Retribution (35 page)

Alive was the key word. He had bumps and bruises, cuts that’d needed suturing, but he’d been alive. Kelly Jordian had pulled him from the rubble. His old friend had been there at his back, and never had Dray been more grateful for his help than that moment.

And he’d known in the midst of fire and chaos he needed to stay low. That meant allowing everyone to think he’d perished. Oh, he’d hung around long enough for Sasha to be rescued, and he’d made sure his brother was safe, but he could absolutely not let anyone know he’d made it out.

Dempsey was still alive. Dray had killed a body double. He’d also been betrayed by a man he’d entrusted his life to.

Bleak was a dead man.

Kelly had run recon for Dray on Sasha, keeping him updated on her condition. Once she’d returned to Gainesville, Dray had begun planning.

Those plans were now set in stone. He was going hunting.

But first, he had to see her. The compulsion was too great, and the need in his soul wouldn’t allow her to believe he was dead. Could she keep that to herself? He didn’t know. But he did know he loved her. Having almost lost her, he was assured of that fact beyond any doubt.

Sasha Bennoit was the other half of him.

He was bat-shit crazy for coming here. Coleman Bennoit was a former Green Beret, and as Dray had traversed the many alarms Sasha’s dad had all over his property, he’d been both reassured and frustrated. At one point he’d thought he’d tripped one, but when no sirens or lights engaged, he’d continued on. He’d scaled the wall to her room with little to no problems, and now here he stood.

There was meager moonlight, but what there was filtered through the window he’d just opened, drifting over her sleeping face and highlighting her beauty. He rubbed his chest. The woman took his breath.

His hands clenched, and as if she fed off his need, she moaned on the bed and turned over to her other side. Dray moved quietly, wincing when a board creaked beneath his feet. He stilled and headed once again for her bed.

Lightly, so fucking lightly, he lowered his big frame to her bed, sitting down and letting everything go quiet again. His blood roared through his ears, loud as his heart struggled to beat. Her scent wafted to him, lemons, and his mouth watered.

He reached for her then, moving quickly as he turned her to her back and placed a hand over her mouth. She woke immediately, eyes going wide and nostrils flaring.

“It’s me,” he whispered at her ear. “Nod if you understand.”

Seconds passed by, maybe a full minute, before the tension in her body drained and she nodded.

“I’m going to move my hand, okay? Please don’t yell.”

He pulled up and looked down at her. Her gaze was filled with fear, but there was something else there, confusion with a touch of…
rage
.

Oh, his woman was pissed. Dray wanted to laugh but thought it prudent not to. Before he could blink, she punched him in the face, rocking him to the side before he could stop himself.

Pain sliced up his jaw. “Son of a bitch! Why’d you hit me?” he asked in a furious whisper.

She growled low in her throat as she pulled her legs up and pressed back into the headboard of her bed. “You’re alive.”

“Yeah, and I’d appreciate it if you’d lower your voice and keep that fact to yourself,” he muttered, moving his lower jaw to the left and right, wondering for a crazy moment if she’d broken it.

Then she launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, burying her face in his neck, and holding on for all she was worth. He closed his eyes and offered up a prayer of thanks.

“I’m sorry,
mo ghrá
, sorry I ever let you think I was dead,” he said in a low voice. Relief was a low hum through his body.

She sobbed into his chest, and her tears were wet lashes, biting and deep. He stroked her back, neck, arms, any part of her he could reach, he petted.

After long moments, Sasha took a deep breath and looked up at him. Wonder broke over her face as she traced his lips, his cheeks, his eyebrows. Her gaze still held disbelief and pain. So much fucking pain.

“I thought you were gone,” her voice broke. “And I died inside.”

Surely he was bleeding inside. “I’m here. You’re here. It’s all right.”

“Where have you been?” she asked into his neck.

“Waiting,” he said in a hard voice. “I’ve been waiting.”

“For what?”

He shook his head. She didn’t need to know his plans. Not right now. “The right time,” he simply said.

Time passed then, as her body relaxed against him and her heart slowed to match the beat of his own. He was here with her and it was enough. It must have been for her too, because she didn’t say a word.

“You’re staying?” she asked into the silence.

“I’ll always be here with you,” Dray whispered against the top of her head.

She nodded. “Lay with me?”

“Oh, baby, there’s nothing I’d like better.”

He shifted them so she was facing the window he’d crawled through, and he was stretched out behind her. She pressed into the curve of his body, and he was the one sighing as their warmth mingled.

“I’m so tired, Dray. I’ve missed you so much.”

His eyes burned. “I’m here now, Sasha. Rest.”

