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Protecting Mari (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Counterstrike Book 1) by Cara Carnes, Operation Alpha (5)

Chapter 5

“There’s plenty of room here,” Milo offered.

Ethan gnashed his teeth and tried not to glare at his brother. While the meal at Hank’s had gone well and he’d enjoyed hanging out with his teammates and getting to know The Arsenal crew, he didn’t want Zoey, Gage, Jud, and Jacob crashing at the house.

Not with Mari there. Ethan glanced down at the cat, who’d crawled from behind the sofa and was now winding her way around his feet.

“We’re good,” Zoey said. “Oh my God! What an adorable kitty. What’s her name?”

“June Bug,” Mari offered. “She’s a rescue kitty.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. I have a cutie myself named Dobie.”

“Cute is a very loose term,” Gage muttered. Zoey growled and scratched June Bug’s head.

“We’ve secured a rental nearby. If there’s trouble, the system is queued to warn us. It’s a safety precaution until you’re fully trained on how to use it.”

From what Twitch and Milo indicated, the system was beyond slick. “We appreciate all the help.”

“No thanks necessary,” Gage replied. “Let’s get out of their hair, Little Bit. He needs to get Mari secured in the house.

Ethan glanced around the quiet neighborhood. While they’d never had troubles, they hadn’t gone toe-to-toe with an APD officer before. Backlash was possible. He placed a protective hand on Mari’s back as Zoey shoved a laptop at Gage and approached them.

“Here’s my cell number. Whenever you need something, you let me know,” the woman whispered. Her gaze settled on Ethan. “Tex is good, but I’m more capable of helping with certain situations. Gage and the others aren’t fully versed in what I do outside The Arsenal. I can help with what you do here. If you ever need someone hidden where they’ll never be found, call. I can and will permanently ghost anyone in twenty-four hours, less if necessary. What you’re doing here is good. You ever need money, let me know. Quillery is good at finding deep pockets of sick assholes.”

“Tex has us covered,” Ethan said, not bothering to mention Davenport pockets were plenty deep thanks to the old man. It was likely the woman already knew because he couldn’t imagine any operation Tex considered the best around not looking into him and everyone at Counterstrike. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Zoey, Gage, and Jacob headed toward a black SUV parked at the curb. Jud hung back. His gaze swept toward the tree line along the edge of Ethan’s property.

Ethan’s insides tightened as a shadow shifted. He firmed his contact on Mari as he regarded the man who’d kicked Twitch’s ass. The man’s gaze slid to Mari, then to the house.

Right. Whatever, no whoever, awaited him in the shadows had nothing to do with her. Ethan knew the shadow’s identity. Nolan Mason.

“You good?” Milo asked.

“Take Mari inside. I’ll be in shortly,” Ethan said.

Big brother by two minutes slid his attention to the shadowed figure. “Right. Five minutes, then I’m coming out.”

“Ethan? Is everything okay?” Mari asked, her voice pitched higher than normal.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I need to talk to someone. It’s not about Chester, or your situation. Everything’s fine.”

“Oh, okay.” Mari looked at Jud. “I-It was a pleasure to meet you.”

The man smiled but offered no comment otherwise as he shuffled toward the truck. Ethan waited until Milo had Mari inside the house before he closed the distance between himself and Nolan Mason.

His gut clenched as a burn began where his gut wound had been. Some nights the phantom pain and memories were harder to fight off than others. Hell, some days were even harder. Night terrors had stopped a few years ago, but he still had residual nightmares, flashes of hell that seared into his memories.

But at least he was alive.

Thanks to Nolan.

The man shifted from the shadows as Ethan halted just within the fringes of the living room window’s periphery vision. He didn’t want Mari or Milo worrying unnecessarily. He sure as hell didn’t want big brother coming outside.

“We didn’t get a chance to formally meet last time,” the man said as he held out a hand. “Nolan, though most knew me by No.”

Ethan clasped the man’s hand and dragged him into a back-slapping, half hug. Some of the tightness within him eased. “I should’ve hunted you and your team down long ago.”

“Most of us are out at The Arsenal now, though a couple decided to enjoy a well-deserved civilian life.” Nolan glanced at the house. “Hell of a setup you have here. Quillery and Edge were both impressed with Counterstrike. Your teams.”

Edge. Ethan looked around. While meeting Nolan tonight rather than tomorrow while everyone was about was good, the woman who’d rescued them all was another story. He’d heard enough through the years about the Quillery Edge. They were a force no one messed with.

“She’s at the rental house. We got in a little bit ago,” Nolan offered. He held out a roll of papers. “Tentative plans for the morning. Twitch forwarded what we needed in the way of which locations were in use and which were empty. Look over what we’ve devised when you can, let us know if it’ll work.”

