Maya Banks - The Darkest Hour

She arranged the bacon next to the eggs and then scooped the grits into a large bowl. After everything was set on the bar, she took a seat across from Frank and Rusty and gestured for them to dig in.

“Will you be going after breakfast then?” Marlene asked as she buttered a biscuit.

Rusty’s lip curled derisively. “You want me to go, don’t you?”

“If I wanted you to go, I’d say so. I’m not one to mince words.”

“Got that right,” Frank muttered.

She shot him a quelling look. Something that resembled a smile skirted Rusty’s mouth.

“I’d like for you to stay if that’s what you want,” Marlene said to Rusty. “But if you accept my offer, you’re going to have to be honest with me. About everything. And there are rules.”

Frank snorted and Marlene glared at him again.

“Don’t get her started on the rules,” Frank said with a resigned sigh. “Just nod your head and say yes ma’am.”

Marlene leveled a stare at Rusty. “Does that sound like something you can live with?”

Rusty squirmed under Marlene’s scrutiny. She picked at her food and toyed with a piece of bacon with her fork. “What if you change your mind?”

Marlene willed herself not to react to the fear and insecurity in the child’s voice. And she was a child. A child trying very hard to be an adult, but a baby nonetheless.

“I won’t change my mind, Rusty. As long as you abide by my rules and respect my house, then we’ll get along just fine.”

For a long moment Rusty stared at Marlene as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Then she glanced sideways at Frank.

“Then I’ll stay. For now,” she added hastily.

THANKS to losing his goddamn earpiece, Ethan was paired with Donovan as they searched the heavy undergrowth. Ahead, Donovan stopped and held a hand to his ear.

“Say again, Sam, you’re breaking up.”

Donovan turned to Ethan as he listened intently.

“Roger that. We’re on our way.”

Donovan fiddled with his GPS unit, stared down intently and then looked up as if determining the direction to go.

“What the hell did he say?” Ethan demanded.

“They found Rachel. Garrett’s carrying her back. They’ll meet us at the chopper.”

P.J. broke through a snarl of leaves, her rifle seemingly too big for her small frame.

“Let’s make tracks,” she said. “Chopper is two and a half miles over that ridge. Going to be a bitch on our current trajectory.”

“You got an easier way?” Donovan asked.

“Nope.”

Ethan strode ahead, not waiting for them to hash out the best route.

“Wait up, man,” Donovan called. “Since I’m the one with the GPS, you might want to let me take the lead. Otherwise you’re going to end up in Venezuela.”

“Then go already,” Ethan snarled. “We’ve had enough delays already.”

They stalked through the jungle in silence, eyes and ears alert to any noise or movement. Though they’d crippled the small village with their surprise attack, they were still outnumbered, and when the enemy had time to regroup, they’d be on KGI’s asses.

Ethan wanted to be the hell out of Colombia with his wife well before that happened.

All the breath left his chest, leaving him deflated. His pace slowed as the events of the day caught up to him. He hadn’t even been able to revel in the discovery of Rachel—alive—before all hell had broken loose. Even now she was with his brothers, and he was dependent on them to get her safely to the helicopter. Not that he didn’t trust them. He trusted them with his life—and Rachel’s. But he ached to be the one with her, offering her reassurance.

He picked up his step when Donovan gained distance on him. He couldn’t afford to mentally wander off like that. It could get him and his teammates killed.

He glanced over at P.J. She’d kept up with no problem, and she looked unruffled by the fight.

“Thanks for the cover,” he said.

She looked startled by the thank-you. Her ponytail swung as she glanced sideways at him. “No problem. It’s my job.”

“It’s a job you’re good at,” he said sincerely.

“For a woman you mean.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He looked over to see a smile nudging the corners of her mouth.

“You’re doing that on purpose to make me feel like a slime bucket,” he accused.

She shrugged. “You’re a SEAL. You’re not used to going into combat with women. It stands to reason you’d be impressed. I doubt you’re as impressed by Cole, and his job is the same as mine.”

She had him there.

“Okay, busted. You’re right. I’m impressed because you’re a woman. A really small woman.”

Donovan snickered in front of them. “Quit while you’re ahead, little brother. She’s kicked people’s asses for saying less than that.”

P.J. rolled her eyes at Donovan’s back.

“Got an ETA, nerd boy?”

“Ouch,” Donovan said. “You hurt me with your insults. Half mile more.” He pointed at the slope ahead. “Just over that ridge and we’ll be looking down at the helicopter.”

“Then what do you say we walk more and talk less,” she said as she surged ahead.

And again, summarily dismissed like an errant schoolboy. The woman had a way of making a man feel about an inch tall.

Donovan and Ethan exchanged amused glances and picked up the pace.

They were dirty, sweat-drenched, and Ethan had dried blood caked on his neck and shirt, when they topped the rise. Below, the helicopter sat covered in a camouflage net.

Donovan spoke quietly into his mic, and slowly, the men surrounding the chopper came into view.

Ethan, Donovan and P.J. hurried down and were met by Dolphin.

“Give me a report on Cole,” Donovan said briskly.

“He’s in the chopper. Gave him a shot to ease the pain. Ricochet. Bullet’s still in the leg. We’ll have to stop over in Costa Rica and let Maren look him over and hope we can refuel there.”

Donovan nodded and then looked over to where Baker and Renshaw stood, their gazes wary as they stood guard. “You guys okay? Any other injuries?”

“Just Dolphin,” Renshaw said, jerking a thumb in Dolphin’s direction.