“You’ll be here?”

She didn’t trust him. He hoped one day he’d be able to earn that back.

“I’ll always be here, baby.” He affirmed again and then kissed her neck.

“I love you,” she said, and then between one breath and the next, she was out.

He allowed himself thirty minutes of touching her as she slept. It would be dawn soon, and he had to hike back through the woods to the lake where he’d left a skiff. A tremor worked through him, and he wondered if it was a warning of sorts. He continued to hold her close, smelling her, feeling her, knowing she was there with him. Regret beat at him, fear not too far behind.

In the darkness he spoke the words he’d never be able to say were she awake. “No one can know I’m alive yet.” He drew in a deep breath and released it when he could hold it no longer. “Please understand, baby, I have to do this. I have to hunt and eliminate the threats to us. We’ll never be free if I don’t. Please,
mo ghrá
, please understand.”

The tremor that had just shaken rocked his foundations again. Dray dismissed it. He had no choice. He untangled their limbs and eased from the bed. It was time. As he stood, Sasha turned over and snuggled deeper into the covers.

“’K, be careful,” she mumbled and the garbled words were followed by a sigh. “Love you.”

Dray stilled. Was she awake? He’d thought her asleep. For several seconds he watched her chest rise and fall, counting the cadence to assure himself she was still asleep.

“I love you, Sasha.” Dray kissed her temple and pulled away as the strings that bound them resisted, struggling to hold him tight. He had to go, there was no choice. One more taste, one more touch—it would never be enough. He let the words come, feeling them rumble in his chest and beat at his soul.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispered. “I promise I’ll come back for you.”

*

The sun broke through her window, its light illuminating Sasha’s room. As the golden beams pierced the darkness, joy splintered her heart.

Dray was alive! She covered her mouth as a sob escaped, and then she reached back, desperate to touch him. But he wasn’t there.

As quickly as the elation evolved, it deflated. Had it all been a dream? She turned and found the other side of her bed empty. She lifted her hand, touching the pillow where his head had surely rested in the dark before the dawn.

That hand shook, the sun highlighting the small scars criss-crossing her mended fingers, and in that moment the pain was suffocating. They’d been through so much. She slid over, laying her head on the pillow she’d been reaching for, the smell of warm vanilla soothing her rage for the shortest second.

Oh yes. He’d been there and he’d left her. Again. She stayed in that spot, breathing in and out, determined to hold him the only way she could right then. Words bounced around in her mind, soft, insistent, but promising something he damn well better come through on. She closed her eyes, fury and fear commingling until she felt wetness leak onto her cheeks and fall to the pillow beneath her head.

“Damn you, Drayven Bonner. You better come back to me.” She put a hand on her abdomen. “You better come back to us.”

Charikar Province, Afghanistan

He moved through the darkness surrounding the ramshackle buildings with a stealth born from years of training. He was the shadows. As the harbinger of death for some unsuspecting soul this evening, he was ready to do his duty.

Three weeks had passed since he’d left his life. Three weeks since he’d given up everything in this quest for retribution. Others hunted, but they would never find him; only one had even a remote possibility of locating him, and he alone had nothing to fear from the man.

The prey tonight would receive no mercy. Having dispensed none, there would be none waiting on him at his end. No, his would be a long and painful death this night.

Silently, the shadow entered the prey’s domain and followed the dog’s trail to the back of the dwelling. There the harbinger found one of the primary sources of his agony: Aaqib el-Din, younger brother of Abdul Badee el-Din and son of Kashar bin el-Din.

Pestilence in its most heinous form. The man who had dared set a bounty on the harbinger’s life.
Sasha
. Her name whistled through his mind, a reminder of everything he wanted but could not have until his mission was complete.

He settled then, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

There in the bed before him, sleeping peacefully, was his prey. The harbinger pulled out his knife and began the bloodletting. Each scream was a symphony, and the harbinger realized a piece of him had fractured; maybe it was his mind. But it was acceptable because by the time dawn broke over the Hindu Kush, there were only three men left on the death-harbinger’s kill list.

The End

Lea Griffith began sneaking to read her mother’s romance novels at a young age. She cut her teeth on the greats: McNaught, Woodiwiss, and Garwood. A firm believer that love makes the world go round, she still consumes every romance book she can put her hands on, but now she writes her own.

Lea lives with her husband and three teenage daughters in rural Georgia. Two dogs, a cat, and a beta fish named Coddy George complete a family that is always in motion. When not working at the EDJ, she’s usually at her keyboard, using every spare second to write. Shifters, artificial intelligence, and gene splicing, oh my! Nothing is off-limits when it comes to her writing.