Page 17 of D-Day

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Buck growled.

“I was only going to say that she knows how to stand up to people. Like wow. What a powerhouse.”

“Why is that surprising? Her brother is a SEAL. That shit must run in the family,” Professor said.

“Tough western stock, for sure,” Gator said. “She’s in over her head, though.”

“Straight up. It could be a terrible disaster,” Professor agreed.

“I think she’s as brave as hell, and who says she can’t pull it off?”

“Shut the fuck up, Zorro,” D-Day growled getting into his face.

Surprised faces surrounded him. He understood why. He was never this aggressive with the team, but when it came to Helen, he wasn’t himself.

Zorro’s eyes narrowed. “I have my own opinion just like she does. Get out of my face, man.”

Something snapped in D-Day, something that had been simmering ever since high school. The need to hit back, to maim and regain control he had lost so shamefully, with humiliating damage. He swung at Zorro and coldcocked him on the jaw. Zorro stumbled back, his dark eyes narrowing. He lunged at D-Day, but Professor grabbed him just as Buck and Blitz restrained D-Day.

“That’s enough of that shit,” Buck ground out.

D-Day struggled until they let him go. “I need to let off some steam,” he growled, then headed toward the motorcycles parked near their other vehicles. He heard shouts behind him, but he ignored them. He jammed on the helmet. They wouldn’t say a word to Joker. Even now, they would cover for him. The guilt at hitting one of his teammates curled through him, making him choke even more on his own fury, and shame. He started the bike and roared out of the compound, trying to outrun all those feelings settling in his gut, his chest, and his heart. His mind struggled with all that horrible, unresolved pain, hurt, and betrayal. His trust had been shattered, and it had scarred him deep inside.

He caught up to the van, and without thought, he followed it, nothing but a mass of jumbled-up, tangled-up emotions…and needs. So many needs, he was swamped by them.

He idled down the block from the van as it dropped Helen close to the hospital, a neat little congregation of white homes. All the windows were dark, and he waited until Bear pulled away and the taillights of the van disappeared into the dark night, until a light flickered on in one of the windows.

Using his heel, he folded down the kickstand, turned off the bike, and pocketed the key. Without considering the consequences of what he was about to do, his compulsion and fury driving him, he slipped inside the building and headed toward the room with the light.

When he got there, he knocked, trying not to bang on the door with his fist like he wanted to do, but there were people here who knew him as Graham Butler, and he couldn’t blow that cover.

The door opened, silhouetting Helen in the light. She gasped softly, her whole body visibly softening, leaning toward him as if the same compulsion warred inside of her. She pulled him inside and closed and locked the door behind her, leaning against the panel.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, dressed in nothing but a silky robe. “Are you crazy? If one of my colleagues sees you it could blow your cover.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled, jamming his hands on his hips and summoning his most intimidating scowl. “But I came here because I want you to fucking tell Bailee Thunderhawk that you’ve changed your mind, then pack your damn bags and get the fuck out of here.”

“And what excuse am I supposed to give her?”

“That you lost your freaking mind and have come to your senses.”

She ignored his sarcasm, and that direct, probing gaze gave him no quarter.

“No.”

Her one-word response made him take a furious step forward, slowly closing the distance between them until he was looming in front of her. The little witch was defying utter common sense. He flattened his hands against the door on either side of her shoulders, trapping her against hardwood and histaut, unyielding body. His mouth twisted in fury. “You don’t know what the goddamn you’re talking about. Do you know what I’ve seen, what I’ve experienced, what I’ve done while on this job?” he said through gritted teeth. Knowing how tough and obstinate she was, he wasn’t at all gentle with her, determined to inject a bit of uncertainty into that confidence of hers so she’d see it his way. “It would give you nightmares, Helen. Those men…they’re monsters, then there’s the unyielding, insidious jungle with other fucking unseen danger everywhere.”

Instead of shrinking back from the bite in his tone, she lifted that stubborn, defiant chin of hers. “No, D-Day. What I have seen through my work already gives me nightmares. I’m not just some babe in the jungle. I’m an RN, a nurse with purpose. I will not abandon these people who I’ve sworn to give aid to. I will not, no matter how angry or how little you believe in me at this moment, give in to fear and intimidation.”

Inhaling jaggedly, he dropped his head, his voice was an anguished rasp, “Goddammit, Helen. Don’t you know that if anything happens to you…I can’t live—” his words choked off as he swallowed hard against the soft exhalation of pain.

Her hand stroked along his rigid jaw. “Then you know how I feel, Drew.” Her tone was just as rigid, just as anguished. “Nothing is ever guaranteed. We have to take what we can while we can.” She gasped softly, and there was so much desperation in that one small sound, so much fire, it was like a knife in his chest. “Oh, Drew, I’ve missed you so much I can barely stand it. I wanted to talk to you that night. I’m sorry for what I did. But you just drive me insane, and I can’t seem to catch my breath or think straight when I’m near you.”

Her arms went around him, and she choked out his name, then pressed against him, silently pleading with him, pleading with her body—and any connection he had with reason shattered into a thousand pieces. Coming here had beendangerous. There was too much old familiarity between them, too much need, and it would be too easy—fuck, so easy to just let it happen.

Trying to regain some control, he held her with every ounce of strength he had, fighting for every breath. Somehow, he had to put the brakes on. Somehow.

But he was really learning the hard way that Helen wouldn’t be deterred. She cupped him, squeezing his tight, aching balls, then caressing his hard-as-nails dick, her hand doing things that were meant to break a man’s resolve, and she broke him so good, so fucking good.

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