His Soldier Under Siege

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His Soldier Under Siege Page 7

by Regan Black


  Wow. Relief left her momentarily speechless. The notification didn’t seem like the commander’s style, yet she’d happily separate the Riley Hunter from the bogus accusation. “Is there anyone you don’t know?” she asked.

  “Perks of thirty years of service.” The warmth in his voice soothed her. “We’ve met a time or two,” he added.

  “Clearly you made a good impression,” she teased.

  “Whatever the reason, I appreciated the heads-up. You would’ve kept that kind of news under wraps.”

  Yes. For as long as possible. “Why worry over what is sure to fizzle out soon enough?” She had to believe in a quick resolution so she could get back to work. Helping others was the only thing that gave her any peace.

  “What will you do with your time off?”

  Since he didn’t know about the stairwell attack, she couldn’t admit she planned to search the hospital campus for the man who attacked her. “I’ll probably do some hiking. Short day trips,” she added.

  “Not alone?”

  His worry came through loud and clear. “Dad, come on. I can’t live in a bubble.”

  “Promise me, Grace Ann. You have to be smart right now. Whoever orchestrated the attacks on Matt is still out there and we still don’t have a solid lead.”

  She moved to the corner of the kitchen, lowered her voice. “He sent you a picture.”

  When Matt had been targeted, her father had received candid pictures via text message from burner cell phones to prove how close the hunter could get.

  The sigh confirmed her suspicions. “He sent two. The first was you hugging someone at the hospital. The second was just a broken window. No people in that one, but there was enough background for me to recognize your house.”

  “Just when I’d convinced myself it was all a coincidence,” she said too brightly. If her dad had mentioned this to Hank, it certainly reframed his arrival and overreactions yesterday.

  “Come stay with us,” her dad was saying. “Surf. Hike. Take the boat out. Your mom would love your help shopping for the new baby.”

  She laughed merrily at that. Matt and Bethany had just announced they were expecting and her mother was ecstatic. “Mom has never needed help shopping.” Feeling a smidge closer to normal, she swiveled to start a second cup of coffee and came face-to-face with Derek.

  Her laughter faded, replaced by sheer lust. His sandy hair was dark, damp from the shower, and he’d shaved. Her fingertips tingled, eager to touch the smooth line of his jaw. A navy blue T-shirt emphasizing his muscled chest was left untucked over loose athletic pants. Her pulse skipped happily along, troubles forgotten.

  He flashed a smile and mouthed the word morning. The man gave hot a whole new meaning, she thought as she dragged her attention back to the phone call. “I’ll, ah, let you know what I decide. Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She set the phone aside and ordered herself to stop gawking. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him damp from a shower. No, just the first time the scent of his masculine body wash had invaded her kitchen.

  “Coffee?” She pulled down a clean mug.

  “Please,” he whispered, out of respect for Hank.

  She waved him in, pointed him to the drawer stocked with coffee pods. Her kitchen wasn’t really designed for more than one person at a time and she felt the heat of his body as they slid by each other. “You’ll take time to eat before you go in, right?” she asked, pouring batter onto the sizzling skillet. The sleep had erased the worst signs of tension around his eyes and mouth, but he needed to fuel up as well. There were long days ahead for him and Kevin.

  He glanced to the wall clock. “You said the surgeons do their rounds pretty early. I don’t want to miss him.”

  “Kevin’s surgeon won’t come by until eight, at the earliest. If he sends an associate—doubtful in this case—it will be closer to nine, after the morning staff meeting.”

  The coffee brewer sputtered and Derek inhaled deeply before he took a cautious first sip.

  “Then count me in for breakfast.”

  The reply sounded natural. Perfect. Anticipation shimmered through her. They should have taken this step ages ago. She’d always kept Derek tucked away from the rest of her life, a secret pleasure she didn’t have to share. What joys had she been denying herself, and him, with that hard line? Not that he’d made much of an effort to break through it.

  Out in the living room, Hank yawned and sat up, stretched his arms overhead. She’d forgotten he was here. “Breakfast is almost ready,” she called to him.

  “Eggs?” he asked hopefully.

  “Pancakes and sausage, too,” she replied. “Get moving.”

  She pulled the first pancakes off the griddle and poured out more batter into perfect circles before starting the eggs.

  “You can cook,” Derek said, eyeing her over his coffee mug.

  “This is just glorified baking,” she pointed out, unsettled by that steady gaze.

  “It’s the most important meal of the day.” He shifted the fabric of her lightweight hoodie; she saw his eyes narrowing at the colorful marks on her throat. “How are you feeling?”

  His careful touch made any reply impossible. Hearing the squeak of hinges on the bathroom door, she seized on the distraction. “Hank will want coffee.”

  When the food was ready, he passed platters and tableware to Hank on the other side of the counter.

  It gave her an unexpected flutter of satisfaction, watching Derek scarf down food she’d made. Breakfast at a campsite was a team effort. Having breakfast here put all this tenderness in her heart, and she found herself longing for a deeper connection they’d expressly avoided.

  This wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Not with Hank staring her down. In investigator mode, he made her feel like a bug trapped under a microscope.