Ethan took the roll of plans and nodded. “Appreciate the help, the system. Tex mentioned it was the best around.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta admit it still freaks the hell out of me sometimes.” Nolan laughed. “They left most of the system intact on what we’re installing, but the weaponry is very tamed down, and the automatic facial recognition scanning isn’t active. There’s more, but it’s above my head. The women will run through it all tomorrow.”

“Patch is our computer guru. He, Twitch and Milo can sit in on the information session,” Ethan said. “I…”

“You’ve got a woman to secure,” Nolan said. “I didn’t want tomorrow to be about us meeting for the first time since…”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t thank God, Fate, or whoever it was that put you in my path. You saved my life. No words can express my gratitude.”

“You would’ve done the same.”

“You lost a man getting me out. That’s bound to cut deep.”

“And you lost your entire team. I’m thinking that cuts deeper.” The man glanced at the house. “You’ve got a hell of a crew. A family. I know a thing or two about that.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’ve heard about you and your brothers. Big family, even bigger crew.”

“We’ve all got our own dark. We keep it to ourselves, chew on it, let it chew on us,” Nolan commented. “There comes a time where you have to drag that shit out into the light and give it over to someone else. Otherwise you’ll lose yourself in the dark.”

Ethan’s jaw twitched as he looked away. He admired the hell out of Nolan Mason and his team for saving him, but he wasn’t about to stand outside his home and get a lecture. Fortunately, the man must’ve sensed as much.

“We’ve got a program out at The Arsenal to help warriors work their way back to normal. It’s not an easy road, but you’ll get there. You need help, you know where we’re at.” Nolan motioned toward the house. “Best medicine is in that house. A strong family, an even stronger woman at your side. No better cure.”

“She’s a client,” Ethan said. “Nothing more.”

“Attraction is a finicky bitch. It strikes when it wants to. Best survival technique is to not resist. Gage and Jud both said she’s a hell of a woman.”

“Getting emotionally attached to our charges is a bad idea.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen,” Nolan said with a grin. “We’ll catch up tomorrow, after the work is done. There’s been talk of grabbing Salt Lick barbecue and relaxing the evening away.”

Ethan couldn’t imagine much better than kicking back with a few cold beers, some great barbecue and getting to know the man who’d saved his life. Everyone at Counterstrike needed a few hours to relax. The lack of a good security system had put them all on edge for too long.

“I should’ve replaced those shitty systems long ago,” he admitted.

“I heard they were installed by a friend of your mom’s. Setting aside familial connections is tough. I’ve been there,” Nolan said.

Mom. The thought poked Ethan’s chest hard. He, Milo, and Jen had worked out a visitation schedule, but it often got waylaid by day-to-day life. Truth told, it still hurt like hell to see the woman who’d raised him…

He shoved the thought aside. It hurt too bad, burned too deep to let simmer tonight. Meeting Nolan Mason was enough of a fire to stoke tonight. “Come in, have a beer. Meet my brother.”

“Tomorrow,” the man replied with a smile. “I’d best get back or my brothers will be out looking for me.”

Ethan knew a thing or two about protective siblings. He glanced over at the porch and chuckled when he saw Jen hovering there. Very little flew beneath her radar.

He and Nolan exchanged a couple more backslaps. Ethan headed toward the house as soon as Nolan’s truck pulled away. Jen cut him off at the steps.

“Who was he?”

“Nolan Mason.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. While he’d mentioned the name a few times to Milo, he hadn’t ever shared it with Jen. Neither of them shared much about their military pasts with her.

“He and his team rescued me,” he said.

“And he’s with The Arsenal? Small world.”

“The paramilitary arena he’s in is very small. Elite. He and his brothers run The Arsenal.”

“He should’ve come inside.”

“You’ll meet him and everyone else tomorrow, sis. Assuming we aren’t busy with something else.”

“I have a meeting with the Chief of Police tomorrow. And the District Attorney.”

Ethan smiled and ruffled her hair. “You couldn’t let the dust settle a couple days before you stirred everyone up?”

“She’s not waiting any longer than necessary. Her nightmare’s lasted too long as it is,” Jen said, her cheeks red within the pale porch light.

Ethan glanced at the door. As much as he wanted to chat with Jen, he wanted to be inside checking on Mari. Talking to her. The attraction was almost unbearable. He’d spoken the truth to Nolan earlier.

He and Milo had discussed Counterstrike’s unofficial rule number one back when they’d formed the organization. The clients they protected relied on them. A unique relationship of trust and necessity was formed, a bond that would not be broken easily.

One which made taking advantage of a woman too simple.

Ethan wasn’t a conceited ass, but he knew he was attractive. He’d run through more than his fair share of beautiful women back in the service. Now? Well, now he didn’t give much of a damn if anyone shared his bed. He’d seen the byproduct of what happened when a relationship went bad.

