The SEAL in My Attic Page 2

  “What’s going on, Caleb, have you left your SEAL team?” I didn’t expect him to tell me. He’d always been so secretive and now—

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice a monotone. “I don’t know, all right? I don’t know who I am! I don’t know who you are.” He was trembling, breathing hard, sweat beading his forehead. “I just came here. I had to come here.”

  “You’re Caleb Black.”

  He stared at me and I could see he was afraid, so afraid. “Caleb… I’m Caleb?”

  “Yes, you’re—”

  Glass broke downstairs in my entry way.

  Caleb shoved me against the wall, covered my mouth with his hand. “Stay here,” he whispered.

  Chapter Two

  I couldn’t just stay here.

  Caleb had disappeared like a puff of smoke.

  I inched into my hallway, looking down the stairs towards the front door. The window

  that ran vertically beside it had a round hole through it. Below it were broken shards and a large rock on the tile floor.

  My front door hung open, swaying slightly in the breeze.

  I wiped the sweat on my upper lip.

  Holy shit, what was Caleb mixed up in?

  I crept down the stairs, listening hard, but somehow the air in my house made me feel like it was now empty.

  Caleb must have gone through that open door—after whoever had thrown the rock?

  I hesitated. If I left the safety of my house, I would be entering Caleb’s world, one where I didn’t belong. I was not a warrior. I had never killed anyone with my bare hands, but I was willing to bet Caleb had.

  I wanted to stay inside. I wanted to stay safe. But Caleb was out there and he wasn’t himself. He was hurt, he was confused.

  I blew through the open door and then dived behind my car. If it was just some kid who’d thrown that rock, I’d be embarrassed. But I didn’t live close to any kids and I knew Caleb sure as fuck hadn’t thrown it.

  I stifled the sound of my breathing, listening to the tall grass rustling in my yard and the woods beyond. When was the last time I’d been outdoors and really listened? I heard the rake of claws as a crow lighted on a branch, watched as it squawked at a squirrel that froze and then zipped up a tree.

  I’d avoided the woods for a year. Since…Caleb. One of the few things we’d seemed to have in common was love of the forest that bordered my property. Caleb and I had spent hours walking the trails and had even made love there, me leaning against a tree, him holding me, so it felt as if he’d been stroking me with his entire body.

  The concrete in the carport was cold and I was still in stocking feet, not having had time to put on some shoes. Why hadn’t I done that before I’d come out here? Clearly I was a failure at commando one-o-one.

  But now I was out here I wanted to find Caleb and I wouldn’t find him hiding behind my car.

  I sucked in a deep breath and ran to the cherry trees in the old orchard. Pebbles and roots dug into my feet. I made it beyond the clearing and clung to a sapling.

  Nothing. I was alone out here. Had Caleb just…run off? How could he not know who he was, unless the knock on his head was responsible? I really needed to convince him to go to a hospital for tests as soon as possible. I—

  Hands shoved me. I fell, hitting soft, leaf-covered earth.

  “Stay down!” The voice wasn’t Caleb’s. It was harsher, with a southern accent. I was so surprised, I looked up.

  A boot smashed into my face. “Uh!” I caught my head in my hands, blood wetting them. Christ, I hurt.

  Running feet pounded towards me and my assailant. Whoever it was wasn’t bothering to be stealthy. “Any sign of him?” Southern demanded.

  “No.” The newcomer sounded winded. I didn’t recognise his voice either, though why I should I don’t know. People in my everyday boring life didn’t shove me to the ground and kick me in the face.

  “I told you he’s not here.” Disgust flavoured Southern’s voice.

  “I looked in the kitchen and it was clean. Looks like no one’s been around but the Doc here.”

  “You expect he’d leave any sign if he was here? Remember it’s him we’re talkin’ about,” Southern said.

  “So what do we do with the doctor?”

  “What do you think? Take him deeper into the woods and do him.” Southern kicked me for emphasis. I huffed through the red agony of his boot to the ribs. I’m getting fucking tired of being kicked.

