Wounded Courage (Lucky Thirteen) (18 page)

“Shut up, Richter.” Dylan snapped. “I couldn’t give two shits about Cadence Long. She’s not my type.”

“Yeah, right.” Jesse snickered. “If she has a vagina, she’s your type.”

Dylan growled low, but didn’t say anything else. He chugged another vodka shot and chased it with a beer. His body was tense, the anger wafting from him in waves. He must have actually liked this Cadence chick. Apparently, there was more there than Dylan wanted to talk about and I didn’t intend to bring up sore spots in his life. I decided the best course of action was to change the subject. “So, Cordelia over Buffy, huh?”

They stared at me for a second, and then all of them burst out laughing. Jesse shook his head. “You heard that shit? Dumbass over there—” he pointed to Urban “—thinks Cordy’s got a better ass than Buffy.”

“It’s all the cheerleader practices,” Dylan replied. They all stared at him. “What?” Cheerleading had been high school, but the statement still made me blush. His eyebrows lifted in realization and he grinned sheepishly. “Oh, sorry.”

“Fucking moron.” Jesse poured vodka into a shot glass, and downed it in one gulp. He shook his head. I couldn’t remember how old he was, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t twenty-one either. I wondered if this was actually an above-board party, but it wasn’t my business.

I’d done a lot of underage parties as a teen. Cheerleaders got invited to everything. It had been a long time since I’d been a cheerleader. Or since I’d been that girl. A year of secret plans had a way of aging a person beyond what they were. “What’s with the party here, anyway?”

“We’re off duty,” Jesse replied. “They have another team on security tonight. This is kind of our rest and relaxation time, since most of us have been out of the country for a long time.”

“So you guys do get time off?” I didn’t know why I thought different. No one could function being at work all the time.

“Sure. We stay busy, but everyone needs to blow off a little steam every once in a while. We’ve been on call for months with this whole Giroux thing going on.” He stopped, and cleared his throat. “But you probably knew that, right?”

“Yeah,” I lied. Before, I’d known they’d been on it for a few weeks before the infiltration of the Alex Giroux mansion. But I hadn’t realized—really realized—just how long they’d been on the trail of the Giroux family. If they’d been on this case for so long, and gathered all this information, but for some reason, a huge detail like me wasn’t there… Probably most of what I’d given them was new. They really were way behind the Giroux family. Knowing Simon, he probably had a file on each and every member of Lucky Thirteen.

“So, how are you and Murphy doing?” Dylan asked.

The question sent a blush rising to my cheeks. “What?”

“Dude, we all see the way y’all look at each other,” Dylan said. “Sexual tension, my friend. There’s a shit ton. A sexual fucking brick of tension.”

“There’s nothing between me and Murphy.” The blush on my cheeks heated, and I swear it spread down my neck. “We grew up together. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” Jesse laughed. “You guys have been ogling each other for weeks. There’s so much sexual tension
I’m
turned on when you guys walk in the room.”

“Please, asshole, you’d be turned on if any skirt walked in the room.” Dylan said. He glanced at me sheepishly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t talk like that.”

I laughed. It was amusing to see the guy backtrack so fast. “It’s cool,” I replied, leaning back.

“No, it’s really not,” Gabe leaned over me and punched Dylan in the shoulder. “Apologize, you fucktard.”

The dichotomy nearly made me laugh. They could call each other names and punch each other, but they couldn’t call a woman a skirt without apologizing.

Dylan blushed, hanging his head slightly. “My apologies, Miss Hardy.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been called much worse.” It was almost uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to it.

“Doesn’t make it right,” Richter grumbled.

“Anyway, I’m not offended. It’s fine. And it’s Addison, not Miss Hardy.”

“He’s just being a sourpuss,” Gabe laughed.

“Also, sorry to disappoint you guys, but there’s no sexual tension between me and Eamon Murphy.” I felt like I needed to get that out there. Murphy and I had already had sex, but it wasn’t something we needed floating around.

They all laughed, loud and boisterously. Obviously, they did not agree.

