Hell Bent (26 page)

Cade opened the door of the Hummer, but stopped, spun on his heels and ran to the trees where he bent over and retched violently.  It went on and on, until he was weak and had nothing left.  He fell on his ass and sat there for a minute trying to catch his breath.

“You okay, Winters?  You need a doctor” Logan asked walking over to him.

“I’m fi—not fine—but not sick,” he replied, his voice hoarse.  He tried to get up to his feet but fell back and put his head in his hands.  “You ever have to do something so terrible you know it will live with you for the rest of your life?”

“I’ve had to do some terrible things, but nothing compared to what I think you had to do last night,” he replied, then sat down beside him.

Cade’s eyes flew to his.  “You know?”

“I suspected, because there is no other reason she’d have been in that house, and not in the shacks with the others,” Logan said with a shrug.  “You didn’t have her with you, or say they’d killed her when you boarded the chopper.”

“She had a baby—did you know that?  One I delivered at the shelter.”

“I didn’t know that, but it makes sense now why you wanted those women back so badly.  Were you in love with her?” he asked.

Cade’s eyes flew to his and he frowned. “No, I wasn’t in love with her! I love your sister—that’s a stupid question.  I—I—that baby—shit.”

“So you love Cecelia huh?  Well buddy, let me tell you that’s a rough road right there.  But a rewarding one if you can figure out how to corral her.  Was it your baby?”

Cade had enough of the inquisition, his dazed brain could not tolerate it anymore. He shoved up to his feet and glared down at Dave. 

“Fuck
no
it wasn’t my baby!  It’s my bro—not my brother—shit!” he growled and shoved his hand through his hair. “It’s a long fucking story, but neither the baby or the mother are any relation to me—I thought they were, but they’re not.  I am going to raise him though.” 

Dave got to his feet, put his hands on his hips and looked perplexed.  He opened his mouth, but Cade held up his hand. 

“
No
—I do
not
want to explain.”

“Roger that,” he said, and with a shake of his head, he walked toward the Humvee.  “Explain it to Cecelia then, because Susan says she’s at the compound and fit to be tied.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Cade stood and stared at the blue clown car parked outside of the office and seriously contemplated getting inside and driving to a park to find some peace.  He’d park there—camp there for a few days and get his mind together—alone.  It was either that or go inside that office, where he’d just heard Cecelia squeal and start a rant when her brother walked in.

“You’ve been gone nearly
two
days!  What
happened
, and
where is Cade
?!?  If you let him get hurt, I’ll
kill
you!” she wailed, and the tone of the wail was like a knife slicing through him.  His gut seesawed, and he swallowed hard.

They’d been gone twenty-four hours
.

Was it bad that he was too fucking tired to reach into his pocket for the keys?  Beyond able to make his muscles work to raise his hand to open the door?

The choice was made for him when he heard the front door open and Cecelia’s whimper as she ran across the porch.  Her whimper reminded him of another, and his stomach rolled.  Cade stood there, because his legs wouldn’t move and she slammed into him with the force of an NFL lineman, and took him off of his feet. 

He landed on his back hard, his head bounced, knocking off his hat and she landed on top of him knocking his breath away.  Her mouth was all over his face kissing him, her fingers running through his hair and he couldn’t move his arms to shove her off.  After a second, he didn’t want to push her off, and his arms cooperated to grab her hips.

“Don’t kiss me—I need to brush my teeth and I’m filthy.”

“I don’t,” she said, kissing a trail to his ear. “Give. A. Damn!” she said punctuating each word with a butterfly kiss on his neck.  “I was so worried about you.”

She should’ve been worried
. 

Cade wasn’t real sure until Hawk made that crazy landing on the edge of the building for him to get in the chopper that he would get out of there any more alive than Amelia.  His stomach did a somersault followed by a pike and he sat up forcing her off of him.  Rolling to his knees, he lost what he couldn’t imagine was left in his stomach then dragged in breaths as he recovered.

Cecelia knelt beside him and put her hand on his back.  “Are you sick?” she asked, her voice trembling.  “We need to get you to the hosp—”

“
No
!” he roared, somehow pushing up to his feet.  “I need a bath, and I need some fucking peace!” he shouted, as he charged up the steps and flew inside.

She was right on his heels as he walked down the hall, and her scream stopped him in his tracks.  “You’ve been
shot
!”

Cade looked down his body, ran his hands over himself, and he didn’t think he’d been shot—everything except one incident at that compound was a blur now though.

“Oh, my God, so much blood,” she said walking around him to raise a shaky hand to cover her mouth.  Her eyes were dark blue pools of fear and misery.

