- Home
- Rachel Robinson
Lust in Translation (Harbour Point SEAL Series Book 1) Page 14
Lust in Translation (Harbour Point SEAL Series Book 1) Read online
Page 14
“Get away from the doors! They’re rigged. The building is rigged.” His eyes grow wide and a look I’ve never seen before transforms his face. He’s scared. Leo Callaway is frightened.
I don’t process what that means even though his words are as clear as a bell in the silence between shots. I freeze as I watch him turn his handgun toward the right and fire shots at someone or something. I can’t draw my eyes away from his face. Maybe because if it’s the last thing I see, I want it to be something honest. A truth in the bed of lies I sleep in. He turns back to me, the gun down by his side now, gaze boring into mine as he closes the distance between us. He knocks into me so hard I lose my breath completely. He grabs me by the waist, hoists me over his shoulder and runs, a jerky back and forth pounding on my stomach as I dangle like a limp rag.
The rapid-fire pops sound again and Leo tosses me next to a dumpster, directly into a pile of thick snow. “Stay hidden,” he screams, disappearing from view. The mottled grey sky continues to dump snow as more pops join in the symphony. I shake uncontrollably, my hands and legs quivering as shock seeps into my body and takes residence in the driver’s seat. I pull myself closer to the dumpster and tuck my snow-covered knees up against my chest.
My body is jolting, shaking, and my crying a jagged chorus with every breath I take. Leo slides around the side of the building and out of my view. The building, the one I just tried to enter, the one he just crept around, explodes loudly into a dark orange fury of flames. The heat beats against my face, but I’m far enough away—safe from whatever bomb was detonated. I stand, using the dumpster to support me. “Leo,” I scream.
I call his name over and over. The shots have stopped now that the fire is raging, so I leave my hiding spot and head toward where I last saw Leo, keeping a safe distance from the flames incinerating a section of the building. I fall down three times before I make it to the side of the building. I’m caked with snow and I’m dragging my heavy snow boots. A SEAL I don’t recognize at first commands me to stop. Glancing quickly, I realize it’s Long and he has a long-barreled gun pointed directly at me. I put my hands up. “It’s me, Kendall Simmons. Leo. I need to find him. Find him,” I rasp out, and I realize he probably didn’t understand a word I said because my voice is quaking. “I came in with Leo Callaway,” I try again. “Please help me!”
Long lowers the gun and rushes over to me. “Fucking hell. Where did you last see him? When the power was flickering, they put goddamn IEDs all over the fucking base.” He goes on about how they’ve taken the terrorists down, but I barely register what he’s saying because I’m consumed with worry for Leo.
I see a figure moving in between the buildings. “I see him!” I call, taking off into a jog, my limbs suddenly working the way they’re supposed to. I hear Long close behind me. The heat from the flames intensifies as I get closer to the man dragging his body through the snow. “Leo,” I scream, recognizing his snow jacket. I say his name over and over. Long gets to him first and picks him up, grunting, and makes his way back to the dumpster. I follow along, trying my best to keep up.
He sets him down in front of the dumpster and I fall to my knees next to him. His eyes are closed and his breath is pushing clouds of steam from his mouth. Black ash mars all of his exposed skin. “Can you hear me?” I ask, shaking his shoulder.
“Stay here. The bomb squad is sweeping the area. I need to find a medic.”
I nod, and take Leo’s hand in both of mine. I blow on it as it feels frozen. He opens his eyes and looks at me, and his gaze flicks to the fire. “Are you okay?” Those are his first words. He narrows his eyes after he speaks, confused.
I choke on emotion and release his hand to cup his cheeks. There’s no blood on him anywhere that I can see. I release his face to pat his arms and legs. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
He doesn’t respond to my question. He sits, dazed and staring at my face.
“Kendall.” He grabs my hand on his leg. He repeats my name twice more.
Tears stream down my face. Now the emotion is from relief. Relief that he’s whole.
“I love you,” I say, meeting his gaze.
He smiles weakly, his chin dropping to his chest. It looks like he might pass out. “Say it again.”
