Mustang by Piper Stone

Chapter 13

Danni

Woof!

Gggrrr…

I jerked up, gasping for air and immediately reaching for the light on the nightstand. What the hell had I just heard? As the warm glow filtered into the room, I listened for any additional sounds just as Zorro jumped off the bed, racing toward the stairs. A moment of raw fear settled into my system as I jerked back the covers, trembling as I climbed out of bed. Damn it. I’d allowed the asshole to keep my gun.

There were no other loud sounds, although I could hear the dogs snorting and woofing. As least there were no additional growls. Moving toward the bathroom, I studied the open door leading to the hallway, hating the darkness.

I also loathed everything I’d said to Mustang, even though I’d been justified in doing so. Why couldn’t he believe or trust me? I threw on a robe, fighting my nerves as I walked out into the hallway. I glanced over the bannister, barely able to see anything downstairs. Everything was almost completely black, except for a slight highlight as if the fire was barely embers. I padded down the stairs, moving silently into the living room.

The sight of Mustang hunkered over on the floor, cradling both dogs in his arms, his back heaving from his ragged breathing cut a slice into my heart. What the hell had happened? Then I remembered the dream he’d had the night before. Swallowing hard, I walked further into the room, able to tell that he was extremely distraught. God, I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. He’d managed to grab a piece of my heart and letting go wasn’t that easy.

I crouched down near him, unable to tell if he noticed my presence. When I reached out tentatively, finally taking his hand into mine, I was surprised when he didn’t jerk it away. He continued to cuddle the dogs, refusing to look at me. I rubbed his fingers with my thumb, realizing that his hand was trembling. After at least two minutes passed by, I shifted gears, moving to add some pieces of wood to the fire. Now I was shaking, uncertain of how to deal with this.

While I wasn’t a medical doctor, I’d taken enough psychology classes to recognize PTSD when I saw it. Whatever he’d gone through was the reason for his night terrors. I eased back down on the rug, remaining close yet allowing him some space.

“I’m going to keep Rattler,” he said oh-so very quietly, his words so soft that I had to strain to hear him.

“I knew you would. I can tell how much you love him already.”

Another full minute of dead quiet passed, but at least his breathing had calmed. “He reminds me of a buddy of mine’s dog.”

“Hawk?”

“No, Hawk hasn’t decided to get a pup for his little girl yet, well, his niece but he’s now her guardian. It was a buddy we all went to boot camp with, and Snake and I even served a tour together. We ended up working out of the same base in Afghanistan years later as contractors, along with the other guys who were considered the bad boys of Montana.” He laughed bitterly, as if the memory was too painful.

I remained quiet, trying to figure out why Sandra wouldn’t tell me the damn truth. Was she jealous or just riddled with guilt?

“Anyway, Snake found this dog one day wandering on the outskirts of the base and brought him back to our quarters. Named him Apollo. God, the dog was so damn skinny you could see his bones at first. He’d been abused and Snake took him in, determined to make him healthy and happy.”

“Did it work?”

A slight smile crossed his face. “Yeah. Snake babied that dog to death and they were inseparable. I was kind of jealous how close they were. I think Snake planned on bringing him back to the States.”

“You don’t know what happened?” I asked, realizing instantly that Snake’s death was part of the reason for Mustang’s disturbing nightmares.

“He… We lost him in a combat mission a couple months before I came back for the last time.”

“But I thought you were contractors by then.”

He nodded, darting a single glance in my direction before turning to stare at the fire. “That doesn’t mean that we weren’t assigned combat missions when necessary. We were tasked with a mission, but the insurgents were tipped off to our location. Snake was one of those guys that refused to stop pushing, even when ordered.”

When he hesitated, I dared to move closer, rubbing Rattler’s head, hoping my presence was giving Mustang some kind of comfort.

“Anyway, he was captured, taken prisoner of war, but we had a plan to get him out, only our superiors thought the mission was too risky. The rest of the unit went back anyway.” He ran his hand through his hair several times, once again having difficulty breathing. “Hawk had developed a plan. He was our squad leader, a man who took shit from no one. We all talked and refused to allow Snake to die at one of those fucking places. We’d heard there were other prisoners there as well. We thought we were doing the right thing.”

He reached for what was left of the wine, gulping the entire glass.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I said quietly.

“It’s okay. You deserve to know why I’m such a freaking asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole, Mustang, just a man uncertain of what the hell is going on.”

Snorting, he darted another look in my direction. “No, you pretty much read me.”

I gave him additional space, my heart racing. I could only imagine the torment, the vivid images that played out night after night.

