Justice (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 2) (17 page)

Call of Duty

“CHRIST. YOU GAVE ME a scare.” I gulped for breath, hiding my head against her hip.

“I’m okay I think.” She pulled me up and kissed my cheeks before her hands found mine. “Are you?”

“No.” I laughed shortly. “Not at all. Don’t you ever do that again. You about killed me.”

I bent toward her lips, plunging inside the sweet hot wetness I remembered. That time, salty tears slid to my tongue. Hers and mine.

“Oh my!” She doubled her hands around my neck. “You really do love me.”

“Tilly girl—”

Her laugh looped around me. “I love it when you call me that.”

She met me for another deep kiss before resting back. “Oh
Lawd
, I’m tired.”

Sitting beside her, I pulled her fingers to my face, my neck, my mouth.

“My dad?” she asked.

“Fine. He’s here somewhere. He’s not happy about us—”

The door swung open, and Lawless barreled toward the bed. “Matilda! Good God. You’re not to get harmed or sick ever again.”

“I won’t. I promise. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Lawless nearly body-checked me off the bed before he pulled Tilly into his arms. I stood a few paces away, giving him his moment, knowing the same relief poured through him as me.

But when he let her go, his gaze immediately locked on me. “About the two of you. I won’t abide it.”

“Daddy!” Tilly raised herself on shaking arms, and her voice held a sting. “You have no right telling me—
us
—what to do.”

The obstinate man wedged himself between us. “I knew he had his sights on you the second he saw you.”

“That’s not true. His job was to keep you safe, get you out, and that’s exactly what Justice did.”

“He took advantage of you.”

“You’re being ungracious, Daddy.” Short of breath, Tilly leaned against a pillow. Her brow looked sweaty and waxy.

I took a step forward only to be barred by Lawless.

“You want to know the truth?” She lashed out at her father. “I wanted
him
. He tried to stay away, told me he wasn’t the right man for me, and made me angry in every way possible so I’d leave him alone. And I still went after him.” She sat forward. “For once in my life I went for what
I
wanted!”

“He’s not worthy of you.”

Tilly slammed her palms onto the bed. “Who are you to decide that? Why, you’d rather have me paired off with Nobody Peabody when Justice
saved
my life. And he saved yours too!”

Her monitors started going haywire, and she looked ready to pull needles out of her veins so she could go thrash her dad a good one.

I craned forward, wanting to comfort her. But I wondered if Lawless was right?

I didn’t deserve her.

And she didn’t need this trouble.

Heart sore, I fell back. “I’ll go.”

Her eyes filled to the brink before her tears brimmed over, liquid trails from her wide green eyes. “Please don’t.”

But Lawless stood between us, and everything he’d said had been on repeat since the moment I’d met Tilly.

She was too good.

Too worthy to be mine.

I’d gotten her hurt.

I’d had her knowing I could promise nothing more.

With a grim face, I backed out of the door. Outside I took three large paces down the hall before I spun around and punched the wall with all the self-rage tearing me up inside.

“That bad,
huh
?” Walker had approached soundlessly.

“And worse.”

“How I felt about letting Jade go. But she came back to me.”

I felt like a ghost inside my own skin.

Empty.

Hollow.

Lesser.

“Tilly won’t. She shouldn’t if she knows what’s good for her.”

I swallowed.

Did an about face.

Stomped out of the hospital.

During the final two days of her convalescence, I returned. I couldn’t help it. Stubbornly clinging to my enforced estrangement, I didn’t enter Tilly’s room no matter how many times she asked for me.

I’d been broken down.

I knew my absence hurt her—Walker, Storm, and Bane didn’t need to tell me, but that didn’t stop them from letting me know just how much of a dick I was being:

“You’re probably the biggest asshole I ever met. Leaving a woman like that.”

“She wants to talk to you, brah.”

“Dumb fuck.”

I paid the price of leaving her alone. Sleepless nights. Waking hours that tore me apart. Minutes lost when I could’ve been holding her hands, kissing her lips, keeping her against me.

She was weak but alive and improving every day.

Me?

I didn’t get any better.

When word came she was ready to be transported back to the states, where Ambassador Lawless would eventually be assigned to another foreign outpost, where Miss Blaize Carmichael would demand a full debriefing and dish out one of those verbal ass-kickings she was so talented at . . . All I thought about was Tilly.