  So do something about it, I ordered myself, or do you really want to go deeper into the woods and let Southern’s pal do you?

  I leapt at Southern’s legs. “The fuc—” he yelped. I grabbed his balls, twisting— We rolled, smacking into the base of a tree. He punched me in the head. My teeth clicked together hard. I elbowed him and he grunted. “You little shit!”

  An explosion, the loudest I’d ever heard. My face stung as I looked up through watering eyes.

  “Travers, you stupid asshole!” Southern yelled. “You’ll hit me!”

  A shadowy figure loomed over us, something long and crooked in his fist. Caleb. He was wearing white runners with blood caking the seams. My runners from my last rotation in surgery.

  “He didn’t mean to shoot at you,” Caleb said in a gentle voice.

  “You!” Southern pointed his gun. I shoved him. It went off, that louder-than-God sound I already hated.

  Caleb leapt and he and Southern crashed beyond me. I heard the wet thud of fists into flesh, a choked off sound. Then…the wind in the grass. The leaves rustling.

  “Caleb?” I croaked. My face throbbed, my ears still rang from Southern’s fist.

  Caleb made no sound. He was just there, touching my face. “Murph,” he whispered. “Look at you.”

  I grabbed him, squeezing my eyes shut. Oh, God, Caleb…

  He pushed me back carefully. “We need to take a look at you.”

  “Back at the house. I have antiseptic, bandages.”

  “I remember.” There was a little sliver of humour in those bleak eyes. “It’s about all I remember.”

  “Peachy.” He had to help me to my feet. “What about those men?” But I spotted Southern, his hands above his head, his eyes open and a tree branch studded through the centre of his torso. I had seen gross injury before, but this was different. This was… I covered my mouth, breathing shallowly. Sweat coated me. “Caleb, what have you—”

  He dragged me towards the house. I saw the other man, his head twisted, left like debris in my woods. “They…they were going to kill me, weren’t they?”

  Caleb didn’t answer. He lifted me off my feet, carrying me under one arm towards the house. My nose was running, the blood pounding pain through my face. And then I was in my kitchen, hunched in a chair, and Caleb calmly pulled out the first aid kit. “Tweezers,” I rasped. “For my face it would be best.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” he muttered. “Don’t you worry, Doc.”

  I laughed because…oh, my God! How could I not be worried? I closed my eyes, concentrated on my breathing and let Caleb pull out the splinters.

  “Ricochet,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “From the bullet that idiot Travers fired when I—Never mind. That’s why you’ve got splinters from a tree embedded in your face.”

  “Oh.” I guess it was helpful to know that. “You killed those men.” I swallowed convulsively. “You killed them.”

  “They were going to kill you. Or worse.”

  “Worse? What could be worse?”

  He looked at me and I didn’t want to ask him what would have been worse than them killing me. Because he looked like he’d tell me and I really, really didn’t want to know. My ears were buzzing and I was swallowing and swallowing and my saliva made me sick. It tasted like iron and blood.

  He wiped my face. Crying, I was crying.

  “Murph.” His tone said he was sorry.

  “You fucking bastard.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tha
t’s twice you’ve wrecked my life.”

  “I did?” He looked surprised at the very idea he’d have that kind of power over me.

  “We have to call the police. We have to—”

  He was shaking his head. “They can’t help you.”

  “Caleb—”

  “They can’t. This is… They just can’t help. All that will happen is they’ll lock you up, at best as a material witness and then you’ll be helpless. And then they will come for you.”

  “More of those men?”

  He nodded.

  “Why did they want me dead?” I sounded plaintive, like a child.

  “It’s me they want. Like you said, twice I’ve wrecked your life.” He stood. “We’ve got to leave. Now. I’ll be upstairs. Put some shoes on, Doc, and grab some clothes.”

  “Caleb, I can’t just—”

  “Don’t ask me to leave you behind, Doc.” His voice was hoarse. “Don’t ask. Because if I do that, they’ll kill you and I can’t stand anything happening to you.”

