Chapter 10
10
Hazard’s hands shook as he put together the MRE for Leigh. His lungs felt tight, his breathing choppy. Blood pounded in his temples, and his heart was heavy. He felt completely drained and totally wasted. But he was desperate to see her.
They had retreated to one of the buildings, half his buddies resting and eating, and the other half maintaining their perimeter. He looked down at the food: Beef stew, his favorite, along with an oatmeal cookie, another fav, and his last one. He shook his head, and he gave himself a little swift kick. He hadn’t been likely to share this delicious part of his kit with anyone.
He had to temper this feverish heat and undeniable hunger Leigh caused whenever she was near him. But she’d been through more hell than a lawyer should be, and definitely more than a woman deserved. Frustration with the entire situation, along with his unwanted attraction to her, made everything all the more complicated. He admired her tenacity to go after what she wanted and found her argumentative personality a turn-on. Damn her.
He went into the building that had a crude barracks and bunks, one of which Leigh was sitting on, Anna next to her.
When the door opened, Leigh reacted immediately, pressing back like she was being threatened. That feeling came over him again and his observant brain often wondered about the intensity that generated this type of feeling in others.
Rage.
He was beginning to think he was way in over his head when it came to her, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about that realization.
So, he clenched his jaw, his anger suppressed only by his helplessness. Christ, she looked so scared and vulnerable, and he wasn’t used to seeing her that way. He’d been responsible for her safety, and he’d failed to keep her out of harm’s way, and that was something that ate at him like acid. Another jolt of guilt punched him hard in the gut, but he didn’t want to dwell on her attack. That fucker was just outside, trussed up like the pig he was. He clenched his hand around the fork he was carrying.
There were so many ways to kill a man…Hazard pushed those dark thoughts away. He wouldn’t cross that line. Leigh had asked him not to, but he couldn’t reconcile the feeling that if she asked him, he would turn into a cold-blooded killer for her.
Feeling the weight of uncertainty in his meager offer of food for someone who had been through her kind of ordeal was at best naive, at worst stupid. He hated feeling ineffectual, useless, at a heartbreaking loss. This whole thing with Leigh was out of his wheelhouse, especially all these negative emotions that had never affected him before. He didn’t know how to handle them, and he was sure reconstituted beef stew and an oatmeal cookie weren’t going to make her feel better in any way.
But it couldn’t hurt. He was certain of that. She had to be hungry. He looked at Anna, who had a bleak expression in her eyes, shaking her head slightly. She was telling him that Leigh was still on the verge of collapse. He gave her a little nudge, as a way to get some alone time with Leigh and hopefully make a difference.
Anna turned to her, took her hands, and in a soothing voice, said, “Hey, I see that your dinner has arrived, and I think I’ll go hit one of the guys up for a hot meal. You going to be okay?”
“Of course, I’ll be okay. I’m fine, Anna. I’m worried about the guys. They better watch your right cross.”
Anna chuckled, shaking her head at Hazard’s confusion.
Hazard was aware that Leigh wasn’t fine at all. Her face and arms attested to the brutality of her kidnappers.
She was bruised and battered, but she looked beautiful to him, and he wanted to touch her, caress her soft, warm cheek with the back of his knuckles and smooth her disheveled hair away from her face. That bit of tenderness weaving through his system startled him. He never had these kinds of thoughts.
Her wounds and bruises would heal, but Leigh would have to deal with the mental pain that came with what had happened to her. People wanted to put tragedy and trauma behind them, but most military men knew that was just putting off the inevitable crash. It would come, now or later. It would be better if she talked about it now that it was fresh.
But he also knew that some people just weren’t ready to talk about it until they got some distance, and…sometimes they refused to talk about it at all.
Anna passed him and squeezed his forearm, giving him a sweet look after seeing that he had a cookie on her plate.
He ducked his head and sighed. He wasn’t at all sweet, not by a long shot. He’d been a hairsbreadth away from killing a man in cold blood.
“Are you going to bring that food over here or just hold it and tease me, you jerk.”
His head came up and she gave him a tentative smile, and his heart rolled over. There it was, that personal smile, not one professional bit involved. It was warm, and it was for him alone.