So much blood—oh my God
. 

He flew down the hallway to the bathroom and shoved open the door barely making it to the toilet before he dry heaved over and over.   He sat on the floor when it finally stopped, pulled his knees to his chest and rested his forehead there. 

Emotion shot up his body like a thermometer to choke him. It rushed to his head and exploded inside his skull.  He threw his head back and wailed, tears flowed over his bottom lids, down his face to streak down his throat and he wailed again, fought for breath as pain too intense to bear ripped at his insides.

He didn’t love that woman—didn’t know her at all.  Didn’t love the baby. 

But seeing her like that—not being able to help her was absolutely the worst feeling he’d ever experienced in his life.    In the course of his job, Cade had seen hundreds of people die in the last six years, caused some of their deaths himself.  It hadn’t affected him in the least, but now?  He insides were raw, the guilt so strong he was unable to process the pain he felt.

Because she was innocent, had done nothing
.  Another wail built in his chest.  She didn’t deserve to die like that—especially with him behind the bullet that killed her.

Cade looked up and backlit in the doorway was a dark-haired angel.  He blinked twice, tried to make his eyes focus on the apparition but she smiled, blew him a kiss then disappeared.  Behind her was Cecelia, and Cade thought he might just be losing his fucking mind.

His body started shaking and he grabbed his knees again and rocked there as she walked toward him and knelt down. 

“Why are there streaks of blood on your arms?  Why is your shirt covered in blood?” she asked softly, her eyes liquid jewels as she placed her hand on his shoulder.  Heat zipped down his body to warm the coldness inside him.  “Why are your beautiful eyes brown?”

It hit him then what she was so upset about.  He looked at his arms and sure enough brown streaks that looked like dried blood ran over his shoulders in rivulets down to his elbows.  He looked at his shirt and it was blotchy and brown too.  Hilarity bubbled in his stomach until it tickled at the back of his throat.

She tipped his chin up and her eyebrows crashed together.  “Why are you smiling?  Is that blood or did you fall into a vat of orange dye?  Your face is even blotched with it.”

Yeah he was losing it, he thought, as he felt his lips twitch, heard the laughter rumble in his chest.  “It’s my Domingo Blanco disguise, Brat—I’m not bleeding.”

“Domingo Blanco?” she asked looking even more confused.

“My Spanish alter-ego in Columbia.”  He reached up and dragged one contact and then the other out of his eyes, then smiled at her as he dropped them in the toilet and pulled the handle.  “I won’t be needing these anymore.”

“Why do you look like an Oompah Loompah?”

“Tanning lotion that I was supposed to let set for twenty-four hours before I took a shower or sweat.  I did a lot of sweating in Mexico.”  Cade pulled her to him for a hug, and held her tight and his insides finally settled.  “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“You do stink,” she mumbled into his neck then pulled back with her nose wrinkled.  “I’m getting the code to my brother’s quarters because you deserve a soak in that tub in his bathroom, and I’m going to wash your back.” 

Cecelia rested on her knees to look at him for a long minute then leaned in to drop a kiss on his cheek, before she stood and turned to walk out.  Instead of waiting for her to come back, he pushed up to his feet, rinsed his mouth thoroughly with some mouthwash at the sink then walked out into the hallway.  He heard female laughter from down the hall and it sounded like they were having a party in the conference room or something.  Huffing a breath, totally not knowing why he walked down there, he stopped in the doorway.

Allison Rooks, Lou Ellen, Taylor and Susan—and
Dexter
—sat at the table.  They stopped their conversation when they saw him.  

“Thank God, Carlos Ramos rescued you, Senator Rooks,” he said with a relieved smile, and not a small amount of guilt.  This woman could be dead right now if Carlos hadn’t pulled off saving her.

“Carlos
Ramos
?” Lou Ellen repeated with a snort.  “That man couldn’t find his ass
or
a
warrant
with both hands.  The only reason my best friend is sitting here is because the women of Deep Six Security are badass Texas girls who are not to be messed with.”

Taylor and Susan beamed, and Cade frowned.  What in the hell had these women done while they were gone, he wondered with fear clawing at his gut.

Dexter cleared his throat and frowned, and Lou Ellen grinned. 

“And the only reason those rednecks will never be a threat to society again is because of this young man with the crazy toys and even crazier plans.  He had them bagged before
Carlos
ever got there.”  Her gaze swung from Dexter who was grinning now to Cade.  “How was your Mexican vacation, hotshot?” she asked.

