Bound to Break: Men of Honor, Book 6 (15 page)

When Rex finally lay down next to him, he threw a leg over Sawyer possessively.

“Thank you,” he told Sawyer.

“Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

“You really don’t know how much I get out of doing that? No, you don’t. I forgot it myself for a really long time. I put that part of myself away with Josh and that was okay then. But I did miss it. And I realize how much I need it.”

“Why did you put it away with Josh?”

“I didn’t think we needed it. But that’s not really the point. Sometimes it’s not about needing as much as it is about want. And sometimes it’s both.”

Sawyer smiled, still feeling like he was floating. “Is it selfish of me to admit I like having a part of you that you didn’t share with him?”

“I’d imagine I’d feel the same way.” Rex stroked his hair. “You’re still in sub-space.”

“I like it here.”

“I like bringing you here. Look how still you are.”

He was—still and relaxed, and for the first time in months, years maybe, his mind was clear. “I think this needs to become a part of our repertoire.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind it.” Rex smiled. “This trust is the next step. I know you trust me with your life but do you trust me to take control of your emotions? Because that’s a whole new level of trust.”

“Did I pass the test?”

“I don’t test you, baby. I make sure you love what I do to you. For you. And I think it’s apparent that you loved this.”

“I love you, Rex.”

“I never get tired of hearing you say that.” Rex looked so serious. “I fucking love you, Sawyer. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“I’m sorry that things with Josh—Lucky—have been so difficult.”

Rex’s expression darkened. “I think I really fucked up with him. I went into one of his therapy sessions and he was asking me questions. And I went to look for the scar on his leg, because the infection I saw was really bad. It would’ve left one. And there was nothing. No scars on his legs. And I’m guessing if I’m misremembering where the infection was, if there were scars on other parts of his body from an infection, he would’ve shown me.”

“So what are you thinking? You don’t think he agreed to help them in exchange for your lives?”

“Two days after he was killed, we were released.”

“You weren’t rescued?”

“No. That never made any goddamned sense to any of us.”

“Okay, so the infection was a ruse,” Sawyer said. “Why go to all that trouble? And why would you think there would be a scar?”

“There were pictures. The CIA found the ones we were shown in captivity. They had pictures of a deep infection. You could see bone.”

Sawyer stared. “You’re really beginning to suspect him.”

“I don’t want to. But we went through hell.”

“And you told him that the Josh you knew never would’ve broken.”

Rex hung his head. “What if I was wrong, Sawyer? What if…”

“He doesn’t remember. I don’t care how good a liar someone is. You can’t fake that. He would’ve slipped by now.”

“I hope you’re right.” Rex sighed. “It’s good that you brought Clint in when you were followed, because that led to finding the bugs. I’m glad you stayed with them.”

“After that, there were no more followings, no more bugs planted.”

“That doesn’t mean the danger’s not there.” Rex shook his head. “I thought this was over, but it’s so far from that. I might still be in danger. I might’ve put you in danger. I feel like shit that he was left behind. I keep thinking, were there any clues that he was still alive? Did they drug us to make us believe we saw his body being put into the fire? And even though I know there wasn’t anything we could’ve done…seeing him not even remember his own age is tough.”

“How is he, though?”

“He’s better than I am about it. He’s frustrated, sure. But I think…” Rex paused. “I think he’s actually all right. And that’s what’s getting me through all of it. Because hell, if he doesn’t have to have the nightmares, why would I wish that on him? Or on anyone.”

Sawyer ran a hand down Rex’s biceps, feeling the strong muscle. Tried to imagine how bad it was. He’d only been trapped for twenty-four hours and that had felt like a lifetime. And no one had been beating him or Jace during that time.

“I’m not going to be able to stop pushing you on the field. You know that,” Rex said.

Sawyer did. Rex didn’t yell like that on missions. Once they were in it, they were a well-oiled machine. But before, Rex would do everything in his power to make sure no one made a mistake that would get them killed or captured. “What was the mistake?” he asked now and Rex furrowed his brow. “On that mission—what was the mistake?”

He waited for Rex to get angry, to walk out, and Sawyer wondered if he’d ruined whatever ground they’d made up tonight.

“We knew we might get captured and we went in anyway. We figured we had a better shot of getting in and out of there than anyone else. And we couldn’t stand to think that they had agents in captivity.”

Rex drew a deep breath after he spoke, like it was maybe the first time he’d admitted it to anyone out loud.

“I don’t consider that a mistake.”

Rex glanced at him. “Hubris.”

“Heroism.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better.”

“If you had it to do all over again, you wouldn’t change anything. That much I know.”

“Fuck you,” Rex said, but it was with a smile. “Knew there was a price for letting you in.”

“If I can’t get away with bullshitting myself, neither can you.”

“I’m done with bullshitting myself. Lucky doesn’t remember me. And I’m looking back and I’m wondering if we ever knew each other. And I don’t want to make that mistake with you. I want you to know me. I’m tired of holding back. Josh’s return has to mean something, and I want it to mean that I’m going to stop holding back.”

And that meant Sawyer would have to stop doing so as well. As he made that silent deal with himself to do so, he felt Rex’s hand snake around his waist to pull him even closer.

Chapter Fifteen

Lucky had been through almost three months of near solitary confinement, endless sessions with Cooper, meetings with top naval brass, including the admiral who’d been in charge of his SEAL team. Admiral Bobs looked visibly shaken after seeing Lucky, and he’d been kinder than Lucky had braced himself for.

