Red turned to purple. The muzzle at her temple started to shake.
Almost there.
Then he gave her the opening she needed. The hand around her throat tightened but the hand holding the gun shook violently and the pressure at her temple lessened. He was more concerned with choking her to death; it was as if he’d forgotten all he had to do was pull the trigger and she’d be dead. Just as she had hoped, a man like Onur Demir would rather kill her with his bare hands. He’d find pleasure in it. But not Hope—the gun would work just fine.
And as quickly as Onur had moved to pin her to the wall, her hands left his forearm. She twisted her body, then threw all of her weight to the right, controlling his arm as they tumbled to the ground. Hope landed on top of him, and without giving Onur time to think, she elbowed him as hard as she could in his gut. He grunted and dropped his arm. Hope went for the gun with one hand while the other went to the inside of his bicep and found the sweet spot. She dug her nails in, pinching the soft tissue until he released the gun and she grabbed it while he struggled to free himself.
All of Hope’s attention had been on getting the gun, therefore she wasn’t prepared when he clipped her jaw with a left-handed punch. Thankfully, he was on his back and she was on top of him so there wasn’t much power behind it. But it still hurt like a motherfucker, and it knocked her clean off him. She rolled to her side, back against the wall. He rolled the other way, reached out to grab her, and she pulled the trigger.
She pulled it again, and again, and again, until the magazine emptied and the slide locked open.
Then she closed her eyes, sealing herself off from the mangled, bloody mess that was left of Onur Demir.
“Did you hear that?” Jangles asked, not slowing his pace as he and Merlin made their way through the tunnel.
“Go!” Merlin shoved him and they both took off at a full sprint.
Jangles hadn’t taken a full ten strides when he heard the final shot.
He counted fifteen in total.
Fifteen.
Jesus Christ.
A full magazine.
Then silence.
Deafening, chilling silence.
“Don’t go there,” Merlin ordered.
It was too late, Jangles was already there. His mind filled with rage, his heart full of hate, and his soul was bleeding.
In the dim light, Jangles could see two prone bodies up ahead.
“Fuck!” he roared and pushed his muscles harder than he ever had. His lungs burned with exertion, and his heart pounded in fear.
Blood pooled between Demir and Hope—an ocean of blood—so much it covered both bodies. It was splattered on her face, in her hair. She was covered.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Fucking hell,” Merlin muttered.
Jangles went down on his knees near her head and yanked his glove off. But before he could check for her pulse, she whispered, “I can’t open my eyes and see it again.”
“Thank God,” Jangles breathed. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Thank fuck.
“Okay. Keep your eyes closed. I’m gonna pick you up.”
Hope nodded, and as gently as he could, he pulled her through the blood until he had her far enough away from the slippery liquid he could safely lift her into his arms.
“Where’re the others?”
“Safe. Everyone’s safe,” he told her.
“I want this off,” she mumbled.
“What do you want off?”
“All of it. I can feel it all over me. He’s seeping into my skin.”
Jangles closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and took a moment to calm his racing heart.
Hope was alive. That was all that mattered.
Demir was dead and Hope was breathing.
“As soon as I can, baby, I promise we’ll get it off.”
“Now.”
“Soon, Hope. Promise, baby. Just keep your eyes closed.”
“Let’s roll. Trigger and Lefty are waiting,” Merlin said.
The two-mile trek back to the tunnel was a blur. Jangles carried a silent Hope. Merlin and Woof kept communication with the rest of the team to a minimum. Just enough to give location updates. Jangles knew both men were eager to get back to their women and he didn’t complain when they kept a fast clip. He wanted to get Hope the fuck out of there and find somewhere to clean her off.
“Tex arranged for rooms in the hotel we stayed at last time.” Woof had taken over radio contact with Tex—Jangles was in no state to coherently speak to anybody.
“Trigger?” Jangles inquired.
“They’re going straight through. Drake will stay with us.”
Jangles adjusted Hope in his arms as he negotiated the tight tunnel.
“Almost there, Hope,” he told her.
“I killed him.”
Fuck. He wanted to comfort her. Kiss her. Run his hand over her face, smooth out the deep creases on her forehead, but he couldn’t. Not until they were out of the tunnel and he could get her cleaned up. He tried to clear his mind, shut down the hatred and anger, but hearing Hope’s tortured whisper brought everything swelling back to the surface.
“I’m not sorry,” she continued. “He wanted to kill you. I’m not sorry. I’ll never be sorry.”
Christ. She was killing him.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hope.”
She nodded against his vest and fell silent, so he did, too. He didn’t want to discuss her killing Demir until he had his blood washed off her skin.
Nori stood at the end of the tunnel, a silhouette due to the light behind her. He couldn’t make out her features but her hands were on her hips and he could swear he saw her tapping her foot in impatience. And he didn’t think she was waiting on Woof.
No, Nori wanted to see for herself that Hope was okay.
As they neared and Jangles could make out her features, Nori opened her mouth to say something but quickly snapped it shut when she caught sight of Hope. Then her lips pinched together and her eyes turned bright with unshed tears.
