Page 30 of Soldier, Tailor, Spy

She grunted, taking a punch to her stomach, going to one knee. The position was a bad one for her. It either left her prosthetic leg exposed or her off balance. Both could cause her to have to grapple from the ground, one of her weaker skills. Thankfully, she saw the opening she needed and took out her opponent’s knee. His enormous body thudded against the ground while his skull made a sickening crack as it hit the sidewalk. When he didn’t move, she got back up and continued to help Alé and Bronx get the upper hand in the melee.

Someone, she didn’t know who, pushed them farther away from the public, cutting them off from screaming for help. Whoever the men were, they were smart. Attracting attention meant inhibiting them from whatever they had planned for Alé, Bronx, and her. However, it also allowed them to use force and kill them if that was the only way to get free.

Gunfire echoed off the walls, causing Bexley to cover her ears. Fear sent her into a tailspin of a full on PTSD moment. The whoosh of her blood pumping through her veins accompanied the bees buzzing around her. Beside her, Bronx fell to the ground, her body curled as her hand covered where she’d been shot, and blood ran free. Alé was screaming at her while Bexley... She... She couldn’t think as white-hot rage broke through the haze of her being paralyzed in fear. She grabbed the knife from the ground where Bronx dropped it and went on the offensive.

She didn’t know how long she fought those remaining four men or if they hit her anywhere as well. All of her movements were from muscle memory and were meant to hurt, maim, and kill the enemy. Her breath came in heaving pants as she flowed through the motions she’d practiced so many times over the years. Her mind focused on the one solitary fact of needing to make it out alive.

Second, was getting Bronx help.

When she lodged the knife as deep as it would go into the first man who’d approached her and Alé’s gut, she twisted her wrist, killing him. Demented as it sounded, Bexley stood over his body as blood poured from his stomach. She watched the light fade from his bloodshot, ugly brown eyes. The warmth of his blood flowing over her hand brought her a giddy sense of comfort.

“Bexley!” Alé’s voice cut through the murderous fog surrounding her. He sounded so far away, yet so close to her. “Bexley!” He screamed her name again, shaking her.

In a rush, the noise of the pavilion returned. Sirens blared in the distance, growing closer by the second. She blinked several times as she stood there, her hand still on the knife buried in the bastard’s torso. Two of the men weren’t completely dead yet, but the rest were. Bexley stepped away from the body. The stickiness of the man’s blood clung to her hand as she gazed up at Alé, who had Bronx in his arms.

“Bronx!” She needed to make sure her girl was okay. They were just starting out. No way she’d lose either of her partners now or ever. “Bronx? P-Please.” Bexley’s throat clogged and her vision blurred. “P-Please.”

“Shoulder,” Bronx croaked. “Only a shoulder. Ow.” She cracked her eyes open. Pain and pride filled her beautiful blue eyes. “You okay? How’s the leg?”

Fuck her leg, or if she was okay. Bronx was shot and EMS was taking too long. “W-We need to go. We have to get back to b-base.”

“Called Asher,” Bronx murmured and winced. “He’s on the way.”

No sooner had she said the words, Asher touched down in the empty field near to where they stood. He exited the helicopter with Noah and Mateo in tow and Bexley finally gave out. Her butt plopped onto the concrete as body wracking sobs shook her. She’d never, ever, been so scared in her life. Yes, she dealt with her father’s abuses and yes, she’d been kidnapped, but this was different. This... If she’d been alone, she’d have been as good as dead or worse, taken.

“Bexley,” Mateo whispered, gathering her in his arms. He always gave the best hugs and made her feel the safest. She launched herself at him, not caring if she got blood all over him. Right now, she needed her poppa. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here. Daddy’s here too. We’ve got you.”

Noah was her bear. Her daddy. The one and only man besides Mateo and Alé, who’d protect her with such fierceness. Bronx and her. They were bad bitches, but there was nothing like her fathers. Nothing at all. She cried in his arms; the adrenaline leaking bit by bit from her body until she was exhausted and hurt everywhere.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Bexley whispered. “They left us no choice.”

“You did the right thing, sprout,” Noah said. “This was a, them or you situation. Downside is, you didn’t leave us much to work with. Questioning the ones who survived might take weeks, if then.”

She inhaled Mateo’s masculine cologne and let out a shuddered breath. “Bronx needs to be transported, too.”

“Rae is on the way, kid,” Asher said. “For now, why don’t you tell me what happened here? We can only hold off police for so long.”

Police. Shit. Bexley nodded while EMS attended to Bronx. “Sure. I can do that at least.” She moved over to where Bronx was with Alé and held her hand while the EMTs stabilized Bronx. “I’ll start from the beginning, because I’m not even sure why this happened, Commander.”

Asher nodded. His gaze softened as he stared at her. “The beginning is as good a place as ever to begin.”

Virginia Beach, VA, Maggie and Alex’s townhouse...

Alex’s hips flexed against Maggie as he fucked her in short, hard thrusts. He couldn’t get enough of her and was convinced he never would. After two years of marriage and a year of living in their apartment, there were days he still had to pinch himself to believe any of this was real.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pressing his face to her throat. “I’ll never get enough of you, Mags.”

She whimpered his name, drawing her arms around his neck. “Same.” He loved the lilt to her voice, the wonderful melodic sound always left him excited and craving her.

They weren’t some untried teenagers anymore. They were partners working toward the same goal, retiring from their lives as agents and moving to some deserted island where they could spend their golden years together, even though people like them didn’t get a happily ever after.

Sure felt good, though.

He rolled them over, so Maggie rode him, her hips rocking at an even pace meant to draw out their pleasure. She was like a fine wine. Aged to perfection. She cupped her breasts, massaging them while he laid back to watch her toy with her hard nipples until she begged him to suck and nip at the taut points. When she brought them to his face, damn, he about lost his mind. He was hungry. Famished. There wasn’t anything better than his Maggie.

Her pace quickened. Her cries for more were music to his ears. For each of her thrusts, he met her with his own, taking them higher and higher until they were a mess of erratic motion, meant to give them the pleasure they both yearned for, until they were tumbling, headlong into the best euphoria imaginable. He held her tight to his body as she pulsed around him, dragging every bit of his release from his body and then he slumped to the mattress, spent for not the first time that night.

Maggie covered him moments later, her soft laugh whispering across his flesh. Alex trailed his fingers up and down her spine as they gathered themselves. It would never get old for them, even though they would age.

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