HOT SEAL Hero: HOT SEAL Team - Book 7

by Lynn Raye Harris

Chloe sucked in a breath as hope filled her. For the first time she felt it, that little trickle of hope draining into her like energy to a dead battery. Ryan had told her she had an entire SEAL team at her back.

  It was time to act like it. Because they were coming, and these men didn’t stand a chance.

  Twenty-Three

  Ian Black came through. He hadn’t given them any grief. He’d simply opened his arsenal and said, “What do you want?”

  They were on the way to Virginia and a remote location in the Shenandoahs when Viking’s phone rang. “Yes, sir?” he said as they bumped along in two dark SUVs. There was silence for a long minute while they exchanged looks. It was still light out for another hour or so and they could all see each other’s faces. Ryan held his breath. If this was an order to turn around, he wasn’t letting it happen.

  “Yes, sir!” Viking said a few moments later. He dropped the phone to his lap and shook his head slowly back and forth. “Damn.”

  “What is it?” Cage, his second in command, asked.

  Ryan’s guts were ice water as he waited for the answer.

  “Mendez. He said he hopes we have a good time on our R&R.”

  Relief rolled through him. It rolled through everyone, which was apparent in the way they all let out the collective breath they’d been holding. “Damn,” Neo said. “How did he know?”

  “Ian,” Blade replied. “Guaranteed. Those two have some sort of understanding between them.”

  “This is off the books,” Viking said, his voice hard and firm. “We get caught, we’re gonna swing. Rogue SEALs, etcetera.”

  “Then we’d better not get caught,” Ryan said.

  They left the SUVs several miles from the hot zone and footed it in. Travis James said come alone, but no way was that happening. They were a team, and they were going in as a team. They were far more equipped and trained than James and his militia, but they weren’t stupid either. Those boys were trigger happy and they’d be scared once the invasion started.

  It wasn’t hard to find the location. The militia wasn’t exactly quiet, though they were fortified. Ryan and his team sported night vision goggles, which they’d donned as the light faded from the sky. They could have been here earlier. He’d wanted to be, but the best time to attack was after dark.

  They wore black assault suits and they were miked up same as a mission into terrorist-held territory. They split up when they reached the perimeter. There was a house and a few tents on the premises. Chloe could be in any of them. He dialed in the NVGs and studied the scene. There were heat signatures in the tree line beyond, most likely Travis James’s militia. It was possible they had heat equipment too, which meant the SEALs had to be careful.

  But they’d trained for it. Ryan’s goggles picked up heat in the lone structure. He couldn’t tell if that heat was male or female, but it was the only signature in the building. Was it Chloe or was it a trap?

  “I see it too, Dirty,” Viking said into the mike. “But stick with the plan. It could be a trap.”

  “Agreed,” Ryan said even though he was dying to find Chloe and take her away from this mess.

  “All right, let’s move out. Swarm the bastards from behind. Disarm and bind. No shots.”

  “And if they shoot at us?” Neo asked.

  “Evade. We can’t kill these fuckers on US soil. We’re a motherfucking SEAL team and these are redneck civilians. We’ve been over this, goddammit.”

  “Copy, boss. Just checking.”

  “Neo, I’m going to motherfucking kill you next time I see you,” Viking growled. “Now let’s do this.”

  Chloe strained to hear anything outside. All she heard were frogs and an occasional owl. Every once in a while, she thought she heard voices. She’d been through the house, all three rooms of it, and there were no weapons. Her eye was swelling so big she couldn’t see out of it and her body ached. But she was determined. So determined.

  She made the circuit again. It was possible she’d missed something, right? She shuffled into rooms, her hands restrained, and peered into corners and windowsills. Frustrated and aching, she shuffled back to the bed. It was dark in the house, but the moon was rising in the sky outside. Pale light slanted across the room now, illuminating floorboards with gaps between them. She didn’t want to sit on the bed again, so she spun and hobbled to the other side of the room.

  Ryan was coming. The SEALs were coming. She had to be ready, even if she didn’t have a weapon. She turned again and the light spilled over the floor. Something glinted beneath the bed. Something she hadn’t seen before. She hobbled over, hoping it was something she could use.

  Bending was an exercise in pain, but she bent as far as she could, stretched her arms out—and something metal tickled her fingers. She reached farther, wrapped her fingers around it, and pulled it out.

