CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MARSHALL
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Pop.
We got him. Al-Kharafi is dead. Better still, I got him. So at least I can say I completed my last mission if I end up six feet under.
Apparently, bleeding out makes me dramatic.
I collapse to the ground and let the Delta operators take over.
After three hours of chasing them, it’s over.
Mickelson drove into the side of their SUV, almost taking us all over a cliff. Fortunately, both vehicles slid to a stop with the enemy’s tilting and eventually flipping onto its side.
Thank god, they couldn’t get away.
I was drained from the blood loss and my sight was blurring, but the moment I saw Al-Kharafi climb out sunroof and start running, I ripped Rodrigues’s gun out of the palm of his hand and pointed.
Then shot.
Al-Kharafi dropped to the ground. I opened my door and walked as I kept shooting. Then another as I stood over him, right in the center of his forehead.
“Photo,” I called out.
“Right beside you,” Forte said and handed me his phone. “Took a couple.”
I collapsed to the ground.
Then, sitting in the dust of the desert, I synced our phones, grabbed the file and then sent them to Josh with the words: mission complete.
Then, and only then, I let myself pass out.
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THE FLIGHT HOME to the United States was long and, despite the army medic stitching me up, the first place I’m taken is the hospital.
There was no shower before being airlifted just a few miles from where we took down Al-Kharafi, so I can still feel the sand all over me. Even the change of clothes didn’t help.
They don’t fit well so that isn’t helping.
I just want to get home, have a shower, beer, and huge steak.
And then respond to the text message I’ve read a dozen times since connecting to the US network when we landed.
From Trina.
Marshall. Where the fuck are you? Tell me you’re okay or I swear I will kick your damn ass.
I grin again.
“Here we go,” the nurse says, handing me a bottle of antibiotics. “Two a day for seven days. You should be okay as the wound is nice and clean, but if it does get infected please see your doctor immediately.”
It will be fine. I’ve had flesh wounds before.
This one is pretty deep, but I can move my arm well enough so it’s just another scar to go with all the other.
I slide off the table and reach for my shirt, hating that I have to put it back on.
God, I want a shower.
“Hey home boy.” I hear a familiar voice and turn. “Heard you were hanging out with some of my buddies.”
I grin when I see Ryder.
“Yeah. Their party sucked.”
He snorts.
Then I freeze, my hand halfway into the sleeve of the T-shirt as I watch Trina circle around the former Delta Force operator.
My god she’s beautiful.
Her text was pretty to the point, but it didn’t portray the true emotion that sparkles from her worried eyes.
Well, well, well.
I think my little wolf might care.
And I don’t like that she was worried about me, knows whatever it looks like she knows, and is here. I’m happy as fuck to see her, but why is she here?
Ryder thumbs over his shoulder. “Couldn’t get this one off my back so she insisted she drive.”
“Well, have you been in a car with him?” Trina crosses her arms.
All her little lies are covers for a vulnerability and I’m starting to figure her out.
“Miss me, little wolf?” I smirk, as her eyes run over my abs and dilate. I wait a few seconds longer before I dress, enjoying the impact I’m having on her. She chews her bottom lip, then seems to snap out of it. Abruptly. Clearly she doesn’t like that she’s given away so much.
“You know what they say, keep your enemies closer and all that.” Trina shrugs casually.
Ryder laughs and grabs my big duffel bag, hoisting it over his shoulder. I’m glad for the assistance as my arm is hurting like fuck.
“Don’t stop taking those antibiotics,” the nurse says as we walk out.
I wrap my good arm around Trina’s shoulder as we follow the Ryder down the hall and whisper in her ear. “I missed you too, if it makes any difference.”
She doesn’t shrug me off. In fact, I am almost certain she slightly sinks into my hug.
A few seconds later, Trina lifts her face, and despite the height difference, we’re close enough for me see the full emotion in her eyes. It almost takes my breath away.
It’s fury and wild.
“I thought you were dead.” Her voice is rough, but soft as if holding back all I can see inside those blue globes.
“I’m hard to kill, little wolf.”
Our eyes remain locked as Ryder presses the elevator button. So many unsaid things pass between us as I drop my arm and run a finger over her forehead to brush away a stray lock of hair.
“He is,” Ryder says. “I’ve tried a dozen times.”
I wink at Trina, and she rolls her eyes at both of us.
Somehow my hand rests on her lower back and because she hasn’t pushed me away, I’m not moving it.
“Tell Josh if he wants a briefing he can wait until tomorrow morning. I need a shower.”
“He’s not expecting you.” Ryder suddenly pulls his phone out of his pocket and glares down at it. “Are you kidding me?”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Problem?”