The soft and sexy southern woman would return to Savannah and her job with a camera slung around her neck and men probably tripping all over themselves to get to her.

My battles wounds wouldn’t heal so easily. I’d have to let her go. In many ways, I’d already begun the process.

The worst was yet to come.

I sealed myself inside an emotionless void. I’d been there many times before.

We left Sana’a, Yemen, the same way we’d come in—off grid. The only difference that time was Tilly got front-door service from the hospital and she sat up front with Storm while the rest of us loaded into the back.

The same road back to Al Anad airbase in Lahj Province. The same C-12 Huron Storm had flown into Yemen.

I watched as Tilly was loaded onto the airplane, and my heart stuck in my throat. She didn’t need a gurney anymore or even a wheelchair, and damn straight she made sure everyone knew it as she seated herself with a flip of her hand at us, four huge men plus her fretting father, standing around looking like jackasses.

“What are y’all staring at? I’m not about to faint on you or anything.” She snapped the seatbelt across her waist and peered up, half-amused, with the shimmering green eyes I’d never forget.

I sat in the rear of the plane, studying the back of her head during the entire flight to DC. Her hair was loose and golden-red, like a halo with its wonderful curls I wanted to feel tumbling through my hands again.

I knew exactly when she drifted off to sleep because her head flopped for a moment. I rose to find her a pillow, but Lawless was there first. He cushioned her head with a pillow, covered her with a blanket, then stepped into the aisle.

Seeing me halted on my way toward Tilly, he bore down on me with a clear warning on his face. “She doesn’t need you to see to her.”

I clamped my jaw shut, hot pressure filling my chest.

“You’ll go right back to putting your life in danger, which is absolutely no place for my daughter, now is it?”

“No. Sir.” I chopped out the words.

“You and I both know why she’s better off without you.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’d damn well
love
her better than any other man ever could because only I knew how bright her spirit was, how much she was capable of, how good and gorgeous and strong-willed she was, but I bit it back.

All I acceded to was, “If you won’t let me look after her, then I expect you to.”

“I expect I won’t have to for long.” Lawless looked smug and satisfied, and I wanted to punch him right in the face. “A good man will snap her up soon enough.”

My fists formed at my sides. But I backed down and returned to my seat.

Tilly woke up later, and I maintained my distance, every precious minute I remained away from her feeling like some kind of death sentence.

I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. And when we landed I watched with a heavy soulless heart as Tilly prepared to disembark.

From that point forward, I wondered if my life would always feel so empty.

Finally I spoke up, directly to Lawless who held Tilly’s elbow in his hand. “I want a few minutes alone with her.”

That time I was merciless, drilling him with a hard glare until he nodded and moved along behind the others.

Now that I had her to myself I had no idea what to say, no way to make things right.

“I’ve stayed away from you on purpose.”

Tilly’s head cocked, and soft, sad green eyes met mine. “I know. I resent it, but I know.”

“Are you going to be understanding about this?” I wanted to drag her to me for a kiss, a wild, savage wet plundering of a kiss, but I stood there, stock still, saying stupid shit instead.

Her laugh was brief and cutting. “Would you expect me to shriek at you?” Her chin turned up, her eyes moved away. “We hardly know each other, really.”

I ran my hand from her shoulder to her hand, fitting our palms together. A pulse leaped in her neck, and her gaze returned. With it the full import of what I was doing, what I was letting go.

Tilly’s lips parted, and she scanned my face—my mouth I wet and wished was on hers, my cheeks that flushed because this was so fucking hard, my eyes I closed because I wasn’t sure I’d be strong enough to do what I had to.

Every part of me hurt as words circled in my head.

Please go. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t look at me like I’m a man you want when I’m the worst possible choice in the world.

I brought her fingers to my lips and listened to her soft sweet gasp.

Don’t make me want, Tilly. 

I opened my eyes and looked at her above the fingertips I kissed before placing them on my chest where I held them against the pounding of my heart.

Don’t make me feel. It’s been too long, and it hurts worse than bullets, burrows even deeper in my flesh, my heart. 

“This is goodbye, isn’t it?” Her voice trembled.

Her eyes blinked.

