Brooke Roberts

I run to my room, splash some water on my face, and stop in front of the wardrobe. What kind of outfit do you wear for a chase? I feel the seconds slipping past me like I’m the narrowest part of an hourglass. I opt for comfort and mobility, choosing black leggings and a matching T-shirt. It’s definitely best not to be an easy target. I tie my hair into a tight ponytail — the last thing I need is it falling into my face.

I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to convince Kyle to let me join them. Every time before, I didn’t even ask — I just sat on the stairs by the door, waiting and worrying. The dogs, of course, joined me in the vigil. It was a different kind of torture; my mind wouldn’t give me a moment’s rest. I lost count of how many times I imagined different deaths for the men I love.

But after my breakdown this afternoon, and Seth’s confessions — which I’m still trying to process — I can’t even consider staying behind this time. As soon as I heard Kyle say they had been found, a chill spread through my body, an urgency and need to be with the trio. I know I’m not trained and I won’t even try to get in their way. I just want to make sure they’ll be okay. I have no illusions about my abilities; I’m not even good enough to be backup. So I didn’t hesitate to accept the conditions.

"Baby girl," Raffi calls from the doorway, and I turn to him. His hair is tied back like mine. He’s wearing thick fabric pants with pockets at the thighs and a T-shirt that hugs his muscles but still seems to give him freedom to move. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, walking into my room and approaching me.

"I am. I promise I won’t get in the way."

He gently cups my face with one hand, tilting it up so I look at him.

"Of course we’re worried about your safety, but it’s more than that, Brooke. You’re still recovering from what happened, and I’m afraid coming with us will only make things worse." The concern in his expression and tone is unmistakable.

"I feel like I need to go, Raffi. I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe it’s so I can finally put an end to everything that happened. I’m not sure," I say.

"Just wanted to check. But if you’re sure, I won’t try to talk you out of it." He sighs and rests his forehead against mine, his light blue eyes looking so deeply into mine I feel like he’s seeing my soul. "I can’t lose you, Brooke."

"The feeling is mutual, big guy." I close the distance between our mouths, and the hand he had on my chin slides to the back of my neck, gripping firmly as he parts my lips with his tongue. I notice he’s holding something when his other hand grips my waist, pulling me flush against him, but I can’t identify the object. The kiss is full of need, urgency, and desire — awakening my senses and consuming me so completely that for a few seconds, all I can focus on is Rafael and the firmness of his body pressed to mine.

The kiss ends as quickly as it started, and he pulls away. My gaze drops to his hand and I see a harness.

"Is that for me?" I ask, pointing to his hand.

"Yes," he says, handing me the piece that looks like a pair of shorts with several missing parts. "Since you’re coming in, you’re not coming in unarmed."

Raffi watches me closely as I put on the harness, and when I straighten up, his eyes trail over my entire body.

"See something you like?" I ask after a few seconds.

"Dios mío. Just when I think you can’t get any hotter, you prove me wrong." He grabs the two side straps, one on each thigh, and pulls me toward him, my body pressing into his, feeling every inch of him — including his cock, which starts to harden against my stomach.

"BROOKE! RAFFI! WE NEED TO GO!" Kyle shouts.

Rafael exhales, and I swear it sounds like a growl.

"Let’s end the miserable existence of those three hijos de puta and get back home so I can show you exactly how much I liked seeing you dressed like this, baby girl," he says, and I feel my core pulse in response to his words and the promise in his voice. I swear no one else has the power to turn any situation into something sensual. Rafael Martinez oozes sex, even when he’s talking about hunting down the people responsible for my kidnapping.

***

When we join Kyle in the entrance hall, I feel his gaze linger on my thighs for a moment, and the blond licks his lips and nods approvingly.
"Now I get the reason for the delay," he murmurs.
Seth has a similar reaction when I reach the garage, where he was finishing loading the car. I’ll have to find a way to incorporate harnesses into my wardrobe, I think with a smile before taking my place in the back seat.

The ride to the airstrip is almost entirely silent. The GPS is the only one speaking, giving directions. The tension seems to grow with each kilometer, the guys' expressions becoming more serious. They don’t speak, but they exchange looks and nods, as if communicating through silent understanding. During the decoration ceremony after they left the Marines, I heard many people—colleagues and superiors—talk about how, during missions, the three of them functioned as one. How they always seemed to know what the other was doing or thinking, moving with an instinct that made them unstoppable and lethal. When they rescued me, I’d seen traces of that, but looking at them now, I understood exactly what had been said that day.
Fear and insecurity begin to gnaw at me. I shouldn’t be here... what if something bad happens precisely because I insisted on coming? No. I can’t listen to those doubts, I’m already here and I can’t let myself be intimidated. I focus on remembering all my shooting and self-defense lessons. I’m not defenseless.

"We’re here," Kyle announces, stopping the car next to a silver Jeep. On the other side, a cargo helicopter just like the ones I’ve always seen in movies, and coming out of it is a red-haired woman wearing pants similar to the guys’ and a gray t-shirt. She smiles and waves as soon as we get out of the car.

She greets Raffi first, hugging him and kissing his cheek. Seth is next, and she squeezes his shoulder before turning to Kyle, broadening her smile and hugging him. With each greeting, I feel an overwhelming discomfort at the apparent intimacy they share. The guys have always drawn attention, and that never bothered me before. But now one single thought echoes in my head: Mine.

