Hero of Mine (15 page)

T
YLER WAS READY
to get out of the car. He was stiff, and his knee was aching, despite the Tylenol his mother had given him.

The only good thing about the long drive was getting to hold Dani's hand the whole way home.

“What did Kent mean?” she asked finally. Tyler was surprised it had taken her so long to bring it up.

“You know how I told you I was shot?” He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye. “Well, it was actually a sniper bullet that went through my dog and my knee. Tore up the cartilage pretty good.”

“Your dog? Oh God, Tyler.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, I never knew something could hurt so bad, and Rex . . . Well, I couldn't leave him. I lay there on the ground, holding my dead dog in my arms instead of trying to crawl. Trying to get myself to safety. Luckily, some of the guys from my squad heard my distress call and came for me. They put me on a chopper, and after several surgeries, they sent me here to recover. Physical therapy and group counseling. I guess I was too valuable as a military dog trainer for them to give me a medical discharge, but they'll never send me back into the field again.”

Her hands covered his and she squeezed. “Do you want to go back?”

“Hell no. Sparks did, until he met Violet, and I get he had his own reasons, but I was done. I still remember the sound and smell and Rex's blood on my hands . . . ” Dani gave a soft whimper, and he cursed. “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear this shit.”

“No, I'm just picturing the whole thing, and it makes me ache for you.” She brought his hand up to her cheek, turning to press her lips to his palm.

Needing to lighten the mood a bit, he joked, “If you really want to make me feel better, you should use my hand to cup something else.”

She smacked him in the chest.

“Ow, don't abuse the driver.”

“Then stop being a pervert.”

Tyler got off the freeway and headed straight for Dani's place. It was a little after ten, and he was exhausted. He still needed to pick up Duke, and he had switched with Bryce tomorrow so he needed to be at the program at nine in the morning.

He parked the car in her driveway and got to the back door first. “I'll get him. You get the door.”

She nodded and went to go unlock it. Tyler ducked into the backseat and unbuckled Noah, who snored on softly. He lifted the toddler out and held him with his head against his shoulder. They'd changed him into pajamas before they'd made the drive back, and considering how out the little guy was, Tyler was glad Dani wouldn't have to wrestle pajamas onto him.

Dani pushed the door open and went first, shooing and shushing her two dogs as they barked excitedly. Shasta stood up on her hind legs and tried to sniff Noah, and Tyler patted her head.

Tyler laid Noah down in his crib and ran a hand over his curls gently.

“Night, buddy.”

He pulled the fleece blanket over him and left the room, closing the door with a soft click. Dani was standing in the kitchen, holding her phone to her ear with a frown.

“What's up?” he whispered.

She held the phone out to him. “Press play.”

Tyler did as she said and listened.

“
Hello, Danielle, this is Camila Ramirez, Angel's mother. I would like to talk to you regarding my grandchild. Please call me at 916-555-0923. Thank you.”

Tyler's body pulsed with anger. God, Angel was a fucking pussy. “Nothing like sending his mommy to do his dirty work. Are you going to call her?”

“I think I should talk to a lawyer first. See what my options are. I just . . . I only met his mother a few times, but I know she hated me.” With a heavy sigh, she took her phone back and set it on the counter. “I just don't get why he's even interested in Noah, you know? He was the one who said he wanted nothing to do with either of us. Now I've got not just him, but his mother contacting me.”

“How did they get your number?” he asked.

“I've had the same number for years. I've never changed it.”

“Might want to think about doing that,” Tyler said.

“Yeah, I might, depending on what the lawyer says, but they already know where I live. Unless I want to move, too, not sure how helpful that will be.”

Suddenly, Tyler wasn't so sure about going back to his place tonight. Maybe he should get Duke and his uniform and come back. Tyler cupped her face in his hands and peered down at her. “I don't like you being here alone. What if he's watching the house?”

“Okay, now you're just being paranoid. We're fine, and even if he was watching the house, I can't imagine he'd try anything. Plus, there is no way he is getting past a locked door and two ferocious guard dogs.”

Tyler glanced down at pudgy, snorting Bella and Shasta, whose tail thumped against the carpet.

“Not sure about the ferociousness.”

“You didn't see Shasta when he came to the house. She almost launched herself at him. I would have been scared of her if she hadn't been my dog.”

“Speaking of dogs . . . ” He kissed her, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. “I gotta go get Duke.”