  A serrated steak knife. Chloe’s heart thumped. It wasn’t much, not compared to AR-15s and hunting knives, but it was something. A rusty, serrated, flimsy-as-fuck steak knife that had probably been left behind by whomever had once lived here. It would break if she tried to force it into anything solid—but it was a weapon, and that was more than she’d had before.

  Chloe didn’t sit on the bed. She thought about hiding beneath it but she decided there wasn’t enough room and she hurt too much to try. So she retreated to the corner between the bed and the wall and pulled her knees up tight, trying to disappear. It was a painful fit but she did it. Then she rested the knife on her knees until she could clasp it between them. She sawed her wrists back and forth, working the knife against the plastic zip-ties. And then, just when she was ready to cry from pain and frustration, the zip-ties broke and she was free.

  She gripped the knife in her fist, positioning it above her clenched knees, and waited. If anyone came inside, she would be ready. And now she had two free hands to fight with, even if she was in pain. She knew she wasn’t going to get far against a gun, but she might surprise someone enough to do some damage before they shot her.

  She hoped like hell it was Travis if so. She waited, listening, hoping and praying.

  And then, just when she thought nothing was going to happen, there was a shout. Gunfire sprayed the night and Chloe pulled herself tighter into the corner. She didn’t know who was firing but it was farther away than she’d expected. Her heart hammered, her brain whirled—and then she made a decision.

  She needed to get away. If Travis and his men were out there, using her as bait for Ryan, maybe they weren’t paying as much attention to her as they needed to do. Travis thought she was helpless. She was bound and he’d beat her, punched her, and broken her spirit—or so he thought.

  But she wasn’t broken. She was strong, and she had a powerful incentive to escape. Ryan. She needed him, and she needed to tell him he’d healed her. That she loved him and trusted him and wanted to be his woman for as long as he wanted her.

  Chloe pushed herself out of her corner. The gunfire was sporadic, but still farther away. That was a good sign. She clutched the knife in front of her and slipped toward the door that Travis had shoved her through a few hours ago.

  If she could just get into the woods, she could hide until Ryan found her. She slipped down the stairs and into the open, her heart thudding as she paused, the knife gripped in her fist. Nothing stirred. Nothing made a sound nearby.

  Chloe started to run. She hadn’t taken ten steps when she heard the click of a rifle behind her.

  “Chloe Jean, don’t make me blow you to kingdom come. You aren’t ready to meet your maker just yet.”

  She turned slowly, hatred bubbling inside her. She held the knife at her side, low where he couldn’t see it. He took a step forward. Then another.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “Away from you,” she growled. “I’m done with you.”

  He turned the AR-15—ArmaLite rifle, not assault rifle like most people thought—toward her. It was a scary gun, a gun that could cut her in two if he pressed the trig
ger and didn’t let go. Which he was capable of doing.

  “But I’m not done with you, Chloe Jean. What an uptight little bitch you are. Always thought you were better than me, better than everyone in Cedarville. You must have laughed your ass off when you drove out of town.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure whether to kill you or take you home and make you lick my boots for the rest of your life.”

  “Better kill me,” she growled. “Because I’ll never lick your boots.”

  He laughed. “You’ve gotten feisty. But I’ll beat that out of you given time. Women shouldn’t talk back to their betters. The Lord says so.”

  “Do not twist God’s word for your own purposes. You are no follower of God.”

  He started toward her. She stumbled backward, not sure if he was going to shoot her or grab her. But then she remembered the knife, the wooden handle sweaty and firm in her hand. Her pulse hammered but she told herself to wait.

  Wait, wait, wait….

  And then she swung the knife with all her might when he came within range. It landed with a sickening crunch into muscle and bone.

  “Fucking bitch,” Travis cried out. “I’m going to kill you.”

  Then he leveled the gun and Chloe turned her face away as if protecting herself from the heat of a fire. A ridiculously useless gesture since it wouldn’t stop his bullets from penetrating her brain.

  Her last thought was Ryan. She hoped he found someone who appreciated him much faster than she had. He deserved that. He deserved the best.

  Ryan heard a male voice cry out in anger. It came from the vicinity of the cabin. “Fucking bitch, I’m going to kill you!”

  He’d been working his way through the line of James’s militia, taking them down one by one with his teammates, when that angry voice cut into his thoughts and whipped his head toward the sound.

  “Go, Dirty.” It was Viking’s voice in his ear.

