Raid by Kristen Ashley
“I love you, too,” I told him, losing focus, my eyes slowly closing and reopening.
“I’m gonna take care of this,” he repeated his vow.
“Okay, sweetheart,” I replied, my eyes slowly closing and staying that way.
I felt the brush of his lips on mine.
Then I felt nothing.
* * * * *
I opened my eyes to sun then I blinked.
At what I took in, I pushed up the hospital bed, everything hitting me at once.
My arm in a cast. Pain in my ribs. My face. A concentration of pain at my upper lip.
No.
Pain everywhere. Dull pain, but it was there.
Everywhere.
And three big men I’d never seen standing around my bed.
Oh God!
“Told you you’d freak her,” a woman’s voice stated, and around the big man to my right, who had brown hair and a wicked scar on his face but was nevertheless extremely hot, came a pretty, petite blonde woman holding an adorable baby boy to her hip.
Her eyes hit mine. “Yo, I’m Sylvie Creed.”
This meant nothing to me and my hand inched toward the call button.
Her eyes didn’t miss this so she kept talking, jerking her head to the dark-haired man with unusual blue eyes standing to my left. “That’s Knight Sebring.”
Knight.
Knight was Raiden’s buddy.
My eyes went to him and my hand stopped.
“Least she knows you,” Sylvie muttered toward Knight, and an unbelievably beautiful woman came around his side and looked down at me with a small smile.
Then she said in a soft, calming voice, “Hi, Hanna. I’m Anya, Knight’s woman, and you’re safe. Okay?”
Not okay.
Nothing was okay.
Or nothing would be okay until I knew where my man was.
Because I remembered. I remembered everything. All of it. And as bad as what happened to me in my foyer was, it was worse with Raiden vowing he was going to take care of it.
I had a feeling with what he did to Meg (and he did do what he said he was going to do to Meg, the last thing I heard, she’d moved to Denver, mostly because she had no choice), since this was way worse, he was going to take care of this.
So I asked Anya, “Where’s Raiden?”
“That’s what we need to talk to you about,” she told me.
I did not take this as good.
“First, as Sylvie said, this is Knight,” she motioned to the man at her side and he jerked his chin up at me. “That’s Tucker Creed, he’s married to Sylvie,” Anya went on, motioning to the man with the scar. I looked to him and he gave me a small smile. “And that’s Deacon,” she concluded.
My eyes flew to the end of the bed to take in the extortionately good-looking, tall, dark-haired, scary man there.
“Looks like she knows you too,” Sylvie noted.
“I’m pleased to meet you all,” I cut in. “But where’s Raiden?”
“Hunting,” scary, hot guy at the foot of my bed grunted, and my heart started beating hard.
Or harder.
“Hunting?” I whispered.
“Yesterday,” Knight spoke gently and my eyes cut to him, “you were assaulted in your home by a man we’re looking for. You have a broken ulna, six broken ribs, a concussion and two stitches in your lip that the doctors say will dissolve and you’ll barely notice the scar. You’ll be under observation here at least until tomorrow and you’ll endure a recuperation period, but the doctors have assured your family that you’ll make a complete recovery. There’s no lasting damage.”
Except for the broken arm, ribs, barely noticeable scar, mild head injury and recuperation period and the news that my “family” was out there, probably worried like crazy about me, my ninety-eight year old Grams amongst them, that all sounded a lot better than what happened to me felt.
But I had bigger fish to fry.
“Okay,” I said softly. “But what does hunting mean?”
“You know your man, babe.” This came from Tucker Creed, and he was also speaking gently. “You know what it means.”
He was right. I knew what it meant.
Oh God.
I looked frantically to Knight. “You have to stop him. Stop him from doing something that might get him in trouble. Stop him from doing something he can’t live with.”
“He’ll be able to live with this,” Deacon’s voice rumbled up from my feet, and my eyes moved to him.
“Don’t let him do this,” I begged Deacon, his mentor, a man he trusted.
“Woman, we’re here to find out how to help him,” Deacon told me, and I stared.
“We need to find him, Hanna,” Sylvie Creed said, and my eyes moved to her. “Find him, calm him down and find these guys who did his to you. You need to help us.”
Okay, calming him down sounded good.
“Tell us everything you know,” Tucker Creed ordered.
Darn.
“I don’t know anything,” I told him.
“No, honey, everything you saw, everything they said, everything you can remember,” he clarified.
I shook my head. “I… they set on me fast and I…”
Sylvie (and her cute baby) leaned into me and she wrapped her hand carefully around my cast. “We dig this can’t be easy, not this soon after it happened, but as they say, time is of the essence. Anything you remember could help, Hanna. I know it sounds crazy, but even what shoes they were wearing could help. An accent you heard in their voices.”
My eyes widened, she saw it and leaned in.
“Talk to me, girl,” she urged.
I talked.
They asked questions.
I answered them and talked more.
Then they were done, and I knew this because they all looked at each other and Anya shifted around the bed.
“Give me Jesse, Sylvie,” she said.
