SEALs of Honor: Mason (7 page)

Damn it. It was hot, too.

The bed sagged as Swede, at least she presumed it was him, sat down. She could hear the two of them mutter, but her own nerves, that horrible anticipation of oncoming pain blocked out any semblance of understanding. She started to shake.

“Okay, I’m going to start.”

Swede reached down and gripped both ankles firm against the edge the bed.

Cool water poured over her feet.

Her relief was palpable as the light liquid didn’t hurt – until the burn set in. She clenched her jaw and arched her back as the shock and agony ripped through.

But she never made a sound.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, all she could remember was his earlier message about needing to be quiet. But she wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Truly, she wanted to bawl her pain away. But held back. Locked into her position, her back arched, her arms rigid as her body fought against the agony.

“Jesus,” Swede said. “Hurry up.”

“I’m trying,” Mason muttered.

Whatever he did next brought her collapsing back down on the bed. She closed her eyes…and endured.

*

M
ASON LOOKED UP
at Swede then motioned toward Tesla’s head. “Is she out?” he said in a low voice. He figured she had to be as her feet lay soft and pliant in his hands. Since that first reaction she hadn’t moved.

Swede shook his head. “Her eyes are open.”

Shocked, Mason stretched up to take a look. Sure enough, she stared across the room to the wall on the other side. And a small steady stream of tears rolled down her cheeks.

But she never made a sound.

Affected more than he’d have thought possible, he gritted his jaw closed and returned to the task at hand. This was hurting him as much as her. And from the grim look on Swede’s face, he knew the big mammoth wasn’t unaffected either.

He took his time to make sure all the slivers and grime were out of the torn flesh. This time he dug deep, spreading the sliced flesh and cleaned. He hadn’t seen them all before and had missed several cuts. Now there was no room for error. She had everything from tiny pebbles buried in the puffy flesh to slivers. He thought there were tiny slivers of glass but couldn’t imagine from where. By the time he was done, blood ran freely down her foot. Knowing it was going to hurt, but not having much option, he dumped the last of the alcohol over her bare feet.

They jerked and twitched. Glancing upward he could see her white fingers grimly clenching the damn blankets, but she never made a sound. Her eyes though, Lord the look of pain almost broke his heart.

Swede handed him the bandages, cut up sheets had been sacrificed for the job.

Accepting them, he acknowledged the other man’s need to leave too. They both wanted to be done here. Torturing kittens was something they’d beat up another man for. But when they had to do it themselves… Well, neither man wanted any part of it.

Determined to make sure her feet would heal now, he smeared ointment across them then bandaged first one then the other. He carefully bound her feet and ankles, needing the bandages to be snug but not so tight as to hurt.

She might want to run away, but she’d be lucky to hobble anywhere for several days.

Would she hold her condition against him? She should.

He did.

Chapter 9

S
HE WASN’T SURE
at what point in the process she’d dropped into the dead zone. The point where she was still conscious but no longer concerned herself with the outside world as she was so focused on staying strong inside.

Her father had talked to her about it. Warned her that under horrible conditions, he’d often had to go there just to keep alive. Although she’d come close to that point in the cabin, tied up and lost, she’d still been outside. This time, with silence being paramount, she’d gone inside easily.

He’d been right. It was the place to go to survive.

She’d never have made it through that torture otherwise.

Even calling it torture made her wince. It was hardly that. But it had been painful as hell. Nothing compared to the psychos out there who really were into torture, but it had been enough for her. She couldn’t imagine if she was captured and taken overseas. She didn’t think she’d survive. She wasn’t like the strong men who’d rescued her. She couldn’t imagine the training they must have gone through.

She hoped she’d never have to go through anything worse than this. She almost laughed but as she was still not moving her feet in case they started pounding with pain, any sudden movement was out of the question.

She wiped her eyes on the sheet beneath her cheek, thankful the tears were long gone. She knew they’d have noticed. How could they not? But there were only so many things she could worry about.

Tears didn’t make it on that list.

