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“Hell no, Major,” Mark answered. “You’re like fucking Superman. Made of steel. ” Mark’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
“Ignore him. He’s jealous. He just wishes he had all my scars. ”
Mark snorted beside him.
“Come here, love. ” He wrapped his good arm around her, pulling her close. “Right here. ” He kissed the top of her head, tucked her close, and stared out at the night as the pickup erased the short distance between the restaurant and his house. “I have you, Janey. I’m not letting you go, baby. I have you right here. ”
EIGHTEEN
Natches and Dawg had the house secured when Rowdy pulled into the drive and brought the truck to a stop at the back door.
Mark jumped from the passenger-side door, while Alex eased back, pulling Janey with him as that damned cat cried out pitifully.
“Here, Mark. ” With his good hand, he lifted the surprisingly docile feline to the other man. “There’s cat supplies in the cupboard in the kitchen. Never did get rid of the shit after Crista’s cat ran off. ”
So long ago. Hell, he could feel every damned year of his life weighing on his shoulders right now.
“Hold on to me,” he ordered Janey, lifting one of her arms around his neck as he gripped her waist with his good arm. His left arm was practically useless at this point. He suspected a nail was lodged inside it, though Mark hadn’t said anything either way. Alex could feel the shrapnel that was going to have to be dug out.
Bastard. It could have been Janey’s tender flesh riddled with the sharp projectiles. If he hadn’t been there, that first homemade bomb would have landed in her bed, taking her out immediately.
He had to fight back the fury at the thought of what they would have found. There would have been nothing left of the woman he held in his arms now.
“You can’t carry me, Alex. ” Janey tried to pull back, tried to keep him from exerting the hard muscles of his back and shoulders as he lifted her.
He did it anyway. His arm tightened around her hips, holding her to him as he nodded to Mark. Rowdy moved in front of them; Mark, carrying the cat, took up the rear as another man moved from the vehicle following them.
The back door opened quickly and Alex rushed her inside. He ignored Natches and Dawg’s expectant looks. “Mark, I need you and Tyrell with us in the bedroom. Now. ”
“Fuck that. ” Natches moved behind them. “You’re not keeping me out, Alex. ”
Alex kept going. He didn’t give a damn if Natches was there for now. Janey needed something, someone to hold on to, but God help Natches if he suggested taking her out of the house.
“Do you need your team, Major?” Tyrell asked, his voice chilly as they filed into the bedroom.
Alex shook his head as he set Janey on her feet and glanced at the other man. “They’re on assignment. ”
He’d let the team go when he’d taken that last hit to his leg in Iraq. The missions were getting longer, the danger becoming less adrenaline- and more ennui-infused. He was losing the drive and he knew it. As he looked at Janey, thought of the baby she could be carrying, he knew he wasn’t going back.
“Sit!” Mark Lessing, medic’s bag in hand, pushed Alex to the heavy kitchen chair Tyrell had dragged in.
“Janey, fix us some coffee,” Alex ordered her as he straddled the chair, knowing what was coming.
“Come on, sis. ” Natches wasn’t mocking or his normally overbearing self. His arm went around her shoulders.
She shrugged it off and glared back at all of them.
“Natches can make the coffee. ”
Alex closed his eyes as he propped his good arm on the back of the chair and watched her. “You don’t want to be here for this,” he told her, knowing what was coming, knowing that when Mark began detailing exactly what was buried in his shoulder she wasn’t going to be strong enough to handle it.
She was a woman. Tender. Sweet. She had no business here. He looked at Natches. “Get her out of here. ”
“Try it and find out just how well those self-defense classes I took work,” she warned her brother.
She wasn’t going anywhere. Janey moved slowly to her lover, staring at him, aching, hurting. She could feel the pain and the fear for him cutting through her like a dull, jagged knife.
“Don’t make me leave,” she whispered as she stood in front of him. “I should be here. ”
