Deadly Descent (4 page)

“What…what did he say about me?” The words were almost a whisper.

“Just how great you were.”

She flinched.
Yeah, she was great all right.
Fantasizing about his best friend instead of him when she went to bed at night.

In a way Cam was right, though.
She
had
nothing to feel guilty about on that count.
She and Ty had never talked about not seeing other people, or about being exclusive.
She’d missed him when he’d deployed, but she’d also felt relieved because it meant she was free to move on.
She’d planned to end their relationship once an acceptable amount of time had passed.
And it wasn’t as if she’d ever have acted on her feelings for Cam while she was with Ty.
Hell, she wasn’t going to act on them now that he was gone, but that didn’t make her feel any better.

“And Ryan?” she challenged.
God, did his flight really leave in two hours, or had he left to give them time alone, to…
console
each other?
She wanted to cringe with shame.
Is that how they all saw her?
Some sort of Special Ops groupie?
She pressed a hand to her churning stomach.

Cam shook his head in annoyance, the light picking out honey-gold highlights in his short hair.
“You’re reading too much into this.” He folded his well-developed arms across his chest.
It irritated her that she wanted to stare at the muscles stretching the cotton of his black T-shirt.
“Look, I’m sorry I said anything.”

That made two of them.
“Why did you?”

His eyes tightened at the corners.
Very un-Cam like.
“You don’t think I felt it?
That I wasn’t interested in you from day one?”

Had she recognized it?
Maybe part of her had.
The thing that frightened her most was her attraction to him wasn’t just physical.
What she truly wanted went far deeper than that.
Cam wanting her wasn’t enough, and pinning girlish romantic fantasies on him was as stupid as it was unrealistic.
Even if she could give herself to him, losing him afterward would break her heart.
“I’m going to clean up,” she blurted, hating how off-balance she felt.
She was always steady under pressure, always kept her emotions under control.
Cam made her feel completely unhinged.

“Wait.” He tried to stop her, but she brushed past him to pick up a few glasses and carried them to the kitchen.
He followed her.
Every second made her hyper aware of his presence.
Being close to him was like having sandpaper rubbed over her raw skin.

By the time she finished, tears stung her eyes.
She was a horrible, despicable person for wanting him this much, and so was he for adding to her misery.

“Hey.”

The tenderness in his low voice nearly undid her.
She bit her lip as she gathered the empty beer bottles, wishing she’d never invited him or Ryan back.
Instead of saying goodbye to a good friend, she’d dishonored Ty’s memory without meaning to.

“Dev?”

She bit down harder, wanting to cry, and shook her head.

He stepped up behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body and catch the woodsy scent of his aftershave.
“Hey.
Ah, shit, honey, don’t cry.”

Oh God, don’t touch me.
She couldn’t bear it.
She looked over her shoulder and forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Tell me the truth, Cam.”

He set down the garbage bag he held.
“Okay.”

“Did I hurt him?”

His brows went up.
“Hurt him?
Jesus, no—never.
You made him happy.
The happiest I’d ever seen him.”

A sob caught in her chest.
She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in her throat.
“I never meant to hurt him.” She sounded pathetic, but she was so confused.

“You didn’t,” Cam insisted.
He ignored her flinch and laid a hand on her shoulder.
The warmth of his palm felt good.
She wanted to lean into his strength, but she couldn’t allow him to know she was weakening.
“He cared about you, but he knew it wasn’t serious yet.”

She hoped so.
She would never have allowed it to get serious because her feelings for Cam made that impossible.
Yet shouldn’t she feel something more for Ty than a misty-eyed sadness?
She’d slept with him, walked hand-in-hand with him, kissed him goodbye at the airport the day he left for Afghanistan.
Instead of guilt, didn’t she at least owe him more grief, regardless of how little time they’d been together?

“Stop doing this to yourself, Dev.
Ty wouldn’t have wanted this, and you know it.”

“I can’t
help
it.”