“So go,” she whispered back.

“I will. But we had a long day that included our first real fight, and we didn't properly make up.”

“I told you, it's fine. What do we need to make up for?”

Tyler kissed her again, deeper this time, his hips pressing her back into the counter. He pulled his mouth away long enough to say, “Fun?”

Dani reached around and gripped his ass through his jeans in response, and he groaned. Dropping his hands from her face, he picked her up by her rear end and lifted her onto the counter. “Lie back.”

She did as he asked, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he shoved her dress up, revealing the black leggings keeping him from what he wanted most.

He buried his head between her legs and pressed his mouth against her through the soft cotton. After turning his cap backward so the bill wasn't in the way, he hooked his fingers into the sides of her leggings and pulled them, along with her underwear, down to her knees.

With the kitchen light shining over them, he saw that she'd shaved, and his excitement grew until his cock was practically pulsating with hunger. Lifting her legs and ducking his head between them, he let them fall so her boot heels hit him in the middle of his back.

He spread her lips with his thumbs and swept his tongue over the hard nub of her clit, listening to the hiss of her breath with pure male pride. Foreplay was something he'd done on occasion, but with Dani, it wasn't a chore to get to the final act; in fact, Tyler realized he liked it. The anticipation, her sounds of ecstasy as he licked, sucked, and fingered her until she was smothering cries of joy, her muscles squeezing his fingers as she came. It was almost better than sex.

Giving her slit one last long lick that left her shuddering, he lifted her legs over his head and redressed her lovingly.

Taking her hands, he pulled her up into a sitting position, his hand stroking her cheek. “I better go.”

“Wait, now?”

“I still need to get my dog, and when we do it, I'm going to want to spend the whole night with you after.”

Her hands trailed over his chest and abdomen until they were cupping his dick through his jeans. “But that doesn't mean you need to leave without being satisfied.”

“It's not necessary . . . ” he began, sucking in his breath when she pushed him back.

“I think it is.” She hopped down from the counter and stalked toward him.

D
ANI SLIPPED
T
YLER
'
S
belt from the buckle, her tongue sliding inside his mouth. He tasted of mint and her, and she was rabid with wanting him. The need to make him feel as good as she did, to give him more pleasure than he could handle so he wouldn't . . .

Wouldn't go to someone else?

God, why did that thought keep creeping though her mind? He'd brought her home to meet his parents, had shown her in every way that he cherished her and Noah.

Pushing all the negative thoughts from her mind, she proceeded to get swept up in what she was doing now. It had been a long time since she'd given head, until last night with Tyler. She'd been afraid that it would be awful, that she'd be so bad he'd walk out with a
thanks anyway
.

Instead, she'd looked up at him, at the look of pure bliss on his handsome face, and instinct had taken over.

And she wanted that feeling again. To be responsible for Tyler losing control, to hear her name on his lips as he came.

Leading him to the couch, she unbuttoned his pants on the way, sliding the zipper down to expose his boxer briefs.

“It's your turn to lie back. On the couch.”

Tyler kicked off his shoes and pushed his jeans and underwear all the way off. When he was naked from the waist down, she licked her lips.

He reached up to pull off his hat, and she stopped him. “No. The shirt can go, but the hat stays on.”

He raised a brow but didn't argue. Stripping so the only thing he wore was a hat and a smile, he lay back on the couch.

“I'm all yours.”

Yes, you are.

Her possessive thought escaped before she could catch it. She kicked off her boots and leaned over the couch until she was settled on her knees between his legs.

“Scoot up a bit.”

He did as she asked, and, twisting her hair into a knot on top of her head, she leaned over him, her hands cupping his balls before circling the base of his cock. Her tongue swirled around the tip and then dipped into the tiny hole there, catching the first drop of excitement that had gathered.

As she slid her mouth over him, pressing down until her lips met her hands, she started to pump and suck, swirling her tongue, massaging his balls, her breasts tightening as he started talking.

“Fuck, God, yes. Holy shit, just like that. Dani . . . ”

She fought a smile as she stepped up the speed, his groans becoming a beat to music only she could hear. She was sweating, and her jaw was starting to ache, but she pushed through it, keeping up the pressure until she felt his cock jerk in her mouth.

His hand tangled in her hair, freeing the strands from the makeshift knot, and as the curtain of her blonde hair shrouded her, she swallowed his pleasure. He shouted her name this time as he came, and when she was sure he was done, she licked up his shaft one more time, similar to what he'd done to her.

