16. Strike
Strike
The early morning chill was chased away as Strike sipped his coffee and stared at the lake. Birds sang to each other as the sky welcomed dawn. He stroked Jeff, the labrador, as he rested his fluffy head in Strike’s lap.
Luke was driving to Wales with the tracker attached to the car. He’d leave it and get a train back to London. Cam would collect the car in a day or so. Strike ran through his list of safety protocols, but he’d ticked everything off the list.
There was nothing more he could do until they left for Cornwall that evening.
His chest rose and fell as he took deep breaths of fresh air, but it couldn’t dispel the stress that’d set in since Millie had returned to his life.
Being confronted with her pain gave him new reasons to hate himself.
He couldn’t go to her every time he felt that self-hatred. She didn’t owe him anything.
Last night was the Bodyguard Corp movie night. As one of Liss’s mental health initiatives, once a month, unless they were on a job, the team would eat dinner and watch a movie. They’d eaten together, with Stal on video call.
But gruff Stal, beaming with a baby in his arms, hadn’t been the highlight of Strike’s evening. That had been the opportunity to observe Millie.
For the two hours of the movie Spy—Millie’s choice, as it was her first movie night—he’d studied her.
When she laughed, he sensed his body lift with a smile.
When she gasped, he gripped his chair so he couldn’t run and hold her.
And when she giggled with Liss about the British spy, he’d nearly left the room to stop from throwing Millie over his shoulder and claiming her.
She’d glanced at him a couple of times under the darkness of the lounge, but he’d turned away every time, staring at the screen like he wanted to destroy his retinas.
But now, as spring sunshine slowly burned the mist off the water’s edge and the tips of bird wings glowed with ethereal gold, his mood slumped.
Exercising in the house gym until four a.m. hadn’t helped him get out of his head. Breathing exercises were pointless. But at least by the end of the day, he’d have Millie ensconced in Stal’s safe house.
I need to keep her safe and then say goodbye. For good.
The door to the house behind him clicked. He looked over his shoulder as Millie stepped out in leggings and Liss’s royal crown hoodie. Lycra clung to every perfect curve. Strike crossed his ankles as she stepped down the path to the deck.
He should be annoyed she hadn’t noticed him and wasn’t as scared about her safety as he was. Anything could happen. His pulse climbed. She was his to protect.
He tore his eyes away from her round ass to stop the other reactions in his body. Jeff lifted his muzzle, and Strike shook his head.
Millie tiptoed onto the deck and took a long breath, curving her back. Fuck, he wanted to make her back bow like that. He wanted everything she’d give him. When he’d touched her yesterday, her lips quirked in a way that made him want to imprint them with his.
He wanted to be soft and sensual and also to twist her hair around his fist, making her crave more.
Sipping his coffee, he fixated on how she stretched her neck, lifting her hair and tying it in a bun. The hoodie hid her neck from him, and he nearly grunted his displeasure.
He licked his lips slowly, the bitterness of his coffee doing nothing to ruin the sweetness of Millie’s body. “Morning.”
She jumped before turning slowly. He sipped his coffee so she didn’t catch him grinning. He liked getting a reaction out of her.
“You startle easy, Doc.” He flexed his thighs as she stared at his grey joggers.
She glared. “I didn’t think anyone would be up this early, soldier.”
“I need alone time when I’m staying here. It’s a thing from my days in the barracks.”
“I’ll leave you be,” she replied, rushing to return inside the house.
“No, stay. I should have company. Sometimes I get maudlin.” Millie hesitated. His voice cracked. “Please stay.”
“Just for five minutes.” She stared at where Jeff sat, stretched out on the bench. “Sometimes I need time, too, and it’s nice being close to nature.”
She shifted from one foot to the other. He dragged his gaze from her thighs.
What he’d do to have those wrapped around his head.
He hadn’t allowed himself to wake this horny in a long time.
When they got to Cornwall, he needed to avoid her in the mornings, or he’d have to jerk off in the shower all day.
“Sit. Your wriggling makes me nervous.” Nerves weren’t the issue.
“There’s nowhere to sit unless I use your lap,” she joked.
He took a deep breath and shifted his joggers slightly.
“Jeff, buddy, down.” The dog jumped off the bench and sat at Strike’s feet. Strike stroked his head, grounding himself in the softness of his fur.
“His name is Jeff? I didn’t mishear it before?”
“Liss and Bear think they’re hilarious. Who else would call their dogs Jeff and Roy?”
Millie sat. He glanced at her as she gazed at the water. It lapped against the deck and reminded him of teenage holidays spent at the beach.
“Liss and Bear are really in love, aren’t they?”
“Yes. I’m happy to see Bear like this. Liss is the one person worthy of him. I really like her. But don’t tell her I said that. She’d love it.”
Millie chuckled. “Your secret is safe.”
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re annoying, too, but I’ve never seen two people so in love since my parents.”
“Same.” She sighed softly.
The same way I always loved you.
“What did you say?”
He sucked in his cheeks. He was an expert bodyguard who kept politicians and world leaders safe, yet he accidentally spoke his thoughts aloud? “Do you want a sip?”
Strike held his mug out to her. She raised her eyebrow.
“It’s coffee. It’s safe, I promise.”
Millie’s lips twitched. “I’ll trust you, but just this once.”
She took it and held it between her hands, closed her eyes, and hummed.
Strands of hair had fallen from her bun. They lifted on the breeze. He cracked his knuckles, and she stared at him with a beady eye.
“You always liked strong coffee first thing,” he mumbled.
“And you always told me off for it while you drank basic cola.”
His chuckle turned guttural as she sipped the coffee, her throat pulsing with each swallow. Tiny drops of liquid sat on her lips, and she swiped them with her tongue and hummed again.
