Chapter 14
14
MARI
Fresh mountain air and sunlight mingled above the picnic blanket I sat on while Will regaled me with stories of Robe’s officer life in the military at the end of my third month in the cabin, or outside it. Not that I was counting. Much. Not all of them represented the grumpy man the way he would have liked to have been portrayed, digging at his pride, but some part of me enjoyed hearing tales of his fallibility, what made him human.
Not the machine that pushed forward into some unspoken vengeance for the ruined lives of the men who loved him, however their crazy household worked. And that love became obvious as Will spoke, animated as his hands told the story for him.
“He threw the snake as far as he could, still shrieking a little. It landed right at Miller’s feet. The dude shot it, never taking his eyes off Robe, this look of utter disgust on his face. Robe bought him a lot of near beer—the base was a dry station—and got over it.” Will’s infectious grin brought on my own.
“Are you supposed to be telling me stories like that?” I nudged his shoulder, enjoying the easy warmth he offered. “Something about breaking the bro code.”
“Very American of you, Brit. But… you’re right. I’m probably not.” His smile dimmed as his gaze flicked to the tree line. He blew out a breath and turned his attention back to me. “It’s good to share the memory with someone who appreciates that Robe’s got faults.”
“Oh, he’s got plenty of those, all right.” I twisted a pine needle into segmented pieces, adding to the pile near my crossed ankles, and decided to risk it all. “He looked… stressed this morning.”
“He’s got one hell of a grudge match with that man.”
“Who?” I frowned, searching his face, so full of youth and innocence.
Sandy-brown hair flopped over his eyes. Will pushed it back, pursing his lips as he stared into the water cascading into a steady stream. The river meandered its way along the mountainside and tipped off the edge farther along in a never-ending tumble, though some edges were still covered in the occasional rare smatter of snow. Fine spray kissed his skin, his gentle brown eyes better suited to a poet than a soldier.
Will’s gaze lowered to mine, dark and filled with suppressed rage. Any thought of innocence cowered beneath the intensity there. He blinked, and the tormented eddies disappeared, replaced by the boyish man I’d thought I understood.
“No one.” He caught my wrist and placed a trio of small white flowers into my palm, their fragile petals curled at the tips from being crushed in his hand.
It took me a moment to pick out what they were, my head still full of his switch from a sweet younger-brother type I trusted to a mini wrath-filled demon full of dark passions.
“Strawberries. Jon showed me wild ones. Dead ones at the end of winter,” I corrected myself.
“These flowered early this season. Like they were waiting for you.” Will grinned. “Alan mentioned something about making a hydroponics shed. That came from your head, huh? They’re my favorite.” He added a few of the ripe berries that probably came from the same store as the ones Jon gave me to my palm and closed my fingers over them. “Enjoy.” He leaned back, bracing his hands behind his head, and fully stretched out on the blanket.
“What are you doing?” I poked his side.
“Sleeping.” He yawned.
“Didn’t you get enough last night?” I popped a strawberry into my mouth and sighed. “Yum.”
“I got thirty minutes of shut-eye after Robe—” He cleared his throat and shut his mouth.
“After Robe what?” I poked him again.
Will caught my wrist and levered up, stealing my space. I shuffled back, but his other hand clamped at my waist, holding me in place.
“Don’t ask what I can’t tell you, Mari.” His voice strained, he leaned forward, rubbing his nose against mine.
Warmth sank into my skin where he held me, his body arced over mine, gaze darkening. The boy disappeared in a blink, replaced with the sort of unyielding man who prickled my skin, and my breaths shortened.
“What can’t you tell me?” I forced myself to stay still despite the tingles that raced over my arms, his mouth so close that if he tipped his head, he’d kiss me.
A deep rumble filled his throat. “Christ, you smell like strawberries.” Releasing me, he pushed back and resumed his position on the blanket, staring unblinkingly at the clear, pale sky.
“I thought you liked strawberries?” I frowned, trying to put the complex man I’d mistakenly assumed was a simple soul back together in my head.
