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“We all can feel her,” Jacob drawls quietly from the rear seat, his SIG locked and loaded on his lap.
What we share with Justice is damn confusing on a good day. What we feel for her goes deeper than just attraction. The moment I kissed her, Lucian and Jacob both said they felt the whisper soft feel of Justice’s lips on theirs. They knew when the second I decided to go down on her as if it were their own thoughts. Like a sixth or even seventh sense. I don’t fucking know. It’s driving me crazy. Because while I’m fighting my own desires for the woman, I’m also fighting theirs. We only amplify all the chaotic emotions swirling around us like a kicked hornet’s nest.
Lust had been on our minds up until the moment someone decided to paint a target on her back. And now, only pain and fear feeds through all of us. Not ours. Hers. She needs us. Jacob swears he can feel her tears, hear her silent pleas for us to find her.
I have a feeling this connection or some untapped sense we share will only grow stronger, deeper. It scares the fuck out of me honestly. Before Justice none of us has ever experienced something so wholly consuming. And now? Fuck. I don’t know. I just don’t. How do we steal away the woman buried so deep in our senses we are a part of her, a woman we can’t have without bringing hellfire down on all of us? It would ruin Justice's future, not to speak of our own. If that were to happen, what could we give her but a life of misery?
Quick answer is we don’t. We should walk away while we can. The more complex response is we find a way to be worthy enough of Justice and then maybe her mother will step off. Give us room to figure all this out.
I don’t believe that lie for a minute. But a truth none of us has faced is if it’s this strong without claiming her, what will it be like after we’ve touched, tasted and saturated our senses with everything that makes up Justice?
I pull myself from my thoughts and focus.
We’re going in blind, but we have enough experience between us to not get killed. It had taken all of five minutes to convince Mrs. Thorne to let us handle this given our backgrounds, and in less than ten minutes I know we’ll have Justice in hand, safe and sound. No one else the wiser. Not unless it comes to that.
I exchange a look with my brothers, and the silent understanding we share is so far outside the realm of normal all we can do is nod. Nothing in our six years in the US military tail-ended by another four years as active SEALs prepared us for the storm caused by one Justice Thorne.
Or how we feel about her. A woman none of us had touched, until yesterday and look where that landed her.
I check my weapon again to help steel my nerves.
She might have us walking through cut glass, but combat? That we can handle on any level. We’re ready, and getting a little more blood on our hands won’t be a problem.
I shake my head to clear my mind. Keep it on task. I’m no good to anyone jacked up with guilt for pushing her away like I did. I’ve seen her face in my dreams a thousand times, always smiling and filled with joy. Then I crushed her. The hurt splashed across her face as she stormed off shreds me as much as letting her leave the building unprotected. I can kick myself in the ass later, when she’s back home and safe.
Lucian swings an arm out and thumps my chest, palm out. “We’re going to find her, man. Ease up on the teeth gnashing already. Like nails on a fucking chalkboard over here.”
“I know we’ll fucking find her. Get your eyes off me and pay attention to where the fuck you’re going. Another block and then take a hard left. Ease in quiet,” I grind out, uncaring of anyone’s feelings. Experience tells us they—whoever the helltheyare—will keep their hostage deep inside and farthest away from any exit point.
The only redemption in this whole cluster fuck is Justice walking away with my phone still in my jacket, and we had a few backdoor connections to knock on to get fast answers. Lucky for us, the numbnuts who took her didn’t have the common sense that when kidnapping someone you make sure their whereabouts are untraceable—aka ditch the cell phones.
I smash my fist into the dashboard of our SUV. The bright green eyes of our sweet angel haunt me, and I swear I can still smell the scent of her body filling my nostrils. Lucian takes a sharp turn down a dead-end alley and rolls to a silent stop. Finally.
I look at the Google maps and see we’ve come to the end of the right road.
“After this if you feel the need to let off a little steam, I can go a few rounds with you. No problem letting you have a few good left hooks to that stubborn head of yours.”
“Screw you.”
“Right backatcha.”
I raise my fist, and Lucian gives me a bump. That’s all it takes. I’m lucky to have brothers-in-arms who understand my ire. Two of the scariest motherfuckers I can ask for who never judge and always have my back and me theirs.
“On me.”
When we leave the SUV and approach the side of the darkened warehouse, all three of us slip back into our roles as SEALs effortlessly. This mission is no different from the rescue missions we’ve pulled off while still pulling a paycheck from Uncle Sam.
“No emotion. Grab the package, drop as few bodies as possible,” I say and from there on out it’s pure hand signals.
Dank coldness greets us as we hug the shadows and make our way around the side of the warehouse, checking rafters for spotters as we advance deeper. Fifty feet in there’s a single windowless door and two empty chairs beside it.
Bingo.
Muffled male voices grow louder the closer we get. I hold up a fist, and we all come to a stop. Lucian takes one side as I come to stand on the other. A little jiggle and the handle gives. Someone had to be inside with our girl.
Jacob goes in first, gun drawn to find two assholes leaning over our girl—their eyes wide with surprise. The glint of light off dangling belt buckles highlights a sinister scene about to take place.
I pull the trigger to an explosion of red. Months and years of practice kick in and I do my part in securing the room while Jacob takes care of the other kidnapper. Instead of pumping the bastard full of lead like they both deserve, Jacob takes the closest man who looks to be no older than mid-twenties out with one punch across a weak jaw.
