Chapter 30 Labyrinth
THIRTY
Labyrinth
TIA
Tia’s lashes matted with tears. Ryker was onstage, living out his dream.
Her heart wept because this moment meant the world to him.
She blinked against joyful tears and clapped her hands together in a losing battle to contain her excitement.
Around her, the crowd surged back and forth with the energy of the band spilling off the stage.
It rolled over those gathered and swept her away with wild abandon.
Her body swayed. Her hands rose over her head. She danced while standing still.
The men and women gathered who fought for their country, who dealt with unimaginable stress day in and day out, let all their worries go beneath the thunderous power that was Angel Fire.
No one thought about deployment, separation from loved ones, or the dangers faced beyond the safety of the base’s perimeter fence.
For now, Angel Fire energized, invigorated, and pumped them up.
Soulful lyrics and pounding rhythms beat at the fear and loneliness, pushing them away—at least for a moment.
Now was the time to let go, scream at the top of her lungs, and dance. It was an evening to be free.
Now, that was a complicated word—free.
So much had changed in the past few days. Her rigid and structured regimen, which had consisted of alternating cycles of endless training, intense physical conditioning, and exhausting missions, had been flipped on its end after this last mission.
Her engagement with Scott had imploded in her face.
That Dear Jane letter had left her gasping and believing her entire world had ended.
The devastation left in the wake of Scott’s cold words had driven her to consider a senseless act of revenge.
All she had wanted was nameless sex with a man she could use and discard, using the same callous disregard Scott had shown her in his letter. She’d thought that would set her free.
Instead, she’d stumbled onto something unexpected. Ryker had been there all along, a protector turned lover and perhaps something much more. He left her breathless and in awe of his passion and ability to love.
The way the guitar was slung low on his hips had her aching all over again.
A mouth-watering feast of stacked muscles and rippling abs lay beneath his cotton T-shirt.
He plucked at the strings of his bass guitar, mesmerizing her and making her blush with memories of what those fingers had done over the past few days.
He caught her staring, grinned, and licked his lower lip.
Bastard had a way of knowing exactly what thoughts wandered through her mind.
The low notes of his bass riffs were difficult to pick out because they joined the overwhelming synergy of all the other instruments in play.
Angel Fire moved from one song immediately into the next without breaking to speak to the crowd.
An avalanche of sound rumbled through the hangar as Ash commanded the stage.
Ryker had no problem with holding his own beside the rock legends.
He ripped up the stage, playing off the others, dueling with Spike for a refrain, striding over to the keyboard to jam with Noodles.
He joined Bash at the drums and made full use of the stage.
A natural performer, he belonged in no other place.
Someone bumped into her from behind. Prepared to give whoever it was a nasty look, she glanced up, but Forest stared down, his lips bowed into a smile and the arctic hardness of his eyes sparked with excitement.
“They fucking rock!” he yelled.
His voice carried, and those around them roared with enthusiasm.
Forest planted himself firmly at her back, creating a small bubble of protective space around him.
She sank into that opening, thankful for a bit of respite from the crowd.
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
While those around her swayed to the beat of the music, Forest stood solid and unmoving with the exception of his head banging with the beat.
His eyes cut to the stage and focused on Ryker.
“I have to say, lover boy has the chops.” Admiration and respect carried on his words.
She craned her neck to look at Forest, wondering if he liked Ryker, tolerated Ryker, or wanted to punch Ryker in the face.
Less than an hour ago, she’d thought Forest would tear Ryker limb to limb.
The verbal thrashing Forest had given her after Ryker’s departure had left her stunned, but right now, it looked like Forest wanted to leap onstage and congratulate him.
A tug on her arm had her turning, and she smiled as Skye slipped into the empty bubble of space formed by Forest’s large frame.
She gripped Skye’s hand and tugged her close. “This is amazing,” she said.
Skye pitched her voice to be heard over the roar of the crowd. “Ryker’s incredible.”
More than amazing, his presence filled the stage without taking away from any of the others.
“He is.” Not that she’d been worried.
Angel Fire’s power thrummed in her veins.
She felt invincible, unstoppable, and most of all, free.
Ash broke from the pulsating beat to speak, thanking the troops for their service and the sacrifices they’d made.
He poured his heart behind the songs, and behind him, Ryker anchored the pounding swell of music meant for stadium-sized crowds.
