Running Fire. Lindsay McKenna
It was a piece of information about Hayden Grant. Maybe, in time, Leah would trust him with the rest of the story, but he wouldn’t push her. As a sniper, he could look at a lawn and tell which blades of grass had been moved by an animal or a human. In the same way, Leah was giving him tiny signs and in his mind he was putting them together. Eventually, a pattern would emerge and he’d see the whole picture. He wanted to know because he had feelings for Leah. No one was more surprised than Kell. He wasn’t looking for a woman. Sex with the right woman? Yes. But as he pushed off his boots and got comfortable, he wouldn’t lie to himself. His heart was involved in this equation. What was he going to do?
As he made sure Leah was settled in for the night before turning off the light, Ballard sensed, or maybe intuited, she liked him just as much. They were two planets on a collision course with one another that could never have a happy ending.
* * *
THE NIGHTMARE STARTED insidiously for Leah. She and Hayden were camping out in the hills of Georgia; something he liked to do. It was August, the humidity high, the mosquitoes pestering her nonstop. Hayden was in a bad mood. Her father had been busy reviewing the fitness reports for every officer. Hayden was a captain and he wanted early major in rank. He was worried her father wouldn’t give him the marks he needed to make that early rank. He was busy building a fire, throwing heavier limbs on it, the smoke billowing up through the dense pine forest surrounding them.
“You need to talk to your father,” he growled. “I need a perfect score on this next fitness report.”
Leah’s hands shook as she began unpacking the food from the cardboard box sitting in the rear of their SUV. “If I say anything, Hayden, he’ll suspect you put me up to it. You know that.”
She hated these conversations. Assessments came every six months, and officers and enlisted persons alike were given a score. Those that had the highest grades would automatically be put up for early-promotion consideration. This was the first time Hayden could be put up for it by her father, the squadron commander.
“You have to say something,” he ground out, standing, wiping his hands off on his jeans. He glared at her. “Figure out a diplomatic way, Leah, but get it done, dammit!”
She winced as he cursed. Hayden was building into one of his rages and it scared her to death. She dropped the bread on the ground, then quickly picked it up. Breathing unevenly, her mind awash with fear of what he might do, she said, “I’ll talk to him.”
He walked over and stood beside her. He was six feet tall. She was five feet seven inches tall. Staring down at her, he jerked her hair back, hard. “Monday. When we get back. Take him to lunch.”
“Ow!” Leah cried, her scalp radiating pain. Her hand had gone up to the side of her head. “Stop hurting me, Hayden! You don’t have to worry, I’ll talk to my father.”
* * *
“LEAH! WAKE UP!” Kell dodged her fist and it landed hard against his chest, a lot of power behind her swing. She’d screamed and scared the hell out of him, jerking him out of his sleep. Worse, if there were Taliban nearby, they’d have heard it.
Gripping her arm, Ballard gave her a small shake. “Leah! Wake up. It’s just a dream!” He saw her face twisted and contorted, her mouth opened to scream again. What the hell kind of nightmares was she having to make her twist and buck against him? He had knelt down, dodging her flailing fist. It was lucky for him her other arm was in a sling or he’d have been in trouble.
“Sugar. Come on. It’s Kell. You’re safe. No one is attacking you...”
Kell’s voice broke through her nightmare and Leah snapped awake. Her eyes widened enormously as she sucked in ragged gasps of air. Kell’s darkly shadowed face was so close. His eyes narrowed, filled with urgent concern. She felt his one hand on her shoulders, the other carefully holding her right wrist. With a groan, she pushed him away. He instantly released her.
Sweaty, shaking, Leah pushed herself up into a sitting position. Kell sat back on his heels, guardedly watching her.
Rubbing her face, her hands trembling, Leah muttered, “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to hit you...” She couldn’t tear Hayden’s glare out of her mind, the one from after she’d struck him in the face. That time, she wasn’t raped. How many times had he done it to her over the years? She’d lost count.
“Do you want some water?” Kell asked her quietly, watching her hide her face behind her trembling hand. He could feel she was embarrassed and he wanted to give her some room.
“P-please.”
“Be right back.” He got up and walked over to his ruck near his sleeping bag.
She couldn’t cry! She had stopped crying years ago. No help had ever come. Leah had felt something precious break inside her soul once she realized there was no way out of that nightmare marriage to Hayden. Scrubbing her face, Leah forced all the tears deep down inside herself.
Kell knelt at her side, opening the bottle. “Here,” he offered her quietly, holding it out toward her.
Leah slid her shaking hand around it and drank deeply. Her throat hurt. She couldn’t look at Kell. She was too ashamed. Finally, she stopped drinking and gripped the bottle in her lap, hands white-knuckled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Kell moved his hand lightly across her hair. “Do you have these nightmares often?” He was thinking maybe the crash was resurrecting a lot of ugly events in her life, replaying them now, one after another. He saw the agony in her eyes as she looked over at him.
“Not like this,” Leah quavered. “Maybe once a month.” Rubbing her aching brow, she tried to draw in a deep breath. Her heart was skipping so hard, she felt like she might have a heart attack.
Resting his hand on her right shoulder, Kell said, “It’s probably because of the crash. You could have died in it. That sort of thing can raise all kinds of monsters we hide from ourselves.”
“Monster is the right word,” Leah rasped unsteadily. She gave him an apologetic look. “You need your sleep, Kell. You’re working twelve hours or more as a sniper every day.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe I should move my bed into the other cave. At least you’ll get some undisturbed sleep that way.”
“That’s not happening.” He saw her eyes turn sad. Kell sensed such deep grief within her, but he couldn’t plumb it with just his senses. Whatever it was, it was tragic. He wanted to hold Leah but he could tell she was tense, as if struggling to contain all those runaway terrors. She was trying to stuff them way back down into herself once again. Kell wasn’t going to force her into his arms. If she didn’t come of her own volition, he couldn’t help. Leah didn’t know that, though. “I wake up so many times a night,” he told her sincerely, catching her downcast eyes. “SEALs don’t sleep like regular folks. We catnap for five, maybe ten minutes, and then we snap fully awake. And then, we go back into a catnapping cycle again.” He gave her a small smile meant to make her feel better. “No harm, no foul. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered brokenly, feeling as if she were falling apart.
“Why don’t you lie down? I’ll get the blanket and cover you up with it.”
Leah nodded and whispered her thanks, lying on her right side. She felt him cover her with it, gently tucking it in around her hunched shoulders like a mother might for a child. Shutting her eyes tightly, biting back a sob, she realized Kell’s touch was stunningly different from Hayden’s. She’d been such a coward. Looking back on that three-year marriage, Leah knew she should have gone to her father. But even now, she wasn’t sure he’d believe her. He still thought of Hayden as the son he’d lost, Leah thought bitterly. Hayden replaced Evan in her father’s world. And Hayden wanted to show him he could one day replace him as commander when he retired.
She heard Kell lie down, the cave going to blackness once