Page 27 of Tango (Hunt Brothers Search & Rescue #4)

Alice

I was never one for camping outdoors. In a cabin with a locked door and running water? Sure. Sign me up. But being outside always felt like it would leave me feeling too exposed. Like anyone could come up from behind me and I wouldn’t even know they were coming.

However, being out here with Tucker, I can honestly say I feel relatively safe. He’s constantly watching, staring off into the distance as though waiting for the cavalry to come bursting through, weapons drawn, cuffs out.

“Why didn’t you bring Tango?” I ask curiously. Since they’re working dogs, I was surprised when he left him behind.

“I don’t know what we’re going to be dealing with. There are certain missions that are best if he sits out.”

“Like breaking into Web Safe?”

He grunts but doesn’t verbally respond. In fact, he’s barely said two words to me since announcing that he plans to break into Web Safe. Which, I feel I should remind him, is a suicide mission. I just don’t see how we walk in there and still live to walk back out.

Because I can’t stand the silence, I clear my throat. “Did you do a lot of camping as a kid?”

“My dad thought it was important to teach us how to survive off the land. We’d go out on a Friday with nothing but the clothes on our backs and a pocketknife.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Served us well when we joined the military.”

“That’s impressive.”

“It’s survival,” he replies. “Though at twelve, I admit I thought it was a waste of my time.”

I laugh. “I can imagine that.” Tipping my face up toward the sky, I look at the stars.

They’re so bright out here, with no city lights to drown them out.

The air is warm around us, almost like a blanket, so I lie back in the grass.

To my left, Jax continues to graze happily, his saddle and bridle left near a tree.

Now he has a halter on, its lead rope tethered gently around a fence post near where we’re sitting.

“How about you?” He takes a seat beside me. In the fray of our escape, I gave up being mad about his outburst. Whatever he’s dealing with—it’s his burden to carry. And I know an awful lot about not wanting to share one’s pain with the world.

“Aside from the cabin you found me in? Nah. We never really camped. I did sleep outside a time or two when I was in between foster homes though.”

“That must have been tough.”

“It wasn’t great,” I admit. “But I learned to be resilient.”

“Positive spin on a negative situation.”

“That’s all we can do, right? Look for the light amidst the dark? I’m trying to remind myself of that.”

He shifts his gaze away from me and starts toying with a small stick he picked up off the ground in front of him. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

“Tucker—”

“No,” he interrupts. “There’s no excuse; it wasn’t right. I’m just—I’m struggling, Alice. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Struggling with what?”

He takes a deep breath then turns to me, eyes so bright they almost seem to illuminate from within. “You.”

“Me?” Guilt slams into me hard and fast. I shouldn’t have involved him and his family.

Now he’s out here on the run with me, and he’s going to end up just like Logan and Ramiro.

“I’m sorry, Tucker. I know this is a lot.

Asking you to help with this. I ripped you away from your family—” I’m silenced when he cups my face and pulls me in to press his lips to mine.

I stiffen for a moment, unsure what to do, but a heartbeat later, every single muscle in my body turns liquid, and I sink into him.

As his lips move against mine, my heart hammers behind my ribs.

I grip his strong shoulders, needing something to hold onto or risk losing myself completely.

The kiss is tender, soft, a meeting of lips in a gentle whisper, but it’s so loud. I’m deafened by the beating of my own heart.

Tucker pulls away, though his hand remains on my face.

“Oh,” I whisper.

His blue gaze searches mine. Is he looking for anger? Frustration over the kiss? Because he’ll find nothing but desire to do it again.

Because I need him to know that, I grip the front of his shirt and pull him in again. He buries his hand in my hair, and the kiss-induced buzzing in my head takes away all rational thought over why this is probably a bad idea.

He pulls away again. “We need to stop. I need to breathe.” He pushes up and steps away from me, hands on his hips. “I’m sorry, I?—”

“I kissed you too, Mr. Hunt.” I push to my feet too. “So I’m what’s been bothering you? Because you’re attracted to me, but I’m a client? Do you guys have rules or something?” I think of the code Nova and Kennedy talked about. Is this part of it? But then, how did they end up with their husbands?

He’s quiet, his back turned toward me.

“Tucker?”

