One Dark Wish, page 20
Sarah clasped her hands in her lap. Did Samantha know about Nate and his men? “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
Samantha came over, studied her reflection, and pinched her cheeks. “From what Pete told me, you’ve had a wretched day.”
Wretched. Yes. “That’s a great word.”
Samantha took a brush and held it over Sarah’s head. “May I?”
“Not sure it will help.”
“I can work miracles.” Samantha started brushing.
The rhythmic strokes felt wonderfully hypnotic. If Sarah had known this morning when she’d decided to go out to the isle that this was where she’d end up, learning what she now knew, she might not have gone. But then she wouldn’t have seen Nate again.
She wouldn’t have kissed Nate again.
“Ivers left the Juliet’s Lily truck down the street, and I put the keys in your overnight bag.” Samantha nodded to a floral Vera Bradley bag on a pink settee. “I got everything you listed in your text. I also found your house keys and locked up.”
“Thank you.” Sarah took a few deep breaths. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Samantha put down the brush, found a comb, and started separating Sarah’s hair into three big chunks.
“Were Nate and his men dishonorably discharged?”
The comb paused. “Where did you hear that?”
“My father was a cop. His ex-partner did a background check. Did you know they were charged with the Wakhan Corridor Massacre?”
Samantha started braiding. “Pete told me you suffered a serious setback in your career not long ago.”
“It’s true. I was betrayed by those I trusted the most.”
Samantha clipped the end of one braid and started on the second. “It’s hard to get over something like that. I speak from experience.” Samantha met Sarah’s gaze in the mirror. “I also know that that kind of betrayal shuts people down, stops them from making new relationships, keeps them in their heads with the shouldas, couldas, wouldas.”
Samantha yanked on the braid, and Sarah grimaced. “You’re not answering my question.”
Samantha started the third braid. “Nate and some of his men were accused of the Wakhan Corridor Massacre. That accusation led to a mission that went bad in Afghanistan. That mission led to two A-teams being sent to a POW camp.” She used a small band to tie off the last braid. “They suffered there for two years before being rescued.”
Sarah winced when Samantha pulled the braids and twisted them together. “POW camp?” Hugh hadn’t mentioned that.
Samantha nodded and took some hairpins from a bowl. “From what little Pete has told me, it was beyond brutal. It’s amazing they all survived. Nate suffered the most with seizures and memory loss. He remembers little of his years in the camp. When he returned home, instead of going to a regular military prison with his men, he was sent to a military prison hospital in Maine.”
“Why didn’t he tell me this?”
“It’s classified.”
“Yet you know?”
Samantha had worked the three braids into a complicated knot at the base of Sarah’s neck and started shoving in hairpins. “Pete is tired of the bullshit and confided in me.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“Nate feels responsible for the disastrous Afghanistan mission.”
She opened her eyes. “Why?”
“Because he was in charge that night.” Samantha frowned at Sarah’s hair and added more pins. “I don’t know the details, but Nate’s plan didn’t work out. Then, a few weeks ago, the men who’d stayed behind were dishonorably discharged. Some of them went home to their families, others went to work at Iron Rack’s.”
“Why didn’t Nate tell me?”
“He’s not allowed to. Nate is always kind and considerate to me but also distant and overprotective. Yet, when he watches you, I see something else in his eyes. Something that looks like hope.”
“Oh.” Sarah studied her clutched hands in her lap. She didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s hope when she’d so little of it herself. It was selfish of her, but Nate’s issues seemed much larger than anything she could handle on her own.
Samantha squeezed Sarah’s shoulders. “I have a favor to ask of you. Nate has to leave soon, and I was hoping that you two could…” She blushed.
“Are you asking me to sleep with Nate?”
“No!” Samantha’s hazel eyes widened. “I’d never do that. I’m just asking you, for the next two days, to let your guard down around him. Let him in. It’s hard after the kind of betrayal you’ve had, but developing a connection with you may help him where he’s going.”
“I don’t understand. Why does he need help?”
“He’s not just leaving town.” Samantha’s face changed quickly. Her flush now appeared almost gray. “On Sunday, he’s going back to that prison hospital.”
Sarah’s pounding heart competed with the band’s bass that shook the room. She couldn’t have heard that properly. “He’s what?”
Zack appeared in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame above. His tattooed arms seemed larger up close, and his eyes were darker. “Have either of you seen Nate?”
“Nope,” Samantha said.
Sarah spun around on the stool. Something about Zack’s voice made her anxious. “Why?”
“Nate is missing.”
Chapter 24
Sarah found Nate in the alley. She, Samantha, and Zack were searching the club when a fight broke out near the band. Zack dealt with that while Samantha checked the front entrance and Sarah decided—despite Zack’s order not to—to go out the back door.
Security bulbs highlighted the center of the alley but not the shadows surrounding the club and the brick building next door. Thunder rocked the sky, and a few raindrops hit her face. A storm was coming, and from the flashes of lightning, it promised to be intense.
