Page 22 of Saved By the Marines (Soldiers Of Misfortune)

“Just for a few minutes, Baby.”

I chuckled and waited while the line was quiet.

“Alright, she’s gone. What could you possibly need at…shit! It’s two a.m. What’re you calling for?”

“I need your help,” I said, then explained everything.

“Alright. Hang on.” A loud thudding and more cursing floated through the air. “Brando and Weaver are here, too,” Suave announced cheerfully.

“What the fuck is going on?” Brando asked, sounding pissed as hell.

I didn’t want to know how Suave had just woken up his team leader and other teammate. Instead, I quickly explained where we were.

“What do you need, Wolfe?” Brando asked with a yawn.

“Bailey Michaels has been kidnapped. I need you to do your CIA thing,” I told him. “Get us the security footage from the U.S. Embassy here, get us a list of potential kidnappers for this area, look into anyone staying here at the embassy and whether they could have been involved, and get us the toys we need to get her back.”

“Shit, Bailey Michaels?” Suave asked. “She’s one hot piece of-”

“Suave, I’m going to fucking staple your balls to your asshole if you fucking finish that sentence,” I told him. Glancing over, I saw Jas all but vibrating in fury. Kip didn’t look too pleased either. None of us liked him talking badly about our girl.

My brows drew together. I needed to knock that shit off. Over the last few days that’s how I’d started thinking of her. As ours. As if Senator Michaels would ever let his reputation be sullied when the news media found out a team of Marines was fucking his daughter. She could never be ours.

That was one thing about our team that we’d sort of naturally slipped into. If one of us got into a relationship, we all had to agree on it, because we all got into that relationship. It just worked for us. We were gone so damn much that it was hard for us to maintain everything back home. We got called out on missions regularly. So, we’d all started living together, sharing all the common household duties and real life shit once we were state side. That had morphed into sharing a relationship with a woman when Jas had brought home one we’d all ended up being attracted to.

The relationship was only with the woman—we weren’t anything but brothers and teammates amongst ourselves—and she basically got herself three boyfriends. Honestly, with how busy we all were it was more like it took all three of us to equal out to only one boyfriend.

We’d had relationships off and on over the last few years, but our latest had fizzled out a few months ago and we hadn’t found anyone worth pursuing since. Until now.

Shoving those thoughts out of my head, I listened back in as Jas and Kip spoke to the others.

“We’re going to need some supplies, too,” Jas requested.

“What kind of supplies?” Brando asked, tone wary.

“Rifles. Grenades. Ammo,” Jas listed off.

“A rocket launcher, if you have one,” Kip blurted out with a grin.

“If we have one?” We could all hear the grin in Weaver’s tone.

It was true, these CIA guys had some fun fucking toys. We’d know because usually we’d have the choice of all of this shit if we were on a regular mission.

“What the hell did they send you over there with?” Brando asked in disgust.

“Our 1911’s,” I told him. We had modified pistols that had been developed for Marine special operations units such as ours. Even with the kickass guns, it wouldn’t be enough. Not against the rifles the kidnappers would likely have. “Brandon. Every minute that ticks by while we sit here holding our dicks-”

His sigh was heavy. “There’s going to be so much fucking paperwork for this. You have a pen? Paper? Something?”

Kip pulled out his cell and nodded.

“Go ahead,” I told him. Kip noted down the address Brando gave.

“You’ll find everything you need there.”

“Thanks Brando.”

“What about me? I lost out on a great orgasm thanks to you!” Suave yelled from across the room.

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