Down and Dirty: SEAL EXtreme Team Short Story (3 page)

He crossed his arms. Wow, he
had big guns, even bigger than Billy’s enormous biceps. “You asking me out,
sweetheart? As in a date?”

She lifted her chin. “What would
you say if I was?”

“I’d say, hell, yes! I’ve been
thinking about you a lot too.”

She couldn’t stop smiling. “So…
You’ll call me when you get home?”

“I’ll call you before then.”

“When?”

“How about in an hour?”

She leaned back in her desk
chair and hitched an eyebrow. “That long?”

He laughed. If she lived to be
a hundred, she’d never forget that deep, rolling sound. “Ten minutes?”

“Why do we have to hang up?”

“I like the way you think,
sweetheart. But you have to train, and I have to do…stuff.”

“Navy SEAL stuff you can’t
confirm or deny.”

“Exactly.”

They’d talked for two hours
that night and nearly every night after that. Billy complained that he’d lost
his sister to the ugliest guy on the SEAL team, but he said it with a smile.
For months Jill longed for the moment when she’d wrap her arms around both of
her favorite SEALs and maybe, just maybe, keep them home for good.

But that all ended the day a
buried IED killed Billy. She’d never hold him again and soon Nick would be gone
too.

****

Three days later, Jill was in a
private room sitting up in bed and staring out the window. It was sunny and seventy-five
degrees outside, complete with cottony white clouds and a teasing breeze. A perfect
day for a run or long-distance bike ride. But, oh yeah, she was a cripple. She
slammed her fist against the hospital’s mattress.

The doctor had said someone
would talk to her about a prosthetic. He’d claimed she’d be practicing with a
temporary artificial foot in a couple of weeks. There were about fifty models
to choose from, depending on her lifestyle. They had great prosthetics for swimming
and running. There was no reason why she couldn’t keep on doing the things she
normally did.

Whatever.

She might learn to gimp along
on a fake foot, but she’d never run the Ironman with the damned thing. She’d
seen athletes do remarkable things with prosthetics, but she doubted she’d ever
be a top athlete again. She didn’t have it in her. The will to run was gone. What
was she going to do? Running was her passion. Her life. It was the one thing she
could control when Mom and Dad died. And now that Billy was gone, running had
left her too? She turned her head away from the window.

“Knock, knock.” Nick filled her
doorway.

“Nick! You came back.”

“Of course I did.”

Holy cow, she didn’t realize
how tall he was until he ducked under the doorframe. Even in regular clothes he
was an extraordinary sight. A forest green T-shirt nicely hugged his pecs and
abs. Those faded blue jeans fit perfectly over…other things. Her heart beat a
little faster.

“Come in, handsome.” She was
ridiculously happy to see him.

His grin warmed her cheeks. “You
look fantastic. I brought you something.” He kept his eyes locked on hers as he
handed her a wrapped box.

“What’s this?”

“Inspiration. Open it.”

“Can you help me over to the chair
so I can sit up properly? I’m sick of this bed.”

“Sure.” He scooped her up in
his arms.

Whoa. She meant for him to help
her hop to the recliner. But this was nice and…strange. Normally, she preferred
doing things for herself. She didn’t lean on anyone. Still, this wasn’t half bad.
Clutching the box in one hand, she wrapped her other arm around his neck and
held on.

She was grateful she’d had the
forethought to change out of the butt-ugly hospital gown and into her cotton
hot-pink nightgown. It was scoop necked, clung to her in all the right places,
and was long enough to cover most of her stump. Plus, it didn’t have the
ever-present draft on the backside.

He gently placed her in the
recliner and popped out the leg rest for her. “You okay? Can I bring you a
blanket?”

Casting a quick glance toward her
stump, she nodded. She didn’t want to see the thing. He bounded over and pulled
the blanket off the bed.

He tucked the blanket around
her. “Open your present.”

“It’s not my birthday.” She
pulled the ribbon off and tore the flowered paper. Inside the box was a pair of
shoes with electric-blue racing stripes. She exhaled. “Running shoes?”

He must have heard the
frustration in her voice.  Crossing his tanned, muscular arms, he said, “Damned
straight. You’re going to need them for all the training I’ve planned for you. See
the flier in the bottom of the box?”

Pulling out the paper she read,
“Warrior Mud Run. Test your ability to run, crawl, jump, climb…” She looked up.
“Is this a joke?”

“No. It’s an obstacle course. Only
5K. Trust me, we can do this.”

“I’m not doing a mud run.”

“It’s no Ironman, but it could
be fun. You don’t have to be fast, hell, you can walk the whole damned thing,
but it’ll be a way to test yourself. Give you a goal to train for. And it’s a good
way to get back into the competition mode again. The big upside is we can do it
together. Want to get dirty with me, Connor?” He wiggled his dark eyebrows.

