Page 75 of Dash

Clutching my cane in her hands, backing up unsteadily from the dead man bleeding out on the ground, Thena met my gaze. Her glassy eyes showed no traces of recognition. I slowed down. I felt more than heard the presence of my team as they caught up with me.

“Holy shit,” Guzman’s incredulous voice reached me even as my all attention was focused on Thena. “Did you guys see that? Goddess fights like the devil!”

“Shut your trap.” Bozeman’s low bass took charge.“Secure the perimeter. Make sure all targets have been eliminated. Control. Report? Over.”

“Air’s bogey free,” Mina’s voice crackled in my ear. “Ground’s clear. Nothing’s moving but you guys. Over.”

Knowing that my team had my back, I lowered my weapon.

“Thena.” I advanced closer to her. “Thena?”

Her throat rippled and her mouth moved, but no words made it through. Her soft curls fluttered in the breeze as aimless as her gaze. Her skin glared porcelain white against my black tux jacket and the remnants of her red dress. Dirt streaks gave her face a bruised appearance. Her eyes seemed as big and round as the moon that decided to grace us at that exact moment, beaming its tenuous light on us.

The shakes began to rattle her body, but still, my fierce goddess held on to my cane. A glimmer of defiance enlivened her dead eyes as I stepped forward. She lifted the cane and growled. “Stay away.”

“It’s me.” Moving slowly, I slid my gun back in its holster and raised my hands in the air. “It’s me, Dash. Remember me?”

She blinked several times before the chill in her gaze wavered. “Dash?” she breathed. “Is it really you? You survived?”

“It’s me and, yes, I survived.”

It struck me then that this was truly who I’d been up to this point, a battered survivor of all kinds of wars, including those waged inside my head. Now I wanted to be more than a survivor, a man committed to a full life, worthy of Thena, and devoted to reconstructing our happiness.

To make sure I got my chance, I had to get Thena to safety. Then I had to hunt Coco and end the threat, once and for all.

Coco, whoever the hell you are, you’re fucked. I’m coming for you.

After blinking several times, Thena slowly lowered the cane. Opening my arms, I stepped up, enveloped her cold body against the warmth of mine, and kissed the top of her head, before I drew back and studied her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. No.” For a second, her body went limp in my hold before she was able to regain her feet. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Sorry about what?” I hugged her to my chest, feeling a rush of relief at having her in my arms, grateful that she was so strong and smart. “What could my brave goddess be sorry about?”

She looked up, met my eyes, and lifted my crooked cane. “I broke it.”

The smile that hijacked my lips softened the lines of her face.

“It’s okay.” I cupped her cheek and kissed her. “I don’t need it anymore.”

“You don’t?” Her silvery eyes perused my face between kisses.

“No.” I smiled against her lips. “I’ve got you.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Thena

I stepped out of the plane’s shower feeling clean and refreshed. I was tired, but the exhilaration of being alive and having everyone in the team safely on board buoyed my mood. Dash was alive. That’s all I needed to keep going.

I ripped open the plastic bag and put on the neatly creased scrubs the cabin attendant had left for me on the bed. Apparently, all BB aircraft carried clean scrubs like these to allow for after-mission cleanups. Mine fit loosely but comfortably.

Another sealed bag held a pair of plastic slippers. I slid my feet into them and tried them out. The scratches on the soles of my feet didn’t bother me overly much. I had a stubbed toe, a couple of bruises, and my body ached in places I didn’t know existed, but overall, I didn’t feel too terribly bad.

My gaze fell on the sight of Dash’s cane also laying on the bed. He’d said he didn’t need it anymore because he now had me. The butterflies in my stomach rioted all over again when I remembered the affection that beamed in his eyes as he uttered the words. He’d looked at me like he used to. It made me hopeful. Three years of sorrows could not be erased, but perhaps they could be forgiven.

I trailed my fingers over the fractured cane and decided to keep it. It was a reminder of our hard-fought victory last night and a symbol of hope. As soon as I got to Astor House, I’d send it off for repairs.

Toweling my wet hair, I stepped out of the suite. After crossing a compartment set with seats facing each other, I paused behind the paneled threshold and peeked into the plane’s middle compartment. The guys gathered in the aircraft’smain lounge, loitering on a pair of long couches lined against the walls of the Gulfstream G700.

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