“Oh, you thought this was for you?” he said with confusion.
She tilted her head and gave him another smile. “Commando humor. You’re sassing me with doorhitting and pipekicking humor? You are a tease,” she murmured.
He chuckled. “It’s doorkicker and pipehitter,” he said indulgently.
“Oh, my bad.” She looked sheepish, but beneath all that humor, he could see the aftermath of her terror darkening her eyes. It tore at his heart.
He walked over and sat on the opposite bunk, then set the food down in front of her, handing her the fork. She looked down at it, then back at him. “Are these your rations?”
“Technically, they’re called MREs…ah Meals Ready to Eat. They’re not bad, especially when you’re hungry. The beef stew is my favorite, so I thought you’d like it, and the cookie is also my favorite. I know how you like your sugar, so I thought I would…um…share. It’s my last one, so—” He was babbling on and on about the stupid meal, trying to put her at ease. When he looked up, his breath caught.
Were those tears slipping down her cheeks? Hazard’s hands curled into fists, and the muscles of his arms bunched with tension. He wanted to take all this frustration and anger out on that bastard outside. He watched her face as she looked down at the meager food he could provide, those tears cutting two deep tracks out of his heart.
Leigh sat there in abject misery, her heart hammering with dread, and her insides in knots, not knowing what to do with all these feelings welling up inside her from the moment the team had been ambushed, to the attack on TOC, her capture, and the subsequent attempted rape. Now, Hazard was being so excruciatingly sweet with his kind offer of his beef stew and his…last cookie. She couldn’t handle it, nor could she handle the sight of that white bandage on his arm.
She didn’t want to feel fragile or admit she was fragile in any way. She still had a job to do, and she was a goddamn professional. How could she lead when she looked weak? So, when a tear dropped off her jaw and plopped onto her hand, she was surprised and mortified.
She lifted her head, ready to dig in and give him some satisfaction. All she had to do was thank him. She didn’t have to talk about anything she didn’t want to talk about.
His stricken expression dismayed her even more. He stared at her for a moment, then rubbed his clenched fists against his thighs. He was holding his body so tautly, and she felt so vulnerable. She didn’t know what to say to bridge the silence. Feeling as if her heart were stuck in her throat, wanting nothing more than to soothe this man, she took a shaky breath.
Hazard held her gaze for a split second, then stared at the floor. There was something about the set of his shoulders, about the tight lines around his mouth, that made her want to cry all over again, and she looked up at the ceiling and swallowed hard.
The ache finally eased, and she looked at him. “Thank you for this.”
The sick, naked expression on his face made her throat contract. There was such torment in his eyes, such gut-wrenching guilt, and she understood why he’d fought so hard against their attraction, against her being here.
She was his one vulnerability.
She was his weakness.
He was her strength.
His face contorting in a fury of pent-up feelings, he rose abruptly and hit the wall with the side of his fist, then abruptly turned away. He raised his hand for a second blow, but Leigh was across the space before he could act. Shaken by his uncharacteristic display of anger, she seized him by the wrist, then slid her free arm around his broad shoulders. Grasping him by the back of the neck, she used all her strength to hold him against her.
“Don’t,” she whispered brokenly. “Please, don’t.” He tried to pull away, but she refused to let him go. Closing her eyes against the feelings that washed through her, she tried to soothe him with the sound of her voice. “We made it. We’re still here,” she crooned softly.
He shuddered and turned his face against her neck, then dragged in a deep, ragged breath and caught her in a crushing embrace. Cradling the back of his head, Leigh pressed her whole body tight against him, trying to physically give comfort, trying to wordlessly let him know that it was okay. His hand tangled in her hair as he shifted his hold, locking her flush against him. He inhaled raggedly. “I’m so sorry, Leigh.” His voice sounded crushed. “Sorry I wasn’t there.”
Letting go of his head, Leigh quickly wiped her eyes, then hugged him hard. She didn’t want Hazard to feel like this. It wasn’t fair to him. He hadn’t done a thing wrong. “It’s not your fault, and if you had been there, you probably would have died.” Like the rest of them. Tears stung her eyes as a fresh surge of guilt rose to the surface.
