Rescuing Rayne (20 page)

G
host’s house
was just as he said it was. Smack-dab in the middle of a small neighborhood. It had three bedrooms and was just big enough not to feel stifling. The first two days, Rayne had done a lot of sleeping. Ghost had slipped her a nighttime aspirin the first evening and she’d slept for fourteen hours straight.

She’d woken up feeling much better. Ghost had made a huge lunch and they’d sat around the table talking for at least two hours. She hadn’t slept as long the next time, but still managed to sleep through the entire night without budging.

They’d fought for the first time when Rayne had wanted to take a shower. Ghost had reminded her the doctor said not to get the stitches wet, and Rayne countered that he’d said not
too
wet.

Rayne knew Ghost was just trying to take care of her, but she felt disgusting and needed that shower like she needed air to breathe. The sponge baths she’d received at the hospital, while refreshing, weren’t the same as being able to fully wash herself.

Finally just walking away from Ghost, she stomped—as well as she
could
stomp with her still-aching ankles—to the bathroom. She thought about locking the door, but felt better about Ghost being able to get to her easily if something
did
happen.

Stepping under the hot water was one of the best feelings in the world. She swore she could literally feel the Egyptian dust sluicing off her.

After the way-too-short shower, she sat on the toilet seat with a damp towel wrapped around her body and examined her ankles and wrists for the first time.

Rayne wasn’t vain, she’d never been the kind of woman men immediately hit on when she went out, but she wasn’t hideous either. She had curves in all the right places, too many for some men, but she’d been asked out enough to know men generally found her attractive.

But staring at her torn and scarred skin, seeing the black stitches in her skin and remembering how she’d gotten the wounds, was…upsetting to say the least.

She recalled every moment of her time on that mattress. How humiliated she’d felt, how desperate and helpless…how scared. Seeing the result of her futile struggles, and remembering how the man translating her torture session had said the more her blood flowed, the better man Moshe would be, was simply too much. For a moment, she swore she could hear the heavily accented English in her brain, describing in detail how she’d be raped over and over and over again.

Rayne cried. She cried for herself. She cried for the two women she didn’t know who’d most likely gone through the same thing she had, but worse, because whatever boys were doing the rituals had probably had time to go through it with them. She hoped with everything inside her that they’d been rescued as she had. Even if they’d been violated, they could get help and hopefully live their lives far away from the monsters who’d hurt them.

After a while, Rayne didn’t know why she was crying, just that she couldn’t stop.

In the middle of her breakdown, Ghost suddenly appeared. Rayne would’ve been upset, but she was so glad to see him, to have him wrap her in his arms where she felt safe. Rayne latched on to him as he picked her up carefully without a word, and she buried her face in his neck.

Ghost’s stomach clenched at the sound of Rayne’s anguish. He’d been waiting for her to break down for two days, and while he hated that it had happened, it was also a relief. She was strong, one of the strongest women he’d ever met, but he knew she had to deal with what had happened sooner or later.

She’d had the distraction of being in the hospital and dealing with her pain and wounds, and then her brother and Mary, then moving in with him temporarily…but she’d finally had enough time to think, to remember what had happened.

Careful not to jostle her wounds, Ghost carried her into the living room and sat on his couch, settling Rayne in his lap. The towel she’d been wearing had come loose and he pulled it free. It was damp and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen and examined every inch of her body before. He pulled a soft, fuzzy throw blanket from the back of the sofa over her and tucked her into his chest and rocked, letting her cry.

It took about twenty minutes, but finally Rayne’s tears began to subside and she lay docile in his arms, sniffing every now and then.

“Need a tissue, Princess?”

Ghost felt her nod against him and reached over to grab a couple from the box next to the couch. One of her arms came up from where she’d held the fluffy blanket against both their chests and she not-so daintily blew her nose. Without lifting her head or saying a word, she held the used tissue out, as if she were the princess he called her, and Ghost took it with a smile, dropping it on the small table to throw away later.

She settled back against his chest. Finally, she murmured, “Am I naked?”

