Wolf Haven. Lindsay McKenna
vulnerability, her trust. It humbled him, since he couldn’t help but want her in other ways. She didn’t deserve that kind of reaction from him at all. Instead, Gray forced himself to focus on giving back to Sky, not taking. Too much had been taken from her already.
Sky finally unclenched her hand against his chest and wiped her face with her shaking fingers. Gray caught her hand, holding it within his own. Her hand was so small and white against his large, darkly tanned one. Pressing her hand against his chest, he whispered, “It’s going to be all right, Sky. You’re past the worst of it. Just rest. I’ll be here. I won’t let you be alone right now. I’ll stay with you as long as you want....”
Gray’s roughened words spilled through Sky’s fractured emotional state. Eyes tightly shut, her cheek resting on the damp, silky hair across his chest, she felt his male strength gently surrounding her, making her feel safe. His voice soothed her, and with each ragged breath she took, this new calm chased away the virulent terror still holding her in its invisible grasp.
Gray’s presence brought her back. They shared a common military background. Somewhere in her fragmented mind, Sky wondered if Gray had ever been tortured. It was as if he understood on levels she could never give voice to. And he was here for her. Present. Like a big, bad guard dog.
He was a large man, and she felt so small leaning against him. Gray was holding her gently as he might hold a hurt child. The PTSD, the waterboarding, had stripped her of her own internal strength. Whereas before she had always been the calm, quiet, strong one in charge of the E.R. at Bagram, she now felt as if she were constantly unraveling. Sky had been unable, thus far, to put up boundaries on her wild, rampant feelings, to stop them or not allow them to run her life as they did now.
If she’d been worried Gray wouldn’t understand, or that he’d be disgusted with her as her father had been, she was relieved. Sky had had several episodes of the same nightmare at home, her father aggravated with her, but she didn’t feel anything exuding from Gray right now except care and protection. Sky never thought in a million years she’d ever be the recipient of a SEAL’s guardianship. Right now she was like a starved animal lapping up anything Gray could give to her in the way of emotional support. There was no judgment emanating from him. Every time Gray’s large hand gently trailed across her hair and down her back, Sky felt a little more stable. A little more calm. His mouth lingered near her brow, the warmth of his moist breath flowing across her face. There was such tenderness in this man. She’d never experienced it quite like this. Gray was not only soothing her, but Sky also felt as if his presence were actually, in some miraculous way, feeding her strength she presently didn’t have. Feeding her hope. Tending to her torn soul.
“Better now?” he asked, feeling her sigh in response in his arms. Gray felt her head bob once, felt her unclench her hand and her long fingers smooth out across his upper chest. His flesh leaped and burned beneath her hesitant, innocent touch. He knew Sky wasn’t sexually coming on to him. She was lost in the ugly morass of her injured emotions. Gray shut his eyes tightly, resting his jaw against her hair, holding her a little tighter for a moment.
Sky cleared her throat that ached with tension. “I—I’m sorry....”
“Hush. It’s okay, Sky. I know what you went through. I’m just glad I was nearby when the flashback happened.”
Sky frowned, her mouth compressed. Shame flowed through her. “You shouldn’t have to see this. Or hear me...” In the hospital when she had the nightmares, they gave her an antianxiety drug to calm her down. Her screams woke up everyone else. She shared a six-bed unit with other wounded vets. If she didn’t have the nightmares, then one of them would. No one ever got quality sleep in that unit.
A chuckle rumbled up through Gray’s chest. She hungrily absorbed the sound of it, felt his hand slide along her jaw, tenderly smooth strands behind her ear. God, how pitiful she was. She was so starved for his continuing light caresses. So utterly needy, it shamed her. She was a nurse, the one to bestow care upon those who so desperately needed it. Now she was in their position.
“Hey, we’re vets. We’ve seen combat. SEALs never leave anyone behind, baby. I’m not leaving you behind. Okay?”
Baby. The endearment renewed her hope. A broken sigh escaped from her taut lips. Gray continued to shower her with his attention. How many times in her life as a nurse had she done similarly for her vets who lay broken and hurting in her hospital ward? So many that Sky had lost count.
Gray eased back again, no doubt seeing the tears. “Good tears this time?” he asked, his throat tightening. She looked up at him, feeling her world shift. The corners of his mouth lifted. “Talk to me, Sky.”
Her throat ached with tension from the rawness of her earlier screams. “Y-yes, good tears.” His dark eyes changed and grew kind. Sky leaned against his chest, the soothing sound of his slow heartbeat continuing to calm her. She had no strength with which to move. She didn’t want to anyway.
“How can I help you, Sky?”
His words sank into her heart, and she swallowed hard. “What you’re doing right now,” she whispered brokenly.
Gray nodded and slid his hand down her back. “It helps to talk about it, Sky. Maybe not right now, but later. I’m a good listener. I’ve been in combat. I’ve had friends captured and tortured. I know a little bit of what you’re going through because of them.”
Something broke inside Sky. She realized Gray cared deeply. The low tenor of his voice vibrated through her, giving her the courage she’d lacked for a long time. Opening her eyes, Sky stared out into the darkened living room. Thin, milky streams of moonlight made the window and other areas where the beams struck look gray instead of dark. “I was in a Black Hawk crash. They were flying me and a surgeon to a forward operating base near the Pakistan border. An Army soldier had acute appendicitis and needed immediate emergency surgery.” Sky swallowed and emotionally gathered herself. She told him about the crash, being captured and of Aaron being shot in the head. When she got to her torture, she rasped, “They threw me on a board, covered my face with a cloth and poured water into my nose.” She felt his arms tighten around her, as if trying to protect her from the terrifying torture. Words failed her. The shame and humiliation were right there, eating away at her.
Gray closed his eyes, battling his rage. He forced his emotions deep, opened his eyes and asked in a low tone, “Do you know how many times you were waterboarded?”
Sky shook her head. “I was a captive for two weeks. Th-they would come in two days between each waterboarding bout and do it again. They’d cuff me to that damned table... I lost count. All I know is that by the time the SEAL team came, I was a shadow of myself. They found me quivering in a corner, no clothes on... I—I really don’t remember much after that, Gray. Someone put a blanket around me. The next thing I knew, he lifted me up and carried me in his arms. He got me out of that horrid room. I could breathe fresh air. I heard a helicopter nearby, and that’s the last thing I recall. I woke up in Landstuhl a few days later.”
Sky swallowed hard tears in her voice. “Gray...I didn’t even get to thank the SEALs who rescued me. I feel bad about that. Those guys risked their lives for me....”
“I can find out for you,” he reassured her, pressing a chaste kiss to her brow. “That’s ST3’s territory you were in. I’ll make a call and get the intel. I know you’d probably like to email them, and they’d feel good hearing from you. Okay?” Because it could be part of her ongoing healing process.
Sky wearily nodded, pressing her cheek against his warm, hard chest. The soft, silky hair tickled her chin and nose. Gray’s scent was evergreen soap and his own unique male scent. Inhaling it, Sky felt as if she were inhaling life. “Th-thank you. It would mean so much for me to do at least that much for them. They’re all heroes in my eyes.”
Gray stared into the darkness, his mind moving at light speed. Sky had been waterboarded a lot. It was an ineffective way to gather intel, that he knew. It had been proved that when a prisoner thought he was dying of suffocation, he would say anything to get the waterboarding to stop. And Gray was sure Sky had told them what