  When Derek offered to handle the dishes before he left, Hank waved him off. “You’ve got places to be and I need to chat with Gracie.”

  Grace’s stomach cramped, her appetite gone. She didn’t want to chat with Hank. He helped himself to more pancakes while Derek went to change. He returned in a gray button-down shirt, dark jeans and casual shoes, overnight bag in hand. She wanted him to stay, though she knew he couldn’t.

  “What about your car?” Derek asked.

  “I’ll take her over,” Hank replied for her.

  “All right.” Derek didn’t argue, but he didn’t look happy. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “It’s part of the full-service package.” She smiled. “I’ll come by Kevin’s room in a bit,” she promised.

  “Great,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

  Her lips felt cheated. They’d always kissed goodbye at the end of their getaways. She stacked up dishes at the table. “When are you leaving?” she asked Hank with syrupy sweetness.

  He folded his arms and stared her down. “As soon as I convince you to get out of town.”

  “Save your breath.” Irritated with him, she stood up, swaying when the room did a slow spin.

  “Gracie?” Hank nudged her back into the chair. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” The denial lacked confidence. “Just give me a minute.”

  “Another reason to head south,” he muttered. “You’re stressed out and Mom would love to spoil you a bit.”

  She didn’t need spoiling, just time and a good distraction. Better to stay right here where she could be useful and spell Derek while Kevin recovered. Derek might be an expert caregiver, but Kevin wasn’t fourteen anymore and the road ahead of them was a long one.

  A small glass of orange juice appeared in front of her. “Drink up.”

  Arguing would be petty. She drank it down and felt better. “You could have let Derek take me in,” she grumbled.

  “He doesn’t understand the stakes,” Hank said, cl
osing the dishwasher. “He’s a civilian.”

  “You’re biased.”

  Derek’s career choices weren’t the issue. After speaking with her father, there was no denying the danger to her life was likely imminent. For months now, she’d been walking a fine line between sensible precautions and outright paranoia. She didn’t want Derek dragged into the fray. Yesterday’s attack had only succeeded because she’d been distracted over the suspension. Now that she was prepared, it wouldn’t happen again.

  She leaned back against the counter while Hank wiped down the sink and dried his hands. “There’s no reason for me to run and hide. I’m not putting any dependents at risk and I’m not allowed at work. I might as well be bait.” She didn’t have to voice her additional concern that going into hiding might force the person pulling all the strings to move on her younger siblings. Hank would’ve thought of that, too.

  “Are you crazy?” Hank twisted the towel in his hands. “Those pictures, Gracie. He was close.”

  “He won’t get that close again.”

  His gaze dropped to her throat. “Derek said he’d recognize the guy from the stairwell. You have to agree the man who did that could’ve been hired muscle,” he said. “If we find him, we might get a lead or a name. I’m sure the hunter is pulling the strings, hiring locals to do his dirty work.”

  “Why go after us?” she wondered. “Why not just hire those locals to go straight at Dad?”

  “Mind games.” Hank tapped his temple. “Takes a sick person to punish an enemy by attacking the innocent.” He caught her hand, squeezed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been taking care of myself a long time. While I’m off the rotation at the hospital, can I help you investigate?”

  “No.”

  She ignored the scowl meant to close the discussion. “I’m not an idiot,” she protested.

  “You are for suggesting that with a straight face,” he said.

  She wanted to smack him. He might not have been her brother from birth, but he sure was a natural in the role. “I can help,” she insisted. She had to do something to stay busy, to keep those ghosts quiet.

  “Not with this case.” His gaze gentled. “Your clearance isn’t valid,” he reminded her.

  “They grounded me because of the Riley Hunter and Kevin got hurt. That isn’t right.” She was close to begging. “I need to do something.”

  “So do something,” Hank said. “Go surf. Take out Dad’s boat. Relax and recharge.”

  “Hide,” she said, disgusted. “Now who is making idiot suggestions?”

  Hank shuffled around her and out of the kitchen. “Get your shoes on and I’ll take you to your car.”

  When they reached her hospital parking space, she understood why Hank had insisted on handling this. Down on hands and knees, he flashed a light under her car, looking for signs of tampering or even a bomb on her candy-apple-red compact SUV. As an Army CID investigator, he would have undergone training that was more up-to-date than hers. Not to mention, he’d thought to look and she hadn’t.

  Explosives and bombs were for countries far away, weapons of war between powers struggling for dominance, not her car here at home. Just when she thought Hank was done, he popped the hood and continued his search.

  “Are you planning to disassemble my car right here?” she demanded, frustrated with both of them.

  “If I have to.”

  “Fine.” Antsy, her skin prickling as if she’d been sunburned, she couldn’t watch anymore. “I need to get upstairs and check on Kevin.” Derek, too. She had to give him the whole truth today. If that was the end of their arrangement, she’d find a way to cope. She always did.

  Turning on her heel, she left. Even if she forgot every minute of her training, there were military police stationed all over the base. She could safely get from her parking space to the orthopedic wing without another incident.

  Hank caught up with her at the shuttle stop. “Why won’t you cooperate?”

  “Life is too short to be bullied.”

