Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
August 23 rd
2:38 A.M.
Chaos.
Pure bedlam erupted in the cabin when Becca fell to the floor and somehow managed to take one of the men down with her.
It was the chance that Connor had been waiting for, and he didn't hesitate to grab hold and run with it.
While he absolutely hated how mouthy Becca had been with the men, at the same time he was incredibly proud of her for refusing to cower and showing everyone how powerful and strong she was, his heart just couldn’t handle the fear, she’d caused an unexpected consequence. The men had been so focused on her, so irritated that she wasn't cowering at their feet begging and pleading for her life that they hadn't been smart.
Not immediately restraining both him and Becca, but at the very least him if they wanted to taunt him with images of Becca being assaulted, was the biggest mistake they could have made.
Now they were paying for it.
Coming in low, using the fact that the cabin was still almost pitch black and the men didn't appear to be wearing any NVGs, to his advantage, Connor plowed his shoulder into the nearest man, taking them both down.
They tussled, but Connor had something the other man didn't.
Rage.
This was a job to these men. Nothing more, nothing less. They had likely been looking forward to it, enjoying the free rein to do whatever they wanted to a helpless woman, no rules, no holding back. It would feed their sick desires, but they weren't invested in this the way he was.
Connor wasn't just fighting for his life.
Wasn't even fighting just for Becca’s life.
He was fighting for his future.
For everything he’d always wanted, everything he’d always dreamed about, everything he’d had and ruined by one moment of letting his emotions and fears get the best of him.
There was no way he could lose.
So he threw punch after punch, aware of the sounds of people scrambling around him. He had no idea where Becca had gone, but he sincerely hoped she’d managed to tuck herself away someplace where no one would be able to find her.
Arms locked around his neck, dragging him backward.
He was throbbing all over because the man he’d been beating had gotten in a few hits of his own, but none of it was enough to disable him.
Ramming his elbows backward into the man’s stomach, shoving the air from his lungs, he slammed his head backward at the same time, and was rewarded with a pained yelp that told him he’d just broken the other man’s nose.
Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, he broke free of the man’s hold and slammed his fist into his assailant’s neck, dropping him instantly.
The man he’d been beating on was still down, dead possibly, at the least disabled, and no longer a threat. That still left two other men in the cabin somewhere.
As much as it was helping him, the dark was still a hindrance, he could see shadowy figures moving about but it was more instincts than anything else that had him throwing himself sideways right before a bevy of bullets rained down on the spot he’d just been standing in.
Keeping low, he circled the cabin to where the shots had been fired from and heard muted whispers as the remaining two men obviously tried to figure out a plan where they didn't wind up dead along with everyone else.
Not happening.
None of them were leaving there alive.
“Where is he?” one man muttered.
“Has to be here somewhere,” the other said.
“How did he take down Smoke and Roller so quickly?” the other asked.
“He’s a SEAL, thinks he’s better than us,” the other replied.
“He is better than us,” the first said, a thread of fear in his voice.
“No, he’s not. Find the girl. We get the woman then we control the man.”
Please be somewhere safe, moonlight.
As the two men shifted further away from him, Connor aimed for the closest one and pounced.
With the dark obscuring a clear view of anything, although he was able to deliver a blow to the man’s head it wasn't enough to take him down, and he spun, raising his weapon.
Aiming for the man’s arm, he grabbed his wrist and elbow and yanked both in the opposite directions, hearing the satisfying sound of bone snapping as the man howled in agony, the weapon clattering to the wooden floor, skidding off into the dark.
As Connor was about to finish him off, two shadowy figures moving toward him stopped him in his tracks.
“I wouldn't do that if I was you,” the man who had been so confident that he had what it took to destroy Connor despite his superior training said in a sing-song voice. “Not unless you want me to blow the brains out of her pretty little head.”
Despite the dark, he could make out Becca’s much smaller frame angled in front of the man’s larger one. He could also make out the outline of a weapon held pressed against her temple.
