Page 31 of Call Sign: Thunder
She didn't look happy with his request, but she didn't protest either. He decided to push his luck. "Say it, Allie. Tell me you won't turn to alcohol the next time you get upset or feel out of control. You'll call me instead."
She was wavering. He could see she didn't want to agree to his request, but to her credit she did. "Okay, I promise. No more alcohol. But you're gonna stay here, right?"
"I'm gonna stay."
That satisfied her.
Zach caught her as she was about to topple out of her chair, literally falling asleep where she sat. It was clear she was exhausted having struggled with debilitating insomnia since the kidnapping. He carried her to the bed, pulling back the cool sheets and laying her in the middle of the bed fit for a king.
Allison curled up into a ball on her side like a kitten, not waking as he pulled the covers up around her to tuck her in. He left only long enough to grab his plate of quesadillas and beer and brought them to the bedside table and comfortable chairs. Zach parked it there, enjoying watching Allison sleeping soundly and giving him the first real time to think things through since her father had shown up at Fort Lejeune.
What exactly did he think was going to come out of this time with Allison? She was damaged emotionally. Hell, she needed a psychologist, or a therapist or even a fucking tarot reader. Someone. Anyone had to be better qualified to help this adorable young woman through her emotional crisis other than Zachary Garrett, Mr. One-night-stand.
He lost track of time watching over her… admiring her… and yes, wanting her. God help him, but he wanted her.
The whimpers were his first clue her nightmares had started. Before he could take action, she was thrashing her arms, fighting off an imaginary bad guy. He didn't take the time to weigh his options. He reacted, stripping down to his boxer briefs, pulling back the covers and sliding into the bed behind her.
She stilled the second his arms wrapped around her, cocooning her in his protection. He spoke softly against the shell of her ear. "Shhh… I've got you, honey. No one's gonna hurt you again. Sleep tight."
A final sigh and then he felt the tension leaving her body, relaxing against him. Her head lay on his right bicep as her pillow as he hugged her tighter, spooning her until they felt like one.
Cuddling was not a frequent pastime of the Casanova, yet tonight he appreciated every minute he got to comfort Allison. He knew it would end all too soon. He fought sleep, not wanting to miss a minute of their time together, yet finally succumbing to his own exhaustion not long after he saw three on the clock.
Chapter Fourteen
ALLIE
Allison wasn't sure if she needed caffeine, painkillers, or a stiff drink more as she rolled out of the king sized bed to shuffle off to the bathroom. Five minutes later, she returned to the bed, only then realizing it was empty.
Panic struck.
I knew he'd leave.
She pulled the thick robe closer, wrapping the long belt around her body twice to keep it from dragging on the floor. A quick inspection of the other rooms in the suite confirmed her fear. Zach had left her. No note. No good-bye. He'd just slipped away.
The weight of disappointment crushed her fragile recovery. How foolish she'd been to let hope take seed the night before. He'd cared for her with such tenderness. He'd lulled her into believing he might actually care. The truth was he had come because her father had demanded it. People didn't tell Walter Benson no. She knew that better than anyone.
She was about to collapse onto the oversized couch in the suite's parlor when she spied the small kitchenette. Microwave. Sink. Refrigerator.
Where there was a fridge, there would be beverages.
Allie struggled to her feet to shuffle to open the small door. Jackpot. The only thing better than a coffee breakfast was a mimosa breakfast. Champagne and orange juice were among the fully stocked choices.
The pop of the cork on the expensive bottle of bubbly contrasted with the soft fizz as she poured her first flute full to the brim. She'd add OJ to the next glass. She downed the first glass as if she were forcing down medicine. In her mind, alcohol had begun to take on that quality. It dulled bad memories almost as well as the meds her doctor had prescribed. She found they worked best when combined together.
The second flute was at her lips when she heard the slam of the heavy door. She didn't even have time to contemplate hiding the champagne before Zach strolled into the small space, his arms full of bags and balancing a cardboard beverage carrier filled with two hot and two cold beverage cups.
She wasn't sure who was more surprised to see the other. Zach's surprise quickly turned to anger. He slammed his load down on the counter a little too hard and had to catch one tall coffee before it toppled over.
"What the fuck are you doing, Allison?"
"Em… I was thirsty."
"I was gone less than thirty minutes, and you're hitting the booze? Christ, it's nine o'clock in the fucking morning."
"Hey, mimosas are a common breakfast beverage."
"Yeah, well not in my book. And I hate to break this to you, but youaccidentallyleft the orange juice out."