Cade’s frown deepened, and anger simmered inside of him, but Cecelia’s hand on his arm snuffed it out.  “Your bath awaits, milord,” she said with a laugh.  “Sue, I hope you’re not wanting a bath anytime soon, because this could take a while.”

“I’m good, but Logan’s in there I think,” she replied.

“No, he’s
not
,” Dave grumbled, as he stomped past the conference room to his office where he slammed the door.

Cee Cee smiled.  “I ran him out, because he’d hogged the bathroom long enough.  Just like when he was a kid.”

Susan laughed, and shook her head. “I need to learn that trick from you.”

“No trick—you just flush the toilet until he comes out,” Cee Cee replied smugly.

Laughter shot up Cade’s body and flew past his lips, and the knot in his gut loosened.  He gave it free rein and the release felt so damned good.  He laughed until Cecelia grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall to the door to Logan’s quarters. 

She punched in the code then opened the door and held it for him.  Cade walked inside and was pretty damned impressed with the setup.  Cee Cee didn’t let him dawdle though, she pushed him through the outer room, through what had to be Susan and Dave’s bedroom to the doorway of a spectacular bath where he saw a deep jetted tub filling with water. 

“Give me those clothes so I can send them out to the burn barrel.”

His muscles quivered and he had no problem shucking his clothes quickly.  His cargo pants clanked as they hit the floor though, and he quickly jerked them up to feel the pockets.   Four of the grenades he’d stashed in the pocket were still there, and his stomach rolled.

“Oh no—you’re getting that look again.  Just give them to me and get in the tub,” she ordered grabbing the pants but he held on.

“There are four grenades in the pocket.”

“
Grenades
?!?” she screeched, letting the pants go to take a step back.

“Yeah, I ah, only used one of the five I took, so we need to put these in a safe place.  I’d give them to Dave or Caleb.”  He walked over to set the pants on the counter and shoved them back toward the mirror.  “They’ll be fine until I get done.”

He shucked his shirt and curled his lip as he dropped the stiff, stained tank to the floor.  With a sigh he walked to the tub and leaned over to skim his fingers through the deliciously warm water.  That would do wonders for the stiffness in his muscles, he thought, as he reached for the knobs to turn off the faucet. 

Suddenly a stinging pain took his breath and his body tensed.  Before he could recover another shot of pain sliced through him as a harder slap was delivered.  Cade twisted around to grab Cecelia’s wrist before she could deliver the third. 

“What the
fuck
are you doing, Brat?!?” he demanded, looking down into her laughing eyes.

“Taylor told me that you wouldn’t let me go with you and spanked me because you love me, so I was telling you the same,” she replied with a throaty giggle she covered with her hand.

Cade’s insides melted and he pulled her to him, but she pushed her hands into his chest to stop him. “I’m not hugging you until the Ooompah Loompah orange is off,” she said, her lips twitching.  “Get in the tub, and turn on the jets.”

He turned to the tub, but glanced back over his shoulder warily a few times as he stepped into the water, and when he sat down his body did quiver as he released a long sigh.  Sliding deeper until all but his face was covered by the silky water, tiredness dragged him under and he woke up fast sputtering from the water he’d inhaled.

“You look like a goldfish, but you aren’t one, Mr. Winters,” Cecelia said and his eyes flew to her where she stood gorgeously naked by the step with a rough-looking loofah and a bottle of liquid dish soap?  Cade was so damned frustrated that he was too tired to do a damned thing about the surge of blood that rushed to his cock.

“Why can’t we use bath soap?” he asked.

“Trust me on this—this isn’t my first rodeo with cheap tanning lotion,” she replied, as she stepped into the tub with him.  “Scoot up so I can sit behind you.”

She squeezed in behind him and he sighed as he relaxed back against her and she rested her calves over his thighs.  Her skin felt like warm, wet silk against his back as he heard her squeeze soap onto the loofah.  The first shock of the rough pad over his nipple sent an electric shock through him and water sloshed over the edge of the tub as he sat up.

“Are you trying to peel my skin off?” he shouted, looking back over his shoulder at her and she frowned.

“No, I’ll just use my hands—lie back,” she said, her voice deflated.

Cade relaxed back against her and her soap-slick hands rubbed his shoulders and he moaned, she slid them over his chest, then up to his neck where she massaged behind his ears with her thumbs.  Her fingers swept up his neck bring the soap up under his chin, then she rinsed her hands and lapped water on him to rinse off the soap.  His body felt like a noodle after she repeated the process again, adding in his cheeks this time to her soapy massage.  With every sweep of her magic hands more of his tension eased and he slid lower into the water.