Diablo Blanco Club 2, Under Control (8 page)

Bring her back, you son of a bitch!”

The burn of the knife against his throat didn’t stop his struggles. He felt the heat of his
own blood spilling from the slice made by the blade, and it only made him more determined to
break free. Snapping his head back, he smashed the bridge of one captor’s nose, wrestled loose
from the man’s weakened hold, and twisted the wrist of the second man holding the knife. He
heard the crack of bone and the man’s scream as Vance gained control of the KA-BAR. He buried
the knife to the hilt between the second man’s third and fourth ribs. Vance shoved the dead man
aside and stumbled for the door. “Aimee!”

“No! Vance!” Aimee’s screams were silenced by an explosion just beyond the doorway.

Vance woke, his breath frozen in his lungs. He remained in place with his body still, listening to the sounds around him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and counted to ten before opening them. The darkness was different from the murky shadows of his dreams. Vance waited. The guilt was there. As he sifted back through the dream, Vance recognized the sensations of triumph and satisfaction he‟d experienced when Aimee climaxed as being similar to the feelings he‟d had when Ben came. The memory shattered the calm he‟d gained.

But how could that be right? His time with Ben had been mutual and consensual, so his feelings of contentment made sense. That hadn‟t been true with Aimee. So why had the same emotions that came to life with Ben been stirred with her as well? How could the control he‟d surrendered to the man he loved mirror his loss of control with Aimee and still be a good thing?

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Vance shook his head, more confused than he‟d been the night before when Ben stepped into the room, but he wasn‟t sure if the bafflement stemmed from the feelings churning inside him or the lassitude his orgasms had generated.

Moving past that thought, Vance took a moment to focus and fully wake up.

Unsure if he was still dreaming about regaining control or if it had really happened, he took stock of his surroundings.

There were things different from his usual nightmares. A soft, comfortable bed cushioned him rather than the rock-and-sand floor of the hut. Silk sheets covered his nude frame. Even the aches he felt were altered, better. The warm body wrapped close to him helped to push the nightmare away and brought back pleasing memories of the previous evening.

Ben.

Vance relaxed into the pillows and closed his eyes as he savored the feel of Ben in his arms. The smell of sex with the faint antiseptic scent he‟d always associated with the man beside him had Vance smiling in the darkened room. Shifting slightly, he eased his arm from beneath Ben‟s head without waking him. As he lay on his side with his upper body propped up on his elbow, he watched his friend sleep, enjoying the quiet moment before reality set in.

His morning wood made its wants known, but Vance ignored the demand. His desire, his need, was back, but with Ben‟s help, his ability to exert control had returned as well. Waking Ben for another bout of lovemaking wasn‟t going to get him any further in his plan. The ache in his left wrist and hip as well as along the bottoms of his feet only emphasized what he had to face. Through the gap in the heavy black suede draperies, he could see the first hint of sunlight. The watch Ben had left on the nightstand only made him curse beneath his breath. It was later than he‟d thought.

Damn, he wanted to stay. Needed to stay. He was sure Ben would have no problem cutting through the tangle of thoughts clogging his head, but it would have to Diablo Blanco Club: Under Control

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wait. Vance closed his eyes and leaned down, warming himself with the heat radiating from Ben‟s body.

He needed more time. He should have met with his CO before he left for San Diablo, but Vance hadn‟t been able to wait, hadn‟t been able to stay away from Ben a day longer. Now he had to leave and didn‟t want to.

Suck it up, soldier. You have a mission to complete.

Untangling his legs from Ben‟s, making sure not to wake him, Vance eased from the bed and gathered his clothing. He needed to stop by his apartment before heading for the base, and since both were nearly an hour north of town, he needed to leave now if he was going to make the appointment he‟d set with his CO.

It still pulled at his mind, the similarities between the feelings generated when he‟d taken Aimee and those he‟d shared with Ben the night before. Could they be a warning, a hint that he shouldn‟t count on the control he‟d regained?

He knew his strength, his capabilities, and the thought of losing control, of not maintaining hold of his emotions, his temper, and using them against someone he loved… He shuddered.

