Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 (21 page)

R
anger woke in an instant
, grabbed for his gun on the nightstand, and came up empty. Dream. He’d been dreaming. The sun was just starting to chase away the dark shadows of night. Ranger sat up and dug his palms into his eyes, rubbing the sleep away. Amy lay curled on her side, her features soft with peace and sleep, a small smile on her lips.

"Good morning, brother."

That voice.

"Shane." Ranger’s gaze shot up from his woman to the man in the corner chair past the foot of the bed. Then he stopped thinking. He stopped breathing.

The ghost of his best friend taunted him. Only he wasn't a ghost. He was there, flesh and blood, staring at Ranger in bed with his wife.

“How did you get here?”

Shane’s reddish-brown hair was long and tangled, like the beard covering his narrow face. He’d lost weight, his arms and shoulders smaller, but corded. His green eyes held a hard glint that went beyond the typical post-deployment shell.

"Not exactly the homecoming I imagined." Shane remained leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees, his gaze unwavering.

Ranger had never felt threatened around his friend, but his fingers itched for his pistol.

“I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead.” A spike of shock lined with guilt buried in Ranger’s back. Shane was alive. Alive.

Which meant Amy was still married.

“Apparently you were mistaken.” Why was Shane just sitting there?

“You were dead. Your casket is in Mercy Cemetery. I lowered it into the ground myself." Not dead, alive. Ranger tried to swallow past the huge lump of emotion growing in his throat, choking off his air. His ability to think. To act.

His worst nightmare was his dream come true. The never-ending cycle of blame for leaving Shane behind, the aching crawling guilt for his death, could end. But a new nightmare, worse than any other, would begin.

That’s when he felt it. The fear. Fear of losing Amy.

"Funny thing about coffins that don't have bodies in them," Shane said.

A wave of anger mixed with the fear, exploding before Ranger could leash it in. “Where the fuck have you been?" His voice boomed through the room.

Amy shot straight awake, turning bewildered eyes his way. “What’s wrong?”

Only he couldn’t speak, the lump of emotion had grown into a mountain of guilt and rage. Ranger’s shoulders heaved, his heart slamming against his ribs like he’d climbed that mountain only to tumble down the other side.

The man he’d prayed for. Cried for. Pleaded for. The man he’d left behind sat ten feet away. His very presence threatening Ranger’s sanity.

Amy stiffened and he closed his eyes, unwilling or unable, to watch the love of his life slip through his fingers.

“Shane?” Her voice was thin, reedy. Trembling from the inside out.

Ranger clenched the sheets, fighting not to touch her. His every instinct screamed for him to hold her, shield her from her husband.

"Good morning, wife."

Horror crept down Ranger’s spine, and his eyes opened, staring at Shane back from the dead. This couldn’t be real. Not now. Not when he’d given his heart away.

Amy paled, her deep brown eyes going stark with shock. “Shane, is that really you?”

Ranger’s heart skyrocketed into his throat when Amy's gaze cut to his own. He saw it all there. The confusion. The question. The shock. But under all that he saw something that gave him hope. He saw her love.

Ranger took a deep breath and forced himself to think. He grabbed Amy’s free hand. Shane had been gone for over a year now. He wasn't going to give up Amy to a fucking ghost.

“How touching. My wife and my best friend. How long did you wait? Or did you even wait?” Ranger watched as Shane finally showed some emotion. His deadened responses had reminded him of a corpse. Now his calm façade cracked. “Were you fucking before we even went on deployment?”

Anger. That, he could deal with. He knew how to fight that. “Don’t you dare talk to her like that.”

“I’ll talk to her any damn way I please. She’s my wife.” Shane’s words whiplashed through the room.

“Was your wife. You were declared dead.”

“Something I intend to rectify.”

“Over my dead fucking body.” Ranger couldn’t stop the fury rolling through him. He’d fought so long for her, just to lose her? No way. Not now.

“I can arrange that.” Shane rose from the chair, his lean physique even more obvious. His clothes were clean, pressed, but his hair and face dirty with grit.

“Stop it.” Amy rose up on her knees, clutching the sheet to her nakedness. “Both of you.”

