She headed out of the room, and Essie grabbed her things. They turned off the lights, and when they got outside, she said goodbye.
“Have a good night, Slayer. It was nice meeting you.” She started to turn, even though some deep, inner desire inside of her wished she could take a chance, but her anxiety and fears still ruled her life. Then she felt the hand on her arm.
“I was given a direct order to walk you home, ma’am. I intend to do just that,” he said and guided her around the house and then across the way to the gift shop.
“Damn, it is dark back here. There should be a light out here. Anyone could pop out and grab you,” he told her, sounding very upset.
“It’s okay. I’m usually home before it’s this dark, and besides, no one would be hanging around the gift shop late at night and down the side walkway.”
“Sure they could be. Especially if they caught sight of you, a petite, pretty young thing walking alone. Someone could grab you, force you into your apartment, or try to take you.”
She swallowed hard. She could feel how big his hand was, and as if he realized he was holding her firmly, he released her arm and placed his hand on her hip with his arm against her back gently. She exhaled.
“I’m okay, Slayer,” she said, and as they got around the corner, something jumped out. She yelled and turned into his arms. He pulled her back, and they both heard the loud whine of a cat.
She gripped his shirt, and he held her snugly in his arms. She looked up at him. They locked gazes, and she was speechless, shaking, feeling like an idiot. Would he reprimand her some more? Would he say I told you so? What the hell would he say to her?
“You okay?” he whispered, then reached up and stroked her hair. She nodded. Like some mute, stunned by this sex god, she nodded. Duh.
She couldn’t seem to say anything, and then he looked at her lips. She feared he might kiss her, and then hoped he would. She was curious as to what it would feel like, and right before his lips touched hers, she pushed him away and turned.
She walked backward and nearly tripped over her own bags she’d dropped at the sound and sight of the cat jumping across the way. Slayer grabbed her waist and pulled her close again.
“Whoa, slow down. I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her and she shook her head.
“I…I think you should go. Now. Thanks for walking me.” She stepped back, and he released her.
“I’ll see you again, I hope.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What if I want to see you again?”
“You can’t. I’m sorry, Slayer, but I don’t date. I definitely don’t sleep around, and, well, I don’t want any trouble. Good night,” she said and grabbed her bags, unlocked her door, glanced at him one more time, seeing his shocked expression turn to one of confusion as she closed the door and shook her head. She leaned her head back against it after locking the door and the dead bolt she’d had installed.
“Why can’t I stop being so afraid of every man, every soldier I meet? My God, he is fierce. Likable and fierce. An instant attraction, just like with Ford, Max, Turbo, and Cobra. Jesus, I’m losing my mind. My God, it has to be that I’m a virgin. There’s no other explanation unless I have a death wish. Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone because no one can be trusted.”
* * * *
“Where were you? We thought you’d make it home for dinner?” Turbo asked Slayer as he entered the house. It was after midnight.
“I got caught up in something,” Slayer replied and dropped his large duffel bags onto the kitchen floor.
“Got caught up in something or someone?” Max asked.
“Does it matter? I’m back,” Slayer told them.
He walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. His cousins all gathered around the kitchen.
“You okay? No injuries?” Ford asked.
“I’m good,” he said and didn’t bother to tell them about the stitches from the knife wound to his side because it was just a slash—a close call. It was healed, and now an additional scar decorated his body. It was one of many.
He took a few sips of water and then exhaled. He looked around the large kitchen, then at his cousins. He focused on getting back to them, to here, and now that he was here, he didn’t get that complete feeling he hoped he had. There was never a feeling of home, of belonging. He knew the reason why. Weiller was gone. His brother, his best friend, his twin.
“Well, we’re glad that you’re back. Your bed is all set and ready. Maybe later in the day we can sit down and go over a few things,” Cobra said to him. He was the same age as Slayer. Thirty-six, and just about the same height, six feet three. He nodded and then leaned back in the chair and looked at his cousins.
