Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Redemption for Misty (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Pierce Securities Book 5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

He’d forgotten how hot blood was. But Misty’s blood was boiling. And she was groaning.
    “Where are you hurt?” She’d been shot. Right here in front of him. Crash was going to kick his ass. And he might as well just go home to his mom. There was no way he could forgive himself. He should have made her stay in the kitchen, where there weren’t any windows. Or home. Yeah. She’d be safe at home. His hands skated across her body, looking for wounds, but all he could feel was hot wetness. It felt like weird blood. It wasn’t sticky at all.
    “Why don’t you take her into the kitchen?” Ghost asked, a thin smile on his lips. “Those Volkswagen backfires can be brutal.”
    Chris climbed off Misty, who rolled over to expose a wet, brown torso. Coffee. He’d burned her with coffee. What he’d done hit him like a punch in the gut.
    “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Without another word, Chris scooped her up and held her in his arms while she tried to hold her shirt away from her skin. She hadn’t been shot. Chris had burned the ever-loving shit out of her with hot coffee.
    She weighed nothing as he toted her into the kitchen, cursing apologies the entire way. “Jesus, Misty. I’m so fucking sorry. So fucking sorry.”
    “What did you think it was, Chris? Somebody blowing up the capitol?” God love her. She was joking with him while in obvious pain.
    Ghost had followed them, and he tensed at the doorway but said nothing. He was definitely an odd bird. Military, for sure—probably some special forces. Due to his secretive nature, Chris would guess the ever-elusive Delta Force, but since the Army didn’t really say much about them, he’d probably never know. But he was definitely someone on assignment. Chris was familiar with the posture, the alert intelligence, the no-nonsense attitude.
    “It sounded like a lot of stuff I heard in another life.” Chris shrugged. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it, but Misty had tears in her eyes, and they were there because of him.
    Ghost piped up. “Actually, it did sound a lot like an IED, Misty. Anybody who’s seen action would find the corollary. I think he might have been reacting to your reaction to the sound,” he mused.
    “First-aid kit?”
    She sniffed, pointing to a door on the side of the kitchen. “Yeah. I’ve got one in the storage closet.”
    Chris retrieved it from the immaculate closet—shelves upon shelves of neatly stacked and labeled boxes. He found a small bottle of salve with Aloe Vera in it and took it back to where Misty was sitting, Ghost watching closely.
    “Here. Take your shirt off. Let me see what I’ve done.”
    Ghost turned his back while Misty inhaled deeply, removing her shirt with a swift exhalation of air. Chris knew the bright red skin was tender and probably hurt like a bitch. He warmed some of the salve between his fingers and began applying it as gently as she could, ignoring the bared curves on display.
    “What made you jump like that, Misty?” Ghost asked. “It’s really none of my business, but I’ve seen jumpy people in my line of work, and you’re up there with the best of them.”
    Chris clenched his teeth together but still couldn’t stop himself from jumping to her defense. He was proud of her, the reaction notwithstanding. It would take a feat of herculean strength to not react to a car backfiring after what she’d been through.
    “She was attacked in her home and kidnapped. Held for several days. Raped. The rescue attempt involved flash bang grenades and a lot of fucking noise,” Chris gritted out through clenched teeth. He’d heard the entire story from Crash, who’d replayed what he’d learned to the platoon, who’d all gotten drunk in celebration that night. “I’d say she’s entitled to a little jumpiness.”
    Ghost’s mouth turned down into a frown. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you personally who needed redemption.” He was referring to the name of the coffee shop, but Chris was