  He was gone before I could ask him more questions, demand answers. God damn him. Gone before I could even figure out what the hell I was feeling.

  I stood, my bones creaking, aching, sore.

  I found some shoes in the closet, put them on, groaning because it hurt like a bitch when I bent over. Ribs were probably bruised from that kick Southern had given me. Upstairs I threw some clothes into a duffle bag, coming out of my bedroom in time to find Caleb waiting for me, cradling a metal box I didn’t recognise.

  “What’s that?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I…left it here.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “No.”

  “So you came back for it.” Not me. He hadn’t come back to talk to me. If he hadn’t been hurt, confused, I wondered if I’d ever have even known he’d come at all.

  “We have to leave.” He opened the closet and took out one of my sports coats, covering up the gun and holster he was wearing over my T-shirt. “Come on.”

  Since I had no choice, I followed him to my car. “You drive,” he ordered.

  “Where to?” My tone was sarcastic but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Away from here, but drive the way you normally do, like a senior out for a Sunday drive.”

  “Screw you, I don’t drive like that!”

  “Yeah, you do.” He settled in beside me, still holding tight to the box he’d retrieved.

  “How do you know if you don’t remember me?”

  He blinked. “Don’t know.”

  “What about those men…their bodies?” I had to wipe my mouth as I pulled out of my driveway. I was having trouble swallowing again. “We need to call someone!”

  “Stop.” His voice was flat. “Just drive, Doc.”

  “Caleb, those men will be found and—”

  “No, they won’t. Not the way you think.” He put the box aside and pulled out the maps I kept in the passenger door. “Your home will be sanitised.”

  “Sanitised?”

  “Cleaned up.” He opened a map, spreading it wide and studying it. “The police won’t be involved.”

  And why did that make the nausea worse? “Who did those men work for?”

  “The…” He paused. The way he closed his eyes made me think his head was hurting. “Institute.”

  “The institute.” Well, that told me a lot. “I thought you were a Navy SEAL.”

  “I am.” But he was pale, sweat beading his skin. “I…think.”

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  Blue eyes the colour of summer flowers glared at me. “Drive north. When you hit the interstate we’ll stick with it until we’re a town over, then we’ll switch to the back roads.”

  “What is this institute?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice was flat, a verbal slap.

  “You knew enough to know they’d come after you.”

  “I’m going to catch a nap.” He wrapped his arms around himself, almost protectively, closing his eyes.

  “A nap?” How the hell could he sleep? “Listen, I don’t know if that’s a good idea with your head injury.”

  But he was already asleep, his eyes in rapid eye movement and I remembered how he’d told me part of his training had been to snatch sleep in short takes.

  Which was just dandy because it left me turning onto the interstate with no idea if I could trust him.

  What did I really know about Caleb Black?

  The highway was too empty, the car too quiet. Despite Caleb’s naptime, I switched on the radio and Bryan Adams rasped The Only Thing That Looks Good On Me Is You.

  Oh, Jesus.

  That took me back. Right back to the night I’d first met Caleb.

  “I think he’s checking you out,” Lilah said, nudging me as we sat together at the bar of The Lonely Cowboy club, where she’d dragged me.

  “Who?” I’d been up for twenty-four hours. I felt kind of spacy. I knew from past experience that

  when I crashed I’d fall like a redwood.

  “Hot muscle T-shirt guy. He’s sitting alone at the table by the juke box.” Lilah made a smacking

  sound with her lips. “Maybe it’s me he wants… Damn it, no. He’s staring at your ass.” I gave her a groggy look. “This isn’t a gay bar. It’s a craptastic country and western bar. I am

  not getting checked out.” Sometimes logic worked in talking my best friend down from her optimistic

  view of life.

  “He’s into you.”

  “Not even likely.” My last boyfriend had been… I blinked since I couldn’t remember. Years. It

  had been years since someone had touched me. Jesus, now that was depressing.

  “No getting depressed on your birthday,” Lilah scolded.

  “Yeah, like that’ll work. You ever work the ER at Christmas?”

