Without Wings Chapter Nine

Edward personally saw to the removal of Tito Gonzalez, ensuring he got on the agency helo sent to retrieve him. Despite wanting to believe James Holden would do the right thing, Edward didn't trust anyone from the CIA anymore. First Kiernan, who had of course died in the line of duty, and then James had given them every reason to question their motives. Their motto was cover your ass at all times, regardless of who they hurt in the process. The agency would supposedly keep Gonzalez at their cold site until further notice; according to Nigel, he was their guest even after they completed the mission.

Edward didn't feel sorry for him and hoped no one else did either. Tito fucked around and found out, and Edward was proud of Bella for holding her own against the fucker. Someone needed to take the trash out, and it might as well have been his wife since she was his primary target. The only downside was that once his dismissal was complete, the team was down to twelve members. The Cullens had done more with fewer people, but it wasn't ideal. 

As the team gathered in the living room to discuss the idea of bringing in fresh mercs, Dwayne said, “It’s inadvisable. We don't have time to debrief them and train them. We barely have time to practice the extraction before we get in and do it for real.”

“It sucks, but I understand your point,” Edward said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“We’ve survived worse,” Bella reminded him.

Unfortunately, she was right. It was that very worse which had taught him to trust no one. Teaghlach gach rud meant nothing if they were plotting behind your back intending to kill you. His parents, his wife’s parents; the list went on. 

Jasper paced across the small room, stopping by the dingy beige curtain and twitching it to the side to stare out at the dark street. “We have no choice. As it is, we should make our practice run tonight.”

Tonight is too soon, Edward’s instincts screamed at him. “You’re right. We can't just sit around and think anything will change for the better.”

Bella clasped her hands together in a fisted ball. “I hate this.”

Snorting, Nigel said, “I almost told you the worst is behind you now that Tito is out of the way, but that would be an insult to your intelligence.”

The men seemed to have a newfound respect for Bella after she’d kicked Tito’s ass. Perhaps they’d all secretly thought she was useless, and only Tito had accused her out loud. As long as they realized they were wrong and acted accordingly, that was the only thing that mattered to Edward. 

“The worst is out there lurking, with a target on my son’s back. They’ll kill us without blinking if we enter their territory with anything less than full stealth.” Bella sighed. “Do we even have that capability?”

“I believe so,” Hollywood replied. “Not that we can throw grenades at their compound and no one will bat an eye, mind you. If it was that easy, I’d blow the place sky high. But with our men in there”—the sentiment shocked Edward—“we have to move carefully.”

“As we mentioned before; in and out. Four on the entrance, four on the inside, four to extract the men.” Dwayne tapped his fingers on his pants. “The men outside will have to keep look-out, and the men inside will ward off anyone who sees us coming.”

Stephen frowned. “We can only practice for the lead-up. There’s no going in until it actually happens.”

“Right.” Dwayne stood. “But we need to see if we can even get close enough to engage the compound on foot.”

“Sounds like we should head out,” Holden stated. For once, James didn't have any snarky words to throw at anyone. All of them recognized the soberness of the situation.

Everyone knew they needed to don full gear as though it was the actual mission. A dress rehearsal, as it were. It had been eons since Bella swiped black paint over his face for him, or since he reciprocated. They had to be careful to blend in with the desert, so their colors weren’t solid black as they would be for a night mission back home. Shades of brown interspersed the black, and their gear was made of desert camouflage. 

Stephen had procured Humvees for the crew, and they divided up into them. Setting out into the pitch-black, Edward thought back to all they’d been through in their lives. Before Bella, he’d seen his fair share of bullets aimed his way. After Bella, though, he’d tried desperately to step away from the violence, he still saw more than his fair share of death. He’d long ago learned he’d rather face the wrath of angels upon his death than the devil he saw when he looked in the mirror. Nothing in his life had truly given him that choice, however, and he would embrace the worst within himself when the time came.

