SEALs of Honor: Mason Read online

  Perched on the side of the bath, she gently slipped her feet in the warm water. Tears came to her eyes at the stinging. It felt good but that sting quickly became a scorching burn. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it. After a couple of long moments, she slid the rest of the way into the water, this time gasping in joy as her aching muscles were enveloped in the comforting heat.

  She had no idea how much time she had but took several minutes to lie submerged, letting the heat wash over her hair and face. Then she went about the painful business of wetting down her hair and trying to clean it with the bar of soap. She was dusty and bloody and damn it, every inch hurt.

  By the time she was done, she was exhausted. She managed to hitch herself up to the side of the bathtub again to snag up the towel on the floor. The dry rough textured material made short work of the moisture still clinging to her skin. She redressed in her underclothes and wrapped the towel around her while contemplating her options. She could walk out to the bedroom in a towel and hope to make it into her room sight unseen. Or she could call out for help and get carried into her room, thus letting her feet stay clean. If there was more medicated ointment, her feet could really use it and needed to be clean before putting it on. If not, then it didn’t matter. Then again, clean feet would heal better and that was her prime requirement right now. Healing.

  She called out, “Mason?”

  There was a quick tap on the door then it opened and he popped his head around. Saw her sitting wrapped up in a towel and nodded. “Good idea.”

  He walked in, picked her up, towel and all and said, “I’ve got the ointment sitting beside the bed. We’ll get that on first then you can go to sleep.”

  “Any chance of a change of clothes?” she asked hopefully. “There’s not much left of mine.”

  “I’ll be able to find you a t-shirt. Not sure if any of our pants would fit. Definitely no underclothes.”

  “I’m wearing those, but my t-shirt, sweater, and jeans are history.”

  He smiled at her as he laid her down. “I’ll take a look after we get your feet taken care of.”

  Taking care of her feet took longer and required more effort than she’d thought. Now clean, the tissue was raw and swollen. He dressed both, then leaving her lying on the bed, he left to search for more clothes.

  She dropped the towel to the floor and managed to shift under the blankets. He could look for clothes all he liked. She was looking for sleep.

  Closing her eyes, she slowly relaxed. Thank God this was over.

  *

  NO MORE THAN ten minutes later, Mason came back to find her sleeping heavily in the bed. With the towel on the floor, her body tucked under the sheets, he had to grin at her feet sticking straight out so the ointment wouldn’t muck up the bedding. He had no such qualms himself, but it was such a feminine thing to do it made him smile.

  A quick trek to the bathroom had him bringing the rest of her clothes, and making sure there was nothing else left behind, he quickly packed up her useless clothing into the bottom of his pack. They wanted nothing to remain of their passing through here. And definitely nothing to say Tesla had been here.

  They were running two hour rotating watches. He was on outside watch next. Swede stepped through the bedroom doorway to stand guard over Tesla, saw her bloody feet sticking out of the covers while the rest of her was buried under the blankets and said, “Small feet.”

  Mason agreed. “Back in four hours.”

  “I’ll be here. Go, she’ll be fine.”

  With a last glance at sleeping beauty, Mason headed out to relieve Hawk.

  Sitting up in the tree from the far corner of the property they had a perfect coverage of the house and particularly the corner where Tesla slept.

  “Go. I’m here.”

  Hawk nodded and skimmed down the tree. He was half squirrel the way he could move his body along the trees. He also climbed better than any of them.

  “It’s all clear.” He sprinted to the front of the house where Shadow was on guard. All angles had to be covered. He’d switched places with Hawk in two hours so they were always moving someone around.

  Mason leaned back and let his nose take in the scent of the night. The only way to survive sessions like this was to be one with it. That meant letting go of everything in his mind, in his head. Let it all drift away, drop the worries but sharpen the senses. With his next breath out, he released his attachment to the moment and let the experience of the tree, the night, the air sink inside. It helped him to hear movement on the ground, noises in the wind. It allowed for so much more sensory knowledge that he never did a guard watch without it.

  He swiveled his head to the left. Something moved. With his eyes closed he worked to identify it. A deer. He smiled at the size of the buck. That guy had better keep on moving or he’d end up on a hunter’s dinner table before too long. It might not be hunting season, but many people living in the back country helped themselves to Mother Nature’s bounty. Regardless of the law.

  Relaxing deeper, he could hear the sounds of running water up ahead. There must be a creek. Good, they could use that to their advantage if they needed to.

  He set his GPS locator and settled back for his watch.

  It went quickly. The night was silent. At peace. With any luck Tesla slept, and they could get her moved out to safety. She deserved it. And him, well he’d head back to base and await new orders.

  Like he always did.

  He saw Hawk switch with Swede at Tesla’s doorway. Good. Watch time. Swede moved out to the base of the tree. Swede was big and not a tree climber by choice, but he’d find a place that worked for him and use that for his watch. They all had their own system.

  Mason shimmied down and nodded to Swede. He slipped to the front of the house and cocked an ear. All clear.

  He entered the house and walked up to Tesla’s bedroom. Hawk waited for him.

  “She’s been sleeping solid.”

  “Good, it’s what she needs.”