I confess it again, but this time his gaze locks on my mouth.
I clear the tears from my eyes, waiting for him to reply. His chest rises and falls more hurriedly. I don’t expect his reply.
“I can’t hear you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
LEO
“ARE YOU FUCKING MY wife?” Adam asks, spinning from his closed office door to face me. His tone isn’t enraged like I’d expect it to be with such a rash accusation. It’s a firm ask. A man seeking information.
I’m under his roof, eating dinner at his table. I owe the man honesty. “The fact you have to ask me that question tells more than my answer does.” I throw myself down in a leather chair in the corner of the room and eye a bottle of booze sitting on his desk. I could go for multiple, stiff mother fucking drinks right now.
“That may be, but I’m still asking it.” Adam approaches and leans against his desk. “Are you?”
I widen my legs and lean over to place my elbows on them, steepling my fingers. “I’m not, man.” I shake my head. “I know what it looks like.” I know what I would think if my wife was spending time with a man like me. “We are just friends. We’ve always only been friends.” Adam hates that Kendall knows me from before. Before him. His face contorts with agony. Ah, so he wishes I was fucking her. He needs me to be the reason. I can read him like a book. Average people can’t hide their feelings like I can.
He drags a hand through his hair and exhales. “I don’t understand it.”
Kendall wants to fuck me. I want to fuck Kendall. That’s a technicality I won’t broach, but it would help in his understanding—if I offered that information. He continues, “She is a different person when you’re around. It doesn’t make any sense at all. If I was a betting man, I’d have put it all on red that she was messing around with you.”
I lift and lower my shoulders. Nonchalant. I’m a man who isn’t a threat in the least. “Maybe she just needs our friendship. You sound like you wish she was having an affair.”
“I do. I fucking do. It’s an impossible situation to be in love with a person and also hate them at the same time.”
I chuckle. “Isn’t that marriage?”
He grimaces. I put up my palms. “Sorry. Sorry. Now isn’t the time for jokes.”
Adam groans. “I’m trying to be a good guy and she’s making it unbearable. She’s getting through the mass exodus of grief over the loss of the baby, or she says she is, but she’s still avoiding me, and is miserable when she’s not in your goddamn presence. How is that a friendship she needs? She doesn’t need friendship, she needs you.” He jabs a finger in my direction. My heart swells in an irrational way. It’s not every day the husband of the woman you love admits his wife loves you more. “You know her,” he adds. “The cat made her so ecstatic. You knew it.”
Just like I told him it would when I talked to him the first time. “It was a lucky suggestion,” I say.
“Bullshit. You know her.”
“I’ve known her in the past.”
Adam folds his arms across his chest. I stay seated, giving the illusion of him having control of this situation and conversation. “Do you feel anything for Kendall other than friendship? Honesty here. It’s important for what I need to ask of you next.”
I swallow hard. “Am I attracted to her? Is that what you want to know? Look at her. That’s a stupid question, dude. All men are attracted to her.” I hear Juliet and Kendall talking in the kitchen and try to speak louder so Adam doesn’t key in.
“You know what I’m asking. Looks aside. Do you have feelings for her?”
I meet his gaze dead on. “Never in my wildest dreams did I ever envision having a conversation like this.”
“You think I did? That this is a fucking conversation I relish in? We’re talking about my wife. The woman who made vows to me.” Adam hikes a thumb at himself.
“When you put it that way,” I say, trailing off. “Just friends.” I scratch my head and internally wince at my lie.
“She’s in love with you, Callaway,” Adam says. “Not like ‘oh, I love you, you’re a great guy and would make a great husband and daddy.’ She looks at you like a savior. She loves you like she can’t live without you for another second. You have to see it, you’re not blind. The way she orbits around you. The way her posture changes when you merely look at her. I’d fathom a guess it’s been over since the moment she laid eyes on you back in Bronze Bay. This isn’t a love I can compete with. Not that I even want to try, but here the fuck I am stuck in a marriage with a ghost and her obsession.”
