Eight

Eight

Randy had been in some horrible situations before this. There was the time he'd been pinned down outside of Kandahar, and they had lost three of the team members. He'd lost another one of his former SEAL team members to suicide when he couldn't cope with the memories. None of that could compare to the clusterfuck this assignment had brought about.

"Up here," Kaheaku said. He glanced at his partner and nodded. Randy's pain was escalating with each step he took. Worse, he kept thinking about infection. He just wanted to get it cleaned out and dressed. Running around the jungle was probably not a good idea with an open wound.

They stepped into a clearing. There was a building there, which apparently operated as some sort of hotel. He glanced at Kaheaku, who shrugged.

"Not the greatest accommodations, but I figured a former SEAL could handle it."

Randy nodded and followed him up. There was very little activity around it, but it was pretty evident he was one of the very few Caucasians in the area. Add in that most of the men refused to make eye contact. Uneasiness slipped down his spine.

"Aren't you worried we'll get noticed?"

Sean shook his head. "No. Most of these people don't want anyone to know what they're doing. Not here anyway."

Randy studied the group again. Some were dressed in clothes similar to what he and Kaheaku wore. Cargo pants, t-shirts, boots. But, there were men in business suits, and almost everyone there was male. And the men were the only ones in couples. It hit him that this was probably secluded for a reason.

He glanced at his companion again. "Is there a reason you know about this place?"

His lips twitched before they curved into a cocky smile. "Other than the fact that I needed a place to stay after my car went out on me last year, no. I don't hide my sexual preferences."

Fuck, the man was sexy. Randy had noticed him from the first moment he'd started working for Lassiter. It was hard not to. Tall, muscled, green eyes—right up Randy's alley. Knowing Kaheaku was bisexual added to the attraction, but worse, he was fucking sarcastic. It made him almost impossible not to fantasize about.

He'd taken time to fashion a bandage out of a bandana, but the blood was starting to seep through. And he needed to give the wound a good cleaning.

Sean apparently read his mind.

"Let's get a room and get you set. Then we can figure out what to do."

He nodded and followed Sean up the front steps. A small Filipino man stood behind a stained desk.

"Need a room," Sean said.

Randy noticed he did not ask, just ordered. He liked that in a man…to a point. And in the situation, it was definitely nice. Randy was accustomed to taking charge, and he was good at it. But, his arm ached and he was starting to feel a little lightheaded. Having someone take over the little things at the moment made life a little easier.

The man behind the counter said nothing back to Sean. Apparently they knew each other well enough. He grabbed a key and flung it on the desk. Sean tossed out a few bills, grabbed the key.

"Let's go," he said, without turning around.

Randy wasn't that great at taking orders. It was one of the reasons he had left the Navy. He'd loved his job, but he did better working with a two-person team. Share the work. He definitely didn't like working for jackasses like his last commanding officer. But, right now, it was just best to go along.

He followed Kaheaku up two sets of stairs. Sweat trickled down his back and his arm throbbed. The thing hurt like a motherfucker. If Kaheaku hadn't shot the bastard, Randy would have been tempted to hunt the bastard down and beat the shit out of him.

By the time they reached the room, Randy could barely catch his breath. It was embarrassing to admit, even to himself.

Kaheaku unlocked the door and stepped inside. They both surveyed the room. It wasn't big. Hell, there wasn't a lot of space in the room.

"We need to get that cut cleaned and dressed."

Randy looked around the room again, then walked to the bathroom. "I might catch something else in here."

Kaheaku shook his head as he took off his pack. "I got supplies, as I am sure you do as well."

He did. "I can take care of it."

Kaheaku let one brow rise but said nothing. Of course he didn't. He wasn't truly the leader of the partnership, but in a way he was. He'd known Lassiter longer than Randy had and he was uninjured.

"Okay."

He stripped off his shirt and winced as a fission of pain shot down his arm.

"Fuck," he said from behind gritted teeth. Shit, he didn't want to look weak now. It was stupid, but it was like he was trying to impress Kaheaku. They both crowded into the bathroom.

"Ah, really just a flesh wound."

He nodded. Kaheaku opened a bottle of antiseptic and poured it on Randy's wound.

"Mother fuck."

Kaheaku chuckled. "Yeah, I bet that hurts. I think I'm gonna have to sew it up. Butterfly sutures are not going to work."

"And the day just keeps getting better," Randy said as he watched Kaheaku pull out a needle and thread. "Listen, I know you're former Special Forces, but do you know what you're doing with that thing?"

A small smile curved his lips. "Yeah. I grew up on a ranch on the Big Island, so I know all about taking care of injuries."

"Hawaii?"

He nodded. Randy should have known it from the cadence in Kaheaku's voice, not to mention the last name.

"And, up in cattle country, it could be a long drive to the hospital. You learn how to fix things like this."

He threaded the needle as if trained and Randy swallowed. He had hunted the Taliban, faced down more than one insurgent in Iraq, but fucking needles freaked him the fuck out.

"Don't worry. I'll be gentle."

The double entendre surprised a laugh out of him.

"I just have this thing with needles."

"Yeah. My mom did too. She would freak out if there was even mention of a needle."

"Was?"

"She died a few years ago."

And it was a soft spot for the big Hawaiian. He heard it in Kaheaku's voice that he still missed his mother. Dammit, it only made him even more attractive.

Over the next few minutes, they didn't speak. Kaheaku worked the needle in and out of his skin as Randy did his best not to vomit or, worse, pass out. When Kaheaku finally finished, Randy released a breath he did not know he had been holding.

"Take the bed and catch a few minutes. I'll survey the perimeter."

He opened his mouth, but Sean shook his head. "You need to rest up and then you can take over. I want to make sure you don't get an infection. I am not about to carry your ass out of here."

He smiled and watched as Kaheaku packed away the medical supplies.

"I'll hunt up some drinking water so you can take a couple of ibuprofen."

He nodded and didn't argue. Kaheaku left him alone. He sat down on the bed and looked around. Damn, he was getting old if one little flesh wound had him down for the count.

There was one thing that was for sure, once he got a hold of Royce Lassiter, he was going to beat the shit out of the man.

Three hours later, Sean kept watch by the window. Night had fallen quickly and though it seemed their tail had disappeared, something was wrong. There was something really off about this assignment from the start, and it was going downhill fast.

Young shifted on the mattress, drawing Sean's attention. He walked over and looked down at his partner. He had checked under the bandage in the last hour, and there was no redness around the wound yet. That had eased some of his worries. Now, though, Young didn't look so hot. Sweat beaded his brow and his skin was flush. Fever had set in, but Sean didn't think it had to do with the wound. Dammit. Could anything else go wrong?

This assignment was definitely fucked.