Jett's Wild Wolf (Mystic Wolves 3) (21 page)

“Maybe in another mile or two.”

“It’s going to rain soon.”

“Yeah, I was tracking a monsoon that was heading this way.” 

Drake, who had been leading, stopped at a clearing.  Everyone sat down to rest.

Darius helped Clint to lay Lydia onto her side on a silver survival blanket.  She didn’t even stir.

“Go ask Mason how much time we’re going to be here.  I want to stitch up her left wrist, and start on her back.”  Darius was already opening up his medical gear.

Clint took one last look at Lydia and then walked over towards his Lieutenant.  He gave a quick chin tilt so that he would walk away from the younger sister. 

“I told the family that they need to let us take care of Lydia,” Mason said.  “They want to spend time with her, and I understand.  But I explained they all need to conserve their energy, and that our medic was the best in the Navy.”

“I’m surprised they agreed.”

“They’re dead on their feet.  They would have argued, but I think making their way across camp is just too much for them.”  Mason looked over to where Beth was sitting against a tree.  “I’ve been trying to get Beth to talk, but she’s keeping quiet.  Something bad happened, did Lydia talk to you?”

“She said that the men tried to rape her sister, but that she did something to make them mad, and that’s why they whipped her.”  Clint gritted his teeth.  His T-Shirt had been soaked through with blood.

“Whatever happened to Beth was not good.  I’m glad to hear she wasn’t raped, but she’s definitely been abused.  She’s really scared of me.  Lydia’s bravery is amazing, but that whipping she took is horrific.”

“I wonder what the parents were doing.” Mason and Clint looked over to where the older Hildalgos were huddled together.  “Look, Dare wants to give Lydia some intensive first aid, can we stop for the night?” 

“Yep.  We’ll camp here until dawn.”

Clint went back to Darius and hunkered down beside him and Lydia.  He was getting ready to stitch up Lydia’s wrist.

“These are not ideal circumstances.”

“I didn’t hear you bitching this much when you had to sew up Finn,” Clint joked wanly.

“Finn could give a shit about scars.”  Unfortunately Clint knew the drill.  He held Lydia’s forearm, and waited for Darius to numb the area.  Lydia didn’t flinch.  They waited, then Darius did a thorough cleaning of the wound before beginning to sew.  He was almost done when she began to wake up. 

“Please, no more.”  She moaned in Spanish.  Clint began talking to her in a soft voice, he felt like shit as he had to continue to hold her down.

“How much longer Dare?”

“Almost done.”

“Shhhh, Lydia, it’s me Clint.  I promise you’re safe.  Darius is putting stitches into your wrist so you don’t get an infection.  Please Lydia, listen to my voice.  Can you hear me?  You’re safe.”  Clint repeated those words over and over.

Finally she heard him.

“Clint?”  She stopped struggling.

“Yes Baby, it’s me.” 

“Done.”

Clint let go of Lydia.  “There you go.  Try to keep your wrist immobile for a while, okay?  We don’t want you undoing all of Darius’ hard work.”

Lydia tried to sit up, and Clint helped her.  She looked at her swollen and stitched up flesh.  She winced.

“Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“I anesthetized the area.  Even with the shot I’m going to give you, when the numbness wears off, it’s going to hurt.”  Darius carefully measured the amount of liquid that went into the syringe, and administered it.

“Will this knock her out?”

“If I give her more they will,” Darius admitted.

“I don’t want anymore.  I refuse to weigh down Clint as he has to carry me.  It’s easier when I’m awake.  I won’t hold still for any more shots.”  The small woman in her baggy black shirt was staring down the two of them.  She sounded like a hissing kitten. It would be comical except for the lines of pain on her face.

“Lydia, we’re making camp now.  I can see how much pain you’re in just from your back.  Let’s get you something that will help you sleep through the night, okay?” 

“She giving you trouble?” Finn asked as he came over with two large tarps.  Lydia looked frightened and pushed closer to Clint.  Finn immediately realized his mistake and crouched down in front of her.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I was just teasing.  I love seeing you giving Darius and Clint a little bit of what for.  It’s good for them.”