"And you must be the famous Brooke," she addresses me, still smiling. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to meet you. These three always talk about you."
"Not always," Raffi protests, and she glances at him, raising an eyebrow.
"Save the lies for people who don’t know you, Martinez," the redhead scolds and turns back to me. "I’m Paige," she introduces.
"Brooke." I stretch out my hand and she nods, pulling me into a quick hug.
"What are you all waiting for?" Paige turns to the guys, keeping one arm casually over my shoulders. "Load the chopper, boys. I thought time was of the essence."
"I could help them, you know? But what’s the point of all those muscles?" she says in a conspiratorial tone and winks. "Come on, let me show you the cockpit! Ever been on a helicopter before?"
"No, never. I always fly economy," I reply, laughing, the discomfort I’d felt earlier dissipating thanks to her cheerful demeanor.

She gestures for me to sit in the co-pilot’s seat and shows me everything, explaining with terms I forget the moment I hear them.
"You can put on the seatbelt and headphones."
I look at her, confused.
"Wouldn’t it be better if I sat in the back?" I ask.
"If you prefer, you can. But up here is more comfortable and you’ll get to enjoy the view," Paige answers before glancing toward the guys. Each carries a gym-style duffel bag slung across their chest. I can’t take my eyes off them—seeing them dressed for combat, with those serious, determined expressions, makes my blood rush and my stomach clench. Holy shit, they are so hot!
"I can’t guarantee the view from up there will top what you’re drooling over now, but it’s a unique experience."

I feel my cheeks flush and turn to the redhead, who laughs.
"Hey, I get it." I raise an eyebrow. "Don’t worry, I’m not interested in any of them."
"Why?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
"Because they’re like the brothers I never had. They’ve always supported and protected me," the redhead answers sincerely and steps out of the helicopter.

I watch the four of them talk briefly and then the guys climb into the back. Kyle approaches the cockpit.
"All good, Sunshine?" I nod, and he leans in to fasten my seatbelt, checking if it’s tight enough.
"Put on the headphones, the cabin gets really loud and the only way to muffle it is with those." He winks and gives me a quick kiss before leaving.

I turn to watch him sit between Raffi and Seth, both already buckled in with their headphones on. Paige gets in, fastens her belt, and starts fiddling with the controls with precision and speed. She puts on her own headphones and lowers the mic.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, I’m your pilot, Paige O’Leary. The weather forecast says the skies will remain clear until we land in Mexico. However, I was informed a storm is approaching the capital and it’s gonna rain bullets on anyone who crosses Hades’ path."

I hear the three men’s laughter in my ears, and it must be one of my favorite sounds in the world.

We take off, and Paige was right—the view is incredible. Flying in a helicopter is very different from a plane. But she guides us smoothly through the sky, calming the knot of nerves that had formed in my stomach during takeoff.
"Have they ever told you how I saved their lives?" the pilot asks.
"That’s not exactly how it went," Kyle complains.
"They don’t usually tell me anything about the missions," I reply, my mind drifting back to the bedroom with Seth. It was just hours ago, but it already feels like a different life.
"Oh no, I wish it had been on a mission—it would’ve been less embarrassing. I’m talking about the day these three," she points her thumb over her shoulder behind her, "were late for a presentation to the commander because they spent the whole night in a poker tournament with the SEALs and overslept."
"Totally worth it, we cleaned them out," Raffi responds.
"And proved that MARSOC is the best in every arena," Kyle adds.
"Yeah, and we used the money for a good cause. Remember when you got that new surfboard, Brooke?" Seth asks.
"I do," I reply after a moment, the memory surfacing from one of the guys’ vacations when they took me to pick out a new board.
"Courtesy of the Navy SEALs."

For the rest of the flight, they trade funny stories. My boyfriends try to embarrass Paige, but she always has something worse to say about them. I realize that my initial discomfort with the pilot is completely gone, thanks to the obvious camaraderie she shares with the guys and, of course, the friendly way she treated me from the first second.

The helicopter begins to descend, and it’s like the floor disappears from under me. All the fun I’d been feeling is replaced by the sensation that someone is sitting on my chest, making it hard to breathe. My mouth goes dry and I close my eyes to focus on the air going in and out.
This isn’t a joyride.

I wipe my palms on my pants and only unbuckle the seatbelt when Paige shuts down the aircraft, landing so smoothly I didn’t even feel it. Seth opens my door before I get the chance.
"We have to go, Bee. How are you feeling?"
"Nervous," I show him my hands and they’re still steady, no tremor. "But I’m ready."
"Good." He offers his hand to help me down.

Kyle waits with a vest in his hands. All three of them are already wearing theirs.
"You remember your promise?" he asks as I take the gear and start putting it on, Raffi stepping in to help adjust the straps.
"You’ll stay behind us, watch our six, and if one of us says..."
"Run, I run. I remember," I cut him off.

"Here," Raffi hands me two pistols and I recognize the model—it’s the same one I used during our shooting practice. The first thing I do is check the mag in each one and the safety.
"Good to see you still remember." He grabs two extra mags and tucks them into the side pockets of my vest. The pistols fit perfectly into the harness he’d given me before we left the house.