Chapter 7

7

brYAN

B ryan zipped up his bag, glancing toward Sara as she worked, her movements precise and deliberate. The tension rolling off her was tangible, a maelstrom brewing beneath her calm exterior. She double-checked her laptop and satellite phone, securing them in her tactical bag.

“Ready?” he asked, keeping his tone steady.

She nodded, her jaw tight. “You’re sure the boats are compromised?”

“I saw them moving down the beach and another unit was moving toward the tunnels so if we don’t move, they’ll come up through the pantry.”

Sara shook her head. “Fitzwallace needs to invest in some new safe houses. Lately, it seems the bad guys know them better than we do. I swear he’s more interested in the latest spanking horse, than in our fucking safe houses.”

“You know that isn’t true,” said Bryan calmly. “And given what I know about the female operatives of Cerberus, those horses probably get worn out pretty fast.”

Sara whirled around to face him and laughed when he waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Maybe, but I prefer over-the-knee to a piece of equipment. It’s more intimate.”

“Good to know,” he laughed.

“We need to move fast, if the boats are compromised. We’ll take the headland and stay low in the grass. It’s harder to track us that way.”

Bryan slung his bag over his shoulder, falling in step behind her. She moved like a shadow, her every step purposeful, her focus razor-sharp. It was impressive, watching her work, but he couldn’t ignore the strain etched in her features.

The tall grass swayed in the evening breeze, the sound of the waves crashing below masking their footsteps. The air smelled of salt and damp earth, but Bryan could sense something else—a kind of disturbance that had nothing to do with the natural world.

“Stick close to the edge,” Sara murmured, her voice barely audible over the wind. “The cliffs give us cover.”

Bryan nodded silently, scanning their surroundings. The golden light of the setting sun painted the headland in warm hues, but his instincts were on high alert. Something about the stillness felt wrong.

Then it came—a sharp crack that split the air, followed by the faint hum of a bullet slicing through the grass.

Bryan dropped instinctively, yanking Sara down with him as another shot rang out. The bullet hit the ground just inches from where they’d been standing.

“Sniper,” Sara hissed. “Move!”

They scrambled forward, keeping low as they crawled toward a cluster of rocks near the cliff’s edge. Another shot struck one of the rocks, sending shards of stone flying.

Bryan’s mind shifted into the calm focus he knew well from his time in the military. The adrenaline coursing through his veins sharpened his senses, clearing away the fear and leaving only clarity.

“They’re not shooting to kill,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. “They’re herding us.”

Sara glanced at him, her jaw clenched. “They want to capture us.”

He nodded. “Which means they’ll move in close soon. We can use that.”

She hesitated, her eyes searching his face. “You have a plan?”

“I draw their fire,” he said simply. “You flank them.”

“Like hell you will,” she snapped, her voice low but fierce.

Bryan met her gaze, his tone firm. “Sara, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

For a moment, she seemed ready to argue, but then she gave a sharp nod. “Fine. But if you get yourself killed, I’m not dragging your body back. I’ll feed it to the lions.”

Bryan allowed himself a faint smile. “Noted.”

He shifted his position, exposing himself just enough to draw the sniper’s attention. A shot struck the rock near his shoulder as the crack rang out. The impact sent debris scattering, but he held his ground, watching as Sara slipped into the grass and disappeared from sight.

Another shot hit closer, and Bryan shifted slightly, making himself a harder target while still keeping the sniper’s focus on him.

He spotted the sniper just as a sharp crack of a pistol cut through the air, and the sniper’s body slumped forward, his weapon clattering to the ground.

Bryan exhaled, relief washing over him briefly before the rustle of movement in the grass snapped him back into focus. Two more figures emerged, their weapons raised.

“Sara!” he shouted, warning her as one of the attackers fired.

The bullet grazed her thigh, but she didn’t slow down. Her return fire dropped the man with a single shot. Bryan didn’t have time to marvel at her precision—another attacker was closing in on her, a knife glinting in his hand.

Bryan’s body moved before his mind caught up. He raised his gun and fired, the shot echoing across the headland. The man dropped, the knife slipping from his grasp as he hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” Bryan asked as he reached Sara’s side, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice was tight with pain.

He didn’t believe her but didn’t press. There wasn’t time.

More movement in the grass caught his attention. Without hesitation, Bryan raised his weapon and fired, taking down the final attacker before he could get close.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the crash of the waves below.

Bryan knelt beside Sara, his hands gentle as he inspected the wound on her thigh. Blood trickled from the graze, but it didn’t seem deep. “You’re hit,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, brushing him off.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he pulled a bandage from his bag, wrapping it securely around her thigh.