“I do. That’s the problem.” His hand shot out to squeeze my wrist in a quick, intimate gesture that left my heart thudding in my chest.
“Oh.” My pulse fluttered beneath his too-fast touch. I tucked my fingers together, making a basket for the berries he’d given me.
His phone buzzed. He wrenched it out of his pocket, exhaling a sharp breath. “They’re back. Let me sleep for thirty minutes, and then I’ll take you back to Robe.”
I nodded, though his eyes closed too fast to see it, and stared at the waterfall.
But what if I want to stay here with you?
The cascading water gave me no answers.
Within seconds Will snored beside me. I ate my strawberries, wishing I could curl up at his side, and told my confused, traitorous heart to shut it.
* * *
The next several days continued in the same pattern. Each morning I pushed myself out of Robe’s bed and dressed, ignoring the remaining scars and shadows of bruises beneath my skin I still saw no matter how much they faded and the shame I saw every time I glanced in the mirror by accident. My household of sexy captors forced me to eat amazing food, drink good coffee and better tea, and plied me with alcohol under Robe and Jon’s strict supervision.
Alan’s absence left a void in the house. His lighthearted jokes, flirting with everything in sight… I missed him. We all did, but at least they knew where he’d gone.
I spent days out with Jon learning the forest, or Miller took me to train while Robe shot nearby or chopped wood. Fresh-cut pine would forever hit the top of my favorite scents list. I’d never thought of woodsmen as attractive before, but muscles and fresh sweat and pine needles did it for me.
Also soap.
The longer Alan stayed away, the further Robe retreated into himself. Nevertheless, his brooding presence skyrocketed, filling the cabin until I found myself tongue-tied when he looked my way, communicating through a rare touch or conversations behind closed doors where my invitation didn’t extend.
Every night I fell asleep in his arms, his bulk the foil to my nightmares, though they had nothing on the hole in my heart that remained from the night he stayed away. How much I relied on him terrified and healed me all at once. When I woke, a scream lodged in my throat and phantom hands trailing over my body, he secured my flailing limbs with a gentle but firm hold, lulling me back to a land where the phantoms reached out but couldn’t touch me unless they were his.
My hours dwindled in a timeless fashion. I learned more about Robe, Jon, and the two younger men through listening to their conversations. Maybe professional eavesdropping could be my new thing when I got to… wherever life took me. After . With no place in mind, I headed toward a gray destination yet to take form.
When that boredom suddenly changed, I wished I’d never whined about it at all.
At breakfast on the fourth morning after the boys had returned from their mission or whatever the hell they’d been up to, heavy footsteps resonated outside the house that were so different from the footfalls of our sole absentee, they drew every eye.
“Do you get visitors?” I whispered as Robe and Jon took up position on either side of the doorframe.
Miller withdrew a matte black handgun from beneath the bar and sighted the entry. “No.”
“Fuck me.” Robe glanced out the side window and whipped the door open in time to catch the bundle that collapsed inside.
Alan lay on the floor, panting in short, staccato breaths, covered in dark fluid. Dirt or something else crusted his temple, and his hair stuck out at all angles. Deep circles hung beneath his eyes, and his skin had paled into an unhealthy, sallow hue.
“Alan!” I grabbed a cloth off the bar and shot beneath Robe’s arms. His quick intake behind me said I’d crossed a line, but I didn’t care. “Jesus, where are you—never mind. What happened?” I dabbed at his face, trying to locate the source of the injury.
“It’s not mine. Mari, stop.” Alan caught my wrist and pressed it to his chest over his heart. “I’m not hurt, sweetcakes. Just exhausted.”
“This”—I waved my dirty cloth to encompass his entire body dripping fluids, some of which looked like blood—“qualifies as hurt.”
“If you say so.” He dropped his head back to the floor and fell silent while I fussed, though he never let go of my wrist, rubbing his thumb over my pulse point.
Despite his words, his heart pounded inside his chest under the cover of his clothes. My pulse matched his beats until they slowed.
Finally, he turned dulled eyes to Robe. “You were right. He was in the bar.”
