Page 50 of Easy

“I’m okay, babe.” Sensation wrenched loose in his chest, and he closed his eyes and rested his head against hers, his throat suddenly contracting.

As her head came up, she shook it. “No, Easy, you’re not okay. You’ve been shot because of me, then you had to fight that man. It was terrifying to see you defending your life…defending mine.” She set her hand over his heart and squeezed her eyes closed, then exhaled heavily. “I’ve become very fond of you. I care what happens to you, regardless of why you’re here. It matters to me, Matt. It matters deeply to me.”

Her hand felt heavy against his bare skin, against his heart. He was responsible for her life, but it was more than that. She had weight, breadth, and depth, and he had discovered that with their desperate run across the country.

The feeling of possible exposure of his deepest fear rolled over him in a wrecking ball of emotion. He’d spent his life trying to remain strong, not give into any weakness, avoiding and protecting himself from feeling vulnerable, or opening himself to the possibility of uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. Because of Jeri, her rejection, her inability to be honest and tell him the truth about how she really felt about him. He’d let that one disastrous, deceptive relationship and her subsequent cruel rejection rule every aspect of his life up until now. Until he was placed in another situation with another womanwho wasn’t Jeri…Jack wasn’t Jeri.

Jack had shown him in so many ways how she had changed, how she had embraced what he’d told her about being genuine and authentic for herself, not for anyone else. Could he do no less for himself?

What kind of jerk would he be to hide what he was feeling, not only about his ability to do his job, but his ability to handle the stress of the consequences if he didn’t handle his job? He’d been blind, equating weakness with vulnerability. He was afraid of taking personal risks with his heart. That scared the hell out of him, but in Jack’s case, it was a moot point. His heart was already engaged, already locked in. Either way there was going to be pain. His hand covered his face on a soft curse. Jack deserved his vulnerability. She deserved to know what he was feeling. If he didn’t show her his fear, he wouldn’t be who he really was. Here and now was the only time that mattered. This moment where he could give her access to not only what were his real strengths, but also to his personal shortcomings and flaws that not only made him human but were a part of him.

So, he leapt into the jaws of his fear, his voice breaking, his chest heaving. He dropped his hand, met her gaze, and whispered, “Jack. I can’t fail you. I can’t.”

She cupped his face between her hands, her gaze fierce and protective. “You could never fail me. Ever, Easy. It’s your job to protect me and get me out of Venezuela, I get that. I understand your mission and I’m so humbled and grateful that you and your team are here for me. But this isn’t just a rescue anymore. Do you understand me? Don’t give me platitudes because you are too honest for that.”

“Okay, here it is.” He released a shuddering breath. “I’d rather die knowing I did everything in my power to keep you safe, get you home. That is all that matters to me now. Not because of my oath, but because I care a great deal about you, too.”

He’d stupidly tried to spare her feelings, which effectively cut her off from him, and he didn’t want that. He wanted her so close that he was almost sick with it. Why was he trying to keep her out? All Jack wanted was the truth.

That resonated through him with reverberations all the way back to Jeri. He’d been eighteen, in love with her since he was thirteen, a desperate kind of love that he’d buried because she still seemed out of reach, even when she was with him. He was never secure. His instincts warred with his denial, and somehow, he always knew. He remembered how she had deceived him, but more importantly, how he had deceived himself. That was the deepest cut. Her power over him made him feel so helpless and when he finally found out the truth about how she really felt about him, he was crushed and bitter. He had been a fool. The truth crushed him and his refusal to face his fear of her rejection damaged him. And fuck it. He’d been fucking relieved when she died. It took all the pressure off him. He’d felt guilty at her funeral, his reaction more for his two friends who had died than they had been for her. She didn’t deserve to die so young. He regretted that, but he couldn’t give her one more piece of him. Not back then and not now.

Her chin came up. “So, we’ve established that you care about me, and I care about you. Can we push the extraction?”

“No, Jack. That’s not how the military works. They tell us where to be, and we’re there or the train leaves. That’s my job. There are so many working parts in a rescue.” He leaned against the headboard. “How long have I been out?”

Oh, dammit. She had that look she’d had in the prison cell. That I’m-not-leaving-here- without-my-Jimmy-Choos look. Defiant at best and mutinous at the worst possible moment. They had no choice and time was running out. Ramos had resources, SEBIN on payroll, those murderous bastards, and he wouldn’t stop coming after Jack. “Just since yesterday.”

He released a soft sigh, relieved that they hadn’t missed their window. “We have time to make it then.” He reached out and clasped her hand. “Grab my ruck. There’s a waterproof pocket inside that zips.”

Jack reached for his bag leaning against the wall by the bed and jerked. The bag didn’t move. “How heavy is this thing?”

“Uhhh, fifty, maybe sixty pounds.”

Shaking her head, Jack found the pouch and pulled out a package of twelve round blue tablets. “It says one or two every six hours. What are these?”

“Morphine fifteen-milligram tablets. Better known as Miss Emma. They’ll get me where I need to go.”

“You can travel?” she asked, her voice rising an octave.That look hadn’t gone away. If anything, it got more intense if that was possible. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. MS15, babe.” Being a sailor, he knew a mutiny when he saw one. Her face hardened, her eyes flashed.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yes, it fucking hurts like a bitch. I’m already frustrated and annoyed that I’m the weak link here.” He took a calming breath. Losing his temper with her because he was stressed was a dick move. “Jack, I’m a SEAL, not some guy off the street. We have contingencies in these cases, medications that can get me through the pain. I’m never out of the fight no matter what.”

She held his gaze in the face of his impotent anger, a challenging expression in her eyes. “So, this is about your oath?”

He stifled a heavy sigh. “No,” he growled. “This is about fulfilling orders if I’m capable of doing so. I’m in the Navy. I take orders from Tex. I don’t refuse them. Don’t you understand? This is what I do, and I’m going to do it. As long as I’m breathing and mobile, you’re getting to that chopper.”

She stared at him, transfixed, looking totally winded. She closed her eyes, lifting herself away from him. “Well, I’m not in the Navy! How about I disappear, find my own way home and you can rest here until you're ready to leave. How about I do that?”

Easy was taken aback by what he saw reflected in her gaze—a hunger as deep as his own.

“Damn you, Easy.” She rose, and without another word to him, she flounced out of the room.

“Goddammit, Jack! Come back here. Don’t you dare leave here without me!” Even as they argued, Ramos was regrouping. He was getting more men, another chopper to replace the one he’d grounded. God knew what else was going on behind the scenes. Things Shark didn’t know. Machinations to capture her once again. Easy couldn’t be the reason Ramos got to Jack.

“Problems?” Juan asked, standing in the doorway eating an apple.

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