“So, what have the rest of you been up to?” Slayer asked them.
“Nothing too crazy. Ford has been working on the stocks, and we made a few small investments locally. We can go over those with you this week,” Turbo told him.
“We’ve been helping out Magnum at the dojo. Each of us helps instruct a few self-defense classes and some boxing instruction,” Ford said.
He gave a nod. “Magnum is probably loving that. His place gets crowded, doesn’t it?” he asked and took another sip of water.
“He expanded last year, has a second floor in the place, and runs classes from five a.m. to nine p.m. There are a lot of guys we all know going there now, keeping sharp, and some active duty needing new training. Magnum could use you for some of the more intense training that’s up to date. He mentioned that you should stop in when you got back,” Turbo told him.
He wasn’t sure about that. He was a different person when he was battling, fighting, grappling, and working on the mats. His intensity could be lethal if he lost focus.
“Hey, why don’t we let him get some rest, and over the next few days we can go over some stuff and have him check out the dojo. I’m sure Magnum and a bunch of the guys will be thrilled to see you,” Cobra stated.
Max stood up first.
“It’s good to see you, Slayer. I’m glad you’re home,” he said, and Slayer could tell his cousin was relieved, but he hadn’t said much. Not like the others did. Max was just as affected by Weiller’s death as each of them, and maybe a little more so because Max and Weiller served in the same command for years. He gave Max a nod and then one by one they started to head to bed, leaving Slayer, Cobra, and Ford.
“Breakfast is at six tomorrow. I have an eight o’clock class I’m teaching and tomorrow morning is my morning to make breakfast,” Ford told him and then stood up.
“I’ll jump right in on the schedule.”
Cobra patted his shoulder and Slayer tensed. It didn’t go unnoticed. It was a normal reaction of Slayer’s to being touched by anyone. Cobra gave his shoulder a squeeze and a firm expression. “You’re home now. It’s a safe place, so remember that,” he stated firmly, as a commander would. Cobra was smart, hell, all his cousins were, and they knew exactly what Slayer was all about. A loner, a man wanting to keep to himself and not engage in connections. They were the only ones he trusted and counted on, and was even having difficulty with that lately because of his emotions and the loss he felt.
They left the room, and he was all alone. Their home was a beautiful place. A nice retreat away from other neighbors and near the beach. With the open windows, he could hear the sounds of the ocean, yet couldn’t see it through the windows with all the high grasses. It was a little bit of a trek down the path, then along a private path, but when the ocean and beach came into view, it was breathtaking.
He thought about tonight. About seeing Helen, Kyle’s mom. He always got so nervous and felt a pit in his stomach and a sensation wondering why he lived and why Kyle, why Weiller and so many others, died. What was it about him that kept him alive? When would his day come? Did he even care anymore? This last job was intense, to say the least. The intel was shit, and he had to improvise, got caught in a shit of trouble, and lost
his ride, then had to backtrack while remaining undetected, and it cost him a week’s time. By the time he got to a safe zone to make a radio call, they couldn’t send anyone back out for him for two weeks. Two fucking weeks he was stuck in the fucking desert, fending off thieves and enemy soldiers. All alone, and nothing to think about but death, and wonder when his time would come. When he got out, he headed to the base to be debriefed and got the knife wound checked out. He left the base and felt empty. Like he didn’t care if he returned or not. It was the first time he’d felt the strong sensation that maybe it was time to retire.
He exhaled. He had even felt nervous, hell, guilty going to Helen’s, to see her like he always did when returning from a mission. She worried about him, and he appreciated that. Especially because he didn’t talk to his own mom or dad. He talked to his aunt and uncles, though, and was certain he would see them in the next couple of weeks. They always invited the guys and him over for dinner whenever Slayer returned from a tour or mission.