She continued to stay burrowed next to Clint, and he didn’t mind that at all. 

“It’s okay.  I’m just jumpy.”

“I’m here to help you set up camp.  Guys, hit the high ground close to the tree, it’s definitely going to rain.”

Clint picked up Lydia, mindful of her back.  Darius and Finn spread out the ground tarp over the roots of the tree so it was up high and the rain wouldn’t pool around them.  Then they affixed the other tarp to the tree and some spikes in the ground so they would be covered.  Lydia would be wrapped in the silver survival blanket.  As far as Clint was concerned they were living large, but for a woman who had never camped in a jungle and had just been tortured, this had to be hell on Earth.

“Thank you so much,” she said as she looked at what they had devised.

Both Finn and Darius gave her odd looks.  Obviously their thoughts had been mirroring his own.

“It’s the best we can do for you tonight Ms. Hildago.”

“I know, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my family.”  Clint looked down at her and saw nothing but sincerity. 
Amazing, fucking amazing.

“It’s our job Ma’am.” Finn answered.

Darius and Finn had got some foliage and put it down under the spot where Lydia was going to lay.  Clint put her down on her side, and covered her with a blanket.  Each man was going to stick with one of the family, so that if problems arose, they would be able to protect them.

Drake had first watch, so he gave over his pack for Lydia to use as her pillow.  Seconds after they got settled under the tarp it was as if the heavens opened up and started pouring buckets of water.  The only saving grace was that it was coming down straight instead of sideways.

Despite the rain it was hot and humid.  He hadn’t minded carrying Lydia, rescuing innocents was exactly the reason he had signed up to be a SEAL, but he had been getting really hot.  He could have gone another couple of miles, but the other Hildago’s weren’t going to make it.  Mason had done the right thing to set up camp. 

Even though Darius had said that the shot wouldn’t cause Lydia to sleep, she was dozing.  He looked her over, and saw where the mosquitos had gotten to her arms.  Now with the rain acting as a protective barrier they shouldn’t be a problem, but he should have thought of bug repellant.  The last thing she needed was more pain.  Her eyes opened.

“I can feel you staring at me.  Are you worried that I’m going to be a liability?”

He snorted.  “I was kicking my ass for not taking better care of you.”

“What are you talking about?”  She shifted and he heard the palm fronds rustle beneath the tarp.

He tugged at her hand, and brushed a spot on her upper arm.  “You’re getting eaten alive with bug bites.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

He guessed she hadn’t.  He saw where blood had seeped through the gauze at her wrists, and now he was seeing where the shirt was stuck in places from the dried blood.  It was going to hurt if she moved around while she slept.

“I’ll get out the repellant before we head out tomorrow.  I have an MRE for you to eat right now.”  He pulled that out of his back pack.

“What’s an MRE?”

“It stands for Meal Ready to Eat.  It’s not gourmet, but it beats a protein bar.  He pulled out a chicken teriyaki packet, and opened it for her.”

“Thank you.”

He tried not to wolf his down, but he failed, like usual.  Lydia didn’t seem to have much of an appetite, she only finished half of hers.  He looked at her and realized her eyes were glassy.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.  It hurts a little.”  Talk about an understatement.  She had to be in a hell of a lot of pain.  Clint reached out and touched her forehead.  Good, no fever.  But still, she needed more pain meds.

“Darius,” he yelled.

“Right here.  I’m your bunk mate.”  Darius was wearing the standard issue poncho.  He squatted down next to Lydia.

“How you doing Ms. Hildago?”

“Call me Lydia.”  She looked over her shoulder at Darius and gave him a wan attempt at a smile.

“Okay Lydia, can you tell me how you’re doing? What’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

“Probably a four.”

“Now how about you don’t lie to me.”  She closed her eyes and said nothing.

“She’s stubborn.  She doesn’t have a fever, but her eyes are glassy and she only ate half of her dinner.”  Clint took the food from her hand.