She searched until a lightning flash exposed the sole of a combat boot. Nate sat against a brick wall, one leg stretched out, the other pulled up with an arm draped over it. His eyes were closed, and his other arm rested on his head. There was a graffiti tag painted nearby: the Prioleau sigil of a skeleton hand clutching a sword with the words sans pitié written below.
Nate’s position screamed defeat, like he’d fought the battle and was the only survivor.
“Nate?” She held her skirt and scrunched down next to him, resting a hand on his thigh.
“My head hurts,” he said harshly. “Oh, God. I’m remembering.”
“What are you remembering?”
He shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m not sure. It’s all in pieces. I know I saw a Fianna warrior bow that night.”
“The night your men were ambushed?”
“On a ridge, at sunset. He wore desert fatigues and tribal clothes with a sword. When he saw me, he bowed.” Nate opened his eyes, took her hand off his thigh, and brought it to his lips. Her legs cramped, and she sat next to him, praying the ground wasn’t as gross as it looked.
He spoke into her hand, as if needing a buffer between them. “We were patrolling, and the mountain next to us exploded in smoke, roars, and chaos. Two rebel attack helos descended. Their twin machine guns fired at my men. Someone on the ground winged RPGs, and the sound blew out my eardrums.”
Sarah didn’t move. Nate still held her hand, but his focus had drifted to some distance over her shoulder. He wasn’t seeing her at all. He was back there, with his men.
“Another helo hovered on the side of the new crater. We were pinned between their guns and more than a hundred tribesmen who believed we were responsible for that massacre.”
He closed his eyes, and she gripped his thigh again. “What happened next?” She wasn’t sure why, but she knew whatever he was remembering was important.
“It was impossible to hear anything over the whirring blades. Everything smelled like oil and gunpowder. I raised my head to check out the situation, and when the man on the hill saw me, he bowed.”
“Nate? Who did this to you? Who set you up for that massacre and that ambush?”
“Remiel Marigny. The man who wants you to solve the cipher.”
* * *
Nate pressed his head against the alley’s brick wall and kept his eyes closed because he didn’t want to face the reality that he’d met Remiel Marigny and seen Fletcher Ames again. Nate also didn’t want to let go of Sarah’s hand. What he really wanted was to drag her onto his lap, bury his hands in her hair, and breathe in her perfume. Something about her kept him steady. The ever-present humming, which had racked his body since leaving the prison hospital, had lessened today.
“Nate?” she whispered. “Let’s go inside. It’s going to rain.”
He nodded but still couldn’t move.
“Wait here.” She withdrew her hand, and he heard her soft footsteps. A few minutes later, maybe it was longer, he felt her kneel next to him again. “We’re going to the apartment.”
He opened his eyes. “No.” It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” another, deeper voice said. Zack stood a few feet away, frowning. “Ty and Cain will take over for you tonight. Samantha will drive you and Sarah to the apartment.”
Nate stood and helped Sarah up. “Is Samantha done with her shift?”
“No. I’m sending her home. This place is a fucking crazy-town.”
Nate kissed Sarah’s hand. He didn’t care about Zack’s dark glare. “I should get Ty and Cain settled.”
Zack scoffed. “We’ll figure it out.”
Despite Zack’s right to be angry, Nate was tired of apologizing for his constant failures. He didn’t even care that Sarah was there to witness it all. “What’s wrong?”
“Why don’t you tell me what the hell happened out here tonight?”
When he couldn’t figure out a lie, he went with the truth. “I met Remiel Marigny.”
Zack’s mouth fell open.
“I’m still not sure what’s going on, but I don’t want to talk about it. And don’t mention it to the others.”
“Fuck—”
Nate held out a hand. “I promise to fill you in as soon as I get some real answers. Can I trust you, brother?”
Zack stared at Sarah until she moved close enough for Nate to put his arm around her shoulders.
Finally, Zack said, “If I don’t get answers from you by noon tomorrow, I’m telling the other men.”
Nate nodded.
“Alright.” Zack headed inside. “I’ll get Sarah’s bags.”
Chapter 25
The apartment was down an alley, in an old building, on the second floor above Dessie’s dress shop. After parking the truck, Samantha had shown them into the apartment before going to her own across the courtyard, above Juliet’s Lily. Pete was meeting her there later.
Sarah was grateful that Calum had had the apartment above Dessie’s freshened up for them. He’d even had food delivered, fresh towels laid out, and new sheets on the large bed in the master bedroom and the smaller one in the spare bedroom. Each bedroom had its own bathroom.
She’d showered, dried her hair, and put on pink PJ pants with a black cami. She’d also thrown on a blue zippered sweatshirt. The AC kept the apartment in arctic temps.
Lightning flashed outside as she boiled water in the galley kitchen. Nate was taking a shower in the smaller bathroom attached to the spare room. He’d offered her the big bed, and when she’d argued with him, he’d just walked away. She still thought it was ridiculous. He was twice her size. He should take the large bed, and she’d be fine on the twin.
She washed and rinsed his handkerchief, the one that he’d use to wrap her ankle and then her arm, and draped it over a dish drying rack. The handkerchief was important to him, and she wanted to make sure she returned it washed and ironed.
