Going In Blind_Brotherhood Protectors World Page 23

  “On some dirt road, just inside the Montana state lines. And you know what. This silent treatment. So, spill.”

  Her eyes widened, those beautiful blue irises staring right at him. Even without seeing him, he knew she was aware of him on a level that transcended sight. That was etched into their DNA. That she knew the minute his mouth pinched tight or his brow lifted.

  Her neck muscles tensed as she swallowed, her gaze finally dipping to somewhere on his chest. “I’m fine. Everything’s…fine.”

  Did she honestly think he’d buy that? The strained voice, the waver in her pitch—as if she was fighting back tears.

  He reached for her—cupped her jaw as he thumbed the corner of her mouth. Fuck, she was just so beautiful. It hurt his eyes to look at her. “Fine. You’re fine?”

  Her bottom lip trembled—her eyes welling with tears as she nodded, all the warm, healthy color draining from her face.

  “Fuck this.”

  Rigs moved. Leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her, and bodily lifted her onto his lap. He shoved his seat back, giving her room to sit without her ass hugging the steering wheel, then waited. Addison seemed stunned, as if she hadn’t thought him grabbing her had been a possibility. That it hadn’t registered as a possible outcome to her answer. She remained stiff against him for nearly a minute before finally melting into his embrace.

  He grunted, held her close then waited, again. It was coming. He knew it. It was there in the way she trembled in his arms, the awkward way she swallowed—as if having to force it down. She was only seconds away from…

  Her chest constricted, then the tears came. Huge gut-wrenching sobs that shook her entire body. Rigs sighed, holding her close, gently rocking her. He didn’t ask her to stop. To pull it together. This is what he’d been waiting for.

  She buried her face in his neck, her tears hot against his skin then soaking through the neckline of his shirt. He didn’t care. She could ruin every piece of clothing he owned if it made her feel better. Relieved the tension that had been straining her muscles since the raid. Since her sight had fled, once again.

  He suspected that’s what this was about. But he wanted her to tell him. Feel comfortable enough to lean on him. Expose herself. Only then, would she believe him. When she was raw. Vulnerable. That’s when he’d convince her—prove to her—that he was there. Would be there. Always. He wasn’t sure if he’d get the words, “I love you,” out, but he’d make sure she knew.

  Addison clung to him, the horrible tremors finally abating. Leaving her balled in his lap, her breath washing over his damp skin, her fingers biting into his neck. He smoothed a hand down her hair, leaving his fingers pressed on the small of her back when she finally eased away. She snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, her cheeks dotted with tears. God, she looked so lost. So damn gorgeous, he wasn’t sure whether to sit there and stare at her or capture her lips in his.

  A watery sniffle, then a sigh. “Sorry.”

  He grunted. “Nothing to be sorry about. It’s been quite the week, though I have a feeling this isn’t about the bad guys that were gunning for you.”

  She shook her head, blonde hair swaying across her shoulders, gleaming golden in the sun. She opened her mouth, then closed it, pursing those full lips together until they blanched white. She tried, again, having the same luck as before.

  Rigs sighed. “You know you can tell me anything, right? Anything, and it won’t change how I feel about you. Nothing will, not even death, so…”

  Her eyes widened, her lips falling apart. He couldn’t help himself. He pushed up, touched his mouth to hers. It was supposed to be soft. Just a physical reassurance that he really was there. That he’d stand by her. But it morphed into heat. Into tongues and lips and bodies writhing against each other.

  He didn’t know how she ended up with her shorts and panties on the seat beside them, his jeans shoved down over his knees. He swore he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t lifted his hands from her hair and back. Hadn’t let her go long enough to breathe, let alone strip them halfway bare. But there they were. Her body above his, her warm wet sheath slowly sinking down his shaft.

  He felt every inch. Every hot glide of her skin against his. The way her walls contracted with each tilt of her hips. The gravelly sound from deep inside her chest that clawed free, echoing around them until it consumed him. Blocked out every other noise. Everything but the frantic beating of his own heart.