“None of it’s hers,” Jangles assured her.
Woof stepped around Jangles, tagged his woman, and tucked her close.
“Let’s get out of here,” Woof said and steered Nori toward the SUVs.
By the time Jangles was up the ramp, Drake had the passenger door to the 4Runner open. With a lift of his chin, Jangles got in, situated Hope on his lap, and Drake closed the door.
Merlin, Gwen, Zip, and Destiny piled in with Merlin behind the wheel. The others got into Drake’s vehicle and off they went.
Thank fuck.
Chapter 20
Hope didn’t remember the drive to the hotel. She didn’t remember Beau carrying her into the room. And she barely remembered him setting her on her feet in the shower.
“It’s all gone, baby. You can open your eyes.”
He’d washed her twice. She hadn’t asked but he knew, so he’d soaped her head to toe, rinsed her, and started over scrubbing her skin clean.
When she was in that tunnel, she hadn’t thought it possible. But the moment her eyes opened and Beau’s blue eyes filled her vision, she no longer felt gritty and dirty. She didn’t feel clean—she never would—not after what she’d done.
She just felt like Hope.
Like Beau’s woman.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Beau’s hand moved from where it’d been resting on her hip and his thumb brushed under her jaw and down her throat.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“You’re bruised,” he told her before she could ask.
That didn’t surprise Hope. Onur had tried to squeeze the life out of her.
“I made him—”
“Not yet.”
“Huh?”
“Not until I have you dried off, fed, and tucked into bed. Then you can tell me.”
Hope nodded and her gaze dropped from his face. A large gash on the side of his nec
k caught her attention.
“You’re hurt,” she gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me? I should’ve—”
“Shh. I’m fine.”
“It’s not fine, Beau. You’re still bleeding.”
Beau lifted his hand to his neck and hissed when his fingertips grazed the gash.
“Zip will stitch me up.”
“He’ll stitch you up?” Hope asked, appalled by his nonchalance.
Beau leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers.
“Hope, listen to me, I’m more than fine. You’re standing here in my arms, I’m looking into your warm, pretty brown eyes, you’re breathin’, you’re safe, and no one was hurt. Zip will stitch up the scratch on my neck. I’m gonna feed you, take you to bed, we’ll talk, then I’m gonna hold you while you sleep, and then you’re gonna wake up in my arms, and I’m gonna take you home. So, baby, I’m fucking great.”
“I don’t know if I can go—”
“We’ll talk about that, too. After you eat.”
Hope gave up trying to talk and just nodded. She was starving and was thirstier than she’d ever been in her life.
They got out of the shower. Beau had her dried off and in one of his tees and a pair of sweatpants that didn’t belong to her, but she didn’t ask where they came from. He called Zip and asked him to come to the room to stitch him up.
Two minutes later, the connecting door opened and in walked Zip followed by Destiny. She, too, was fresh out of the shower, her long brown curls still wet, and dressed the same as Hope. Destiny beelined it to Hope and their bodies collided with such force, Hope stumbled back.
Destiny followed her back, not letting go, and squeezed the breath right out of Hope.
“Thank God,” Destiny breathed, then she pulled back and shook Hope. “Are you crazy? Don’t ever do that again. You could’ve died.”
The fierceness in Destiny’s tone took Hope by surprise, and when the fog of that lifted, her gaze went to Beau’s and found him staring at her. The icy look was so chilling Hope quivered. Never had she seen his beautiful blue eyes so stormy. No, not stormy—turbulent.
Violent.
Downright frightening.
So much so, Hope didn’t answer Destiny, she simply let her eyes fall from Beau’s and hugged her friend.
She sucked in a breath, then two. Neither helped to calm her racing thoughts.
Over the months she’d gotten to know Beau, she’d learned to read him. Most of the time, he didn’t need words to communicate. She knew he was disappointed he was leaving her before he said he was leaving. When he was happy, his face was bright with it. When he was turned on, his blue eyes deepened.
But right then, the way he was looking at her, she realized she’d been wrong. Hope thought she’d seen Beau angry. She had not. She might have seen him mad, pissed, supremely ticked off, but never angry. Seeing it then, mixed with something else—maybe fear, maybe agony—it scared the bejeezus out of her.
Hope felt his look penetrate, it seeped into her bones, it knotted in her stomach. That didn’t scare her, it terrified her. Something was happening, something she didn’t like, something that didn’t feel too good.
It was the beginning of the end.
She knew it. That one look told her everything she needed to know. He was letting her go. He promised he wouldn’t, but he was going to break his promise and leave her broken.
Hope knew it like she knew she killed her parents.
Like she knew she didn’t deserve a man like him.
She never should’ve believed Beau.
You could’ve died.
Jangles couldn’t get those words out of his head. Zip had finished closing the gash on his neck and he hadn’t felt a second of it. Destiny and Hope had sat on the bed quietly talking and he hadn’t allowed himself to listen.