A thick heat filled his belly.
She handed his mug back to him. “I remember you hiding in my shed, drinking that cola, so your parents wouldn’t find out.”
“And you ate sherbet lemons so your dentist parents wouldn’t find out about your secret sugar fixes,” he countered.
She giggled, and a grin pulled up his lips.
“When I got to the army, I used to miss those mornings and evenings spent in your shed, talking about anything and everything.”
“I forgot how fluffy your hair is in the morning.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “You’re more like a dog than a brutish, grumpy bodyguard.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Brutish and grumpy? You’ve worked out my brand way too quickly.”
“You’re easy to read.”
“I hope not, Doc.” He smiled. “My thoughts would make you blush.”
“You’d be surprised.” Her eyes twinkled, and he fought the need to demand more.
Eventually, they settled into a comfortable silence as she sat back against the bench.
“It smells so good out here. This is the opposite of my small apartment in London. I don’t know why I moved there.”
“Sometimes, we make decisions that appear right at the time. It’s good to get away, though, especially with your job.
You spend your life helping others and ensure they’re listened to and respected.
Don’t forget to give yourself therapy.” She gawked at him.
“I have a place in London, too, but I miss the countryside and the water.”
He breathed in the scent of fir trees, water, and flowers. He wasn’t going to remind her of the night they’d gotten together in a forest, but his memories were relentless.
She glanced at him and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Do you remember that camping trip we took, the one where you… said what you said?”
At least he wasn’t the only one plagued by the past. “The second happiest night of my life? Yeah, daily.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “It was a good sunset that night,” she stuttered. “Those teenage years were nice. We had our worries, but it was nothing like this.”
She scratched Jeff behind his ears.
Strike stared at the lake where birds skimmed it while others bobbed.
“I’m sorry again. I wish I’d been there for you when Casey and her group bullied you.
I wanted to rage when you said they laughed about you in the toilets.
I would have lost it if I’d heard that. She’s different now, but that doesn’t change what she and her friends did to you. What did they say?”
Millie shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Strike,” she whispered.
“Please.” He reached out his hand.
She turned to him and dropped her gaze, fiddling with her hoodie pockets.
“They said I was a hanger-on. You were desperate to get away from the cringey limpet. Your charity case.” She swallowed and briefly pulled in her lips before adding, “They said you joined the army to escape me. They giggled as they pretended to be your army buddies, laughing about the loser who’d cry herself to sleep over her crush. ”
A thickness hit his throat. They’d hurt her, and he’d been complicit by not being there for her.
Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. His hand cupped her face, and he lifted her glasses, pushing away her tears with his thumbs.
“It was never like that. Look at me, Sunset, please.”
Staring at her sorrow, his throat burned with sadness. She held her breath. Her eyelashes fluttered as she studied him.
“Mixie, you were my sunrise and my sunset. Every day with you was a day I didn’t deserve. I’d wake wondering if you were already milling around your room so I could hold up signs to send messages to you. I’d rush to get ready to walk to school with you.”
“Seriously?”
“I was a whirlwind in the mornings.” Strike smiled softly.
“Other days, I thought you’d be embarrassed by the jock who didn’t know his Jane Austen from his Stephanie Meyer.
You were so intelligent—are intelligent—and always helping people, and yet I was just the guy who made you laugh.
I was lucky to call you a friend and then to call you mine. ”
Her jaw dropped, and his thumb brushed her lip. Her tongue followed, and he observed it in fascination.
As the wind tousled her hair, he glanced between her lips and her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t open that box, because he wasn’t the person she needed.
She was the only woman he’d ever loved, ever had sex with.
Right now, he wanted to drag her onto his lap and kiss her with the years of pent-up need. But he’d seen too much suffering. It would leak out if he was with someone as perfect as her and destroy her goodness.
“And yet you left me,” she whispered as she pulled away from him and put her glasses on properly.
His shoulders sank. He leaned back, retrieving his coffee mug from the ground and rubbing Jeff’s belly.
“Well done for your research. I read your email. You’re a little demon at getting secrets from people.” Strike sat back in the seat, propping his ankle onto the knee of his other leg.
“It was nice to feel actively part of this. So what’s happening today?” she asked, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m expecting calls from the people I tried to contact yesterday. And we’re heading to Cornwall?”
“Yes. In terms of your phone, Luke reckons it could take up to a week to sort it, and the further we are from where people expect us to be while he does that, the better. In the meantime, Casey will investigate covertly. She’s visiting the stabbed guy in the hospital, too, to find out his prognosis.
If he states Hugo attacked him, you’re safe. ”
“What if I give a statement?”
“No fucking way,” he snapped. “It means going to the police station. It’s not safe.”
“Then make it safe. Researching isn’t enough. I want to return to my old life.” The words and get away from you were implicit.
“I’m protecting you. I’m your bodyguard. If I’m to keep you safe, you do as I tell you.”
She stood, and so did he. That she wasn’t scared of him or his height, made his heart beat a little faster.
“If I make a statement, we don’t have to go to Cornwall.
This could be over, and we can go our separate ways.
I can’t guarantee I’m going to find a connection.
I need to get home. Don’t take away my agency. ”
“Excuse me?”
“I can make decisions about my life. If you’re that good of a bodyguard, you should be able to protect me when I do this.”
“Don’t test me, Doc.” But also do, because I like it. His heart thrummed.
She set her jaw, and he’d never wanted to kiss it more. “I’m making a statement to the police. You can help me, or I can get someone else to.”
“We’re doing it my way. There’s no room for conversation.”
Heat coiled in his belly when she scowled at him. He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid.
“My. Way.” He turned on his heel. “Jeff, with me.”
But Jeff nudged Millie for strokes.
Strike grunted, digging his fingers into his palms, and walked away.