Jonathan loved the way Gwen curled into him after sex. She got this tender, satiated smile on her pretty lips that remained red from his kisses for hours. She always fell asleep within minutes, sometimes moving from the depths of her orgasm straight into a good night’s sleep.

Tonight, their third in a row together, he’d licked her wet folds and sucked on her clit until she came twice. He’d finally allowed himself to slide into her hot sheath and take his own pleasure. They’d started earlier than usual, right after the supper crowd had thinned.

Gwen lay beside him, circling his flat nipple with her index finger. “Why do you leave my bed every night as soon as I fall asleep? You can protect me from five inches away. Besides, it would take a safecracker to get through the new security system Guardian installed.”

“I’m just not comfortable sleeping all night with a woman.” He’d admitted it, finally.

She stiffened and rolled away from him. “Then get the hell out of my bed.”

He didn’t want to go. Ever, if he acknowledged the truth to himself. “What’s wrong?”

She rolled back over and faced him, sitting up. “What’s wrong? I guess I need to know where I stand, or more accurately, lay. We’ve spent practically every moment together for the last four days. Is this going anywhere other than to bed? Am I nothing more to you than this week’s fuck buddy, because that’s the way I feel.”

He sat up to face her and reached for her.

She slapped his hands away. “You’re not going to distract me with round three. Answer the question.”

Fuck. This woman had been filling his heart since he’d kissed her on the rooftop. Maybe since she snatched the gun from Bitsy’s hand. He didn’t want to let go of what they had, what had been growing between them.

But he was afraid to spend the night in her bed. What if he hurt her like he had…

He wanted more from Gwen, so he had to tell her. He sighed deeply. “Back in Miami, I had…a long-term relationship.” Fuck this was hard. “You know I was in the Marines.”

She nodded, but said nothing.

“I was involved in some real ugly shit over there and…sometimes.” How could he explain without sounding like an abusive bastard? He didn’t even know what he’d done, until he saw the bruises. “In my sleep, I must have had a flashback.” He swallowed hard. “The next morning she…she looked like she’d been mugged. She had bruises…” he choked on the memory and fought self-disgust.

“She told me she’d tried to wake me up when I started yelling in my sleep.” He stared past Gwen into the darkness of her bedroom and fought the heat behind his eyes. “I had attacked her.” He looked at Gwen’s tear-filled eyes. “I didn’t remember any of it. Not a thing. Not the nightmare I obviously had, and certainly not hurting her.”

Gwen’s shoulders slumped as a tear fell.

“I could never let that happen to you.” He cupped her face and swiped away the tears with his thumbs. “You mean too much to me.”

She threw herself into his arms and let the tears flow. “It wasn’t your fault.” She repeated the phrase until she got ahold of her emotions. Sitting back, she dragged in a breath. “PTSD is a bitch and comes in so many forms, often in night terrors. They should teach spouses and girlfriends how to awaken war veterans, especially you SpecOps guys. You’re the jumpiest bunch of men I’ve ever met, lethal even in your sleep.”

She managed a smile. “If hurting me is what you’re worried about, you’ve forgotten I’m a trained Army nurse. I’ve seen men like you in their worst pain who wake up fighting.” She leaned in and held him. Her warm naked body against his was soothing, comforting this time, not arousing. “Sleep with me. It’ll be okay.” She laid her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back onto the bed.

Jonathan had the best sleep in years.

Feeling refreshed the next morning, razor in hand, he looked at the man in the mirror. He liked what he saw. It was as though a weight had been lifted. He’d been freed from bonds that leashed him to his past.

Gwen had done this for him. She was amazing. And his. As he scraped the reddish stubble from his jaw, he glanced at door, her sleeping body on the other side, wondering if they had time for a proper morning wakeup. He glanced down at the tented towel around his waist and decided she could be late.

They had fallen into a routine. Men from Guardian would take turns eating at Up In Smoke throughout the day, no hardship, given the terrible cook at the center. Jonathan helped Griffin and Quin with the training, sat in on update calls from Alex, and protected Gwen every night while in her bed.

