Page 16 of Addiction

“Crappy?” His brow rose at the insult. Tucker had worked on that place for months and had been proud of what he’d achieved out there in the forest. Even though he was glad to have gotten them both to safety, a part of him still longed for its desolate isolation, and deep down, he prayed that the morons following Bennett didn’t destroy everything he’d created. “That comment deserves a spanking in its own right!”

“No way.” She shuffled further away from him with a giggle, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m too tired for that.”

“Hmmm.” He shot her a sideways glance. Sure, he could see how she would be tired. Despite her youth, Ella didn’t seem to have much stamina for physical fitness, and he accepted her last few nights of rest had been broken at best. “Maybe you should get some sleep then.”

“Yes.” She peered at him from the shadows, her expression caught somewhere between concern and excitement.

That one look seemed reminiscent of their entire entanglement so far. There had been so much emotion—resentment entwined with anger that morphed into the hottest passion he could remember.

“I will if you don’t mind, sir?”

“Go ahead.” He forced his gaze back to the road, watching two fireflies dance fleetingly in the illumination of his headlights before whizzing away. “You rest, little girl.”

“But what about you, sir?” She shifted in her seat. “You must be exhausted as well.”

“I’m fine,” he told her. “I need less sleep than you.”

“Okay.” She sounded unsure, but as her eyelids fluttered closed, it seemed as though she was too weary to argue.

That’s a first.

“Oh, and little girl…” He smiled at the way her body jerked.

“Yes.” Her voice caught as her gaze found his in the dark. “Sir.”

“I won’t forget your little remark about my cabin.” There was no real malice in his tone, only a desire for her to understand that her quip hadn’t been overlooked. Her perfect little derriere would pay for the glib comment, eventually.

“Is that a threat, sir?” She sounded brave enough from the safety of her seat, but he’d wager her attitude would change once he had her back over his lap.

“No, little girl.” He adjusted the temperature of the interior so she could rest without being too cold. “That, gorgeous, is a promise.”

Chapter Seven

The Ghost of Collins

Tucker

Ella’s breathing slowed within a few moments of his vow, his little girl apparently not so perturbed by his promise that sleep couldn’t sweep her away. He watched her body slump in his peripheral vision, envying the ease with which she found slumber. Sleep had been increasingly difficult for him to find since her arrival, and when it came, it was often accosted by vivid and disturbing dreams. Somehow, having her around had reignited the memories of his military days, dragging up the old ghost of Collins’ betrayal.

“Bastard.” His jaw stiffened as he contemplated his old foe.

There had once been a time when Collins had seemed like his hero. He’d been the one who’d run to his rescue in the bunker, and Tucker was in no doubt, without Collins’ intervention, he’d have been shot dead in that dark corridor. Later, though, the motivation of his alleged savior was revealed to be less honorable.

Sliding into a lower gear, he slowed the engine as the old recollections rushed to greet him.

Around five months had passed since Collins had dragged him out of the bunker. That time had been etched bizarrely into his mind for both its jarring speed and endless, protracted days. There were weeks of agony where healing had seemed all but impossible, but slowly, his body had started to recover from the multiple gunshots his target had inflicted. Flown home as soon as was feasible, Tucker spent most of that time holed up in a dingy and remote military hospital that was miles from his so-called friends. Isolated and in pain, he’d had a lot of time to think.

Too much time.

That was when the questions about Collins’ part in the fudged mission had become difficult to dismiss.

Collins had been on standby that night. There hadn’t been any communication between him and Tucker once Tucker had gained entrance to the bunker, so how the hell had he known to come to Tucker’s aid, let alone arrive at the precise moment before the target finished him?

Somehow, no matter how hard Tucker tried to deconstruct the events of that night, the pieces of the puzzle just didn’t make sense. Collins had to have been tipped off about what would happen. He must have known the target would be waiting for Tucker and when to arrive and pull him to safety. Yet Tucker didn’t know how…

As he brooded on the questions, only one thing seemed certain. Tucker couldn’t trust Collins, and the medal their superiors had seen fit to award him only intensified his fury and mistrust.

He didn’t like to think that his leaders had been in cahoots with whatever Collins’ ill-purpose was, but he’d had to wonder if it could be true. The fact Collins had been rewarded for what seemed like blatant duplicity really stuck in his craw. That had been the moment he’d known his destiny awaited beyond the walls of military service, but it was one specific conversation he’d had with Collins that was burned into his psyche as he sped down the open road.

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