The road, if it could be called that, twisted through the desert mountains the same as a snake slowly choking a person to death. Winding switchbacks were enough to make Bella nauseous, it seemed, because she lowered her head between her knees and gripped his hand tightly. Peeling off his glove, he removed hers as well so they could touch skin to skin. Hopefully, it would calm her nerves.

Once they'd gone as far as they could in the vehicles, they parked behind a rocky rise to remain unseen. Everyone gathered outside the Humvees, listening to Dara speak in their ears.

“Satellite shows the way is clear.”

So the only heat signatures showing on the radar were on or in the compound itself. That was probably how they typically operated.

Quickly, they geared up with weapons and tactical vests, picking their way past rocks and scrub brush. Infrared night vision goggles assisted them in watching their asses, and as the terrain leveled, they fanned out. Four men walked backward, watching the location from which they came, and the rest headed slowly forward. No movement appeared in front of them, and Edward thanked whatever deity would still hear his prayers.

If they were spotted, everything would change. The recon mission was essential, but it was also dangerous. If the enemy forced them to engage, they wouldn't have any luck returning the following night. They’d have to fight their way to the back door and essentially start a war with the Taliban to retrieve the imprisoned agents. Nothing could be worse.

Which was why they weren’t planning on creeping all the way up to the fucking gates and knocking.

All they needed to know was how many men watched the perimeter. How many stood sentry on the walls, and how many watched the back vs the front. So far, the satellite had shown it was next to none, which felt shady to Edward. Then again, he’d never fought terrorist cells embroiled in hell itself.

The inky silence surrounding them was creepy. It was unnatural how still the creatures could remain as they passed, unlike back home in the forests of Washington. Edward was used to birds flying off at the slightest noise; squirrels and whatever else lingered outside constantly moving through the undergrowth. Perhaps everything burrowed here. As he stepped over a rock, he tried to remember how many nocturnal creatures existed in the desert. Whatever was there, apparently they had scared it off.

“That’s as close as I advise you to get,” Dara said in their ears.

With relief, Edward turned to Bella and gave her a thumbs up, but she stared at the macabre sandcastle waiting for them five hundred yards away. Still and silent, the way everything remained for the time being, it rose up from the sandy floor like an imposing watchman. God only knew what horrors it contained.

Unwilling to dwell on that thought, Edward tugged Bella’s arm to encourage her to leave. Reluctantly, she took his hand and followed him back up the ridge to the waiting vehicles. It was an arduous walk, mostly because they were moving uphill, but also because of the pebbles they disrupted with their boots.

Finally, they were on the way back to the safe house. As the adrenaline drained from his system, Edward wanted several things he wouldn't get: at the top of his list was getting his son back. Second, he really wanted a glass of whiskey and a fine cigar. None of those were readily available. 

Third, he wanted his wife. She’d been too distracted, too distraught in France to have any interest in intimacy. In the safe house, they shared a room with Jasper and Jake. If nothing else, sex would give them a distraction for a while, and an itch remained between his shoulder blades that he couldn't scratch.

Bella clung to his side on the ride back, gripping his knee as though it were a lifeline. Part of him wondered if she’d been so tempted to go in alone that she now anchored her body to his. Wordlessly, he covered her hand so she would understand he felt the same.

“Well, that was fun,” Holden said sarcastically once they were back in the safe house.

“Wasn't meant to be a joyride,” Emmett said with a frown aimed at James.

Without another word, the retired agent went down the hall and closed the bedroom door.

“That was weird, even for him,” Jake commented.

“Maybe his ass is in the sling for this entire operation,” Danny said. “I don't know how much he told you, but he wasn't meant to hire us officially the way he did.”

“And he got a verbal beat down last night.” Hollywood opened the refrigerator door. “From the guys who picked up Gonzalez.”

Interesting. Edward had been too far away to hear anything that was said while he watched them load Tito into the helo.

“Good riddance to all of them,” Bella mumbled, peeling off her gloves.

Edward could only agree with that. 

“Anyone mind if I shower first to get all this off?” Bella asked, indicating her face.

When no one complained, she went down the hall. Edward sat in one of the kitchen chairs, and Dara joined them.