“Yeah, okay.” Jesse shook his head. “If you guys haven’t fucked each other yet, it’s coming soon. We all see it.”

“You guys are nuts.” I laughed, unease flittering through me. I doubted that Murphy wanted me perpetuating rumors through his unit. “Murphy and I are not together.” I didn’t know why it was necessary to prove that there was nothing between us. Maybe it was just that we’d spent so long denying our relationship that it had become second nature to us. Plus, I wasn’t sure where he stood. Love was one thing… but did he want to commit? Did I? Could we at all, with the current situation?

“It’s all cool if you wanted to release a little of that tension. He’s attracted to you. You’re attracted to him. It’s a little… mutual… attraction thing going on. There ain’t nothing saying a woman can’t sate herself on a man the way men do with women.” Jesse grinned. Everyone stopped and stared. Jesse glanced at all of them and lifted his hands, palm up. “What?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Dylan asked. He flicked a beer bottle cap at him. “Idiot.”

“Just sayin’!” Jesse lifted his hands up in a mock surrender. “It’s okay for a woman to like sex, for shit’s sakes.”

“Then say that instead of that whole circular nonsense you just spouted.” Dylan frowned.

“Shut the fuck up!” Gabe said, tossing a bottle cap at Jesse. It bounced off his chest and fell to the floor. “You’re making Addison uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m fine.” I said, taking another swig of the beer in my hand. “I’d be lying if I said that Murphy isn’t hot. He is. But I’m the best friend’s little sister. Isn’t there some kind of bro code?”

“Aren’t you guys like twins?” Jesse asked. “You’re not really his little sister. You’re kinda the same age.”

“Chris was born fifteen minutes before me.” I shook my head. “If what Chris said was true, it’s really fifteen years.”

“Murphy doesn’t think so.”

“I’m telling you guys. Murphy’s not interested. Not like that.” There was no debating that he liked having sex with me, but I really didn’t think that he wanted me long term. I was just the current obsession, the girl they needed information from.

“Man, girls don’t know jack,” Dylan said. “There ain’t a guy here that isn’t interested, sweetheart, especially Murphy. You’re hot shit. We’d all do you if you’d let us.”

“Oh, my God, shut up, Dylan! Quit ribbing her.” Gabe spoke up. “If she wants to pretend there ain’t nothing there, then fine. Let her live in her delusion.” He paused and looked at me. “No offense, Addison.”

“How is that not offensive?” I laughed.

The guys continued jabbing at each other, but luckily, they held off on giving me any more shit about Murphy. I couldn’t take it tonight, and somehow they’d caught on to that. He had done things that made me feel amazing, and then there was nothing. As I sat there, listening to them talk about the most random of things, I came to the realization that I didn’t want to take the answer “no” at all when it came to Eamon Murphy. I wanted the whole package… but I wasn’t sure that he would.

Addison

I was buzzing two hours into my drinking session with the guys. It was maybe one in the morning when Gabe bailed, talking about duty in the morning. That left me alone with Jesse and Dylan.

“So, why do you guys call each other by your last names?” I took the offered vodka shot from Jesse. “Cheers.” I tipped my head back and downed the shot.

“It’s a military thing,” Jesse said, taking the empty glass from me. He’d been playing bartender for me all night. “You know? Calling each other by the first names is more… personal. Intimate.” He shrugged. “Who wants to be more intimate with an asshole like Urban?”

Dylan flipped his friend off, swaying just a little. “It’s a good thing I like you, Richter, or I’d fucking punch you in the dick.”

I giggled, and picked up my beer. I liked these guys. They were human. They were real. Not like Murphy. Not like my brother. Those two were perfect, as my family had always reminded me, time and time again.
Why couldn’t you be more like Chris? Eamon is such a good boy.

“So, what do I call you? Richter, or Jesse?”

“Sweetheart, you could call me anything you want.” He grinned. “Except Princess Pretty Pants. Because that would be weird.” The three of us dissolved into drunken laughter again.