“What?” Robe startled behind me, resting a hand along my spine as he leaned forward. “Fuck. Will, get him water and electrolytes. Shower, then debrief?”
His hand tightened on my back, reminding me that I didn’t warrant an invite to that meeting.
Will scooted inside the door, and I wondered where he’d been.
Instead of arguing, I returned to my assessment of the friend I refused to leave. Even if they didn’t tell me everything, this ragtag group of lost boys was mine to care for and protect. Dark red flakes, crusted at the edges, peeled away in my hand. I swapped my dry cloth for the fresh damp one Will passed over as he tipped water into Alan’s mouth.
My clean cloth turned bloody fast. I gripped it tight. “If you’re not hurt, who does all this belong to?”
Alan held my gaze for a long moment, then closed his eyes.
“How many?” Robe asked softly.
“Three.” He paused. “Four—it doesn’t matter.”
“Fuck,” Robe swore. He caught me beneath my arms and lifted me up, though Alan still held my wrist.
“Put me down. I want to help.” I wriggled in protest, but Robe, in his typical fashion, ignored me.
“And I need time, Mari. Will you give us that?”
“She should know.” Alan squeezed my hand, winding his fingers through mine as he pushed himself off the floor. “She deserves to know. He’s hurt us all.” He held Robe’s gaze and didn’t back down.
My heart thundered as the two men fought a silent battle over my head.
“This is how I usually feel,” Will stage-whispered behind his hand.
I giggled, though his light words didn’t hide the concern that tightened his easy features.
“Shut up or you can wash my ass,” Alan muttered, then threw up his hands. “Fine. Run it your way, Robe. But shutting her in there”—he pointed to the room we shared—“doesn’t solve other problems.”
“I’ll work it out in my own time.”
“Stubborn ass.”
“Agreed.” I caught the elbow Alan offered with a stiff smile and let him walk me to my door. “You know where to find me when I’m to be let out of my prison.”
Alan gripped my hand tight, pulling me a little closer, and my eyes widened. “You’re the reason I came back,” he mumbled into my ear.
I sucked in a long breath, shocked beyond my brain’s ability to function. Alan’s grip tightened. He paused for a long, intimate moment, brushing his mouth over my skin in the barest kiss. My heart thumped as my vision swam, obscuring his exhausted form. His grip lessened, dropping away.
Alan sighed and headed for the larger bathroom down the short hall that housed the bedrooms. His shoulders bowed as though he carried the heartache of every man in the house.
Of everyone he bore responsibility for.
I shut the door without looking back and leaned against it. My body trembled as I opened my hand and stared at the tiny pink cocktail umbrella Alan had pressed into my palm. Its features were marred with scribble, and as I tentatively opened the frail pleated paper, the scrawl transformed into a word.
Gideon.
* * *
I clutched my secret tight to my chest as I went through my now-familiar day-to-day motions, knowing I’d never tell Robe what I understood about his covert missions or the risk they all took. Small things like where Alan went, his leaving me gifts, and the trail of bodies in his wake. I secreted every fragment of conversation away, each one a partial puzzle piece revealing who my old boss had been to me that vied against what Robe’s crew knew.
I was under no illusions that the other men weren’t as brutal in their own way. The whole situation should have made me run for the proverbial hills, but I hid within their walls instead. Robe and Jon went about their days oblivious to the dark glances both Miller and Will shot my way, though each had his different reasons. Tension grew every time Will stood close to me, but other changes tweaked the dynamic of our odd group.
After Alan’s return, the fragile trust I’d brokered with Miller dissipated as though it had never existed. He refused to speak to me again, though his glares were gifted to me on a regular basis. All training stopped. Robe provided emotional distance between us despite remaining physically close, his usual sentinel self without the comfort, leaving me once again an island in a sea of wary mountain men. Alan caught my eye more than once, watchful and knowing. His smirk told me I hid nothing, even if the rest of the household remained oblivious to my plan to stay sane.
