the primary caregiver to convince themselves that no one else can do what they’re doing, for fear that the person they love will not get every bit of the care they deserve. Yes, Amanda reacts badly if she doesn’t see you every few days, but then again, other than you, it sounds like she doesn’t see anyone else from the outside. Gayle mentioned the way the SEALs support one another. I noticed how you and Dale have a very similar demeanor, and I’ll bet other SEALs carry that same feel to them. You’re like an intense extended family. Wherever Amanda is in her head, I wonder if she would pick up on that intuitively.”
She pressed her lips together, not seeing any change in his expression, but he was at least listening. “I don’t expect you’d ever want to stay away from her longer than a week or two, but having the flexibility to do so would let you have a vacation, give yourself a breather. And you’d be an even better caregiver for her as a result.” She reached out now, touched his arm, briefly drawing the gray eyes to hers. “You’re wonderful with her, but it tears your heart out, Max. I can see it. You’ve put yourself on a short tether, perhaps too short. It’s also kept your focus on her situation, and the cause of it, in a way that may not be healthy. You’ve put your life on hold.”
The last two sentences snapped them back into sticky territory. His shoulders and mouth tightened. “No,” he said. “That focus is going to stay front and center until it’s settled.”
“Because it’s the one thing you can change about what happened? You can punish those who did it? Your mother won’t be less gone, your sister—”
“Dead,” he ground out. “She’s not gone, Janet. Not like she fucking went to Atlantic City or on a trip to see relatives. She’s dead, beaten to death by three guys because she wouldn’t move out of the way and let them rape her daughter.”
“And your single-minded determination to kill all of them may make you just as dead when all is said and done.” Janet refused to back down. “Where does that leave Amanda then? Where does it leave me? You’ve invited me into your life. ‘Hey, look at me, I’m this amazing guy who might be everything you’d ever want’. But because you have this fucking code of honor, I might get to identify your corpse before I ever pick out curtains with you.”
She’d proceeded calmly, rationally, but his anger unleashed the same in her, a barb festering from the conversation with Gayle, Dale’s visit in Max’s kitchen, what she herself was feeling about the man himself. He’d been so straightforward. I’m letting you into my life because I want you to be a part of it. Most men shied away from that, or if they said it, they hadn’t really thought it through, a passion-of-the-moment kind of thing. She’d been unbalanced by it, the fact she knew he meant it, had likely considered it from every angle. But the real shock was knowing how much she wanted the same thing. He hadn’t been with a woman, more than a one-night stand, for several years. She hadn’t had a relationship since getting away from Jorge.
“That’s the deal with me,” he responded, fire in his eyes, a hard set to his jaw. “I laid it out there for you. I can’t change it, and I didn’t take you for the kind of woman who would run from something like that.”
“Stop the truck.” The ice in her voice was pure Mistress, pure ball-busting admin of Matt Kensington. Max gave her a look. She knew he wasn’t any more afraid of her than she was of him, but he did respect her. Whatever he heard in her tone had him pulling off the highway, on to a side road that made a straight shot into the endless flatlands, going all the way to the horizon and disappearing.
Pushing open her door, she slid to the ground. She collected her purse, her water bottle and an opened bag of crunchy Cheetos that she’d carefully rolled closed to keep them fresh. He’d bought it for her at a gas station on the way to Gayle’s. She started to walk.
She could sense him watching her, probably trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. She had no idea herself.
Separated from the side road by a split rail fence, the land to her left looked like a field that might be tilled for some purpose at another time of year, or was being left fallow for this season. The early morning sun wasn’t hot, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She needed to walk.
She’d gone perhaps a half mile before she thought to stop, look back at the truck. She expected to see him leaning against it, or still behind the wheel, keeping tabs on her progress, prepared to come pick her up when she was ready. Instead, he was about twenty paces behind her. So caught in her whirl of thoughts, she hadn’t heard him. He wasn’t letting her get out of his immediate range in this unfamiliar area. He was watching after her, even as he gave her space.
Fuck, she was so in love with the fucking idiot.
At her look, he lifted a shoulder. “You like keeping men on a short tether. I was just obliging.”
She stared at him. Something eased in her stomach, and she shook her head. “Ass.”
“Bitch.” But the tone of his voice made it a warm caress. He tilted his head toward the split rail fence. “I think this is someone’s long-ass driveway. Which means we’re trespassing. Want to sit on the fence until they call the cops?”