“Won‟t happen,” he tried to reassure himself.

But you did before.

Refusing to allow himself to dwell on that memory, Vance scanned the room one last time to make sure he hadn‟t left anything. Not trusting himself to keep from waking Ben, Vance hesitated near the door. His gazed fixed on the quiet rise and fall of Ben‟s chest. He couldn‟t help but grin at his mussed blond hair. It stuck up in spikes or was pressed flat to his skull, making Vance‟s fingers itch to smooth it out.

He shifted his feet, debating taking the few steps that would carry him to the bed when the watch on his wrist vibrated reminding him what little time he had left.

“
Tell him
,” Aimee‟s voice whispered in his mind.

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He ignored her and turned to the table beside the door. With the memory of Aimee chiding him, he scribbled a quick note to Ben before slipping out of the room and down to his truck.

Ben rolled over. His arm reached for his lover but found Vance‟s side of the mattress cold and empty. Easing onto his elbows, he glanced toward the windows. The sun had crested the horizon while he slept. He groaned at the bright sunlight snaking through the narrow opening between the suede panels and across the floor toward the bed. His groan only increased in volume as he flopped back onto the pillows and rummaged on the nightstand, searching for his abandoned watch. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut in denial of the morning.

Glancing at the watch, he cursed at the time and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He headed for the open door of the bathroom. “Damn, V, why didn‟t you wake—” His complaint echoed in the empty room.

It only took him a few minutes to use the toilet and wash his hands, but in that time, Ben scanned the area around him and the room beyond. The towels from the previous night were neatly folded and stacked for the housekeeper to collect. Back in the bedroom, as he tugged on his boxers, slacks, and shirt, he shook his head, trying to ease the knot at the base of his skull. The tension made his movements harsh and jerky.

He sensed there was more to Vance‟s absence than any “morning after” nerves.

The whip and cuffs were set inside the designated container for cleaning. Nothing of Vance‟s remained behind. He‟d even taken the half-empty bottle of scotch with him.

Trepidation raised the hair on the back of Ben‟s neck as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed, first the other man‟s apartment and then his cell. There was no answer at either.

The
beep
of his watch brought another profanity to his lips as he headed for the door. He didn‟t have time to waste. His shift at the hospital was due to begin in just over an hour, and he had to get ready.

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Beneath the key on the table beside the door, he spotted a folded piece of paper with his name scrawled on it. Picking it up, he pocketed the key and read the contents of the letter. The crisp, neat lettering confirmed that Vance wrote the note, but the words inside had his belly clenching in disbelief.

Ben,

Had to check in at Camp P. Meeting with CO.

Despite whatever happens, I want you to know I don’t regret what happened between us
last night.

I hate that I caused her pain, but I made a promise to her.

I love you,

Vance

“Son of a bitch!” Ben reread the note. He couldn‟t figure out what the hell Vance was trying to get at, but he suspected he wasn‟t going to like the results. Even after a fourth time through, the only conclusion he could come to was the frightening thought that the note was some kind of final good-bye message. Who “she” was, he…

The safe word floated into his mind.
Aimee
. But who was Aimee?

Halfway down the steps, he stopped as the image of curly red hair and wide china blue eyes popped into his head. Was it possible Vance was talking about
their
Aimee when he mentioned keeping a promise to “her” and the pain he caused her? But how could a twelve year old missionaries‟ daughter they‟d befriended on their unit‟s first mission on foreign soil have anything to do with Vance‟s behavior last night? Aimee had sent him a brief letter just last year, but nothing since. And Vance‟s note this morning? Hell, Ben didn‟t even know where the girl was, so how could Vance…

A quick calculation would put Aimeelya Kirk‟s age at around nineteen or twenty.

Old enough to catch the eye of a man, even one who enjoyed both men and women like Vance did. But when would Vance have met her again? It was possible, considering Aimee‟s parents served their mission in some of the politically unstable countries in the Middle East, Vance could have run into her there. But how could he have hurt her?

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Vance was the least likely person Ben knew to ever inflict harm on someone weaker than him, especially a woman or a child. There had to be answers. He just needed Vance to pick up his fucking phone so he could get them.