As he worked, he spoke, his voice low but steady. “They know we’re here. We can’t stay.”

Sara nodded, her expression grim. “We’ll keep moving. Head for the cliffs. If we’re lucky, we can lose them in the terrain.”

Bryan stood, pulling her to her feet. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go.”

Her eyes met his, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between them—a connection forged in the fire of survival.

But the danger wasn’t over. As they disappeared into the shadows of the tall grass, Bryan’s mind was already calculating their next move.

One thing was certain: the cartel wasn’t done with them. And he wasn’t about to let them win.

Bryan’s pulse thundered as he adjusted Sara’s arm around his shoulders, the weight of her body leaning heavily against him. The attack had rattled them both, but it was her injury that set his teeth on edge. Blood soaked the makeshift bandage he’d wrapped hastily around her thigh, the crimson stain growing with each step they took deeper into the rocky cliffs.

“I’m fine,” Sara muttered, her voice strained but defiant.

“You’re bleeding all over the place, Sara,” Bryan snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. “That’s not fine.”

She winced as he shifted her weight to get a better grip, her stubbornness faltering under the pain. “We need to keep moving. If they track us?—”

“I’ll deal with it,” he cut her off, his voice low but firm. “Right now, you focus on staying upright.”

The terrain was unforgiving, the uneven rocks and dense brush making every step a challenge. Bryan’s mind raced as he scanned their surroundings, calculating their next move. The cliffside ahead offered a narrow ledge that dipped into a small cove. It wasn’t ideal, but it was defensible.

“There,” he said, nodding toward the ledge. “We’ll stop there.”

Sara tensed against him. “We can’t stop. They’ll catch up.”

Bryan ignored her protest, guiding her toward the ledge. “You won’t be any good to either of us if you bleed out.”

She didn’t respond, but the way her head dipped slightly against his shoulder told him she knew he was right.

By the time they reached the cove, Bryan was sweating, his muscles burning from the effort of supporting her. He eased her down onto a flat patch of rock, his hands moving quickly to check her wound.

“You didn’t tell me it was this deep,” he said, his voice tight as he peeled back the blood-soaked fabric. The gash along her thigh was jagged, the result of a near-miss from a bullet.

“It’s not that bad,” Sara replied weakly, though her pale complexion betrayed her.

Bryan shot her a look, his frustration barely contained. “Stop downplaying it. Let me work.”

She fell silent, her eyes closing as he cleaned the wound with water from his canteen. Bryan’s hands were steady, his focus absolute as he worked. He wasn’t just treating her injury—he was anchoring himself, channeling the chaos of the day into a singular purpose.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned, pressing a piece of gauze against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

Sara hissed, her fingers curling into fists, but she didn’t complain.

Bryan’s jaw tightened as he secured the bandage with strips of medical tape. “You’re lucky. Another inch, and that bullet would’ve torn through an artery.”

She cracked one eye open, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “Lucky’s not the word I’d use.”

“Stubborn, then,” he muttered, sitting back on his heels.

She tried to push herself up, but Bryan placed a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her down. “Rest,” he commanded.

“I’m not some helpless female the big strong man needs to take care of, Bryan,” Sara snapped, her voice sharper than her strength allowed.

“And I’m not treating you like one,” he countered, his tone steady. “But right now, you’re injured, and I’m not letting you push yourself to the point where I have to carry you out of here. So you’re going to sit there, let me handle things, and rest. Understood?”

Sara’s lips parted, likely to argue, but something in his tone stopped her. Instead, she leaned back against the rock, exhaling sharply. “Fine.”

The silence that followed was intense, the feeling between them simmering just below the surface. Bryan worked efficiently, checking their supplies and scanning the horizon for any signs of pursuit. Finding none, they pushed on, as Bryan’s map had shown a small army outpost attached to a fishing village. It wasn’t ideal, but it would give them shelter, and perhaps he could trade his service for sanctuary.

They moved slowly along the coast, finally locating the army outpost from the map. The village elders greeted them with news that the army had left earlier in the day for patrol but would return tomorrow afternoon.

“We know their commander would offer you shelter, as will our village,” said the elder.

“We’re on the run from the cartel,” said Bryan. Sara punched him in the arm—apparently telling the elder they could be taking on a lot of trouble was not something Sara approved of. He slanted her a look. “That’s five you owe me.”

The myriad of emotions that passed over Sara’s face was almost comical: shock, lust, outrage and curiously, acceptance as she nodded her head.

“We are no friends of the cartel. What is the saying—the enemy of my enemy is my friend? Come, eat with us. Tend to your woman.”

