Fearless: Complicated Creatures Part Three (6 page)

“Rush and Talon are here. They wouldn’t leave your side, even if I ordered them to,” Carey told her with the ghost of a smile. “The rest of the team are back in London and Chicago.”

“Did anyone else get hurt?”

“No,” he shook his head. “The boys did good, Sammy.”

Drowsy. She could feel herself slipping back into the deep shroud of sleep.

“Love you, Sammy.”

She smiled softly. “Love you too, Bear,” she whispered, falling asleep.

*

December—Mid-Morning

Asklepios Klinik Barmbek, Hamburg, Germany

W E S L E Y

“You alright?” Evan
Rush asked him as Wes paced the hospital waiting room like a caged animal.

“No, I’m not fucking alright,” Wes answered, pushing his hands through his hair before lacing his fingers behind his neck as he shot Evan an aggrieved look. “I haven’t seen Sammy in over a dozen years and the first time is in a hospital in Rio. She’s been shot, stabbed, and fucking resuscitated more times than the goddamn Bride of Frankenstein. Are you kidding me—
am I alright?”

Evan nodded, looking away.

In all of Wes’s years of accumulated experiences across ravaged war zones, witnessing genocides, and an array of horrifying human travesties in conflict-ridden countries, watching the love of his life struggling to survive on the flight from Afghanistan was the very worst of it. Because in his foolish optimism, he assumed he’d always have a chance to make things right with her. He’d always banked on seeing Sammy again, when the time was right for both of them, because he’d never doubted they’d end up together, regardless of the passing time and the distance between them. Wes had always known he’d find his way back to her, as certain now as he was then that she would be the only woman he’d ever love.

Wes realized now how tenuous that thread of hope really was when the medical team on the jet had to punch hundreds of joules through Sammy’s heart with defibrillator pads, to get her heart to start beating again. All his dreams, all his plans, hung in the balance in those horrible, breathless seconds until her heart started beating on its own again. The faith he’d always had in their interwoven destinies nearly slipped from his grasp, again and again in a handful of hours.

When Wes arrived at the hospital, he could tell immediately it’d been a rough night. He could see it all over Carey’s, Rush’s, and Talon’s faces.

“I shouldn’t have left,” he muttered moodily as he paced the waiting room floor like a caged animal.

“What would you have done, Wes?” Evan challenged as Talon sat down next to him, handing him a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’d just have driven yourself nuts and us in the process,” Talon added. “It’s better you weren’t here.”

Wes pushed his hands through his hair. “So what’s her status now?”

Evan glanced at Talon briefly as some unspoken communication passed between them like a current. “She was touch-and-go,” he admitted. “But the doctors don’t think she’ll need another surgery.”

Wes squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit.”

“Carey’s in there with her now while the doctors check her out,” Evan went on, sipping his coffee.

“Can I see her?”

Evan was just about to answer when the sliding glass doors to the waiting room came open. All three of them looked up at the tall, black-haired man who stopped at the threshold, eyes scanning the waiting room.

Wes stiffened in shock as their eyes clashed.

“I don’t believe it.” The guy he was staring at was fifteen years older than the man he remembered and had the layers-deep tan and squint lines of a man who’d spent years in the desert, but Wes recognized him immediately.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Texas A&M’s worst bartender,” Alejandro de Soto drawled as he strode forward and came to a stop just a few feet away from Wes and the guys. He lazily brushed the snow off the sleeves of his old leather jacket as he considered Wes with the same smirk he’d had way back when they’d been in college together.

Talon and Evan exchanged glances in askance, clearly confused.

“Better than being A&M’s biggest asshole,” Wes replied, bemused.

“Can’t argue that.” Alejandro shrugged before extending his hand. “So you and Wyatt are still together after all this time?” he asked as they shook hands. “Got to admit, I’m surprised. I never thought you’d stick around, Elliott.”

The casual jab sliced a lot deeper than it should have. “And I never thought I’d see you again after you graduated, ranking No. 2 behind her,” Wes answered smoothly, careful not to keep the sting out of his voice. A guy like de Soto lived for the upper hand. No way would Wes give him the satisfaction. Not after all this time.

But what the hell was he doing here?

In all his years, Wes’d never expected to see de Soto again. The guy had been Sam’s nemesis through most of undergrad, the two of them at each other’s throats as they vied for the top spot in A&M’s notoriously difficult ROTC program. They’d thrown down more than once from what Wes recollected. At one point, he’d been certain they would literally kill each other.

Alejandro surprised him by smirking, humor in his pitch-black eyes as he turned his attention to Evan Rush and Lee Talon. “You two must be her guard dogs.”

Evan, so typically easygoing and laid-back, had been simmering for days over a low flame. The mission to kill Ibrahim Nazar, Sam’s ensuing injuries, and his unwillingness to leave her side had culminated into a crucible of angry stress that was just begging for release. And to say that de Soto had a gift for rubbing people the wrong way was putting it lightly. Evan rose to the bait, immediately stepping forward, antagonism coming off of him waves.

“Who’s asking?”

De Soto cocked a brow. “The guy who’s here to do what you two couldn’t.”

Talon made a sound, moving close enough to bump chests with de Soto. “The fuck does that mean?”

“Just what I said,” de Soto replied as they stared each other down. “I’m here to do what you Navy squid punk asses couldn’t. I’m here to protect Sam.”