A million questions whispered through Ben‟s mind as he continued down the rear staircase reserved for staff use only. He returned the keys to room three to the locked cabinet behind the bar and made his way out the back to his SUV. Beneath his breath, he swore again once he saw the time. As much as he‟d like to find the hardheaded bastard, tracking down Vance‟s whereabouts was going to have to wait.

The trip back to base had helped him clear his mind. He‟d been reluctant to leave Ben‟s side when he woke. As he drove, Vance relived the soothing feel of his friend‟s arm around his waist, and the wash of Ben‟s breath over his shoulder and along his neck had been arousing. Regret at not allowing himself another leisurely bout of sex rippled through Vance, but this morning he‟d known it wouldn‟t get him any further in his plans. Now, as he headed back toward San Diablo, he wondered if last night would be all he‟d have to remember.

Though he‟d forced himself to ease out of his lover‟s hold, re-dress in his slacks and shirt, and leave, a part of Vance had wanted to stay behind. He ached to ignore the task he‟d completed in his CO‟s office, but with that step taken, the second thing he had to do had knots forming in his belly. It was becoming more difficult to face with every mile he put beneath his wheels. He‟d rather be losing himself in the feel and taste of Ben. But he couldn‟t. He wouldn‟t. Not yet.

The green jacket and khaki shirt and tie of his uniform were neatly laid out across the backseat. He‟d stripped out of them at a turnoff after leaving the base, which left him wearing only his olive green T-shirt and pants. When he bypassed the exit for his apartment, he knew a change of clothes was going to have to wait. Getting back to Ben came first. The catch of the inseam of his uniform slacks on the ankle holster as he shifted his foot on the gas pedal had his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

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The gun was a familiar weight, something he‟d grown used to while serving overseas, but its purpose was no longer necessary. Pulling down an off-ramp, he slowed and entered a gas station. Removing the gun from its holster, he locked it in the center storage space between the bucket seats of his truck and climbed out. On autopilot, he slid his credit card into the reader, removed the gas cap, and fit the nozzle in place. Leaning against the sun-baked metal of his truck, he watched the sun hover on the ocean‟s edge and wondered what the hell he was going to do next for a job.

* * * * *

After reaching the office of his commanding officer, Vance had spent little time discussing his decision to resign.

“The offer still stands, Justiss.” His CO had tapped his fingers against the forms in front of him. “Coronado or Lejeune could use a man with your skills and background.”

“Understood, sir, and I appreciate the suggestion, but I think it‟s time I start looking toward the future.”
A future with Ben in it,
if he’ll have me.

A medical retirement had been inevitable. If he hadn‟t offered it voluntarily, he‟d only have had to deal with a forced discharge once he‟d gone through the rest of his rehab therapy and failed his fitness tests. His particular skills—languages, tactics, and infiltration—were needed, but not when they came with a bum leg and reduced strength and dexterity in his dominant hand. The shrapnel had done a number on the muscles and nerves in both.

A post as an instructor for Marine Force Recon had been mentioned while he‟d been recovering, but he wanted more.

Now that it had been presented, Vance had no difficulty turning 58

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down the offer of a position as an instructor, knowing that a big part of his new life was going to include Ben. Denying what he felt for the other man was tantamount to breaking his word to Aimee.

And that he wasn‟t going to do.

“Well”—the officer rose and offered his hand—“you will be missed, Gunnery Sergeant.”

“Thank you, sir.” Vance had taken the proffered hand, confident in the knowledge that whatever came next, he could face it as long as he had Ben beside him.

* * * * *

The trigger on the gas pump snapped off with a hollow, metallic
thunk
, drawing him out of his thoughts. Vance went through the motions of returning the nozzle, collecting his receipt, and twisting the cap back into place before he climbed back into his truck. Unlocking the center console, he placed the gas receipt on top of the .38 and locked the compartment. He was still another thirty minutes from Ben‟s house, but the clock on the dash assured him that his friend should be off his shift at the hospital by the time he arrived. Maybe Vance would know what he was going to say to him by the time he got there.