Chapter 4

Four

Eeli

" D yson, this could take a while. And I haven't had a chance to eat today. Would you mind running down the hill and grabbing some lunch for us?"

I came up so fast at Clara's question, I almost slammed my head into the hood of the truck. I turned to look at Dyson who stood up from his spot examining the engine more slowly than I did. I didn't miss the way his eyes darted to mine before he looked over to where Clara sat in the grass by the side of the road looking pretty as a wildflower.

She had her long, tan legs bent, an arm wrapped around them. Her other hand sifted through the grass beside her. Her head tilted to the side and she stared up at Dyson from underneath her lashes, a slow smile turning up the corners of her pink lips.

Shit. There was no chance that girl wasn't going to get her way. She had us all wrapped around her tiny, little finger since she was a kid.

These days, the dark, wild hair and her almost golden eyes were the only things left that resembled that kid. She'd grown up, and her coltish limbs and chubby cheeks firmed and rounded in all the right places. Now she had soft curves and legs that went on for days.

If she were hard to say no to when she was a pesky eleven-year-old, the woman she'd become would be impossible to turn down.

Fuck. What kind of man had I become that I almost resented that fact? That I didn't want to be left alone with a beautiful woman if it meant my closest friend had to leave my side?

I narrowed my eyes and shifted my gaze to Dyson. The grim set of his mouth told me all I needed to know. He was as eager to do her bidding as I was to have him do it. As in, not at fucking all.

He and I knew what was going on between us wasn't normal. Not like we talked it out. But hell, it was hard to miss the fact that we both went a little crazy when we were out of each other's sight.

And we both knew why. The FUBARed mission that left all the men we'd been sent out with coming home in closed caskets.

Except the two of us.

We'd been sent ahead of our unit to scout things out. We'd returned to find the remnants of our buddies. Nothing I'd experienced before in all my years in the military prepared me for what had been done to those men.

The only break I got from the walking nightmare was the relief that came knowing Dyson had been with me, watching my back. I hadn't left him behind to suffer the fate the rest of our unit endured.

The sense of relief did nothing to help the feelings of guilt that plagued us. We had to live with the knowledge that we came home and the rest of our unit did not.

The guilt, the horror, and the relief formed a greasy ball of anxiety that lived inside me. The only time I felt halfway normal was when I had Dyson by my side, a constant reminder that he'd made it out alive.

But I'd come to rely on him to an unhealthy degree. The same way he'd come to rely on me.

Which brought us to here and now, and me with my blood frozen in my veins at the thought of Dyson fulfilling a pretty woman's simple request. I fought for breath as I waited for Dyson's response.

"Why don't we see if Eeli gets your truck going? Then we'll follow you down the mountain and take you to lunch, sweetheart."

Thank God. Dyson made it all sound so reasonable. We both knew it was far from that, but for some reason we both seemed dedicated to maintaining at least the illusion of normalcy.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and turned to look back at Clara. She stood slowly and brushed a hand over her delicious, curvy ass, cleaning grass from the back of her tiny denim shorts, before moving closer to us. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from offering to do that job for her.

Fuck me. I needed to get a grip. Wouldn't matter if I couldn't get my head on straight if Sawyer ever found out the thoughts I'd had about his baby sister. He'd solve my problem by knocking it clean off my shoulders.

"I still have to get up to the lodge and look for that dog. I'm not sure I can wait too much longer." She looked up at Dyson and, I swear, the mischievous minx batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm starving, Dyson and I know you guys love a good burger."

I waited for Dyson to throw another roadblock in her way. Instead, a low growl came from deep in his chest. Startled, I swung my head around.

Dyson stared down at Clara with an intensity I didn't understand. His jaw locked and his posture went rigid.

"Please, Dyson," she asked softly, giving him her flirty head tilt again.

My heart started beating erratically in my chest. I held my breath as I waited to hear Dyson's response.

"Fine," he finally bit out.

"Thank you!" Clara jumped in her spot, bringing my gaze to her full breasts as they bounced beneath her black V-neck shirt. The sight was almost enough to forget my desire to keep Dyson by my side at all times. Almost.

I shot a look at Dyson and he looked back at me, his face grim as Clara rattled off an order.

"I won't be long." Dyson squeezed my shoulder as he walked past me on the way to his truck. It was all I could do not to throw myself at his feet and beg him to take me along.

Clara and I stood side-by-side in the middle of the road, watching as Dyson executed a three-point turn. He hit the gas so hard as he pulled away, gravel spit up from underneath his tires. All I could do was stare after him as dread filled my chest.

I turned and made my way back to the truck, my movements choppy and disjointed, like I was walking through a pool of water. I picked up a wrench and stared down into the engine. A wave of hot nausea churned in my stomach, and suddenly my vision was filled with images of that day—blood and flesh and bits of gore, bodies torn to shreds, faces almost unrecognizable.

