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Authors: Aliyah Burke

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No matter what Gordon’s state of mind, he had chosen a beautiful

dress. Even with the bruise on her cheek, CJ had to admit she looked

pretty good once dressed.

There was a sadness in her eyes that took away from the overall

image she presented; but as her shaking hands placed the tiara on,

Chantoya knew Gordon wouldn’t care.

With the train attached, CJ sat down to wait. Her heart fought

valiantly to find a slow rhythm and give her some sense of decorum

and control. A knock at the door barely gave her pause. This moment,

to her, was paramount to walking the plank.

“Are you ready, Chantoya?” Gordon’s voice, a voice that at one

time had been relaxing to hear, asked.

“Is the preacher here?”

“No, not yet.” The doorknob turned.

“Don’t come in, Gordon. You aren’t supposed to see me before

the ceremony.”

“If this is some sort of trick, I’m warning you right now, CJ—”

Fire flashed in her eyes. “Look, at least give me this. You aren’t

letting me have family or friends around.” CJ knew her voice sounded

sharp and drawn, and she couldn’t care less.

“I’ll be right outside the door. He’ll be here about nine.”

“Whatever.” CJ continued to sit on the edge of Gordon’s bed.

She could see a shadow outside the door but didn’t move. For all she

knew it was a trick and Gordon was watching her right now. There

were cameras in his room as well.

It had been extremely difficult to take the nail file and keep it

hidden but she’d been unable to resist the attempt when she saw it

there in the bathroom. Another reason to hold still. The tight dress

didn’t leave much room to conceal a makeshift weapon.

Half past eight. Watching the clock, CJ wriggled her toes inside

the shoes on her feet.
He finally gave me shoes.
Trying to control her

emotions, CJ realized she had to wait until the main door was opened

or figure out how to shut off the power to the voltage that ran into the

handle.
That wasn’t a nice feeling, having all that power sent through me.

Even if stabbed, Gordon would present a huge danger. He

might still have a gun on him, not to mention, he was healthy, in his

element, much stronger, and extremely certifiable.

Quarter to nine. Twenty or so versions of how things could go

ran through her mind.
Anytime now, the preacher will be here.
Stab Gor-

Vittano's Willow

181

don? Where? Eye, throat, crotch, arm, chest, or wherever she could

reach. She had no clue.

“Fuck!” she heard Gordon yell. “Goddamn raccoons setting off

the perimeter alarms!” He sounded nervous.

Hands began to sweat and Chantoya wiped them off one at a

time on the comforter. How she longed for her necklace and the comfort

it brought her. A Madonna and child with her name engraved on the

back, she had worn it since before she could remember. She hoped that

if her brothers found it, they would know she didn’t go willingly, for

she never took it off.

“He’s on his way up,” Gordon told her through the door. “Soon,

Chantoya, soon you will be mine.”

Calm. Serenity. Fortitude.
One hand ran down her face as she

shifted on the bed.
Stay strong, CJ. You will survive this.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Explosions rocked the house and plunged it into total darkness.

CJ screamed and hit the floor.
What the…?
Fear she had been try-

ing to control surged forward and spilled over. When a hand clamped

down onto her shoulder, she began to fight.

Struggling as she was dragged across the floor, gagging when a

foot hit her in the gut. “Shut up!” Gordon hissed, not at all sounding in

control. Reaching for the file, she plunged it into his thigh as hard as she

could. “Aarrgghhh!” he hollered.

None of that registered to her as she scrambled in the direction

she believed the door to be. Yanking it open, CJ barreled out into the

pitch black hall and kept going.
How far to the stairs? Was it seven or nine

steps?

“CJ!” Gordon yelled as shots began ringing behind her. Appar-

ently, he had managed to make it to the door as well, for one of the

bullets landed in the wall beside her.

Not slowing, CJ panicked further when she ran into something

solid.
Another man? Gordon? His preacher?
She fought as hard as she

could until she was easily restrained and felt cloth cover her mouth and

nose. As she fell into oblivion, Chantoya could somewhat make out

Gordon’s voice as he cried out her name in pain and anger. Then there

was nothing.

182

Aliyah Burke

As the chopper flew away into the night, Osten ripped off his

night vision goggles and had a light on CJ as he checked her over. She

was unconsciousness and he longed to wake her, but it had to be this

way.

Renewed anger and the desire to kill filled him as his fingers

traced the hand prints that were on her shoulder and cheek. Still, his

touch was beyond tender as he cleaned away the sweat and dirt from

her face.

People were silent as they headed back from a mission they nev-

er even went on. The fact CJ was in a wedding dress wasn’t mentioned,

or that Osten had almost killed Gordon. It had taken Tyson and Aidrian

to pull him off the unconscious man.

The other men in the chopper allowed a slight grin to touch the

corners of their stern expressions at the way Osten cradled Chantoya’s

body against his. They didn’t say a word as he attached a necklace back

around her neck before lowering his face by hers and just holding her.

As the chopper landed, there was a waiting vehicle into which

Osten placed CJ. Dark eyes conveyed the unspoken message of safety

and speed to the man who got behind the wheel and drove her away.

“You’ll be with her soon,” Harrier’s voice said softly. “He’ll take

good care of her.”

Osten never moved until he could no longer see the taillights of

the vehicle transporting his future. Then and only then did he follow

Harrier into the hangar and entered a dark SUV.

Forcing himself to not answer his ringing cell phone, Osten still

checked the number. It was Ajani. A few minutes later, Osten played

the message Ajani had left: Chantoya had been found and was recover-

ing in the hospital. Then Ajani gave him the name of the hospital and

her room number.