“The mission failed, the prisoner camp blown up by the insurgents. They couldn’t have cared less about the soldiers inside, the men and women who lost their lives. We took our one shot. We thought we knew what we were doing. I’ll never forget the intensity of the fire or the horrible screams coming from the goddamn building. We tried to free them. God knows we tried, but the fire was too hot, the enemy soldiers blasting us with bullets. In the end, we were lucky to get out alive.”

“You did all you could do. You can’t blame yourself.”

He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head several times. “That’s not what we were told and I do blame the fact that I was paralyzed for at least a full minute. If only I’d been able to help Hawk break through the door then maybe Snake would be alive.”

“My God. You can’t do that to yourself. All of you were heroes.”

The way he laughed was gut-wrenching. “Our superiors thought otherwise.”

I thought about what he was saying, another round of sadness overwhelming. “You were blamed for the incident.”

“Oh, you bet. The five of us were lucky that we didn’t end up in a military prison for the rest of our lives. While a firestorm had been created initially, every action we took scrutinized over a period of two weeks, suddenly, they lost interest, although every one of our contracts were either terminated or allowed to end.”

“Why would they do that?”

He turned his head slowly, locking eyes with mine. “I don’t honestly know. I’m not entirely certain any of us asked. We were too heartbroken. I was far too angry to give a shit. When I was asked to accompany Snake’s body back to the States, I wanted to refuse. Jesus. I wasn’t entirely certain I could stand protecting his casket on a long flight.”

“Then why did you?”

He seemed to think about my question. “Because Snake was one of the most honorable men I’d ever known and because I felt I owed it to him.”

I could tell he was hesitating, additional reasons furrowing into his mind.

“And because I wanted to confront Hawk.”

I hadn’t expected his admittance, but it seemed as if a weight was removed from his shoulders as surprise crossed his face. “Because he was the leader of the mission.”

His scattered breathing became heavier, an angry expression crossing his face. “No, because Hawk didn’t follow protocol.”

“That doesn’t mean your mission would have succeeded.”

He closed his eyes, placing the glass back on the table. “Maybe not.”

“Have you talked with Hawk, shared with him how you feel?”

Laughing softly, he placed his hand protectively on Rattler’s head. “Hawk is a great man, certainly more so than I’ve ever been. He has his own share of guilt. We all do. There’s no sense in bringing up the past.”

“That’s not how you’re going to heal, Mustang. You can’t continue harboring the guilt you feel or the anger for your friend. It’s going to kill you.” I took his hand into mine once again, bringing his fingers to my face. “You deserve better.”

“I’m not going to end a friendship because I’m angry.”

“Talking with him isn’t about ending a friendship. It’s about protecting one.”

He huffed, curling his fingers around mine. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Danni, but I can handle this.”

“Let me in, Mustang. No matter what you think, I’m not your enemy.”

“And I’m not yours. You just don’t understand the hardships and everything we went through as a group.”

“You’re right. I’ve never been in a war, but I have lost people I care about. Whatever the circumstances, it always freaking hurts. You can either shrivel up and die or move on with your life. That’s what’s important. Do you really think Snake would want you to harbor this guilt for the rest of your life?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

His words were said tersely, even though he shook his head.

I was exhausted, my nerves on edge. “I’ll leave you alone. You certainly don’t want any of my suggestions but know I do care about you.” The second I started to get up, his grip on my hand tightened.

“Don’t go, Danni. You have no idea how much your caring words mean to me. I’m just… broken inside. I’m not certain I’m the right person for you to be around.”

Damn him. Why couldn’t he let me in? Why?

I loathed the tension that shifted between us again, as he rubbed his thumb across my fingers, creating a combustive wave of heat between my legs. Every part of me tingled from the closeness as well as his touch. I knew without a doubt that he could devour me again, but that would only be an attempt to shove aside his anger and bitterness. Looking toward the fire, I knew I should push him away, but he’d managed to capture every molecule of my heart.

“Rattler. Because of Snake?” I managed to ask, sneaking a glance at his face.

Finally, another smile crossed his face and he purposely removed his hand from mine in order to pet Rattler once again. “And I guess for Apollo, guilt that I can’t seem to get over. I should have looked out for the dog after Snake was killed but I was too busy wallowing in my own self-condemnation. The name suited him.”

There was little else I could say. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for any suggestions from someone he didn’t trust completely. A shiver trickled down my spine. How had we gotten to this place? “I’m so glad you’re keeping Rattler.”

He offered another smile. “He’s a good boy.”

“He’ll bring you joy.”

