Chapter Twelve

John

John was warm and felt more comfortable than he'd been since the day he was shot. And as the fog of sleep lifted, he realized why. He wasn't alone. In fact, he was lying in the muscled arms of a man who was quickly becoming the most important person in his life.

"Morning," Stryker said, his voice rough from sleep. Nothing had ever sounded sexier.

"Good morning," John said while grudgingly pulling himself away from the hard body he'd been using as his pillow. "How'd you sleep?"

"Best sleep I've had in years. You?" Those dark eyes that held a secret pain now seemed to sparkle ever so slightly. John liked it.

"Peaceful, I think. I don't remember having a nightmare. Did I?"

"Nope, you slept straight through," Stryker said as he stretched out his arms and rolled his shoulders and neck to loosen them.

"Sorry, I slept on you all night you couldn't move. You must be stiff."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Stryker said without a trace of doubt. "You can use me as your pillow anytime."

"An open invitation. Better be careful, I might take you up on it," John teased as he shifted in be,d trying to adjust his morning hard-on.

Great, there was no way Stryker wouldn't see the tent in his shorts the moment John got up.

"I hope you do," Stryker said as he ran the palm of his hand over John's jaw.

Stryker's phone rang, and the big man slowly pulled away and confidently tossed the blankets aside and stood sporting a sizeable bulge in his boxer briefs.

"That'll be the boss wanting to check in. We need to head out soon as you're ready."

John took the opportunity to head for the bathroom while Stryker was on the phone. A cold shower would have to do. John couldn't help but wonder if that would be the first and last time he woke up in Stryker's arms. He hoped not.

They arrived at the lake house at the same time as a delivery driver pulled away. Brick was waiting with the team to review the information in the file they'd found. The sealed letter addressed to John was still unopened in his pocket. He wasn't sure he wanted to open it yet. His whole plan was to not dwell on the bomb Stryker had dropped and hope it went away. He couldn't deal with thinking about it right now.

Denial was a fire blanket covering his tormented psyche.

How could his father and mother not tell him his origins? Surely, he'd had a right to know… Perhaps they'd wanted to wait until he was older, and of course, by then, it was too late. Their secrets died with them.

He wanted to slow it all down, wind back the clock and return to being normal, where the only thing he had to worry about was opening the new store.

Sleeping with Stryker by his side last night had given John a peace he hadn't felt in a very long time. A peace he hadn't even realized he'd been missing but now craved. For growing reasons, he wasn't looking forward to the day Stryker returned to the lake house to live.

They walked into the lake house to find the others members of the team eating breakfast around the kitchen table. After a round of greetings, Stryker led John to their open seats, and the two sat down before Stryker handed the file over to Brick on his left. The leader didn't open it immediately, for which John was grateful. Brick slid it onto his lap and continued eating.

"You hungry?" Stryker asked John.

"I could eat."

John was surprised he had an appetite considering all the bullshit going on around him.

Stryker smiled and began loading up their plates. John noticed a medium-size cardboard box on the kitchen counter and guessed that was what the delivery driver had dropped off. Something about it felt off.

While the conversation continued around him, John zeroed in on the box. Nothing about it suggested giving it a second glance, but John began to notice things inside as he concentrated. He saw a digital clock, two thick pieces of what looked like Play-Doh or clay, wires, and a package of small round beads.

The digital clock was counting down—twenty-one, twenty, then nineteen. He had to warn the others, and damn keeping the secret of his "ability." People could be about to die, and he wasn't having that on his watch.

"Uh, guys, we have a problem." He stood up and gestured to the package. "I think that package is going to explode. It has a timer counting down, and it's at nineteen."

Everyone froze.

"What the fuck?" Brick stood up so fast his stool fell to the floor. Gator and Stryker dove toward the box.

"If that's the time left, there's no time to disarm it," Gator said urgently. "Everyone leave, right now."

Fear rushed through John as he froze to the spot. As everyone headed toward the door, Stryker grabbed the box off the kitchen counter and ran out the back door. John and the team followed him and watched as Stryker scanned the area, then ran directly at what had to be a storm cellar. He lifted the thick metal door, threw the box inside, and shut the door before yelling, "Get down."