He’d always assumed he’d be single forever. Settling down seemed foolish. Divorce was too prevalent. Marriage was a joke. They’d learned that the hard way growing up.

But a part of him still clung to the hope of finding a good woman and having a couple kids. Jesus. Where the hell had that come from?

It’d crept into his thoughts a lot lately. Maybe that was why the attraction to Mari was harder to resist than usual. No, there was something about her that roused the baser part of his nature. But he wouldn’t act on it.

Mari deserved the time she needed to get back to normal. She deserved the fresh start he could ensure, which meant any attraction he had to her would have to wait. If it still lingered after they dealt with her asshole ex, then Ethan would see if she was interested.

* * *

Chester says hello, cunt.

Mari knifed out of bed as a scream rose from her throat. Sweat dampened her face and body as she kicked the sheets wrapped around her. She flailed her arms as she thudded to a halt on the ground beside the bed.

Sheets.

The bed.

She wasn’t kicking a man off her. It was a sheet. Arms weren’t holding her down as he bit her breasts. Breaths sawed in and out of her lungs as her heart thundered wildly within her chest. She blinked, forced her attention to the surroundings slowly seeping into her awareness.

A shaft of pale light streamed into the room from a crack in the doorway. A shadow shifted as the door opened. Her pulse quickened.

Ethan prowled into the room, his bare feet striking the floor with no sound. She tracked his progression from her position on the floor with avid curiosity, much like a frozen gazelle in a lion’s eyesight.

But he was no lion. No. He was…

Stunning.

The pale light from outside spilled across him as he moved deeper into the room and closer to her. Her mind still drifted between her nightmare and reality. She forced a deep breath despite the pain along her side.

“Mari, you’re safe.” His deep voice boomed within the otherwise silent night around her. She shifted within the sheet trapping her into place. He shuffled to a stop a couple feet away from her and looked down.

His full, thick lips upturned into a slight smirk bordering on a smile. Warmth seeped into her and burned up her cheeks as she peered up at him. He was magnificent.

A scattering of hairs arrowed downward, bypassing a mottled mess of skin. A wound. She studied the injury for a breath or two. Then her gaze continued its meander down his bare chest. Rippling muscle and washboard abs. Her mouth dried as her perusal shifted to the drawstring dangling from his shorts—shorts which hugged his thick thighs very nicely. Shorts that accentuated…

Wowza.

“It looks like you’re tangled up,” he commented.

Right. Mari ignored the gorgeous man and the distinctive bulge her attention had honed in on moments ago. She wrestled with the sheet, but it’d snared her fully. Great.

Ethan chuckled as he crouched down. Humor danced within his eyes as he reached out and gently extricated her from the sheet. “I guess we should’ve left you with a KA-BAR to cut your way out.”

“It would’ve been appreciated,” she muttered.

Heat trailed where his fingers grazed. Tiny goosebumps marched along her arm as he slowly pried the unwanted obstruction from her. His gaze narrowed as his jaw twitched. She looked down and swallowed.

Bite marks.

Though most of them were hidden by her thin chemise top, a couple marred the swell of her breasts. At least most of the bruising was hidden. She’d noted their presence forming earlier before she’d gone to bed. A handprint. Which she’d dutifully, and quite numbly, snapped a pic of and sent it to the number she’d been given.

Revulsion rolled through her, but she fought it back.

The bastard had tried to break her.

Chester had sent him.

She’d fought him off and now she was safe.

At Ethan’s.

Ethan wouldn’t let it happen again. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. Perhaps it was because her brother trusted Tex, and Tex trusted Ethan. Perhaps it was because Ethan and Milo and so many of their team were a lot like Joseph.

Soldiers.

No.

Spec ops soldiers.

There was a distinction, one she’d picked up on over the years. She didn’t pretend to understand the military world, but she knew there were levels of badass. From what she’d gathered? Well, Ethan was on the top of the heap.

So was just about everyone he employed.

“I heard you scream. Are you okay?”

Mari liked the fact he didn’t try and skirt around the fact she’d freaked out and woken him up, which was why she didn’t bother denying the truth. “No, but I will be. Somehow, I will be.”

“Good girl,” he praised. He smiled, rose, and then held out his hand. “Come on, I know a couple tricks to the nightmare trade. I’ll teach them to you.”

He had nightmares?

She swallowed. Her gaze tracked to the large scar on his torso, dangerously near his heart. “What happened?”

“I dodged left and should have gone right,” he replied. “Someone shot me while I was on a mission. I was captured, and then I was rescued. I don’t remember much of the rescue, but I remember way too much about the in between.”

The capture.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That must’ve been terrible.

“I survived. The rest of my team didn’t,” Ethan said. “It took me a lot of time to accept I had lived even though they died. It took me even longer to learn how to cope with that so I could continue living in their honor.”

