Rogue Protector, page 14
Her smile holds a bit of strain, but still, it’s more relaxed than I’ve seen since our date. “My wardrobe out in the field is pretty basic. Khakis, tank tops, flannel. I didn’t expect to meet anyone.” A flush spreads up her neck to her cheeks, and she sinks down onto the bed and unzips the suitcase I set there for her. “Not that I dress much differently at home.”
“Mik.” I crouch in front of her, my hands on either side of her thighs. Her bare thighs. Other than the various bruises, her skin is perfect. Soft. Smooth. She doesn’t pull away, despite only wearing shorts and a tight t-shirt, and I love how much more comfortable she is with me now. “You don’t have to impress me with clothes or make-up or…anything. I hope you know that.”
“You’ve seen me at my worst,” she says softly. “And for some reason, you’re still here. That’s pretty strong scientific evidence.”
“I’m still here because I care for you.” The words break something loose inside me, and dammit. I have to start letting her in—despite how much I wish I could keep my pain locked away. “The past few years have been difficult. I don’t think I even realized how difficult until I left my post. But when I came down to Mexico and suddenly had all of this time…alone? I’m fucked in the head, Mik. On an epic scale. And I’m terrified that once you know just how epic, you’re going to run away and I’ll never see you again.”
My admission stirs a storm of emotion in her brown eyes, making the copper flecks shine brighter, and she leans forward and kisses me. It’s gentle, almost sweet, but full of understanding, of need, of the reassurance I’m desperate for—that she’ll give us a chance when we’re back in the real world. The one where no one wants her dead, and we can just be. Two people with a connection forged during the most intense circumstances, who just maybe…can help one another heal.
Her stomach growls, putting an end to the tender moment. Mik’s cheeks flush a shade darker, and she presses her hand to her belly and offers me a sheepish smile. Pushing to my feet, I head for the phone to order us the biggest breakfast this hotel has to offer.
Ninety minutes later, Mik pokes her head out of the steam-filled bathroom. “Um, Austin? I could use a little help.”
Zipping up my ruck, I turn and lose my words entirely. She’s wearing a pair of slim black pants and gray socks, but though she brought a maroon tank top in with her, she has a towel clutched to her chest instead. “What do you need?”
Her face is redder than I’ve ever seen it, and she turns around, revealing her unhooked bra. “I can’t…” Her voice fades as she stares down at the floor.
I stop with my hands inches from her back. The bruises look so much worse today, and shit. She’s going to be miserable sitting on a plane for five hours. “I have some arnica in my bag. Will you let me put some on you before I do up your bra?”
“Arnica?” She peers back at me, uncertainty playing over her features.
“Yeah. Friends turned me on to it. Works wonders on bruises. Take a seat on the bed.”
Mik sinks down onto the mattress, and—fuck me—lowers the towel. She’s still holding her bra in place, but this is the most comfortable she’s ever been with me.
Don’t screw it up.
Sitting behind her, I warm a bit of the arnica in my palms and then start at her shoulders.
With every inch of her skin I touch, she relaxes by a degree, until I’m massaging only a couple of inches above her waistband. Back up again until I secure the clasp of her bra, then wrap my arms around her from behind. “Your back should start to feel better soon.”
“It already does.” Twisting in my embrace, she cups my cheek. I was finally able to shave today, and her thumb skates over the smooth skin. “Too good to be true.”
“I’m not. There’s so much I still need to tell you, Mik.” The thought of losing her now, after all we’ve been through, after hiking for hours in the pouring rain searching for her, after strapping her to my back and scaling a cliff, after carrying her, unconscious, through the jungle… If she runs from me once she knows the truth, I’ll never trust anyone ever again.
Her eyes flash with emotion, and she drops her hand, scooting back on the bed a few inches and facing me without embarrassment. I fight not to let my gaze drop to her breasts. I may respect the fuck out of her, but I’m still a man—last time I checked.
“Austin, have you ever knowingly hurt a woman?”
I straighten my spine, years of military training lending strength to my words. “No, ma’am. Never.”