  “Oh, shit!” Lilah’s voice took on an awed tone. “He’s coming over here.”

  I had to look then. What I saw was an impressive six-three of long, tall, dangerous looking

  cowboy. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with two camels kissing on it. A hand-woven band

  around one thick wrist. His cowboy boots were scarred, like he really used them for more than city

  walking. And his eyes… His eyes were lit gasoline, burning into me.

  I swallowed my beer the wrong way and next thing I was gasping and spitting and Lilah was

  thumping me. Wow, I was a real siren. I could see why Lilah was sure the guy was into me. But when I looked up, the arms that held me, had thumped me a bit more heartily than I

  appreciated, belonged to the sizzling cowboy.

  “You were not checking out my ass,” I said, then wanted to die all over again. But no way was

  someone like him, so…beautiful coming on to me in this crappy bar.

  He raised a brow and then looked down at my rear. “It’s a cute ass.”

  “I…yeah?”

  Lilah shoved me and my mainframe came back online. “I’m Murphy and this is my friend

  Lilah.”

  He nodded to Lilah who was watching us, spellbound.

  “Caleb Black.” He looked at me. “I’m on leave so I don’t have time to fuck around. I want you.” My breath got stalled somewhere between my chest and my throat. People just didn’t say things

  like that. Not to me.

  His brows lowered and he bent close, as if absorbing my scent. “Yes or no?”

  My brain was still misfiring. I got lost in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Three

  “Oh my God, what happened to you?” Lilah Green demanded as soon as she opened her apartment door. Her Labrador retriever, Bingo, sniffed at my leg, then lost interest in me and Caleb, ambling back to the sprawling dog bed that dominated Lilah’s small open-space living room.

  “I’m okay,” I reassured her. “Just a little banged up.”

  “A little. Trust a doctor to be a lousy judge,” she grumbled. Then she blinked, seeing
who was with me as Caleb stepped out of the shadows, his gaze on the stairwell behind us. He was charged up, giving off that warrior vibe, which sent a chill ghosting up my spine. “Caleb!”

  Caleb looked at her. “I know you?”

  “Huh?” She frowned at me, as if I could explain my perplexing boyfriend.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Apparently. Come in,” she ordered in a brisk tone. “I’ll get my supplies.”

  I grimaced, knowing I was in for a thorough exam and an even more thorough clean-up of my throbbing face.

  Lilah pushed her long brown hair out of her eyes, leading me firmly to the island that divided her kitchen and living room. “Sit,” she ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I shrugged out of my coat, watching as Caleb paced the room, his gaze sweeping over the windows, the doors to the bathroom and bedroom. I was willing to bet, if we were suddenly under a full-scale attack, he’d already decided the best line of retreat…which didn’t help me relax as Lilah returned and tipped my chin up to take a look at my punctured skin.

  “Ouch,” she said with sympathy. “What have you done to my doctor, handsome?” She glared at Caleb.

  “Saved my life, Lilah,” I told her, heading her off. She was my best friend, a nurse at the same hospital where I worked and she’d sat with me in the lounge too many nights when I’d checked my phone and email, dying for a bat signal from Caleb.

  “What’s going on?” Lilah used cotton balls and liberal amounts of antiseptic to burn what was left of the skin off my face. I gave her advice on my treatment, which she ignored.

  “No bandages,” Caleb said when Lilah took out a roll.

  “Why not?” Lilah asked.

  “Too noticeable.”

  “Uh-huh.” Lilah sat back and folded her arms, giving me her best nurse glare.

  “I came home and found him,” I spilled. “Caleb was in my attic, hurt and confused.”

  “Hurt?” She ran her gaze over him but my dragon didn’t demand Caleb come over for a taste of antiseptic. Wise woman.

  “He’s got a head injury I’m concerned about.”

  “It’s nothing.” Caleb shrugged.

  “Sure, which is why you don’t remember who you are.” Caleb seemed unmoved by my sarcasm. “Jesus, aren’t you concerned?”