Free Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Marking Mariah (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Liz Crowe Page A

herd?”
    Mike’s face flushed red when he looked up. And still Terry kept running his fool mouth, even as his inner smart grown up guy tried to stop him. Even as he saw Renee approach him from what remained of his peripheral vision. “She’s the only one I fucked here, in my old room. You were probably watching, weren’t ya, you old pervert. Just biding your time…”
    Renee’s slap came out of nowhere, catching him unaware, and sending him down to his ass on the couch. When his skull jounced against the back, reverberating down his spine, he groaned, leaned over and threw up on the nice, clean floor.
    “Jesus,” Mike said, jumping back. “Renee, call nine-one-one. Now.”
    “No, no,” Terry groaned, holding up a hand and staring down at the mess of puke—mostly clear liquid since he’d ended up skipping breakfast anyway, in his anxious haste to get on the road and get this glorious father-son reunion over with. He’d not reckoned on the step-mama angle, of course. “I’m fine. Sorry, I’ll clean it up.”
    But when he tried to get up, the room did an alarming three-sixty on him. The floor under his feet seemed to warp. Someone grabbed his arm. Someone else was talking, but he could no longer distinguish words from the ringing—the clanging really—in his ears. Someone groaned, loudly, and when he realized it came from him, he let the darkness take him.

Chapter Eight
     
    “Mama! I don’t like it! I’m not going!”
    Mariah sighed and slumped back against the stack of boxes still sitting unpacked in her living room. It was hotter than Hades and the A/C was on the fritz so she had some fans running and the sliding door to the outside wide open. Perfect for anyone passing by to hear Cole’s ear splitting screeches.
    In the week since they’d arrived, she’d been determined to give Cole all the attention he required so he could adjust, to ease his way into the new life she’d sorted out for them. But he resisted her at every step. He wouldn’t eat, barely slept, and threw at least two breathtaking tantrums a day.
    Like now, as they sat in their swimsuits, a bag packed with snacks and towels by the door. All they had to do was walk out that door and down the sidewalk to the condo complex’s pool. There were a few other kids there, she’d noted and when she’d asked him if he’d like to try it, he’d seemed enthusiastic enough. Until now, when it was actually time to leave.
    He seemed terrified of anything outside his small realm of toys and familiar DVDs. When he did sleep, he stayed curled up next to her, making them both sweaty and irritable when they woke.
    She watched him as if from a long way away, pondering her next move. Deciding to go with the advice a pediatrician friend of hers had offered when she’d called, terrified and desperate in the face of his small boy vehemence, she got up and headed into the kitchen to grab some ice to put against her neck. Sticking her entire face into the blessed cold of the freezer distracted her a few seconds. When she felt something wrap around her calf, she smiled, grabbed a popsicle and closed the freezer. “Here buddy, let’s just sit and have one of these, okay?”
    He nodded, his eyes watery, his nose runny, his small hand clutching her leg. And they sat, staring at yet another episode of Sponge Bob, the fans blowing her hair around her face, Cole pressing so close to her their skin stuck together. By the time she finished her popsicle, she realized he’d fallen asleep and his had melted in her lap, leaving a wet puddle of grape juice under her butt.
    She cried then, for the thousandth time as Sponge Bob and his Bikini Bottom buddies went about their business on the screen in front of her. She must have slept because the room was dark and the TV off when her eyes opened next. She sat up, alarmed, but not truly freaked out until she saw the open screen door.
    “Holy shit.” She lurched to her feet, not caring that her rear end was stained purple