Closer (The Unit #1) Page 17

  He had to hold on. He picked up the pace, still going slow and steady, but he was driving into her harder and harder with each thrust.

  “I’m there,” she moaned.

  “Stay with me, Baby. Come with me,” he admonished as he thrust into her again, this time harder than the last.

  They shattered into pieces together. His hot liquid pulsated into her tight center as her pulsating labia sucked greedily at his member.

  Falling from grace, he rested himself against her body. Flesh to flesh, nothing stood between them but unspoken words. When should he tell her how he felt? Would she reciprocate the feelings? He was in love with her. He needed to convince her he was worthy of her love before he confessed. Unrequited love was not an option. He had to find a way to get to her heart. He had to enmesh himself as deeply in her heart as she was in his.

  “Stay right there. I want to clean you up,” he commanded as he peeked out of the door making sure the coast was clear for his naked body.

  He went into the bathroom and wet a wash cloth with warm water. He returned to Emma as quickly as possible. He dipped the washcloth between her legs and cleaned the mixture of juices from between her thighs.

  “I would like nothing more than to stay in here all day with you,” he said, smiling at her lovely face.

  “I would like that too,” she said, returning his smile.

  “But, we have to be there for Rob. We’ll have plenty of time, just you and I, once the funeral is over,” he reassured her.

  She was taken aback by his plans. He planned on keeping her around after the funeral, and she was out of danger. Her smile brightened reaching her eyes.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of that smile?” he said, a quizzical look upon his face.

  “You said ‘after the funeral’. I thought we wouldn’t be together after the funeral. You know, you’d go your way. I’d go mine,” she responded.

  Michael immediately tensed. She thought she was leaving him after the funeral. That couldn’t happen. Surely her smile was not an ‘I’m happy to see you go’ kind of smile. It was now or never.

  “Do you like what just happened between us?” he questioned, tensing, waiting for her response.

  “Michael, what I just experienced was mind blowing. I have never had a lover like you,” she replied, a Cheshire cat grin still on her face.

  “Is that all you think we are, lovers?” he asked, dreading her answer.

  “What are you trying to say?” she questioned. She wasn’t going to make a fool out of herself and say anything before he said something first. This was the first ‘Where are we going’ conversation they had. She wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it.

  “I can’t speak for you, Emma. But I have told you, on more than one occasion, that you’re mine,” he stated, trying to gauge her reaction.

  She had thought he said that in the throes of pleasure. She could see now he really meant it. She felt a wave of relief wash over her body. She visibly relaxed into the bed. He moved closer to her, needing to caress her face as he said the next words. He cupped her face in his hands and looked directly into her eyes. “I want to find out where this can take us because I am not letting you go. Not now. Not ever,” he alleged.

  She was dumbstruck. He was talking forever. What did he mean? Surely not forever, forever. What was she, in eighth grade like Bethany?

  “I want to see where we can go too, Michael,” she said as she watched him noticeably exhale. “I was afraid to say anything because I thought this was all about the adrenaline rush for you. I thought once everything was over, we would go back to our separate lives.”

  “Let me make myself perfectly clear, so there is no room for confusion. You. Are. Mine. We do not have separate lives any longer. I want to be with you every day, in every way. We don’t have to rush anything. We have all the time in the world. I want you comfortable with the fact that I am not letting you go anytime soon, unless of course, that is what you want. Is that what you want?” he questioned, sadness clouding his eyes.

  “Of course not, Michael. I want to be yours. I love the way that sounds, and more importantly, I love the way that feels,” she reassured him taking his face into her hands.

  She brought her lips to his, but this time, she did the taking. She brought her mouth over his in a reverent kiss. She didn’t want any doubts left in that gorgeous head of his.

  “You don’t mean to control me, do you, Michael,” she asked afraid of the answer.

  “Only to keep you safe. And in the bedroom,” he said with a devilish grin.

  She grinned back gazing into his light eyes, which were now so full of life. She never remembered a time when his eyes shined the way they did at that exact moment. He had said it to her after having sex, which meant he wasn’t just trying to charm his way into her bed. He had said it, and he had meant it.

  “I will be going back to work, Michael. My career is very important to me, and I have to finish what I started,” she said, determined not to budge on this issue.

  “Of course, you are. I would never want to keep you from anything that made you happy. Because, Emma, that’s all I want, a happy you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her once more.

  “Good. You make me so happy, Michael,” she admitted with a wink hoping to lighten the serious mood which had enveloped them.

  “We probably should get downstairs and have some breakfast. You can give a man an appetite,” he bantered.

  “I know what you mean.” She winked.

  « Chapter Twenty-Six »

  Emma sat on the couch waiting for the guys to share two bathrooms. Today was the day of the funeral. It was a good day for a funeral. The skies were dark overcast on the verge of rain; however, the weatherman said the chance of rain was only twenty percent.

  “I just got an email of the autopsy report,” Rob said handing the printed paper to Michael. “I can’t read it. Will you read it to me?” Rob whispered.