One shot was all it would take to end Becca’s life.
To snatch her away from him and if that happened, he would much rather join her in death than live out the rest of his life without her.
Because he had no other choice he froze, holding himself perfectly still so that the man who had Becca in his grasp would see that he was complying and removing himself as a threat.
“Kill them, Connor. Go for the gun,” Becca shouted, her voice so brave, so strong despite the fact there was a gun to her head, that his heart swelled with love for her.
“He can't, beautiful,” the other man taunted. “He moves, you die.”
“I don’t care. So long as you die too then it’s worth it,” Becca spat back. “Besides, he already took down three of you. You really think he can't take down you as well?”
“Not if he wants to keep you breathing he won't,” the man told her. “Deakin, you okay, man?”
A groan was the only response the man whose arm he’d just broken gave, but now he knew at least one of the other men in the room were still alive. He doubted that the man he’d struck in the neck was, and the man he’d been beating he’d give a fifty-fifty chance of still breathing.
“Okay, here’s what's going to happen. You're going to get down on your knees, I’m going to throw you some handcuffs, and you're going to cuff your arms behind your back. Then you're going to stay on your knees while I tie up your girl. One wrong move and I shoot her. I’m thinking I’ll start with her kneecaps and see where I go from there,” the man with the gun informed him.
It went against everything he had been trained to do, but when the handcuffs clinked onto the floorboards in front of him, he picked them up.
He’d snapped one end around his left wrist when he felt it.
A change in the atmosphere.
Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but as soon as he felt the shift a bullet whizzed through the air.
Fear for Becca had him lunging toward her despite the possible risk. Just as he snatched her into his arms, he realized it was the man who’d been holding a gun to her head who had been shot.
Was it deliberate or did someone hit the wrong target because of the lack of visibility?
He got his answer a moment later when light suddenly flooded the cabin as several torches lit up and multiple people came strolling in.
“You're welcome, bro,” Cooper’s voice called out and Connor relaxed.
“Guess it wasn't the storm that took out my generator,” Cade grumbled as he no doubt took in the mess of blood and bodies littering his cute little cabin.
“I've got four dead but this one’s still alive,” Jax announced.
One alive.
Perfect.
That was exactly what they needed.
Relief was so strong it almost stole his breath. They were still alive, he hadn't lost Becca, hadn't lost the second chance she had gifted him.
“Moonlight?” he asked as he shifted his hold on her.
In the stark light of the flashlight beams, she looked much too pale, they were both still wet, and he could see lines of pain bracketing her mouth. But she was alive and that was a win as far as he was concerned.
“I'm okay,” she assured him as her gaze roamed him, no doubt searching for additional injuries other than the gunshot wound she already knew about.
“We’ll get your shoulder put back in for you, sweetheart,” he said, stroking his hand down her wet hair then palming her cheek. “Cole, I need your help. Becca has a dislocated shoulder.”
“Let me see, honey,” Cole said as he hunkered down beside him.
“How’d you know we needed help?” Connor asked his little brother.
“Your girl here called Cade to tell him about the generator going out,” Cole replied.
“I wasn't sure he heard me say that I didn't think it was the storm,” Becca said.
“He got that and rallied the troops. We got here as soon as we could, but it seems you guys mostly had things under control. Mostly,” Cole added in a teasing tone. “Still needed our help though.”
“You guys saved Becca’s life, I can't ever thank you enough for that,” Connor said, finding it difficult to get the words out past the lump in his throat.
“Nah, no need for thanks. You all helped me with Susanna, and we all helped Coop with Willow. I’d say we’re pretty even. All right, Bec, let’s get this shoulder back in place for you, that should help a lot with the pain,” Cole told her as he placed a hand on her shoulder and shifted so he would be able to manipulate it back into the socket. Connor moved too so that between the two of them they’d get it done quicker.
“Connor, wait!” Becca cried out, and he froze.
“What? What's wrong?” he demanded.
