Page 4 of Resisting Temptation (Men of Honor 3)
My sister’s quiet, weak sobs quickly snap me into motion. I rush over to her while keeping my gun trained on the other two. When I look down at her, my heart shatters at her tear-streaked, pale face, and fear replaces my rage when I see the amount of blood surrounding her.
Whipping out my cell phone I call 911 and give them the address of the location, and vaguely tell them what happened. The two guys flee the room, but I don’t care and I don’t try to stop them. The lady tries to keep me on the phone but I hang up, wanting to give all my attention to my sister.
Untying her wrists, I get on the bed beside her and pull her up between my legs. I cradle the top half of her tiny body to my chest. Her labored breathing tells me things are bad.
Leaning down, I kiss her forehead. “Hang in there, kid, everything is going to be okay. Help is on the way.” Tears fall onto her small, pale face and mix with her own. That’s when I realize I’m crying. I haven’t cried since before my dad died. I clench my teeth from the pain that’s slicing through my chest like a hot blade. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I grind out.
“I’m sorry, Cade,” she sobs weakly, “he said he’d kill you if I ever told.”
She was scared for me; she kept the secret to protect me. Guilt strikes me hard and fast, mixing in with all the other painful emotions pulsing through my body. I didn’t think my heart could pull any tighter than it already was, but it does. The agony ripping through my chest is making it difficult for me to breathe.
I pull her in closer to me, thinking if I hold her tighter she won’t be able to slip away from me, but I was wrong. That day, before the ambulance had even arrived, my sister died in my arms. And the moment she took her last breath was the exact moment ice froze over my heart. It was the same day I stopped living and only existed.
CHAPTER 1
Cade
Ten years later – Iraq
Trudging through the trees and dry patches of grass, I make my way to the location I have been coming to for the past three nights, and I immediately know she’s there again. Because the most beautiful voice that I’ve ever heard hits me and, like always, the sweet, soft sound of it is like a blow to my chest.
Seriously, why the fuck is that?
As I come up to the wide, grassy clearing, I spot her. She’s sitting cross-legged, strumming her guitar and singing what I think is country… shit I would never, ever listen to. But if I knew I’d always hear it from her voice I’d gladly listen to it every fucking day of my life.
Again I’m struck stupid by her beauty. Long, red hair cascades down her back in loose waves and the sight makes my fingers twitch, craving to know if it feels as soft as it looks. Instead of the usual sundresses I have been seeing her in, she’s wearing a white sleeveless top that hangs loosely off her small body and a pair of jean shorts. My eyes travel down her long, lean, bare legs and collide with a pair of cowgirl boots.
The way the sun has started to set – it casts a glow on her that doesn’t make her look real. It makes her look like something that people try to fill your head with, but I know is bullshit, a fucking angel. But if I did believe in angels, I’d swear this chick was one. Her entire persona screams innocence.
Three nights ago I left camp and went for a walk, needing to be alone. What was supposed to be a quick twenty-four hour mission has already turned into five days, and it seems it could be another week. I don’t mind being gone on missions, the longer the better. It’s not like I have anyone waiting for me back home. But since I’m always with a team, being around people constantly can make me agitated, and I need time to myself. Even if some of those guys are like brothers to me.
On that walk, only a few short minutes from base, a sweet, soft laugh had caught my attention. Following the sound, I came up to this clearing and found her with a bunch of Iraqi kids. She was chasing after them while playing some game. The moment my gaze landed on her something happened inside my chest, something that I haven’t felt in years and I have no idea why. Sure she’s beautiful, but I’ve seen lots of beautiful women. Hell, I’ve fucked most of them too. Yet something about this chick had me staying in the trees, out of sight, and watching her until she left. She was all I thought about that entire night and the next day. Which really pissed me off.
So the next night I came back, hoping to catch another glimpse of her, wanting to reassure myself that I was being a fucking idiot and that she was not what I made her out to be. Instead of getting the reassurance I had wanted, that same feeling came back, except this time it was even more powerful, because she had a guitar and was singing. Her voice had rooted me to my spot, and had my breath stalling in my lungs. If it were possible it would have knocked me on my ass. I swear I have never heard anything like it before.
That night I sat for two hours and listened to her sing shit that I would never normally listen to. I felt like a fucking pervert, staying out of sight and spying on her, but there was no way I was getting any closer to her. I’m still trying to figure out how, after ten years of being completely numb, some beautiful, redheaded country girl evokes something in my chest that no one ever has. It’s far from warmth because I’m incapable of feeling that, but it’s still something.