Gunfire ripped across her mind, blood everywhere. People falling and crying out. It was as if it was happening all over again, and she clenched her teeth.
“I would have given my life for you.” His words snapped her out of her flashback. She brushed back his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck, his hair a silky mess.
“Don’t say that,” she said. “I can’t bear those words.” She now knew what it was like for a man to give his life for hers. It was the most painful experience of her life.
After a while, he released a heavy sigh, and Leigh raised her head and looked at him. His expression drawn, he touched the edge of her bruised eye with his thumb, and she caught a glimpse of a deeper torment and guilt she wasn’t sure she could deal with right now. She had enough of her own. He cleared his voice, then, the torment still hovering in those beautiful eyes, gruffly said, “That’s a pretty bad shiner, lady. I’d hate to see the other guy.”
She laughed softly. His attempt at humor was actually very funny. “That guy would be Anna.”
His eyes widened, and she moved back to the cot and picked up her meal.
“Yeah, you’re going to tell me what happened while you eat. Believe me, you don’t want to eat it cold.”
That made her smile again, and she dug into the stew. It actually was quite tasty. She could see why he loved it. “Not bad,” she murmured.
“Anna? Spill.”
“You’re just eager to hear about a cat fight. All men are the same,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He raised his brows and smirked. “Well, if there’s mud involved?—”
She punched him on the shoulder and made a disgusted sound while he pretended like it hurt. The only thing hurting were her fingers. He was like a slab of granite. “I got this brilliant plan to slow us down so you could catch up.” She took another bite of her stew. “I goaded Anna into the fight, and it worked like a charm, but I said something…so terrible, she kind of lost her temper and clocked me for real.”
“And her bruise?”
She shrugged. “I clocked her back.”
“Wow, you’re quite the warrior.” She stiffened, not understanding where that sharp pain came from at his words, but she couldn’t agree with him. She shook her head, but let it go. She eyed the bandage on his upper arm. “How did that happen?”
“Ricochet,” he said with a shrug.
A bullet wound. She swallowed hard, wanting to touch him so badly. She reached out and caressed his forearm, then squeezed. The solemn expression in his eyes altered, changing to a heart-stopping look that made Leigh’s heart roll over. Of course, she knew what he did for a living, but this was all so surreal. She had experienced the dark side of the world, and it was more terrifying than she had expected. But truly, unless she was part of this special operations orbit, how could she comprehend how awful it would be? “Tell me what happened to the team.”
“Breakneck saved us from the ambush,” he said flatly. “He’s the hero.”
Experiencing an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach, she set down her fork. The way his face went blank, and his eyes shuttered. He didn’t want to share what happened, probably because it was bad. “Oh, how?”
He shrugged again. “He covered us while we assaulted the cartel.”
Something suddenly slipped inside her, and she started to tremble. “As succinct and detailed as that was. I will need a bit more information,” she said dryly.
He pulled back a wisp of hair, his touch soft and sensual, but the glint in his eyes was mostly amusement. “Not much more to tell, Leelee.”
“What did you just call me?” A flicker of annoyance got the best of her, and she exhaled a hard breath. “No one calls me that, and the last male who called me that nickname got a punch in the kisser.”
Amusement—at her expense, no less—danced in his gaze. “Well, I’m calling you that, and what is this guy’s name?”
“Billy Rathbone, and he was eight years old.”
“Did he stop calling you that?”
“Better yet, he avoided me.”
“That’s not going to happen.” He stuck out his chin and gave her a fierce, defiant look. “You’re still my charge, and I’m your bodyguard, so we’re stuck together, Leelee.”
“For that, I’m not sharing half of this cookie.”
He stiffened and she thought he was responding to her, but it was clear he was listening to his earpiece. She was right when he said, “Copy that, boss.” Then he turned that silvery gaze to hers, nothing but conviction in those eyes. “I gave it up for you, anyway.” He rose but bent down, and the very male glint in his eyes making her knees weak, whispered, “We all know what happened the last time you offered me a bite of your dessert.”
He gave her one final amused look, then headed for the door. “I’m on guard duty, but I’ll be back.”
