Page 34 of D-Day

“I know what you’re looking for.” Her breath rushed out in horror. “Nuclear triggers. Taer told me. He tried to nix the deal, but Lando refused. He’s going to find out where Lando is holding them.”

His gaze locked on her, his voice low, filled with pride. “That’s excellent news.”

Helen had to clench her teeth to keep her own emotions in check. “There’s one wrinkle. The NPA will be here in two or three days to finish the deal,” she said in a rush. “Taer doesn’t have much time left.”

“I know.” The muscles in his throat worked. “We’re going to get out of here alive, Helen. Then we’re going to figure everything out. But right now, we have to play our parts and get those triggers.”

She latched onto those words, “figure everything out” and hoped like hell they would get out of here alive and have a chance at a new, true beginning. But right now, everything turned on an explosive dime, and that freaking tightrope got even more taut.

11

For a moment,she froze. “What do you mean? How do you know about Taer?” His words finally penetrated, and the sick feeling of leaving a wounded man alone, in danger, pain, and fear bore down on her like a weight she had never felt before.

“We found Greg in the jungle,” he said softly. “He told us everything.”

She had been forced to leave him, she knew that in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t seem to reconcile her survival with the act of fighting for his life. She hadn’t fought hard enough. The guilt that she had been pushing down for months rose like a specter, mocking her, grinding her actions into her like dirt into a barely healed wound.

The death of her colleagues six months ago had been horrific. Murdered, mutilated, and dragged through the streets. She closed her eyes, her breath coming in small bursts. Tammy March had taken her place on that aid mission. She had been eager for her first assignment, and Helen had been burned out, just getting over a cold, and yearning to see her family. She had bowed out and Tammy had died in her stead.

It could have, would have been her, but instead she had been safe and sound at her family’s ranch while her whole team had been brutalized. She closed her eyes, knowing confidently that she was a selfless person, but what she did for a living allowed her to escape thinking about the problems in her life that might make her unhappy. But because she automatically avoided pain, without realizing it, cutting herself off from her true feelings, she also avoided feeling all the other emotions that were so important in life, especially love.

Oh, how she had missed out on so much. Facing all of this while she was trying to process all the survivor guilt over her team, Greg put her into a mental tailspin.

“And you got him help?” she asked tentatively, her gut clenching in hope and dread. “He’s going to be okay?”

He shook his head, his hand covering hers where she was suddenly clutching the hard edge of his vest. “No, Helen. He wanted me to tell you he was sorry about not being able to get you out of harm’s way.”

She shook her head, her heart lurching in her chest with alarm and a sick realization she didn’t want to even think. Their relationship had been long over…D-Day filled her world so full she had no room for anything else. She’d told Greg so at the restaurant, but he had tried to rescue her anyway, put his life on the line for her, and now he was— “No. Please, no.” Her voice broke on a soft sob. Greg deserved her grief, her guilt, and her tribute to his courage. That was all she had for him, everything else belonged to D-Day until her last breath.

Full of stark agony, she tried to hold onto hope. “Drew,” she pleaded, feeling as if she were hanging on by a mere thread, the feeling of fear and helplessness surging back. Everything was piling up behind her eyes, so much that this time there may not be a dam strong enough, or she was losing the heart to shoreit up, and yet, all these years she had again…missed out on so much.

His face turned grave, and his eyes sad. “I’m sorry, darlin’. He’s dead. He bled out.”

“Oh, no,” she whispered, trying to will away the forces battering at that dam, the sting of tears a precursor to all the situations she’d handled badly in an effort to keep her options open, staying adventurous and maintaining a freedom that was a lie. She hadn’t been free at all. All her denied emotions kept her in a prison of her own making.

Reliving the awful moments after she’d heard about her team mingled with those heartbreaking moments she’d tried to get Lando to listen to her, and in the midst of all that turmoil, there was only the memory of D-Day’s comforting arms, his male scent, and the warmth of his hands as he was there to hold her through the aftermath of her grief. He was here now, when she needed him the most in her life, hanging onto that flimsy branch to keep her from getting pulled in that churning maelstrom, so that she could dictate the way she lived the rest of her life.

A bad case of the shakes hit her as she lowered her forehead to his shoulder. God, she had been so scared, was still scared. So damn scared. But all that residual pain, horror, sadness, and guilt hit her, and her throat closed up with a terrible tightness that didn’t want to clear, her vision blurring with tears. Covering her face with her hands, she came apart piece by piece. She had to lose herself to find out who she was, and wasn’t that a fucking conundrum?

“Ah, darlin’,” he whispered roughly, an agony of feeling in his softly spoken words. “I’m so, so sorry.” He cupped the back of her head in that big palm of his, those capable hands, whether handling tons of horseflesh or one of those wicked weapons he carried or the gentle touch of his fingers as he used them in ways that made her sweat and cry out. She finally gave intothe intolerable pressure in her chest, needing to build a bridge over that thrashing, tumbling water, to scramble onto some solid ground.

It was his tenderness that unraveled her—and the awful tension that had dogged her every moment since she’d been forced here. And it was also the accumulated strain of months of unhappiness and moments of heart-stopping longing. For months she had shoved the constant anxiety, the horror, the frustration, and the inevitable revelation that she was so deeply in love with Drew that there was nowhere to go with it. All of that was crowding in the back of her mind, and her refusal to give in to it. But now, at the end of this harrowing experience, still enmeshed in terrible danger, she let it take her under, as if, after months of stockpiling all those emotions she refused to acknowledge, her own internal dam had broken.

But she wasn’t alone. Miraculously, he was here, and the solid, sheer solace of his comforting presence allowed her the relief she needed. Helen huddled in his arms, pressing her face against his jaw. Her breath catching on a sob, she wound her arms around his neck.

“It’ll be all right,” he murmured softly. “I promise.”

Shifting his hold, he slid his arm under her knees and rose, lifting her securely in his arms. He tightened his hold around her back as he carried her down the hall. A questioning male voice stopped him for a few seconds. She barely caught the conversation, but then he was moving again. D-Day eased her through a doorway, shouldering the door shut behind him. He carried her over to the bed and sat down. Bracing his back against the headboard, he swung his legs up onto the bed, keeping her secure in a tight embrace. He stroked her hair back from her face, then kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, Helen, you’ll get it all worked out. Take your time, and don’t rush.”

Her purge was soul-shattering and long. The outpouring of so much bottled-up emotion ravaged her, and D-Day continued to hold her, murmuring soft assurances as he rubbed her back. It seemed like an eternity before she cried herself out, her harsh sobs dwindling to the occasional ragged one as the sound of his voice and his long, soothing caresses brought her back from the depths of her personal dark night of the soul, and she was finally able to ease her hold on him.

Through it all, the pressure of his embrace didn’t relent for one second as he rocked her through the worst of her sorrow.

There was no way she was going to get through all this morass tonight or even the next day. She didn’t have the luxury of sorting out her own life right now. What she had to do was pretend to despise D-Day, work Taer for the location of the triggers while he betrayed his brother, and then get out of this alive. She didn’t want to think about his impending death, their time ticking away, or what would happen if the NPA showed up before they could secure the triggers. All of that was just too overwhelming. One moment at a time until she, D-Day, Zorro, and Buck were out of here with mission success.

But her big brother always laughed at plans. He always said it was imperative to have a well-thought-through and -practiced plan for action. Stay one step ahead of potential problems. But he also said that most plans went to hell in a handbasket the moment that firefight started.Adapt and overcomewas one of the SEALs’ mottos.

Yet that was her plan and had to be the only plan for them to deal with. Her personal problems and their relationship had to take a back burner.

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