Her fingers curled against my shirt.

“Yes.”

“For good.”

I nodded.

“Why?”

I kissed her on the cheek and breathed against her just once as the hair at her temple tickled my nose. “You know why.”

She slid her hand from my grasp. “No. The only thing I know for sure is we’ll never get a chance to find out.”

Swallowing, I stepped back from her.

She became the strong one, a trait I’d always admired in her. “I’m not going to cry over you, Justice.”

At her cool words, my throat tightened another notch. I thought I might be the one who broke down.

“Tilly,” my voice cracking, I reached out for her.

She recoiled. “No. You don’t get to say my name in that tone of voice, and you certainly don’t get to touch me.”

A sinking void opened up in my body, sucking any future, any possibility of hope, down into it.

Staring at a fixed point above my head, she wouldn’t even meet my eyes. “Go on then. Goodbye, Justice.”

I memorized her in a final glance, and spun away before tears could fall from my eyes. I rubbed angrily at my face, pausing at the gangplank for a second. “I still love you, Tilly.”

And I left with the quickening sound of her rising sobs behind me.

The rest was a blur as I contained emotions I could barely hold in check. I couldn’t watch Tilly emerge from the plane several minutes after me. Couldn’t even look at her. If I did I’d fall apart, especially if her eyes were puffy or the tip of her pretty nose pink from crying.

The ambassador and his daughter were dispatched after gruff words of thanks spoken—from Lawless—and Tilly exchanged hugs with the three other men. For me, she had nothing.

New handlers drove them away. No doubt there’d be press conferences and meetings with the Secretary of State, probably even the POTUS.

And life would go back to normal.

“Blaize will want a debriefing,” Storm mentioned as I watched the black unmarked SUV carrying its precious cargo away.

“Blaize can go straight to hell for all I care.” I stalked away, out of the dark hangar with one intent only.

To get good and goddamn drunk.

Never Look Back

I FELT LIKE A bear jabbed a hundred times too many during the long days and the even longer nights that followed. Sleeplessness caused by being on duty was a hell of a lot different than the tossing and turning alone in a big bed because I missed one woman.
Tilly.

She’d made me more than this shell of a man.

I snapped whenever anyone dared speak to me.

I drank just to forget.

I fucked no-name women, shamefully searching for a replacement for the one who’d never be replaced.

This unnamed pain proved to be more traumatic than any bullet wound or knife stab or fistfight.

I sat slouching and withdrawn through the expected ass-reaming from Blaize as she lit into me about not following protocols—
protocols
? We had no goddamn protocols other than survival, killing our intended targets, and getting our asses, and our assets, to safety.

When
Mizz
Carmichael finally ran out of hot air, and I’d bitten my tongue so many times I thought for fucking sure it must be bleeding, she relented with an approving smile.

Walker, Bane, and Storm—
especially Storm
—whipped their heads up then flipped their silent stares to me. Blaize was such a fucking ballbuster she rarely bestowed a smile and never one so genuine.

I sat up straighter.

Blaize rose from her chair and paced toward me while her heels clickety-clacked on the floor. “Regardless of your unauthorized methods, nice job, Justice.”

She held out her hand.

I shook it guardedly, wondering if she wasn’t just aiming to get close enough to take a crack at me.

Then she laughed.

And the sound reverberated around the room, pleasant and light . . . and really fucking weird.

Storm was so fucking smitten his eyes remained riveted to this new,
pleasant
side of our boss lady. If nothing else, we’d be able to razz him about it later.

Withdrawing to the opposite side of the table, Blaize folded her hands in front of her. “As you know, James Lawless and I are old friends.”

He was old enough to be her father.

Which made me think about Tilly.

And I noticed Blaize’s russet red hair was several shades darker than Tilly’s wavy apricot-honey tresses.

I shut down the thought of her, the memories too close to the surface.

“The ambassador was highly impressed with your teamwork and ingenuity. He had only the highest accolades for you specifically, Justice.”

I wondered if I’d heard correctly.

My mouth jaw probably dropped open.

The
ambassador
would’ve liked nothing more than to throw me in the path of the gunmen. Of
that
I was certain.

“He also stated you took the best possible care of Matilda, whom I’m fond of myself. For that I give my personal thanks.”