Tears streamed down her parchment white cheeks. Ranger’s heart clenched in the noose of her obvious pain. He forced the vehement response back. She was hurting. They were all hurting. Amy held up a hand and took a shaky breath. “Shane, please, give me a minute to think and get dressed. Then we can all sit down and have a conversation.”

Shane didn't move a muscle. His eyes hardened and his lips twisted into some sort of sardonic smile. "Are you telling me to leave my best friend alone in bed with my naked wife?"

Every muscle in Ranger’s body went tense, ready to spring. “I warned you.”

Amy’s ice cold hand squeezed his, pulling his attention. She needed his support right now. Needed him to be her rock.

How could he be her rock when his foundation was crumbling? He tried to imagine what kind of shock it must be for Shane to come home to this. No one thought he was coming home ever again.

Ranger had buried him. Cried over him. Mourned him. And now here he was, sitting at the end of the bed as if he still owned the place. How was it possible for him to show up, alive and in one piece?

Ranger had been there when the box containing two of Shane’s fingers was delivered to Captain Grey. He’d seen the DNA test results confirming Shane’s identity.

"We’ll settle what’s between us later. I’m not asking you to do anything but give Amy a minute of privacy. You can do that for her can’t you?”

Murderous rage flashed across Shane’s features. His eyes bloodshot, his cheeks hollowed out. Ranger waited on the attack, but Shane didn’t move, his normally quick temper hadn’t reared its ugly head. That was one of the reasons they had been best friends. Ranger was the slow burner, a joker and a good time guy. He balanced out Shane’s quick temper nicely and was usually able to talk him down from fights.

Ranger knew he wouldn’t be able to talk him down from this.

Small sniffles interrupted his thoughts. Both men turned to Amy. Ranger watched as Shane’s gaze softened a fraction. Amy cried silently, tears streaming down her face.

Shane nodded once, and abruptly strode from the room. Ranger didn’t take his gaze from the dead man walking until the door shut behind him. Something was off here. Something not quite right.

Shane had been ambushed and taken hostage before Ranger’s very eyes on their last mission. Then he’d been confirmed dead. Killed by the terrorist Al Seriq. So how was he here now?

Amy dove into his arms, her silent tears turning into broken sobs. He clutched her tight, part of him wondering-would this be the last time he held her?

He couldn’t sit back and lose her. He leaned back and brushed the strands of hair from her face. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Ranger...”

He didn’t know what else to say. He couldn’t lie to her. He couldn’t tell her everything would be okay. He didn’t know that himself. So he did the only thing he could. He kissed her. Kissed her with every ounce of love and support he possessed.

Amy returned his kiss with desperation, digging her nails into his shoulders, and then she ripped away from him. Her hand flew to her mouth. “We can’t do this now.”

His shaky foundation shifted. No. He wouldn’t let her go. “What do you mean?”

She shuddered, each of her teardrops taking a chunk out of him. Helpless fear took root. What would he do if she chose Shane?

“I...I don’t know. I can’t think. I need to get dressed. Oh, my God. He’s alive. What am I going to do? He saw us.” Her words tumbled out in jagged uneven shards, cutting through his heart. Ranger watched, powerless to do anything to fix her pain, as she stumbled from the bed.

Choose me. Please, choose me.

“Amy, calm down.” Ranger stood and approached her, careful to go slow. She looked ready to fall apart.

“I. Can’t. Breathe.” Amy doubled over, catching her hands on her knees. Ranger dove for her, lifting her upright before she fell.

“Easy. Breath with me. That’s it. Slow.” Ranger wrapped his arms around her, fighting the urgent shudders working through him. He wanted to cry. To scream. To rage. But more than any of those things, he wanted to comfort Amy. “I love you.”

He would do what it took to make her happy. Even if it meant his doom.

When her shaking subsided to a tremble, he took a step back and wiped the tears from her face. “I know you’re shocked. Me too. But I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to, okay?”

She held onto him, nodding after a minute that felt like an hour.

“Good. Now, go get dressed. I’ll be right here.” When Amy disappeared into her closet, Ranger yanked on his jeans. She returned a minute later, covered in a pink sundress. She looked beautiful. Beautiful and shell shocked.