Sylvie handed Jesse to Anya, leaned in and kissed her son before she ran a finger down his cheek then she turned and looked down at me.
“We’ll find your man and it’ll all be good. I promise, Hanna.”
I nodded. She nodded back, turned, tipped her head back to her man and she started to move. Tucker Creed moved with her.
I lunged, pain shot through me, but my hand clamped onto Knight’s.
He stopped and looked down at me.
Really unusual blue eyes. Startling.
“Hanna?” he prompted.
“Don’t let him do anything he can’t live with,” I whispered. “He lives with enough. He doesn’t need more. Not because of me.”
“What happened to you is because of me,” Knight returned, and my brows drew together in confusion. “So Raid won’t be takin’ care of this sick fuck. That’ll be me.” He caught my eyebrow movement and finished, “In other words, don’t worry.”
That seemed pretty firm.
Still.
“I’m trusting you,” I told him.
His hand twisted until it was holding mine and he bent close.
“That means something to me,” he stated low.
Then he let me go, moved back and he was gone.
That was it.
Seriously?
“If he says it means something, seriously, it means something,” Anya told me, and my eyes went to her to see her bouncing Jesse on her hip.
“Did I just get surrounded by a pack of hot guys and a petite woman who is clearly badass who are all off to hunt my man, who’s off hunting the man that had three of his goons beat the dickens out of me?”
She grinned and answered, “Yes.”
I settled back on a “humph” then kept grumbling. “You know, when Raiden entered my life, I knew something huge was happening. I was not wrong, seeing as the foundations of my world have shifted about a dozen times. Most of it was good, but I have to admit, I’m kind of getting sick of it,” I shared and she smiled.
Then she said, “You’ll get used to it.”
I star
Great.
Then she turned her head and cooed at cute, little Jesse.
Watching that, I sighed, thinking that maybe I would.
Then I went straight back to worrying.
* * * * *
Raid
Three weeks later…
They all stood in the dark parking lot of the Pancake House to touch base before they disbursed after finally taking care of the guy responsible for attacking Hanna and Knight’s girls.
“I want Nair,” Raid rumbled.
“Patience, Raid,” Knight said quietly.
“I think you get him, man,” Creed stated. “He found his woman on the floor of their house with her face in a puddle of blood she coughed up. You need to speed this shit up.”
“That fucker we took care of had no idea Hanna had anything to do with Knight ‘cause he had no idea Raid was lookin’ for him. He doesn’t even fuckin’ know who Raid is,” Deacon put in. “He was just pissed he lost a shitload of dope and it was Hanna who called it in. The operation is still sound.”
“When you got a woman or kids or, I don’t know, maybe even just a fuckin home you give a shit about, Deacon, then you can talk about how sound this operation is,” Creed growled.
Deacon’s body went dangerously still.
“That blow was low,” he clipped.
“But it hit true,” Creed bit off.
“I don’t want a fuckin’ debrief and I don’t wanna pull you two out of a goddamned smackdown. I wanna get to my woman,” Raid ground out and his eyes cut to Knight. “We bottom line this, this shit is on Nair. I want him.”
“I indirectly put your woman in danger, Raid. This shit is on me,” Knight stated.
“I don’t wanna go over what we’ve gone over time and a-fuckin’-gain the last three weeks either, but I will repeat what I’ve said a hundred goddamned times. That’s bullshit.” Raid’s eyes grew sharp on Knight and his voice got rough. “I. Want. Nair.”
“We do that, we have to do it in a way that it’s permanent,” Knight replied. “That requires planning.”
“Think we proved about ten hours ago not a one of us has got a problem with a permanent solution to a problem,” Deacon reminded them.
The men fell silent.
Knight broke it. “I need to understand what my brother’s involvement is, Raid. I know you get that.”
“Yeah. I do. So find the fuck out and let me loose on Nair,” Raid shot back.
“I’ll take care of Nair,” Knight returned.
“I get he’s fucked with you, and God forbid he reaches out to Anya, Kat or Kasha, then you can have him. But until you come home to find someone you love lyin’ unconscious in her own blood, I got dibs.”
Knight held Raid’s eyes.
Then he jerked up his chin, saying, “Fair enough.”
Raid headed to his Jeep.
He swung in, pulled out and didn’t look back.
Because he was headed home.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later…
Raid drove his Jeep around the back of the farmhouse.
It was after one o’clock in the morning and all the outside lights were on. The house was dark except a light coming from the kitchen.
She was up.
He parked in the back, angled out, moved swiftly through the yard, up the back steps and tried the handle.
She’d locked up.
He almost smiled his relief when he inserted his key, got the door unlocked, moved in and stopped dead.
Miss Mildred was standing in the kitchen.
Fuck.
He stood silent, but impatient as she made her slow way to him, stopped a foot away and tilted her head way back.
Her shrewd eyes moved over his face.
He let them and it was his mother’s deeply ingrained manners that kept him standing there rather than setting her aside and getting to Hanna.
He watched her eyes close.