That would be a
YES!
or
more accurately, a
HELL, YES!
All sorts of ideas crept into her mind,
and none of them involved an obstacle course. “Listen, Nick. You think you’re
helping, trying to save me or something, but I don’t need your pity.”

He sat in the small chair with
wheels, scooting closer until his face was inches from hers. “You’re saying I’m
here out of pity?”

Why couldn’t she take her eyes
off his full lips? “You’ve got a hero complex thing. It won’t work on me. Why
don’t you go save some other crippled lady?”

“Shit, Connor.” He chuckled. “You
really are full of it. You’re worse than your brother was.”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me you are no quitter.”
The muscles in his jaw were tight, his gaze steely. Was he going into full lieutenant
commander mode on her? Well, she wasn’t one of his men. The battle here was
hers alone to face.

“I’m not quitting anything. Don’t
you get it? I lost my foot!” She flipped the covers back. He couldn’t see the
stump because the compression shrinker sock covered it, but she wanted him to
get the picture through his thick skull. This wasn’t a game. She was damaged
goods.

“And that makes you less of a
person?” Instead of squirming away from the horror, he touched her leg just
above her sock. “It was just a foot, Jill.” He massaged her calf muscle. “You
need to start thinking like a warrior.”

Warrior? She almost snorted. But
the way he touched her… “Oh, oh, wow, that feels… Oh, my God.” How did he know
how to do that? His strong fingers pressed into her sore, tight muscles. It was
heaven. She watched those incredible hands knead, squeeze, and rub up her
thigh. A thrill shot through her.
Stop thinking about his hands working other
places!

“Would you think less of me if
I’d lost my leg?” he asked.

“What?” she blinked. “No. Of
course, not.”

His hands stilled. Pulling the
blanket back over her, he tucked it around her legs. “You’re much more than a
foot, or a leg, Jill. You’re an amazing, beautiful woman. Don’t let anyone tell
you otherwise.”

Beautiful? Amazing?
He was one to talk.

“When you touch me, I feel...”
Sexy,
cared for, really, really sexy.
“…better. How do you do that?”

He ran his knuckle down her
cheek. The intensity in his eyes sucked her in, a moth to a flame. “You make
me
feel better too. Maybe you’re saving me. I need you, Jill. More than you know.”

She grabbed the front of his
green T-shirt and pulled. The wheels on his chair rolled into her recliner, and
her mouth was on his before she realized what had happened. Gently cupping her
jaw, he pressed his full lips to hers as if he’d been waiting to kiss her for
years. It was no pity kiss.

Nick did need her, but what was
she saving him from?

Nick deepened the kiss,
wanting, needing, so damned much. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he
wanted her. He’d been starving for her. As she wrapped her hands around the
back of his neck and pulled him closer, he realized she was starving too. He
ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened up for him, just as
she had opened her arms for him. How’d she know exactly what he needed?

He tasted, savored, and enjoyed
everything about Jill Connor. And for a moment, he let go. The guilt, pain,
terror, blood, all flowed away, and he became whole. Not a hero, not a warrior,
just a man kissing the woman he’d fantasized about for weeks. Jill Connor.
Hell, he would’ve given everything he owned to stay in that moment forever.

But fate enjoyed punching him
in the balls.

His ears started ringing, and
his vision tunneled. It was happening again. Before he could stop it, the
vision hit him like an IED from the past.

****

Nick was back in the passenger
seat of the Humvee, leaning out the window and returning enemy fire. Gunfire
blazed out of two trucks gaining on them. Sniper David Watson had his boot
pressed hard to the gas pedal while taking the occasional wild-assed shot with
his Sig 226.

Nick’s shots were missing altogether.
“Do you have to hit every pothole, Watson? You drive like my Granny Mo. It’s
pissing me off.”

“Not my fault this road is a
gonad smasher,” David complained. “I didn’t make it.”

“Just get us back in one
piece.”

“Copy that.”

Breacher Billy Connor covered
their six. He stood in the ring mount, getting the missile launcher ready. He
fired off a round of ammo and tossed a grenade. The grenade hit its mark and a
hostile’s vehicle caught fire behind them. “Hooyah! One down.”

“Nice. How about taking out the
other truck too? I’m sick of this shit.”

Billy laughed. “You’re just
hungry, Nick. You get grumpy when you haven’t eaten your Wheaties.”

They were returning from a
pre-sunrise scouting mission. Local HUMINT had said Taliban had moved back into
caves previously cleared by the Marines. Nick’s team had been asked to do a
little housecleaning and take out any trash that still remained. Everything had
been quiet in the caves. Apparently, human Intel had been mistaken, or it had
all been a set-up.  Sometimes it was tough to know the difference.