The teenage boys hadn’t shown at the diner, but given the conversations their parents were having—information surprisingly shared by Homeland Security—it was no wonder. The adults surrounding them were deeply embedded in the Dallas terrorist cell. Although Friday had been confirmed as the intended date, there had been multiple choices as to the location. Dallas was a hopping city that liked to party on the weekend, especially in the promised good weather.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone at Guardian when Alex showed up very late Wednesday night. What did surprise Jonathan was that he immediately wanted to meet Gwen. She was in charge of closing that night and agreed to the meeting as long as Alex came to her.

Jonathan glanced up at the big diner clock at eleven-fifty as Alex strode in, Quin and Griffin right behind him.

“Alex, nice to see you,” Jonathan shook his hand. “Has the threat level against Gwen increased?”

“No,” Alex smiled as Gwen approached. “I just wanted to meet the woman who discovered what might be the second most lethal terrorist plot against the United States. We weren’t able to stop 9/11 but thanks to five teenage boys gossiping in this diner, and the brilliance of one former Army lieutenant, we may have thwarted attacks in every major city.”

“Every city?” Her eyes were huge.

“Yes.” Alex explained, “From the cellphone calls, Homeland determined that this attack was directed by Caliph Ibrahim, the leader of the Islamic State. He wanted to prove he was better than Al Qaeda by hurting the USA more than al Zawahiri’s predecessor, Osama bin Laden.”

Shock washed over Gwen’s face. “Did they…are they getting the others?”

Jonathan put his arm around her in support.

Alex’s satisfied grin said more than his words. “Over a thousand warrants are being served tonight in every major city by the FBI.” He sighed, “Except Dallas. They can’t find Aqil, the man the boys indicated planted bombs, and they don’t want to tip him off by arresting others. The FBI has brought in agents from all over Texas and has teams waiting throughout the city, ready to take down this cell.”

Jonathan quickly texted hid friend, Cruz Livingston, to see if he had been pulled into the area. You in Dallas hanging out with handcuffs?

Not by choice. Miss my Mickie. You know about this shit storm?

Jonathan smiled. More than he would ever share, least of all in a text. LOL. Right in the middle. Drinks afterward? He would love to catch up with his friend and would need alcohol after this was over.

Definitely. Going to be a long few days. Cruz had that right.

Stay safe, my friend. Jonathan hoped everyone would be able to return home safe and sound once they had resolved this mess.

You do the same. Looks like we’re moving out. Talk soon. Cruz had just given him some of the best news of the night.

The diner door opened and a disheveled Kane entered.

“We’re closed,” Quin commanded and sneered.

“No, shit.” Kane gazed at Gwen who nodded then walked into the back without another glance at the group of men.

“I take it you know him?” Quin asked Gwen as she locked the front door.

“Yes.” Her voice was clipped.

Quin slid a look at Jonathan who gave a very, almost imperceptible nod. He’d had the same impression the first time he’d seen Kane. His opinion hadn’t improved much, only his understanding of the man’s predicament had eased Jonathan’s fears for Gwen’s safety.

Kane emerged with a mop and bucket and started in the far corner of the diner where chairs sat upside down on top of the tables. Jonathan glimpsed Luis moving around the kitchen in shut-down.

Gwen refocused the men on their previous conversation. “So where do you think they intend to attack. Perhaps I can help. I know this area pretty well and after all my years in the Army, I can think like a terrorist.”

She grabbed her computer from under the counter and sat down on her usual stool. After pulling up a map of the area, the men moved in close. Jonathan took the stool on one side of her, Quin on the other.

“So, what are the possibilities?” she asked.

For the next fifteen minutes, they discussed each site Homeland had identified.

“It’ll be the new American Airlines towers,” a deep voice from behind the group claimed.

Everyone turned to Kane.

“And how the fuck would you know that?” Quin’s tone was filled with accusation.

Griffin grabbed the front of Kane’s plaid shirt and pulled him to within an inch of his face. “What do you know about terro—”

Kane swept out his leg and had Griffin on the tiled floor, his large body immovable, a knife at his neck, before he could finish his sentence. “I’ve killed more fucking terrorists than you’ve ever seen. You know nothing about me.”

“Let him up, Kane,” Gwen ordered in calm voice. “He is not your enemy. He’s one of the good guys.”

No one moved.

“Kane,” Jonathan said as casually as he could. “Meet Griffin Mitchel. He’s the manager of the Guardian Security center in Miami. And a former SEAL…like you.”