“Have you ever cheated? Lied for your own benefit? Or been anything other than completely and totally respectful to me?” Warm fingers circle my wrist, and she brings my hand to her breast.
I barely manage to stifle my groan. She’s a perfect handful. Her nipple pebbles under my palm and goosebumps race down her arms. Keeping perfectly still, unwilling to do anything she’s not completely ready for, I hold her gaze. “No. At least not…intentionally.”
“That’s what I thought. Don’t try to tell me you’re someone I know you aren’t,” she says with a huff. “You’re a good man, Austin. And if this were a normal vacation, we’d be naked in this bed right now.”
My dick goes from zero to granite as that last sentence sinks in. “Mik…God. You have no idea how much I want you.”
She chuckles, and though I refuse to let my gaze leave her eyes, she makes it a point to stare directly at my hard on. “No idea? I’m not that naive.” Leaning in for a quick, hard kiss, she pushes up and then shuffles back to the bathroom.
Fuck. This amazing woman might actually accept me as broken as I am—with all my darkness, all my flaws, all my nightmares and pain.
My phone buzzes, and I roll my eyes as Trevor’s name pops up on the screen. I’m surprised he waited this long. “Yeah?”
“Should have known you wouldn’t reach out on your own,” Trev mutters. “You going to make that flight?”
“Yes. We’ll be at the airport right around 1:00 p.m. But…there’s something else I need to ask you for.”
“Name it.”
Despite his matter-of-fact tone, I know I’m about to push my luck. “I need a protective detail for three people.”
“Three?” He snorts. “What the fuck are you doing down there, Austin? Rescuing a small village?”
“Just one botanist and two twenty-something research assistants.” I run a hand through my hair, hoping he won’t make me explain here, with Mik in the next room.
“Days and nights?”
“Yes. The botanist…I can handle nights, but a couple of external surveillance cameras wouldn’t be a bad idea. For all of them. I don’t know how far this particular cartel is willing to go to keep them quiet.”
I realize my mistake when Trev chuckles. “We’re going to have a long talk when you get back, man. And I assume you’re going to let me and Dani meet her. Or…I shouldn’t assume…him?”
“Her,” I say sharply. “And maybe. If things work out. Don’t push me. Not on this.”
“Austin, I get it. You don’t think it was damn near impossible for me to admit my feelings for Dani? I’m not pushing you. I’m…” He sighs, and there’s a long silence followed by a whispered curse. “I’m trying to say I understand. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned since Venezuela,” his voice cracks, and I sink down onto the bed, “it’s that holding all this shit in doesn’t do you a damn bit of good. Only makes life harder. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Don’t shut your family out. And if whatever’s going on with this botanist is serious, don’t shut her out either.”
Someone knocks on Trevor’s door, and he calls out, “Come on in, Dax,” before lowering his voice again. “When you land, Ronan will be there with a car. Stay safe, brother.”
Brother.
The word rattles around my brain as Mik emerges from the bathroom and I tuck the cell phone into my pocket. Every time I see her face, she takes my breath away. Now, with her hair swept back and a hint of blush on her cheeks, it’s like she’s rediscovered some of her confidence. The tank top molds to her breasts, and though she’s still limping, her steps are smoother, her shoulders a little straighter, and when she reaches my side, she wraps her arms around my waist. “Who were you talking to?”
“Trevor. He and his boss, Dax, were the ones who arranged the flight for us.” Staring down at her, I almost can’t believe she’s real. That I met her in a bar in the middle of Mexico, and now…there’s something between us so intense, I don’t ever want to let her go.
“Are you ready to go home?” I skim my knuckle over her cheek, and her eyelids flutter as she settles against me.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Uncertainty clouds her gaze. “They took my driver’s license. What if they show up at my house?”
“It’ll be the last thing they ever do. Dax’s firm—Second Sight—they’re the best in the world. I asked Trev to set up surveillance for you, Li, and Isaiah. No one’s going to get to you on my watch.”
“And you’re…” She shakes her head. “Crap on a cracker, I’m so bad at this.”
