What Remains_Reckoning Page 8

  She tensed at the close contact, once again fighting against the need to break free and bolt from the cabin. It’d been a couple of years since she’d welcomed a man’s touch, with more than a few forced encounters haunting her mind in the spaces between. And after all she’d endured to avoid becoming another notch on Beau’s bedpost, lying against Hamilton seemed like a slippery slope she couldn’t afford to walk.

  The man’s breath coasted across her neck, sending a confusing rush of need to her core. Shivers chased each other down her spine, but in a good way. Making her feel alive. Human.

  “Easy. I can feel you tensing. I’m not going to touch you more than it takes to see how bad that motherfucker hurt you.”

  God, she damn near said, ‘which one,’ managing to snap her mouth shut before revealing more than she wanted. More than she should. This wasn’t a permanent arrangement. As soon as she felt better, she was gone. Confiding in them wouldn’t change what had happened. And the less they knew the less complicated things got.

  Hamilton’s face brushed across her neck, igniting another round of shivers. “We can sit here as long as it takes for you to relax. Hell, I’ve got nothing better to do.”

  She chuckled at his tone, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. The man looked even more handsome in the sunlight, with shaggy brown hair and a smile that could make a woman orgasm on sight. The other two were equally stunning. Wolfe’s blond hair sat in a spiky mess atop his head, the golden color highlighting the clear blue of his eyes. He looked slightly larger than Hamilton, his muscles straining every inch of the tee beneath his open jacket. Like Ham, he’d centered his gaze on her side, the edges of his luscious mouth turned down slightly.

  She wondered why they seemed so upset by her injury when Gunner stepped in front of her. She cranked her head back, barely able to see the top of his head as he loomed over her. Taller than the others, his body seemed leaner—more like an elite runner with tightly coiled muscles and a taut, wiry frame. He wore his hair longer than his friends, the sandy locks reaching down past his shoulders. Hazel eyes and perfectly sculpted lips completed the picture as he knelt in front of her, a first aid kit clasped in his fingers.

  Hamilton placed his hands on her hips, giving her a light squeeze. “Thankfully that truck had some supplies in a box in the flatbed. Gunner’s always been the more medically inclined among us. The guy’s stitched up Wolfe and me more times than I can count. He just needs to take a look at your side. There was a pretty decent welt there last night after the first hit. Can’t imagine how bad it got after the next.”

  Gunner grunted. “Bastard kicking you in the ribs didn’t help, either.”

  She bit her lip, torn between wanting the pain to stop and needing to distance herself. Christ, they were already too close. Boxing her in on every side, there wasn’t a path out of their circle that didn’t have her going through one of them.

  Hamilton nudged her back with his chest. “We’ll go nice and slow. Promise.”

  Part of her wanted to know whether he was talking about fixing her side or something far more intimate, but she managed to keep her mouth tightly shut, answering Ham with a small nod. He gave her a heart-stopping smile, keeping his hands still as Gunner placed the kit on the cushion beside her then snagged the hem of her shirt.

  Her hands shot out to grab his, preventing them from moving. “Wait.”

  The word came out as a breathy whisper as she panted against the fear that welled up inside her. She held his stare, tears burning her eyes, hands shaking. It was too close, too sensual. Just thinking about baring even an inch of skin in front of them made her head spin. Whether from fear or something far more dangerous, she wasn’t sure. She just had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to leave if she allowed them any form of physical contact.

  Gunner released one side, squeezing her hand before lifting his fingers and tracing the line of her jaw. “I know you’re scared. And it’s burning a hole in all of our guts to think what Beau might have done to you. But we can’t let that injury go untreated. Infection is just as deadly as those damn zombies trying to eat us. And out here, knowing what we might face trying to get back to safety—we can’t afford to have you weakened.” He lowered his hand again. “Only what needs to be done to clean that wound. You have my word.”

  “And if you break it?”

  She cringed at the defeated quality of her voice. Fuck. She was stronger than this. And she didn’t need them thinking she couldn’t handle herself.