The elder turned away, and Bryan wasn’t sure if tending to Sara meant just her wound or the discipline she was due. They were shown into a hut, and Bryan was able to get Sara to sit still long enough for him to tend to her wound. As soon as he helped her to the sleeping pallet they would share, she used her satellite phone.

“Sara? It’s Seth. Are you both all right? Are you at the safe house?”

“No, the cartel found us,” she said. “We’re in a fishing village. Can we get an extraction?”

“Absolutely. I’m scrambling a team now. There’s a really good landing pad just outside the village.”

“The local militia,” said Sara. “And according to the village elder, they’re out on patrol until tomorrow.”

“You’ll be long gone by then. Anything you need us to bring?”

“Any fishing supplies you can find. And Bryan is indicating simple medical supplies—bandages, disinfectants, et cetera. These people have been kind to us. They didn’t have to take us in.”

“Understood. Hang tight. We should be there in a couple of hours.”

Bryan returned with two steaming plates of some kind of delicious-smelling fish stew. When he finally sat beside her, the intensity of what they’d been through during the day crashed over him like a wave. His body was tired, but his mind was sharper than ever.

“That smells great. Cerberus has a chopper with an extraction team headed our way.”

“Good.”

Sara frowned. “What’s up?”

“You don’t trust me, do you?” Bryan said sadly.

“I do.”

“No, you don’t and I’m trying to understand why.”

“You’re a doctor Bryan, not an operative.”

“I don’t deny that. But you think I’m just a civilian—a liability you have to protect. But I’m more than that, Sara, and I think I’ve proven it.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished. “I’ve been in combat zones, I’ve made life-and-death decisions under fire, and I’ve saved more lives than I can count. I’ve been with you every step of the way since we bugged out. You’re so caught up in your own need to control everything that you can’t let anyone else share the load.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Bryan challenged, leaning closer. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Sara’s gaze darted away, her composure slipping. “I… I can’t,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bryan softened, his frustration giving way to something deeper. “You don’t have to do this alone, Sara,” he said, his tone gentler now. “But you have to let me in.”

Her eyes glistened, the vulnerability in them catching him off guard. “I don’t know how,” she confessed.

“Then let me help,” he said, reaching for her hand. His grip was firm, grounding, as if he could anchor her with touch alone.

Sara hesitated, the tension in her body palpable. But slowly, she exhaled, her fingers curling around his. “I’m scared,” she admitted quietly.

Bryan nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. “So am I. But if we lean on and trust each other, we can get through this. Together.”

The words hung between them, a promise neither had spoken aloud before. For the first time, this thing between them felt less like a battle and more like a bond.

When she’d finished her meal, Bryan looked at her and watched a shiver run down her spine. He made himself comfortable on the pallet and extended his hand to her. “I believe you owe me five. I think we should start the same way we mean to go on, don’t you?”

Sara nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to strip her jeans and panties down to her knees. He guided her across his lap, allowing her to find a balanced spot. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this. He’d gone through the training but had then taken a step back, worried that being a member of Club Southside might cost him professionally, but now he didn’t care.

In a matter of days, he’d begun to need Sara Gray more than he needed the air that he breathed. He lifted his hand and then brought it down in the center of her ass. There was a satisfyingly loud smack and gasp from Sara as she reached for his ankle, holding on. He smacked her ass a second time, watching the pink color begin to rise.

Although he wanted her to know this was discipline, he couldn’t help his own physical reaction—his cock was hardening, and arousal was rushing through his veins. He smacked her twice more and was fairly sure that the sting was sparking along her backside. At first her body was tense, but as he landed the last smack, Sara sighed, and her body went limp.

“That’s five. You did well,” he said as he helped her up and pulled her onto his lap, her jeans and panties still down around her ankles. He suppressed a grin—his sub, his woman had enjoyed her discipline. She was wet. “If I had the time, we’d do more proper aftercare.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered as she leaned against him, nuzzling his neck. “The chopper…”

“Not to worry. They’ll never know. I’ll make sure we’re ready to go when they get here.”

“Thank you, Sir. I think I needed that more than you know.”

Bryan chuckled. “Don’t know about that. You may be leaving a spot on my jeans, but trust me when I tell you, my cock is going to hurt until it gets back inside you.”

“Then we’ll have to make sure it gets what it needs”

As the distant sound of the chopper reached their ears, both knew the fight was far from over.

Bryan’s hand tightened around hers as he helped her to stand and gather their things. “I want you to get on the chopper and stay put. I’ll make sure the chief gets our gifts and then we can get out of here,” he said, his voice steady. “It’s not over yet.”

Sara nodded, her jaw set with determination. “Let’s finish this.”