“At what?” Pulling her over to the bed, I ease her down and take her hand.
“This is all new to me, Austin,” she says with a little wobble to her voice. “Sharing my…my life with someone.”
“Your—?”
“I don’t want you to leave,” she says, her words tumbling over one another like she can’t get them out fast enough. “It’s only been a few days, but I know you. This—“ Mik nods at our joined hands, “—this connection? None of the normal rules apply here. At least, I hope they don’t.”
“My life hasn’t been normal since…all the shit that happened with Gil.” I have to start letting her in. No matter how much it hurts. For Trev to warn me, to tell me to open up? He’s one of the only people in this world I trust. Or was. Until I met her.
Mik frowns, concern etching faint lines around her eyes. “I know we have to get going. But…once we’re back in the United States? You’re going to tell me, right? At least some of it?”
“I’m going to try.”
She leans in and kisses me deeply, passionately, and her contented sigh when she pulls away? This woman truly believes we have a future. Together. I won’t do a damn thing to screw that up.
Mikayla
I haven’t stopped gawking since Austin helped me up the stairs of the private Cessna. It’s luxurious in a way I always thought was reserved for James Bond movies or…at the very least, the super rich.
“Major General Pritchard?” one of the flight attendants says as Austin and I take seats across from one another, a polished wood table between us. “Dax Holloway wanted me to tell you that whatever else you need—both in flight and once we land in Maryland—is yours.”
“Whatever else you need?” I whisper when the man heads for the jump seat to buckle himself in. “Austin, how much did this cost?”
“No fucking clue.” He runs a hand through his hair, then glances around the luxurious cabin. Isaiah and Li are sitting two rows behind us, staring out the windows as we start to taxi. “I didn’t ask. Pretty sure Dax hasn’t worried about money in a long time, though. Not with some the clients Second Sight’s handled over the years. And Ryker? He’s loaded.”
I’m confused now. “What does Ryker have to do with Dax’s financial health?”
Austin shakes his head and chuckles. “Those two are so tight, you couldn’t drive a nail between ‘em with a sledgehammer. They teamed up last year—merged Hidden Agenda, Ry’s K&R firm with Second Sight—and now, they’re expanding. If Dax needed anything, under any circumstance, Ry would make sure he had it.”
“And you know them both from Venezuela?” I ask. I want to know this man. Really know him. And meet his friends.
“Not exactly.” The plane levels off, and Austin glances back at the flight attendant before he turns back to me. “I used to run the United States Joint Special Operations Command, Mik.”
“I know. I’ve seen your Wikipedia page, remember?” My lips curve into a smile. I’m still shocked I had the gall to look him up that first night.
“We—they—oversee the most elite of the military. Delta Force, SEAL Team 6, the Air Force’s 24th Special Tactics Squadron, the 75th Ranger Regiment, and a whole lot of other units I can’t talk about.
“If this—if we go the way I hope we go, you’re going to meet Dax before too long. Trevor, Ryker, Wren, Graham, West, Inara…”
His face softens a little when he says their names, so they’re obviously important to him.
“Maybe even Ripper.”
“Ripper? What kind of name is Ripper?” My query is supposed to be teasing, but Austin’s face hardens, his hazel eyes turning dark and stormy in a heartbeat.
“The one he wanted. The man spent six fucking years being tortured, brainwashed, and forced to do the unimaginable. No one knew he was even alive until last year. Dax, Ry, and Trevor—along with a few others—went to rescue him. He’d been using a different name—one his captor gave him—but Ripper was his call sign when he was in the Special Forces, and so that’s what he goes by now.”
“Oh, crap. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You couldn’t have known.”
“Where was he?”
“Afghanistan.” Austin’s still tense, and I rest my hand, palm up, on the table between us. He stares at it for a minute, then links our fingers. “Finding him…it should have been my job. Hell, knowing he was even alive in the first place was my job. But JSOC had two assholes in our ranks who kept it quiet so they could sell arms to the guy torturing Rip.”
“Oh, God.”
