FIRE (Elite Forces #2)(18)



This isn’t common behavior. We aren’t civilians like the rest of these guys. Our call of duty hasn’t been completed, but we're a team, and one of our men has been injured. Not to mention, he happens to be the man I love. The Army gets this, whether it’s right or wrong or even the proper way things are done. None of that matters. We’ve been briefed and our statements have been documented. This is our time. Our leave. We earned it.

What none of them know, though, not even Harris, is the minute I return, I’m going to do everything in my power to be put on this team for every mission from here on out. I’ve had too many days to dwell on this decision while staring into the blank, beaten face of the man I love. The only time I left here was to be briefed by a Sergeant Major from Lackland Air Force Base and shop for some damn clothes and necessities I needed until we get out of here.

My heart wants a life with Kaleb. After this and the killing of the boy in Afghanistan, I can’t worry about either one of us being away without the other. He’ll be thrilled about this; I know he will. Danger is part of this job. Worry will claw away at him, like it did me, if we're apart. He may be a hardass, but the man knows how hard I’ve worked for this. I deserve to be with Kaleb and he deserves to be with me. Everyone knows we work well together. The opposite is not in the cards for me. To have either one of us out in this world not knowing where the other one is will only tear us up every damn second. I’m not going through this again. I can’t.

I’ve proven my loyalty and dedication to my country. I’d lay my life down to protect it. I’ve earned the right to be heard and to make what I feel is one simple request. Just put me alongside Kaleb on special missions, where I can shine like the true sniper I’ve worked so hard to be.

I know we’ll have to work hard at our relationship too. I’m not an idiot. Maverick is one difficult man, but I can be just as difficult. Not to mention the kind of missions his team will go on, but it will keep me in the mix of doing what I love. It’s actually a better fit for me. Get in, f*ck shit up, and then get out. Short missions that need my expertise. At least with this team, I’m not fighting against the Army’s rules about a female Ranger going out on an active mission.

Kaleb and I will fight, there’s no doubt about that, especially for control. We will struggle, but the one thing we’ve never had an issue with is communicating with each other. Both of us are outspoken, and we have no problem saying what’s on our mind. We tell each other the way it is, and there is no one I’d rather climb into a doghouse with after fighting. I’ve always thought the Army was my dream. The day I met Kaleb Maverick was the day I realized I want more out of my life. I want him in it every single day.

I snap out of my thoughts when Kaleb tries to adjust the bed himself. Frustration blows from his lips, only filling the room with more testosterone.

“Let me help.” I go to him and place my hand under his head while I push the button to slowly lift him into a higher sitting position. He hisses and swears like crazy, causing my heart to shatter. I know he’s fighting the pain and is desperately trying to stay alert. He has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to stand here and watch him suffer. As soon as we're done here, he’s receiving more meds, even if it knocks him out for a few hours. After all, they think I’m his wife. Which we haven’t discussed either.

“Son of a bitch.” He catches his breath. Short gasps escape his mouth.

“Brother. We can do this later,” Steele says sympathetically.

“Fuck that. I’m good. I want this done. You may all want to park your asses on the floor before you fall.” He grabs my hand, tugging me down to sit on the side of the bed. Something is off with him. In a way I’ve never seen before. A mixture of hurt, pain, and disgust breaks across his handsome face.

With another tug, he draws me next to him on the bed. My fingers slip delicately around his. He’s scaring me. His hold on my fingers increases to the point of pain as he prepares himself to speak. It’s as if he needs me to be his anchor right now. I have no clue what’s rattling around in his head, but wonder if it’s memories or visions of his brutal attack.

Not even his strong fingers around mine prepare me for what he tells us.

“It was my brother Ty who did this to me.” His muscled stomach rises and falls through the thin cotton of the hospital gown after he speaks. He refuses to let me go. The need for me to look into his eyes weighs heavy on my heart. I do everything I can to hide my negative reaction to this news. This is killing him. With every breath he takes, I feel his heart thump harder and faster. I can’t imagine how he feels, what he’s thinking, or god, the heartache he must’ve felt to be abused, taunted, and have his heart tossed into a damn blender by someone who should love him. This makes me sick.

And no wonder he hasn’t said a damn thing about this having to do with his brother. From what little he told me, he’s a drug user, who has never gotten his life together. A sick excuse of a man, who has done nothing but bring heartache to his own mother and family.

“Jesus Christ. You have to be shitting me, man. That’s where he ran off to? It wasn’t enough he pumped every goddamn poison out there into his veins? Is he selling the shit now too? And to top it off, he took this shit out on you? Is that what the hell is happening here? Fucking hell. I’m going to murder that lowlife motherf*cker.” I jump as Pierce’s hatred escapes him, his jaw clenching tight as he paces the floor, wearing his anger on his face.

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