But bawling like a weak wuss did.

She couldn’t remember how she’d been during the process. Hopefully she hadn’t shamed Harry or her father too much.

If she had, too damn bad. She was Tesla. Not their clones. She’d do her best, and if she didn’t match up to their expectations then…well, it wasn’t the first time.

A gentle hand lowered onto her shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

The voice so close to her ear made her freeze. Slowly she raised her head and looked around. Not only was she no longer crosswise on her bed, she was lying normally on one side, her feet propped up on pillows, the rest of her body covered by blankets. Her gaze slowly moved from her propped up feet to Mason’s jean covered legs and…she swallowed as her gaze wandered higher to his bare heavily muscled torso, up to the broad shoulders and his shadowed features, the narrow gaze full of concern…for her.

She wanted to smile.

Sexiest looking man ever. In her bed. And not for her. But
because
of her. Sigh. She managed a wan smile. “From the look on your face I guess I was in rough shape?”

His features relaxed and he lay back down on the bed. “You could say that. But looks like you’re back.”

He propped his arms under his head, but his gaze never wavered as he studied her face. Her face that felt like it had been pummeled with a hammer, hot, swollen.

“I am.” Now if only she understood where she’d been. She remembered a lot of last night. But not all of it. Evidently she’d dropped off to sleep at some point. She felt better. But a long way away from good yet. She forced her gaze away from his massive arms and stared down at the pillow in front of her. Tear stained, it showed the evidence of a hard night.

“Sorry for worrying you.”

He sat up, dropping his hands to rest on his knees. “Oh, we were worried all right. The fever broke finally, and I think we got that mess out of your feet.”

“Is that what the problem was?” Her gaze cut over to his. “My feet?”

“Yeah. Not sure if it was the slivers that were in there, the rocks you had embedded, or you’d been bitten. Honestly, they were so swollen, I couldn’t tell.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?” At his nod, she twisted around to take a more careful look at the bandages.

“So no dancing today, huh?”

His grin was wide and devilish. “Not unless it’s lap dancing.”

“Oh.” She blushed hot. “I’ll forego that pleasure for a while, thanks.”

“Too bad.” He hopped to his feet, bare feet, she registered at the last moment. “However, there are other priorities to consider.”

She struggled to sit up, relieved to see her bra and panties on. They covered more of her then her bikini. She was willing to overlook the feeling that they were more intimate. She flipped so she was sitting on her butt and checked out the room. It was the same as the one she’d gone to bed in. Good. At least she recognized her surroundings and that meant the bathroom was around the corner.

Damn.

As if understanding the uncertain woebegone look on her face, he walked around to her side of the bed and held out his arms. “Grab a hold.”

Flushing with embarrassment, she reached her arms around his neck and let him carry her to the bathroom. There he slowly lowered her to the toilet seat then stood there uncertainly.

“I’m fine,” she said hurriedly.

He narrowed his gaze and nodded. “I’ll let you try but if you can’t manage on your own…”

Her face now scarlet, and shaking wildly in denial of what he hadn’t said, she waited until he walked to the doorway and pulled the door partly closed. Without too much effort, she managed to shuffle her cotton panties down over her cheeks so she could relieve herself. She even managed to finish the job and get the panties back up. But the sink looked too damn far away to wash her hands. She was going to have to stand up.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly lowered her feet to the floor and using the toilet for support she pushed herself upright. And gasped. Choking back the other sounds threatening to rush out of her mouth, she swayed in place for a long moment while she adjusted to the pain and weird feeling of walking on flesh that felt twice the size it should be. But she could stand. And given the options, she’d take it. And if she could stand, she could walk.

She took one careful step and then another. With her legs braced against the cupboard and her elbows braced on the counter, she could wash her hands. Splashing water on her face, she felt much better. Turning, she looked into Mason’s face now standing in the open doorway frowning at her.

“I know,” she said gently. “You’d have helped me. But I needed to see how bad they were.”

The frown eased slightly. “I can understand that. But now back to bed.”