“There was a hell of a lot of bureaucracy to cut through. You bring a single member of the Armed Forces into any operation, and paperwork bullshit goes up a hundred fold. But the long and short of it is…technically, Ripper could have been sent away for war crimes. For treason. I couldn’t let that happen. He’s the most honorable man I know—along with Dax and Ry. Hell, the man had been completely brainwashed, his whole identity destroyed, and he still managed to find small ways to resist the bastard who had him. And those ways helped Dax, Ry, and their team put an end to the asshole.”
From the way he talks about these men, I don’t have to ask if they’re close. They clearly are. And Austin trusts them with his life.
“Trevor came to me, asked me for my help when the guys—my guys—were after Ripper. I pulled a few strings, buried some intel—because it was the right thing—the honorable thing—to do, and that whole crew…they’re kind of like my extended family now.”
When he squeezes my hand and does that amazing thing with his thumb along the inside of my wrist, I feel like nothing will ever hurt me again. I know it’s an illusion. That Austin can’t really stop anything and anyone who might ever want to hurt me—but he stopped Arturo and Martín, and for now, that’s enough.
“Well, when I meet Dax, remind me to thank him for this. I’ve never been on a nicer plane.”
Austin’s brows shoot up. “When?”
“Yes. When.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mikayla
Before we even unbuckle our seatbelts in Baltimore, the cabin door opens, and a dark-haired man, on the wiry side, enters and nods in our direction.
“Pritchard. Ya’ look a bit thinner than the last time I saw ya’,” he says with just a hint of an Irish brogue.
“Hiking more than five hundred miles through Mexico will do that to a guy,” Austin mutters as he wraps his arm around my waist. “Ronan, this is Dr. Mikayla Salim.”
“Hi. Mik is fine.” Austin’s body language gives me the impression he’s not thrilled with Ronan’s presence, and when a second man, this one a little bulkier with dark blond hair and blue eyes ducks through the door, Austin narrows his eyes.
“Are we having a party?” he asks, his voice tight.
“This is Clive. Works at Second Sight? Cut me some slack, mate. Did ya’ really think I’d bring someone on board I didn’t trust?” Ronan scowls, then nods to Li and Isaiah, who stand off to the side, both looking like they want to shrink into oblivion. “Clive is goin’ to handle settin’ up the outside surveillance.”
Clive shakes my hand, then Austin’s. “You’re a bit of a legend around the office.”
With a snort, Austin shakes his head. “I’m no legend. That’s Dax. And Ry. Maybe Trev.”
Ronan leans closer and lowers his voice. “Call him, mate. You disappearin’ did a number on him.”
“I’m working on it.” Austin guides me to the stairs and practically carries me down to the tarmac. “Ronan was on the mission in Venezuela,” he says quietly. “But I think this is the most I’ve heard him talk at once…ever.”
“And he and Clive work for Dax.”
Nodding, Austin waits for the two of them to retrieve all the luggage and join us—along with Isaiah and Li—close to two black SUVs.
“Hey Perry White. Catch,” Ronan says as he unlocks the closest vehicle to load up the bags, then tosses Austin a set of keys. “That one’s yours. We’re takin’ the other two home, then I’m droppin’ Clive off at his cousin’s place. Oh, and there’s somethin’ in the console for ya’.”
Austin nods. “Thanks. You’ll be on days with Mik if I can’t be?”
Staring back and forth between Ronan and Austin, I ask, “What?”
As he opens the passenger door for me, Austin lowers his voice. “I can’t be with you twenty-four hours a day, Mik. Not and try to find out who these assholes were, how they got to Corey in the first place, and whether or not you’re still in danger. When I’m not with you, Ronan will be.”
“You got me a bodyguard.” The words escape on a whisper, and though I’m scared the cartel will somehow follow me back home, I believed Austin when he said we’d be safe. But now I wonder…does he even believe it?
Ronan clears his throat. “Mik, ya’ won’t need to worry. We protect our own, and Clive has contacts here. He vetted the locals assigned to your two grad students. All we need now is for Pritchard here to tell us what we’re protectin’ ya’ from.”