Those days fast transformed into one lost week and then another, each running into the next until I couldn’t remember which month we were in. Spring set in, and I woke one morning to a bird call I didn’t recognize and bright green foliage that took over Robe’s corner of the world. Even the air smelled warmer from where I sat at the small table in the kitchen by the window. Robe still tried to get me to talk about who hurt me, but the more he probed with targeted questions on details he shouldn’t have known, the more certain I became that someone had searched me on the internet or whatever they used for communications out here—a log TV, for all I knew.
On rare occasions, I wondered if anyone had looked for me. The UK girls I never socialized with, the family I never called, who disapproved and wouldn’t want me back anyway. All I did before was work long hours six days a week for Gideon and then sleep through the next day. Rinse, repeat.
Over and over again.
Like in a toxic relationship, he stripped away my hours until family and friends faded, leaving only him in my future. And now, I didn’t have that either.
My island shrank by the day, shared by an intense style of brotherhood that irritated me, drove me nuts with their overprotective streaks, and gave me anxiety attacks when they didn’t turn up after dark. But they weren’t the only things that went bump outside the cabin.
Determined not to be afraid of him, I confronted my old boss’s shade as often as I could, walking in the forest beside Robe, knowing he provided a safety net if I crumbled. The more I reflected on my prior life, the more I recognized my situational blindness, both then and now.
No visible office leapt out at me within the house, though a single locked door I’d tried too many times to count denied me entry. Not that I had many chances to try, given Miller’s renewed mistrust. I began to understand the men I coexisted beside, adding tiny fragments of each of their personalities to my new, somewhat tarnished, armor.
Things I liked started to turn up on the nightstand beside Robe’s bed. An e-book reader arrived filled with my Tbr from home, then a mug of chicken soup. A hairbrush and products to tame my curls that I suspected came from Robe’s sister were neatly packed away in the bathroom. Pain medication, contraception, and tampons neatly packaged in a basket containing glitter indicative of Alan’s flair were a welcome relief and right on time as my stress-delayed monthly finally made an appearance.
Finally, a potted orchid arrived.
I nearly cried, running my fingers over the leaves and watering it stupid until Will crept in and took my plastic cup away with promises to bring it back when the plant recovered from my overzealous affection.
Each night, Robe slipped into my borrowed bed, clothed in whatever he wore that day, his huge frame wrapped around me as I slept. When the nightmares became too much for him to handle alone, Jon joined us. The first time, it had seemed odd, but my sleepy head accepted the peace offering. The two huge men sandwiched me between them, providing me with a barrier from my demons in a restricted space that somehow appealed to the new broken me. Their combined presence beat my night demons away, allowing me a dreamless, restful sleep.
Alan spoiled me with music and dancing during the day, while Jon helped my body heal with lotions and taught me gentle stretches. The bruises, long faded, were etched soul deep. Just because I couldn’t see them any more didn’t mean they weren’t still a part of me. Invisible scars ran the length of my body, and aches hit me at random intervals on nights when I slept in Robe’s too-large bed alone.
Those were the nights I suspected he wasn’t in the house at all, though when I asked, he would lie to me and say he slept with someone else. It wasn’t his eyes that gave him away but rather Miller’s, the hard man’s yellow gaze sliding away, his jaw ticking until he left the room in his typical style.
I didn’t push, too scared that Robe might finally say my tenure in the cabin was up. What I wanted and the reality of being shoved out on my own clashed in my head, and so I remained silent—and scared—until he returned to me and I slept again.
Bless Will for his good cheer and enthusiasm, the kid with his own demons who wanted to help everyone. After the months I’d spent in the cabin, I’d ingrained myself into their lives, and they were mine.
Most of them, anyway.
Then came the crux. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to face what and who resided in the darkness outside the invisible barrier of Robe’s home. I couldn’t walk through the door on my own or return to work. I didn’t want to find out who hadn’t looked for me, or their reason for not making me the focal point of a search party.
What I did want was for my picture to feature on the back of a milk carton like a loved child, something I never could claim to have been. That would never happen for one simple reason, no matter how my head told me to at least pretend to want to be found.
Gideon would never allow it.