She chewed on her bottom lip in the most adorably uncertain way. “Before you … put it back in, I need the penis.”
August 23 rd
2:44 A.M.
“You need the what?” Cade demanded, almost choking himself.
Becca felt her cheeks heat. Right. She hadn't thought how that would sound saying it out loud to a bunch of men who weren't aware—at least she didn't think they were—of her and Connor’s little collection of penis stuffies.
Connor threw back his head and laughed. “She means my penis.”
“Your what?” In the dim light of the torches, Cooper’s eyes about bugged out of his head.
“You're incorrigible,” she told Connor, swatting at his shoulder with her good hand. “He doesn’t mean his penis.” At least not yet, although she would for sure need it later when the adrenaline wore off and the fear settled in. “I meant the plushie that he brought me. It’s upstairs in the bedroom, and I … wouldn't mind holding onto it while you put my shoulder back in.” It was a poor comparison to having the real thing in her mouth, but that wasn't appropriate when his brothers were in the room with them so she’d settle for the toy.
“I’ll go get it,” Cole offered, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Thank you,” she whispered, a little mortified that she’d just blurted that out in front of men she considered brothers. Becca decided she’d blame it on the exhaustion that weighed heavily against her body, the throbbing pain that pounded through her, and the fact that she and Connor had almost died in this room.
Never would she forget the feel of the cold metal pressed to her temple.
It wasn't the first time she’d been close enough to death to feel it curl its fingers around her life, squeezing just enough for her to realize the strength of its power.
But it was the first time that Connor had been right there.
When Dylan Sanders had assaulted her, she’d been alone. When she’d been in the cabin earlier and threatened with rape and death she’d been alone, even when she’d gone over the edge of the cliff, she’d been alone even though Connor had been close by. But this, he would have gotten a front seat to every horrific second of torture and she couldn’t seem to get over that.
Maybe because she knew how much she couldn’t have coped with watching him be killed and she knew just what she’d been asking of him to not cave and give the men what they wanted no matter what they did to her.
“Here you go, Bec,” Cole said as he pushed the penis plushie into her hand.
Immediately, she felt some of her tension recede. This really wasn't as good as having Connor’s in her mouth, but it was better than nothing. Enough at least to get her through the next few unpleasant moments.
“Won't take long, moonlight,” Connor assured her, and she managed a nod for him because the last thing she wanted to do was worry him when she knew he must be feeling as exhausted and emotionally strung out as she was.
Lifting the plushie to her face, she brushed it across her cheek and closed her eyes, doing her best to imagine the silly toy was really Connor. Trying to ignore it as Connor and Cole positioned themselves by her dislocated shoulder, it hurt, but somehow it was the fear of how badly it was going to hurt when it was put back into place that was worse.
It was over quicker than she would have thought.
A muted grunt of pain as they manipulated the joint and suddenly it was back in and the pressure in her shoulder was gone. It still hurt, but it wasn't the pulsing pain that had been there when it was popped out.
“You did amazing, baby girl,” Connor whispered, nuzzling her cheek alongside the plushie while Cole slipped a sling around her neck and tucked her arm into it.
That helped ease the pressure in her shoulder even more and now wave after wave of exhaustion was buffeting against her. All she wanted was to change into dry clothes, crawl into a warm bed, feel Connor’s body wrapped around her, and sleep for a week.
Soon, but not yet.
Fighting against the weariness weighing her down, Becca blinked open heavy eyes. “Connor got shot,” she told his brothers.
“What?” Cole asked sharply.
“It’s fine. Flesh wound. Becca was more important,” Connor said like it was obvious.
“I’m all taken care of now,” she told the man she loved. There were other wounds she was sure she had, bruises, scratches, she hurt all over, so it was hard to narrow anything down to any particular location. But she was okay. She wasn't going to die from any of those injuries and she was worried that Connor’s gunshot wound was worse than he’d been letting on.
Just because he’d pulled her up the side of the cliff and carried her back to the cabin didn't mean that his wound wasn’t serious. She knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for her, including downplaying an injury so she didn't worry.