“I am hungry. Let’s bury these
turds.” Nick leaned way out the window, aimed for the truck driver, and took
his shot. By the grace of God, Watson didn’t hit a pothole, and the bullet was
dead on. The truck swerved and went off the road.

“And the last one bites the
dust,” Watson said. “I’ll slow down to stop jostling the junk—“

“Hole!” Nick pointed at a
big-ass Humvee-swallowing hole in the middle of the road.

“I see it.” Watson steered
around, going to the far left.

“No!” Nick registered the
mistake in slow motion. “Turn, turn, turn! It’s a trap—” He grabbed the
steering wheel, but it was too little, too late.

They drove right over a buried
IED. The fiery explosion lifted the Humvee off the ground and booted it into
the sky as if it were a plastic Tonka truck. The crash and rollover went on
forever. On the second complete 360 a thought flashed through Nick’s head—The
Only Easy Day Was Yesterday
.
Hell, why was the motto always true?

Nick blacked out.

He woke face down in the dirt
several feet from the Humvee. Everything was smoky, eerie, and silent. His ears
weren’t ringing—they were completely deaf. “Watson, Connor! Report!” he
screamed, blinking away the dirt and crap streaming out of his eyes.

He tried to get up, but his legs
didn’t want to work right. He crawled to the left, hands outstretched, feeling
for David Watson in the pieces of the wreckage. He found him. His sniper hadn’t
survived the crash.

“Son of a bitch!” He pounded the
ground with his fist and then stiffened when pain shot through his body. He was
hurt, how badly he didn’t know. He wouldn’t stop to find out. “Connor, where
are you, man? Report!”

There was no answer. Or maybe
his screwed up eardrums couldn’t hear the answer. He’d go with that. Nick
crawled, sucking in great gulps of dusty, smoky air, ignoring the edges of
darkness creeping into his vision. He couldn’t pass out. Billy needed him.

Humvee shit was strewn all over
the place. Nick pushed aside what he could and crawled around the larger
pieces, searching…searching. He was moving too slowly, but he couldn’t seem to
make his limbs go any faster. “Billy!”

And then Nick saw what he never
wanted to see. His best friend was buried underneath the engine block. Billy
was stone-cold still. That engine block was a heavy mother, but Nick’s heart
was heavier. Making it to his knees, he used every ounce of strength he had to
lift the metal. A torn-up mess was underneath. “Shit, Billy.”

Nick began CPR, pouring his
breath into his buddy’s lungs, forcing his heart to beat. It was no good, but
he refused to give up. The rescue teams would have to pull his hands off
Billy’s cold chest. “Live, damn you!”

Nick heard his own voice. The
explosion deafness was easing back. He gave two more quick breaths and Billy
sputtered.

“Hell…” Billy’s voice was weak,
but his green eyes sparkled. “Always knew you wanted to kiss me.”

Tears burned Nick’s eyes. “Shut
up! You need to rest. Another SEAL team is on the way.” He hoped.

“Watson?”

“Didn’t make it.”

“Crap. You’re hurt, Nick. Blood
all over you, man.”

“I’m okay.” He hurt all over,
but most of the blood wasn’t his. He sat down. Ripping the cravat off his neck,
he pressed it to a gaping wound in Billy’s side.

“We’re exposed. Leave me,
brother. I’m not going to make it.”

“Shut up!” Nick looked around
them. Billy was right. They were exposed. “That barn over there. We can make
it.”

“Not me. You go.” Billy’s face
was a strange, moldy-meat shade of gray.

“I’m not leaving you,” Nick
growled. “Get that out of your thick head.”

“Please, Nick. Go. But promise
me…” he wheezed, “…you’ll look after my sister. This is going to mess her up.
She loves me.”

“Don’t know why. You’re a real
pain in the ass. Stop this morbid shit so we can crawl to the barn for cover.”

Blood had soaked through the
cravat and was pooling into Nick’s cammies. This was FUBAR. His best friend
couldn’t die. He scooped Billy up and cradled him in his arms.

“Promise me.” Billy coughed.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll look after
your sister. No hardship there. Thank holy God she’s not as ugly as you are.”

Billy closed his eyes and let
his head fall back against Nick. “Hell, no. She got the good-looking genes.
Stubborn. Tough. Like you. Gonna be hard on her. Take care…of each other.”

Billy’s eyes didn’t open again.

Nick held on, closed his own
eyes, and let the darkness take him.

Gunshots woke him. Hostiles
were close. Too close. Was he going to die in this shithole? With one arm still
wrapped around Billy, he fired into the night. Hostiles returned fire, bullets
ringing off the Humvee’s engine block.