He got up, turned off the lights, and grabbed his things. His mind still on the feelings he had coming home this time. From the way this mission went down, to the stab wound, the way he felt leaving the base and the command, to his visit with Helen and coming home, he knew things were changing. Hell, he was shocked to meet Essie and react the way he did.
He threw his stuff onto the floor, knowing tomorrow he would need to organize his shit and do a few loads of wash. He grabbed what he needed for a shower, liking that he had his own space, his own room, shower, and privacy. He thought of Essie again, and it bothered him. Sort of pissed him off. He just met the fucking woman, a small, feminine little thing with a kick ass body and a beautiful smile and—
He shook his head and turned on the shower, got undressed, and ran his hand along the nasty scar. It was super red and sore. He got into the shower and hung his head, letting the water beat off his body. He was tired, achy, and could use a week of sleep, but that wouldn’t happen. He’d crash tonight from exhaustion, but then the nightmares would start, the fear would overpower his ability to just relax and rest, and he would fall back into the routine of being a soldier and sucking it all up. He thought of Essie once again. Of how it felt to meet her and feel an instant attraction. How when she licked her lips his cock hardened, and how hard she tried to ignore the attraction, yet still leaned into him. She felt good in his arms, against his side, his chest, and he felt triumphantly guilty when that big black cat jumped across the way a few feet in front of them, and she turned right into his embrace and grabbed on to him as if knowing he would protect her.
It fucked with his head, hell, with his body. Any other woman would have been offering him to come inside, and he would have been balls-deep in her cunt. He didn’t get that scenario with her. In fact, he felt below her. Too old, too fucked up, too scarred for someone so young, sweet, and perfect. But goddamn was she special. He wondered what his cousins would think of her, and it shocked him.
“What the fuck?” he said aloud, grabbed the shampoo, and tried to push those thoughts from his head. That shit was years ago, hell, back when they were fucking crazy and on top of their world. They never took one woman together the whole lot of them, but they did take a few on two or three at a time, and it was pretty good. It was done out of that need to feel like they could let go and were still protected, had men to watch their backs as they sought the need for release. He never really let go. In fact, it had been a while since he’d had sex. When he did, it was meaningless. A way to ease an ache for him and for her. A fellow soldier, a nurse who didn’t want any attachments but just a need for sex and to let go. It worked out, but it meant nothing.
Meanwhile, tonight, he’d just met Essie and had almost kissed her. She panicked. He smirked. She fucking panicked big time. He forgot how big he was, how aggressive and hard he was. The poor thing probably couldn’t handle a man like him. He was fucking dreaming thinking she would even want a washed up old soldier like him. He shook the thoughts from his head and tried to finish showering so he could go to bed. Maybe thoughts of Essie would take away the bad thoughts that surfaced the moment his head hit the pillow? Maybe?
Chapter Three
“I know, Mom. I wish I could come by to see you and Dad, but I’m scared to take the chance,” Essie said to her mother over the phone. Essie looked out at the boats in the marina. She used one of those burner phones and prayed it was enough to protect her parents and her.
“We miss you, and we worry so much, Essie. Uncle Tom and Aunt Sue say they haven’t seen or heard from you either,” her dad said.
“It’s precaution, Dad. I can’t take the chance of him finding me by screwing up. Plus, when he does locate me, I don’t exactly want to put you and Mom, or Uncle Tom and Aunt Sue, in the line of danger.”
“He isn’t going to find you. The police and detectives are looking for him.”
“You don’t know that, Dad. They didn’t do shit to help protect me.”
“They’ve called several times looking for you.”
“The police?” she asked and gripped the phone. Instantly, she felt the pain in her chest and an ache in her stomach.
“They say they have more information on Blade. That they’ve connected to his old commander in the military.”
“Really? You mean the one he threatened to kill, went after, and wound up getting dishonorably discharged because of?” she asked, her voice raised.