“Can you check him out please?” she asked Cole.
“I'm fine,” Connor insisted.
When she looked up at his face, dirt-streaked, hair still wet and sticking up at weird angles, lines of exhaustion bracketing his mouth, Becca found tears flooding her eyes. She could have lost him tonight. They’d been so close. If his brothers hadn't shown up when they did, she had no doubts she’d be dead by now. She’d pushed too hard, and the men were itching to take her out.
“Please,” she whispered as she chewed on her bottom lip to hold in a sob even as a couple of tears rolled free.
“Okay, honey.” His hand swept down from the top of her head, settling on her cheek where his fingers caressed her skin for a moment before he nodded to Cole.
With worried eyes, she watched as Cole probed Connor’s shoulder, watching for signs that the man she loved was in more pain than he’d been letting on. But she didn't see any tightening of his mouth, and Connor didn't grunt or whimper in pain. Didn't do anything, just held her steady gaze until Cole finished his examination.
“He’s good, Becca,” Cole assured her. “You both need a hospital but he’s okay.”
“Just a flesh wound?” she checked.
“Just a flesh wound,” Cole repeated.
“Cole, can you take her out to the car,” Connor asked.
“Why can't you? Where are you going?” she demanded, panic making her voice shriller than she’d intended. But after the last few hours, the last thing she wanted was to be away from Connor for any reason for even a single second.
“There’s something I have to do but I’ll be with you in a moment,” Connor told her, his gaze flitting over to where Jake and Jax were standing over the only man who had survived, and she knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to question the man, get answers any way he could, and he didn't want her to see it.
“Can't they do that?” she asked, hating to be needy now that it was all over when she’d been able to be confident and strong while in the middle of their ordeal, but she was crashing quickly. Everything was sinking in, what had happened, what could have happened, and she didn't want to be alone.
“I need to do this, moonlight. They were going to torture you and kill you. I won't be long, okay? Promise. And Cole and Cooper will go with you.”
When she managed a small nod, Connor leaned in and kissed her, then nodded to Cole when he pulled back. Cole scooped her up, carrying her outside. It was still raining and even though the car was fairly close to the cabin, she was drenched all over again by the time Cooper opened the back door of the SUV and Cole slid her in.
While Cooper climbed in beside her, tucking a blanket around her, Cole got in the front and turned on the engine, blasting the heaters as high as they’d go. It didn't really help. A chill had settled inside her, and only Connor could warm it up.
Keeping the plushie clutched in her hands, stroking it against her cheek, Becca did her best to imagine it was really Connor. She needed him now, in a way she couldn’t have him until they were alone, but at least she could curl into his side, reassure herself that he was alive, she was alive, and their second chance hadn't been stolen.
A scream ripped through the night, howling above the roar of the wind and she clenched her eyes closed.
Another followed and another.
Cooper turned her into his arms, and she burrowed into him. It wasn't that she didn't understand why Connor was trying to get answers any way he could, she did, his whole family wasn't safe while these men were still out there. The man deserved whatever he’d got as well, it was just there had been so much pain and blood tonight and she just wanted it to be over.
Could have been minutes could have been much longer, but eventually the door opened and Connor slid into the seat beside her.
Immediately, she was on his lap, wrapped up in his arms, and snuggled against him. “Did you get answers?”
“Said he didn't know who hired them,” Connor replied.
“Do you believe him?”
“Yeah. He and his friends are all former military. All had trouble with the law since they got out and hung around together at a local bar. Someone paid them a lot of money to come here tonight and torture and kill you, then kill me but pretend they’d kidnapped me. Use sending your body to my brothers as a threat of what they’d do to me if they didn't back off.”
“But they didn't,” she reminded him, feeling the tension in his hard body.
“No, they didn't.” His lips touched the top of her head, and his arms banded around her, and for the first time all night, she felt safe.
Safe with Connor.
Always.
All of her.
Even her heart.