Retribution (6 page)

He stiffened as if struck with a body blow. He straightened slowly, confusion beating a swift tattoo across his face. Finally, painful acknowledgement settled there. Painful for her anyway. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. And she wasn’t in any place to explain it to him.

“You don’t remember me,” he stated softly, something moving over his face so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it.

She would swear the fire in his Kelly green eyes had been banked by hurt. He seemed to shake it off and offered her his hand.

“I’m Dray Bonner. I was in town with these two and figured I’d stop by to check on you and see how you were progressing. The boys have kept me informed since we rescued you in Afghanistan. I wanted the opportunity to meet you under different circumstances.”

How was she going to carry off this farce? Itchy, Surrey, Con, and Bleak all knew she remembered Dray. Surely he knew she knew him? She’d had this irrational desire to strike out and hurt him by not acknowledging her awareness of who he was. Now that she’d done it, she felt hollow, like she’d carved a piece of herself out and stomped on it. The fleeting pain in his eyes cut her.

She looked at Itchy and Surrey; disapproval masked their faces.
Fuck it!
He’d left her, not the other way around. Hell, she didn’t even know him.

No, it was better this way. She was in no shape to begin anything with this man. He was way more than she could handle right now. Hell, she was probably more than he would
want
to handle right now. She might need him like the air she breathed, but she wouldn’t put him through her at this point. He didn’t deserve that. She was so emotionally unstable that even her family didn’t want to be around her much. So she made a decision she knew would deeply impact her life. She decided to continue down this path and let Dray go.

She gave him a neutral look and didn’t take his proffered hand. “That’s right. Now I remember you, Captain Bonner. It’s so nice of you to come and see me. The guys tell me that if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. So thanks are in order. As you can see, I’m struggling through a little rehabilitation on my hip, and since I’ve suffered through enough of Janie this morning, I’m gonna go shower, if you’ll all excuse me? Oh, y’all are welcome to come to the house tonight for supper. We always have enough. And Captain Bonner? My mama would love to meet you. Say you’ll all come tonight?”

She never met his eyes, just focused on his chin as she forced out the offer. Then she couldn’t take it anymore, and she looked away from his face entirely.

She was going to do this if it killed her. And it probably would. Sasha didn’t wait for his reply. She turned her chair around, dismissing all but Itchy, whom she asked to wheel her to the shower room entrance. Itchy shot a look at Dray, who stood stone-faced beside Surrey, and then slowly wheeled her to the entryway.

“Oh, you fucked that up but good, didn’t you?” Itchy whispered as he leaned down to her. Leave it to Itchy to get bare bones about it.

Her breath hitched. “I can’t do it, Itchy. He doesn’t deserve what I’m dishing out. He’s too much for me right now. I won’t ask him to wait for me to recover from this. Damn, and I need him too, Itch. I don’t understand it at all, but I really need,” she paused, “
him
.”

“Little bit, you have a huge decision to make ’cause I will not lie to Dray; he’s my brother. I will eventually have to tell him what you’ve told me and what I’ve heard late at night when everyone else is asleep but you—tossing and turning, calling his name. He’s as vested in this as you are, and you being a bitch to him, acting like you don’t remember him, isn’t going to help either one of you out. I don’t understand the why of it, but you two have a bond. Time isn’t going to make it go away, Sasha. Pushing him away isn’t going to get rid of it. Do what you have to do, but remember that Dray is all man and he’s solid. He will not let this go. You’ll have to face it eventually, and what you’re doing now could do more damage to him than you’ll be able to handle. You’re setting yourself up for lots of hard work down the road. But that’s you—hard-headed little wench ’til the end, right?” Itchy’s tone was slightly mocking.

“Thanks, Itchy; you’re a freakin’ insightful genius. I appreciate you wheeling me over. I’m gonna shower. You guys coming tonight?” She had to get to the shower before she broke down, turned around, and demanded Dray come to her immediately.

She was so broken inside tears wept from her heart, but not one was shed from her eyes. She couldn’t afford to be vested like this in a man she didn’t even know. She could only hope she was making the right decision.

Itchy glanced back at Surrey and Dray, but she kept her gaze on him.