Ghost smiled. “Yup.”

“Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”

He outright laughed that time. “Princess, you’re sitting in my lap without a stitch of clothing on. Of course I’m happy to see you.” He sobered and asked, “Feel better?”

He liked how she took a minute to think about his question before answering.

“Yeah. I do. I just…I looked at my wrists and ankles for the first time…really looked, and remembered. It just kinda hit me.”

“I’m not surprised. You’ve been dealing with a lot of other stuff…other than what happened to you.”

Rayne nodded in agreement in his arms. “Did you really kill him?”

Ghost hadn’t expected the question, but he supposed he should’ve. She’d been hurt and panicked when they’d been escaping and had the conversation. “Yeah, I’m ninety-five percent sure I did.”

“Can you tell me?”

He appreciated her asking, and not demanding. If nothing else, it boded well for their future. She probably didn’t realize the significance of what she’d done, but he did. “When Sarah and the other women you’d been held with were rescued, Sarah mentioned you and was frantic to let us know you’d been taken away from them. We began a search in the area where the other women were found. You were in the last room on the hallway, very close to where one of our explosives was set.”

“That’s what scared them all away. The room started crumbling in and they all ran like little girls.”

Ghost chuckled and squeezed Rayne affectionately. “I swear to God, Rayne, I’ll never forget entering that room and seeing you there. I was relieved you were okay, then pissed at the way you were trussed up.”

Realizing Ghost needed this as much as she did, Rayne didn’t interrupt, but let him talk.

“Anyway, before we got to your room, we were searching all the other rooms in the hall. We entered one and there were three people inside. The youngest raised his rifle, probably thinking we wouldn’t kill him because he was a kid.”

“But you did.” Rayne’s voice was low and Ghost couldn’t read it.

“Yeah. We did.”

“What was he wearing?”

Ghost realized that even though they’d had this conversation when they were bringing her out of the building, she obviously didn’t remember it. “A blue shirt and tan pants.”

“When we were all being held together, he came in and he seemed so nice. He wandered over to us and I smiled at him, trying to be friendly, trying to make him see that we were people. Innocent, unarmed humans. I knew it probably wasn’t smart because Chase had always told me never to do anything to stand out, and even the littlest thing could put me in the crosshairs of a bad guy if I did. He wasn’t wrong, obviously.”

Rayne sighed, loud and long. Ghost didn’t interrupt or otherwise rush her. She’d tell the story in her own time and at her own pace. Whatever she needed, he’d give her.

Finally she continued, “He smiled back. I thought he was shy. I thought maybe I’d remind him of his sisters or mother. I thought he’d go back to the other two men and tell them not to hurt us.” Rayne paused then continued sadly, “But he didn’t. It was a selection. Because I smiled at him, he chose me.”

“It’s not your fault, Princess.”

She shook her head against him and finally picked her head up far enough so she could look Ghost in the eyes. “I thought I was going to die. He was crouched over me, his penis in his hand, stroking himself, getting ready to rip off my panties and rape me…while all those other men looked on and cheered. I was scared, Ghost.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Ghost didn’t think he could handle hearing any more, but he would. For her. He shifted under Rayne until he was lying supine on the couch, his head propped up on the arm of the sofa. He adjusted the blanket until it covered all of Rayne and he held her to his chest. “I know you were. Anyone would’ve been scared.”

“But you know what?”

Her words were muffled against him, but Ghost could still easily hear her. “What?”

“I was pissed too. Pissed that he’d ruin my memories of us. Ruin sex for me forever.” She shrugged awkwardly in Ghost’s arms. “It’s stupid. I knew I was going to die, but I didn’t want to remember
him
doing that to me. I wanted my last memory to be of us.”

“You’re safe now, Princess. He’s dead and can’t do it to anyone else. You’re here with me. And I swear to you, whenever you’re ready, we can make more memories to block out the bad ones.”

She nodded and lay still. Ghost didn’t say another word, but let Rayne work through her memories at her own speed.

