Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

"I know you do, Buttercup," he said with a smile.

I lifted my head and looked up at him, warmth filling me now that I knew the meaning of my nickname. "Just don't get carried away," I warned teasingly.

He laughed. "Please. You're the real boss here. You think I don't know that?" He looked down at me tenderly. "I'd do anything for you, Grace. I'd slay a dragon for you," he said softly.

I blinked up at him, taking in the sincerity in his eyes, the beauty of his face, the tenderness of his expression. I leaned up and kissed his soft lips, sucking his bottom one into my mouth and nipping it with my teeth.

I grinned up at him and he pulled me in to his side again.

After a second, I leaned back and looked into his face, biting my lip. I needed to ask him about something. He had said a woman's name in his sleep this morning. I had woken up briefly, but then gone back to sleep when he was silent again. I wasn't upset, after all, he'd told me he hadn't been with anyone since me. But I was curious.

"What?" he asked softly.

"Carson," I paused, "who is Ara?"

**********

Carson



I froze and my heart picked up speed. "Where did you hear that name?" I whispered.

She leaned back a little more and looked at me, her brow furrowed, her large, blue eyes studying my face.

"From you. You said it in your sleep this morning," she said.

I closed my eyes for a couple beats. "I'm sorry. It's… it's not what you might think," I said, worried that she thought I was dreaming about a woman I had been involved with in some romantic way.

"It's okay. We've been apart a long time and–"

"No. I was telling you the truth when I said I haven't been with anyone else. Not in any way."

She studied me and nodded again, sitting up straight, but staying right next to me, our bodies touching. She brought the blanket over my lap too as she bent her legs so that they were under her on the couch.

I leaned back and ran my hand over my short hair.

I was silent for a minute, getting my thoughts straight as she waited me out. I was ready to tell her about this. If we were together now, then she needed to know. This was part of my life.

"Ara was a fourteen year old girl who was raped and beaten by a high value target we had been sent in to kill in Afghanistan. We found her, half-dead from her injuries, and we stayed with her as she died."

Grace brought her hand up to her mouth, her eyes filled with shock and sadness. She removed her hand and whispered, "We?"

I nodded, "Yeah, me and my unit. We had gone in on the mission and we were successful pretty immediately. But when we went in to the warehouse the target had been hiding in, we found some things we weren't expecting, including a whole room of women and girls in the most deplorable conditions you could imagine." I was silent for another minute, picturing opening that door, the smell hitting us immediately as we all recoiled and then shined our flashlights in–eyes wide and scared staring back at us. They hadn't given them access to toilets or water. They were being held like cattle, worse than cattle. When I pictured hell, I pictured that room.

"They were being trafficked. Girls as young as six were in that room, fated to become some sick fuck's sexual plaything."

Her eyes were huge in her face, tears welling over now as she stared at me silently.

"One of the girls, Ara, had seen a chance for escape when they threw some dinner in for them. The guards caught her and they raped her–raped her in any and every way they could. They hurt and degraded her unmercifully." My voice faded at the end as I swallowed down the lump that always formed when I thought of Ara. "They all took turns with her and then they beat her so severely that she was barely conscious. Of course, we didn't get this information until later, when our translator talked to some of the other women being held."

Tears were coursing down Grace's cheeks, and she grabbed my hand and held it to her heart as I continued to talk.

"After we killed them and found Ara, we carried her outside and we cleaned her wounds as best as we could with what we had. But the internal damage was too much… she needed a hospital and we had no way to get her to one. We gave her morphine and we stayed with her through the night, taking turns holding her hand and telling her stories–any story we could think of. As the sun started to rise, it was my turn to hold her hand and I told her about you, how I thought of you every morning when the sun came up in the sky. And I swear, she smiled at me, Grace. She looked right in my eyes, and she smiled. And then she was gone."

Grace choked out a small sob. "Oh, God," she breathed out.

I closed my eyes for a minute, recalling that morning, my heart breaking as I looked into Ara's eyes, the girl I didn't even know, as she slipped from this world.

Mia Sheridan's books