Taming Rafe Animals MC book 7

Chapter Twelve.

He sat behind the overturned car listening to the sound of his men screaming in pain and the gunshots, his ears still ringing and head pounding. Chloe hadn't come back and his anxiety mounted, was she hurt laying the street?

With a wince, he tried to push to his feet but everything spun and he was forced back to his knees, his stomach turning as he threw up his lunch.

The pain of wretching making his head pound until his vision began to fade in and out and his entire body felt as if it were on fire.

He felt his body turning on him, begging him to give up and collapse into the dirt and sand but he fought the pressure down.

"Come on!" Chloe was suddenly there at his side.

"Chloe!" He clung to her more from relief that she was alive than a need for support.

"We have to move!" She yelled over the sound of the bombs, the guns and the helicopters nearby.

She pulled him to his unsteady feet and he did his best to help, trying to shield her small body with what was left of his own as they stumbled onto the street together.

"You shouldn't have come back!" He yelled.

"I won't leave you behind!" She called back.

Finally, he saw the helicopter waiting for them, hovering just a few inches above the ground and only a few yards away.

"We can make it!" She insisted.

A split second later she was gone, her body violently jerking away from his and both of them collapsing to the ground. Her blood soaking his face and clothes as she fell beside him, lifeless.

"Chloe!"

Ignoring the gunshots peppering the ground around them he pulled his body on top of her, turning her face towards his. The left side of her head was gone and her face was covered in blood, her brown eyes staring lifelessly up at him, her blonde hair matted with blood and who knew what else.

"No, no, Chloe, Baby, come on...don't do this. Please, please, don't do this to me!" He began to cry.

His men were there or what was left of them pulling him to his feet even as he tried to fight them off.

"Sir! We have to go!" One yelled.

"No! no, I can't."

"Get him to the chopper!" his sergeant yelled and together his men dragged him to the waiting helicopter.

He was too weak to fight them and when they reached the chopper he succumbed to sleep.

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He woke up from a dead sleep, covered in sweat and sitting straight up. Sometimes his nightmares were so bad he could swear he could still hear the chopper blades, smell the gunpowder, taste the sand.

He glanced around the cabin, it was still dark outside and the cabin was still dark and he was on his small couch.

The bedroom door slowly opened a little bit of light spilling into the living room, timidly Tess crossed the floor stopping a few feet away.

"Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep." She said softly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright, I was awake anyway."

She eased onto the couch near his feet, looking at him with sympathy in her deep blue eyes. He couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at him so kindly and gently as she was.

"You can go back to bed," He said.

"Do you want to talk about it? about what happened to you?" She offered.

"You mean why I look like this?"

He was a little angry, but not surprised of course she wanted to know why he looked like he did. Everyone always wanted to know what happened to cause such horrible scars.

"No...I meant why you have such terrible nightmares," She said gently.

He watched her a second, could she really not care about his appearance? was it possible that she didn't find his looks off-putting and terrifying?

He reached out to gently brush the backs of his fingers against her soft cheek, she winced at first but didn't pull away.

"Are you afraid of me...or someone else?" He asked.

"I asked you first," She pointed out.

He smiled and then settled back against the cushions.

"Fair enough."