Mustang inhaled, his eyes shimmering as he stared at the fire. “Why did you become a veterinarian?”

I thought about his question. There was no easy answer. “Because my father was. He made certain I appreciated animals from the time I was a little girl. I knew from the time I was eleven that I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I think he would be proud of me.”

Shifting toward me, he narrowed his eyes. “What happened to him?”

I was forced to suck in my breath, tears forming in my eyes. I hadn’t expected the question. “He was killed, murdered.”

“What?”

I nodded, realizing I hadn’t admitted that to anyone, including Sandra, and I wasn’t certain why I’d shared the information with him. “He was attempting to provide aid a horse who’d been shot.” The words were tougher to admit than I’d realized they would be, salty beads slipping past my lashes.

“What happened?” he asked, his hand now squeezing mine.

“The police who arrived never figured it out. He died from a single bullet wound to the abdomen, bleeding to death before the paramedics arrived.” The words caught in my throat. “But he managed to save the horse. Isn’t that a crock of shit?”

I could tell he was studying me, heard the slight grumble in his breathing.

“That’s why all of this is so important to you.” He placed his glass of wine on the hearth, his upper lip curling.

“I honestly hadn’t realized that until now, but yes. The way I look at it is that my father died a hero. Maybe I simply wanted to follow in his footsteps.”

“Admirable and understandable, but this is an entirely different situation,” he suggested.

“Is it? Is it really? I don’t know what’s going on and in truth, I’m not certain I want to know, but I refuse to allow anyone to hurt an animal. Not on my watch. If you can’t understand that then you don’t get me at all.”

He yanked me closer, his actions forcing Rattler to move. “I get you, lady. I get you more than you have any idea about. But I want to know more. I crave to learn every single thing about you, no matter how much you fight me.”

When he brushed his fingers across my cheek, a series of shivers skated down my spine. Another light switch had flipped inside him, desire blocking his ability to grieve, yet I couldn’t ignore him or my own intense feelings. “Just like you said, we’re not good for each other, Mustang. There are too many demons.”

“Maybe so, but I refuse to allow those demons to interfere. At least not right now.” There was something inside of him that continued to push hard against his crusty exterior, attempting to break free. As he captured my mouth, his fingers digging into my skin, I pressed my hand against his chest, once again marveling in his teeming muscles as they rippled against my fingers.

The kiss became more than just a magnetic draw to the man. It became the kind of desperate need that I’d always hoped I’d feel, but even my darkest fantasies hadn’t been able to imagine. My fingers tingled, my heart racing as he used his mouth to open mine, driving his tongue inside. While the man would never be gentle, his calm demeanor and the quiet way that he held me in place was so intimate, pushing me even further into a yearning that would never be requited.

Even the dogs seemed to sense this was entirely different, both giving us space as he rolled his hand over my shoulder, dragging me closer to him. I was breathless, moaning into the kiss as he finally dominated my tongue, a subtle yet effective reminder that he was entirely in control.

Mustang growled, his hand fisting my hair, his actions more aggressive. I was no longer able to focus, my thoughts running wild about possibilities for the future.

But he had other things in mind.

The second he broke the connection, my body swayed forward, a single whimper escaping my lips.

“You should go to bed. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

He was dismissing me, releasing his strong hold on my hair even as his fingers continued to knead my arm.

“Mustang.” The single word was all I could say, another wave of uncertainty of how to deal with his anger and guilt setting into my system.

“It’s alright.” He turned his gaze toward the fire once again, as if the kiss meant nothing.

A part of me felt shattered, unable to handle his dichotomy of behavior. I loathed the shift in his attitude, the way he could simply shut down his feelings. How dare he do this to me? To us? Only then I realized there was no ‘us,’ just my yearning for what we’d shared to be something else.

After staring at him for a full ten seconds, I got to my feet, fighting the ache in my legs as I moved away. Damn it! I refused to accept we couldn’t get past this. I bit my lower lip before taking definitive steps in his direction, holding out my hand. “No. You’re coming to bed with me and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’m not risking hurting you. You know what I’m capable of.”

I shoved my hand in his direction again. “You’re not going to hurt me. Why don’t you try and trust me for once? If you can’t do that, then…” I allowed the words to trail off, a gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach. After a few seconds, I exhaled, prepared to pull my hand away.

When he intertwined my fingers in his, there wasn’t a part of my body that wasn’t shaking. Very slowly he rose to his feet, towering over me as he inched closer.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, sunshine.”

