Reckless Read online

  RECKLESS

  Viper Force, Book 3

  MARLIE MAY

  RECKLESS

  Copyright © 2020 Marlie May

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or

  reproduced in any manner whatsoever without

  written permission except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book

  is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events,

  and incidents are a product of the

  Author’s imagination. Any resemblance to an actual person,

  living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  ASIN: B0818XBBMH

  * * *

  Cover art by Black Bird Book Covers

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  RECKLESS

  1. Jax

  2. Haylee

  3. Jax

  4. Haylee

  5. Jax

  6. Haylee

  7. Jax

  8. Haylee

  9. Jax

  10. Haylee

  11. Jax

  12. Haylee

  13. Jax

  14. Haylee

  15. Jax

  16. Haylee

  17. Jax

  18. Haylee

  19. Jax

  20. Haylee

  21. Jax

  22. Haylee

  23. Jax

  24. Haylee

  25. Jax

  26. Haylee

  27. Jax

  28. Haylee

  29. Haylee

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Marlie May

  CALL IT LOVE

  Chapter 1

  Acknowledgments

  For my critique partners:

  Lee, Jes, Stephanie, Lana, Katrina

  Linda, Laura, Renée, Alex, & Becky

  I’m grateful to have all of you in my life.

  * * *

  For Mom. Miss you.

  * * *

  For my children who give me endless support.

  * * *

  And, last, but not least, for my own personal hero,

  my retired Seabee Chief husband.

  I couldn’t do this without you.

  RECKLESS

  Trapped together on an uninhabited Caribbean island and hunted by killers,

  can Haylee & Jax survive long enough to find their happily ever after?

  While on assignment for Viper Force, Haylee, a former Navy Seabee gunner’s mate, barely lived through an "accident" in Mexico. When someone tries to finish her off while she's recovering in rehab, she begs her secret crush and fellow Seabee Chief, Jax, to hide her before the next attempt is permanent.

  * * *

  Jax fell for Haylee months ago and while he knows she can't stand him, he'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. A cat and mouse chase sends them to a cruise ship, then fleeing in a helo over the ocean. They crash-land and swim to an uninhabited island. The killer follows, determined to exterminate both of them forever.

  * * *

  It'll take their combined military experience and some tricks from Viper Force to survive, all while fighting the attraction they're helpless to resist. The Maestro plans to eliminate Haylee and Jax, and only the victors will escape the island.

  1

  Jax

  Some dude I’d never seen before, a guy who was not Haylee’s nurse, stood beside her bed, injecting something into her I.V.

  A week ago, they turned off Haylee’s sedation, saying they wanted to see how she responded. Short of a wince when they rubbed her chest—hard—we had nothin’.

  Five days ago, they pulled the tube from her lungs, saying she could breathe on her own.

  They moved her out of ICU and then to rehab, saying it was time for her to progress after the “accident”.

  They’d increased her physical therapy. Even played her favorite music and TV shows ’round the clock.

  But she hadn’t moved. Hadn’t opened her eyes.

  Not even when Clyde, the guard someone high up in the government had sent, turned on the TV and watched some stupid game show, blaring the volume throughout the room.

  Or when her dad, her only surviving parent, squeezed her hand and pleaded for her to come back. If nothing else, that should’ve done it.

  And now someone was trying to kill her.

  Again.

  I hadn’t been there for her when someone forced her car into that ravine. Or when her dad arranged for her to be shipped by helo from Cancun to Miami.

  But I sure as hell was here for her now.

  Rushing across the room, I flung my scalding-hot coffee into the startled face of a guy fifteen or so years older than me. Black hair with graying temples. Brown eyes. Slight build. A meaty fist that connected with my jaw. He’d been aiming for my throat, hoping to crush my larynx.

  Dude. I’d learned how to deflect worse blows than that by the time I turned sixteen. Living on the streets will do that for a kid.

  I growled, and my punch didn’t miss.

  Gagging and clutching his throat, the man stumbled backward before he pivoted and bailed across Haylee’s bed. He crashed against her side table then onto the tile floor on the other side of the bed.

  Haylee winced and groaned. Her eyes opened, and her gaze met mine.

  “Jax?” Though scratchy and weak and lacking her hallmark spunk, just hearing her say my name was enough to make me tremble. But the asshole who’d tried to end her life permanently had sprung to his feet and was raging for the door.

  “Be right back.” Breaking eye contact with Haylee, I gave chase, hitting the solid panel with my fist as it swung back in my face. With a grunt, I blasted the door open. It ricocheted off the cinder block wall with a bang as I bolted from the room and into the hallway. I only paused long enough to seek someone fleeing. A hunter, I’d catch the perp then show him a few moves I’d learned on the streets.