  If Gunner read anything into her statement, he sure didn’t show it. Instead, he nodded at Wolfe. “If I so much as graze a part of you I shouldn’t, Wolfe can kick my ass.”

  A hint of a smile teased her lips as she glanced at the man in question. “Can you? Kick his ass?”

  Wolfe’s smile was nothing short of wicked. “Gunner’s quick, but once I catch him…and I will… Let’s just say he wouldn’t be sitting down for a while.”

  She smiled at the comment, watching Gunner as the man raised a brow before returning his focus to her.

  He leaned forward. “Well?”

  She wanted to tell them it wasn’t as easy as they made it out to be. That trust had to be earned. Proven. Even then it was fleeting at best. But she nodded, aware her words would come out sounding even more desperate than she felt.

  Gunner snagged her shirt again, waiting until she gave him another nod before gently lifting it. Cool air swirled over her skin, causing a rash of goose bumps to prickle along her flesh. Hamilton and Wolfe each helped raise one of her arms as Gunner drew the garment clear of her head, placing it on the couch beside the kit. Morgan resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. If she was going to show them they weren’t the only ones here with a set of balls, she needed to start now. Before she’d lost the last vestiges of her pride.

  A chorus of grunts sounded around her followed by the hissing of breath. She furrowed her brow, wondering what had pissed them off when she glanced at her ribs. Dark blue and purple patches colored several inches of her torso, the center of the blemish distinguished by an angry looking burn. Part of the skin had broken from the intensity of the charge, leaving an oozing wound between two ribs.

  Hamilton seemed to recover his voice first. “I’ll fucking kill the bastard.”

  Wolfe scoffed. “You’ll have to get in line, buddy, because I already have dibs on the creep.”

  He leaned forward, fingers lightly brushing her skin before he seemed to remember their promise not to touch her. He pulled his hand back, but not before Morgan noticed the longing in his eyes. As if denying himself the feel of her flesh had hurt him.

  Gunner grunted, opening the kit and removing a bunch of supplies. “Fuckers like him and Beau are worse than the damn infected. At least being dead gives them an excuse.” He shook his head. “Nothing you could ever say to justify this.” He moistened a cloth, raising his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, honey. This is going to sting like a bugger. Hold on to Wolfe and Ham. They’ll help keep you grounded. I’ll be as quick and gentle as I can be.”

  She frowned. “While I realize I haven’t acted like it… I’m not fragile.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve been a hundred percent badass the entire time. But that doesn’t change the fact this is going to hurt. Now stop being stubborn and hold their hands.”

  She huffed at his firm tone, grabbing hold of Ham’s hand while Wolfe clasped her other one. She didn’t know why Gunner was being so damn bossy when the cloth dabbed against her skin. Fire raced across her torso, stealing her breath. More dark spots rimmed her vision, and she closed her eyes as a familiar haze settled over her.

  Warm lips brushed along each side of her neck as both men leaned into her, their fingers squeezing tight around hers.

  “Breathe. We’re right here.” Hamilton’s low voice sounded next to her ear a moment before he pressed a light kiss to her jaw.

  Wolfe mimicked the action on the other side, his lips slightly firmer than Hamilton’s had been. She for
ced herself to breathe, listening to each man take turns whispering in her ear, their constant chatter soothing her. She concentrated on the steady cadence of their speech until the burning sensation finally subsided and she sucked in a quick breath.

  She pried her eyelids open, finding Gunner’s stare. Pain etched the creases in his forehead as he offered her an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry, honey, but the worst is over. I just need to bandage it. The cream will help guard against infection, but we’ll have to change the bandage every day for a few days, just to be safe.” His mouth tightened around the edges. “Damn thing’s going to scar for sure.”

  She laughed, the absurdity of the situation bleeding through. “I’m pretty damn sure that what would have come next would have scarred far more. So I’ll take this.”

