Chapter 19 Tarron
TARRON
I woke long before daylight and rolled from the bed, being careful not to jostle Payton awake in the process.
She grunted a soft, sleepy sound, and her hand slid from beneath the pillow.
She patted the bed, found Reed’s arm, and drifted off again.
Reed shot me a wide smile as he slid from beneath Payton’s hand and stood. Mav moved next, and the three of us stood at the edge of the bed, watching Payton sleep.
I almost crawled beneath the sheets for a few more hours of leisure time.
What else did we have to do?
And I absolutely loved spending time with Payton.
Habit pushed me into grabbing my pants and shirt, but I paused long enough to brush a kiss over Payton’s forehead.
Mav nudged me toward the door. “Let her sleep.”
“She had a late night.” Reed pushed my shoulder. “You should know, you were there.”
I pushed him back, making sure to avoid his injured shoulder, forcing him from the room before his laughter woke Payton. “I haven’t forgotten.” I poked his arm. “I need to look at that.”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “It’s fine.”
“Reed.” Mav barked his name in that no-nonsense tone that had both of us snapping to attention so fast my neck creaked.
Reed tapped his fingers to his forehead in a mockery of a salute that caused a muscle to pop in Mav’s jaw. He whistled on his way to the kitchen. “Come on, Tarron.”
“I’m not a dog.” I followed him because I was going that way anyway. I almost stopped and went another direction, just to keep the smirk out of sight.
It wouldn’t work.
Reed would find something else to comment on.
His sarcasm and lighthearted banter knew no bounds, something we’d discovered years ago.
It helped alleviate fear and tension, even though it often pissed me off.
Like now.
Reed turned sideways and patted his leg while making smooching noises. “Come on, boy. Come here.”
“I’m going to murder you in your sleep. Or shave off your eyebrows. And your hair.” I burst out laughing when he grabbed both sides of his head and gave a theatrical gasp.
“I’m making coffee. You two can have a cup when you stop acting like brats.” Maverick tried to keep a straight face, but he caved with a burst of laughter when Reed and I covered our mouths at the same time and wobbled forward a step with pretend shock.
“Idiots.” He muttered as he turned on his heel, but his laughter wound through the hallway.
“Asshole.” I shoved Reed toward the stairs.
He shoved me back, then tried to swing his arm around my neck in a headlock.
I reversed the move easily. Too easily.
Which meant he was in more pain than he let on. “Let’s get this over with.”
“You just want to see me naked.” Reed batted his eyelashes and puckered his lips. “Give us a kiss.”
“I’ve seen you naked. Not impressed.” I shook my head at him. “Stop trying to get out of it and let me see your wound.”
He grumbled and cursed but moved his shirt out of the way. The red, swollen flesh was a concern, but no streaking or drainage to indicate infection.
I poked at the edges. “You popped a stitch. Want me to fix it?”
“Does it need it?”
“Depends on whether you plan on lifting weights in the next few weeks. Or running for your life. I’d tell you to take it easy on that arm, but you’d rather stab yourself in the eye than do what I say.” I fixed the dressing and headed toward the kitchen. The rich aroma of coffee welcomed me.
Mav even held out a full cup when I entered the kitchen. “We need to plan.”
I sat at the counter, scalded my tongue on the hot coffee, and motioned for him to go ahead.
His tone of voice said he already had something in mind.
Reed joined us, shooting me a dirty look as he took a cup from Mav and joined me at the counter.
Maverick leaned his hip against the counter opposite us and stared toward the large windows covered in snow and ice.
The wind hadn’t stopped howling in days, and the constant barrage of snow built up against the front of the cabin. “How long should we give the storm?”
“It’ll blow over soon.” Reed–having been in Alaska with his Dad on multiple hunting trips–had the most knowledge of the weather conditions. “Few more days at most.”
“That gives us time to prepare.” Mav sipped his coffee and tucked his right hand into the front pocket of his cargo pants.
I hadn’t noticed the tremor until he tried to hide it. “Our extraction point in Anchorage is still viable, even though we’re severely off schedule.”
“How are we going to get there? We can’t possibly ride the boat the entire way. We’re too vulnerable out in the open. The woods offer decent protection, but we’d have to stop for fuel.” I rattled off the numbers, calculating how far we’d make it per tank.
Maverick’s eyes narrowed as he listened, and he set his cup on the counter, turning it around and around so it made low scratching noises.
“We’re miles away from our original course.” Reed pulled up a map on his phone and zoomed out. “We picked up Payton here.” He tapped the screen. “And extraction is here.” Another tap. “We were supposed to go here, but the fight and chase, combined with the storm, pushed us this way.”
I examined the screen with a nod. “He’s right. We’re way off course.”
“There’s a town several miles down this way. I might be able to walk in and buy enough gas to get us to the next location. But we’re at the mercy of the towns and their supplies once we walk out those doors.”