She’d asked him to talk about what had happened in the alley, but he’d refused to explain. While frustrated, she also got it. It’d been a long, physically demanding day. She needed sleep, but her mind wouldn’t shut down.
The revelations from Hugh and Samantha had shifted something inside her. At first, she’d been shocked and suspicious because of all of the lies. But after seeing Nate experience a flashback in the alley and then learning about Remiel, she’d made a decision. She was going to help Nate.
She just had no idea how.
She poured hot water over her tea bag and breathed in the scent of lavender essential oil heating in the diffuser. Her burn salve was on the table. Her herbal remedies had given her father some relief, and she hoped they’d do the same for Nate.
Her plan was more emotional and less physical because she wasn’t the type to fall into bed with every hot man she met. Not that she met many. And none of them as handsome as Nate. Her problem with men was she had no idea what she wanted or how to go after it.
She added honey to the teacup and stirred. The infusion darkened the water. Maybe her problem was that she’d never met the right kind of man. A generous, patient, strong, incredibly hot, and handsome man…
“Sarah?”
She turned and dropped the spoon on the floor. She’d shut off all the lamps except one, yet it wasn’t enough to hide Nate. He stood a few feet away, almost naked. And by almost she meant he only wore black sweatpants. The rest of his incredibly hardcore body was unclothed. She’d seen him earlier that day in the gym and when she’d put salve on his arms. But things were different now. The scars, gouges, burns, and bruises carried a darker meaning.
Samantha had mentioned he’d been tortured. Yet, until this moment, Sarah hadn’t fully comprehended what that meant. She picked up the spoon and dropped it into the sink. “Your tea will be ready in a moment.”
“Take your time. Really.”
She smiled and handed him a mug. “I can add extra honey. Augustus would only drink it with four spoonfuls.”
“I don’t need any honey.” Nate frowned into the cup. “I bet Augustus was short, too.”
She chuckled and put the honey away. “Augustus was almost my height.”
“Five-seven?”
“Five-six.” Now that made him smile.
“No wonder your father hated him.” Nate wrinkled his nose. “I also smell lavender.”
She pointed to the glass tray over a votive candle. “Essential oil. I asked Samantha to pack it. I’m diffusing it into the air, and it should help with your headaches. Now drink your tea.”
He tasted the tea until he started coughing.
“You should drink four cups a day.” She turned away so he wouldn’t see her smile. “Augustus drank three.”
Nate threw his head back and downed it. “Done.” He put the cup down with a “blech.”
“It’s not that bad.” While rinsing his cup, she added, “You’ll see a difference in a few days.”
His face drained of color, and she realized what she’d said. But since he hadn’t told her about where he was going, she wasn’t sure if she should bring it up. “Nate—”
“It’s okay, Sarah. Whatever you were going to say, it’s okay.”
She spun around and gripped the counter’s edge behind her. “I know you’re leaving on Sunday. Samantha told me you’re returning to that prison hospital.”
“She shouldn’t have said anything.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. But the movement couldn’t hide his sudden reaction. His erection tented the fleece. He didn’t apologize or turn away. But he wouldn’t look at her either.
The blush started in her toes and rose to her forehead. Her entire body was on fire.
“It’s almost midnight.” He nodded toward the spare bedroom. “We…I…should probably get to bed.”
That sooooooo didn’t help. While she wasn’t ready to throw down with him on the sheets, she was too restless to sleep. Samantha’s request also haunted Sarah’s mind. Maybe she should open up to him more, offer him that sense of connection Samantha believed he’d need. “Would you like me to put some more salve on your arms?”
He swallowed. The muscles in his neck contracted, and she couldn’t help herself. She allowed herself to visually memorize him. He was so beautiful it caused an ache in her lower stomach. The fact that he had to return to the prison hospital had become a physically painful reality. If she was reacting this way, she couldn’t imagine the hell he suffered.
“Come on.” She took his hand and led him to a chair near the couch. Once he was seated, she turned off the last lamp. The only light, from the gas lamp in the courtyard outside, draped the room in shadows. She grabbed a dish towel and the salve container from the table and knelt next to him. He closed his eyes and laid his head back in surrender.
She tried not to stare at his chiseled chest. Was there such a thing as eight-pack abs? Or a ten-pack? Exhaling slowly, she took out a fingerful of salve, held the wrist of the closest arm, and gently rubbed the salve into his healing skin. “I hope my hands aren’t too cold.”
“It feels nice. I’m always hot.”
She focused on dabbing salve on his arms and working it in. Most of his arm had new skin that wasn’t as red as it’d looked earlier. As she moved up, toward his bicep, the muscles beneath his skin contracted. She used a rhythmic touch to make sure she didn’t miss any spots. Once at his shoulder, she used a firmer touch. The skin looked healthier, if a bit more scarred, and the muscles were bunched in knots. She just didn’t want to hurt him.
“You’re not hurting me.”
He could read her mind? She was surprised to see his green eyes open and focused on her. “Your skin…it’s healing.”