She nodded and this time, knowing what she could do and couldn’t, she reached out her arms. He was there in a single stride and swung her up against his chest. Back in the bedroom, he laid her down again.

“When am I being picked up?” she asked, pulling the blankets over her chest. A chill was settling in after just that little bit of movement. It didn’t say much for the day ahead. Not many men would be happy to carry her around. And while he saw her as a job and would do what was required, that didn’t mean the next group would. An idea struck. She glanced over at him, “Do you think…” she frowned now rethinking.

“What?”

She winced. “I was just wondering if a wheelchair would be possible once I’m taken out of here.”

“As you’ll be going to a hospital first to be checked over, then I would think that would be an obvious answer for a day or two. But more likely you’ll be confined to bed.”

“Damn,” she pleated the cotton sheet at her neck.

“What, you don’t like lying in bed?”

“Not alone.” Her unexpected answer brought a light of interest to his eyes and hot color to her cheeks again.

“That sounds interesting.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing interesting about me.”

Silence.

“Really?” But the note of incredulity had her frowning up at him.

“Yeah, really.”

His gaze searched hers. “Then you need to take another look in the mirror.”

She snorted. “I just did, remember.”

His grin was huge. “Yeah, you’re looking pretty beat up right now.”

She rolled her eyes at him, her hand instantly going to the side of her head that stung from the slivers.

“How come I’m the one that is all beat up and you guys are fine,” she complained, but in a light tone.

Swede chose that moment to walk into the bedroom.

He carried a huge mug.

She stared at it hopefully. “Is that coffee?”

He nodded.

But he stayed just out of reach.

“Could I have a cup, please?”

He rolled his eyes and stepped to her side and handed her the mug. “Man, you’re not even fun to tease right now. It’s like beating up a butterfly.”

She stopped in the middle of lifting his cup to her lips. A butterfly? She smiled. It could be worse.

*

M
ASON MOTIONED
S
WEDE
to the hallway.

“A butterfly?” he asked in low tones. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Swede grinned. “She’s lovely. And you’ll appreciate her more if you have to work for it. Besides, she can’t make a choice if she doesn’t know she has one.”

“Not you, too?” Mason groaned.

“Absolutely. We can recognize special, even if you can’t,” he said as he walked down the hallway.

“Who says I can’t?” Mason snapped.

At his friend’s rolling laughter, he realized he’d been had.

Damn. Leaning against the doorjamb he could recognize special just fine. Especially this kind of special. The trick was what was he going to do about it? Nothing. For the same damn reason he’d not gone to see her while Harry was alive or dead. And now that Harry was gone, she deserved to have a husband who was whole and home every day. The SEALs were his life. He’d made that decision a long time ago. It was better for everyone that way.

He turned away and came face to face with Hawk.

“I could have killed you just now. You’re so preoccupied with your personal life.” He snickered and motioned toward Tesla in bed. “And if you can’t see how much of a difference she’d make in your life, you’re a fool.” And he sauntered inside the room. “Hey, pretty lady. It’s my turn to be your guard.”

“Do I still need a guard?” Tesla asked. “I thought we were out of danger.”

“Until you are safe and sound and back home and these guys caught and dealt with, you aren’t out of danger. And let me rephrase. Mason needs a nap.”

“Oh dear. I never thought of that. Poor Mason.”

Mason rolled his eyes at Hawk’s blatant lie and stormed off.

They were all making him crazy.

Chapter 10

T
HEY WERE ALL
making her crazy. She was dressed in Shadow’s spare pants. Wore Mason’s spare shirt and had a rope from Swede’s pack to hold up her pants. On her feet she wore two pairs of socks, one from Hawk and one from Dane. They’d all contributed. She laughed at herself in the mirror. She’d never quite fit in with the current fashion but their generosity warmed her heart.

And walking was still horrible. As in seriously painful. But with the bandages and double socks, doable. And that was what counted. Walking slowly on her own steam was way better than being carried. Of course, if Mason gave her his arm to help for balance she wouldn’t argue.