  It hammered inside his head, threatening to simply explode with every pass. She was moving faster, now. Up and down, riding him hard. Her hair fell in a curtain around his face, all that soft, silky mass running across his scars. He had a moment of fear—of the long tresses catching on his rough flesh—but it vanished the moment her lips touched his, again.

  That kiss. Long. Desperate. As if her life depended on his response. On how hard he clung to her. On the raspy growl that sounded between them when she lifted just enough to reposition her mouth. Suck in some air. Then, she was back. Lips melding together, their bodies straining toward a pinnacle so high, he wasn’t sure he’d ever hit the ground once he fell.

  She did that to him. Took him someplace beyond his physical being. To where it was nothing but senses. Her heat. His strength. Their love.

  Rigs thrust up into her, wanting to banish the last of her doubts. To prove this was exactly where she needed to be. Where she’d always belong as long as he was alive. Was breathing. Even after, his ghost would follow her. Be there to vanquish any threat. It was the only way he could justify what she did to him. How strongly he loved her.

  Addison gasped, her head falling back as she arched over his arms. Then, she was coming. Hard, strong contractions around his shaft as she convulsed in his lap. Eyes squeezed shut. Muscles flexed. He pushed into three more times then exploded, just like one of his bombs. It shattered him, broke him apart. Leaving nothing of the hardened soldier behind.

  Rigs was gone. But Kent was back. Holding her in his arms. Every part to him exposed. Her forehead fell to his, her arms limp at her sides as she collapsed on him. Their harsh breaths sounding in time to the thundering of his heart. Hers was thundering, too. Matching his beat for beat. In perfect sync.

  He closed his eyes, content to sit there. Hold her until she was ready. A minute. Ten. All night. However long it took. Because she was his. Completely. He knew it. Sensed it all the way to his toes. This incredible woman belonged to him.

  Addison took a few shuddering breaths, finally smiling against his lips. “God, Kent.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll take that as an indication it was just as earth-shattering for you as it was for me.”

  “That went beyond earth-shattering. That was supernova. A complete obliteration of energy at the atomic level. Christ, I swear I saw stars…”

  Her voice hitched. That word. Saw.

  Rigs sighed, smoothed his hands down her hair, then moved them to cup her face. Prevent her from turning away. “Talk to me. Please, sweetheart. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  Though, he knew. It was stamped across her face.

  Addison stared sightlessly into his eyes, more tears pooling in hers. “It’s…stupid. After everything we’ve been through, it seems…selfish to get so upset over one detail. We could have died. Hell, you and your friends risked everything to help me. I should be happy. I have you. I have Blade. I have everything I need, but…”

  He swallowed. God, it hurt to see her like this. “But…”

  She hiccupped, looking as if she was going to burst into tears, again, before nodding. Holding them at bay. “I’m…blind. God, I can barely say it. Before… I always believed that I’d beat this. Maybe not in the way you and your friends know you’ll be successful on an op, but it was always in the back of my mind. That once I remembered who’d killed Will—made them pay—that I’d open my eyes, and it would all be okay. That I’d be…whole.”

  She choked back a few sobs, swiping angrily at a few tears that broke free—cascaded d
own her cheeks. “But here I am. With everything to live for. With Will’s killers, my fucking colleagues—men I would have died to protect—locked away or dead, and I’m still in the dark. Still…broken. And I can’t help but wonder if it’s too late. If I missed my opportunity to heal. That I’ll be like this for the rest of my life. A liability to you. To your team. I—”

  He kissed her. Shut her up, if he was honest, because she was going somewhere dark. Someplace she wouldn’t come back from, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. Let her slide into an abyss.

  He’d been there. Had managed to claw his way out, and it was mostly because of her. Because she’d looked beyond the scars, beyond his own demons, and loved him anyway. Despite the barriers he’d put between them. Now… Now, it was his turn. To save her the way she’d saved him.

  Addison pursed her lips when he pulled back, adorable lines creasing her brow. He took a moment to put her features into memory. To add to the ones he’d already created.