“Honey, we’re not the enemy. I know you’re scared. If I was a better father—”
“No. Don’t do that to me. Don’t start with that crap, Dad. I know you love me, but you cannot protect me from a man like Blade. You know the deal. He’s Special Forces. Let’s not discuss it, and don’t you dare tell those cops or the detectives where I am, or they’ll lead Blade right to me.”
“My God,” he said, and then she heard her mom’s voice.
“Baby, we miss you so much, and I pray this is over soon, and they find him.”
Essie heard the alarm go off.
“I need to go. Time’s up. Love you both,” she said.
“Love you, too,” her parents both said, and Essie disconnected the call. The sound of the alarm on her other cell phone continued to beep. She hated the sound. The sound embedded itself in her head as the tears fell, and she looked out toward the water. “I want to be free. I want my life back. Will that ever happen? Will I ever see my parents again, or will Blade win, and kill me?”
* * * *
“We got nothing. The other phone was untraceable. She’s resourceful, that’s for shit sure,” Detective Brophy stated to Detective Rourke.
“The other fucking detectives failed her, that’s why Essie and her parents won’t trust us. Those idiots basically took this guy’s side because he’s military. Just a little digging and some questioning would have shown them that Blade, AKA Corey Flint, is a fucking time bomb waiting to explode. He’s obsessed with this young woman. There’s no other way to describe it,” Detective Rourke replied.
“All we can do is keep trying to find this asshole and lock him up. He’s going to screw up somewhere. If he’s as desperate to find her and have her, he’ll maybe do something else that will give his location away,” Detective Brophy said.
“I hope that something else isn’t murder, because right now, the path of destruction he left at his apartment alone is enough to put him behind bars and even in a psych ward for a long time,” Rourke said
“How are those people? Did that guy, the landlord, get out of intensive care?” Brophy asked, feeling sick about what happened. How some sort of fight broke out and Blade went on a rampage and started tossing people left and right, stabbing them, including nearly killing the landlord before Blade escaped. He evaded police and the first detectives on the case with the assault on Essie Salter. They fucked up, and the commander put Brophy and Rourke in charge.
“He’s on a long road to recovery. We need to start expanding our assistance in this case, Brophy,” Rourke said, and Brophy u
nderstood what he meant. This was military related, despite Blade being discharged. Perhaps it was time to get further information on Blade and ways to track him down and catch him before Blade found Essie or her family.
* * * *
“Hey, beautiful,” Ronin said to Essie as he welcomed her into the kickboxing class.
“Good morning, Ronin,” she said and shyly waved at Bobby, Frank, and Gio who took the class. When she saw Precious walk in she was shocked. She smiled wide. “Precious? What are you doing here?” she asked, and the other guys greeted her as well. Precious smiled as Magnum walked in behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He looked serious. The instructor, Corey Jones, was behind him.
“She is slowly going to begin working out again,” Magnum said, and he emphasized the word slowly. Essie smirked as Precious rolled her eyes. She stepped from his hands and opened her arms to give Essie a hug. The two embraced.
“I’m so happy to see you here. You take your time,” she whispered to Precious. Precious pulled back and smiled. “I will, don’t worry, and after class, we can hit the café if it works for you.”
“Of course it does. It’s Friday,” she stated and was glad to have gotten through the week without seeing Ford and dealing with him saying he missed her in class.
“Awesome,” Precious replied and turned to look at Magnum.
“Essie and I have plans after class, okay?”
“What about the sauna? You’ll squeeze that in so you can relax those muscles.”
“Yes, sir,” she stated, and they chuckled.
“Okay, wiseass,” he replied and then looked at Corey.
“You know the deal.”
“I know the deal. She’ll go easy, and if she pushes it, I’ll yell at her.”
“Nice, Corey,” Precious said to him and Corey winked at her. Essie couldn’t believe it. Corey was like a drill sergeant. He rarely smiled, wasn’t exactly nice, and he demanded a hundred and fifty percent. Essie always left this class sweaty and exhausted.
It Takes Special Forces [Love on the Rocks 9] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) Page 4
