What the hell have I gotten myself into? The sight of her—with all that cleavage—she sure wasn’t the girl I remembered at my sister’s wedding. I laughed at my description. She was no longer a girl, wasn’t back then either, but she’d definitely matured in the past year and had become more of a woman, one I could easily get wrapped up in.
At the hanger, I’d allowed myself to feel something for Erica because of what she’s going through, and it wasn’t until we were shot at on the docks that reality kicked in: if I was going to be successful at protecting her on this mission, I needed to push all emotions aside. If I came off as an ass, so what? It wasn’t like she’d be interested in someone like me anyway, not with all the fucking mess going on in my head. No one could handle my issues, myself included. PTSD was my Achilles’ heel, and I was still trying to get a handle on it. My psychiatrist, Kent, or Dr. Bradford if we’re being formal, was helping me gain some control over the nightmares that haunted me almost regularly.
So far I’d only managed to compartmentalize them, store them in one portion of my mind, just shutting the door and sealing it up, only allowing one or two memories to come out at a time. Sadly, they were the worst of my memories. How does one deal with being in a unit where only a few men got out alive, and you’re one of them? I shook my head to push the thoughts back, not wanting to dwell on any of it.
I looked at the items placed on my bed along with detailed instructions of what I needed to do and how to proceed. I’d noticed the objects earlier but wanted to get Erica settled. Just the mention of her name and I was contemplating how nice it felt to grab her around the waist to prevent her from falling into the water—her warm body pressed against mine, forcing feelings to stir inside me. Then I got glimpse of her toned thighs and her tattoo—which was placed in an area that had my mouth salivating, wanting to lick and drive her mad—when she shimmied her dress back into place after it rode up on the ATV. What I wouldn’t give to see that body tied up with rope in the Shibari art form. Don’t go there. Her sister may be into the BDSM lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean she is. Focus, man. The idea of Erica strung up for my viewing pleasure, at the mercy of my control…damn, it made me hard. With anyone else, I couldn’t even get a semi-erection. Why Erica? Why now?
Hell, I needed to report in to Rick, and then take an ice cold shower.
I inspected the contents on the bed. There was a bag of burner phones, a satellite phone, some detailed instructions—top of the list being to report in—expectations of the mission, and coordinates to another safe location should this one get breeched. Next to that was a three-ring binder with information on the security features the island offered and their location, backup features, and how to care for things while we were there.
I pulled a burner phone out and turned it on to see, if by some miracle, we had a signal. It wouldn’t have surprised me if the tech wizard had installed a repeater to allow a signal while on the island, but there was nothing. Hmm, he must like to go off the grid entirely while on vacation. I couldn’t blame him; that’s why I wanted to get the hell away from everyone.
Turning on the satellite phone, I quickly dialed Rick.
“Are you at your location? I understand there was some trouble on takeoff.” Rick’s voice carried a level of concern.
“We’re at our destination. I adjusted the flight plan and flew in circles for a while, and then followed the path in a zigzag pattern, just under the radar as a safety. Everything went smoothly until we were on the seaplane. I don’t know how they found us, but a car pulled up and started shooting at Peter and Russ. Are they friends of yours?” I questioned.
“Affirmative. They’re SEALs, but Derrick and I worked with them as part of the USSOCOM, the United States Special Operations Command. I’m sure, as an operative in the Marines, you had to crossover and work with other groups.” Rick explained.
“I’ve worked with the command, just never crossed paths with Peter and Russ.”
Rick went on to elaborate. “Russ is part of Peter’s SEAL team. They’re on their way out of the navy, with two missions left on their plate and are currently between assignments. Thanks to Titan being so newsworthy, we’ve had to ask some teams similar to Peter’s if they’d help us out, of course pending their handler’s approval. Titan is ready to hire them as soon as they’re available. In fact, Peter and Russ just docked down in the Miami area, having finished up a mission and heading our way for assistance on a new stalker case. They offered to help provide backup to ensure you both got out safely.”
I had to admit: “They were very professional and friendly and definitely helped us get out of there, taking on the fight so we could escape. Did they get the guys?”
“The offenders were hired guns by Victor Yoknovich. They have no affiliation with his group or any other group. Someone thought they’d identified Erica in the area, so they went after you. Peter and Russ plugged them with some lead and they surrendered. They were arrested and were informed that Erica and her travel companion were still in the Miami area. Because of this, Cat and Jasper are set to provide sightings around town to lead anyone in the area on a wild-goose chase. Thankfully, their current assignment is to offer bodyguard services to some visiting government dignitaries in the area.”
“Copy that.”
Rick’s voice dropped to a level of seriousness. “Are you doing okay? I know your issues flare up at times. We’ve all had them, so we know what you’re going through.”