“Yeah, apparently a dark chocolate emergency. What is this?” He holds up the image on his screen.
Trina grabs his hand and angles the phone her way. An odd sensation fills my chest. I do not like her touching him. Despite being a married man, the fact she has her hands on another male is triggering me.
That’s new.
“Mr. Mister’s chocolate nuts? She wants them now?” Trina groans.
He nods. “Yup. Where do we get them?”
Another message beeps.
“We aren’t getting them. They are only sold on the other side of the city.” Trina shakes her head. “I need to get this guy home.”
I couldn’t agree more. My shower is calling my name. I have sand from Kuwait in my butt cheeks. I am not driving around so Savannah can get some special celebrity whatever goddamn chocolate nuts she’s craving.
I also need to take these pain meds and get a good night’s sleep.
“Look, I can grab an Uber—”
“No,” they both say.
“I’ll grab one. Trina can take you home.” Ryder glances between us then focuses on her. “Think you can do that without killing him? We just got him home.”
I twist my mouth in a grin waiting for her response.
“I can’t promise. But if he doesn’t talk on the way home there is a higher possibility.” She lifts a shoulder.
Man, I have missed her.
Laughing, we take the elevator down to the ground floor. I shake Ryder’s hand, and he kisses Trina on the cheek—risking his life once more—then hands me my duffle bag.
Why does he need to keep fucking touching her?
“I’ll take it.” Trina tries to intervene, and I ignore her, lifting it above her head and throwing it over my shoulder with my good arm.
I don’t miss her eyes taking in my bulging bicep.
Hashtag, not sorry.
“It’s twice the size of you, don’t be ridiculous.” She props out a hip.
“Andddd, it begins again. Do not fucking kill one another.” Ryder waves out a hand and walks off.
I stare down at Trina and she finally breaks, muttering as she walks to her car. “Fine. No talking.”
I stare at the small blue Toyota and scrunch my face.
“How the fuck did Ryder fit in there?”
“Just get in, unless you want to walk?”
“No thanks. I just walked hundreds of miles across—”
I stop talking.
Shit. That was nearly a big fucking slipup.
I toss my bag in the back seat and climb into the passenger seat. Trina gets behind the wheel and my eyes slide over her body. She must have come straight from work as she’s wearing a tight black skirt and blush-pink silky blouse. I can see the curve of her breasts and hint of cleavage.
Oh yeah, these are the soft curves I’ve been dreaming about for days.
“Eyes on the road soldier,” she says, but there’s little heat in her words. In her eyes...
“Why? I’m not driving.” I smile and turn to look out the windshield.
After a few minutes as we head toward my home, Trina finally breaks the silence and glances at me briefly. “So, are you okay?”
I swear this woman is going to give me whiplash.
“I am now.” I nod.
Does she realize I mean now that I’m with her? She won’t. While I was shocked to see her at the hospital and I’m still not clear what she knows, the fact she came with Ryder to pick me up says something.
Something she is not willing to admit out loud.
Trina bites her bottom lip, holding back from asking more questions or saying how she feels. I know what it feels like to worry about my buddies in the forces. I can only imagine how it feels to be on the sidelines with almost no information and fretting.
Whatever this is between us, and despite it being new, that doesn’t mean her worry isn’t valid.
Yes, we have sexual chemistry that’s off the charts, but I’m beginning to think there is much more going on between us. That she’s here right now with me confirms it.
At least in my mind.
I reach out my hand, place it on her thigh, and squeeze. She does a double take at me and slows for an intersection.
“Hey,” I rasp. “It’s okay to be worried. I don’t know what the team told you, but I am fine.”
“They said you were shot. That’s not fine.”
Fair call.
Trina tries to push me my hand away, but I grab her fingers, and her eyes lock with mine.
“They didn’t tell me a single thing, Marshall. Nothing. Do you know how that feels? You kiss me then go to some dumb country and get shot? What if you’d died? I can’t yell at you if you’re dead.”
I want it noted for the record that I don’t laugh and it’s one of the hardest things I have ever done. Goddamn, I want to smile.
I want to kiss her and laugh and swing her around.
Instead, I nod and ask an important question. “Who was in the military?”
“What?”
“Who. Was. In. The. Military? That you cared about? Or care about, little wolf.”
Present tense.
Damn, it suddenly occurs to me that she might still have this person in her life. Perhaps there’s a guy. An ex. Or someone that won’t let her go.
Is that why she’s not willing to date anyone else?
I don’t like that one little bit.
“A lot of people,” Trina replies as the traffic starts moving. It’s such a bullshit answer.