Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Sweat rolls down my forehead, dropping along the side of my face. Cold sweat.
Whew.
That was jacked.
It takes a good ten minutes for my muscles to unwind—to ease the clench they’ve got on my skeleton. When I can finally take a decent inhale, I slow the boat to an idle and step back to let Ally out of the hiding spot. “Get up here, hot mess.”
She scrambles away from me like she’s been shot out of a cannon. But there’s only so far she can go, and she bangs into the bed.
“Ouch!” she hisses loudly and almost drops my knife again.
“Good god, give me that before you stab yourself in the foot.”
She shrugs and passes my knife back to me…sharp end first.
Jesus.
I reach around and grab the handle. “Where is your brain?”
She blinks her hurt at me before she lets out a little growl. “Be nice.”
Well, fuck. Here I am being an asshole SEAL again.
I grunt and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sorry. I’m no good at this.”
Whatever this is.
I don’t even know how to be with a woman. Not now anyway. Once upon a time I think I did, but so much of me died when Hope did.
That depressing thought settles into my stomach with the weight of a concrete block.
With a questioning expression, Ally folds her arms. “I’m out of sorts, okay? That was scary!”
Every cell inside of me is drawn toward her, compelled by the need to wrap her up and comfort that hurt, angry, fearful pain out of her.
But I stay frozen, and she hugs herself tighter.
This time when she speaks, she’s spitting fire, and years of training tell me this is the beginning of a cathartic moment for her.
“I don’t freaking know what to do, or who to trust! Or where to go—I’m not even sure where to hide anymore.”
My protective instincts flame up, scorching through me, making my breath rasp, and my hands flex into tight fists.
“It’s okay Ally, I understand.”
“No. You don’t. How can you?”
What I feel for Allison is beyond duty. This feels innate. Primal. Locked in marrow, twisted within the coils of my DNA.
“You don’t have to make these decisions alone. I’m here.”
The promise hangs in the air. Hovering between us as she watches me, her expression morphing to wariness.
“Nice speech, Mortal Kombat.”
Fuck, me. I can hear the gray hair growing at my temples.
“I’ve been hired to keep you safe. You might not get the depth of what that means. But I will guard you with my life. Over and over again. With my knife. My gun. My bare hands. Whatever it takes. For however long it takes.”
Her lips part.
She glances at my fists, and the color on her high cheekbones deepens.
Silence lengthens between us before she swallows roughly.
“I would love to believe you. Honestly, I’ve never felt that kind of safety. But… but…” She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know who to trust, especially given that my father hired a company—your employer—to find me. You could just be taking me to him.”
This guts me.
“Are you safe with him?”
“My father? No.” She grimaces for a split second before glancing down. “I mean really, I don’t know. But I’d never go to him willingly.”
“Then trust me to help you get to the bottom of your problems. I only want to help you.”
When her arms wrap around her middle and the slope of her shoulders rounds, I feel her despair to the bottom of my gut.
“Allison.” I soften my tone. “You’re not alone now. You can count on me.”
Her hand returns to the hem of my shirt—the one she’s wearing—where she worries the tips of her fingers into the fabric. “Why aren’t you regrouping with your team?”
This, I don’t answer for the second time. Because I don’t fucking know.
I lean against the canopy’s pole and drop my attention to the floor.
Looking at her in my shirt is…
A very bad idea.
Then she rakes the coals simmering inside of me by using a soft, unsure voice and a question I’m not ready for.
“Am I safe here with you ?”
Rolling my neck, I answer honestly. “Depends on how safe you want to be.”
When I look up, she’s frozen, except for the way her tongue dances out, traces the corner of her lip and disappears.
From across the small deck, the heartbeat in her neck is visible. It’s rioting at a pace that matches mine.
“I need to use a phone.”
Jerking off the fabric I tied around me like a skirt, I toss it aside. “You’re out of luck on that one.”
She glances at the water, cogs turning. When she turns her attention to the shoreline, gauging the distance, I am certain she’s weighing the risks of going overboard.
Fucking hell, this woman. What person in their right mind that just got rag-dolled by a croc would do that?
“I wouldn’t jump overboard if I were you. It’s murky. Who knows what's in there? Besides, I’ll just drag you back.”
“Why do I believe that?”
“Because you already know I’m a man of my word. Now, have a seat, Ally. We have a lot to talk about.”
The brave little rabbit is back, standing her ground. “Okay, I go first. Why did you undress me?”
I already explained. So, I skip that one and get to the point that’s needling me in the brain. I need to know everything about this woman. “Why have you been in hiding when your father is trying to find you?”
More resolve tightens her shoulders, but a flicker of fear dances through her eyes. “What happens between me and my father is none of your business.”
“It is now , angel.”
That lands like a bomb between us.
“What does that mean?” Tugging the hem of the shirt, she stands ramrod straight, refusing to sit down, even though I’m trying to interrogate her, and fucking hell, trying to de-escalate her desire to jump overboard.
I do not want to go in the river after her. But fucking hell, I will. All damned day.
Irritation abrading my insides like sandpaper, I throw myself down onto the wooden bench.
“It means, everything about you is my business now.” That lump in my throat turns to a fiery rock filled with burning possessiveness. “When he hired us, you became our responsibility. My responsibility.”
“You're part of a team, though… Where are they?”
“Probably back at headquarters in Karma by now.”
A wary glance skitters to the riverbank again, and when the instant the realization that we are not heading toward town sinks in, she looks square at me. “Is that where you’re taking me?”
“Not right now.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
Hmm. Am I?
I let her question hang in the air before I speak. “Not by my definition.”