Flipping her hair off her face, she smiled up at him. “So . . . are you satisfied?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

She kissed over his abdomen, his six-pack muscles jumping under her mouth as she climbed up his body, tucking her knees along both sides of his hips as she straddled him.

“Good.” She started to lift herself off him, but he reached up and grabbed her hips. “You don't have to move.”

Stretching out on top of him, she laid her cheek on his bare chest. “Okay, but I thought you had to go get Duke.”

“I do, but shit, Dani, I don't want to leave you.”

His chest rumbled with every heavenly word coming out of his mouth, and she lifted her head, folding her hands on his chest.

“So, how about next weekend I come over to your place? Noah will be at my parents', and I could make you dinner.”

His thumb brushed across her lower lip.

“Will you be cooking naked?”

“If you want me to,” she said.

“You are such a tease. Now I'm gonna think about you standing in my kitchen naked with a wooden spoon . . . Fuck, I'm going to have blue balls all week!”

“Hey, you were the one who brought it up. I was just being accommodating.”

“I think you like knowing you drive me wild.”

Her fingers played across his pecs. “I like knowing that you want me.”

Tyler's hand tangled in her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Oh, I want you, all right. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.”

His words sent her stomach somersaulting, and she leaned up to kiss him, softly and sweetly.

“What was that for?” he asked.

Because I might just love you.

T
YLER TOOK HIS
squad out to the off-site team-building course Alpha Dog had been working on during the summer months. Dr. Stabler had suggested that if the boys did some team-building exercises together, it might help Meyers and Jeremiah come to a resolution.

Only the mud from the rain that had been pouring down all week made the course harder than usual.

“All right, here's the deal. We'll break up into two teams for the day, of my choosing. The losing team will do the winning team's chores for a week, and as long as your schoolwork is done, the winning team will get a movie night every night for a week. Sound good?”

The boys hollered and whooped.

“Then here we go. Meyers, Walton, Harlow, Platt, Locke, and Benton Team One! The rest of you are Team Two.”

Meyers and Walton eyed each other warily.

“Team One, you're with me. Team Two, you're with Sergeant Kline.”

Once Kline had led the kids over to the London Bridge, Tyler waved Team One over to him. “First up is the spider web.” Tyler indicated the ropes in the shape of a giant web. “You need to get every member through those holes without waking the spider. If you vibrate her ropes too many times and she drops, you have to start over. So, come up with a strategy, and let's go.”

Tyler had to admit, the six teenagers acted as though there had never been a conflict as they came up with a strategy. Three on each side, they would put one guy through right to left and the next, left to right. Platt was the only one putting up a stink about the other guys not being able to lift him, but to Tyler's surprise, Jeremiah Walton was the one to shut him up.

“Dude, stop it! I know what you're doing, but we need you to suck it up and trust us. We can get you through the hole and win this.”

“What is it I'm doing?” Platt asked.

“You're calling yourself fat before someone else does it. I do the same thing.”

“How is that? You're not fat.”

“No, but with my long hair and being a twig, people call me shit all the time. I figured for a long time it was just better to make fun of myself before they did or ignore them. But that's not good for either one of us. We're your teammates, and it's our job to build you up and make sure you get to the other side.”

“Better listen to him, Platt. He makes sense.”

Tyler wanted to throw his fist in the air as Meyers backed up Walton. This was what he'd been looking for, and he would have to remember to send Dr. Stabler a fruit basket for working with Meyers.

By the time they finished the course, Team One beat out Team Two by fifteen seconds. There was a chorus of good-natured groans and razzing, but otherwise, they all shook hands and climbed into the van without issue.

On the way back to Alpha Dog, they stopped off to grab Taco Bell, and when the boys started making jokes about the cafeteria food, Blake threatened to tell their head cook. Tyler grinned as he drove, chalking today in the win column.

He parked in front and got out to open the door. The boys filed out, and he just happened to glance down the sidewalk.

And into the hate-filled stare of Carlos Mendez.

Tyler pushed through the boys when he saw the gun and said, “All of you get down.”

Tyler put his hands up, hoping to make himself a big enough target so Carlos wouldn't think about the other boys. A cold sweat covered his whole body as he looked down the barrel of that gun, the pain and panic coming back to him like a flash flood.

