Wounded Courage (Lucky Thirteen) Page 5

  The outside door opened, and Hardy came in carrying food. “Hey. She awake yet?”

  “Yeah, she’s awake. And not happy.”

  Hardy shrugged, obviously not as concerned as I was. “We knew she wouldn’t be. If it was up to her, she’d probably be halfway across the world by now.”

  “You ever wonder if we’re doing the right thing with her?”

  Hardy swallowed, pausing a moment as he set the food down on the table behind the couch. “She’s my sister, Murphy.”

  “I know that. But protocol says—”

  “I’m not sending her off to be interrogated by the NSA or the CIA or the FBI or any other group with three letters.” Hardy faced me, sheer determination in his gaze. “She stays here. With me.” Hardy didn’t normally contradict me, but I couldn’t blame him for that.

  I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if it was my family in this position. Though really, Addison and Chris Hardy were as close to family as I got. I wasn’t about to acknowledge my parents, or anyone else that had a hand in my upbringing. It was a wonder I was sane.

  “I know. I agree, or I would have said something earlier.”

  Hardy ran both hands over his face and paced the length of the room. “I’m sorry, Murph. I’m just… this is fucking stressful. What the hell is she doing with Alex Giroux?”

  “I know.” I was repeating myself, but I didn’t know what else to say. I wasn’t prepared to handle emotions, especially from Chris Hardy. “Listen, I promised her I’d keep her safe, that I wouldn’t let anyone imprison her, provided she promised not to try to escape again.”

  Chris frowned. “You know you don’t have complete control here. If any of the officers visit and see her…”

  “Yes, I’m aware. But if I’m getting results, I think that’ll go a long way to getting her released and sent home rather than being arrested.”

  Our attention was drawn to the side, where Addison’s door creaked open. She steeled her shoulders when she realized we were aware of her. “I thought I heard voices. I figured I’d try the door and see if you’d reneged on our agreement yet.”

  “Goddamn it, Addison!”

  “I’m joking,” she chuckled. “Come on, Murphy, live a little.” Her gaze wandered over the bags of food on the table and then back to us. She met my eyes, but averted her gaze quickly. “Any of that for me?”

  “Of course. There’s a lady that makes awesome humitas not too far from here. I thought you might like some.”

  “I don’t know what those are, but I’ll try anything at this point.” She nodded and headed to the table. She rummaged through the bags.

  She grabbed what she wanted and sat down on the other side of the couch from me. Far enough that I couldn’t touch her. I noticed she was also trying not to let her leg bother her, but it had only been a few days. Gunshot wounds took weeks to mend right, more if it had been shells that bounced around inside her body and tore up her flesh internally. Luckily, White had said it wasn’t the case with hers. Still, I was surprised she could walk on it at all. Her tenacity and perseverance was impressive.

  She sat back against the couch, the food in her lap while she ate, content to completely ignore us. I glanced at Chris, who shrugged. So, she’d agreed to stay, but I didn’t think for a second she wasn’t going to find another way to fight us.

  Addison

  It was a little awkward sitting there with my brother in the room. I was a little sad that I hadn’t kept yup with him. But the awkwardness didn’t come from not seeing him. It came from the very obvious fact that I was a problem. I was stubborn, and I didn’t give up on what I believed in. But the thing was… the whole thing was laughable. I was one hundred and twenty-eight pounds of trouble in their opinion. But they’d taught me to be this way. They’d spent childhood forcing me to be independent and take care of myself. They couldn’t get mad at me for that.

  The common room. That was the room I’d come into. It was well lived in. Almost like a real apartment. They spent a lot of time here, if I were to judge by the well-read gun magazines, and fitness books lying about on the coffee table.

  There was a TV in the corner, which was strange. I wondered what they watched when they were in here. Behind me, there was a table with four chairs arranged around it, almost like a dining room table. But I knew they had a separate chow hall, so maybe they played games there or something.