  Hawk nodded and slipped away. Mason would catch a few hours of sleep, then go relieve someone out front. The system worked better than most and worked because they all knew what they were doing and why.

  He’d never had a problem with anyone on his team. Their lives depended on each other. And apparently on those they were rescuing if Tesla’s actions today were anything to go by.

  He smiled at her position. Had she moved at all? She was still flung across the bed, her feet still sticking out and her head buried under the covers.

  Good. A sleep like that was exactly what she needed.

  Now he needed to catch some rest himself.

  Then tomorrow, he’d be able to meet up and hand her over.

  That was what this was all about.

  Collect the package before anyone else could.

  He’d done that and more.

  It was almost time to let go.

  And that he realized with shock was something he didn’t want to do. A first for him. A first for any woman in his life. He’d had plenty of short term relationships. They all had. A group of women hung around the bars in the hopes of catching themselves a SEAL. Often he and the team let themselves be caught. After all, why not? Life was for living, and hey, women made the living a whole lot sweeter. But it was also getting old.

  He glanced back over at the sleeping woman.

  Still, it’s not like his interest would come to anything.

  How could it? His lifestyle was dangerous as all hell, and she’d already lost someone to the war. She wasn’t going to be interested in facing the danger of a second one.

  Military lifestyle was hell on partners.

  Chapter 8

  SHE WOKE TO heat, a hot stifling type of heat. She sat up, threw off the covers and breathed deep as the cool air of the night flowed over her hot skin.

  “Easy, Tesla, take it easy.”

  “Hot. So hot,” she muttered, flopping back on the mattress. She kicked the bedding off her legs, trying to co
ol down yet again. A warm hand touched her forehead.

  She twisted away from him. “I’m hot, don’t add your hot hand to my head,” she cried. “Why is it so hot?”

  In the background she could hear someone whisper, “Shit.”

  She didn’t know what his problem was. She was the one who was hot. Then she realized she wasn’t alone. “Are you hot too?” She turned feverish eyes to Mason and studied him. He looked normal. But then normal for him was hot. “No. You’re already hot. It can’t be bothering you.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Why are you so hot?” she cried. “I’m hot too but not hot like you are.”

  He shook his head.

  She frowned up at him. “Of course you’re hot,” she snapped as she rolled over onto her stomach and stretched out across the whole mattress. “That’s better.”

  “What’s better?” Mason asked beside her.

  “This waterbed. It’s much cooler.”

  Then he touched her feet. She screeched in pain, flipped over onto her back and burst into tears. “Why are they burning? They are on fire. Why? Can’t you put the fire out,” she pleaded with him.

  “I will. You stay here and I’ll get water.”

  “Water. Yes. Water. It would put out the flames,” she cried. “Hurry.”

  She twisted in pain, her knees bending and straightening as the throbbing wouldn’t stop.

  She whimpered, but it caught in the back of her throat and ended up sounding like a gurgle. She half laughed. “That sounded bad. I’m not sick. I’m just so hot.”

  “You’re running a fever,” said a grim voice beside her.

  She opened her eyes and shrieked. Mason was leaning over her, his face close to hers, his gaze locked on her, cataloguing her features.

  “Water,” she asked when she could. “I’m so thirsty.”

  “Here.” He reached an arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit up. Holding the glass to her lips, she drank greedily. When the glass was empty, she sank back to the pillows, tugging the covers up to hide the bare skin her underwear didn’t cover. Then immediately, threw the covers off again. It was too hot.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Really,” he said, a smile in his voice. “What are you sorry about?”

  “I got sick. You don’t need that.”

  “Well, at least you got sick at the right time. You’ll be taken out of here and get medical help within a few hours. Now if you’d been so inclined as to have gotten sick earlier, well that’s a different story. But we’re safe right now.”

  She gave him the briefest of smiles, appreciating his sense of humor.

  “However, I have to clean your feet again,” he said. “So I’m going to retrieve the stuff I need then I’ll be back.”

  “And I won’t be here,” she muttered. “I don’t want anyone to touch them.”

  “They are the reason for the fever, so it doesn’t matter what you want,” he said, his voice hard. Determined.

  Instantly tears jumped into her eyes. She turned her face into the pillows to hide them.

  Still hot and hating the weakness washing over her, she rolled all the way over until she was lying on her side, curled up in fetal position. He’d do it regardless of her feelings or the pain. The sane part of her mind said it needed to be done. She was sick and that was holding them all back. If she could feel better, she’d be able to run again, even if it was just to the right vehicle. Having her mobility stripped away from her made her feel vulnerable. Victimized. Weak. She needed her feet to heal.

  That meant letting him treat them.

  When she heard footsteps returning, she buried her face in the pillow and clenched the cotton casing tight in her fists.

  There was no way she wanted to talk to him.

  Her foot was grabbed in a firm hand and lifted. Nerves had her instinctively pulling it back.

  Instantly, other hands grabbed her bare calf and stretched it out. Holding it firm.

  She froze.

  “Tesla. Swede is going to hold your legs down so I can do this. Bite on the pillow. It will help you deal with the pain.”