Cam didn’t argue.
He pulled her against his solid chest before she could resist, his gentle insistence destroying the last of her control.
His arms were strong around her, one big hand cradling the back of her head as she turned and pressed her cheek against his hard chest.

The tears leaked out, hot and silent.
She cried for Ty, and because he’d died in the prime of his life, bleeding out in the desert waiting for the help that never reached him.
She cried because such an incredible man was gone and no one would ever hear his infectious laugh again.
She cried for his friends and family who were all grieving, whose lives would never be the same without him.
She cried for her unintended betrayal of him.

And she cried for what could never be between her and the man holding her.

He wasn’t making any advances on her.
Right now he was back to Cam her buddy, there to shield and protect her.
His embrace felt exactly right, no matter how much she wished it didn’t.
Yet for just a moment she allowed herself to savor the feel of him, tall and strong, his clean-shaven cheek resting against the crown of her head.

Forcing away the thought that she was somehow cheating on Ty, she nestled closer, heart swelling at the way Cam’s arms tightened.
Enveloping her in security.
His heartbeat drummed steady and strong beneath her.
His clean, masculine scent was heaven.
Her breathing slowed to match his, calming her, but she couldn’t make herself pull away.
He felt too good, and she’d imagined him holding her like this so many times…

Without warning, the heat began to build.
Subtle at first, but quickly racing over her skin until her nipples peaked inside the lace cups of her bra.
Clenching her teeth, it took all her will not to rub against his chest just to ease the ache in them.
Between her thighs a hot glow throbbed, and when she shifted, the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressed against her abdomen.
Sucking back a gasp, she stilled.
The muscles in her aching core tightened, her mind already imagining what it would feel like to have him kiss her deep and hard while he pinned her to the bed with his powerful body and thrust in and out…

No.
She couldn’t think about that.
Her hands pushed at his chest.

Cam’s arms stayed locked around her.
“I can’t help it,” he said softly, his tone irritatingly reasonable.
“But like I said, I won’t do anything unless you want me to.
I know you’re not ready.”

She lifted her head to study his face.
Did he mean he planned to wait until she was?
It could never work between them.
“Cam…”

“I know,” he murmured, tucking her head back down to his chest.
“Just pretend it’s not there.”

A soggy laugh bubbled up, but she didn’t pull away.
For her, this was a line she couldn’t cross.
Her conscience wouldn’t let her.
Besides, she was an officer and he was enlisted.
Being caught in a relationship together could have serious consequences for both their careers, and though she might end up at Bagram too, she’d never be able to see him.
Another reason why she’d let her relationship with Ty go when he’d deployed.

But you might not get another chance with Cam,
a voice whispered.
He’s heading back to the front lines in the morning.
He might not make it back.

She shook the words away.
She couldn’t think like that.

Cam respected her enough to honor her choice, and in light of her uncertainty she was grateful for that.
Unless she told him otherwise, he wouldn’t push her for more.
She was as safe as she wanted to be.

Thing was, part of her didn’t want to be safe at all with him.

Memorizing the feel of him, she stayed in his arms for a few precious minutes before carefully moving away.
He didn’t stop her, merely stroked her hair back from her damp cheek as he watched her.
His eyes held so much hunger and regret it tore her up inside.
He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
If she gave the word, he’d take her to bed here and now.

Touch me.

The words formed on her tongue, her body pleading for an end to this agonizing tension between them.
She gritted her teeth to keep from blurting them out.

Standing this close, his body heat licked over her skin like a caress.
His gaze never left hers.
“Promise you’ll keep in touch, and let me know if you’re coming back to Bagram.”

“I will.” Her voice sounded husky, even to her.
Partly hunger, partly the knowledge of what he would face once he went back there.
Dangerous missions while Pashtun warlords like General Nasrallah prowled around looking for the opportunity to launch a guerrilla attack.
“And you be careful out there.”

He nodded, still staring down at her.
His eyes wandered over her face and lingered on her mouth for a breathless moment.
Before she could turn away, he threaded his hands in her short hair, gently controlling her head as he tipped it back and leaned in to press a slow, firm kiss against her forehead.

