Page 3 of Playing Hard to Get

I wasn’t even halfway to my wall when another blast hit. Close. Too close. Pain sliced through my back as a piercing noise slammed through my ears. I was thrown forward and landed face-first against the open door of a broken down and abandoned car.

All I felt was pain. At the base of my skull under my helmet. Across my lower back and legs, right down to my ankles. Even a slicing, throbbing ache trembled across my back under my flak jacket.

James was at my side, rolling me onto my left arm to take a look at my wounds. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear anything over the screaming in my ears. I blinked hard. Shook my head to push away the piercing noise. He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet.

“Come on. I gotcha.” The whisper of sound leaked through the screams. He tugged my arm over his shoulder and dragged me back to the wall. Propped me up against the old crate I used as a chair when I couldn’t force myself to stand a minute more. He ripped off my jacket and muttered a quiet curse.

“How bad?” I forced the words across a dust-covered tongue.

He didn't hesitate. “You’ll be fine. Fuck.”

“How bad?” I repeated. Pain lashed my back and I screamed out.

“You’ll be okay,” he said after my screams quieted. “Just… gotta get the shrapnel out.” He poked and prodded, eliciting more screams from me.

Macevoy was the medic, but that bastard didn't leave Barnes’ side unless he was ordered to. James had taken over for minor injuries for most of the men in the unit. But the string of profanities he spit out told me he was in over his head.

“Saunders… I need help.” The sound of the Frankenstein’s return rumbled in the distance. “There’s too much. This piece—”

My scream interrupted him. A scream I didn't realize I'd made. Only thing I felt was the spasm of torture racing across my back.

“Macevoy’s gonna have to do this, man. We might need to evacuate.”

Nodding, I let my body slump across the crate. My gun rested in my hand. I loosened my grip, not wanting to accidentally shoot.

James stood. Paced back and forth. “They’re almost here, man. Just hold on.”

“I'm holding.” Just barely. The pain was so intense I could feel myself slipping.

“We’ll get you home, brother. Won't let nothing happen to you.”

The Frankenstein’s engine thundered close, then stopped. The doors creaked open and slammed shut. James yelled for Macevoy, and the rest of the guys yelled back. Words unintelligible. Whatever it was, sliced through me worse than the pain. My hand clenched on the handle of my rifle. I forced myself to roll off my crate and I hit the ground. James turned and looked down at me as a shadow floated across my face.

James froze. Turned. My eyes followed his. A Jihadi stood on the roof of the building above us, gun raised. James’ gun sat on the ground at my feet.

Gunshots rang out. A bullet pierced my calf muscle as my finger squeezed on the trigger. The pain hit me as the Jihadi fell. His body hung over the edge of the building.

Another body landed next to mine.

I forced my eyes open through the pain. A greater pain hit me right in the chest.

It was James.

His dark blue eyes stared straight at me, unseeing.

A bullet pierced his skull. A trickle of blood seeped from the wound, down his brow to the ground.

James was gone.

1

Vivian

I'd never been one for fantasies. I wasn’t a girl who believed in fairytales. There was no such thing as fairies, fairy godmothers, or love at first sight. There were no magical beans, special powers, or handsome princes coming to rescue me from the evil villain. I was no princess, that was for sure. I worked hard at what I did, and what came to me was because I made it happen. I worked hard to control every aspect of my life, and I didn't wait for anything.

Mine was not a fairytale life. But if it was, I'd likely be cast as the evil villain for the things I'd done. That was as close to a fairytale as I'd ever be.

I'd been harboring a fantasy for over a year. It was the forbidden kind, wrought with the kind of danger that could ruin lives. It consumed my dreams at night and encroached on my daily life. While I traveled the world for my work, I couldn't stop thinking about it.