“I like this.” Her words were strong and firm.

“Me too. You feel good on top of me.”

Rayne picked her head up at that. “You know, we didn’t do it this way back in London.”

Ghost smirked, glad her mood had changed…at least for now. He had no doubts the memories would creep in again, but he’d be there for her. He’d listen to her relive what had happened over and over again if that’s what she needed.

“Yeah, we didn’t quite make it that far, did we?”

Rayne put her head back down and Ghost felt her fingers flex against his upper chest. “What are we really doing, Ghost?”

This
he was expecting sooner or later. “We’re getting to know each other. Dating. Seeing each other. Going steady…whatever you want to call it.”

“I’m having a hard time getting over the lies.”

Ghost loved how honest Rayne was with him, even if her words sliced through him deeper than any enemy’s blade ever could.

“I’m sorry I caused you pain, but, Rayne, I couldn’t have done anything different. I’d just come off a mission and was flying incognito back to the States. I had no idea I’d meet the woman made just for me when that flight was canceled.”

He heard her indrawn breath, but continued on, “I’d offered that one night before I realized you were
it
. Somewhere between lunch and that damn balcony, I figured it out, though. I knew if I was ever going to settle down, if I was ever going to spend the rest of my life with one woman, it’d be you. But I still lied to you. I spewed out that fucked-up story about Whitney Pumperfield. I’d already told you I was John Benbrook. I was selfish. I knew if I told you I was lying, you’d disappear and I’d never get a chance to hold you in my arms. To see what it was all about.”

“See what
what
was all about? It’s not like you’d never had a one-night stand before, Ghost.”

“To see if caring about someone made a difference in bed.”

Rayne was silent for a moment then tentatively asked, “Did it?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

She did.

“And then I saw that third tattoo.”

Rayne propped herself up on his chest, careful not to dig her elbows into him. “Yeah, what was up with that?”

He laughed a little at the interest on her face. “You have no idea what that did to me.”

“I have a little idea,” she teased, obviously remembering how he’d taken her from behind and pulled out and exploded all over her ink.

Ghost smiled and brought his hand up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “It was as if you had
me
drawn on you.”

“What? I don’t understand. I didn’t even know you before that night.”

“I know, and that’s what made it even more amazing. Every single thing on that tattoo, besides the flower, was me. It was as you were marked as mine before you even
knew
me. The eagle…the symbol of the United States and all it stands for. The Army logo and the rifle…I know it was for your brother, but it epitomizes
me
. Even the damn lightning bolt. Did you know the Delta Force crest has a lightning bolt in it?”

By the look of surprise in her eyes, he could tell she didn’t.

“Yeah. So it was a bit of a shock seeing that on your back. I should’ve known then, it was a big enough sign, but I still didn’t believe it.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. Look to your left, Princess.”

At the weird shift in topic, Rayne did as Ghost asked without thought.

“Look at the third shelf down.”

Rayne gasped at the picture Ghost had on his bookshelf.

It was them. It was the picture he’d shown her at the hospital, of her in his arms, laughing up at him. Even though she’d been at his place for two days, she’d slept most of that time, and the rest of the time she’d either been eating or hanging with Ghost in his kitchen. She hadn’t really checked out his place at all.

“Now keep looking around. Do you see any other pictures? Anything else in this room that shows I have an ounce of personality?”

Rayne smiled at his self-deprecating comment, but did as he asked. There wasn’t a single picture anywhere, not even of his team. There were no pictures on the walls, only a huge-ass television set and books upon books on the shelves flanking it.

Ghost took Rayne’s head in his and turned her back to him. “I lied to you back then. I’m sorry. But honestly, I’d probably do it again the exact same way. I’m Delta, Rayne. To the marrow of my bones. I will protect my country and my team with everything I have. Before you, that meant not letting anyone in. My parents died a long time ago, and I don’t have any siblings. I’m not close with my aunts and uncles and have no idea if I even have cousins out there somewhere. This team is my family. The Army is my family. I’d die to keep them safe.”