Page 71 of Brawler
The Ecuadorian officer’s eyes flicked between her and the SEALs. For one terrible moment Emily thought he’d call her bluff, that he’d demand answers she couldn’t give. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Then he gave a sharp nod, barked orders, and the rifles lowered.
Emily pressed on, pouring it out, her words tumbling quick and emotional. “They rescued me just in time. I don’t know what those men wanted with me, but thank God you arrived now, too. You’re all heroes.”
The officer’s lips thinned, but what could he say? To deny it meant admitting she hadn’t been saved. To press further meant insulting them. He gave a tight nod, barked a few orders, and his men started the mop-up.
Emily’s knees nearly gave out in relief.
Minutes later, rotor wash flattened the clearing as the helo dropped low, the SEALs shepherding her aboard. She felt Brawler’s hand at the small of her back, steadying her as they climbed the ramp.
Inside, the roar of engines swallowed everything. The smell of oil and cordite clung to her skin. Then, above it all, one voice rose, loud and certain. Another followed, then the rest, a thunderous chorus that rattled her bones.
“Hoo-yah!”
It was for her.
Heat flooded her face, half shock, half giddy disbelief. She pressed herself closer to Brawler’s side, his presence wrapping around her like armor. In that moment, her heart slammed with the undeniable truth. She hadn’t just survived the fight. She’d earned her place in it.
16
The rideback blurred in a wash of noise and vibration. Emily sat wedged against Brawler, Beast sprawled at their feet, the rest of the team slouched around them in silence, weapons across their knees. No one spoke, but the heat of the hoo-yah still hummed in her chest, wrapping her in warmth she’d never felt before. For one fragile, impossible moment, she let herself believe it. She belonged.
She leaned closer, her voice a husky whisper. “So…do you and your team have to jet off immediately?”
Brawler tipped his head down, mouth tugging at one corner. “Why? What did you have in mind?”
Her fingers slid up, brushing along the rough line of his jaw. “Some yelling, some mouth action, some riding, some thrusting, and a whole lot of Neanderthal.”
He choked on a laugh, eyes shutting tight for a beat. “How about some fucking sleep in there?”
“I don’t want to waste my time sleeping,” she whispered back, glaring at the damned vest keeping her from the heat of his chest. “Are you saying you’re too tired to get it up?”
His hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing her cheek. His voice dropped low, rough enough to vibrate in her bones. “Too tired? For you? No fucking way. But I did get wounded protecting you.”
Her lips curved, teasing. She tilted her head, feigning sympathy, her voice dropping into a soft coo. “That’s right. The big, bad SEAL got hurt.” She leaned in, brushing his mouth with hers in the faintest, tantalizing way. “Tell you what. I’ll kiss every single one of your boo-boos.”
Brawler’s growl rumbled against her lips, his forehead resting against hers like a man two seconds away from hauling her into his lap. “Careful, Shortcake. I might hold you to that.”
“Get a goddamned room,” Dagger muttered good-naturedly.
The silence stretched warm and thick around them until Easy’s low voice cut in from across the cabin. “We get it. We’ve been in the same position…so to speak.”
Bondo snorted softly. Shark rumbled a quiet laugh. Even Tex’s mouth twitched, though he kept his eyes on the cabin wall.
She soaked up the acknowledgment, support. Every one of them had known what it was to come back from hell with a woman’s face burned into their chest and the desperate need to hold onto her.
Emily’s throat tightened, the heat in her belly matched by something rawer. She really loved these guys.
Her mind went to Flash, the memory of his collapse, and she couldn’t get it out of her mind that something strange had happened to him.
The helo touched down.
Sunlight seared across the tarmac as the side doors slid open. Emily blinked, squinting against the glare, expecting more crewmen, maybe transport vehicles, maybe the first step toward home.
Instead, men in suits fanned out, blocking the exit.
Her gut clenched. Before she could even ask, they surged forward, forming a wall between her and the SEALs. Hands closed on her arms, firm, inescapable.
“Emily Shade?” one of them asked, voice clipped, as if he didn’t already know.