Kane seemed to leap backwards three feet, quickly folding his knife away. He shoved up his long sleeve exposing the three-toed tracks. “Team Four.” He extended his hand to Griffin. “I’m sorry, brother.”

Griffin took his hand and stood. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Kane smiled. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

Alex stepped over to the two former SEALs who were still sizing each other cautiously. “Alex Wolf.” He held out his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, again, sir,” Kane all but stood at attention. At Alex’s questioning look, Kane glanced at Quin then held his gaze on Jonathan. “After we met earlier in the week, I checked you out.” His attention went to Alex. “Then I saw your picture. I recognized you. Guatemala. You were the task force commander and I was the comm sergeant for the Navy contingent, so far down the chain of command I’m sure you don’t remember me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.” Alex looked him over again. “What happened?”

Kane sneered then looked to Gwen. She nodded and he returned his gaze to Alex. “Gwen can explain it better, she was there. The bottom line is my unit all caught a bug in the mountains in northern Afghanistan. It about killed us. Some got over it in two weeks, others it took nearly a month, and left all of us weak as babies. Me, well, it attacked my pancreas and left me with Type 1 Diabetes.”

Kane now looked into the eyes of the other men and took a deep breath. “When I got home, I’d lost over forty pounds and needed shots every few hours.” His lips drew a tight line. “I guess my wife forgot the part of our vows, in sickness and in health. She left me within a week. I lost my house, my truck, and my wife while waiting for my VA benefits to kick in.” One end of his mouth cocked up. “I really miss my truck.”

Gwen swatted his shoulder. “Not your wife?”

“Nah.” Kane shrugged. “I think she’d been fucking around on me. After she left I found a bunch of voicemails that pretty much confirmed it for me. She was really quick with divorce papers.”

Quin asked, “So is that when you two hooked up?”

Gwen quickly corrected any assumptions. “I found Kane on the streets while trying to give away some of the leftover food one night.” She threw an arm around him. “I’ve been trying to convince him to use some of those other VA benefits he has, but he’s just a hard-headed squid.”

“Yeah, right.” He scowled. “Job counseling. How’s that going to work? I don’t have a phone or an address. Second tent on the left in the third row under Interstate 45? No. The city closed that encampment down back in May and just expected the three hundred people living there—men, women, and kids, so goddamned many hungry kids—to magically find somewhere else to live. I have nowhere to go.” Frustration emanated in emotional waves off him. “And what am I going to do? I haven’t found a Machine Gunners local union hall to register my skill set. And then there’s the problem of the insulin that I have to inject every day to make sure by body absorbs enough sugar to function. If I get low, I get slow.” He shook his head and stared across the black and white checkered floor. “I have to finish mopping.”

“Before you do that, Kane,” Alex asked, “would you mind telling us why you think it’d be the American Airlines towers?”

“That’s easy,” Kane explained. “First, its name is American and they hate everything American. If they can destroy something that bears the word, they win. Second, there will be lots of media there, not just local but national, and thousands of people in the audience. The governor is reportedly attending along with lots of other brass. Third,” he pointed to the screen, “Gwen, flip to satellite mode, would you please?”

Green filled the screen. “See all these trees? What a great place to hide with easy escape routes.” He pointed to acres of old-growth trees bordered by four-lane highways.

“Do you know this area?” Alex asked.

“Extremely well. My house is…was…in Stone Creek.” He pointed to the cluster of homes on the other side of the four-lane highway. “I used to run my dog through that whole area.”

If Jonathan hadn’t looked up at that moment, he would have missed the silent exchange that passed between Alex and Quin.

“We need your help,” Alex stated. “I agree with your assessment. Tonight, I want you in the hotel with us. Tomorrow, we’ll recon this area, and just to satisfy SOCOM and Homeland, we’ll check out the other possibilities. American Airlines feels right.”

Kane’s back straightened. “I’ll just meet you in the morning.”

“I’m not offering you charity.” Alex gave the man a hard look. “I’m giving you a soft bed to sleep in tonight, a hot shower in the morning, and a Guardian uniform to wear tomorrow while I work your ass off trying to save lives. You’ll be paid for your time, sailor.”

Jonathan was part of a great team. Tomorrow would be interesting to say the least. He’d missed that mission rush of adrenalin.