  “Do you want to go into another room, someplace private?” Michael asked, cognizant of Rob’s need for privacy.

  Rob looked determined. “Nope. You can read it to everyone here. Everyone here had a hand in attempting to save Lizzie. Everyone here can know.”

  “Immediate cause of death - due to internal bleeding from repeated physical and sexual trauma, and dehydration,” Michael read from the report. “Manner of death – Homicide. Remarks – Decedent presented as homicide victim. Presence of ante mortem bruising on lower abdomen and back consistent with internal examination and indicative of internal bleeding from trauma to reproductive organs. Lab values showed hypernatremia indicative of dehydration in addition to hypovolemia from trauma.”

  “Fuck,” Rob cried, “she suffered.”

  “There wasn’t that much blood on the mattress. What does it mean?” asked Michael.

  “It means those bastards raped her to death. They tore her reproductive organs during the rapes causing blood to leak out of the vessels and into the surrounding tissue. The bruises on her body would only form if she were alive while she bled out. It means she fucking suffered. They tortured her to death with rape.” Rob could taste the bile rising in the back of his throat. He looked peaked and green. He was going to be ill. He made a run for the downstairs bathroom and all heard him wrenching up his breakfast.

  “Rob man, what can I do?” Michael asked as Rob reemerged from the bathroom.

  Rob quickly lowered his head to keep his tearful eyes from making contact with anybody in the room. He had the information now but that only made things worse. Knowing how she had suffered was yet a lower level of hell for Rob.

  Emma started to cry. She cried for Rob and for Lizzie. She cried because if she hadn’t been working on the project, the terrorist would have never wanted her. Michael sensed the directions of her thoughts and found her in three long strides. He wrapped her in his arms and repeated, “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She had no idea Lizzie had suffered such torture. She would never forgive the terro
rists, and she thought if they weren’t already dead or in custody, she would kill them herself. For the first time since meeting Michael, she finally understood why Michael laughed the day he described the torture he was going to inflict on Ahmed. She understood the will to inflict pain.

  Sympathy filled the men’s eyes. They may not know exactly what Rob was going through, but they felt his pain. He could tell. Their collective strength gave Rob the strength to walk out the door.

  At the funeral home, there was a steady stream of mourners wishing to pay their respects to Lizzie. The casket was open and the funeral director had done a nice job fixing Lizzie up the best he could. Rob had chosen her favorite blue sundress, even though it was winter. Summer was Lizzie’s favorite time of year. One-by-one, the mourners hugged Rob and Lizzie’s parents who stood to the side of the open casket. Rob couldn’t keep his eyes off of his Lizzie. He longed to hold her in his arms, and he would after everyone had left him alone. The mourners kneelt before the casket saying their last prayers, wishing Lizzie a peaceful afterlife. Some even prayed she find her way back to them in her next life.

  Once the mourners left to make their way to the cemetery, Rob asked for a few minutes alone with his Lizzie. Everyone hugged him again and left him alone. Rob went to the casket and picked up a very stiff Lizzie in his arms. He stroked the hair off of her forehead. She wouldn’t like the haircut the funeral director gave her. Rob held her for what felt like only a few minutes before laying her carefully back down.

  “You were it for me, Lizzie,” he sobbed at her side. “I will never love again. No woman could ever replace you. I don’t know how I am supposed to go on without you. Could you give me some sign? Tell me what you want me to do because, Lizzie, all I can think about is joining you.”

  The aroma of the room full of flowers filled his nostrils and he was immediately taken back to the time they spent together in the tropics. He remembered the way she looked in her bikini lying out on the white sand, so full of life. He remembered chasing her into the crystal blue waters and throwing her into the air. He remembered the way they made love every night under the stars. He knew the memories were Lizzie’s way of asking him to remember the good times. And their life together was filled with good times. His memories were a stark contrast to the girl who rested in the casket. It was his Lizzie, no doubt, but her essence was gone. He sobbed some more.

  When his sobs slowed and he was able to catch his breath, he slowly slipped his dog tags from around his neck. It was all that he had that meant anything to him. He placed the metal tags around her neck and lowered her head back to the pillow. He was leaving a piece of his heart in that casket, the largest piece. He knew he would never get it back.

  At the cemetery, he watched in a daze not hearing a word the preacher said. Instead, he focused on all of his memories with Lizzie. He focused on the last time they used their grill together cooking steaks. He focused on how she could bring fun to anything, even cooking. What was he to do now? As they lowered the casket into the ground, Rob fell to his knees. He wanted nothing more than to join her.

  His brothers knew he needed this time to grieve for his loss. The stood by at the ready, as a source of constant emotional support for Rob. Someone would have to stay with him over the course of the next several weeks, and Michael hoped Steve was up for the mission.

  Once back at the house, the mourners gathered, ate the catered food and drank the drink provided by Rob’s mother. She made her rounds, talking to each guest asking them to share a fond memory of Lizzie. She wanted Rob to hear the good that Lizzie brought to life.