December—Mid-Morning

Asklepios Klinik Barmbek, Hamburg, Germany

S A M A N T H A

“I
went into
shock?” Sam asked after the surgeon left. They were running some additional tests and wanted to keep her in ICU for another day, but things were looking marginally better.

Carey nodded grimly, his lips compressed into a frown bracketed by stress lines. “That’s three times you’ve had to be de-fibbed in two days, Sammy. I swear to God, it’s like you’re trying to give me a heart attack too.”

She gripped his hand tightly. “I’m sorry I scared you, Bear.”

He closed his red-rimmed eyes. “You scared the shit outta Jack.”

“He was here?” she asked, confused. She was pretty groggy from the pain meds, but she had no recollection of Jack being there.

Carey nodded, a flash of something crossing his face. Guilt? Remorse?

Sam squeezed his hand. “What is it?”

“Nothing that can’t wait. Jack isn’t here anymore, but he left something for you. And Wes is outside.”

She blinked. “
Seriously?”

Carey just chuckled tiredly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Other than Jack and Wes, you got any other crazy ex-boyfriends who won’t take no for an answer?”

“You know what’s so ironic?” Sam mumbled. “Time was when I was young, I would have done nearly anything for the love of a good man.”

“Guess you’re extra-lucky then ’cause you’ve got the love of several good men, and they’re all standing outside waiting to see you,” he responded with a smile.

A knock sounded, and Carey glanced up at the doorway, his mouth turning down as he stood, his stance protective.

“I tried to stop him, but he says he knows Sam—” she heard Rush say, his voice unusually strident and accusatory as a tall guy stopped by her bedside, peering down at her with eyes of jet black.

Samantha blinked as her pupils dilated and focused. She could have sworn he looked just like Alejandro de Soto…
no
, couldn’t be.

“I’m on some good shit,” she slurred, certain she was hallucinating. “You look just like an asshole I was in the Corp with.”
And
once-enemy from her days as a cadet. He was older now and more chiseled, his handsome face lined with character. He could sand the paint off a barn with his five o’clock shadow, and he had the kind of deep tan that looked like he’d been steeped in the sun.

“You look like shit, Wyatt,” Alejandro’s apparition told her as he leaned against the railing. “Must be slacking off if you let an old bastard like Nazar get the jump on you.”

“Don’t talk to Sam like that,” Carey snapped, protective. “Who the hell are you?”

“Friend of hers from way back,” Alejo replied, not bothering to look at him.

Carey cocked his head. “She called you an asshole.”

“That’s because he is an asshole,” Wes interrupted, moving closer to the bed. He edged Alejo out of the way, taking his place as he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Welcome back, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice tender. “You sure know how to scare the hell out of a guy.”

“Wes?” Sam managed to get out. “All my ghosts are together in one room,” she rasped, trying to wrap her head around everything. Never in her life did she think she’d see Wes and Alejandro standing side-by-side again after all these years.

“You better tell us who you are right now,” Carey told Alejandro, bristling.

He looked at Carey calmly. “My name’s Alejandro de Soto. I’m with the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment out of Fort Bragg, but I’ve been stationed in the Middle East for the past few years.”

“Delta Force,” Carey said, putting two and two together. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“And we don’t give a good goddamn who you are or what Army outfit you’re with,” Talon said, stepping in. “You need to get your ass back to the sandbox. No one asked you here.”

“Yeah?” Alejo smirked, the sardonic twist of his lips and the insolent way he looked Rush and Talon over making them bristle with tension and pent-up hostility. “Make me.”

Talon and Rush moved forward at the same time, and Carey stuck a broad arm out, blocking them.

“De Soto?” Carey cocked his head in askance. “You’re Rox’s older brother?”

“Is Roxy okay?” Sam struggled to sit up, but pain sliced through her.

“She’s fine,” Alejo assured her, pressing her back. “Roxy sent me, Sam. She asked me to protect you.”

“From who?” Wes asked, his hand tightening around hers.

She saw the gravity in Alejandro’s pitch-dark eyes. Knew he was serious. “Lucien Lightner escaped yesterday, and we know he has some unfinished business with you. We need to get you out of here.”

“How do you know he’s coming here?” Carey asked, stepping forward.

“Because Sam and Jack Roman have taken everything away from him. And you know what happens to desperate, ruthless men when they get backed into corners,” Alejo replied. “He gets the perfect ‘buy one, get one free’ deal if you’re both in the same place, doesn’t he?”

“He could be going to ground,” Carey pointed out. “It’s too hot for him to take any chances after the bombing.”

“That a risk you’re willing to take?”

Worry was etched across Carey, Rush, and Talon’s faces. Wes squeezed her hand, instinctively moving closer.

She was groggy from the drugs and half-delirious with the pain, but Sam knew what had to be done. She didn’t have the strength yet to do it herself… she needed all the help she could get right now. And for a woman who prided herself on being independent, that was saying something. She could move her feet, but barely; her legs felt like lead, and her back burned as if Nazar had taken a hack saw to it.

“He stays,” Sam told her team. “If Rox sent him, she had reason to. So he stays.”

Alejo lifted an insolent brow as Rush and Talon glared at him.

Seeking to diffuse the tension, Sam lifted her hand. “Rush, come here.”

He came to her side immediately, leaning over the bed, his face lined from worry and fatigue. She clasped his hand, holding it tightly. “You saved my life—more than once.”

Rush squeezed her hand, emotion bright in his eyes. “I’ve always got your back, boss.”