  He breathed in her scent, smoothing out the bridge of her nose. “It’s not selfish. And it’s not stupid. What you’ve gone through… Christ, sweetheart. It would have killed a lesser person. But not you. You’re strong and smart and caring, and so damn resilient, I can’t believe you ever took a chance on me. I keep pinching myself to test if this is all just a dream. If maybe I died back in that rubble. That this has all just been my brain slowly dying. Living the most wonderful life before shutting down for good.”

  He moved his hands along her face, down her shoulders to cup her waist. “But it’s not. You’re real. What we have is real. Do I want you to see, again? Fuck yeah. But not because it’s important to me. That it would change how I feel. But because it’s important to you. To who you want to be. Either way, I’m here.”

  Silence.

  Utter silence as she stared at him, eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Then, she moved her hands to his chest—one over those hideous raised lines running across his flesh. She stayed that way for what felt like hours. Her body still above his, his damn dick still semi-hard inside her. He wasn’t sure what she was searching for, but she smiled, and his heart thumped hard against his ribs.

  “I believe you. I can…feel it. You really don’t care if I’m blind. You don’t see me as a burden. You…”

  Love me.

  That’s what she was going to say. And damn, it was true. Though, even love felt like an inadequate word. What he felt for her went soul deep. Was burned into every cell, every neuron.

  He kissed her. Again. This time to stop her from voicing what was pulsing through his veins. Likely glowing around him like a damn beacon. Yes, he loved her. But he wanted to be the one to say it. To see her reaction when he spoke words he’d never said to anyone. Ever.

  But not like this. In the front seat of his damn truck. Still joined. Their clothes scattered around them. Not when she was this vulnerable, when she might think he was saying what she needed to hear.

  No, he wanted to take her by surprise. When she least expected it. When she’d know it was real. Genuine. Unwavering.

  Addison chuckled when he finally let her breathe. “Don’t think I’m not aware what you’re doing. I’m on to you, soldier.”

  Yeah, she was. But he didn’t care because the light was back in her eyes. Light and warmth and fuck, love for him. Him!

  “You’re too smart for your own good. Now, can we get to my cabin, or are we spending the night here? Because once barely took the edge off. I need to spend hours touching you. Convincing myself you’re okay. That I didn’t damn near get you killed. And I’d rather have a bed for that. For the number of times I’m going to need to make love to you. But I can adapt if necessary.”

  A delightful blush crept into her cheeks then down her chest. Damn, she was adorable.

  She looked about to answer when a low, playful bark sounded behind them. She blushed deeper—as if knowing Blade had heard them making love embarrassed her—before she sighed. “We can go to your cabin. Blade needs to have a nice place to sleep tonight. But you’re not the only one with needs. I plan on running my tongue all over you. Tasting you, so…”

  His dick filled. Made it hard for him to ease her off him—zip up his jeans. Addison laughed the whole time, teasing him about flinging the metal teeth across the cab, before settling in close to him. Her head on his shoulder.

  Rigs started the truck, rejoining the evening traffic. Just a few more hours, and he was turning onto the gravel road leading to his cabin. He hadn’t thought to leave any lights on. Hadn’t cared if he came home to complete darkness. Nothing to welcome him back. It had never been a home. Until now. Whether they stayed there or not, it was home as long as Addy was in it. And he’d do whatever it took to make her comfortable. Make a place she wanted to stay in. The two of them. Plus Blade.

  Rigs was already going through what he’d need to do to make the place safe for Blade—even if the canine would be sidelined for a bit longer. Though, his previous thoughts still rang true. He was certain the canine would enjoy a little bomb-sniffing. Nothing that would hurt him, but something they could do together. A bond they could form. And he’d teach Addison, too. Being blind didn’t matter because it was all about trust. Trusting Blade to do the work, and they already had that trust. So, this would be a cakewalk.

