Defending Zara (Mountain Mercenaries #6)(25)

One look at Zara huddling at his feet seemed to make that feeling fade, however. He couldn’t regret anything he’d done if it meant getting her home where she belonged.

Gray pulled into the gated parking lot and waved at the van of military personnel that had pulled into a spot on the street outside the parking area.

As if they’d practiced the maneuver, Ball, Ro, and Arrow formed a wall of flesh, disguising Zara as she stepped out of the van. She huddled close to Meat, and he put his arm around her as they walked toward the entrance. Black and Gray brought up the rear, concealing their stowaway from view of the soldiers on the street. Meat didn’t dare breathe until they were safely inside the motel.

“I’ll go get the third room,” Ball said before breaking off toward the lobby. The rest of the group headed into the stairwell and started up.

Meat swore as each step caused stabs of pain in his ribs. His ankle was also throbbing. Walking was one thing; apparently stairs were something completely different.

He felt Zara’s arm go around his waist, and she took some of his weight, just enough pressure off his ankle so he could successfully navigate the stairs without falling on his ass.

“Damn, do these stairs suck,” Black complained.

Meat wanted to chuckle, but knew it would hurt too much, so he settled for nodding in agreement.

“Maybe if you did more than just lie there when a group of men decided to stomp on your chest, it wouldn’t hurt so bad,” Ro quipped.

“Fuck you,” Black said with no ire in his tone.

God, Meat had missed these guys.

They walked down the hall to a room, and Gray opened it with an actual physical key, rather than the plastic cards they’d all gotten used to in the States. They filed in and stood awkwardly in the room, staring at each other. They couldn’t talk, just in case the place was bugged.

Meat said, “I’m going to use the bathroom. Let me know when the other room is ready.”

Then he put a hand on Zara’s back and gently pushed her into the small bathroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, he turned on both the shower and the sink, knowing the sound of the water running would mask whatever they said if the bathroom had a listening device.

“You okay?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

She nodded.

“And your friends back in the barrio? They’ll be okay after that distraction they provided?”

She stared at him for a long moment, and Meat wasn’t sure what she was thinking.

“What?” he finally asked.

“Why do you care?”

Meat was nonplussed for a second. Why did he care? Did she really think he was that coldhearted? “Because they’re your friends. Because they went out of their way to help me when they didn’t have to. Because they could’ve been hurt.”

“Sorry,” she said softly. “I guess I’m not used to men helping me unless they want to somehow screw me over.”

“Hear me now,” Meat said seriously, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “I’m helping you because I want to. Because someone should’ve done it a long time ago. Because you’ve had the shit end of the stick for so long, it’s about time you were treated fairly and got your just rewards.

“But most importantly, I’m helping you because I like you, Zara Layne. You fascinate me. I’m in awe of your strength and resilience. I hate what happened to you, but I’m so fucking thankful that you took a chance and helped me.”

She blinked. “You like me?”

Meat couldn’t help it. He laughed, then groaned as his ribs protested. “Yeah, Zara. I like you a hell of a lot.”

She still looked baffled.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that they like you before?”

“Not since I ended up here,” she said honestly.

“Then I’ll have to be sure I remind you every day from here on out.”

“I don’t think your friends like me.”

“They don’t know you.”

They stared at each other for another long moment before Meat did his best to lighten the mood. “Hearing that shower is making me long to step inside . . . fully clothed.”

Zara’s lips twitched. “I can’t remember the last time I had a shower. I don’t think standing in the rain counts.”

Meat’s mood abruptly soured, thinking about the life she’d led on the streets. “If you can wait a few more minutes, you can take as long a shower as you want.”

“How much hot water does this place have, do you think?” she asked, smiling.

Meat wasn’t ready to be cheered up. “Hopefully a hell of a lot.”

He watched as she searched for something else to say. “I’m sure your friends are going to want to talk.”

“They can wait until you’re ready,” Meat told her.

“You never told me,” Zara said, not looking up at him. “Why are you called Meat?”

“I was on a training mission in the Army. As a joke, someone made sure all our MREs—meals ready to eat—were vegetarian. We had four days in the field with only vegetables. I wasn’t happy. I bitched about it the entire time. Said I was desperate enough to eat a horse to get some protein. The guys in my platoon started teasing me and calling me ‘Meat.’”