Blind Rage: Team Red, Book 4 (26 page)

****************

Damn, I was sore. Not that this insignificant detail kept us from exploring every inch of each other’s bodies over a deliciously decadent weekend. Thankfully, Bas’ definition of sex didn’t mean bed play had to end in intercourse. I’d only managed to accept the full length of him once more, last night, after some of my initial tenderness dissipated.

Holy hell! I could get used to this, to him—all ten and seven-eighths inches of him. He’d lied, I knew he had. Overruling Bas’ protests, I convinced a confused bellman to find a measuring tape so I could challenge Bastian’s “I’m ten inches” declaration. He may have been ten inches when he and Sherry Dangerfield, the hussy, had measured his teenage erection, but the subsequent years had enhanced the number. Considerably.

“Happy Birthday, Bastian,” I greeted, rolling over to face him in the huge bed we’d left only a half-dozen times in the past two days; long enough for meals and showers.

“Thank you, Babe.” Bas leaned forward, honoring the Cardinal Rule of Morning Kisses, with a sweet kiss. “So have you decided if you’ll keep your old, beat up ride? Or do you plan to threaten me with return policies?”

Smiling, I ran a loving hand over the scruffy hair line accenting his jaw. “No threats. No returns. This customer is one-hundred-percent satisfied with her purchase. I can certainly understand how you earned the nick name, Player, Bastian. Good god, you have stamina!”

He chuckled at my light-hearted teasing, “The men decided on a replacement for my old call name.”

“Yeah, I remember. During the rescue, on the radio, you referred to yourself as Rock,”

“Rock was Russ’ idea, although, the guys jokingly call me that when we work out, because of my size. But, I’ve got a reputation for staying calm and rock solid in a crisis, which was Russ’ justification for the name. Frost told him how my old unit used to set me up to try and make me lose my cool when we were on training exercises.”

I snorted, in disagreement. “You weren’t so cool during the rescue, hot shot. Between the loudness of the gunshot in my ear, and you yelling at me to ‘stay down,’ I was a nervous wreck,” I admitted, recalling the intensity of moment.

Bas was silent. “Hold on a sec, Babe. I want to check something.” Bas scrambled out of the bed, and moments later, I heard the unmistakable sound of his laptop booting up. Did I forget to mention Bas carries a laptop like some people carry a cell phone? He’d only checked it twice in the last two days, so I can’t complain.

It took a few minutes, but I soon heard the audio feedback of the rescue. After replaying a select portion, three times, Bas said, “Teresa, I never said anything as I came through the door. I never yelled at you.”

“Yes you did, Bas. I heard you clearly,” I argued.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am,” I snapped, belatedly realizing he hadn’t voiced the question aloud. Crap!

“Well, Babe. That answers Gil’s question. It appears you aren’t limited to mental conversations with Red.”

Oh man. It was insane enough hearing Red’s unfiltered thoughts… this man’s raw dialog presented a whole array of trouble.

Bastian’s chuckle was positively evil as he slipped back into bed. “Oh, Babe. This is going to be so much fun.”

Epilogue

** 09:15, Saturday—Feb 2nd **

Along with Cora Sanders, the hospice nurse, Janey and Tara have taken over much of Marcia’s immediate care. Jason comes most evenings to read chapters from Peter Pan to Wes and his mom. His playful rendition of the classic story has all of us spellbound during the dramatic parts, and laughing along when the story turns whimsical. My friends have really come through to help make Marcia’s last weeks more comfortable. She’s fading fast, but trying to hold on until Wes’ birthday on the 10
th
.

The Fosters were happy to accept the offer Bastian made for their property, and moved out within two weeks. Turns out they had been contemplating a move to Sun City, Arizona to join their friends who’d relocated to the retirement community last summer. David likes the house and plans to live there once Marcia is gone—for now, we agreed his wife will get the best care if we don’t move her. In the interim, the Wild Horse team will work on enhancements to add security to the existing structure.

Progress on the Compound is coming along quickly, thanks to more good weather and the combat engineers. Russ thinks the structure will be complete by the end of March and has started weeding through the stack of applications from Mustangs who want to relocate to Spokane. I was happy to hear eight women have been selected. We need more diversity. Russ tells me one of the women may be a good candidate for the Team Red detail, filling Henry’s spot, to free the older man up to coordinate the Team’s jobs. Frankly, I think Russ wants to exploit Henry’s talent for acquisition of hard to find items. Sneaky Russ.

Bastian, and the PreClan installation contingent, left a few days ago to perform the first integration of the new program. I miss having him in bed beside me each night. The nightmares had almost disappeared before he left, but they were back now with brutal vengeance. Jim thinks I should tell him, but there’s nothing Bas can do from the east coast, so what’s the point? Jim reminded me ‘the point’ was, I’d want to know if it was Bas having nightmares, right? Damn psychologists, always maneuvering us to come to their conclusions. So, yeah, tonight I’ll tell Bas. He won’t be able to ease me through the night, but it’s a burden shared. I’d want to know. Teresa: 0, Annoying Shrink: 1002. But who’s counting?

As he had after my attack last November, Red dragged his bedding up the stairs, this time beside my bed instead of outside my door, in the hallway. I think he was tasked to watch over me until Bastian returned. After a particularly bad nightmare woke me in gasping panic, I was assured by the warm, heavy weight of my faithful dog, who’d jumped up onto the bed to offer solace in the form of warm breath and gentle nudges at my neck.