“I made a promise to myself a long time ago.” He turns to face me, eyes closed. It’s a few moments before he opens them.

“What kind of promise?”

Tucker crosses his muscled arms, and I can see that he’s battling with whether or not to be honest. Should he trust and tell me? Or is he unwilling to be vulnerable?

“You don’t have to tell me.”

But he’s already lost to his past. I can see it in his distant gaze.

“I’ll never forget the day a chaplain showed up at my parents’ house.

I could hear my mom’s scream from the barn.

” He shakes his head. “Bradyn, Elliot, and Riley were with me too, and we all sprinted toward the house. The black SUV had government plates, and I just knew what they were there to say.” He takes a deep breath, and I remain quiet.

“They told me Dylan was dead. That my twin brother was killed in action, and they didn’t even have a body we could bury. ” A tear slips down his cheek.

I remain rooted to the spot despite my desire to run toward him. But I sense that any interference from me will shut this conversation down before he gets whatever it is off his chest.

“I told them they were wrong. My gut told me that Dylan was still alive. I just knew it. They insisted I was wrong. That I would come to terms with it and we needed to make arrangements for a funeral.” He shakes his head again.

“My parents started coming to terms with it, but I never did. My house wasn’t built at the time, so I was sharing an apartment with Riley in town.

I remember going home and spending two straight days online, searching through databases I wasn’t supposed to be in—looking for anything to prove I was right. ”

“And you found something.”

He nods. “I managed to find the orders he was given, which gave me his location. I hacked satellites and got footage of him being arrested and taken into a gated compound guarded by a militia in South America.”

“What happened then?”

“I told Riley, Elliot, and Bradyn. Then, together, we told our parents that we were going to bring Dylan home. Dead or alive, he was coming home.” Tucker wipes the tears from his cheeks.

“That was the first mission Hunt Brothers Search and Rescue went on, and it was the only mission Lani and our father ever took with us.”

“They went?”

He nods. “Lani was in med school, but we knew that Dylan would likely be injured, and we wanted a medic on sight. My dad insisted on coming too and hired a private plane to take us there.”

“Jesper?” I met the former fighter pilot when he flew us to and from California. Super interesting guy and beyond loyal to the Hunts.

He shakes his head. “Jesper came later. This guy went to our church and was a member of my dad’s men’s ministry. He passed away suddenly about a year after we brought Dylan home.”

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t directly respond to me, just continues staring out into the trees.

“What happened when you got there?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.

“We rented a house on a private beach, one that could be easily protected should anything happen. Then my brothers and I set out, fully geared up and ready for war.”

Which they found , I think to myself. That is, if Tucker’s expression is telling me anything.

“Bradyn and Elliot took the front while Riley and I came around the back. By the time we’d cut through the chain-link fence and reached the back door of the compound, chaos had already begun.

Alarms were going off; armed soldiers were running through the halls, prepping for a fight.

We thought they’d seen us, but then—” He trails off.

“We reached the lowest level of the compound just as two men hauled a third out of a hole in the ground.” His expression is furious now, the tears streaming down his cheeks in rapid succession.

“It was literally a gaping hole. Dark, damp—the man was so skinny I could see his ribs, and what I could see of his skin that wasn’t covered in blood and bruises was so pale it looked thin as paper.

” Tucker’s voice breaks. “They threw the man to the ground—he was cuffed—but when he came up, there was a rusty knife in his hand. He charged, and one of the men fired.” Tucker pauses.

“I’ll never forget that moment. Everything slowed down.

Riley and I sprinted forward just as Dylan fell backward into that hole. ”

“Oh, Tucker—” I can’t even begin to process the emotions burning through me right now. The pain he must have felt in that moment, watching his brother they’d come all that way to rescue possibly dying right in front of him.

“As soon as the two soldiers were no longer a threat,” he growls out, “Riley and I descended into that pit. There were wooden stairs leading down, and Dylan was at the bottom. Dead bodies lined the sides, bodies of the fellow soldiers he’d served with.

Men he’d loved as brothers, whom he’d been forced to watch decompose in the months he was held there.

He was bleeding out on that floor, but when he saw us, he was so panicked that he charged at Riley, slicing out with the blade and nearly taking his hand off. We had to pin him to the ground and?—”