He battled on his own for
fifteen minutes, loading and reloading his guns, and then Billy’s. The whistle
of a launched missile cut the air. The explosion landed close to the barn. The
assholes had missed. He pulled the trigger one last time and heard the fatal silence.
Nick was out of ammo. Grabbing his knife, he was ready. They wouldn’t drag him
away without a fight.

“Come on, you bastards,” he
growled. “Try to take me.”

The hostiles fired again. This
time a rally of machine gun fire responded, and the battle escalated. Relief
flooded his chest.

“Hang on, Billy. The rescue team’s
here,” he whispered. But Billy didn’t move. He’d stopped breathing hours ago.

A huge explosion rocked the
night, shaking the ground beneath him. It was the biggest blast Nick had ever
experienced. The hostiles stopped shooting. No one could’ve survived.

“Hooyah! Willy’s Special got
those suckers!” One of the SEALs cheered.

A few minutes later, a SEAL stepped
out of the darkness and squatted before him. His blue eyes scoured Nick’s face.
“Lieutenant Commander Nick Talley
?”

Unsure of his voice, Nick
nodded.

“I’m Lieutenant Commander Mack
Riley. We’re here to take you home. Can you stand?”

Panic pounded through Nick’s
heart. “I won’t leave Billy.”

The other man’s eyes glanced at
the cold body Nick cradled in his arms. “You never left him. You did well,
Nick, fighting those bastards alone. But we need to get you out of here. Let
Billy go now. We’ll take good care of him. I promise.” He whistled softly.
“Tavon, a little help here.”

A massive SEAL with dark skin
scooped Billy’s body up as if he weighed ten pounds. “I’ve got him, brother.
He’s at peace. Your buddy’s going home.”

****

“Nick?” Jill pulled back. Her
eyes poured over his face. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, trying to get the
horror out of his eyes.

“Where’d you go?”

Shut it down, Talley!
You’re not there. Copy
that? You’re here with Jill, you jackass!

“What’s wrong, Nick? You’re
shaking.”

“Nothing.” He focused on her
beautiful face. “It was a flashback. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Hell, no. That was the worst
vision yet. “Yeah, fine.” He tried to chuckle. It came out like a honk.
Smooth,
Talley. Kiss her already.
“Come here, sweetheart.”

Concentrating on her lips, Nick
forced his mind to close off the memory. Mentally, he stomped it down with his
steel-toed boots.

She pressed her lips to his
cheek, gently, as if she thought she’d break him.

Screw that. He dove in,
devouring her lips, chin, jawline, as if kissing her was the only thing that
could save him. Maybe it was. A loud noise behind him made his nerves jump, but
he refused to look. Jill was all that mattered. Running his hands through her
full dark hair and down her back, he went on a relentless search to touch every
part of her, to know all the fine details. A high-pitched ringing began in his
ears, not unlike the squeal of a launched missile. He would have ignored it
completely, but his palms were wet. And sticky.

He broke the kiss and leapt to
his feet. “You’re bleeding!”

“I am? Where?”

He held out his hands. They
were shaking so badly that her blood rushed through his fingers onto the floor.
Buckets and buckets of it.

“Son of a bitch!” He leaned her
forward so he could see where she was injured. “Don’t move!”

Had he hurt her when he carried
her? Did her stitches rip open? Blood was everywhere. It clouded his eyes. The
metallic sweetness turned his stomach and brought back memories. Explosions.
Screaming. “Doctor! Nurse!”

“Nick! You’re scaring me.”

Scaring her? He was
ass-clenching terrified.

“Someone help!” He scooped her
up in his arms and ran out into the hallway. “I need help!”

A nurse ran toward him. “What’s
wrong?”

“She’s hemorrhaging. Do
something!” he yelled.

The nurse lifted Jill’s gown
and rolled down the sock. “It looks fine. The sutures aren’t broken. There’s no
blood.”

“Are you blind? It’s
everywhere. Her back, chest, dripping down her face.” He was starting to worry
that all her blood would make his arms slick. He didn’t want to drop her, or
the hostiles might steal her away. He’d kill those bastards. They couldn’t have
his girl. He swayed.

“Sir, are you okay?” the nurse
said. “Orderly! We need help here.”

“Nick…” Jill said softly. “You
need to put me down.”

“I can’t! You’re hurt. The IED
exploded! Don’t you remember?” He blinked. His mind was spinning. “I mean…car accident.
You’re hurt,” he repeated.

“It’s okay, Nick. You’re going
to be okay.” Her beautiful face was twisted in an odd expression of horror and
sadness.

The lights in the hallway were
very bright. He could see clearly now. Jill’s nightgown was pink, not red. It
was dry.

“Put the patient down, sir. We
don’t want any trouble here,” the nurse said firmly.