  Down the hall, the elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. The guy leaped inside as I charged that way. As the panels pinched closed, I shoved my fingers in the narrowing slot and pried the doors open.

  Not getting away. Not until I’d pummeled him.

  With his legs spread in a shooter’s stance, the guy stood inside the empty elevator with two hands supporting a 9 mil at chest height. Safety off. The barrel drilled my way.

  While my lungs heaved, I lifted my hands, palms exposed, and stepped toward him.

  He nudged the gun in the air. “Don’t even try me, man.”

  “Who sent you?”

  His dry laugh burst out. “Maybe instead of asking me questions, you should look in on your girlfriend.”

  She wasn’t my girlfriend. She’d never be.

  The doors started closing, and a smirk rose on his face. “Just injected her with a boatload of potassium.”

  At the nurse’s station, a heart monitor alarmed shrilly.

  Fuck. Haylee.

  Wrenching backward, I spun and bolted for her room, my pulse aflame. My breathing raged as I hit the door at a dead run and slammed inside.

  Blood.

  On the bed. The floor. Spattered on the walls.

  My horrified gaze followed the splotchy trail to where Haylee slouched in the very corner I’d held up for too many sleepless nights. She stood on her good leg with the injured one bent, dressed only in her flimsy cotton hospital gown. Shivers wracked her frame, and tears of pain and fury streamed from her blazing eyes. Blood dripped down her arm from where she’d yanked out her I.V. She’d hefted a hunk of her dismantled I.V. pole overhead, ready to smack whoever came inside the room.

  “Jax,” she whispered. The pole dropped. It clanged on the tile flo
or as she slumped forward.

  I caught her. I’d always catch her.

  Until she sent me away.

  “Got you,” I growled.

  “Jax.”

  “Here, sweetheart.”

  “Sweetheart?” Her eyelids fluttered and an unexpected half-smile rose on her face, but she lifted and shook her finger near my face. “Sounds like flirting.”

  As I shifted her in my arms, aiming for a comfortable position, she groaned.

  “Sorry,” I hissed out.

  “Hurts.”

  Her leg or her ribs? Or, hell, the entire right side of her chest that had taken a direct hit in the car crash? For all I knew, she was talking about her concussed head.

  I turned, holding her as gently as possible, but she gasped—a shallow puff from her lungs the only movement her tortured ribcage would allow.

  “You killed him,” she spit out.

  “Nope.” I carried her around to the side of the bed. The side rails were still up. She must’ve dragged herself off the end. “I wish I had.”

  “Too bad.”

  Damn right.

  “Guess I’ll have to do it for you,” she whispered.

  My chuckle rushed out of me as I carefully lowered her onto the bed. Easing her feet to the side, I tugged up the sheet and blanket to cover her goosebump-riddled body.

  “Take my clothes off,” she said.

  My hands stalled. They shook so badly I nearly dropped the blanket.

  Get control of yourself, Chief.

  She was joking.

  “On a first date?” I croaked. Not sure where my daring came from. Usually around Haylee, my words stalled on my tongue, unable to slide free. But there was something vulnerable, sweet, and approachable about a wounded Haylee. I wasn’t freezing or stuttering like I always did whenever she was around.

  “I didn’t mean anything like that,” she said.

  Nope. She never would.

  I lifted the blanket up to her shoulders and tucked it down snug.

  “I know you hate me,” she said, tears leaking from her tightly closed eyes. Creases of pain lined her beautiful face.

  “Not too much.” Not at all. How could I? I’d liked this woman from the moment I met her, when I joined Flint’s newly formed business, Viper Force. The business was made up of a group of ex-Navy Seabees brought together to test new weapons and handle “special” projects for the military.

  “Can you do something for me?” she bit through her clenched jaw.

  “Anything, sweetheart.” This endearment, I forced out. Joking between us was one thing, but I more than half meant it.

  One hundred percent meant it.

  Reaching up, her hand clamped around my wrist. “Get me the hell out of here,” she said with terror lifting her voice. “Before they kill me.”

  2

  Haylee

  Jax roared across the parking lot, and the tires of his SUV squealed as he drove the vehicle out onto the main road.

  While he watched the side and rearview mirrors, plus the road, I braced myself in the passenger seat, trying to keep my ribs from puncturing my right lung. Puncturing it again, I supposed, since the stabs ripping through the sensitive tissue each time we hit a bump suggested my lungs had taken a hit or two already.

  Damn, I ached. From my head to my right leg to my left pinky toe, plus everything in between. White lights flashed around me brighter than those on the main strip at Vegas. I took in a bunch of shallow breaths and prayed I wouldn’t pass out.

  The backward hospital gown Jax had carefully fed my arms through to use like a robe over the other one had ridden up. Nothing beat bare thighs plastering themselves to leather.

  Hell. At least I wore undies.