Before it could close, Breakneck walked by him, nodding to him. “I just came to see how you’re doing,” he said, not moving from the door as it closed on Hazard’s back.
“Thank you. I’m doing better.”
He nodded, then walked in and she saw that he had a cookie in his hands. I…um…thought you would like this. It’s chocolate chip.” He offered it to her, and her heart melted all over again. These big bad SEALs were a soft touch.
“Thanks.” He came closer and offered her the cookie.
“You do look better,” he murmured, coming around to sit on the cot across from her. “That’s good. I’m sorry you got taken into the gap.”
“Me, too,” she said. “But thank you for coming to get me out.”
He nodded. “Of course, that’s a no-brainer. We weren’t about to leave you to those bastards, especially after that fucking, sorry for my language, ambush.”
“Yeah, Hazard said you saved them. He called you a hero.”
Breakneck frowned. “That’s what he told you? It was me?”
“Yes. Is that wrong?”
“One hundred percent. Hazard left the cover of the warehouse and went into the open to recon, and it’s a good thing he did. He spied a fifty-cal bearing down on us and exposed himself to the cartel to get closer to the gun.” The excitement in his voice told her that even though it had been dangerous as hell, Breakneck had been excited by it all. She couldn’t forget: these men ran into the bullets. “It would have torn us apart. He devised a plan to take control of it, and that’s what he did. He jumped on that gun, risked his life for all of us. All I did was give him covering fire. He’s the hero.” She broke the cookie in half, pretty sated by her meal, and handed it to him. He smiled and accepted it with a nod. “I heard Iceman talking to Preach. He said if it wasn’t for Hazard, we would have had major casualties. He’s putting him in for a medal of valor.” He took a bite and swallowed. He was so unselfconscious and sweetly open. It was his youth most likely. “Hazard won’t like it. None of us like getting medals.”
“Why?”
“We do what we do for the team and the mission. That’s all. We don’t need medals for doing our jobs,” he said, meeting her gaze, one battle-tested sniper eating a chocolate chip cookie with gusto.
Leigh just sat there long after Breakneck left, mulling over what he’d said, and feeling her heart tugging on her hard, thinking that it would be so easy to fall for a man like Hazard. Humble, strong, sweet, and patient. But there was a hard, cold side to him. She’d seen his intent when he was going to blow Conde away. Her heart beat a little faster at the way he had looked, so tough and threatening.
She’d fallen for a man in uniform a long time ago, and she had allowed him to think she could change her life. That was a lot of power, and as seductive as Hazard was, as much as she’d like to sink into the man, she was terrified of even thinking there was hope. Her power belonged to her. She had fought so hard for it.
Her heart squeezed tight in her chest, a distinct warning that she was dangerously close to falling for Hazard anyway, in ways that compromised her independence. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do about her growing feelings for him.
It was a compelling and awful dilemma.
As it turned out, Hazard wasn’t able to get back to Leigh, but he was mollified that Anna was with her. While he was settling down to sleep on a makeshift bed, nothing he wasn’t used to, he closed his eyes, the fatigue dragging at him. He hoped with all his might that Leigh would get past this, they would get Alzate, he was more determined than he had been before this mission, and she could go back to the States satisfied that justice had been served.
All he could see was her bruises, and he opened his eyes to glare at the lump their prisoner made on the ground, while Preacher watched over him. They didn’t dare let Hazard anywhere near him, and that was for the best.
Before he knew it, Iceman was shaking him awake, a garbled, staticky message was sounding in his earpiece. It finally got clearer.
“Iceman, this is Jedi, Marine Mike Tango 257.”
“Go for Iceman.”
“Master Chief! It’s very good to hear your voice. What is your location? We’ve been searching for you half the night.”
“Copy that.” Ice rattled off the coordinates.
“Hot LZ?”
“No. You’re good to land.”
“Aw, too bad. I have a full contingent of Marines that were looking to save a bunch of SEAL asses, as usual.”
Iceman laughed. “We wouldn’t have refused your help, Jedi.”
Hazard got up and started getting his gear together, relieved that they wouldn’t have to trudge out of the gap. Preacher readied the prisoner, putting a gag in his mouth, then setting a hood over his head. His hands were still bound, but Preacher bent down and sliced through the zip tie around his ankles. That was good.