  She snorted.

  “Swede.”

  Instantly her body was shifted like she was a two-year-old until her legs were supported by the bed and only her feet were hanging over the end. She lay on top of a rough scratchy surface, the top blanket, it was so rough she instantly shifted to rest her head on her folded arms. A blanket was thrown over her.

  Damn it. It was hot, too.

  The bed sagged as Swede, at least she presumed it was him, sat down. She could hear the two of them mutter, but her own nerves, that horrible anticipation of oncoming pain blocked out any semblance of understanding. She started to shake.

  “Okay, I’m going to start.”

  Swede reached down and gripped both ankles firm against the edge the bed.

  Cool water poured over her feet.

  Her relief was palpable as the light liquid didn’t hurt – until the burn set in. She clenched her jaw and arched her back as the shock and agony ripped through.

  But she never made a sound.

  Somewhere in the back of her brain, all she could remember was his earlier message about needing to be quiet. But she wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Truly, she wanted to bawl her pain away. But held back. Locked into her position, her back arched, her arms rigid as her body fought against the agony.

  “Jesus,” Swede said. “Hurry up.”

  “I’m trying,” Mason muttered.

  Whatever he did next brought her collapsing back down on the bed. She closed her eyes…and endured.

  *

  MASON LOOKED UP at Swede then motioned toward Tesla’s head. “Is she out?” he said in a low voice. He figured she had to be as her feet lay soft and pliant in his hands. Since that first reaction she hadn’t moved.

  Swede shook his head. “Her eyes are open.”

  Shocked, Mason stretched up to take a look. Sure enough, she stared across the room to the wall on the other side. And a small steady stream of tears rolled down her cheeks.

  But she never made a sound.

  Affected more than he’d have thought possible, he gritted his jaw closed and returned to the task at hand. This was hurting him as much as her. And from the grim look on Swede’s face, he knew the big mammoth wasn’t unaffected either.

  He took his time to make sure all the slivers and grime were out of the torn flesh. This time he dug deep, spreading the sliced flesh and cleaned. He hadn’t seen them all before and had missed several cuts. Now there was no room for error. She had everything from tiny pebbles buried in the puffy flesh to slivers. He thought there were tiny slivers of glass but couldn’t imagine from where. By the time he was done, blood ran freely down her foot. Knowing it was going to hurt, but not having much option, he dumped the last of the alcohol over her bare feet.

  They jerked and twitched. Glancing upward he could see her white fingers grimly clenching the damn blankets, but she never made a sound. Her eyes though, Lord the look of pain almost broke his heart.

  Swede handed him the bandages, cut up sheets had been sacrificed for the job.

  Accepting them, he acknowledged the other man’s need to leave too. They both wanted to be done here. Torturing kittens was something they’d beat up another man for. But when they had to do it themselves… Well, neither man wanted any part of it.

  Determined to make sure her feet would heal now, he smeared ointment across them then bandaged first one then the other. He carefully bound her feet and ankles, needing the bandages to be snug but not so tight as to hurt.

  She might want to run away, but she’d be lucky to hobble anywhere for several days.

  Would she hold her condition against him? She should.

  He did.

  Chapter 9

  SHE WASN’T SURE at what point in the process she’d dropped into the dead zone. The point where she was still conscious but no longer concerned herself with the outside
world as she was so focused on staying strong inside.

  Her father had talked to her about it. Warned her that under horrible conditions, he’d often had to go there just to keep alive. Although she’d come close to that point in the cabin, tied up and lost, she’d still been outside. This time, with silence being paramount, she’d gone inside easily.

  He’d been right. It was the place to go to survive.

  She’d never have made it through that torture otherwise.

  Even calling it torture made her wince. It was hardly that. But it had been painful as hell. Nothing compared to the psychos out there who really were into torture, but it had been enough for her. She couldn’t imagine if she was captured and taken overseas. She didn’t think she’d survive. She wasn’t like the strong men who’d rescued her. She couldn’t imagine the training they must have gone through.

  She hoped she’d never have to go through anything worse than this. She almost laughed but as she was still not moving her feet in case they started pounding with pain, any sudden movement was out of the question.

  She wiped her eyes on the sheet beneath her cheek, thankful the tears were long gone. She knew they’d have noticed. How could they not? But there were only so many things she could worry about.

  Tears didn’t make it on that list.

  But bawling like a weak wuss did.

  She couldn’t remember how she’d been during the process. Hopefully she hadn’t shamed Harry or her father too much.

  If she had, too damn bad. She was Tesla. Not their clones. She’d do her best, and if she didn’t match up to their expectations then…well, it wasn’t the first time.

  A gentle hand lowered onto her shoulder.

  “How are you feeling?”

  The voice so close to her ear made her freeze. Slowly she raised her head and looked around. Not only was she no longer crosswise on her bed, she was lying normally on one side, her feet propped up on pillows, the rest of her body covered by blankets. Her gaze slowly moved from her propped up feet to Mason’s jean covered legs and…she swallowed as her gaze wandered higher to his bare heavily muscled torso, up to the broad shoulders and his shadowed features, the narrow gaze full of concern…for her.