  The only thing missing were windows. You never really notice windows until they aren’t there anymore. It triggered a low level panic within me that I had to fight to keep it from barreling to the surface. I’d had claustrophobia as a child, and sometimes it still flared up. Considering the crazy tension in the room, I was feeling it.

  But this was my current life, stuck in underground hell with my brother and his best friend.

  “You can’t stay silent forever.”

  Speak of the devil.

  I could be silent if I damn well pleased. I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. I wasn’t really that angry, but honestly, I was tired of being dictated to.

  He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Addy. You have to talk sooner or later.”

  “I will not say anything that might incriminate me. And you can’t make me.”

  “Nothing is going incriminate you here. You living here for now—”

  I turned my head toward him, slow and deliberate, but the expression on my face was enough to stop him from finishing that sentence. “Let’s get one thing straight, Chris. I don’t live here. I live in a really gorgeous house, with a nice view and a private beach, and a lush expense account. I may have agreed not to run for now, but I still don’t live here.”

  “That was Alex Giroux’s house.” Chris spat out, his disgust apparent.

  “Yep. Sure was.” With Alex’s death, I owned it all. Chris obviously had not found out that tidbit yet. No doubt that was coming soon, and I wanted to be gone before that happened.

  Chris sighed and sat down on the couch next to me. I ignored him. “Addy… How did you meet Alex Giroux? How did you even get sucked into this mess?”

  Twisting to look at my brother, it was hard to realize that we were twins. Sure we had the same grey-blue eyes, the same sunny hair, the same facial structure, though his were more angular and masculine than mine. But we were as different as night and day inside. He was the saint, and I was the fuck-up.

  “Oh, are we due for another interrogation?” I folded my hands together and held them out. “Shouldn’t you go get your handcuffs? You know, let’s make it all official-like.”

  “Fuck it all, Addy, would you stop being a brat?” My brother growled.

  “Why don’t you stop being an asshole?”

  “Children!” Both of us stopped and turned toward the sound. I think we’d both forgotten that Murphy was there. It wasn’t hard. He wasn’t talking. He just let us argue. Murphy leaned over the back of the couch between us so we had to look at him. “Do I need to put you two in time-out?”

  “I’m already fucking there,” I shot back, and leaned back into the couch. I crossed my arms in a moderate sulk. My goal wasn’t to antagonize my brother. That was counter-intuitive to actually getting out of the prison he’d put me in. But with him, it just seemed to happen. It always just seemed to happen.

  With Murphy, it was a different story. His eyebrow quirked up, his gaze shifting from me to Chris. The calm, silent way he commanded obedience and silence bled the fight out of me. I didn’t understand how he did that. He walked in and all I wanted to do was what he wanted me to do. And that ticked me off.

  “Can’t leave you two alone for two minutes without the bickering. It’s like we’re ten again.” He shook his head.

  “But when we were ten, you were twelve.”

  “Shut it,” Murphy snapped at me. He rounded on Chris. “And you damn well know better.”

  Chris’s expression sunk into sullenness. We ate in silence for a long time. I didn’t know what they were thinking about. I would have to talk to them eventually. And
then my fate would be sealed, if it wasn’t already. I just wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

  Murphy grabbed his own food, handed a container to Chris, and settled between Chris and me, like a parent dealing with unruly children. I rolled my eyes. “So how much longer do I have to stay here?”

  “Anxious to get somewhere?” Chris asked, coldly.

  “Yeah, somewhere with Netflix,” I shot back. “Do you know what it feels like? To have your freedom ripped away from you?” I glanced at both of them. Chris avoided my eyes, but Murphy… his made me feel naked. “I don’t think you guys get it. I don’t think that you could.”

  “Tell me about it.” Murphy’s words weren’t a command, but it was so much like one I just obeyed without thinking.

  “A week ago, I had a boyfriend, a gorgeous house, a fantastic expense account. One night, I see Devyn with Alex’s sister, and now I’ve lost everything. Do you know how that feels?” From the look on their faces, I guessed not. “And now I’m here, and I can’t leave. I miss my life. It’s only been a couple of days, and I’m going crazy here.”