Eventually, the concert ended, and with the ordered precision only the military could command, the troops filed out.
Grins as big as barn doors filled the faces of the men and women.
Fist bumps, high fives, and a general camaraderie drew them together.
The doors whispered closed. Lights turned on, and Smiley and his crew attacked the stage, making adjustments and resetting their pyrotechnic displays.
Angel Fire had another concert planned for the night.
The night shift had enjoyed the concert before their shifts began.
In another half hour, the day shift, relieved from their duties, would fill the hangar for the second show of the night.
Angel Fire would once again take to the stage and transport them to a place free from the worries of fighting war.
In this sliver of silence, Tia approached the stage. Ryker met her at the edge and reached down. He gripped her hands, and with the flex of his muscles, he pulled her up.
Forest cleared his throat when Ryker pulled her into his arms. That loud, raspy sound pulled them up short and made the almost embrace awkward.
She stepped back and nearly fell off the stage.
Ryker yanked her forward, pulling her against his chest. She pushed away, eyes darting to see who might be looking, terrified of what conclusions might be formed.
Forest leaped onstage. He rescued them from the awkwardness of their almost hug and tugged her out of Ryker’s hands. Ryker’s brows drew together, but he released her, allowing her to follow Forest, who dragged her to stand beside Ash and Bash at the drums.
“Fuck, that was awesome,” Forest boomed.
“You always say that,” Bash said with a flick of his eyes. Bash ripped off his white T-shirt and rubbed at the sweat beading on his face and scalp. He gave a wink to her. “Our number one fan, Forest says that anytime one of us breathes. Hell, whenever one of us farts or takes a shit!”
A deep, bellowing laughter burst from Forest. “I bet you take a shit in three-four time.”
Ash laughed hard enough, he bent over double. His arms crossed over his waist. “Ha! Bash shits in 3/4, 4/4, or whatever time.”
“Oh my God,” Bash said, “seriously!” He turned to her, perhaps looking for validation. “This is what I have to deal with.”
“You seem to deal with it fairly well,” she said.
Ryker joined them, and Skye trailed in his wake.
The petite woman stepped around Ryker and wrapped an arm around her husband. “I bet Bash pisses like a cymbal. One long, pealing note.”
Bash lifted his hands in the air in surrender. “Can we all just stop talking about me shitting and pissing?”
While everyone laughed at Bash and how musical his elimination patterns might or might not be, Ryker gave Tia the signal to fall back. It was something unique to their team and something no one would notice. He slipped away, moving toward the front of the stage.
She stepped to Skye and whispered in her ear. “I’m taking a powder break. Meet you where?”
Skye lifted Ash’s arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I’m sitting this one out. Feel a bit tired.”
“Want to meet for breakfast?”
“Yes,” Skye said. Her hand drifted to her belly and made a slow circle. “This trip is wearing me out.”
“Okay, we can talk more then?”
Skye had been drilling Tia on the finer points of what it took to make a surgical operations team effective.
Skye wanted Tia on that team, but Tia couldn’t conceive of a future away from the military.
Her job sucked most days, but it was a job she woke to every morning, full of conviction that it was exactly what she was meant to do.
Peeling away from the crassness of the men and their talk of piss and shit, Tia excused herself and disappeared around Bash’s drum kit. Stepping down the short flight of stairs, she found herself a few feet from the back door of the hangar.
The door opened and closed without making a sound, and she moved into the deepening dark of another dry Afghanistan night.
The air was thinner at this altitude. Lights flooded the airfield, illuminating the runways through all hours of the day, but still, the dusting of the stars shone down.
Into this darkness, she weaved her way between stacks of pallets arrayed in precise rows and columns.
Fourth row, fifth column—that had been the message Ryker telegraphed in the hangar.
With a crazy need to feel his touch again, she made her way between the labyrinth, stealthily picking her way into the night.
Sex on a stick?
Ryker was more than that. He was her every dream personified.
Memories of their last mission fluttered through her mind—the way he’d sheltered her with his body, the flirtatiousness of his expression, those dimples in his cheeks, and how he’d laid on top of her, willing to take a bullet intended for her.
He was her hero, a man who would protect, defend, and die for those he loved.
Gestures made in the real world were nothing but empty promises when stacked against the realities of war.
In the field, Ryker demonstrated his willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Scott would never have done that. Her ex-fiancé would’ve left her to burn in a building full of flames. What an idiot she’d been.