Ice (Elite Forces #1)(39)

“Drive safe, baby girl.” After pulling away from dad, I’m enthralled by my mom’s arms. A tear escapes my eye by the time she lets me go. This time, it’s a happy tear.

I enjoy the drive to my apartment and take the time to reflect on everything that’s been heavy on my shoulders. Killing that child. Kaleb. Jason. My parents. It truly feels great to have at least one area of my life taken care of somewhat, but the others are enough to cause my gut to wrench in pain just thinking about them. I wonder if Kaleb is extremely pissed that I left him like I did. One day, I’ll find him and apologize. I think he’ll understand I needed me time to process my living nightmare.

“Well, f*ck me. Is that really my roommate? My best friend?” Mallory damn near mauls my ass when I step through the door of our apartment.

“I should be the one asking you that. You dyed your hair. Shit, Mallory. I love it. It brings out the green in your eyes.” Damn, she looks great. Her normal long, blond hair is dark brown, framing her face.

“I do too. I needed a change. You look good too, and you have about fifteen minutes to pack before this friend of yours shows up. He better be as hot as you say he is or I’ll personally kick your ass. Nice boots by the way.” Harris texted me earlier this morning, stating he would pick us up around one o’clock. It’s a little over a six-hour drive to get to Sterett, Alabama, where his ranch is.

“Did you pack yours?” I reply sarcastically, knowing damn well she did. She may be from the city, but I can’t count the times she’s talked me into going to a country bar so she can line dance while I sit and laugh my ass off at the way she shakes her ass on that floor.

“Dumb question. Now go pack. I’m thirsty for a good throttle from a cowboy. Do you think he has a whip?” Her eyes light up when she asks that. Christ. I hope she’s joking. Well, maybe not. The thought of her and Harris hooking up would be great for the two of them. It might even keep him occupied, get his mind off of drilling me about Kaleb Maverick. I inwardly sigh, knowing damn well whether they hook up or not, he’s going to want answers. Answers I can’t give him, because hell, I don’t even know myself. I can’t count the times I’ve picked up my phone over the past few days to call him just to hear his voice, only to toss my phone aside. A part of me wants to wait and see if he will reach out to me, to know if the things he said to me were true, if he wants to try and make this work, while the other part of me is scared out of my mind.

“I’m sure he has anything you need, Mal. Just don’t break his heart,” I tease and saunter into my room. It looks exactly the way I left it. Except for the suitcase on top of the bed Mallory must have retrieved out of my closet. I drop my bag on the floor and make my way to my closet, pulling down a few sleeveless shirts and bending down to grab my favorite pair of pink Converse that are battered and worn. No way in hell am I spending the entire weekend in these damn boots. After grabbing a few pair of shorts and my favorite matching lace bra and panties along with the rest of the things I need, I’m packed and ready to go, just in time for the doorbell to ring.

“Hey. You must be Mallory?” I hear Harris’ deep voice ask.

“Um. I am. Harris, right?” I wait just inside my bedroom door. My hand flies to my mouth to stifle my laugh. I warned her he was hot. Now, for the first time since I’ve known her, she’s flustered. I can tell by the tone of her voice.

“It’s Beau actually. Everyone in the Army calls me Harris. You ladies ready?” Damn, Harris. I can feel his smoothness through these walls.

“All set.” I walk out of my room, towing my suitcase behind me. Mal turns around to face me, her mouth hitting the floor. Yeah, he got to her.

“Jesus Christ. You look, well f*ck. You look totally different, Elliott. You clean up good.”

“You do too, cowboy. Let’s hit the road. My shit-kickers are ready for some shit.” I lift my leg to show off my nice, new, ugly boots.

“I’ll have you both pros at shoveling horse shit by the end of the weekend,” he remarks, taking my suitcase from my hand and grabbing the handle of Mal’s.

“After you,” he says all gentleman-like. I roll my eyes when he tilts his head to the side and stares at Mal’s ass in her tight short-shorts when she walks by.

“Pervert,” I whisper.

“She has a nice ass. What the f*ck can I say?” He shrugs.

“Say whatever you want. Just gag her, she’s a screamer.” I nudge him. She’s not a screamer. More like a moaner. I’m not going to tell him any differently though.

Setting our alarm and locking up behind me, I follow them down the corridor and onto the sidewalk only to come to a screeching halt when he stops by the biggest black truck I have ever seen. Maybe I don’t know this man like I thought I did. This is a country boy's truck for damn sure.

“Don’t say a damn thing, Elliott. Trust me, I would much rather be in my Mustang,” he says when he notices the shocked expression on my face.

“Whatever you say, cowboy.”

“And knock it off with the cowboy shit.” He raises his brows, and I burst out laughing. God, it feels good to laugh. The smile on my face fades when I see the Jeep parked on the street right in front of my house. It's Kaleb. I'd recognize that Jeep anywhere.

I don't waste any time marching straight to his door, yanking it open, and unleashing on him. “So now you're f*cking stalking me? Kaleb, you have to learn f*cking boundaries. You can't just show up in front of my house and watch me. You don't think I'll see your goddamn Jeep when you park directly in front of my house?” He has already stepped out of his Jeep and slammed the door. He has turned so that my back is against the side of the truck, and f*ck if he hasn't already smashed his hard body against mine. My deep breaths hit him in the face as he just watches me closely.