“What now, motherfucker? You thought you could disrespect me and I would just go down like a little bitch?”

“No, I didn't think that. But I also didn't expect you to show up at a military-run building with a firearm.”

“Shows what you know, huh,
puta
? You think you're so bad, but looks like I got you pissing your pants. What you got to say now?”

Tyler took a step toward him, and Carlos told him to back up. Faces flashed through Tyler's head as he tried to stall. His parents, Zoe and Dereck, his aunts, uncles, and cousins . . .

Dani and Noah.

But he couldn't think about that. Not when there were a dozen kids in his care, boys he was supposed to protect.

“Look, you want me, you got me. But let everyone else go inside.”

“You mean those other shitheads that laughed at me? Nah, I think they'll stay. I got an extra clip just for them.”

“You haven't hurt anyone yet, Carlos. You can walk. You're only sixteen. Your whole life ahead of you. I'll speak to the judge about leniency—”

“Sure, you want to talk now that I got you by the balls. Go ahead, talk. Not going to save you.”

“Except this is murder. If you do this, you'll have taken fourteen lives. You'll get life or worse, the death penalty. Do you really want that? Don't you want to open that custom car shop with your little brother?”

Tyler thanked God he'd read Carlos's file several times. Carlos had had dreams and aspirations. It was why they'd picked him for the program in the first place.

Only Carlos's dark gaze didn't hold anything except emptiness.

“Enrique bit it last night. Got shot by the cops last night when he pulled a piece. Stupid fucker tried to boost a car by himself.” Tyler could hear the pain in his voice, even if he couldn't see it.

“Carlos, I'm sorry, but you don't want this—”

“Don't tell me what I want!” he screamed, spittle flying. “Maybe I'm planning on ending this today. What do you think about that? No jail, no death penalty. Just me going down and taking you assholes with me.”

If that was his plan, Tyler had a choice. He could rush him and try to tackle him before he got a shot off, or he could try to keep him talking and hope help would show up.

The decision was made for him when someone raced from the other side of the van toward Carlos.

Jeremiah Walton.

The kid was fast, but he wasn't as fast as a bullet.

Just as Carlos turned toward Jeremiah, Tyler rushed him, ignoring the pain in his knee every time his feet hit the pavement. It seemed as though he was running in slow motion, and his gut wrenched as Carlos took a shot at Jeremiah. It must have gone wide, because the thin kid kept going, plowing into Carlos. The two of them were grappling for the gun, and then a loud pop echoed around them.

Tyler reached them just as Carlos pushed Jeremiah off him, his hands covered in red.

Tyler wasn't thinking as he clocked Carlos across the jaw and snatched the gun. He threw it across the lawn.

“Blake, get him!”

Tyler knelt next to Jeremiah, putting pressure on the wound. Blood oozed up between his fingers, and his hands shook as he chanted.

“Please. Please. Please.”

The sound of sirens in the distance broke through the adrenaline pounding in his ears, and he whispered, “Hang in there, Jeremiah. They're coming.”

T
YLER SAT IN
the hospital waiting area alone. He'd called Jeremiah's mom on the way to the hospital and gotten her voicemail. That was hours ago, and Jeremiah was still in surgery. The bullet had gone through the right side of his chest, but they were worried about a collapsed lung.

God, while he'd been waiting to make his move, he'd been saved by a fourteen-year-old kid. One who had already been through the seven circles of hell in his short life.

Holding his face in his hands, he tried to concentrate on just breathing and drawing deep, calming breaths.

“Sergeant Best?”

Tyler's head swung up, and the surgeon who had taken Jeremiah up stood in the doorway. She was a short Asian woman with a blank expression that scared the hell out of him.

“Is he all right?” he asked.

“Is his mother here yet?”

“No, not yet. Please, can you just tell me—”

“He was very lucky. We were able to repair the damage to his lung, and barring any further complications, he should make a full recovery. He needs to rest, but if you would like to check on him tomorrow, that should be fine.”

Tyler held his hand out, and the doctor took it with a smile.

“Thank you so much. The kid is a hero.”

“So I heard. I'm sure his mother will be proud.”

Just at the mention of the woman who had chosen a man over her own kid, Tyler's vision blurred with a red fog. He didn't even remember driving to the Walton family home until he was standing on their doorstep, pounding on the front door.

A barrel-chested man answered the door, and the scent of pot wafted out, hitting Tyler full in the face.