  Murphy looked back at Chris, and something passed between them. They were always doing that. It was like some sort of psychic SEAL connection between the two of them, except that they’d done it all our lives. I tossed the half empty box of food on the coffee table and stood up to leave.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my room.”

  “You’re not done eating.” Murphy’s tone left no room argue, but I was done being Ms. Obedient.

  “Not hungry,” I lied.

  “Yes, you are.”

  I growled, my irritation growing with the man. His mouth turned up in a slow smirk.

  “Come sit back down.”

  “No.”

  “Will you please come sit back down and eat?”

  He always did that. He’d be all commanding, and then suddenly, he’d pull out something nice like that question. I glanced at Chris, who took a bite of his food and wisely remained silent.

  “Addison?” God I liked my name on his lips. I wanted to hear it again.

  “I…” I trailed off because I had no idea what I’d been about to say. “I can’t.”

  Murphy punched Chris in the leg. Chris grunted and yelled, “Hey! What the fuck was that for?”

  “For being an asshole. Now apologize.”

  “I didn’t—” Chris growled but didn’t finish the sentence. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

  “To her.”

  Chris glared at Murphy. “You’re serious? You want me to apologize to Addison?” His tone of voice made it sound like that was the most ridiculous thing in the entire world.

  “Yes. She’s the one that’s been displaced from home here.” His pointed look made Chris frown.

  Chris rolled his eyes. “Fine. Addison, I’m sorry.” He stood up, grabbed his food, and added, “I’m out. I’ll eat up at the watch station.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and left the room, food in hand.

  The door slammed shut, the metal reverberating through the entire lounge area.

  ~*~*~

  Several moments of silence passed before Murphy said anything. “You don’t have to antagonize him, you know. He’s trying.”

  I sunk down on to the couch again. The fight was gone again. My intention hadn’t been to chase my brother out. I was just frustrated and annoyed and I didn’t know how to handle it anymore.

  “You guys don’t have to hold me here.”

  “We kinda do.” He was unapologetic. I had to give him props for honesty. “I’ll level with you, Addison. You weren’t being truthful with us before. I know it. Chris knows it. Pretty soon, LT will know it. You need to level with us. Let me help you before it gets more complicated.”

  I bit my lip and leaned back against the couch. That was interesting. Will know? Did that mean that his commanding officer didn’t know about me yet? Murphy took my now empty container from my hands and set it on the table. His arm stretched out over the back of the couch behind me, bringing him closer. His eyes searched mine, for what I didn’t know. But whatever it was, I wasn’t sure if he found it or not.

  “What do you want me to say, Murphy?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.” He didn’t move back, and I didn’t want him to. “Why don’t you ever use my first name?”

  That was right out of left field Why did he want to know that all of a sudden? “I do use your first name.”

  “No, you don’t. You haven’t. Not since I met you.” He shook his head. “Why is that? Is there something wrong with my name?”

  “You’re not an Eamon to me,” I replied. “You’re Murphy. It’s who you are.”

  His brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure if it was confusion or irritation. Did he not like me using his last name? Everyone called him Murphy. And if I called him Eamon, it would make me too close to him. I needed distance, if only to maintain my sanity.

  “You could call me Hardy,” I offered.

  He laughed and shook his head. “No. I call your brother Hardy. That would just be weird.”

  “Oh.” My cheeks flushed with heat.. There was little other meaning I could take from that. The heat in his eyes cemented that hypothesis into theory. “Why would it be weird?”

  “Because there are things I’d like to do with you that I would never do with your brother.” As if punctuation, he leaned in, his breath smelling of cilantro and beef. His cologne enveloped my senses, surrounding me like a cocoon. His lips brushed my cheek. “I like your name. Addison. It’s smart. It’s sensual.”