  Rob was too busy burying himself under four fingers of scotch. He was on his fourth drink by the time most of the mourners left.

  “Emma and I are taking off tomorrow, but Steve said he will hang around and keep you company for a while,” Michael told Rob.

  Rob’s hazy eyes met Michael’s. Was he even hearing Michael?

  “I’m only an hour away. If you need me, call, and I’ll come right away. It’s just, I think you need us out of your hair,” he explained to his brother.

  Now that he had Emma and she agreed to be his, all he wanted to do was touch her, and he knew Rob didn’t need to see that. He didn’t need to see them so happy around each other. They were mourning for Rob and Lizzie now. But, eventually, they would move on, and he didn’t know how long it would take Rob to do the same.

  He felt confident in his decision to keep Steve there. Steve said he didn’t have any jobs lined up. Tony and Rob didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye after their last mission, but he was impressed with the way they seemed to bury the hatchet. Tony wouldn’t be a good choice to stay because he had already said he had two jobs lined up. Kevin worked for Homeland Security and had a wife. And Michael had just found Emma. Steve said he could afford to stay for three weeks. That should be enough time to get Rob through the worst of it. Still, Michael was worried that Rob no longer had anything to live for, that he would end his own life.

  « Chapter Twenty-Seven »

  They rented a car to drive back to Emma’s cabin. There she would follow in her Subaru and he would drop off the rental. It was an uneventful drive back to the cabin, but night had fallen. They would return the car in the morning. Tonight was about them. Emma cooked pork chops smothered in gravy, complete with mash potatoes and green beans. He could get used to her cooking, the meat fell from the bone and melted in his mouth. If he didn’t love this woman before, he did now.

  After dinner, she opened a bottle of white wine. She liked drinking a good Chardonnay to relax and after the last week and a half, she needed to relax. She strolled her way into the living room and was gifted with a fire burning bright in her fireplace. How she missed her cabin. For a while there, she thought she would never see it again. She stopped at the edge of the sofa and handed Michael a glass of wine. He much preferred beer, but wine would work. She sat next to him, and he put his arm around her shoulder safely tucking her into his side. It was a protective gesture she adored.

  “I am going back to work tomorrow,” she said waiting for an argument.

  “You’re forgetting the friendly CIA agent still after you,” Michael bantered.

  “I didn’t forget about him, but I can’t live my life in fear. Besides, I work at a high security facility. No one will be getting past Paul,” she asserted.

  “Is it absolutely imperative that you go in?” Michael asked cautiously. He didn’t want her upset with him because of his controlling ways.

  “I now have less than two weeks to work out the bugs with the prototype. That is, assuming Homeland Security returned it,” she said dejectedly.

  “Let me call Kevin," he said reaching into his pants pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and dialed. Kevin answered on the second ring. “Did you get home okay?” Kevin asked Michael, still concerned about Ingrams himself.

  “We did. We are at the cabin. She is safe for now. Listen, I am calling to make sure Homeland returned Emma’s project to the DOD?” Michael asked, waiting for an affirmative response. Kevin didn’t disappoint.

  “We did three days ago. How’s Rob doing?” Kevin asked.

  “We had to leave so Rob wasn’t reminded of what he had with Lizzie. Honestly, I’m worried he is gonna try to take his own life,” Michael reasoned his concerns out loud.

  Emma gently squeezed his hand in a reassuring gesture.

  “I asked Steve to stay with him for the next couple of weeks. I figured the next few weeks would be the hardest,” Michael explained.

  “How did Rob take to that idea?” Kevin asked.

  Michael looked into Emma’s eyes and said, “I didn’t really give him a choice.”

  Kevin started laughing on the other end of the phone. Boy, was it good to hear laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Michael asked in mock horror.

  “You. There you go, imposing your will on others. How is Emma gonna take that?” Kevin asked.

  Michael smiled. “You let me worry about Emma.�
� Michael squeezed Emma’s hand this time. The men talked for a few more minutes before Michael disconnected the call.

  “Everything has been returned to your office. Homeland informed the powers that be of the situation, so you won’t be in any trouble for removing the documents or the prototype. Paul was left out of the loop, so everything should go back to the way it was before with him. Homeland told only those on a need-to-know basis, which would be your immediate supervisor, the general and the agents at the CIA,” Michael explained.

  “What are we going to do about Ingrams? We have no proof,” she asked, a frightened look in her eyes. Now that she had time to relax, she had time to think. She was almost healed from the beating she had suffered at his hands. Just the thought of his name raised the hair on the back of her neck.

  “Ingrams isn’t finished yet. He is a man with a vendetta against you and, now, me. He will stop at nothing to rid the world of both of us. We will just have to be prepared. If you really want to go back to work tomorrow, I will drive you to and from work. I will escort you into and out of the building. At no times, and under no circumstances, are you to be alone or leave the building without me,” he commanded.