Ranger held out a hand, waited on her to take it, and pulled her down to his lap. He couldn’t shake the niggling sensation that something was off with Shane. "Amy, I'm not leaving you. I meant what I said. Promise me you will stick by my side, at least until you know he’s…okay.”

A fresh wave of tears immediately tumbled from her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“If he’s been held prisoner this long, he could have been tortured. Men don't just reappear a year after their disappearance, the same as they were when they left.”

“Do you think he’s not safe?”

“I don’t know what to think. But I want to be cautious until we do know.”

“And what if nothing is wrong? What if he escaped and has been alone all this time, thinking about me.”

"We’ll find a way. I promise. I love you." Tears threatened his own eyes and he tucked her head against him, needing to hold her. He took a minute and got his emotions under control. She needed him to be strong.

He would be her warrior.

They entered the living room together. Shane sat on the couch staring out the window, lost in his thoughts. A love seat and recliner separated by a coffee table faced the couch.

Ranger stared at the man he considered as close as a brother. So many emotions overwhelmed him. The sense of joy that his friend was not dead. And the sudden shock of having his future plans possibly ripped out from beneath him.

Amy drew attention when she squeezed his hand and let go. He felt proud of her bravery. Amy took the first step forward, leaving Ranger with his feet glued in place.

"Shane?" She said his name softly, as if testing her ability to speak.

Shane stood and Amy approached him, stopping when she stood right next to him. Ranger couldn’t help when his muscles tensed. Shane, although much leaner than before, still towered over her.

Shane reached a hand out and gently touched his wife’s face and then Ranger saw it. Saw tears on his friend’s face and his anger and tension drowned under a wave of guilt. He’d been so busy thinking about himself and his needs that he’d purposely ignored Shane’s.

Ranger took a step back, the outsider intruding on a reunion between husband and wife, a moment that should be private. Not shared. He watched helplessly as Shane took Amy in his arms, hugging her as a shudder worked down his mangy frame. Doubt assailed Ranger. How could he expect their relationship to just...continue?

How could he try to keep Amy? Not from his best friend, not from Shane. How could he ask her to choose between her husband and himself? That he deserved her? But seeing them embrace, jealousy ate at him, burning in his gut. Mine. Just as that thought hit, another trailed on its heels. His.

Unable to stand there and watch his plans unravel, Ranger crept silently to the kitchen and gave them a moment of privacy. Staying close enough to hear everything.

Amy’s sniffles passed through the open doorway. Ranger paced the kitchen, restless. He should be holding her. She needed time. He didn’t want to give it to her. He stopped by the counter and put his head in his hands, trying to hold himself together. Pain. Anger. Jealousy. Love. Hurt. He didn’t know what to feel first.

Jealousy won. It destroyed his altruism. He wanted her. He knew he had no right to want her. No right to feel this way. She wasn’t his wife. It was eating him alive the jealousy he knew he had no right to feel. She wasn't his wife. But God he wanted her more than he wanted to breathe.

Images of her pleading beneath him. Her nails digging into his back. Her skin. Her sweet smell. The taste of her lips driving him crazy. Then the image twisted into one of Shane kissing Amy and he nearly lost control.

Ranger stalked back. Shane pressed his mouth to hers. Ranger’s world shattered.

Ranger’s feet carried him to the couple, standing behind Amy. She broke the embrace and stepped back. Ranger couldn’t see her face, see if she enjoyed that kiss. But he saw Shane’s.

He saw the fury.

“We need to talk.” Ranger grabbed Amy’s hand and attempted to pull her away.

"Let go of my wife." Shane took a menacing step forward.

"She's not yours anymore.” Ranger advanced.

"Stop it!" Amy pushed her hands out, keeping herself bodily between them.

Ranger’s composure slipped, his ability to separate his emotions from logic disappeared. He balled his hand into a fist, ready to attack his friend for touching her.

Shane leaned forward, crowding her between them. His nostrils flared and his lips fell into a tight line. “Are you deaf?”

"You can’t expect her to jump back into a relationship with you after you've been dead for so long."

"Newsflash asshole, I wasn't dead. So technically she’s still mine. She’s always been mine."

"Please, I can't take it if you fight, please stop." Amy pleaded trying to keep them apart. Ranger glanced down, saw her distress, and backed off slightly.