  The stunned looks on the nurse’s faces…and the strangers’…as Jax carried me from the room, down the hall, and out the front door, would remain in my mind for days.

  “How long was I there?” I barked, not because I was angry but because I could barely hold myself together. My scream kept rushing up my throat, desperate to break free. I wanted to gnash my teeth. Clamp my hands into fists until the nails bit through my palms. Cry.

  “Rehab?” he said, sparing me a quick glance. “Three days. Four hours. Twenty minutes. We’re in Miami, by the way.”

  “We’re in Florida?”

  “Your dad had you life-flighted from Cancun.”

  Cancun. Yeah, that was right. I remembered now. Gabe, a fellow Viper Force employee, and I had flown to Cancun on assignment. Ex-Seabees, we both worked for the owner, Flint, who’d also been in the Navy with us. Viper Force specialized in testing top-secret weapons for the military and performing special ops assignments handed to us by my dad, a retired Admiral who did government consulting to keep his mind active—his words, not mine.

  Our assignment had been to seek out intel that could be used to take down a small branch of a big drug cartel tree. We needed to gain evidence implicating cartel sympathizers high in the Mexican government. This information would then be used to discover who the organization was affiliated with in the U.S. One man—or woman—who controlled the entire northeast operation.

  The Maestro.

  Gabe and me, we’d… I shook my head. Everything that happened after we flew into Cancun felt cloudy, as if I stood on a pier in Portland, Maine, trying to see through heavy fog banks rolling in from the Atlantic.

  Arms flexing, Jax wove the vehicle through a bunch of side streets until even my brain was scrambled, and pulled into a big box store parking lot. He wheeled around to the far side of the building to take a spot, and then sat with his foot on the brake. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he studied the surroundings via the mirrors before his back loosened. He shut off the engine and popped free his seatbelt. “I’m going in. Need to pick up a few things.”

  “You got the munchies?” I spit out, still bracing myself in the seat. We were no longer moving. Why did my head keep spinning?

  “Assume you want to wait here?” he asked, pulling the key from the ignition.

  “If my outfit doesn’t draw attention, you carrying me around the store might.” I’d yet to determine if I could walk more than a few jagged steps, but the long scar on my right thigh plus the burning ache in my chest suggested I’d be better off not pushing for distance.

  There was no need to face plant in the chip aisle.

  When we’d gotten into the vehicle, he’d pulled a 9 mil from behind his waist and dropped it on his lap. He lifted and offered it to me.

  “Thanks.” Exhausted from the escape and what had almost happened back in the room, I appreciated the extra insurance. I’d never shot a weapon while drunk, but I imagined doing so while trying not to pass out would feel about the same. I might not hit dead center, but I’d be able to graze the outer circle.

  “Won’t be long,” he said, handing over the keys as well, giving me an out if I needed one. Worse case, I could bolt for the store. In a hospital johnny, but people wore weird clothing in department stores all the time. I wouldn’t stand out too much.

  His hand pinched the door handle but he paused, awaiting my confirmation.

  I gave him a sharp nod and watched as he got out of the SUV and, using the vehicle as cover, scanned the area again.

  With a click, I engaged the vehicle locks as he strode toward the store.

  While I had a feeling I’d already slept three lifetimes, it seemed my body disagreed. Blackness dragged my mind to the edge of a cliff and I teetered. I didn’t mean to nod off, only lay my head back against the seat and rest my eyes…

  Startled awake by a tap on the window, I bolted forward, groaning when agony shot up my spine. Spasms took over my body, and my teeth clattered together. I really needed to lie down, but I doubted a restful sleep was in my foreseeable future.

  Jax stood patiently beside the SUV, a bunch of shopping bags bunched in one hand and his other bracing a pack draped over his shoulder. A tag on the strap spun in the breeze. His face, like always, was
solidified in a mask of indifference.

  Heat flooded from my chest to my cheeks, and I scrambled to pick up the gun that had slipped from my hand and onto the floor. It was a damn good thing the safety was on.

  Jerking my hand out, I unlocked the doors.

  Beyond Jax, a few rows away from where he’d parked, a man I’d never seen before leaned against a light blue vehicle. About thirty years old. Average height and build. Dirty blond hair. And an intent gaze that watched our every movement.

  While Jax walked around behind the vehicle, I watched the man.

  He tossed a cigarette onto the ground and snuffed it into the pavement before getting into the vehicle and pulling out of his spot. He didn’t look this way as he turned toward the exit.

  Probably nothing.

  After tossing everything into the back, Jax climbed into the driver’s seat and took the keys from my limp hand.

  “You okay?” he asked, staring forward. He avoided my gaze either because he didn’t want me to see the disgust filling his features or he didn’t care. Both notions stung equally.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m perfect. I was just catching up on my beauty sleep.”