Devon gasped and grabbed his upper arms as her nerves went haywire.
Her fingers dug into the hard swells of his biceps and held on tight.
The air around them shimmered and crackled with explosive energy that begged for release.
One spark.
That’s all it would take to make them both go up in flames.
It would be easy to let it happen.
Too easy to tilt her head back and lift onto her toes, find his deliciously full lips with hers and—

Cam abruptly let go and stepped back.
She stumbled, wanting to weep at the loss of him, and he steadied her before moving away.
Her body hummed with unfulfilled need, and her mind shrieked that this might be the last time she ever saw him.
But she couldn’t move.
Couldn’t take that final step over the invisible line between them.

His crooked smile was the saddest she’d ever seen.
“Bye, Dev.
Take care of yourself.”

She choked back a sob.
“You too.”

Through tear blurred eyes, she watched him walk out of her hotel room.
When the door clicked shut behind him, a sense of panic welled up.

Call him back.

Her head came up, eyes fastening on the door knob only a few meters away.
She could still stop him.
All she had to do was throw the door open and call his name.
He’d come back for her.
She knew he would.

A car engine came to life.

Open the door and call him!

The muscles in her legs jerked, her body wanting to move toward the door.
She had only moments left to change her mind.
It’s not too late.
Call him.

“I
can’t
,” she cried in misery, heart racing beneath her too-tight ribs.

Headlights swung around through the windows and turned out of the parking lot, then faded as the car sped away.
Her knees gave out.

She’d lost him.

Sinking to the carpeted floor, she wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked as the scalding tears fell.

So this is what a broken heart felt like.
Cam rubbed a hand over his sternum as he drove down the I-95.
Hurt like a son of a bitch under there.
The tightness in his chest made it hard to draw a deep breath.
Burying Ty and losing Devon in the same day was almost more than he could take.

He shifted in his seat and turned up the radio.
To distract himself from the fact that each mile took him further away from Devon and closer to a warzone, he forced himself to sing along.
Dammit, he still felt torn.
Part of him was glad to be leaving, but the other part wanted to go back and stay with Devon so she wouldn’t be alone.
Even if she didn’t want to talk to him again and it meant crashing on the couch in her hotel room.
He couldn’t stand seeing her sad, and knowing he’d inadvertently caused some of it made him feel like an asshole.

The flare of shock in her eyes when he’d not so subtly informed her he knew she wanted him.
Had she really thought she’d been able to hide it from him?
Or that it was one sided?
The spark between them was undeniable, and she had to know it as well as he did.
While he understood her reasons for trying to ignore the attraction, that didn’t mean he liked them.
It had taken every ounce of will to walk out of her hotel room.
Holding her tight against him, feeling the tremor of arousal that ran through her delectable body had damn near killed him.
He’d been dying to kiss her until she couldn’t think, then carry her into the bedroom and stretch out on top of her.
Make love to her until she cried out his name and came at least twice, then cradle her afterward while she slept.

He cranked the radio up higher, annoyed with himself.
Man, he was a total sap over her, to be thinking like that.
Maybe he should be glad she hadn’t been ready to face the chemistry between them.

If he’d tried anything, he would have hurt her worse than she already had been.
And he’d have irreparably damaged their friendship.
Ultimately, that’s what had stopped him.
Devon meant a hell of a lot more to him than any other woman ever had.
She understood what made him tick.
She knew what his job meant to him, same as he knew what it meant to her to be a pilot.

Pounding drums and the scream of electric guitars came from the radio.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the exit for the airport finally came into view.
After he dealt with the paperwork at the rental car place, he shouldered his duffel and walked up to the check-in counter.
By the time he cleared security and strode through the terminal, he was intent on getting to the nearest bar for a double scotch on the rocks.

Christ, I should have just kept my mouth shut.