My brother had made my parents proud, being a SEAL, and serving his country. It was even worse to find out just how important his job was. He wasn’t just a SEAL. He was a Secret SEAL. And I was a leftover, an afterthought in the brilliance of his birth.

And Murphy was so serious. So good at what he did. He was too good to be true, and the more I drank, the more I wanted him. I’d seen a part of him I didn’t think many people saw. I’d seen him smile, joke with me. Hell, he’d shown me compassion, and I didn’t think the hardened military man would do that normally. He made me feel… special.

“Addison…”

Speak of the devil.

I glanced up, and my breath hitched. Murphy wore black sweatpants that hung low on his hips. No shirt, and sweat glistened on his chest. I did love to see post-workout Murphy.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

“I went to workout.”

“Yeah, that was a while ago.” I nodded, while Dylan giggled.

“I thought you’d be in your room.” Oops. That’s right. I was supposed to stay there. I was tired of that room though. There was nothing to do here.

“Hey, Murph. We’re drinking. Want a beer?” Jesse asked.

Murphy did not look amused. “No.”

Dylan shrugged and took a long pull off his bottle. “Your loss. Your girl here can drink. She’s been loads of fun.”

Murphy’s eyes widened in surprise. I rolled my eyes. Of course. Now he’d think I was telling everyone I was his girlfriend. “I’m not his girl, Dylan. We went over this, already.” I avoided looking back at Murphy, because I didn’t want to see if what he was thinking right then.

“Whatevs. Y’all figure that shit out on your own time.”

I glanced at Murphy through the corner of my eye and cringed. His piercing eyes slammed into me, leaving me breathless. His gaze weakened my knees and made me glad I was already sitting down.

“Addison, can I speak with you for a moment?” 

Get up? Yeah, right. That wasn’t gonna happen. I’d been drinking for two hours straight.

“Damn Murph’s getting all pro up in here!” Dylan laughed. But looking at the serious look on Murphy’s face, I bit my lip and broke eye contact with him. My face flushed with the alcohol in my blood. I hadn’t stayed where I told him I would. He probably wouldn’t understand that I needed out. He never needed anything. He was Murphy. He was perfect.

“I’ll be back guys,” I told them. I set my beer down and maneuvered my way around the guys. I knew I didn’t have to listen to Murphy, but he had asked nicely and I was buzzed just enough to feel generous.

Murphy grabbed my arm as soon as I was in reach and pulled me out into the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m having a drink,
Dad
,” I sneered, and pulled my arm free. “What are you doing?”

He stiffened. “I came back to your room and you were gone. You said you’d stay there.”

“You didn’t come back. I woke up and you were still gone. So I left.”

“I had things I had to take care of before I could come back.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “That’s not why you didn’t come back.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re a coward.”

“What?” Anger slid onto his expression. Okay. Maybe calling a SEAL a coward wasn’t the best move. I pushed on anyway, because that’s what you do when you’re drunk and acting stupid. “Where do you get that?”

“You’re afraid to tell me you don’t really love me.” My throat closed, trapping the oncoming tears in my throat.

“I already told you, I don’t lie, Addison.”

“Yeah, but you can be wrong. I’ve been thinking a lot, Murphy, these last few days. I’ve had all sorts of time to do that. If you love me, you have to love all of me, and right now, I don’t think you do. You tolerate me, because I’m part of your mission.”

“Addison, you cannot tell me what I feel.”

Drunkenly, I shook my head and looked down at my feet. “It’s not real. It can’t be.”

“That’s not your call to make,” he snapped. “I told you, I’m not letting you walk away from me. Not again.”

It was really difficult to speak with a rock in my throat. “And I’m telling you, you have to. Because I can’t do this, and honestly…” I paused, thinking about my next words really carefully. “There’s not room for you when I have to leave.”

I had enough liquid courage in my body to fuel this honesty. I knew if I were sober, I’d have cowered in the face of his anger. The man was terrifying when he was angry. And the rage that took over his body then pulsed outward like a nuclear explosion.

“Wait… you’re breaking up with me to go hang out with an international gangster?”