Except now, with Dyson not within my line of sight as proof he'd made it out with me, the faces became easy to identify. All of them were Dyson. I could see him in the face of the soldier with half his head gone. It was Dyson's vacant eyes that stared back at me from the lump of flesh that was once a soldier. I gripped the edge of the truck and I could feel the trembling start to move through me.

That wasn't the only thing moving through me. Adrenaline-fueled rage spiked through me. Fear and anger and helplessness, mixed into a gurgling cocktail leaving me thirsty for the blood of an enemy thousands of miles away from here.

"Eeli." A soft, sweet voice reached for me through the nightmare of my flashback. "Come back to me, Eeli."

I jumped, fighting to focus on reality, the rational side of my brain having just enough of a hold to lure me back.

"Eeli, baby, I promise you're fine with me."

That innocent, angelic voice drifting through my nightmare introduced just enough incongruence to my mind that I snapped out of it long enough to register Clara, and not some conjured enemy, standing by my side.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, making me focus on its plump fullness. Her gentle smile made my heart ache.

"You're okay." She reached for me.

I tracked her movement with my eyes, but even seeing what she was about to do didn't prepare me for the jolt of awareness that shot through me when her soft hand landed on my arm. My gaze shot back to hers as electricity and heat zinged through me, starting from the spot where her hand rested and spreading into every part of me. Especially my dick. It grew hard behind the metal zipper of my jeans and I growled lowly as much from the surprise as from the urge to see her body take all of me.

Her expression told me she'd been caught off guard by the contact, too. Her amber eyes were wide, her lips parting.

The look on her face, the heat of her touch, the way that tight T-shirt and short shorts, all of it made her unrelentingly tempting. And suddenly, for the first time since we walked into that horrific scene months ago, my fear, rage, and confusion subsided.

But I still couldn't breathe. But for a whole other reason entirely.

Clara's hand stroked soothingly up and down my arm, even as she stared up at me in unblinking surprise. I leaned more firmly into her touch. She obliged, continuing to slide her warm hand over my skin.

My eyes drifted closed, but they bolted open again when a realization hit me.

Everything inside me had grown quiet. Visions of death evaporated like smoke floating off into the atmosphere. For the first time in I don't know how long, I stood firmly rooted in the present moment.

I eased closer to Clara, my body instinctively seeking her warmth, more of her touch. She blinked up at me and shifted closer. We moved as though two strings pulled us together, and before I made the decision to do it, I pulled her to me, holding her close in the circle of my arms.

Her small hands slid up to rest on my chest. "You stopped shaking."

I drew my eyebrows together, uncertain of what she meant.

She must have sensed my confusion because she explained, "Usually when Dyson gets too far away, you get agitated, start shaking. You did it this time, but now…" her hands slid up to my shoulders, over my biceps, and back to my chest again, "no trembling."

No trembling. Her words played over and over again in my mind. I should have been embarrassed at being caught in my worst moments of weakness.

But there was no judgment in Clara's tone or the eyes she turned up to me. If anything, her expression was one of confusion and wonder and…something else.

No trembling. As I kept my gaze trained on her gorgeous upturned face, the truth of her words hit me. I wasn't shaking. That greasy, wretched ball of fear and anxiety that had been living inside me for months was nowhere to be found. My constant reactions of dread and rage were gone, leaving only contentment and desire and…

Holy shit. Possessiveness.

Without thought, I clutched Clara closer. She obliged, moving her arms up and over my shoulders. I stared down into her eyes. Did she see the same wonder reflected in mine?

Primitive, primal instincts took over. They weren't products of fear or fury this time, but something deeper, though equally earth-shattering. Only one simple thought formed in my primordial brain— mine.

Holy. Fuck. Clara Becker. My best friend's baby sister.

Mine.

Before I could deny any of the possessive feelings running through me, the sounds of tires crunching over gravel hit my ears.

"Dyson is coming," Clara whispered, her eyebrows snapping together and a tumble of confusion flashing on her face.

Dyson. He hadn't been gone long, but for the first time in months I'd been able to part from him without having a complete mental breakdown. Elation pumped through me and I grinned down at her.

Apparently Clara wasn't just someone who I lusted for, she was a miracle worker. A living, breathing angel. My angel.

"He's going to need you, Eeli."

I shook my head, her meaning not penetrating for long seconds. Then it seeped in and my grin faded. I turned my head to watch Dyson speed over the hill, coming to a lurching stop just behind the truck.

I dropped my arms from around Clara and she took a giant step backward. Inside I roared with a new kind of rage as her warmth and contentment washed away.

Anxiety moved into my gut as the reality of the situation hit me square between the eyes.

Clara might be the one person with the ability to soothe the scars left on my mind and my soul.

But where did that leave Dyson?