Wow. Mari’s eyes burned with emotion as she considered what he’d said. “I can’t imagine what you endured.”

“It’s no worse than what you survived,” he said.

“I doubt that,” she whispered into the thickening silence.

“We survived. It doesn’t matter which rung of hell we escaped. We escaped. Don’t ever belittle what you went through, Mari. It’s a part of you now. What you choose to shape it into will determine the type of person you are from this point forward.” His jaw twitched as he ran a finger along the damaged side of her face. “I’ve seen firsthand what happens when a person only half survives what was done to them. In many ways, that’s worse than death.”

Her heart ached. “You knew someone who was abused. That’s why you started Counterstrike.”

“Counterstrike formed because of many things, but yes. That was one of them.”

Who? The question seemed too invasive. He’d opened himself up enough already, offered her a big chunk of what’d shaped him after he escaped hell. She’d take what he willingly gave and make the best of it, because he was right.

Chester hadn’t ruined her. He’d tried, but she’d escaped his hell. Although he’d tried to punish her for leaving, she’d left. What she did from this point forward did shape her.

“Come on.” He took her hand and headed out of the bedroom.

They went down the stairs and into the kitchen. He motioned toward a stool. She sat and watched as he pulled out ingredients from the pantry and a pot.

“My dad was an abusive dick. Mom took the brunt of it, but sometimes Milo or I would take our turns, mainly when we stepped between him and Mom.” He pulled out a spoon and got to work putting cocoa and sugar into a pan. “He’d always storm out of the house after he’d meted out his hell. After we’d bandage what was hurt and clean up the mess, she’d always fix us cocoa. It’s the first medicine in my arsenal.”

Cocoa.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she imagined a little Ethan bruised. Battered. God.

“Is she…” She let the question trail off. Way, way too invasive.

He froze his movements. Intensity reflected in his gaze when he looked at her. “She’s alive. She’s in a facility in Boerne, a private one Milo and I had formed with our trust accounts while we were in the service.”

A facility. Mari’s stomach churned. She forced the words poised on her tongue back, and waited through the silence as he continued making cocoa.

“She has Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, or CTE. It’s happens with athletes, veterans, or anyone who sustains repetitive brain trauma. It didn’t start appearing until a few years after she’d finally gotten away from him, just when her life was finally turning around.” He turned, put the pot on the stove and turned it on. “That was several years ago. By the time Milo and I graduated high school, it’d progressed to early onset dementia. She made us promise we’d live the lives we wanted and not focus on her.”

“Oh, God.” Mari swallowed, unsure what else to say.

“Don’t let him win. You three living life to its fullest despite him is a win for us all. Make him pay. That was her request to all three of us,” Ethan said as he cleared his throat. “Milo is the public speaker of the family. He’s spoken at many functions over the years, shared Mom’s story. Ours. Sharing the story is testimony for her.”

“Please tell me the bastard is dead,” she said. She fisted her hands on the bar in front of her and held her breath as she waited for his answer.

“Blood thirsty,” he said with a grin. “I like it.”

“Is he?”

“No, but Milo and I ruined him. It took some doing, and too long for Mom to fully understand she’d finally well and truly won the war she’d fought for years. We didn’t enter the final stage of our plans until we were out of the service. By then, the trust funds set up by our mother were turned over to us.” He took Mari’s hand. “She was wealthy, very much so. He was from an affluent family. The marriage was a societal one arranged by her parents, back when the rich did that sort of thing.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Counterstrike is for her. We fight abusers, but we also fight social injustice. Anyone fighting a bigger dog in the yard deserves someone at their back. That’s what we do.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered. “What you and Milo and Jen are doing is amazing.”

“No.” He shook his head and squeezed her hand. “What Mom did to get us away was amazing. All we’re doing is following the lighted path she carved out. Counterstrike was her idea—one she shared long ago, over cups of hot cocoa. Back then, justice and freedom were illusive dreams, but we never stopped dreaming. Because she wouldn’t let us.”

“She’s an amazing woman,” Mari declared. One who’d escaped and gotten her three babies out. Safe.

Thank God I never had kids.

Mari suppressed the thought, ashamed that she’d had it just now. Mary felt as though she’d trampled on what his mom had survived by being grateful she’d never had children.

Chester had wanted to.

He’d tried forcing the issue many times. Fortunately there were lots of clinics with the three-month birth control shot. She’d gotten smart early on and kept the pills around as a smokescreen.

She cleared her throat as he gave her a cup of hot cocoa. She’d never been much of a fan, but suddenly nothing sounded better than a warm, steaming cup of sweet, chocolatey goodness in the dead of night. Especially one shared with a hot, sexy, kind, and considerate man.

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