I laughed. “I know I have to follow a fucking mission. I’ll rein in my temperament, but I’m not sure how well I can control the nightmares; I’ll give it my all, though.”
“Good to hear, Jonas. You do know that Erica has a degree in psychological counseling.” I don’t fucking believe this. Why wouldn’t people leave me alone to handle things on my own and just butt the hell out?
I raised my voice, “Rick, sir, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t need no tenderfoot trying to analyze me when they need to think about their own shit and holding it together.” I tried not to yell, but I wanted to drive the point home.
“You do know you’re not the only one who’s said that. Hell, my brother and I gave Dr. Bradford a run for his money, telling him to stick it where the sun didn’t shine and to stop analyzing the way we did things.” Rick admitted sheepishly.
“No shit?”
“The god-honest truth, man.” Rick cleared his throat. “Not to change the subject on you, but we need to get back to the point. I need you to read the manual regarding the island, familiarize yourself with the defenses set in place—feel free to add some of your own—and get acquainted with the terrain in the event you need to high-tail it out of there with an escape.
“Erica’s parents, Ivan and Sophia, are working feverishly to figure out who Victor Yoknovich has ties to, if anyone. We want to know if his old brotherhood is coming back into play, if he’s working alone, or what. So far, we’ve ruled out a couple of the former members and discovered they’re either working with a new family or holding down legitimate jobs. At the same time, my father is trying to use his connections with the government to see who the leak is in the FBI. None of those girls should’ve been hurt.”
I knew Erica would want to know this. Why I cared? I don’t know. “How are Erica’s friends? I know the one hit by the car died on the way to the hospital.”
“Casey, the one that was pushed down the stairs, is starting to improve. Her status was switched from critical to stable but guarded condition, so she’s still not out of the woods yet. As for Hannah, the one that had gone out for coffee and ended up beaten, she’s still critical, but the last brain scans showed a slight improvement, giving her family some hope. Unfortunately…” Rick’s words trailed off.
“What? Why did you hesitate?” I demanded.
You could hear the level of frustration in Rick’s voice. “We definitely have a leak. Our guys caught two of the government agents trying to suffocate the girls when they were finally alone in the room. We prevented anything from happening, but now we’re unsure of who to trust.”
Rick quickly reminded me, “Keep your eyes on Erica at all times. Don’t let her out of your sight. Her parents are depending on you to keep her safe, and you do the same. I’m out.”
Before I could respond, he hung up, but I wasn’t surprised. I could hear the background noise behind him going from quiet to a frenzy of activity. Something was going down, and, for once, I was glad I wasn’t a part of it. Just thinking about having to wear a suit again made my skin get itchy.
I glanced down at my watch and realized fifteen minutes was almost up, and I hadn’t heard a peep from Erica. I moved silently over to my door and opened it. Across the hall, I was surprised to see the door was wide open, revealing Erica sprawled out on the bed and still wearing her dress; however, the top part had slid down to her waist, allowing me to take in what a lovely sight she was in her white lace sheer push-up bra. Keep your mind on the job at hand, soldier. Stop thinking with your other head.
I walked over, intending to wake her, but she looked too angelic, not the spitfire I’d become accustomed to over the past few hours. I felt the coolness of the air conditioner blowing her direction and noted the gooseflesh forming on her skin. Looking around the room, I spotted a lightweight blanket draped across the back of a chair and grabbed it. Hoping not to wake her, I gently covered her up, and she seemed to relax into the bed, more peaceful than I’d ever seen her.
Closing her door partway, I entered my own room and decided on a quick shower, a super cold one at that. I examined the contents of my suitcase to see what Jasper had allowed me to pack, and then checked out the contents of the closet. Thank goodness. I had my fatigues; the only things that made me relax and kept me focused. I was surprised to see another box of hair dye, several bunches of Shibari rope, my books on the art of Japanese rope tying, my favorite glock 19 handgun, and my preferred sniper rifle, a M21. Earlier, I’d noticed the stash of defensive equipment already here in the house, but everyone has their personal favorites.
I’d been fearful that my identity would be taken away on this mission, since I’d have to dress and act differently than I normally did, but, despite me keeping my distance, I guess they knew me well enough to make sure I had my comfort zones.
Note to self: when Erica wakes up, I need to ask her if she’s ever used a gun, and if not, train her. It was always good to have backup, even if it was with the person you were protecting. Life was too short, and I sure as hell didn’t want to tempt fate. You should take your own advice about not wasting life. She could be the one you’ve been looking for. And hold off on asking about the gun for now, she needs to rest and get used to the island first.