“Yes. But I don’t want to be on the fence with you. Metaphorically.”
“I got that. I get a lot of things with you. It’s like being around Dale a
nd the others. I almost knew the things you were going to say before you said them, but they weren’t things I wanted to hear.”
“I got that,” she responded in kind, and now it was his turn to smile. When he held out his hand, she closed the gap between them.
Lifting her by the waist to sit on one of the rails, he leaned on the post next to it. “I’ll stay on the ground. I’m pretty sure my heavy ass would break it, and then they really would call the cops.”
“Yeah, you need to work on that one hundred percent muscle mass. It’s getting out of hand. I think it’s crept into your brain.”
He touched her face. “I have thought about it,” he said quietly. “My whole life revolves around what Amanda needs, Janet, and that’s the way it should be. But this was a man who raped a teenager and beat a woman to death, and he’s still out there. What kind of man am I, if I don’t do my damnedest to make sure he doesn’t do it to anyone else’s mother or sister?”
“Dale said he and the others would help.”
Maybe one of them didn’t have so much to lose—a sister relying on him, or a woman in love with him. She didn’t say it, knowing how unlikely and unfair that was, but the twitch in his jaw told her he probably understood where her mind was going on it.
“What I’m doing is against the law, Janet. I’m not pulling any of them into that beyond intel, no matter how much they say they don’t care about the risks. This blood debt is mine to pay.”
She put her hand on his, holding his gaze. “You invited me into your life, Max. Do you understand what that will do to me, if something happens to you? The only relationship I’ve had outside the club sessions is a drug dealer who kidnapped me when I was in my teens.”
It was the first time she’d told him so baldly. It wasn’t just during the time he’d known her that she hadn’t had a real date. His gray eyes digested it, showing the brief surprise, then a more emotional reaction. His jaw tightened, even as his hand closed over hers.
“I have to finish it, Janet. It’s not up for any kind of debate. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you with that, but I have to be honest about it. I don’t want to lose you over it, Christ, I don’t.” She saw the anguish rise in his gaze. “Even if you think it’s too soon, I mean it. I’m in love with you, head over heels, whatever you want to call it. Wherever you are during the day, I feel this connection between us, a pull, like a…”
“Tether?” she suggested. His eyes crinkled at the corners.
“If you like.” He took a breath. “But you’re right. It’s not fair. If you need to end it between us, so you don’t get in any deeper, you say the word. I’ll turn around and take you home right now. It’ll rip my fucking heart out of my chest, but I’ll leave you alone until it’s done. If you still want me when it’s over…”
If he was around when it was over. She caught his wrist, held it tight in her grip. “What I’m worrying about is something different, Max. I need you to hear me.”
He twisted his wrist gently, catching her fingers in his. “I hear everything you say, Mistress. You know that. I just don’t always obey.”
She grimaced at his wry expression, suppressing the desire to box his ears. “Getting away from Jorge was extremely personal to me. However, while I was planning for it, even doing it…it was like I was an entirely different person, because the environment, the focus, it was all about that goal. Your life is more than that now. K&A, Dale, Amanda…me.”
“I know that.”
She shook her head. “But do you think about how it makes you different? I expect when you did missions, there was a certain detachment. Even when you went after the first two men, you were still close enough to that part of your life that you probably shifted into the protocol you’d been trained to follow. It kept you detached, focused. In control. But think about all the time that’s passed since then. Despite your appalling lack of home décor, you’re living in a different world now. This is your life, not a mission environment.”
His gaze became thoughtful. “You think I’m too close to this. I’ve made it too personal, and I could make mistakes.”
“Yes,” she said bluntly. “I understand you feel you have to go after him. But promise me you’ll think about that.”
He nodded. “I will. I promise.”
He would, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing about his course of action, only how he approached it. But maybe that would help keep him alive. She had to hold on to that. Seeing a person who’d been violently murdered was something that never left the mind, and it was far too easy to put Max’s vacant staring eyes, his bloody face, on Jorge’s body. She closed her eyes, folded her hands in her lap, even as she continued to lean against Max to keep herself balanced on the rail.
“Promise me you’ll also think about what I suggested, about Amanda. If you feel you must do this and something does happen, it’s not a bad idea to make sure there are others in Amanda’s life to take up the slack. She made a connection with me. I’d be happy to be one of those…” Her voice cracked, thinking of seeing those gray eyes in Amanda’s face, but never again in Max’s. She stiffened as he lifted a hand to touch her. “Don’t,” she said sharply.