“What the hell happened to you?” Ethan demanded.

Dolphin grimaced. “No big deal. I may have busted a few ribs. Got too close to one of the blasts.”

“That’ll do it,” P.J. murmured.

“Sam, Garrett and Steele are coming in with Rachel,” Donovan said as his hand left his ear. “Get the cover off the chopper. It’s time to roll.”

The team burst into a flurry of activity. Ethan dove in to help, though his mind screamed at him to go meet the others. He forced himself to contain the excitement building inside.

Rachel. His wife. He was taking her home.

“Ethan,” P.J. murmured beside him.

He turned when she nudged him, and she gestured to a point in the distance. He followed her stare and saw Garrett striding toward the chopper, Rachel in his arms.

He forgot everything else. Uncaring of how it looked, he broke into a run, ignoring the ache in his head and the soreness of his muscles. All that mattered was that he get to her.

Garrett stopped and waited for Ethan to come to him. Sam and Steele passed and Sam put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder.

“Get her and come on,” Sam murmured before he walked on by.

“Is she okay?” Ethan asked around the catch in his throat.

“Sam sedated her. It was pretty bad,” Garrett said after a pause.

Ethan took her from Garrett, marveling at the feel of her in his arms again after so long. This time he absorbed the sensation, where before he’d thrown her over his shoulder so they could move quickly.

“Come on, let’s get her in the chopper,” Garrett said.

Ethan cradled her in his arms and walked over to get into the helicopter as they were pulling the net from the tail rotor. He sat as the others took their seats and Donovan climbed into the cockpit.

Ethan stared down at Rachel’s delicate face and took his first long look at his wife since he’d burst into her hut.

Her clothes were ratty, the shorts thin and threadbare. Her T-shirt had numerous holes and was matted with dirt. She wore no shoes, and her hair hung limply on her head. But to him, she had never looked more beautiful.

Emotion overcame him, his throat swelled and tears burned his eyelids. Unable to think, to react, he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and held on to her as tightly as he could.

“I have to admit, I was skeptical,” Sam said as he slid onto the floor beside Garrett and in front of Ethan.

Ethan looked up to see sorrow and regret burning brightly in his brother’s eyes.

“I’m damn glad we got her out.”

Ethan nodded. “I owe you one, man. I owe you all.”

“Bullshit. You don’t owe us anything. I’m mad as hell we couldn’t have been here sooner,” Garrett growled

“I don’t understand,” Ethan ground out. “Why? Why her?” He buried his head in her hair. “What did she ever do to deserve any of this?”

He sucked in several steadying breaths. He felt close to going completely insane with anger, grief and guilt. How could he have not known she was alive? He should have demanded more proof. Instead, he’d blindly accepted the proclamation that his wife wasn’t ever coming back home.

Sam leaned forward to allow Steele to step over him. “The important thing is you have her back.”

Yes. He had her back, and he’d kill any son of a bitch who ever tried to take her from him again.

“She okay?” Steele asked as he took position on the other side of Sam.

Ethan noticed the blood on Steele’s arm and the way he grimaced when he sat down. Ethan looked over at Sam, who shook his head. It wasn’t serious, but Steele looked none too happy with the injury.

Ethan swallowed and answered Steele’s question. “I don’t know yet. I think they have her hooked on drugs.”

Anger tightened Steele’s jaw, and his blue eyes flashed. “We should have just dropped a bunch of C-4 and been done with the assholes.”

P.J. slid in next to Ethan, while Baker, Renshaw and Dolphin climbed in the back to be near Cole, who was out like a light. Dolphin stretched out and let out a moan. He put his hand over his ribs.

“Man, I think I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Ethan felt some of the tension leave him. He began to shake as reality set in.

“Want me to take her?” Sam asked.

Ethan shook his head, tightening his grip on her. She still wasn’t conscious, thank God. The sedative had done its job.

“Thank you,” Ethan said loud enough for the others to hear.

“You would have done the same for one of us,” Steele said with a shrug. The action made him wince again, and he held his hand to his shoulder. Ethan could see blood seep between his fingers. “And truth is, when you told me what had happened to Rachel, I was itching to kick some cartel ass. I’m just glad she’s okay.”

Was she okay? That was the million-dollar question. She was alive, but who really knew how she was. The bastards had shot her up with drugs for God knows how long. Certainly long enough to get her addicted. She had been in the throes of withdrawal when Sam found her. Ethan didn’t even want to dwell on what else they might have done to her.

He needed to get her to a doctor fast. But first they had to get the hell out of here. Alive.

The whir of the blades and the roar of the engine cut off anything else Ethan might have said. Within seconds, Donovan lifted off the ground and skimmed along the trees. In the distance, smoke could be seen floating skyward in a black stream. Ethan’s nostrils flared. He wished they’d done exactly as Steele had said and dropped a load of C-4 and been done with it.

Ethan leaned back and shifted Rachel so that she was even closer to him. It didn’t matter that they were both dirty, they stunk, and they had more dirt and mud caked on them than a hog. She was his. She was a miracle.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair. The slow rise and fall of her chest, the slight movement against his body gave him much needed reassurance.

He kissed her and kept his lips pressed to her head. No matter what, this time he wouldn’t make the same mistakes he’d made before. He’d cherish each day with her.

He only hoped she’d forgive him their past.

“I think we should have had Sean come with us,” Frank grumbled. “And what were you thinking leaving Rusty alone in our house? We’ll be lucky to have a house when we get back. She probably sent us on a wild-goose chase. How do we know she was telling us the truth?”