Everyone ran for cover. When Stryker was only a few feet from the house, an explosion shook the ground, sending John falling off the deck and into a nearby bush. When he looked up, smoke billowed through what was left of the storm cellar door. He turned toward the house to find everyone staring at him.

The cat was well and truly out of the bag now.

"Are you okay?" Stryker asked as he came over and gently helped John out of the bush. "Does it hurt anywhere?"

"No, I'm okay. What about you?" John asked as he quickly scanned the man for signs of injury.

"I'm good," Stryker said before pulling John into his arms.

"It seems everyone is safe because of you, John," Brick said. It amazed John how calm the man was, even though he knew he'd likely seen more explosions than a normal person. He guessed that's what made him a good leader.

Brick cocked his head at Stryker. "I take it we've discovered what John's gift might be?" He leaned in and punched Styker on the arm— hard. "And next time, leave the superhero stuff to a minimum. You had no way of knowing if that bomb would have gone off when you picked it up."

"I did what I had to," Stryker muttered. "It worked, didn't it?"

John spoke up, not wanting Stryker to have to speak on his behalf or catch flack for not saying anything sooner.

"Yes. I don't know how to do or control it, but sometimes I can see through things if I concentrate hard enough. We planned on telling you after breakfast."

"Holy shit. You have X-ray vision." Shaw shook his head.

Despite all the stress over the last few days, John couldn't help himself and broke into laughter. "Stryker said the same. X-ray vision, hell, now I'm a damned comic book character."

And a fucking test tube baby. Talk about being one in a million.

"Let's get this fire put out and figure out who the fuck is trying to kill us," Brick ordered. "Someone call Elias to head off that delivery truck driver. We need to know who he is, where he came from, and where that package originated."

"Yes, sir."

The team got busy dousing the flames while Stryker took John inside to sit down. He hadn't noticed he was shaking until now. Julia brought him a glass of water. She was pale but still managed a faint smile.

"Thank you, John," she said. "At least the boys were already gone to school."

"You're welcome," John said because he had no idea what else to say. That bomb might have been meant for him, or the team, but the bottom line was he was ultimately responsible for putting everyone in danger.

Perhaps he could make up for it by using his gift. Maybe he could help the team bring whoever was hunting him, and them, to justice.

***

Stryker

Stryker could see John believed the explosion was his fault.

It took a while, but between them, they convinced John this wasn't so. Logically, he couldn't have been the target, considering he was staying at the apartment. If they wanted to hurt John, whoever sent the package would have sent it there. That left the rest of the team—any or all of them were targets.

Shaw returned to the ranch, taking Fletcher with him to watch over those living there. They'd set up sensors across the property to ensure no one got close enough to cause damage.

The delivery guy and his truck had been found and were now under lock and key at the station under Elias's watchful eye. The driver pleaded innocence, but his identification was as fake as his story. Until they uncovered who he truly was and who he was working for, he'd be sitting behind bars.

Whoever was responsible for this had counted on the team being eliminated in the explosion, but they hadn't expected John or his gift. Brick had cast a wide net, calling in favors far and wide. There'd be no place to hide; it was a matter of time before judgment day came. In the meantime, as a precaution, it was decided Stryker and John would stay in the lake house for the foreseeable future. They'd bunk in the bedroom Stryker had been staying in before going across to John's apartment.

"How are you really doing?" Stryker asked as he entered their bedroom. It was well past midnight, and he'd been conducting perimeter checks before handing it off to Gunner.

He wasn't surprised to find John still awake. It wasn't every day you had bombs going off yards away from you, at least not for civilians.

"Fine, I guess," John said unconvincingly.

"Getting used to being around explosions and hostile situations is difficult," Stryker said.

"I guess it's just old hat for you."

"I wish I could say it wasn't, but it is."

Stryker undressed to his boxer briefs and crawled into bed beside John, who immediately cuddled into his arms.I canget used to this.That was a dangerous thought.

After a few minutes, John said, "Tell me about your time in the military."

"What did you want to know?"How far down the rabbit hole do you wanna go?

"Where did you travel to? I imagine you covered the globe over all your time on the SEALs team."