“I think I do.” I could stare into the man’s dark eyes for days. While I wanted to ignore the electricity surging between us, I was left breathless with anticipation for nothing more than to curl into his arms. The only sounds the crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside, I longed to hear his heartbeat as I went to sleep on his chest. Maybe that was far too romantic for a man like Mustang.

The slight smile he gave me was enough to risk facing his demons. I led him up the stairs, the dogs slowly following. As I moved into the bedroom, I hesitated, trying to catch my breath. There was nothing like the feel of his strong hands as he eased them around me, untying the sash of my robe then tugging the silky material over my shoulders. I closed my eyes as he danced his fingers down my arms. The sound of his weapon being placed on the nightstand was somehow comforting. No one was getting into the house, not unless they wanted to face a giant, angry man.

Only when I heard him removing his clothes did I tug the covers back and crawl into bed.

Within seconds, both Rattler and Zorro had secured their places on the bottom of the bed, giving me a smile as they curled up together. While I remained concerned about both, my professional instinct told me they were going to be just fine. Or so I hoped. I thought about Mustang’s story regarding the dog in Afghanistan, very glad I’d pushed him into keeping Rattler.

A fitting name for a rugged Marine papa.

I watched as he slowly unzipped his jeans and could swear his hands were shaking. He was so terrified that his nightmares would return, potentially placing me in harm’s way of the demon that had wrapped a noose around his neck. While I had no reason for my thoughts, I knew in my heart that he’d never hurt me for any reason.

When he finally crawled into bed, I didn’t need to see a smile crossing his face from hearing the thump of both dogs’ tails. I simply knew it existed. His grip firm, he yanked me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. His body was so warm, the touch of his skin against mine scintillating. The wind continued to howl, limbs from the closest trees hitting just above one of the windows. I hadn’t realized how cold I was until I was snuggled in his arms. My fingers had difficulty bending, the chill enough to increase my pulse.

Sighing, I concentrated on the subtle yet powerful sounds of the two dogs falling asleep, their light snores so damn satisfying. Yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off the ominous shadows as the limbs pitched and reared back before thumping against the pane of glass.

Mustang seemed to sense my apprehension, nuzzling his head against the top of mine.

“Just the snow and ice. It’ll blow over tomorrow. Missoula usually doesn’t get but a couple large storms a year.” He half whispered the words, as if trying to convince himself.

“I love the snow. Just tonight’s storm is entirely different.”

“You’re safe with me.”

I caressed his bare chest, realizing I’d never felt safer in my life. “I know. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Did those men say anything to you when they were here?” he asked after a few seconds.

I lifted my head, uncertain any answer I gave him was going to be acceptable. “Not really. They just warned me to keep my nose out of where it doesn’t belong. I pushed them, trying to get additional information, but they did nothing but laugh.”

“And you don’t remember anything else? No names?”

“No, I…” I struggled to remember the entire conversation, another wave of aggravation as well as fear sliding back into my system. “Nothing substantial. I think they were intoxicated.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Mustang growled. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow might be a long day.”

As I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help but think about the assholes who’d kicked Zorro. “What are you going to do?”

His entire body tensed as he crowded me even closer. “I’ll deal with them my way.”

“Just be careful.”

“You worried about losing me, sunshine?”

“I just might be.”

“Don’t worry. I’m one tough Marine. Remember?”

Yawning, I closed my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. You talk tough, but you’re a pussycat.”

“You obviously don’t know me,” he whispered as he slid his hand into my nightgown, fondling my breast. “But you will learn, just like you’re going to accept my control.”

“Not in a hundred years.” Closing my eyes, I whimpered the second he pinched my nipple, the ache between my legs increasing. Grinning, I crawled my fingers down to his cock, marveling at his full arousal.

“That’s where you are wrong.”

When I stroked the base, taking my time to roll my fingers up to his cockhead, he issued a series of low and husky growls. “No, I’m never wrong.” When he forcefully removed my hand, I huffed, my exhaustion already tugging me toward sleep, the warmth and comfort as enjoyable as anything I’d felt in such a long time. As I started to drift off, his face remained in the forefront of my mind.

So masculine.

So gorgeous.

So full of blatant authority.

“I love you,” I whispered, another series of beautiful images floating into my brain, pulling me deeper into a luxurious sleep.

Another branch hit the window, this time creating an entirely different wave of anxiety. I could even swear a strange odor wafted into my nose, adding to the sickening feeling pooling in the pit of my stomach. As clawed fingers clutched around my throat, the stench became recognizable, a sickening premonition rushing into my mind, images so stark and cold that I was suddenly unable to breathe.

Death.