“Can’t say I blame her, you gave her the teriyaki.  You should have given her the stroganoff.  Lydia, you’ve got to eat to keep your strength up.  We brought enough to feed us and your family.”  Lydia opened her eyes and turned to look at both of them, wincing in the process.

“I’ll try to eat more later.”

“Let’s get you a shot so you can sleep.”

“Okay.”

It took five minutes for the shot to take effect, but when they did Clint finally relaxed.  He would bet his bottom dollar her pain level had been closer to ten. 

“Dare, did some of the cuts on her back need to be stitched up as well?”

“I considered it, but with all the movement, they would just get ripped out and cause more damage.  It was better to do butterfly bandages.”

“Dammit.  What is the likelihood of infection?”

““Pretty high.  Her mother told me she was sick with a cold when she was taken.  We need to keep her wounds dry.  We need this damn rain to stop.”  Lydia shifted in her sleep and moaned, then she started to cough.  Darius gave her a grim look.  Clint pushed closer to her front so that they were touching, trying to give her as much warmth as possible.  He watched as Darius moved closer to her back without touching her, so that he too could provide some body heat.

This time Lydia let out more of a relaxed sigh.  Clint closed his eyes, maybe he would be able to get some sleep.

*****

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C
aitlyn O’Leary was raised in a small town in the Pacific Northwest.  She has always been an avid reader.  Her earliest creative writing endeavors consisted of “ghost writing” exercises where she pretended to be her younger brothers and sister when she did their homework assignments.

Years in corporate America honed her ability to manipulate words by day and at night she read everything she could get her hands on, including many steamy romances.

Now happily married to her long, tall Texan and living in Southern California, Caitlyn has finally found the time to write erotic happily ever afters.  She enjoys swimming, traveling, babysitting for her nieces and nephews, spending time with friends and family, and doing lots of “research” with her husband for upcoming novels.

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The Found Series

Revealed
, Book One

Forsaken
, Book Two

Healed
, Book Three

Beloved
, Book Four (February 2016)

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Navy SEAL Series

Her Vigilant SEAL,
Book One

Her Loyal SEAL,
Book Two

Her Adoring SEAL,
Book Three (Novella)

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Fate Harbor Series Published by Siren/Bookstrand

Trusting Chance
, Book One

Protecting Olivia
, Book Two

Claiming Kara
, Book Three

Isabella’s Submission
, Book Four

Cherishing Brianna
, Book Five

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Forget Me Knot

Crawley Creek Ranch

By: Lori King

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“Y
ou can’t keep doing this to yourself, Romeo.” Drannon stared down at the half-naked form of his brother sprawled out on the front porch. It was lucky Roman had made so much noise stumbling around drunk, or he might have frozen to death before morning. As it was, he’d woken Drannon from a sound sleep, and as usual, Drannon had gone to his brother’s rescue. Dragging Roman’s limp body up over his shoulder, and carrying him out of the February night air, he grumbled under his breath, “Going to end up poisoning your blood with alcohol, or get some sort of damn STD. Why the hell do you think you have to bang every woman this side of the Mississippi anyway? Stupid. Just plain ol’stupid is what that is.”

There was no response from the unconscious man, but Drannon felt better as he spewed out his feelings on the recurrent situation. For months he and the other guys had been bailing Roman out and cleaning him up after his binge partying sessions. Maybe it was time to give the kid an ultimatum. Dry out and straighten up, or...

It was the “or” that was the problem. Drannon would never be able to kick his brother off the ranch, no matter how stupid he behaved. Crawley Creek was all Roman had, all any of them had, and it belonged to the whole lot of them.

With one final curse, he dumped Roman onto the sofa and headed for the kitchen in search of a midnight snack. The bright light of the fridge made him squint as he reached for the milk to go with the cookies he knew Marilyn had just put in the cookie jar.

“I thought I heard something.” Vin’s voice startled him, and he choked on his cookie spewing crumbs all over the counter top. Laughing, Vin slapped him on the back, “Sorry D, didn’t mean to scare you. Didn’t you bring your teddy-bear downstairs with you?”