  Her words made the anger flare in his eyes again, and he leaned in, his mouth nearly touching hers. “If anyone tries to hurt you again, they’ll have to go through us. And I can assure you, they’d never make it.” He eased back, visibly pulling himself together. “You’ve got a couple of broken ribs, too. You’ll have to take it easy for a couple of weeks. Ensure they don’t get any worse.”

  “I’ve broken ribs before. I’ll be careful.”

  He tsked. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

  She smiled. Not that she knew enough about them to guess at their personalities, but they sure as hell didn’t come across how she’d envisioned simply by looking at them. Their sheer strength suggested brute force, but all three of them touched her as if she might break. And the way they looked at each other—shit. She could tell they’d been a team for years, each one seemingly reading the other’s thoughts.

  She cocked her head, wondering if there might be more than idle friendship between them when a thought popped into her head. She glanced around the circle, catching each man’s gaze. “Hey. How did you know?”

  Wolfe laughed. “I’m afraid we’ll need a bit more than that, sweetheart. How did we know what?”

  She huffed. “That I’d had a nightmare.”

  His face sobered. “You talk in your sleep.”

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I talk? What the hell did I say?”

  Hamilton sighed. “We were hoping you’d tell us. It wasn’t really coherent. Though whatever it was, it scared the shit out of us. You tried to leave more than a few times last night, fighting us every time we helped you back to the couch.”

  “I tried to leave? But…” She pouted. She didn’t remember any of that. “I’m surprised you didn’t resort to tying me to a chair or something.” She arched her brows at their identical expressions of disbelief. “What? You boys are obviously used to getting your way. And you don’t seem like the type to just give up. I can only imagine you’d do whatever you thought necessary to complete your mission. All that ‘special training’ bullshit you got.”

  Gunner grinned. “You aren’t going to let us live that down, are you?” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. And yeah, if it had come to that, we would have found a way to keep you from getting yourself killed while you were out of it. But once Hamilton settled down on the couch with you draped across his legs, you quieted.”

  “With me what?”

  Wolfe gave her thigh a pat. “All he did was hold you. Man’s a bloody saint.”

  “Somehow I doubt that, but…” She cursed inwardly. Shit. This changed things. Now she owed them a double debt. Triple if she counted the escape. She released a weary breath. “I owe you my thanks.”

  Hamilton shrugged around her, the play of his body against hers making her stomach flutter with anticipation. Damn, she was in trouble.

  He pressed his chest firmer against her back. “You got us out of that bloody stall. I’d say we’re even.”

  “Even? Damn, you’re not a math person, are you? I still have a couple of other debts to repay.”

  “You don’t owe us anything. Ever.”

  His words hit home, and she wondered exactly who these men really were. They were obviously military trained, but they took duty and dedication to a whole new level. And what the hell had Gunner meant about getting her somewhere safe? She didn’t recall saying she’d go anywhere with them, other than this cabin. Though they all seemed to assume they were some sort of unit now. That she’d joined their ranks and become a partner of sorts.

  She let her head loll back against Hamilton’s shoulder, ignoring how right it felt to be encased in his arms, Wolfe still holding one of her hands, Gunner completing the circle from the front. This was temporary. A few days at most. Then she’d be back on the road, and this time, she knew better than to trust anyone. Even people she’d known in her previous life. Avoidance would be her best friend. All she had to do was stay strong.

  Chapter Seven

  Hamilton held back a snarl as Gunner taped the bandage to Morgan’s side, securing the raw flesh behind a layer of white gauze. He could tell by the way the man’s hands trembled ever so slightly, Gunner was fuming beneath the stoic smile. The man rarely lost control, and seeing the effect Morgan had on him sent a rush of heat through Hamilton. Gunner hadn’t allowed anything to break through his facade since Ham had gotten shot on their last mission in Afghanistan. He’d lost way too much blood by the time his buddies had carried his ass to safety, and he acutely remembered the pain on both their faces as he’d drifted into unconsciousness. Ham had woken a few days later, Gunner’s smiling face hovering over him. The man had punched him in the shoulder then told him not to fucking scare him like that again. Now his friend sat in front of Morgan, doing his best to pretend her wounds didn’t make his blood boil and his vision tinge red.

