23
Reaper woketo sunlight streaming through the open window directly into his eyes. He shot up instantly, his heart racing. He’d overslept. He leaned over Caroline’s sleeping form and looked out the window, judging by the position of the sun it was at least three hours past sunrise. Fuck. How could he have been so lax?
As he pushed up to sitting, his gaze turned to Caroline and the truth hit him like a bludgeon. It was her. She’d made him weak and so relaxed he’d let precious hours slip by when his team needed him. He didn’t deserve to call himself their leader.
Better take stock of his remaining supplies before she woke and ensnared him with those rapturous blue eyes of hers. He opened an energy bar and consumed it as he checked his field medical kit and weapons and tucked everything into the Velcro pockets of his black cargo pants.
There was one thing missing, and he felt worse than a fool for not having noticed before now. The serum. The flat black pouch wasn’t with the rest of his things. His heartbeat kicked up a notch. Where the hell was it? He ransacked the hut, his shoulders sagging with relief when he spied it under the cot. Caroline must’ve sensed his need to preserve that pouch and hidden it. With trembling fingers, he pulled it out and slowly unzipped the package to check its contents. The sight that greeted him left him quaking.
Two vials were missing. Not one. He was short an entire dose. Which meant one of the men on his team would have to go without.
Reaper might as well have pressed a gun to the man’s head and pulled the trigger. His death would certainly be more pleasant that way.
Without the serum, a soldier would fall into violent seizures, pain would rack his entire body, and if what Dr. Winters had said was true, he would deconstruct on a molecular level. It was a fate so horrifying Reaper couldn’t even fathom the thought. “Caroline, what did you do with the other vial?”
Obviously groggy and still half asleep, she rubbed her eyes and propped herself up on an elbow before answering, “You needed it. You were clammy and unresponsive, so I gave you another dose when you were out.”
His quivering turned into full-on shakes so bad he almost dropped the entire pouch on the floor. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why in the fuck would you give me another dose? You’d already given me one.”
She finally shook off the lingering peace of sleep and sat up fully, but this time her naked breasts weren’t enough to make him forget the enormity of their situation.
“I thought it was some kind of steroid or super drugs you gave your soldiers if they were injured in the field. Did I give you too much? Will it hurt you?”
No wonder he’d healed so quickly from his wound. She’d given him an extra dose, taking it from someone else so that he could heal just a little bit more quickly. The thought turned his stomach. He’d already hurt them enough—and now here was one more blow he was dealing them.
How could he have ever thought he and Caroline could be together, that they could have some . . . happily ever after? He didn’t have the right to his own life, let alone happiness. It had been beyond naïve for him to let himself believe it. Letting her into his heart had been a mistake. Hadn’t Jack Mankel taught him that lesson again and again? Trust was a trap unless it was between a soldier and his team—and even then, his men had been wrong to follow him into Project Mayhem.
There were some people on this earth who would never have love or happiness. Reaper had known that for years, but this little slip of a girl had made him forget for a while. She’d revealed the last speck of weakness buried deep in his soul, the slender slip of hope that maybe he deserved love.
Reaper didn’t deserve anything but to die a slow, torturous death.
Caroline climbed to her feet, her questioning gaze making him second-guess his anger even now.
Weak. Oh, how weak she made him.
“Reaper, please tell me I didn’t hurt you. I-I love you. If I screwed up by doing that, it was only because I thought I was saving your life.”
He recoiled in horror. “Love? You think you did this out of love?” He held open the package before her in accusation.
“What did I do?! I don’t understand. Why are you so upset? Surely they can give you more.” Her voice wavered with desperation, but he forced himself to block it out. Just like he forced himself to ignore the knife slicing through his open heart. It didn’t matter that she’d had no way of knowing how important that serum was to his men. He’d known.
He realized right then and there that all it would take would be a few pleading words to render him to putty in her hands. He had to put some distance between them right now before he completely lost sight of his mission. And he had to do it now.
“Put your clothes on. Cover up now. We have to go. There’s no time.” He turned his back to her, zipped up the black pouch and secured it in his pants. It would take them at least three hours to reach his extraction point. If he was lucky enough to find the small stealth helicopter he’d stashed in the woods still in place, he’d be able to get them out of the jungle and to the nearest airfield, where he could secure a flight back to the States. Even then, he was pushing the time limit. The guys would already be in bad shape.
Her entire body was shaking, but she managed to pull the robe on without his help. She knotted it over her belly once more, her exposed flesh making him want her in spite of everything, something that just pissed him off even more. His weakness wouldn’t be the death of them—it would be the death of his men.
“Please, please talk to me.” She grabbed his arm and pressed herself against his side, and despite his vow to keep his distance, he couldn’t help but be aware of every inch of her skin touching his.
There was no way he was strong enough to take her out of here with this shadow hanging over his head. He had to get away from her. He had to clear his mind, and above all, he had to deliver the serum to his men before they died.
Almost in a trance, he walked her back to the bed, looking at her but not really seeing her. All he could see were his teams’ faces, the accusatory stares they would give him when he confessed the truth. His hand found its way into his pocket and to the small roll of 550 cord.
“Reaper, what are you doing?”