Fidgeting in my seat, I eye his booze again, avoiding his gaze. “What is it you want me to admit?” The awkward atmosphere ratchets up to an unbearable thickness. “That I’m in love with her?” I throw up my arms. “Sure. I am. But that doesn’t matter, because despite what you’ve heard, I live by a code of ethics and I’d never fuck around with a married woman no matter how long I’ve loved her. How I feel doesn’t matter in the least. She’s yours. I’m her friend. I have the ability to compartmentalize my feelings for her and give her friendship…and bury the rest.” What did I just admit to? My stomach knocks back and forth with my confession. I might actually be sick.
Adam hangs his head. “I fucking knew it. Thank you for telling me.”
“What does it change?”
He shakes his head. “It changes everything. I love her, don’t get me wrong, but I need her to come to her senses. I need for her to come to the realization herself. However that may happen.”
“What exactly are you saying? You can’t dangle me like a dog toy in front of her.”
He grins. It’s sad. “I won’t have to. She already loves you. You love her. It’s a matter of her realizing she doesn’t want me like she wants you. I don’t look like a bad guy in this mess if it happens organically.” He puts his hand on a stack of papers as a tortured look crosses his face. I’d fathom a guess what those papers are.
“You’re going to have to spell this out a little clearer for me.” I cross my leg on the other side, uneasy with the direction the conversation is taking. I knew to expect something awful where he put me on the spot, but we’ve bulldozed over that and entered uncharted, fucked-up territory.
He slinks into his desk chair and rolls over to face me. “Do you know what an asshole I’d look like if I left her before she’s ready? After what she’s been through? I’m not an evil person. I want what’s best for her. I love her. I don’t love us together, though. She doesn’t either. All I’m asking is that you keep being her friend. I think that’s all it will take for her to gain the courage to take the next step in her life.”
“Be her friend?” I narrow my eyes, cocking my head. It can’t be that simple. Not when everything pertaining to her is so complicated.
He runs a finger across his lips. “I already thought you were fucking her, honestly. This makes it easier. She won’t feel guilty when she finally sees the light.”
“This whole thing is fucked up. Most people just sit down, have a conversation, and file paperwork.”
He shakes his head. “This is different. The situation is completely in no man’s land. No one knows what’s right or wrong or what timeframe we need to adhere to. It’s fucking dreadful. I’ll know without a shadow of a doubt that I’ve given all I can to this marriage when it ends.”
Not if. When. “You’ll let her go so easily,” I say, choking up a bit. “Wouldn’t a husband fight for his wife? This isn’t natural.”
“I fought. I did. Now that I realize I’m not fighting against her depression, or her grief, I’m fighting against her love. That has to be the end. It’s the only way either of us can move on.”
Pressing my lips together, I say, “I can be her friend. Just that.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Everything will work out then. Try not to annoy me too much in the meantime, yeah? My manhood is the size of your dick at the moment.”
I smirk. “Ten inches and stronger than steel?”
He chuckles sadly. “No, the size of a dust mite, asshole. Get out of here. I need to use the bathroom before I go back out there.” Adam waves an arm to the door, and Juliet and Kendall’s voices continue echoing from the kitchen.
I nod. I’m confused. I’m also happy as fuck. “Why though? I still don’t understand why you don’t try to keep her?” I would. She’s everything. Everything good and right in my life.
Adam’s eyes turn down the corner. “Ah, you might have a bit to learn about Kendall yet.” He places both hands in his pockets and shrugs, closing his eyes. “That’s how you lose her.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
A POUND OF FLESH
LEO
SNOW FALLS SOFTLY FROM the sky. It floats around her face, sticking in her long lashes. The bow of her lip moves as she screams something directed to someone over my right shoulder. Her chin, the perfect curve to end her face, quivers. Kendall’s gaze finds mine once more. I can see the raging fire reflecting in her big, beautiful eyes. “Are you okay?” My throat hurts, so I know the words were spoken even though all I can hear is incessant ringing. I wince.
Her hands are on my body, a soft pressure I can feel even though I’m numbed and frigid. She might answer, but I’m still bottomed out from the blast, and I’m so grateful she’s okay, all I can do is stare at her beautiful face. “Kendall,” I say, but it’s lost in the echo chamber. “Kendall. Kendall.” I try twice more.
