Page 38 of Fire Meets Fire

That about sums it up. Though I’d exchange the word luck with one that represented my intelligence, and my ability to stay one step ahead of the law. For an answer, I raise my shoulders, then after a second, lower them down.

Her mouth purses, and any sign of amusement is gone as though it was never there. “I should have known better than to mess with your club, but it was a challenge. My career—my old career—I had to do whatever was needed to get the job done, pushing my Black Hawk to its limits, using all theweapons at my teams’ disposal. Making decisions in a split moment, manoeuvring to give the gunners the best shots. Analysing masses of disparate data for hours, never letting my concentration falter. Missions were exciting, adrenaline filled. There wasn’t a second that you could relax. I’m used to burning energy, using my wits and judgement, balancing risks and benefits, changing a plan at the last second to accommodate new threats or information based on weather conditions or updated intelligence.” She pauses and glances toward me.

I lift my chin, showing I understand what she’s saying. Then, in case she doesn’t see my comprehension tell her, “Civilian life is boring.”

She snorts at my adequate summation. But hell, I don’t need that explanation. I, too, served, and while much was routine, shit came at you out of the blue and you had to react to situations. Had to cope with people being shot and injured—or worse—around you, and without pause take over their position, putting your feelings on hold until later. The military life is not for the faint-hearted, and it’s why so many veterans return unable to cope with everyday life. It’s why I joined the MC rather than seeking another occupation. I, too, understand the need for adrenaline, and to feel you’re in control of your own fate and eventual destination. Of course, in both circumstances, it’s not one big blast. In both the MC and the military, the majority of time is spent hanging around, trying to stay occupied while waiting for something to happen, then when it does, it’s all-hands-on-deck while the shit goes down. The down time can hang heavy, trying to find something to occupy your mind and your hands. Knowing this about her makes it less strange she took the risk of breaking into our shop. It was a challenge she couldn’t resist.

Helo’s just like me and my brothers. We may not make old bones, but what we do while we’re alive is make life worth living.

And fuck me, but her rationalisation has done nothing more than emphasise how she’d make an amazing old lady.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” I breathe out, not realising I’m speaking my thoughts aloud. “Perfect for me.” Sharp eyes meet mine. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” I indicate myself, knowing I’m overreaching, but unable not to try. “From the moment I met you, you intrigued me. You’re beautiful, sexy, but more than that, your soul calls to mine. Fuck, I’m messing this up royally. You probably wouldn’t even look twice at me. I’m too old?—"

“Not perfect. Far from it,” she interrupts. Bowing her head, her body shudders. As if it’s an effort to summon the words, her voices catches as she starts, “I was held captive for six months.”

I open my mouth to tell her I already know that, when she shakes her head, a silent plea with her eyes for me to listen.

It’s not long after she starts speaking that I, a hardened MC prez, am not sure I’m strong enough to want to hear the full story, let alone understand how she could have lived it. But instead of cutting her short and telling her I get the picture, I continue to listen.

I’m just glad we’ve already eaten.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HELO

I’d suspected part of the reason Chaz was helping me was because he’d like a sexual relationship. Old news, many men are attracted to me. Maybe it’s the way I’m put together, but often, as a strong independent woman, I imagine they think it would be a challenge to tame me. Sometimes I’d say yes, other times I’d say no.

From the time I’d met Chaz, he intrigued me. On the physical front, he’s got the strong, brooding looks, a muscular body that would attract me, and I’ve found nothing to dislike about his personality. While unable to admit it to myself, part of the reason I returned to the shop was to see him again. It’s been a long time since any man has stirred my interest. But just because I find him good-looking doesn’t mean I need to do more than admire him from a distance.

While we’ve had our ups and downs in such a short time period, I think I’m beginning to understand him. Like me, he’s a leader, and in that I consider him my equal. And strange for a man, I believe he regards me as a partner, not a possession. If it had beenbefore,maybe I’d give it a shot. It would have been fine if my attraction to him had been one-sided.

But apparently it’s not. For some crazy reason, this man has put me in front of his club, and now I’ve got to throw a bucket of cold water over him. Whatever’s in his head about a me and him has to stop. He’s possibly given up so much, he deserves to know the reason.

But God knows, this is hard as fuck. I’m about to tell him things only disclosed before to my counsellor, and even that didn’t help. I’m laying myself bare, stepping back into my nightmare, and taking him along for the ride.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, I prepare to enlighten him. “Though I was captured along with the men, I was soon separated from them.”

He leans his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands, giving me all his attention.

“They had particular ways of torturing women, treating them very different from those with dicks.” Whether it’s the tremor in my voice or the way my hands shake, his eyes widen in understanding, and I’m happy I don’t have to spell it out. “Their torture of me wasn’t to get information. They didn’t expect a woman would know secrets worth knowing. They just saw me as a toy, something they had no trouble using.”

My hands clench and my leg starts bouncing. “They were clever. They didn’t bruise my face or anywhere visible, and they paraded me in front of the men, taunting them that I was cooperating. Mocking I preferred them to American men.”

He wipes a hand over his face. “Didn’t you correct them? And fuck, didn’t the other soldiers know they had to be lying?”

“It was made clear, if I said a word in my defence, they’d kill one of the men. The threat kept me quiet.” I shrug. “At first I think they didn’t believe our captors, but torture does funny things to a person. They killed anyway, and my lack of visible injuries, lack of protestation, well, I could see their attitude changing.” I swallow a couple of times to get saliva into mymouth as my brain conjures up the images in full technicolour. “They stripped me of my uniform, dressed me in their female’s clothes, and forced me to attend the executions, the beheadings. Parading me as a traitor was just one more cruelty for me and them. ”

Jesus. Fuck.He breathes out the words, but I still hear them. I rub at my temples, trying to clear my head, which is intent on showing me the sights, sounds and smells, throwing me back to that time. Of meeting the accusing eyes of the man about to be killed as he’d been told I’d helped them choose the next victim.

Their torture wasn’t just physical, it was mental as well. What could I have done? Protesting my innocence, screaming that, while not visible, I was being hurt as much as them, would only have resulted in more death. It wasn’t mine I was worried about, but I know playing with their captives’ psyche and emotions was an enjoyable game to them. If I’d stopped it, I might have escalated the end of everyone.

If hating me kept them alive, then that was the way it would have to be.

Chaz is waiting. I know I have to use the words to explain. “To the men held captive, I was being kept in luxury. I’d sold them out, was fed and clothed because I gave the terrorists what they wanted.” My hands fist, and my eyes shutter. “My brothers-in-arms thinking that was bad enough, but they had no idea what I was actually going through. I was a toy, and it wasn’t just their cocks they tortured me with.” Pausing, I can’t stop the whole-body shudder as I finally admit the consequences of how I was treated. “They may not have taken my life, but they took my present as well as my future. I can’t fly, and due to theirtenderministrations, they damaged me so badly I had to have a hysterectomy when I returned. I will never be able to have children.”

Unable to stand receiving sympathy that would just sanction my self-pity, I fully close my eyes, resting my head in my hands. The cabin isn’t cold, yet my body is racked with shivers. Now I’m guilty I hadn’t explained how broken I was when we’d first met. He’d never have made the sacrifices he has if he knew I wasn’t worth saving.

As he stays silent, I feel the moments tick by. Eventually I stand and go stare out of the window, trying to focus on something that will take my mind away from the scenes that keep replaying in my head. As I feel the air change around me, I’m alerted that Chaz has stepped into my space.

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