He stayed locked in his head, thinking back over the last thirty-six hours. Dissecting every minute, every move. Then he thought back further over the months since he’d moved to Texas. He remembered the first time he saw Hope behind the bar smiling—not at him, at someone ordering a drink—then he’d heard her laugh. The sound hit him square in the chest and he knew he was going to talk her into going home with him. He’d told himself it was because she was sexy as all get-out, but he knew that wasn’t it. He wanted to witness that smile in private, he wanted that laugh all for himself. He wanted both directed his way with an unhealthy need.
Then he harkened back to a few hours ago. She wasn’t smiling then. She was covered head to toe in blood. Onur Demir’s blood. A man she shouldn’t know, never even should’ve heard the name. Yet, she did. Because of him. He’d put her in danger and now she was stained, just like him—a mark on her soul that never should’ve been there, but now it was. She’d been forced to kill a man to save her life—again. The thought made acid churn in his gut.
Because of me.
By the time Zip and Destiny left the room, he knew what he had to do.
It was the only thing he could do.
He’d fucked up huge. He’d known better than to bring a woman into his life. He’d promised himself he never would. Then he’d found Hope. He never should’ve started it, never should’ve made promises to her he was going to break.
And that night, with Hope at his side, her arm resting across his gut, her palm over his heart, her scent filling his nostrils, he made a plan.
An exit strategy.
The fuck of it was, even though it made him a son of a bitch, he did this with Hope sleeping in his arms, taking more from her before he set her free.
He listened to her breathe, felt her warm body pressed against his, and he knew it wasn’t right but he was giving himself one last night.
One last night to memorize every nuance, every sound, every quiet mew, her soft hair falling down her back, the way she fit tucked close.
One last night to feel everything he could, because tomorrow, he’d set her free.
Chapter 21
Numb.
Just numbness.
That was all that was left.
Beau had done all the right things, said all the right things. He’d held her when he told her what had happened, what she remembered about being taken. He soothed her when she cried. He’d held her hand when they left the hotel, guided her on the airplane, kept his arm around her the whole flight. He listened to every word she had to say, offered his support, told her she shouldn’t feel guilty. But he never shared what he felt.
In other words, he was there for her, but he wasn’t.
She’d lost Beau.
Jangles was in his place.
She didn’t know how she knew exactly, but he’d made the shift. And thinking over everything, she realized she’d always had Beau, even way back when they first met. She might’ve called him Jangles, but with her, he’d always been just Beau. He’d given her the man, not the cold hard soldier.
Now she had Jangles. She was a mission to him. That was all.
They’d all been separated when they arrived at Fort Hood. At first, Jangles and the men had protested. Zip, Merlin, Woof, and Duff intensely so. Jangles mildly so. That was, until Commander Turano had stepped in and assured the men he would personally oversee the debriefs. At the time, Hope had no idea what a debrief was. Three hours later, she was well-acquainted with the term.
Hope had been questioned, re-questioned, and questioned some more. She went over every minute detail. When it was over, Commander Turano asked her to never speak of the situation. Though Hope knew it wasn’t a request, it was a gentle command that wasn’t really gentle. It was just a command to keep her mouth shut along with an offer to talk to a military counselor if she should need help dealing with her kidnapping and killing Onur.
Weirdly, she felt no remorse. Perhaps that would change when the shock wore off but she knew she’d never seek help. She’d shove it down where all the other junk lived.
Now she was done and all that was left was a hollowness she never thought possible. Commander Turano
accompanied her down the long corridor to take her back to Jangles, the one person she didn’t want to see.
“Ms. Mitchell,” the commander called and brought them to a stop. “I know the last two days have been hard.”
Yes, one could say they’ve been hard.
Not understanding where he was going with his statement, Hope nodded her agreement.
“When this starts to weigh on you, tell Jangles and I’ll personally see to it that you get the help you need.”
“I appreciate that, but it won’t be necessary.”
Besides, by the time the weight hits, I’ll be nothing but a memory for Jangles.
“Ms. Mitchell—”
“Really, I appreciate the offer, I do. But when I tell you it won’t be necessary, I’m telling you the truth. I know what guilt feels like, I live with it every day. I know how it feels to lose a part of yourself because of something you’ve done. I do not feel that now. I’m okay with what I did because I know it was my only option and it was the right thing. Onur was going to kill me, but before he did that, he was going to kill one of the guys. He wanted them to pay for a debt that was not theirs. I feel nothing but relief he’s dead, and that Jangles, the team, and the women are alive.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you relieved you’re alive?”
Hope shrugged. “I’m expendable. They’re not.”
“Hope—”
“Are you done?” Jangles came around the corner, effectively ending the conversation Hope didn’t want to have. Especially when the commander’s face had gentled and he’d said her name in a soft tone.
Numb, she reminded herself.
Just be numb.
“Yes,” Hope answered. “If you still have stuff to do here, I can take a taxi home.”
Jangles’ torso jerked and his chin dipped. “Even if I wasn’t done, you still wouldn’t be taking a taxi home.”
Right.
One of the others will give me a lift.
On that thought, she asked, “Where’s everyone else?”
“They’re already done.”
Hope's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 5) Page 12