He looked at Preacher, and the senior chief looked back at him. There was no judgment in his eyes. He knew what it was like to want to kill someone with his bare hands. After Luna had been taken…he had been out of his head with worry.
He nodded to Hazard, his silent communication so clear. Leigh won’t have to look at his ugly mug all the way back to Bogotá.
Trying to tamp down his sudden anger, Hazard walked over to the building and knocked. When he got the okay to enter, he poked his head in and informed the two women they had a ride back to Bogotá. Anna was elated, but Leigh still looked exhausted. He wondered if she had slept at all.
Fifteen minutes later, they watched as the big Chinook landed and Marines poured out to cover their run to the chopper.
Once they were all inside, the Marines loaded up, and they flew back to the TOC where more Marines were guarding the plane that had landed. All of the bodies had been loaded on board, and as he settled back against the orange netting, he couldn’t help looking at the body bags. He wanted to shield Leigh from the sight, but when he looked over at her, she was staring at them with such a devastated look on her face, he slipped his arm around her, not caring who saw it.
She pressed her head against his shoulder, and he stayed that way on the flight back. When they landed, he hustled her off the flight, not waiting for them to unload those black bags. She’d had enough of that sight.
Back at the compound, he went with her to their room where he waited while she showered and gathered up his clean clothes from his locker. She came out of the bathroom, clean and dressed. He took his turn, insisting on leaving the door open in case she needed him.
When he came out, he decided that the best course of action was for her to leave. He found her on the bed just sitting there. He frowned and walked over to her.
“I think you should pack up and get a flight out of here.”
Her expression startled, she stared at him, alarm flickering in her eyes, then she jumped up and started to walk past him as if he hadn’t said a word. He grabbed her arm and wheeled her around, his irritation skyrocketing. He caught her by the jaw and forced her to look at him, something dark and painful breaking loose in him when he saw how pale her face had gone, the fear in her eyes. He didn’t want her in Colombia, and he didn’t want her to be alone in San Diego. He didn’t want her to leave, and he wanted relief from this…thing between them. It skewed his judgment, and he couldn’t even be sure if his thinking was fucked right now, and that pissed him off.
She shook her head emphatically. “I can’t go back, not now. It’s like letting them win, and I won’t do that.” She shrugged out of his grasp.
“You can if it will save your life. Go back to San Diego, Leigh. Leave this to us and the CIA.”
“No. No way am I leaving.” She set her hands on her hips. “You can stuff that cockamamie idea back where it came from.” She wasn’t looking at him, and her tone was flat and hard. But he saw the tremor in her jaw.
“Cockamamie idea? It’s not a stupid idea, Leigh,” he said, lifting his hand, his jaw suddenly so tight he could barely speak. “You’ve been through hell, and there’s no guarantee that they won’t come gunning for you again.”
She swung her gaze to his, and there was no mistaking the fatigue, wariness, and the healthy dose of fear he saw there. “You’re being emotional and protective, and I appreciate it?—”
“I am not being emotional!” he growled. “I am being practical and responsible.”
She shook her head, her eyes going bleak, her body trembling. “And you think I’ll be safe from the cartel in San Diego?” Her chest rose and fell more quickly. Her throat worked. Her cheeks drained of color, and she swallowed hard. Her words sank in for both of them.
Fuck him! He wasn’t thinking straight, and that was one other thing she had done to him. If she did go back to San Diego, he was going to be distracted regarding her safety. They would assign her bodyguards, but it was a less-than-optimum situation.
She wasn’t safe anywhere, except with him. That was the bottom line, and he was going to have to deal with what was between them. He wasn’t sure at this moment whether he’d wanted her to go back home because of the chemistry between them, the very fact that he couldn’t resist this woman, or if it was because he feared for her safety if she stayed in Colombia.
Maybe it was all of the above, but whatever it was he was feeling was moot now. The decision was made. She was staying, and he was going to keep her as close as he could, determined not to lose his focus.
But even as he stood here with her, he could feel the wild, pent-up passion between them, tempered by her fear. Never had a woman affected him on two primal levels, the one to bed her, and the one to protect her.