  Addison wrapped her arm around his, following him to the back of the truck. He opened the gate, then eased Blade’s kennel forward, stopping it parallel with the end of the flatbed. Addison unhooked the latch, laughing when the dog licked her palm, laying his snout out of the cage. He didn’t seem overly anxious to leave, so Rigs decided to take Addy inside, first, then come back for Blade. She could pick out a spot for his bed, though Rigs suspected the dog would eventually end up at the foot of theirs. Not that he minded. He’d share anything with Blade if it made Addy smile. Made her feel safe.

  She seemed to get that he was lost in thought, remaining quiet, but content as he led her along the path, up the three short steps then toward the door. His phone pinged as he stopped on the porch, searching his pocket for the keys, while juggling the cell in his other hand—trying to read the screen without asking Addison to let go. She couldn’t let go. He’d rather drop the damn phone, have it shatter, than have her fingers leave his arm. That’s what it was for. Her hand.

  He managed to get the key in the lock. Half open the door as he read the message.

  Rigs. Cannon. They found that doctor—José Pedro—dead in his office. Time of death was 0600. Several hours after the takedown. Something’s not right. I’m looking into it. I feel like I’ve missed something—something to do with that military connection. Watch your back. I’m on my way to Montana. We’re meeting at Hank’s place tomorrow—0800. Stay safe.

  He frowned, stepping across the threshold, Addison still holding his arm, when his senses kicked in. The ones he’d honed over years in the Teams. That had saved his life and alerted him to the IED with just enough time to move—not get killed outright.

  But his hands were full, his brain not quite firing on all cylinders—half his thoughts still focused on the color of Addison’s skin, and how she’d felt wrapped around him. Pulsing as she orgasmed in his arms.

  He moved, managed to shove her out of the way, not really certain what the threat was, but feeling there was one. Standing there. Inside his house. She gasped, rocked sideways just as a flash lit the room, the report of the gun echoing around them. He had enough sense to feint left, prevent a shot to his heart, before he was blown back, skidding across the porch then down the stairs.

  Chapter 20

  He’s dead.

  That’s the only thought that went through Addison’s mind as she hit the wall, then stumbled against a small table. She managed to catch herself before tumbling to the floor, scrambling upright when the floor creaked in front of her.

  She froze. Not out of fear, but to focus on the sounds around her. Follow the progression of whoever was in the house. Armed. Out for blood.

  She could
smell it. Kent’s blood. Hanging in the air around her like a death shroud. Coppery. Metallic. He’d sensed the other person just a moment before she had, and had somehow managed to shove her aside—save her life. Take the bullet that had most likely been meant for her.

  Or maybe this creep wanted to eliminate her protection, first. Make her suffer before finally killing her. And she was. Standing there, smelling Kent’s blood, not hearing so much as a raspy breath from him—it sucked out any light she’d managed to get back. Crushed her soul.

  A scuff.

  Not much, but she’d heard it. Slowly getting closer. Moving off to her right. There was no sense trying to hide. She didn’t know the layout of Kent’s place. She hadn’t even counted how far back his truck was, too caught up in the feel of his muscles beneath her fingers to care. Knowing he’d keep her safe. Make sure she didn’t bump into anything, so she hadn’t worried about counting.

  Which had been fucking stupid, because now, she needed that information. Needed all the information. Why hadn’t she asked him what his place was like? What kind of furniture he had? Where the bedroom and bathroom were? He’d have told her. Laid out a perfect picture of his interior for her. And he’d have been happy to do it.

  Instead, she’d been basking in the afterglow of their love making. In knowing that Kent was a breath away from telling her he loved her.

  That’s why he’d kissed her. To stop her from saying it for him. She’d sensed that about him. That he wanted to be the one to say the words. To have her believe them. And that hadn’t been the time or the place. She’d been raw. On the edge. And he’d wanted to wait until she’d be convinced of his sincerity.

  And now, he was lying somewhere bleeding to death. If he wasn’t already dead.

  Kent.

  Dead.

  His body limp. Unmoving. His scars in sharp relief because there’d be no color in his skin. No warmth beneath it. Nothing but cold, unforgiving death. Just like Will.