  “Precautions do not equal bullying.” He gave her a quick hug. “You need to accept that you are the primary target.” He tapped his phone. “I’ll send a picture of the man I assigned to guard your car.”

  “You did not. Hank, you’ve become paranoid.”

  He ignored her. “If he isn’t there when you want to leave, call a cab or something. Do not get into your car without assistance.”

  “That’s ludicrous.”

  “Your father has an enemy whose preferred weapon is inflicting pain on his children. I need to know you’ll be careful. Alert.” His gaze locked with hers.

  “I will.” She gave in and hugged him hard as the shuttle approached.

  “Check in,” he ordered.

  “Hourly?”

  “If only,” he grumbled. “I’m posting a team at the house, too. I’ll send the headshots once the rotation is set.”

  Resigned to the all-out protective detail, she boarded the shuttle. There were worse things than being loved to near-smothering. When Matt had been targeted, she’d been a basket case, full of worry for her brother and his newfound family. She hadn’t thought less of him for accepting help from others and he wouldn’t have been any happier with the precautions than she was now.

  As the shuttle stopped to pick up more passengers, she let it all sink in. The Riley Hunter was taking aim at her, whether she understood the reasoning or not. Dangling herself like bait could bring more trouble closer to Derek and his brother, and that was a bigger risk than she was willing to take.

  Being idle or agreeing to hide wouldn’t advance the case. She would not stop searching for a solution that exposed the Riley Hunter and kept all the people she loved safe.

  * * *

  When Derek reached Kevin’s room he was pleased to find his brother sitting up. His first instinct was to let Grace Ann know, but he resisted the urge to send a text. She had enough going on right now, and that was only the things he knew about.

  Kevin poked at a bland tray of toast and anemic-looking eggs, admitting his appetite wasn’t up to speed yet. Derek didn’t mention where he’d spent the night or the details of the amazing breakfast Grace Ann had prepared.

  They didn’t have to wait too long for the surgeon to come by. He’d explained how well the spinal surgery had gone and assured both of them that the long-term prognosis for healing the broken vertebrae was fantastic. Derek heard the warning that the biggest challenge would be keeping Kevin from doing too much, too soon, once physical therapy began.

  “See,” Kevin said when they were alone. “You can go on back to work. I’ve got this.”

  Derek wasn’t going anywhere. “I have plenty of vacation time,” Derek said. “Plus I can telecommute for as long as it takes to get you on your feet.”

  “Better break out the champagne.”

  The disappointment was brutally obvious. “Well, screw you, too, little brother.”

  Kevin’s laugh turned into a sputtering cough. When he had his breath back, there was a familiar spark in his eyes. “Seriously, man. You don’t have to stick around for every pain pill and PT appointment.”

  “Maybe I want to.”

  Would Grace Ann extend the invitation for him stay at her place? More than the breakfast or brownies, he wanted time with her. Time to explore this curious longing for something more settled. Watching her cook this morning had reminded him of days when commitment was the norm rather than a terrifying burden.

  “What about what I want?” Kevin interrupted his thoughts. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  The image of Hank storming into Grace Ann’s bedroom flashed through his mind. Was he doing a similar smothering act on his brother? “Did you know Grace Ann bakes?” he asked.

  “What did she make?” Kevin struggled to sit up a bi
t more, his face pinched with the effort as he tried to get a glimpse of the hallway.

  So her stress baking was a widely known practice. It bothered him that he’d been sleeping with her and hadn’t been aware of the habit. “She made brownies last night,” he said.

  “What kind? I want one.”

  Derek swallowed a bitter retort. He couldn’t possibly be jealous of his brother for knowing something about Grace Ann. “Peanut butter and chocolate chip.”

  “With the frosting?” Kevin scowled when Derek nodded. “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?”

  “She’s wound up about this whole mess.” He dropped his head back to the pillow. “None of this,” he motioned to himself, “is her fault.”

  “What?” Derek asked.

  But Kevin was like a dog with a bone. “You could have smuggled one in here,” he continued. “Hang on. How did you get a brownie last night?”

  “I, ah...” He hadn’t thought this through. “There was a problem with her car, so I drove her home,” he said.

  “Not again.” Kevin muttered an oath.

  “What are you talking about?” Derek asked, trying to keep his cool.

  “Some jerk tagged her car a while back. I gave her a lift that day while the police did their thing.”

  He didn’t like the picture these small pieces of information were building. Was she being stalked? If so, why fib to Hank about the man in the stairwell being a psych patient?

  “I can’t believe you didn’t bring me a brownie,” Kevin grumbled. “Use my phone ask her to bring the brownies in.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Derek said, slapping a leash on this sudden burst of irritability. It was completely normal for Kevin to have her phone number. They were coworkers. Family, if he bought into that army camaraderie theory. “If she’s willing to put me up for another night.”

  “You stayed with her?”

  “She insisted,” he said, instantly on the defensive.

  “Yeah. She would.” Kevin coughed again and Derek handed him a cup of water. “Her brownies are better than Mom’s, right?”

  Agreeing felt like a betrayal. Disagreeing would be a lie. “I’m thinking of asking her to give Mom’s recipe a try,” Derek said.

 

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