“I need to speak with Virginia Walton.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I'm the man who has no problem kicking the shit out of a woman-beating dickhead. Get Virginia. Now.”

“Maybe I'll just call the cops—”

“Who is it, Neil?” a woman's voice called from inside the house.

“Some army dick who thinks he can tell me what to do in my own home.”

Suddenly, a pale, heavyset woman pushed into the doorway. “Jeremiah?”

“Your son is at Sutter Memorial. He was shot today and just got out of surgery about an hour ago.”

“Oh God.” Her eyes filled with tears, and Tyler's attitude toward her softened a bit.

“I called your cell phone and left a voicemail.”

“It . . . it's broken.” Her gaze shifted toward Neil, and Tyler had a feeling Jeremiah's absence hadn't made it easier for her.

“How'd the little queer get himself shot, anyway?” Neil asked, unaware of how close Tyler was to beating the ever-loving shit out of him.

Tyler grabbed Neil by his throat and squeezed until the man's face turned red.

“Don't call him that ever again.”

“You're hurting him,” Virginia whimpered.

Just as Neil was starting to turn purple, Tyler pushed him away. The fat man stumbled back and fell into a table before he hit the floor.

Tyler spared Virginia one last disgusted look. “Your son was a hero today. He saved over a dozen lives . . . and you picked that piece of shit over him.”

That seemed to wake her up, and fury blazed through her dark eyes. “Get out of here!”

He let her slam the door in his face, shaking all over as the events of the day finally sank in. He got in his car and drove back to Alpha Dog to grab Duke.

As he walked through the door, everyone stared at him. It wasn't until he got to his office that he realized why.

His shirt and pants were painted dark with Jeremiah's blood.

Tyler grabbed his spare fatigues from his desk drawer and was in the middle of stripping off his T-shirt when someone knocked.

“Who is it?”

“Sparks.”

“Hang on, I'm changing.” He finished changing his pants and called out, “Enter.”

Sparks's face was a mask of concern. “How's Jeremiah?”

“He'll live. Not as if his family gives a shit.”

Sparks searched his face and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do I need to spin any kind of damage control?”

“I barely choked the douche bag.”

“Well, I'm on orders from General Reynolds to put you on medical leave for a week. You'll need to go see a psychiatrist and have them clear you to come back.”

“I'm fine, Sparks. Just pissed off.”

It was true, he was, but not at Carlos or Jeremiah. Hell, not even at that dick, Neal.

Tyler was angry with himself. He should have acted sooner, taken out Carlos so Jeremiah hadn't tried.

“Regardless, you're on leave. We'll shift things around to handle your squad. And don't forget to set up the appointment—”

“Sparks, get the fuck out of my office.”

Sparks didn't argue, just started to leave.

As an afterthought, Tyler asked, “Hey, how're Blake and the other kids? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, Blake is shaken up, and given his history, I can't blame him. The boys have just been asking about Jeremiah. Might be nice if you went out and gave them an update.”

Jesus, he could barely keep it together now, but to go out there and talk to the guys?

He pulled up his big-boy pants and went into the study hall, where the guys sat doing their schoolwork. The minute they saw him, they all stood up and started talking at once.

“Is Jeremiah okay? Did you see him? Is Carlos going to prison?”

He held up his hands, and they quieted. “Jeremiah is going to be okay. He had a collapsed lung, but the doctors have repaired it, and barring further complications, he should be fine. I'm going to stop by and check on him tomorrow.”

“Can I go, too, Sarge?” Meyers asked.

“Well, I can't take all of you, but if it's okay with everyone else, you can represent the squad. Maybe you guys can do something for Jeremiah. I know you like to think you're big tough guys, but it would go a long way to helping Jeremiah recover.”

Tyler took a deep breath before moving onto the next order of business. “Now, if you haven't heard already, Sergeant Sparks has put me on medical leave for a week. This means one of the other instructors is going to take over for me, and if I hear one thing about you giving them a bad time, I will be back here and making you do up-downs until you're blue in the face. Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” they all chorused.

“Good.”

“Hey, Sarge, did you get hurt? Is that why you're on leave?” Hank asked.

“No, I'm on leave so I can get my head shrunk. They just want to make sure I'm not going to lose my shit.”

“Are you? Going to lose your shit?” Harlow asked.

Good question.

“Of course not. I'm gonna be fine.”