Stepping away, he moved out toward the gangplank without another word, the two men with guns following closely behind. “I’ll get you home,” he murmured, big hands cupping my face. The second the kiss ended however, it all came crashing back, a jumbled disaster that made my heart sick. For a moment, I lost myself in his strength, forgetting my surroundings and the stress of the last few days. The kiss was as strong and solid as I remembered. Then, without any warning, Jeremiah swept me into his arms and pulled my lips to his. “Yes,” I whispered, a queasy churning starting in my gut. “Are you really okay?”Ī lump formed in my throat at his simple question and the myriad complexities that came with it. He didn’t protest however as they removed the assault rifle and sidearm, then looked at me. One of the men tried to grab Jeremiah’s arm but the black-clad commando slipped easily from his grasp. Don’t take any shots at him, he holds grudges and doesn’t play fair when he gets payback.” “Strip him of his weapons and gear,” Lucas said, “then take him downstairs. There was a significant pause, then another, “Yes sir.” They leveled their guns at Jeremiah as Lucas spoke into the radio again. Figures appeared through the doorway, and I recognize Kolya and several others. I sighed loudly in relief, but neither man broke their stares. Seconds past, and I was ready to start wringing some necks myself when Jeremiah lifted a hand to his ear. Lucas seemed unfazed by the posturing, but a thick muscle in his cheek gave away his own tension. Jeremiah’s hands worked at his side, clenching and unclenching like he fantasized of wringing his brother’s neck. The two were standing nose to nose in a battle of wills.
“Give me another thirty seconds, and stay on them if they move.” Cursing, he released Lucas, lowering the gun, and immediately the gunrunner lifted the radio to his lips.
The big man looked at me, eyes blazing, then back at his brother who held up a hand showing four fingers. “I’m fine, Jeremiah,” I said, a little desperate. I stepped forward and grabbed Jeremiah’s elbow. “Why yes, that’s my name, and you know I don’t bluff. Threats like this tend to turn me into a rebel. “Ah.” Lucas glanced at the gun shoved in his face. “My men however,” Lucas continued quickly, grunting at the effort of speaking with a compressed rib cage, “have a rocket propelled grenade aimed at your ship and if I don’t call them off in ten seconds they shoot.” He held up a radio in one hand. I couldn’t even call what he did grappling like magic, he tore the gun from Lucas’ hand, slammed the man against the opposite wall and turned the gun on him. Jeremiah stepped forward the moment the gun moved toward the ceiling. “However, unlike my brother,” Lucas continued, lifting the gun to his shoulder, “I won’t actually shoot family.” “She said ‘please’,” he murmured conspiratorially, and for a moment I thought for sure he would tell Jeremiah about what had happened in that room only hours before. It disappeared almost immediately, hidden by that manic smile as if it never existed. Jeremiah glanced back at me, and missed the brief disappointment that flashed across his scarred brother’s face. His response annoyed me, but I persisted. Jeremiah however shifted to keep himself between myself and the gun, effectively blocking my path. “For me,” I blurted out, trying to move around to the front. “Oh yes, I remember! You said I had to give you a good reason why not to kill me.” Lucas cleared his throat dramatically, the gun not wavering a bit. Didn’t you have the gun pointed at me, little brother?”
“The last time we were in this exact same predicament, our positions were reversed. The grin on his face was stretched almost garishly wide, teeth shining white in the dim light, as he stared at his larger brother. Jeremiah glared at the smiling Lucas, but the gunrunner didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
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