I couldn’t entertain the idea of Erica and me. For starters, she thought I was an ass, not understanding that I was purposefully pushing her away. My mind wasn’t in a good place, and I couldn’t figure out why Rick and Derrick felt she might be able to help me. I gave up thinking about things and decided to shower.
A shower and a change into some camouflaged cargo pants and a standard issue military tee and I was feeling like me again. I was away from society, away from unremitting barked orders, and thankful I didn’t have to wear a damn monkey suit all day while working for Mr. Prescott.
I popped my head into Erica’s room and found she was still asleep, so I appropriated this time to go downstairs and acquaint myself with the island’s security system. To say it was impressive was the understatement of the century.
The area surrounding the house was overpopulated with motion sensors set to trigger alarms and spring traps when armed. The windows were as Erica and I suspected: fake. The setup was designed to project real-time images onto screens so that someone could see the outside area but have the safety of being inside. With a small flip and angling of the camera, you could look left, right, and up and down in order to see everything.
“No! Help!” Erica’s shrieking voice pierced the silence of the house. I took to the stairs two at a time until I was at her door. She lay on the bed tangled up in the blanket I’d placed on her earlier, thrashing about to try and escape it. Her eyes were still closed, making me wonder what she was dreaming about.
“Help! Please. Someone call an ambulance.” She must be reliving recent events. Had she seen one of her friends get hurt? I knew there was a huge difference in how people processed things when we came across it after the fact versus watching it happen right in front of us.
Reaching out, I gently touched Erica’s shoulder and lightly rocked her. “Princess, you need to wake up.”
She didn’t budge, so I tried again. This time, she bolted upright in bed, yelling out, “No,” before collapsing into tears.
Easing my arms around her and pulling her in to my chest, I whispered, “You’re safe, Erica. No one will find you here, and if they do, they’ll have to go through me.”
Nothing much got to me in life, except for the tears. I hated to see anyone cry. It brought back too many painful memories of my mother leaving, with my sister balling her eyes out in my arms, wondering what we could’ve done to keep her with us, to have her love us enough to want to stay. I held on to Erica as tears streamed down her face and soaked my shirt, but I didn’t care. I could easily hang it to dry and wear another one instead. I knew she needed comforting, and if it meant I had to drop my defenses a little to do it, then so be it.
It took a while, but she slowly calmed. “Hey, things aren’t as bad as they first seem.” She nodded and looked up at me with fear etched across her beautiful face. Even in tears, her face was that of an angel, a trusting one.
I held one of my hands up, “I’m going to slowly untangle you from the blanket. You might want to try and cover yourself the best you can with your hands.”
Looking down at her attire and the mess she made of her blanket, she quickly shielded her bra from my view. It was sweet watching a blush spread up her chest and onto her face. I had to take a deep breath in just to gain some kind of control over the way I was feeling right now. Seeing her half naked, wearing a nearly see-through white lace bra, and knowing she had on a matching white lace thong to boot…I was in deep trouble. All the blood in my head started getting on the southbound express with the destination being my crotch.
I took a deep breath in and tried to settle my mind, and then slowly began extracting her from the blanket. My hands had to grace over her skin on several occasions. I noticed, more than once, her breathing changed. I also noted that when I came close to personal areas, she held her breath, and those goose bumps…damn. She was reacting to me, and, sadly, I was in no better shape. Thankfully, Erica was too embarrassed to notice the little predicament going on in my pants. You’re kidding right. You’re huge, not a ‘little’ joking matter either. You’re pressing so hard against your zipper that you’re going to give your manhood a permanent indentation if you don’t settle soon.
With the blanket pulled away, she quickly hopped off the bed and ran toward the bathroom, closing the door but leaving it cracked so she could talk through it. “Thank you for your assistance. Can you please leave so I can grab a quick shower and change?”
I shook my head. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the opposite sex. “Sure thing. Are you going to be all right now?”
Erica’s head was resting against the edge of the door. “I think it was just a nightmare.” She might have tried to portray a sense of confidence with her words, but her tone gave away her insecurities.
Not wanting to push the issue or cause us to end up in a verbal altercation again, I let it go, for now. “When you get done come find me downstairs. I’ll see what they have to eat and try whipping us up something.” I reached down to pat my stomach. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had anything since yesterday at lunch,” which was almost twenty-four hours ago.
Her voice was tentative, which was common for what she’d been through. “Sure. Whatever. Now if you could please leave?”
I nodded and headed out of the room, only stopping in the doorway to offer, “If you need to talk…” I didn’t finish the statement, knowing she’d understand what I meant. Didn’t Rick or Derrick say something about her studying psychology? Hell if I knew. Either way, I knew that most individuals who’d seen a crime occur or lost someone close to them while in protective custody felt the need to talk. The offer was on the table; what she did with it was up to her.