"Yeah, you could say we've touched all four corners of the globe. We've been waist-deep in the snow in Eastern European towns and the swamps of the Florida Everglades and covered in sand across the Middle East. I've been to the Arctic Circle and Death Valley all in the same week. We've camped in Central America, Western Africa, and Asia jungles. We've dived in the Arctic, North Atlantic, South Atlantic, North and South Pacific, Indian and Southern oceans."

"Wow, seeing all those different places must have been amazing."

"It wasn't a pleasure cruise, but there were times I've seen the beauty of nature in the middle of nowhere, without any signs of man's destruction. I've also seen and done things you can never imagine or believe true and been taken prisoner for my troubles."

That got John's attention as he sat up in the bed, looking Stryker over, his hands running over Stryker's body in some mad search for evidence.

He was struggling to hold back his natural response by being touched by John. Any minute now and the evidence would be out there, ready for John to see. Stryker shifted, trying to hide his arousal. Luckily, John dropped his hands and stared at him in horror.

"You were taken prisoner? When? By who? Were you hurt?"

The questions were coming fast. Stryker hadn't meant to share that bit of information, but now that it was out there, he had no choice, as per their pact, to tell the truth, and not hold anything back.

"The team was on a mission in Iraq what feels like a lifetime ago. It all turned out okay."

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I get it."

"I'll make you a deal. When we're in bed together, we can tell each other anything. It's our safe place."

"I like the sound of that. I've never felt like I had a safe place to talk."

"You do now," Stryker said as he pulled John back into his arms. "I want to know everything about you."

"And I want to know everything about you. I care about you, Stryker, more and more every day. Is that wrong of me?"

"I hope not because I'm doing the same with you." Honesty was first and foremost between them.

"Good, I'm glad I'm not alone in this."

"If I have anything to say about it, you'll never be alone again."

John tightened his arms around Stryker, making the bigger man smile.

"It was 2016. We were sent in during the War in Iraq to free some high-ranking prisoners being held in Fallujah. The team was ambushed a couple of miles behind enemy lines but managed to fight their way out, except…"

"Except for you," John finished for him.

"Yes, except for me. I was covering our retreat when I got cut off from the rest of the team."

"How long were you held hostage?"

"Eight days. The team managed to get me out along with three other hostages."

"Were you hurt?"

"Nothing that didn't heal." Eventually.

"That had to be so scary. What did they want?"

"After the first couple days, they realized I wasn't going to give them any information, so I was of no use to them other than for propaganda and a bargaining chip."

"Propaganda?" John asked.

"Yeah, I don't know if you remember at the time, they used to videotape executions, tortures, and questionings and then feed it out to the media loops as some sick sign of their superiority."

A visible chill worked through John's body. "I remember hearing on the news about a service member's body being dragged around a town as people cheered. It's so sick. I can't imagine the horror for that person's family and anyone else."

"Terror. That's what they deal in. They terrorize people by doing things like that and bombing innocent people so they feel unsafe anywhere. Anything they can do to cause as much damage to not only physical structures but to the mental and emotional parts of the masses is fair game to them."

"It's sick to think that someone can do that to another human being. They used you for one of those videos?"

Stryker could hear the slight wobble in John's voice when he asked.

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Only if you're willing to tell me."

"Let's just say they tried to break me. They wanted to show how weak we were. It didn't happen. Broken bones heal, cuts and bruises heal, but if they can break your spirit, they've won, and they knew that. Once they poured this liquid on my skin, it felt like thousands of fire ants biting me over and over until I passed out. You may have noticed I don't have any chest hair. The hair grew back in patches afterward, so I shaved what little was left off."

John ran the palm of his hand over Stryker's chest and abdomen, leaving a different kind of fire in his wake, which was much more desirable.

"I'm sorry they did those things to you. It doesn't sound strong enough for how I feel." John"s voice was deep and troubled.

Stryker reached for John's hand and brought it up to his lips before kissing the palm. "You had nothing to do with it. I knew the consequences of my duty. That was a lifetime ago, and I'm at a place in my life where I can let it go and move on."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and I'd like to be doing that moving on with you by my side. If that sounds acceptable to you."

John's smile was instantaneous. "Highly acceptable, Lieutenant."

Things were looking up.