Page 20 of Duty Bound

In the east, the horizon shimmered with an electric blue glow. They were almost out of time. “I can’t?—”

Her legs gave way.

He moved quickly, so quickly she didn’t realize what was happening. Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. I can carry you.” His dark eyes softened with concern, like the sky.

God.

It was easier hating him.

He scooped her into his arms.

With every step toward the cabin, she felt his heart beating, firm and steady. He smelled good too, like a man. Like Joe smelled when he got back from a day at the base. It had been so long since she’d smelled that manly scent that she inhaled deeply, savoring it. As they gained more ground, her mind grew groggy. Before she knew it, she’d lapsed into an exhausted sleep.

CHAPTER 8

Blade knew the instant Lily fell asleep.

Her body went limp, and her head relaxed against his arm. He glanced down and for the first time, took a long, hard look at the woman he'd rescued. The anger on her face softened in the warm hues of the rosy dawn. The cresting sun illuminated her features, highlighting the gentle curve of her cheeks and the fullness of her lips, slightly parted as if…

Well, he wasn’t going to go there.

Her eyelashes, long and delicate, rested against her skin, just above the faint purple shadows underneath that spoke of the ordeal she’d undergone.

Docile, vulnerable, exhausted. Lily was an enigma. Full of fear when he’d first rescued her, then simmering with fiery indignation. She was tough, though. He’d pushed her hard, mostly because he’d wanted to get under cover before daylight hit, but also because he was mad at what she’d said about him. That he’d convinced Spade to join the unit.

He ground his jaw. No way. She’d been wrong about that. Spade had signed up on his own accord. No persuading necessary. As had Ricky and Blaster and all the other guys he knew.

He cast his mind back. It was so damn long ago he could hardly remember. He’d met Spade, or Joe as he was called back then, at a training camp. Spade was an infantryman in the Ordnance Corps, and Blade had recently returned from a tour in Iraq with the 82nd Airborne Division. Blade was older than Spade by about five years, but when you served together, age didn’t mean a thing. They became fast friends. Spade had always been bright, and he was—had been—an asset to their unit. The guy had been a genius with machinery. Anything from their patrol vehicle to a jammed anti-tank weapon, he could take apart and fix.

Blade remembered the moment he’d decided to try out for the Special Forces. His Commanding Officer had pulled him aside and told him he was a good fit. Blade had needed a change. The constant partying and mayhem while off-duty was taking its toll. He didn’t like the person he’d become. To win the respect of his buddies, he had to drink more, stay up later, and get up to more shit, and after four years, he was over it.

The decider had been when he’d met one of the Green Berets on a training operation. He’d been in the canteen when the atmosphere had changed. It suddenly buzzed with energy like an electric current had been fed through the room, and in walked a massive, tattooed man wearing a green beret with a silver emblem on it—an arrowhead and dagger.

He’d stared at the man with respect and admiration. The entire canteen had gone quiet, as if the sheer power of this one man had rendered them all speechless. This was a member of the U.S. Army Special Forces, one of the army’s most elite fighting forces.

As soon as he could, he’d gone straight to his CO and applied for the Q Course, the grueling year-long recruitment process for the Special Forces.

Perhaps his determination had rubbed off on Spade, but he was certain of one thing—his buddy wouldn't have signed up if he hadn't wanted to. Spade had been as driven as he was. During training, which was one of the toughest courses in the world, they'd both managed to keep it together and neither had broken.

If Spade hadn’t wanted to be there, he wouldn’t have made it through the physical endurance, jungle, escape and evasion, or interrogation trainings. He wouldn’t have coped with the hunger and thirst, intimidation tactics, or sheer exhaustion they'd experienced for days with no apparent end in sight. No one without a hundred percent commitment would have.

Blade had the utmost respect for anyone willing to put themselves through that grueling process. There was no shame in bugging out. Many good men had. Not everyone was cut out to be part of the Special Forces, but Spade wasn't one of them.

He grimaced. Whatever Lily might think about him, she was wrong about that. Sure, he might have talked about it, but Spade had made up his own mind about joining and had been all-in from the get-go.

Finally, he reached the cabin. It was hidden away in the densest part of the forest, barely visible unless you knew it was there. Abandoned for many years, it would once have been a half-way house for bandits and rebels. Now, given its dilapidated state, it had been left to rot.

His buddy Phoenix, with whom Blade had done basic training before Phoenix had switched sides and joined the U.S. Navy, had rebuilt the front door yesterday morning after the chopper dropped them off. He'd attached new hinges and repaired the lock so it could be bolted from the inside. The windows had been boarded up, apart from a tiny slit at the very top, so not only was it pretty dark inside, but no one could enter that way unless they had a rocket propelled grenade.

Supporting Lily with one arm, he used his free hand to unlock the door then kicked it open. He knew immediately the other members of Pat’s team had been back. There were two fully stacked backpacks in the corner.

Thank you, guys.

These were definitely going to come in handy since he’d left his own pack behind in the cave.

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