When she opened them, she whispered, “Wash it away. God gives tools to His earth that He uses, son. He puts men here like you to love girls like her, to protect them,” she lifted her hand, rested it on his chest and her sharp eyes flashed with wrath, “and, if necessary, to avenge them.”
It was then Raid closed his eyes.
She knew.
“But you know that already, don’t you, Raiden Miller?” she asked. “You already know God’s use for you ‘cause He’s needed to use you before.”
Raid kept his eyes closed and said nothing.
“Wash it away,” she kept whispering, the words flowing through him, leaving him clean.
Jesus.
Fucking clean.
Raid hadn’t felt clean in nearly five years.
He opened his eyes.
She shuffled away, murmuring, “Go to her. I’ll call Eunice. It’s late but she’ll come get me.”
“Miss Mildred—”
She slowly turned her head to pin him with her eyes. “Proud of you, son. You do things others can’t do and you stay standing. Now get upstairs and reap your rewards.”
Jesus, she understood everything.
Raid needed no further prompting. He moved through the kitchen, but stopped and turned when she called, “Boy?”
His eyes hit her.
“Since she got home, Spot won’t leave her side. Take your time, but I’ll be expectin’ you to do somethin’ about that. I want my cat back.”
Again, Raid nearly smiled.
He didn’t.
He jerked up his chin.
She slowly folded herself into a chair and reached for the phone sitting on the kitchen table.
Raid turned, moved through the foyer and took the stairs three at a time.
Their room was dark, but he could see Hanna asleep in bed.
He went directly there, sat on the side and was immediately attacked by a cat.
Raid put a hand to either side of the animal’s considerable stomach, hauled up its bulk and put him on the floor.
When he turned back, Hanna was up on an elbow.
“Raiden?”
The cat attacked his ankles.
He ignored it, reached out and tucked his girl’s hair behind her ear. “Yeah, honey.”
“Raiden,” she breathed, then moved and she was in his arms.
Hanna, safe, happy he was home and in his arms.
Thank.
Fuck.
Raid held her close, but he held her carefully.
Hanna held on tight.
Clean.
She pulled back, lifted her hands like she was going for his face, stopped and grumbled, “Stupid cast.”
“Baby, let me get my boots off and we’ll lie down.”
“I want to see your face.”
“You can see my face tomorrow. I’ll be two seconds.”
“I want to see your face now,” she demanded.
She reached for the light, and he sighed before he reached beyond her to turn on the light.
The cat jumped up on the bed. Raid set him down on the floor again and went back to Hanna.
She lifted her good hand to his face and her eyes moved over it.
He hoped like fuck she didn’t see what her grandmother saw.
Her eyes stopped and looked into his. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you get him?”
She couldn’t read him.
Thank.
Fuck.
“Yeah.”
“Is everyone safe?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes again moved over his face.
Finally, they stopped on his.
“Next time you go on a path of vengeance, Raiden Ulysses Miller, I expect updates direct from you. I don’t care how hilarious Sylvie is, and by the way, you can tell Deacon his grunts of, ‘All good. Don’t worry. Raid will be home soon,’ don’t tell me anything.”
Looking in Hanna’s sleepy but annoyed pretty blue eyes, he knew she was okay.
So that was w
* * * * *
Eight hours later…
Raid opened his eyes, saw ceiling and realized he couldn’t breathe.
This was because he had a fat cat lying on his chest.
He also had his woman’s head on his shoulder and her heavy casted arm on his gut.
He didn’t move.
Time passed.
He still didn’t move.
He knew when she woke because her body shifted minutely before it melted into his.
She gave it time before she whispered, “Honey, you awake?”
“Yeah.”
She snuggled closer.
The cat woke and started purring.
“He’s going to want food in about five seconds,” Hanna warned.
Raid, nor Hanna, were going anywhere.
“He’s gonna have to wait,” Raid replied.
“Can you breathe?” she asked.
“No,” he answered.
He felt her smile against his skin.
She fell silent.
Raid didn’t break it.
Eventually, she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He did not.
“It’s over,” he declared in an effort to communicate that to her.
“I’ll take that as you not wanting to talk about it,” she mumbled.
She got him.
Since she did, he didn’t bother to confirm.
She was silent another long while before she remarked, “Sylvie’s a kick in the pants.”
Sylvie Creed was a lot more than that.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“It was nice of her and Tucker to go all out for us,” she noted. “Especially taking them away from Jesse.”
“They were away from Jesse for a day,” Raid told her. “They hooked up with me, and Tucker went back to Denver ‘cause we were havin’ better luck with our informants using Sylvie. Then Sylvie found she couldn’t be away from her boys and she took off to join Tucker and Jesse in Denver, but those two worked the case in Denver. Tucker came back, then he left and Sylvie came back. In the end, Tucker came back, Sylvie left to go to Jesse and then it was done.”
“Sounds confusing.”
“They don’t like to be apart and they don’t like to be away from their boy. Now they’re all together and headin’ back to Phoenix.”
“Good,” she murmured.
“Is it?” he asked, and she lifted her head to aim her still sleepy eyes at him.
“Well, yeah. The family back together, this done.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he returned.