The rest of the night passed slowly as the men ran drills out in

the cold weather. Harrier finally let them go at 0930 and Osten’s hair

was barely dry as he left the base and headed for the hospital.

His steps were quick despite his exhaustion as he entered the

building. Without speaking to the receptionist, he made his way up to

Chantoya’s room.

A moment of hesitation stopped him outside, but he opened the

door slowly. Sharp eyes landed on the figure that lay so still on the

hospital bed. The normally dark skin was pallored and contained a gray

tint.

Vittano's Willow

183

The only chair in the room was taken by a large man who sat in

silence by the prone body. Worry lines filled his scruffy face. He held

one of her hands in his own. His fingers caressed her skin.

“Ajani?” Osten spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.

“They’re keeping her sedated until they make sure there is no

remaining toxin in her.” Ajani never looked away from his sister. “How

do they knew what they gave her won’t make it worse?”

With a deep breath, Osten moved fully into the room and

walked to the other side of the bed. “Have faith.” Looking down, fresh

rage immediately swarmed the Italian. Her face still bore the remaining

traces of bruising.
Oh, my precious CJ. I long to kill him for doing this to you.

Barely aware of her brother in the room, Osten brushed a hand

across Chantoya’s forehead before leaning down to kiss her. Trailing his

lips along her cheek he stopped by her ear.

“Don’t leave me, Chantoya. I need you in my life.” A wry grin

flitted briefly across his face. “I know, I know. That’s selfish of me, but I

don’t care. You mean more to me than anyone I’ve ever known.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I wish I were lying

there instead. Fight to get through this, CJ. You are resilient, like the

willow tree. You can make it. I’ll be waiting.”

Osten reached around and removed his necklace. With the care

of a man touching something so delicate, he put his gold necklace in her

hand, kissing each finger as he closed them around the cross. He

wanted to put it upon her neck, but her own necklace was there and he

knew it gave her comfort.

“Mr. Scoleri,” a low voice grated behind him.

“Yes?” he said without turning around. His eyes flickered to

Ajani who looked between him and the person behind him.

“You are going to have to come with us.”

Brushing a kiss on the back of CJ’s hand, Osten stood and

turned. Special Agent Marks. “What for?” All the compassion in his

eyes left, leaving a blank stare.

“For interfering with a federal investigation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know damn—”

“Don’t cuss in front of my sister!” Ajani snapped out, his voice

harsh enough that the other men fell momentarily silent.

“My apologies,” Special Agent Marks said. Then he looked back

at Osten. “You know fully well what I am talking about. Going in and

blowing up Gordon’s home and beating him.”

184

Aliyah Burke

Osten shook his head in disgust. “I did nothing of the sort.” He

turned his attention back to CJ. All tender emotion returned as he gazed

down at her. “Come back to me, CJ.
Non posso vivere senza voi. Voglio

passare il resto della mia vita con te. Sei la mia anima gemella.”
He kissed her

on her dry, cracked lips and brushed a strand of hair away from her ear.

Facing the frowning agent, Osten said, “I’m not going to argue

with you in here. Step out into the hall and say your piece.”

The FBI man nodded and waved Osten out first, closing the

door behind him. “Why did you interfere?”

“I didn’t interfere with a damn thing,” Osten said, holding the

other’s gaze.

“Then can you explain what happened out in the mountains last

night?”

“I don’t know what happened in the mountains last night. I

wasn’t in them. I was here on base.”

Marks ran a hand over his head. “Cut the crap. We both know

that you busted in there, blew up his place, beat him up, and rescued

the girl.”

A glint appeared in Osten’s dark eyes. “Is he still breathing?”

“Yes,” Marks answered. “Why?”

“Because I would have killed him if I had gotten a hold of him.”

Understanding filled the older man’s gaze. “I believe you would

have. But that doesn’t negate the explosives, or the fact she was gone

when we got there.”

“Look, I just got here. I left base about 0945 this morning. Had I

been the one to rescue her, I would have brought her in and would have

been the one to call her brother telling him she had been found. Not the

other way around. So, back the fuck off!” Osten snarled.

“Pretty defensive for an innocent man,” Marks taunted.

Osten didn’t back down. “Any man would be defensive with

you treating him like you are treating me.”

“Who can corroborate your story?”

“You can call my CO, XO, or any man from my Team. We were

running drills last night. We were doing a 30-30.”

“A 30-30?” Marks asked.

“Thirty feet over the water in a helo doing thirty knots. We jump

in fully geared and swim back to shore. Last night was a short one, only

five miles in.”

The federal agent couldn’t hide the shocked and slightly im-

pressed look. “That’s what you did?”

Vittano's Willow

185

“Yes, sir.” Osten was never going to admit to this man just how

truly exhausted he was. The “nonexistent” rescue, the 30-30, and the

“easy” fifteen mile run that followed had taken their toll on him more

than usual given his attention was on Chantoya.

Osten waited for the next question. His tenuous hold on his

temper was fading fast. CJ was in the room right behind him. He

needed to be with her, not answering a crabby man’s questions.

“If that’s all, I’ll be getting back inside,” Osten said calmly.

That got the man’s attention. “Actually you still have to come

with me. Until we get all of this straightened out.”

“You’re arresting me?” Osten asked, incredulous.

As the annoying man stood there and assessed Osten’s question,

he flipped through the notebook silently. “No, not arresting you. I’m

detaining you until I am satisfied with this story you gave.”

“Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?” Osten demanded, his muscular

physique tensing. Special Agent Marks merely stared back. “The

woman I love is in there and you want to detain me? Because you don’t

believe my story? Listen you asswipe, I suggest you make this quick,

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