Not to mention, he had no way to carry the fuel unless he could drive the boat there.
“No matter what we plan, we have to wait out the storm. It’s too strong for us to travel safely.” He pointed at Reed. “Even going to town is off limits until the snow stops. You could get lost out there in these conditions.”
Reed held up both hands. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. I’m happy here.” His gaze slid toward the stairs, up to where Payton slept.
We’d enjoyed ourselves last night.
First in the kitchen, then in front of the fire, and finally in bed.
Nothing had been off limits, and I’d fallen asleep more satisfied than ever.
“At least the mercenaries won’t be hot on our trail.” Mav’s comment snapped me back to our predicament. “No one can travel in a storm like this.”
Reed’s shoulders hitched toward his ears, and he focused a little too hard on the coffee cup.
“Don’t bet our lives on that. Not knowing it’s Jack on our tail.”
I froze with my cup halfway to my lips. “What?”
Reed eyed Mav, then turned to me with a sheepish look.
“Shit, Tarron. Forgot to tell you. That’s how I got shot. Jack’s part of the mercenary group. And now he knows we’re the ones who took Payton from him.”
My body flushed hot, then cold. Adrenaline and fear fought for dominance. Adrenaline won, because fuck fear.
“We might have gotten a head start, but he has more resources and avenues of finding us.” Reed stood and refilled his coffee, holding out the pot toward me in silence.
I stretched across the counter and let him refill my cup, my mind scrambling for answers to an impossible situation.
“Who’s Jack?” Payton strolled in wearing one of my shirts and a pair of fluffy socks that stretched all the way to her knees.
Her blonde hair hung in loose curls, and her eyes held remnants of sleep that she rubbed away.
I’d never seen anyone more beautiful. She stole my breath, and was well on her way to stealing my heart.
Maybe she had already, because I was willing to do absolutely whatever it took to keep her safe and well out of Jack’s hands.
“He’s our old commander. The one who would have let Mav die.” I rushed the explanation, trusting her to remember and put the pieces together.
Payton’s eyes turned flinty. She sat on the stool next to me and wrapped both hands around my coffee cup, bringing it to her lips for a sip.
Her nose scrunched, and Reed rushed to make her a cup of coffee the way she liked it, with a splash of creamer and one spoonful of sugar.
He handed her the rich brew and stepped back.
“Too bad you didn’t get a chance to shoot him,” Payton grumbled around the coffee cup, handing my coffee back to me, and picking up the cup Reed set in front of her.
“Does he have black hair, brown eyes, and a scar right here?” She traced a finger across her chin.
I nodded. “That’s him.”
“He’s the one in charge. He’s not just part of the mercenaries. He’s the leader.” Her anger surged in a flush of color across her cheeks. “He’s the one who kidnapped me and took me to that awful place.” A shudder rippled across her shoulders.
I tried to comfort her with a hand on her back, my palm making circles across her spine and shoulders.
She leaned into it, but her breaths continued to come out short and sharp.
A grim tension tightened the air around us, drawing it close and trying to suffocate us with reality.
We were up against the worst kind of men, and the man who felt so threatened by one of his men that he’d been willing to let him die.
There was no justice for that.
“We stick to the plan.” Mav broke the silence with his typical commander’s voice.
It helped bring perspective to the situation.
We were former Rangers.
We had all the skills and experience to protect Payton.
I longed for revenge, but not at the risk of causing her harm.
I fisted my hands in my lap, working my fingers open and closed to help extract the anger.
“What’s the plan?” Payton asked.
We all looked at Mav for the answer.
As our leader, it was his right to keep Payton informed.
He washed out his cup, his attention splitting between talking to Payton and the storm outside.
“We wait for the storm to dissipate enough to reach your father on the satellite phone. Once he’s been informed of your safety and we have a set extraction place and time, we head out.
Your father had a helicopter waiting for us.
It’s probably still there, but I’d like verification before we trek all the way to Anchorage. ”
Payton nodded and finished her coffee. “Dad’s good about keeping his word. And the men who work for him are loyal. If he sent someone to pick us up, they’ll still be waiting.”
I loved her confidence.
From what we knew, it wasn’t misguided.
Frank Rivers was a good man, and he’d raised Payton well.
We were in for a long haul from the cabin to Anchorage, but she would not complain.
Payton took the punches life threw her way and didn’t let them drag her down.
She fought back and forged ahead with the kind of determination that made me proud to know her.
In all the women I’d met through the years, none of them held a candle to Payton.
Her resilience and tenderness created a uniqueness that had me falling for her.
I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out against the soft feelings bunching inside my heart.
They kept trying to break free, and I kept pushing them down. We’d rescued her from a hostage situation.
All feelings created during this time were born of that fear and might go away once we returned Payton to her world.