Page 71 of Fighting for Valor
“You’re safe. The rest…we can talk about the rest tomorrow.” Ripper brushes a gentle kiss to my lips. Maybe it’s the drugs or even wishful thinking, but there’s the promise of so much more in that kiss. Maybe even forever.
I don’t want to let him off the hook. He needs something. Forgiveness? Reassurance? Acceptance? If I weren’t so banged up, exhausted, and still lightheaded from my heart going haywire for half the day, I’d give him all three—and more.
Instead, I wriggle a little closer and whisper, “You’re safe, too.”
Ripper
My phone rings a little before 7:00 a.m. With Cara in my arms, I slept almost six hours straight. In my own bed. She was so chilled, I didn’t even open the balcony doors. Reaching back to the bedside table, I check the screen. Ry.
“Hang on a minute,” I say quietly. Easing myself out of bed, I freeze when Cara makes a small noise and Charlie raises his head, but I motion for the dog to stay with her, and he does. He’s getting a steak today. Jessup’s backup found our van and let him out, but he must have bolted, because there isn’t a scratch on him.
By the time we got outside with Parr, he was barking like crazy close to where we found Cara. If he wasn’t a police dog in his last life, he should have been.
I’m only wearing a pair of loose shorts, and when I slip outside onto the balcony, it almost feels like fall. A cool breeze raises goosebumps all along my arms. “What is it?” I ask.
“Trevor’s landing in two hours. He wants to meet with you and Cara at eleven. Along with Commander Austin Pritchard from JSOC.”
Tension stiffens my shoulders, and I stare out at the lake. “You trust this guy? I mean, fuck. He helped get me out. But according to JSOC…”
“Jackson Richards died six years ago,” Ryker finishes for me. After a long pause, he sighs. “Dax vouched for the guy. And we’ll both be there. No one’s taking you into custody. Not without going through us.”
“That’s suicide, Ry.” Running a hand through my hair, I wish I’d opened up to him a long time ago. Shared even a fraction of what happened to me. “If that’s what Pritchard’s here to do, you let him do it. Understand?”
“Rip—”
“No. You’ve been protecting me since we landed back in the States. Don’t think for a minute I don’t appreciate every fucking thing you’ve done. Talked to the church staff? Set me up in this apartment? Gave me enough of that bastard’s blood money so I didn’t have to work until I was ready? Hell, even the shrink, the doctor last night who treated Cara. But you will not throw your life away for me.”
“We’re brothers, Rip. You know that.” Ryker’s voice takes on a strain I haven’t often heard since I got back. “Dax and I…we’d die for you.”
My eyes burn, and I sink down onto the single chair in the corner of the balcony. “I know. And I’d do the same for either of you. But you and Dax—you deserve that double wedding. Think of Wren. And Evianna. Whatever happens today, don’t interfere. Promise me.”
“You know I can’t—”
“Promise me. Or I’m hanging up right now and I’ll disappear. Forever.”
“Fucker,” he mutters. “I promise. Dax and I will stand down.”
“Then I’ll be there. Cara’s still asleep. If she doesn’t want to go, will you…?”
“Cara who?”
I try three times before I can force a response over the lump lodged in my throat. “You’re… I… Fuck it. Ry, you and Dax? You’re family. I…uh…”
“Say it. I can’t. Only to Wren.”
“Love you, brother.”
“Same here, Rip.”
When I slip back inside, Charlie’s pressed up against Cara like he’s going to guard her from the whole world. I ease a hip onto the bed and stroke a hand over his side. “You’re pretty amazing, buddy.”
“Ripper?” Cara starts to stretch, then winces. “Shit.”
“What hurts?”
After a groan, her eyelids flutter open. “Everything.”
I lean over Charlie to cup her cheek. “The doc left one more Vicodin. You want it?”