“Went well,” she said. “No crazy movement with the heat signatures.”

“At least we weren't spotted tonight,” Seamus said.

Edward tuned them all out, thinking of Bella in the shower. Perhaps he could join her there.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he rose from the chair and strode down the hall. Something had bubbled up inside him, something he couldn't name. Whether it was the energy left from a successful mission or the devil himself fucking with him, he couldn't tell.

Entering their room without knocking, he found Bella gathering clean clothes. She glanced up at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he responded. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he tried to find the words to express himself. Instead, he propped his foot on the bed frame and untied his boots, one after the other. By the time he’d removed them, Bella held a pile of clothing and her body wash in her arms.

“I’ll be back,” she said.

But he didn't let her out of the room. Gripping her chin—still painted black—he tilted her head back and covered her mouth with his own. He thought she might push back, might fight against his advances.

He was right. Tearing her head out of his grasp, she said, “What the hell?”

But she had no idea what ran violently under the surface of his tolerance. Veins boiling, cock hard, Edward backed her against the door and cupped her throat. With her belongings trapped between them, her choices were to hold tight or drop them.

“You told me to fucking unleash him.”

Her eyes widened.

Pressing his thumb against her windpipe, he continued. “And he’s had no chance to come out and play.”

Perhaps she knew him well enough to understand his intentions. Perhaps she wanted it, wanted him—the devil inside Edward.

“Is that all you’ve got, then?” she taunted.

A feral smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Not by a long shot.”

Grasping her nape, he pulled her away from the door and marched her down the hall to the bathroom. The only room in the house where a locked door wouldn’t raise suspicions.

Without waiting for her, he twisted the knobs until water flowed from the showerhead. Turning back, he yanked at her clothes, not giving a flying fuck if something ripped. Her skin reddened where he tugged, but she didn't stand idly while he stripped her down.

She clawed at his throat, shoving his vest off and following it with his long-sleeved T. When he bit her shoulder, she hissed and tore frantically at his waistband until she could unfasten his pants. When she found his cock, it was his turn to hiss and groan at the feel of her enveloping him.

Steam filled the room as they dropped clothing on the floor, as Edward shoved Bella to her knees and his cock in her mouth. Holding her hair in his fist, he buried his length down her throat, ignoring the way her fingernails dug into his thighs. Only once he thought she might need to breathe did he pull back, allowing her to suck in air before shoving in again. Paint streaked with snot and tears had smudged down her throat, fueling him further. She’d pushed his pants to his ankles, and he stepped out of them before reaching for her, hoisting her into his arms, and resting her ass on the tiny sink. 

His cock cried out for fulfillment, but Edward ignored it. Using teeth and tongue, he attacked her throat and down to her breasts as she struggled not to fall off the counter. Her hands found purchase on his forearms, and he took a nipple into his mouth, biting down. Her cries were quickly muted when he slapped a hand over her mouth.

Doe eyes huge on her face, Bella watched Edward. Surely he was not the man she knew, not in recent years at least. There was nothing gentle about the way he thrust three fingers inside her simply to watch her buck and squirm. Tears dripped from the corners of her eyes, and she widened her legs to give him better access. The two of them were nothing but a mass of contradictions as he felt her muscles clamp down on his fingers, her thighs trembling into an orgasm as he flicked her clit without mercy.

Only once she’d come did he clutch her shoulders and slam inside her. Biting her tongue, Bella just barely managed to keep quiet as he rocked her into the mirror. The fingers he’d had in her pussy went in her mouth, and she gagged on them as he thrust hard enough to have her head snapping back. Lost in her heat, in her pussy choking his cock, dropping his forehead to hers was the only way to ground himself in a shred of reality.

The devil slashed its way up his spine, fueling his desire. His entire body flushed red, and the tempest spilled over at last. Panting against his wife, Edward found her mouth and stroked his tongue along hers. Threading his hands through her tangled hair, he kissed her with everything he had left to give.

“Jesus Christ.” Interlacing her fingers behind his head, Bella spoke against his mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“You’re welcome.”