  I liked him saying it. His voice was velvety and sexy, my inner thighs tingled with the beginnings of desire I had no business feeling. His hand, the one that wasn’t behind me, landed on my thigh furthest from him. The sharp intake of breath was involuntary. I couldn’t help it and my breath shuddered unevenly. His hand was hot, his palm leaving sparks across my skin. There was no mistaking his intentions now, as if I could have before. As if I’d wanted to at all.

  Traitors that my hands were, I found them fisting his t-shirt, and pulling him closer. But instead of kissing me, his lips made contact with my neck, soft little droplets of kisses covering my skin with each movement of his head. A tiny whimper of appreciation escaped me. I felt his smirk, even as his hand slid up my uninjured thigh and squeezed lightly. I’d have died to have this attention when I was younger. My teenage love for Murphy hadn’t ever really died. I’d buried it when I realized he hadn’t wanted me, and that was where it needed to stay.

  “Addison.” He needed to quit saying my name. I was dying here. I wasn’t thinking right. This guy made me want to spill all my secrets to him. He made me want to cling to him and never let go. I wanted him to touch me, every inch of me. The heat of his hand hyper-sensitized me, sent sharp tendrils of desire through every single nerve in my body as he stroked the flesh of my thigh. And yet, there I was, tilting my head to give him better access to my mouth, in absolute opposition to common sense.

  The first touch of his lips on mine was electrifying, burning straight through me. Someone whimpered. I think it was me. I was fighting a losing battle, one I needed to nip in the bud before it got out of control. But I already knew it was out of control. Regret coursing through me, I pushed him away from me. At first, he didn’t move, but when I got more insistent, he pulled back.

  “We can’t…” I trailed off, but he knew. “I can’t.” He didn’t say anything but I owed him something, at least. I hadn’t discouraged him before now, and we’d been dancing around our flirtations since I’d come there. “I just lost Alex. I have—had been with him for months. I can’t just forget that.”

  “We predate Alex and you know it,” Murphy said, but he didn’t try to come closer. He stayed back, and I was thankful, because I didn’t think I had the wherewithal to push him away again. “You didn’t love him.”

  “You have a lot of gall, telling me what I felt for my… boyfriend.”

/>   “When you trip over calling someone your boyfriend, you know it’s not love. What we have, what we’ve always had, it’s special. It’s important.”

  Special? Important? That shook loose the spell he had over me. I slid away, trying to ignore both the pain in my leg and in my heart. I pushed to my feet and backed away from him, bracing my weight on my good leg as much as I could. I’d left the crutch in the other room.

  I pulled in old hurt, let it fester in the old anger of his ignorance where I was concerned. I couldn’t fault him for everything. I’d never told him how I felt when we were younger, how apparently, I still felt. I hadn’t allowed myself to think of it in a long time.

  “No. You’re not doing this to me, Murphy. You’re not guilting me into this. You passed us by. Not me.”

  “I’m not trying to guilt you into anything,” he said.

  “Bullshit, you’re not. If you ever thought it was special or important, you would have done something about it years ago. Because that’s who you are, Murphy. You don’t run away from things you think are important. You’re right there, demanding it. And you know what?” Tears formed on my lower lid, blurring my vision. “You never did. And I moved on.”

  I couldn’t stay there, and let him continue.

  I swallowed hard, that lump building like the center was a powerful magnet. I had to get out of there. I had to not be around him, just to save my mind. “I’m going back to bed.”

  “It’s only six in the evening.”

  “Yeah, well, I have a hole in my leg and sedatives in my system thanks to you.” The leg wound wasn’t actually his fault, but I really needed to blame him. I cursed as tears spilled over my cheeks. Fuck. I hated crying, and I’d done nothing but since I’d been there. I turned away from Murphy and limped my way toward my new bedroom. As soon as I shut the door, I leaned my back against the cool metal, sliding down to the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest, ignoring the sharp pain of my wound, and rested my head against them. It wasn’t just Murphy. It was everything. Everything was wrong.