“We’ll take care of her.”
“We will.” Hannah wiped away her tears, as if steeling herself for what came next, and took several steadying breaths. “And we’ll start by keeping the General from hurting anyone else. Any updates?”
“Our forward observers report zero movement. The General has his men buttoned up inside that hotel.”
“What will he do next?”
“That was a soft attack to open us up for a ground assault or air raid. He should have sent in ground troops while we were shell-shocked from the rockets. But he didn’t.”
“Why?”
Liam hated admitting his uncertainty. It felt like weakness. “I don’t know.”
“Because of Charlotte?”
He shook his head, weary and frustrated, plagued with doubt and foreboding. “Could be. He’s waiting for something. Or toying with us. Or both. I don’t like it.”
“What about Hamilton? Could he help?”
“The radios are broken. It’s dangerous to travel anywhere outside the perimeter. And he only has thirty men. Besides, he’s under strict orders not to get involved in local disputes.”
“You don’t think he’d bend those orders for us?”
“He’s a good man, but he’s a rule follower. The military demands unconditional obedience to the chain of command for a reason.”
Hannah chewed on her lower lip. “It seems worth it to try.”
“Maybe,” Liam allowed. “We can send a scout tomorrow.”
His back spasmed. He winced, careful not to move so he wouldn’t awaken Charlotte.
Hannah noticed. She pulled away and sat up. “Your back.”
“I’m fine.”
“I can tell it’s hurting you.”
He shot her a disgruntled look, but it was true. There was no use attempting to hide it. She always noticed.
“You need a massage.”
“I’m fine,” he tried again, but it was useless.
When Hannah made up her mind, there was no changing it. Truth was, he wanted her hands kneading the pain from his aching muscles. Her warmth, her closeness, her touch. He wanted her in his arms again.
“I’ll be right back.” She rose and picked up Charlotte, crooning into her seashell-shaped ear so she didn’t awaken, and carried her into the bedroom.
Ghost lifted his head and tracked her every move with his eyes, his tail thumping.
Liam rechecked the house. Ghost leapt to his feet and followed him. Liam patted his head.
All windows and doors were secured and locked. He peered through the kitchen window. Streams of water streaked the glass like tears, distorting his reflected features.
The trees thrashed outside the house. Branches creaked and snapped.
Guards were stationed at the head of Tanglewood Drive. Mobile patrols were on alert. More sentries manned the sniper nests and fighting stations along the perimeter.
The forward observers kept a constant watch, ready to report any suspicious activity at a moment’s notice. Liam couldn’t do anything more that wasn’t already done.
He waited for Hannah.
49
Liam
Day One Hundred and Fourteen
Hannah perched on the sofa beside him. An expectant charge in the air, like an electric current between them. She offered him a shy smile. “I guess we’re alone.”
“I guess we are,” he said, his voice suddenly husky.
Hannah leaned in and grazed his mouth with her lips.
His heart rate quickened. Electricity zapped through his entire body.
He kissed her back, fully and deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close. She put her hands on either side of his head and stroked his scalp.
He could have lost himself in this moment forever.
With a soft, satisfied smile, she sat back and eyed him. “Take off your shirt.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Is that a command?”
She blushed but didn’t drop her gaze. “Priorities, Liam Coleman. I’m supposed to nurse you back to health.”
“By all means.” Liam winced as he moved to remove his shirt. The gunshot wound was healing, the infection gone. It still hurt like a mother, though.
Hannah changed out the bandage for a fresh one, cleaned the wound, and applied tea tree oil as a topical antibiotic. Now that the infection was under control, they’d switched to natural remedies to save their remaining stock for serious cases.
From Molly’s stash of survival books, Hannah had learned about effective natural remedies used for thousands of years. She wrote it all down in her notebook and copied pertinent information for Evelyn and Lee.
“I can do that myself, you know.”
“Not as well as I can.”
From the floor, Ghost chuffed his agreement.
Liam rolled his eyes. “I see I’m outnumbered.”
“I think you’ll always be outnumbered.”
He grunted as Hannah completed her task and eased him onto his stomach on the sofa. Heat from the fireplace warmed his sore, exhausted muscles. The thrumming rain lulled him, weights pulling at his eyelids. He could have slept for a month.
He couldn’t rest, not truly, until he’d eliminated the threat of the General—and Poe.
Hannah scooted beside him and kneaded his shoulders. He relaxed into her. Her hands were strong and supple as she worked, even her injured hand as she eased his knotted muscles and tight discs. The pain receded.
Once Hannah had finished her ministrations, he rose and checked the house, unease crawling beneath his skin as he searched the darkened, rain-drenched street.
Nothing moved. No threats presented themselves.
When he returned, Hannah was standing beside the sofa, her hair down around her shoulders, eyes shining in the firelight.
She ducked her head shyly, glancing at him through her eyelashes. Sorrow in her face, and worry, but something else, a small thing flaring bright and fierce. Hope.
Longing filled him.
You had to seize the moment. You never knew when it would be the last time. To give a hug. To say what you needed to say.
He went to Hannah and took her in his arms. She pressed herself against him and lifted her face to his. He kissed her, hard and hungry.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.