Too late now.
The damage was already done.
He couldn’t come up with a single reason why he’d thought talking to her about it would be a good idea.
He blamed his upcoming flight for his frankness.
Ordinarily he wouldn’t have said anything—let alone on the day of his best friend’s funeral—but knowing he only had hours until a plane took him back to Afghanistan had shot his common sense all to hell.
Dev put on a brave face, but he’d seen the vulnerability underneath it.
At least he’d always have the memory of holding her and having her melt in his arms.
The woman had him tied in more knots than a parachute rigging.
She’d done that to him since day one.
How the hell had she never realized it before tonight?

His phone vibrated in his pocket.
He yanked it out, praying it was Devon.
It was his mom.
Pushing aside the disappointment, he answered all her questions about the funeral and did the best he could to soothe her fears about him going back overseas.
When he hung up, he felt worse than ever.

Blowing out a breath, he spotted a bar and strode over, dropping his bag and taking a high-top stool near the bartender.
He didn’t drink much, normally.
And he’d already had two beers back at the hotel…The bartender looked over at him and raised his brows.

The hell with it.
“Two double scotches on the rocks.”

“You got it.”

Cam drummed his fingers on the polished wood surface and tried to get interested in the football highlights playing on the TV mounted overhead.
All that did was remind him more of Devon, because the host was analyzing the Seahawks game.
Her favorite team.

Jesus, let her go already.

Damned if he knew how, though.
He knocked back the first drink with one swallow and was reaching for the second when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
He glanced up to find Ryan grinning at him.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” he said with a laugh.

“Flight got delayed.” Ryan slid onto the stool next to him and ordered a beer.
He glanced at the drinks Cam had lined up on the bar.
“Guess I don’t have to ask how it went with Dev.”

“Nope.” He picked up the next drink but sipped it this time.
“Ah, shit, I don’t know why I said anything to her about it in the first place.”

“Yeah, you do.” Ryan clapped him between the shoulder blades.
“I’m only surprised you waited as long as you did.”

Cam pretended to be interested in the Broncos recap.
Damn, he couldn’t get her face out of his head.
A whole bottle of scotch couldn’t do that.

“She’ll come around.
Just give her some time, buddy.”

He didn’t have much choice, did he?
Cam reined in his thoughts.
“You on the military transport to Andrews with me?”

“Yep.
Kind of glad my other flight got canned.”

In light of how depressing the whole day had been, Cam was damn glad to have the company.
“Hard to believe we’re going back already.” On top of everything else, the heaviness in his heart reminded him they were leaving one buddy short.

“I know.
It’s the perfect ending to a shitty day.” Ryan set his beer down and leaned his elbows on the bar.
His gaze flicked from the TV to Cam, then back again.
“So, uh…You ever hear what happened out there that night?”

His shoulders tensed.
They’d never talked about it.
Not even after the ramp ceremony when they’d escorted Ty’s casket during that never-ending flight from Bagram to Andrews Air Force Base.
The whole incident surrounding his death was still shrouded in secrecy like all Special Ops missions were.
“Some.
You?”

“Just what was in the after action report.” Ryan fiddled with the label of his Budweiser.
“I heard from some of the guys that he got cut off from the others.”

“Yeah, I heard that too.” Two other PJs had been out in that remote village with Ty, and neither of them knew what had happened to him after they’d taken the first casualties down the hillside for the evacuating choppers.
Another firefight had broken out between them and the Taliban, and by the time they’d gone back into the village for him, he’d already been dead.
“Visibility was the shits that night.”

“I remember.”

“It’s possible the fog and wind played a part.
I couldn’t see fuck-all when we finally got in there.” It was a miracle the pilot had gotten them to the LZ at all in those conditions.

Ryan nodded, still playing with his bottle.
“Think he was maybe captured for a while?
Would explain why nobody knew where he was until after the last air strike.”

“Don’t know, but he was still wearing his identifier on his sleeve when they found him.
If he’d been at risk of being taken prisoner, he would’ve torn that off in a hell of a hurry no matter how badly he’d been wounded.”