At her mention of Tilly, the dudes’ heads again swung to me.

“Part of the job.” I made my mouth work, wondering when my heart would stop fucking stampeding at the thought of Tilly.

“Nevertheless, a damn good job. You’re all dismissed. Three weeks leave unless something vital comes up.”

We scraped our chairs back, but Blaize interrupted one last time. “Except for you, Storm. Could you stay for a minute?”

His eyes turned owlish and his skin flushed beneath the dark stubble carefully shaped on his jaw and cheeks.

Jesus Christ. Making fun of him later would be worth the earlier beat down from Blaize.

“Sure,
Mizz Cahmichael
,” he drawled, his L’isiana Cajun boy accent lazily spinning through his words.

It was the funniest damn thing I’d ever witnessed. The big, hard, black-haired operative half-rising from his seat as if he was bowing to his ladylove.

Fucking mating rituals if I ever did see them. Even better? Blaize seemed impervious to the way she affected Storm.

I’d seen the man turn heads without even trying, and when he did turn on that slow heat and southern charm the chicks went all melty and dropped their panties before he even had to ask.

The boss lady, on the other hand, hardly batted an eyelash.

Oh, he’d definitely met his match in Blaize, and she didn’t even know it yet.

I kinda wanted to stay put and watch the sparks fly, but Walker prodded me in the back. “C’mon, pretty boy.”

“Shut it, Injun.”

“You know, that shit’s discriminatory and I could take offense.”

I snorted through my nose. “Remember that the next time you call one of us gringo or cracker or thug or—”

“Kemosabe,” Bane supplied.

“Yeah,” I added.

Up the three levels of stairs, past the motion sensors, out onto the street, we filed.

“So. You’re joking around again, Jus. Feeling better about Tilly now?” Walker asked.

The sunlight gave his dark braid midnight blue hues.

I kicked the toe of my boot against the sidewalk, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. Fucking peachy.” I grimaced more than smiled. “Can’t you tell?”

“You know, a good friend of mine once told me you can’t fight love.”

“And who the hell was that? The Dali Lama? Or let me guess . . . Madge?”

“No. Hunter.”

I snorted again. “Good for him and that chick he married. JB.” I popped him lightly on the chest. “And good for you and Jade too. But that ain’t happening.”

Bane stood by the side of us, lighting a cigarette.

I thought about heading up to New York and my sad-ass studio where I didn’t even have a fucking dog to keep me company. “Anyone wanna get a drink?”

“Flight to catch,” Walker said.

“Shit to do.” Bane used up his last three words of the day.

“Well, fuck you both then.” I kicked the pavement one final time. “See you on the killing fields.”

****

I returned to my warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. It
did
look like hell after Walker’s little escapade—you know, since it’d been a fucking federal crime scene T-Zone had somehow got swept under the rug. I didn’t have the heart to set shit to rights.

I visited my folks and spent an evening with them in their swanky penthouse apartment. Something hit me—hard and fast—as I watched them sneak a kiss while they loaded the dishwasher together: thirty years after they’d fallen in love they were still going strong.

It wasn’t about money or lavish belongings, social standing or their careers. They were successful
together.

They never asked directly what my job was because they knew, after I separated from the Marines, it was strictly off limits—just as love was to me now.

I knew all they wanted was my happiness however it happened. It wasn’t their disappointment that curdled my stomach, but my own.

I’d thought—
hoped
—maybe it was just the intensity of the situation in Sana’a, and once back stateside I’d get over Tilly.

I’d forget about how close she’d almost come to dying and how the pain had engulfed me, more terrifying than any I’d ever known.

I’d stop dreaming about her fingers on my skin and her mouth pressed against my lips and her hair teasing down my chest before she made me feel like my body would combust with one more touch of her lips, fingers, mouth, tongue.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

Even the mindless sex I had . . .
Christ
. I tuned out. I was turned off. It was as pointless as jerking off into my hand. I closed my eyes and saw Tilly instead of whatever woman I’d picked up. I touched naked skin and remembered all the freckles I’d memorized. Sometimes I worried I wouldn’t be able to get it up. The equipment didn’t fail, but I had no moves, and I didn’t want something fleeting and fake and forgettable.

In the end, I kept tabs on Tilly instead.