I know she hears me, because tears cut a path down her cheeks as a response.
Her lips turn up and she says something. Her smile. Her fucking smile. I’d kill for it—do anything to make it light up her face. The ringing is still too loud, and a niggle of annoyance creeps in. What did she say that makes her smile that way?
“Say it again,” I growl.
This time I watch her lips, my breathing turning desperate because I’ve never been tagged this long. The ringing in my ears comes and goes. One other time when I was close to an IED explosion I was fucked for maybe a minute or two. This time, it’s different. This time there isn’t noise behind the faint ringing. There’s deep silence.
Kendall’s mouth moves slowly, I read her lips. “I love you.”
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I meet her gaze, alarmed. She told me she loves me for the first time and I didn’t hear it. My chest moves up and down quickly as I try to catch my breath. “I can’t hear you.”
Kendall puts her hands on the sides of my face and nods. I shake my head as a reply. “Nothing,” I say. She lays a palm on my chest, and that serves to calm me down a bit. At least I can feel that. I can see her face. She’s okay. Focus on that, Leo. Focus on her face. Breathe. I can’t hear my breaths. Am I breathing okay? Enough? Her hand is moving up and down so I must be breathing. What is happening? Bringing my hands up, I cover my ears and flinch when the ringing morphs into a buzz.
Kendall yells. I can see the way her neck muscles move. She’s calling for someone. Frantic. She loves me.
She loves me.
The scarf around her neck loosens and the wind blows it. Without noise and with my mind hazy from the fucking explosion, this whole scene looks like something out of a movie. Unrealistic. Not my life. Not hers for sure. I grab her wrist, and she looks at me.
“Help,” I say.
Kendall opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it. She points at me with her free hand and says, “You.” Then she takes that hand away and makes the universal sign for okay with her fingers. Her head nods furiously after.
I nod back even though I’m not fucking okay. Not in the least. Long comes over, and he has Fulton, a medic, with him. Kendall backs away when the men grab me from under my arms and haul me to
ward the medical building. The bomb squad must have cleared the buildings if they’re bringing me inside. When they place my feet on the ground, my knees buckle. Long and Fulton carry me the rest of the way. Their mouths are moving, and yet I can’t hear anything. Not one syllable. “Where is Kendall?” I say, looking at Fulton.
He just nods. She told them I can’t hear right now. It’s then I see the pity. Fuck. Fuck. The ringing will stop. The silence will cut away any second and noise will return. It has to. I was close to the fucking building when it went off, but I killed the motherfucker who was lurking in the corridor who was trying to shoot Kendall. When I shot him, he fell back, and that triggered the explosion. That was his plan. He was counting on me saving the girl. Why wouldn’t I? I’m a fucking love-sick idiot.
The hospital ward is busy as we filter inside. I try to throw their arms off me to stand on my own two feet, but my legs still don’t work the way they’re supposed to. My brothers catch me and usher me onto the hospital bed being wheeled toward me by a nurse with a severe look on her face. “Do I look that bad?” I ask Long.
He smirks and then helps me sit on the bed. He lifts my legs on and pushes down on my chest so I’ll rest against the back. He doesn’t lay me down, because fuck knows I have a concussion working. Long and Fulton look on as the nurse wheels me back into the treatment area and in to a room. The morose look on their faces doesn’t help my mood. Kendall rushes into my room, her coat and scarf hanging over one arm.
She says something, but then shakes her head sadly.
I smile. “You can hear me,” I say.
She nods.
“Did they secure the base?”
She nods.
“Did anyone di…get hurt?”
She nods, brown hair falling into her face, eyes rimmed with red from crying.
“SEALs?”
Kendall shakes her head, and immediately looks to the door. Relief washes over me. The doctor comes in, dressed in uniform. I didn’t hear him coming and she did. He looks at me and says something to Kendall. Watching her mouth, I can make out some of the words she says. Lip reading is hard as fuck. You don’t really move your mouth too much when you’re speaking quickly.