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Chapter One – Tank
My phone rings while I’m drying my hands. I head out of the bathroom and into the living room, where I scoop it off the coffee table and hit Answer.
“J?”
“What took you so long?” Jensen’s tone is impatient and harsh, but he’s been in such a mood lately it’s hardly unexpected.
“If you must know, I was taking a piss.”
“Reed was in the house.” Jensen ignores my jab to say words that have my head reeling.
That’s impossible.“How the fuck did he get in? That place is like Fort Knox.”
“I don’t fucking know. Just get here. Now!” Jensen’s voice vibrates with anger, but just underneath, there’s a layer of panic that’s fighting its way to the surface. He hangs up before I get the chance to ask how Skyla is.
I reach for my keys and leather jacket on the hook by the front door and head out to my truck. This is not good. Not good at all. I rack my brain thinking about how Reed could have gotten into the house and what he did while he was there. A thousand different scenarios spin through my mind, and my stomach sinks as I pull out of my driveway and floor the gas. I wasn’t kidding when I said the place was like Fort Knox. I’d seen to it myself that the house was impenetrable.
Obviously not, a silent voice nags at the back of my head.
A couple of months ago, all our lives got flipped on their asses. One minute Jensen, me, and our squad were in Kabul looking for Amir Busri, one of the most dangerous terrorists on the kill/capture list, and the next, we were told we had to find Busri while participating in a military serum trial. Apparently, the juice they were injecting into six out of fourteen of us was still in the development stage, but they wanted to test it in actual combat situations as opposed to the lab. This didn’t sit well with me, given that we were told a kid had experienced an adverse reaction during the lab testing and had since been catatonic, but orders were orders.
According to Trent, Jensen’s brother, who was part of the serum’s research and development team and was also with us in Kabul to conduct the trial, the serum was intended to manipulate the limbic system, altering the way the brain perceived the situation, thereby influencing reactions. The serum was supposed to heighten aggression and adrenaline and suppress fear. But since it was still in the testing phase, it only heightened the predominant emotion, and while we were right in the middle of a raid, one of the guys on our squad lost his shit and tried to off himself.
Trent came with us on the op to test said serum and was shot in the arm, nearly bleeding out. What resulted can only be described as a clusterfuck. The serum got jacked, and we were all pulled off the Busri mission to return to the States, where Jensen was assigned to figure out what happened to the serum.
I arrive at Jensen’s and jog up to the front door. In reality, I want to sprint up the fucking drive, but I don’t know who is at the house and who knows what’s going on, so I keep a steady pace in case my actions alarm anyone. I’m just about to knock on the door when my phone rings, and I see it’s Jensen.
“Where are you?” he barks.
“I’ve just arrived. I’m at the door.”
“Follow Skyla. Don’t let her out of your sight. Keep her safe.”
“You got it, J.”
I pocket my phone, and relief overwhelms me. She’s okay. Thank God she’s okay.
As a lieutenant in the Marines, the last thing I expected after being in Kabul for two years was to babysit Colonel Middleton’s daughter. But since the colonel was the lead on the serum team and the idea was his brainchild, keeping his daughter safe was a top priority. Especially after some guy who calls himself Reed kidnapped Trent and drugged both Jensen and Skyla, causing them to relight their old flame and betray Trent in the worst way by fucking each other. Skyla had gotten pregnant from that encounter, and Jensen told me last night she said it was her best friend Tyler’s kid. Anyone in their right fucking mind could tell it wasn’t Tyler’s kid and that Skyla was probably trying to protect Jensen, but he wouldn’t believe any of that. When it came to Skyla, there was no getting through to him, and yet he still wanted to make sure she was safe. I don’t think the guy was ever going to get over her.
There’s always been a ton of tension between Skyla and Jensen. On a blistering day in Kabul when we were lying in wait for some fucker who deserved to be torn limb from limb, Jensen had opened up to me about being in love with his brother’s girl. He told me they had been together before Skyla had gotten involved with Trent and that Skyla hadn’t wanted Trent to know. I could tell even after all this time—three and a bit years later—nothing’s changed for Jensen. He’s still very much in love with Skyla, and from what happened when they were drugged with the serum, I’d say Skyla feels the same.
For a brief moment, I wonder why Jensen isn’t going with Skyla, but something about his tone of voice tells me things aren’t going well between them. But it’s not my business. He’s not only my best friend but my CO, and all he’ll do is order me to shut my mouth. I lean casually against my truck as Skyla exits the house.
Fuck, this could’ve been so much worse.
She stalks past me and dumps her suitcase in the trunk of her car. The pain etched on her face confirms my suspicions of her still being in love with Jensen, but the minute she sees me, the pain turns to frustration.
I get it. I really do. I know Skyla is fed up with the constant security and having no privacy. She is scared and paranoid. I heard her unlock and lock her doors a hundred times at night. Saw her light burning through the window no matter what the time when Jensen was off following a lead to find his brother and I was standing guard. But I had a job to do, and I was going to do it.
I walk over to Skyla’s green Mazda and knock on the window. She yelps and just about jumps out of her skin. With shaking fingers, she lets the window down and lays her head on the steering wheel.
“I’m leaving, Tank. Please don’t follow me,” she begs, lifting her head to look at me. I can see the exhaustion mapped on her face.
I don’t know what to say. She knows there’s no way I can let her leave on her own, so I merely raise an eyebrow at her.
“I just want to be alone.”
“I know, ma’am, but I have orders.” I rest my arms on top of her car.