  Hamilton glanced at Wolfe, not surprised to see the same, barely controlled rage on his face. He’d never been as good as Gunner at hiding his feelings, and Ham knew Morgan’s condition made Wolfe want to hunt the bastards down. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Hell, so did Ham.

  He sighed, clenching his teeth when Morgan leaned against him, her tense muscles easing as Gunner finished the procedure, slowly inching back.

  The man gave her a tight smile. “That’s the best I can do. Fuck, I wish we were closer to the base. Abby would have you fixed up in no time.”

  The tension returned, far greater than before as she stiffened in his arms, glancing at each man in turn. “Base? Abby?”

  Wolfe thumbed her cheek, his touch barely brushing her skin. “Guess there’s a few things we should tell you about ourselves before we start traipsing across Colorado.”

  Her eyes widened and Ham cursed under his breath. Shit. They were scaring her. Just looking at her doe-eyed expression revealed the obvious. She hadn’t considered anything beyond this one day. Hadn’t planned on being more than a face that disappeared into a misty memory. Well, fuck that. No way were they leaving her behind. She belonged with them. End of story.

  The thought caught him off-guard, making him groan. That kind of Neanderthal thinking wasn’t going to impress Morgan. She needed men who understood her independence. Who weren’t put off by her skills or her ability to survive. She hadn’t managed this long without knowing how to take care of herself. And if they wanted to gain her trust, they’d need to allow her to take risks without having it blow up into an argument.

  Morgan waited until Gunner rose and walked over to the table, placing the medical supplies on the surface before pushing to her feet and taking a few shaky steps away. She managed to stumble to the far wall beside the door, turning to rest her back against the wood. Panic-filled eyes stared at him, her chest heaving with her increased breath.

  Wolfe nudged him, motioning to Morgan. Ham pursed his lips. Why did the man seem to think he knew how to handle the girl? What to say to get her to believe in them? Hell, he was running blind, just like them.

  Ham raked his fingers through his hair, slowly rising. He kept his movements easy as he grabbed her shirt and moved closer to her. Those overly large eyes glanced at the fabric then back to him, her unspoken question coming throug
h loud and clear.

  He gave her what he hoped was a sweet smile as he held out the garment. “Let’s get you more comfortable then we’ll talk. I know you must have a thousand questions you’d like to ask us. And you can… Ask us anything you want.”

  Her gaze dropped to the shirt again before she held out her hand, obviously waiting to see if he’d return it to her.

  He inched closer. “You’re going to pull on that wound if you try to put this thing on by yourself. Can Wolfe and I help?” At her continued silence he cocked his head. “We’ll just ease this along your arms and over your head. So you don’t have to lift them. Promise.”

  Her chin quivered before she visibly clenched her jaw then nodded. Hamilton motioned to Wolfe across his shoulder, going to one side while the other man stepped up to the other. Together, they drew the cotton along her arms. Ham held back a moan as her skin brushed his knuckles, sending a jolt of pure desire straight to his dick. Damn, one touch, one stray thought, and his body responded. He’d been picturing damn zombies for the past twenty minutes while Gunner had tended her wound, using the horrifying images to keep his cock in check. But being so close to her weakened his resolve until all his thoughts became shaded in the tones of her skin and how it’d look next to theirs.

  Theirs.

  Christ, ever since his buddies had confessed their mutual attraction, he hadn’t been able to keep the visions of all four of them entwined together from playing in his head. How damn sexy she’d look trapped between them, three sets of hands and lips bringing her to orgasm over and over. He could already imagine the sweet essence of her desire and how it’d mix with their spicy scents. And after spending a decade living with Wolfe and Gunner, watching their backs and anticipating their every move, he knew the three of them would fall into step with nothing more than a look and a nod.