He nodded in the negative and simply said, “We’ll see you later, Sash. Keep up the bitching and maybe
everybody
will leave you alone.” With those quiet, meaningful words, Itchy walked away to join Dray and Surrey.

Sasha wheeled herself into the shower room where she sobbed underneath the viciously hot water. She sobbed until she was left gasping from the pain of her decision, and still it wasn’t enough.

She’d begun causing everyone around her heartache. Better she meld into herself than to spread her venom around. The hole she’d made for herself was huge, so she stepped into it and covered herself up.

*

Dray had been watching her since the beginning of her session earlier that day. He admired her grit and unwillingness to give up. She may bitch the entire time, but she finished her exercises. Something had to be wrong with her recovery. She hadn’t progressed as she should, and it worried him. As he’d watched her earlier with hawk-like intensity, he watched her now as she left the rehab facility, wheeled by her sister Sadie. Sasha’s beautiful face was a mask of anguish, and her eyes were red from crying.

Her pain was obvious and it cut him. He’d wanted to ease her, calm her, and show her he’d never left her, even if he had been absent physically. Surrey, Itchy, Con, and Bleak had kept him informed of her condition. Itchy made regular visits to Atlanta to see her and reported to the entire team. Dray got the feeling that it may not be Sasha so much as one of her sisters Itchy wanted to check on, but hey, it worked and he got first-hand information. Who cared why he visited as long as he did.

After months of surveillance on el-Din as he tried to find the leak in Command, Dray had three days stateside to meet with General Post. He’d made the decision to finally meet up with Sasha while she was awake and lucid.

What a huge mistake. She hadn’t looked at him; she’d looked
through
him. His guts were still lying on the floor of the rehab center. He thought he’d glimpsed something in her eyes before a veil dropped over them, but then she’d been nothing more than a polite stranger offering thanks for saving her life.

He was such a fool. Months of holding onto a woman he didn’t even know and who he realized might not ever remember him had come to naught. Apparently their connection had been one-sided. But damn if he could stop himself from seeing her and damn if he’d just walk away from her. She might need time to get herself together, to get a handle on the pain and difficulty of the situation. Then maybe he could come back here and meet her for the first time the second time.

He wasn’t going to be able to untangle himself from this, from her, but he could shut it down and put it in his subconscious so he could operate day-to-day without feeling the hole in his soul.

He turned to Surrey. “What’s her status?”

Surrey took a deep breath. “She’s struggling. The pain is unmanageable for her at this point and that’s not normal. You saw what she went through when we extracted her. She’s got a high pain tolerance. Her doctors think she should be farther along in the healing process. She’s scheduled for a recheck in two days. According to Itchy, she isn’t sleeping, she’s having night terrors, and she continues to lose weight.”

Dray’s breath locked in his throat. He pushed down the pain and got to business. “Any whispers or strange activity around her?”

“Not that anyone has reported. Itchy stays close. Con has his ear to the ground too. Nothing much gets by us, Dray. When I hear from her doctor in a couple of days, I’ll let you know what he thinks about her recovery. If we hear anything, you’ll be the first to know,” Surrey reassured him. “What’s the next step? Has el-Din come out of hiding yet?”

“I’m returning to Afghanistan in two days, meeting up with Bleak and Con, and you’re coming on a day later. Itchy stays here. We’re going after el-Din. Post thinks he’s tapped into the weapons pipeline through an al-Qaeda link, and he needs to be eliminated.”

Dray allowed himself to go flat. Shut down. It was the only way to get through her rejection.

“The money’s good on this one. It might put us so far in the black we’ll be able to ditch Uncle and take only the missions we want.”

Dray had retired from the military and, along with his brother, created a security company they called Presidio. Surrey, Bleak, Con, and Itchy had also opted in as partial owners, but they were still enlisted and only able to join them on side jobs when they weren’t on missions of their own. General Post made sure that, more often than not, they were able to freelance with Presidio. Post’s primary goal was the end of el-Din and to find the leak at Command.

“The primary benefit is that Sasha won’t have to worry about el-Din ever again. So we’re on it. Should be a five-day mission, tops. We’ll be back stateside in a week. Here’s Itchy; let’s roll,” Dray said.