He put the hand down, his face now expressionless. She’d hurt him, but he was hurting her. It was only fair.
“But I think it needs to be a handful of people. It might be better overall for her. Also, even if nothing happens to you…sharing the load helps share the pain.”
They studied each other silently. “Do you want me to take you home?” he asked at last.
“No.” She looked down at where her hip pressed against his side. Despite not wanting him to touch her face, her body had betrayed her true desires, maintaining that contact. Sighing, she slid her fingertips down a fold of his shirt, feeling the heat and solidity of the man beneath. “There’s nothing more pointless than running away from someone because you think they’re going to break your heart.”
He closed his fingers over hers, his thumb passing over her wrist. It was a tentative touch for both of them, full of things unsaid. “I’m going to try like hell not to do that, Janet. I promise.”
She nodded, tracing his knuckles. A few more moments passed between them, then he reached out with the other hand, tapping the opening of her purse where the bag of Cheetos was visible. “Care to share some of those?”
Janet gave him a look of pained amusement. “Do you never stop thinking with your stomach?”
“I’m a growing boy, and they’re right there and everything.”
The air had shifted between them, the anger gone. What would be, would be. She rolled her eyes, pulled the bag out and withdrew one of the crunchy pieces, lifting it to his mouth. As he took it, he put his lips on her fingers, drawing them in. His hand closed around her wrist so that even when he let them go, he held on to her.
“You turned my fingers orange,” she accused, giving him a frown. He licked the powder off, then wiped her fingers on his T-shirt. She snorted at that, tried to pull away, but he held her, his other arm sliding around her waist to ensure she didn’t pull back too vigorously and topple off the fence. It was literally impossible to stay furious with the man.
“I’ve seen some of the Mistresses in the club do that,” he said, nodding to the bag. “Feed a collared slave at their feet. You’ve done it a couple times.”
“Yes. It’s very moving, to have a man take food from your hand. Wine from your mouth.” Retrieving the bottle of water, she took a drink of it, then curved her other hand around the back of his neck, bringing him to her lips. Mouth-to-mouth intimacy wasn’t something she encouraged with her club hookups, but she did well enough now to transfer the water to his mouth without spillage and still get a nice taste of Max and the lingering flavor of the Cheetos.
He curled his fingers into her hips, pulling her closer to him, and then he abandoned the reserve of the past few moments. He took her off the fence, hiking her up his body so her legs wrapped over his hips and he had her propped against th
e post to brace them both. The functional exchange of food and drink became a deep, needy kiss, a reminder they hadn’t had carnal knowledge of one another since they left New Orleans, an interminable amount of time. He made the kiss demanding and more than a little possessive, as if he was verifying his claim on her despite the near miss. In return she was a little angry, biting at his mouth, digging her nails into the bare skin beneath his collar.
He didn’t retreat from it an inch, taking everything she inflicted and giving her back his desire, pushing himself firmly against her core. When he finally pulled back, his gray eyes were molten.
“We need to get to that campsite,” he said.
They hadn’t made any decisions or resolved anything, at least not in words, but the kiss was the answer. Frustrated, stubborn, passionate and yearning all at once. Breaking it off with him wasn’t going to be an option for her. Not anymore. It might nearly kill her, losing him, but it was as Gayle said. There was a point past which it was no longer on the table. Somehow, they’d already passed that point.
* * * * *
When they reached the park, Max shouldered a backpack, which contained their tent as well as a few other items they’d need for their overnight, and hoisted a cooler on his shoulder. Then he took her hand with his free one. In that manner, she experienced her first hiking-to-a-campsite experience. She looked over her shoulder toward the more populated area, which also included a bathhouse, but he just gave her that charming smile and told her being at a more remote location would outweigh the perk of a communal shower.
She wasn’t so sure about that, but the walk was beautiful, taking them across several bridges and open natural areas. It wasn’t overly strenuous, and yet he refused to let her carry anything except the small tote containing her toiletries and a change of clothes. “Just enjoy the scenery, Mistress,” he said, giving her a wink. Since there were times when the trail narrowed to the point that he preceded her, she couldn’t argue with the advice. Watching him bear the cooler on his broad shoulder, the shift of thigh and ass muscles under his jeans as he navigated the terrain, wasn’t a hardship at all, though it made her even more eager for them to get to their campsite.