And finally—finally—he was told he’d be allowed out of the facility. But he wasn’t able to leave the general vicinity, and, after much discussion he hadn’t been privy to, he’d been placed under surveillance in an apartment that was close to, but not on, base.

He knew why—they didn’t want him anyplace he could do damage to a military facility—but he didn’t care. He was free. One step closer to being out of this mess.

There were lawyers involved too, JAGs assigned to him. Both were sympathetic to his plight, and especially so after Cooper’s evals came through.

There were no memories. The hypnosis trials had been complete failures. The sodium pentothal experiments had failed four times, and they’d only done that many because Lucky had insisted on it.

“They didn’t fail, Lucky. They just showcased the fact that you really don’t remember,” Cooper told him now.

Lucky was due to be moved into his new apartment that afternoon. It was furnished, which was good since all he had was the small bag he’d brought from the Bain house. It was at his feet, the first time he’d seen it since he’d gotten here.

He imagined how carefully it had been gone over. Probably torn apart, X-rayed, sniffed by dogs and anything else they could think of doing.

“Hello, you there?” Cooper was waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, yeah. Just thinking about the next steps.”

“Let’s focus back on you. You like to think ahead because it avoids focusing on you.”

He hated it that Cooper knew that but supposed most people who dealt with him did. “Fine. I’ve got a couple of hours to kill.”

Cooper shook his head. “Do you find Rex handsome?”

He nodded, like it didn’t matter. But it did. Because Rex was hot and Lucky liked sex. Right now, that’s all it was for Lucky—a could-be physical attraction that didn’t get off the ground because, one, Rex had been the one to tell him who and what he was, and two, because Rex was happily with someone else. And Lucky wasn’t the type of guy to fuck with someone he found attractive if they were in a relationship.

And when he told Cooper all of this, let it spill out since that’s what he was supposed to do here, Cooper asked, “What scares you most about your past with Rex?”

Because Rex was all tied up in the horrific torture he’d faced. He wasn’t the same man—neither was Rex. And Rex had moved on. Completely, it seemed.

Suppose I go back to that place and realize I still love him? And it’s too late?

Fuck, he didn’t want to have to deal with another disappointment. Now, with just a strong physical attraction and no knowledge of what had actually happened between them, it was so much easier.

Cooper was still watching him, waiting for the answer to his question.

“Everything,” he said honestly. Cooper waited a beat and then bent to write something in the little notebook.

One day, Lucky was getting a look at the damned thing. Could only imagine the things Cooper was saying.

“You have another lie detector test. Then back to me, and then you can head down the block to your new place. You’ve got to check in with me twice a day, outside of our daily meetings.”

“Still daily, huh?”

“For now. For your own good, Lucky.”

Lucky nodded. Left his bag and went down the hall, where he sat down in the familiar room to take what must’ve been his hundredth lie detector test since he’d arrived in Virginia. The man who administered the test placed the electrodes on Lucky while he made that kind of calming, I’m-your-friend small talk meant to make the innocent calm and the guilty nervous as hell.

Lucky just felt impatient. It didn’t matter what questions they asked him, because the answers would always be the same.

The problem with these tests were that they were yes-or-no based. And Lucky couldn’t answer some of the questions with either yes or no, because he didn’t remember enough. He guessed the point was to throw questions at him like so many tennis balls across the net until he either fumbled or hit one they hadn’t thought he’d be able to.

So far, that hadn’t happened. What it did prove, he hoped, was that he was telling the truth about how he felt about Emme and the Bains.

He’d told Cooper he’d slept with Dash. He told him that he knew Dash was involved in this but didn’t know how—but that he knew he wasn’t Navy.

He told Cooper that he’d developed feelings for the man, faster than he’d thought possible. Because fuck it, he was going to be as honest as he could be. If it got Dash in trouble, that wasn’t his problem.

He thought about his months here. He’d worked out. Read. Sat around. Saw various doctors. Saw more pictures of his brain than he’d ever wanted to.

Since he wasn’t lying, he guessed all of this was easier. And everyone became nicer to him the more time that went by.

“We’re going to try something different,” Cooper told him when he walked back in after the test.

“We’re going out to lunch?”

Cooper gave a sardonic grin as he popped a CD into his computer. “You passed the test, by the way. Again.”

“Great. Is porn my reward?”

“You really are a fucking smartass,” Cooper told him, pointed to the computer. Turned out he was playing a DVD but it wasn’t porn.

It was him. Well, Josh, sitting at a table very much like the one Lucky had just left, with those familiar electrodes strapped to him.

“It’s a video of you taking a lie detector test. Maybe two years before you were captured,” Cooper clarified for him.

Lucky wondered why he’d waited to do this until now, but he guessed they wanted the element of surprise. And so he watched himself—the man he used to be—being prepped to take a lie detector test on the screen. The man he saw was a younger, more relaxed version of himself. His hair was longer and he had a beard.

“That was allowed,” Cooper told him. “You were a longhair. It was encouraged.”

He ran his hand through his hair now, then stopped because Josh was doing the exact same thing on the screen.

It was weird watching you mirror you, when you had no memory of any of it.

“It’s like watching a stranger,” he whispered, more to himself than to Cooper.

The questions started off relatively simple. The man giving the test explained to Josh that they always started out with easy yes-or-no questions so they had a baseline for how the person reacted during a truth so they could easily spot a lie. It was the exact speech the man administering Lucky’s tests had said to him every time.

“Josh, is your first name Josiah?”

“No.”

“He’s lying and the test isn’t registering,” Lucky said.

“You’re lying,” Cooper corrected.