Bastian left for the east coast before we had an opportunity to explore the few words we’d shared via mind-speak. We haven’t mentioned it to anyone, yet. For now, we’ll keep it to ourselves.

Speaking of Bas-hole, for two days after our return from paradise, also known as the Davenport Hotel, I was the recipient of many a snicker and sideways glance. Janey is the one who finally spilled the beans, laughing like a demented hyena the whole time. It seems Bas went into town the day we returned from our getaway, to get a few tattoos. Yep, plural. While the marks of my fingernails were still fresh on his back and arms, he’s sat under a needle while a tattoo artist etched every scratch and nail indent mark permanently into his flesh. From what Janey tells me, it elicited quite a few catcalls and congratulatory pats on the back the first time he’d peeled off his shirt for a work out. David was not amused. Frost, ever stoic, reminded the older man he was waiting in the wings if Bas was stupid enough to let me go. Still my favorite guard!

My relationship with David is a work in progress, but I have hopes we can forge a new kind of friendship. After our conversation in the upstairs office, I made an attempt to return the jewelry, engagement ring included, still in its satin bag. David declined, saying they were mine to do whatever I wanted with. For a number of reasons, I’m not comfortable wearing any of it. My current plan is to donate the items to Blind Sighted with the hope that Carley can use the funds to provide seeing-eye dogs for some who might not be able to afford it otherwise.

Wes has a call name now: Tracker. Gil has been teaching the boy how to follow trails in the woods. From what Red tells me, he’s pretty good—hence the nick name. Why couldn’t they have given me a cool name? Bitter? Maybe a little, I mean, Mole? Really?

Team Red & Wild Horse Security

You may remember, back in Chapter 10, I decided to ask Frost for a list of Mustangs and their alternate names. I thought you might appreciate a peek a
t
what he gave me. Enjoy! Teresa.

Wild Horse Security Owners/Admin/Misc.:

Russell Thomas, owner
–
crafty motherfucker- don’t underestimate him.

Gwyn Thomas
, arguably, the real boss?  (One-Shot) -
don’t judge this book by her cover! Marine Scout Sniper (only woman I know who went thru program). Missions classified.

Doctor James Pettifer
, MD, PsyD (Doc, Jim)
–
nice guy, good doc. Saved lots of Mustang lives.

Adam Fairview
, Project Coordinator SD Office (Bogie) –
focused. Unemotional decision-maker. Mean game of golf.

Team Red Security detail:

Henry Witherspoon
—employed by Team Red (Jeeves) –
dude can find anything. Resourceful.

Eddie Little Bear
(Spook) –
I swear the guy is related to David Copperfield. One minute you’re alone, next minute he’s sitting in a chair beside you.

Fritz Lieb
(Lover) –
always designated driver. Ironically, never seen him with a woman (or man).

(Unknown) Rodgers
(Dex, Dexter) –
Glad this guy’s on our side. Likes his cutlery, especially his K-bar.

Jaspar Fielding
(Jazz)
– ex-MMA fighter. Can take a guy down with one punch. Has a soft spot for a certain klutzy policewoman.

Frost
(Frost, Iceman) –
not fucking Chris. Not fucking Christopher, just Frost. I wanna be Bas when I grow up.

PreClan Security Detail:

Hunter Blackman
(Big Byte) –
stays to himself or hangs with Gregg. Don’t ask, don’t tell?

Gregg LaValley
(Little Bit) –
hangs with Hunter. Ditto on asking and telling.

Dean Dawson
(Double D) –
his motto: It’s not the size of the rack… oh, wait, yes it is.

Jose Sanchez
(Swallow) –
not what you think! Dude’s got a homing instinct like those Capistrano swallows. Got us out of a lot of tight places with his ability to find his way back to base.

Zach Lee
(Sensei) –
Wild Horse martial arts instructor, Says he’s a distant cousin of Bruce Lee, but I think that’s horseshit.

Quentin Marcus
(Thud) –
boxer. Hell of a right hook. When he’s in the ring, all you hear is the thud of bodies hitting the canvas. Jazz can take him, but only because Jazz fights dirty.

PreClan Software Trainees:

Larry Andrews
(Crooner) –
homely little fucker, but has a smooth R&B singing voice.

Mike James
(Beau) –
keep your girlfriends away from this pretty boy pervert. Love ‘em and leave ‘em.

Barney Kirsch
(DB, Deep Blue) –
guy’s got a knack for puzzles and cryptology. Called Deep Blue, same as the chess super-computer.

Steve Middleton
(Joker) –
asshole. If you get pranked, this bastard is behind it.

Lenny Shapiro
(Ralph) –
should have called him upchuck. Everything makes him sick.

Brian Thetford
(Brain) –
personally? Would have called him bra- most times he only uses half a brain.

Coming Winter 2014

The Urban Fantasy Novel

Posse

I’ve lived through countless years and thousands of ages. I’ve led men to war, and been the cause of a few. I am a warrior, politician, mother of kings, and tiger shape-shifter. As the last of my line, and one of the strongest amongst the supernaturals, I lead a posse of paranormal warriors. We have become the judge, jury, and executioners for our society. If you turn rogue, mine will be the last face you see.

You know my names and have heard tales of my bravery, ferocity, passion, and strength, but you don’t know the real stories—after all, history has been written by men who paint the accomplishments of women with a tainted brush. I have been called by many names, one of the first was Boudicca.

Coming Spring 2015:

Blind-Sided

Team Red – Book 5