The sooner they left, the sooner he could return. He’d show her he wouldn’t give up no matter what she placed before him. She didn’t know it, but he’d claimed her before she’d left him in Afghanistan.

Eventually, there’d be no more running.

Present Day

Outskirts of Kabul, Afghanistan

Sasha hated this damn country. If it weren’t for a promise made, she’d have happily never stepped foot in this God-forsaken place ever again. They’d missed a sand storm by about an hour, and the air was redolent with heavy, oppressive heat. The soaring black mountains in the distance and the sounds of men speaking Pashto threatened to suck her back into a vortex of pain and disillusionment. No doubt about it, everything about her surroundings, including the bumpy road they were traveling, reminded her of another ride she’d taken a year and a half ago.

That one hadn’t ended pleasantly.

She braced herself as the driver applied the brakes hard, skidding for a few seconds before the Jeep came to a stop.

“Damn it, Sasha. What the hell are we doing here again?” Hal’s voice rang out in the sudden silence.

The shrill demand jerked Sasha out of her musings. She brought her gaze to her sister’s. Hal’s face was drawn tight. Concern deepened the laugh lines around her mouth, and her eyes displayed a concern that had chills breaking over Sasha’s skin. Disquiet skated razor blades down her spine. A stopped vehicle was probably not a good thing—they were nowhere near their destination. She pulled her scarf down and peered out grimy windows. Vague shapes took form outside the Humvee, and she used the scarf to wipe away some of the dust off the cracked piece of glass.

“I asked you a question,” Hal reminded her.

Tension snaked along her shoulders, settling in a ball at the base of her skull. “Shut it, Hal,” she whispered furiously as her eyes took in the scene outside their vehicle. Her body went cold. “If you don’t zip it, we’re going to be taking the midnight train to hell instead of home. Lift your scarf, keep your eyes down, and don’t look at anybody. If they ask for your passport, give it to them, you understand me?”

Sasha regretted, more and more every second, her decision to let her little sister come with her. Not that she’d
let
her, really; Hal had just kind of forced herself into this little operation. She should be back home taking the bar exam, but instead, she’d demanded to tag along with her big sister, probably hoping to keep Sasha from getting hurt again. And wasn’t that just damn funny, or not so much.

A shout and muffled grunt drew her attention back outside the vehicle. Several armed men surrounded their ten-vehicle convoy. They were interrogating each of the drivers. Wicked looking AK-47s pointed in all directions, the threat clear, unmistakable. Their faces were covered, but she recognized them for what they were—Taliban fighters looking for weapons, money, maybe somebody to kidnap.

Been there, done that.

She’d returned to this hellhole not even three hours ago and had already landed in trouble.

“You brought your papers, right, Hal?” Panic clawed its way up her throat, and she took several deep breaths, forcing it down. “Please tell me you have your papers.”

Hal shot her a nasty look. “Yes,
mother
, I have them. How long will this take, do you think?” she asked as she gazed out the dirty window of the Humvee. “I knew I should’ve told Itchy what you were up to,” she mumbled.

“I have no idea,
child
, just keep your pants on and don’t open your mouth. For God’s sake, don’t open your mouth.” She turned to Benny. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asked her guide in Pashto, the area’s indigenous language.

He replied in the same. “I don’t know. Please sit still. Be very quiet and don’t look at them.”

She’d used Benny, a tribal Afghani from the northern part of the country, on previous excursions through Afghanistan. He was supplemented by her former employer, People for Freedom. Since she was freelance this go-round, she was paying him out of her pocket. He was dependable and had proven he could keep his mouth shut. She’d approached him in the market earlier, and he’d vowed to get her to her final destination in the desolate Hindu Kush with “no problems.”

Sure
. “No problems” was probably a Pashto euphemism for “screwed up the wazzoo.”

There was a light sheen of sweat on Benny’s face, and the way his mouth drew down had her stomach knotting. Her heart tripped hard, struggling to keep up with the blood pounding swiftly through her veins. The chills multiplied, spreading over her entire body. She threw Hal a warning glance before she looked back out the window. The men were clearing the vehicles, yelling at the occupants, and making a beeline toward their Humvee.