“Unless he was unconscious at the time.”

Yeah.
Cam shook his head.
“If I’d been team leader that night, he would’ve been wearing plates in his body armor.” A lot of guys took them out to lighten their load, but they might have saved Ty that night.

“Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, man.
He knew the risks.”

Cam looked down at the melting ice cubes in his drink and managed a nod.
It was hard to think of that happening to his best friend, dying out there alone, cut off from his PJ brothers.
Harder still to know he’d arrived too late to do anything but zip Ty into a body bag.
His fingers tightened around the tumbler.
“Can we talk about something else?”

Ryan straightened.
“Yeah.
Sorry, man.” He tipped his head back and drained the last of his beer.
After a long pause he exhaled hard and signaled the bartender.
Ryan indicated the empty scotch glasses with a nod.
“Bring us two more of those, thanks.”

Cam didn’t argue.
Some liquid anesthetic was welcome right now, especially if it meant he could get Ty and Devon out of his head for a little while.
His phone went off again.
His heart gave a hard thud when he saw the text message.

Be safe.
Dev.

He stared at the tiny screen, the ache beneath his ribs growing worse.
He could call her right now.
Dial her number already programmed into his phone and try to smooth this whole thing over before he took off.
The whole incident with her wasn’t sitting well with him.
At all
.
That sheen of tears in her eyes still cut him like a knife.
She’d looked at him like he’d damn well kicked her in the gut, when all he’d done was tell her how he felt.

“Bad news?”

Yes and no.
Her contacting him showed she cared and wasn’t entirely pissed at him, but she’d texted instead of calling because she didn’t want to talk to him.
“It’s Dev.
Saying goodbye.” He put the phone away.
Calling her would only make things worse, and he’d already dealt with more than enough shit today.

For once, Ryan didn’t have a snappy comeback.
Or at least if he did, he kept it to himself.
They sat in silence until the bartender set their drinks down.
Turning toward his closest remaining buddy, Cam raised his glass.
“To sleeping all the way to Bagram.”

Ryan tapped his glass against Cam’s.
“Fucking A, brother.”

West of Peshawar, Pakistan

Sadiq told himself it was the bitter wind coming down the mountains that made his eyes sting.
It had nothing to do with the fact he carried his beloved brother to an early grave.
Grieving would mean he questioned Allah’s divine will, and a devout Muslim would never do such a thing.

Yet a part of him did anyway.
Hassan had meant everything to him.
He’d been both father and mentor to him throughout his life, and his best friend.
Now Sadiq was truly alone in the world.

A large group of farmers and their families watched the procession.
Weathered faces and weary eyes followed him.
The high-pitched wail of the women’s cries lifted on the cold air and stoked his anger higher.
He stopped them with a single, scathing glare.
The awful caterwauling ended as quickly as if it had been cut with a blade, replaced by the eerie moan of the stiff wind.

As he walked he lowered his gaze to hide his contempt of the women who had made the offensive noise.
Their bleating expression of grief was not welcome here.
Hassan had died a devout Muslim, unafraid of death because he’d known he would be welcomed into paradise.
The peasant women’s racket only drew attention to the fact they were burying a loved one and would make their enemies rejoice in the death of yet another innocent brother in Islam.
Sadiq had no doubt some of them were watching right now.

A burning rage filled his heart.
The front right pole of the litter he and three other men from the village carried dug into his shoulder, but he didn’t adjust it.
Concentrating on the pain in his muscles kept him from wanting to scream from the agony within.

The gathered crowd began a mournful dirge.
Their voices rose into the clear air, rising and falling in eerie counterpoint to the constant wind.
Fine dust blew into his face as he positioned his brother’s body over the open grave and began lowering it.
Sadiq clenched his jaw as it disappeared from view into the yawning hole.
He alone had washed Hassan five times with camphor-scented water.
He alone had carefully washed the right arm and hand twice, then the left, before ending with his brother’s feet.
He alone had wrapped him in the precious kafan their grandmother had made.