  That was all he needed to hear. Ryan took off at a run, heading for the two heat signatures near the structure. The larger of the two stood in such a way that indicated he—it had to be male by the size—was holding a weapon on the other, much smaller figure. Ryan didn’t slow. He ran as fast as he could toward the larger of the two. When he was nearly there, the figure turned—and Ryan plowed into him, knocking him to the ground. The weapon he’d been holding discharged. An AR-15 by the sound of it.

  Ryan wrenched the gun from his grip, jerked the strap free, and flung it away. The man beneath him screamed obscenities. Ryan punched him in the face until the man stopped.

  “Get off him,” Chloe growled. He knew it was Chloe from the sound of her voice. He jumped up, kicking the man beneath his feet, and faced her. She was holding the AR-15 he’d discarded. It shook in her grip, but she pointed it at the man on the ground.

  “Chloe,” Ryan said. “Baby.”

  She jerked. “Ryan?”

  “Yeah, honey. I’m here. I came for you.”

  “You have to move,” she said. “I have to kill him.”

  The man on the ground groaned. “Fucking bitch.”

  Ryan heard her growl again. “Asshole,” she grated. “Fucking asshole. You deserve to die. You think you’re a big man, but you’re not. You’re nothing. That man right there—the one standing over you—he’s more of a man than you ever thought of being. He has more honor in his little toe than you have in your entire fucking body. And he’s never hit me. Not once. Only sad little pussies need to hit a woman. And you are one sad. Little. Pussy,” she grated.

  “Chloe,” Ryan said, stepping sideways away from Travis James. “Honey. You don’t need to shoot him. You shouldn’t shoot him.”

  “He’ll keep coming for me,” she said. “He’ll never give up. He needs to die.”

  Travis James groaned. “Fucking bitch stabbed me. Don’t let her kill me. I need help—it hurts like hell.”

  She’d stabbed him? Ryan’s chest swelled with pride. “Baby, you stabbed him? Good on you. Seriously. But don’t pull that trigger. You don’t want the burden on your conscience. Trust me.”

  She didn’t lower the weapon. It stayed pointed at Travis. “You kill people. It’s your job, Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because you aren’t trained for it, honey. Because you’re a sweet, adorable, sexy woman and you don’t want this kind of thing weighing on you. This man is scum. Worse than scum. You shoot him and it’s going to hurt your heart. Because you’re better than that.”

  The weapon dropped a little. He took a step toward her, his hand out.

  “Ryan,” she said softly. “I think I love you.”

  Everything inside him went still. His heart swelled. His pulse beat in his brain. She loved him? He loved her. With everything he had. “Chloe. Baby. I fucking love you like you’re the air I breathe. You’re the most important thing in the world to me. I’d move heaven and earth to keep you safe. I’d trade my soul to the devil for you.”

  He thought she sniffled. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to do that.”

  He took another step toward her. “Give me the gun, baby. Let’s go home.”

  She lowered the barrel. He closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her. She buried her face against his chest and started to sob. His heart cleaved in two for her and he wrapped her up in a hug.

  “Whore!” Travis James yelled. He jerked a pistol from a holster at his waist, swinging it up so he could take a shot. Ryan reacted with the precision he’d learned through countless missions. He shoved Chloe behind him in one smooth move and drew his Sig. Then he opened fire.

  James dropped to the ground and didn’t move again.

  Twenty-Four

  “Goddammit, Dirty,” Mendez said. The CO was standing in the waiting room at Riverstone, hands on hips, eyes flashing fire. “Did you have to fire on the motherfucker?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ryan said. “He had a pistol and he was about to fire on us.”

  Mendez shook his head. “Jesus H. Christ. It’s the goddamn militia and now I’ve got to smooth the whole fucking thing over so this doesn’t get out.”

  Ryan and his team were all there. No one said a word as Mendez paced and cursed. Ryan exchanged looks with his teammates. Neo shrugged. Viking frowned. Their asses were on the line but Ryan didn’t think any of them regretted it. They’d gotten Chloe back. She was bruised and battered but she was alive. Ryan was trying to focus on that part, but the way her face swelled and the way she moaned when she moved tore his heart into jagged pieces.

  Killing hadn’t been good enough for Travis James. Torture might have done the trick, but it was too late now. The bastard was dead and there was no coming back from that. A double-tap to the brain had removed him from the gene pool for good.

  Mendez stopped pacing and glared at them all. “That was some R&R you SEALs had. Team bonding camping trip, was it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Viking said.

  Mendez shook his head. “Twenty militia members. Nine SEALs. That’s not a fair fight.”

  “No one else was hurt, sir,” Viking said. “At least not physically. Their pride maybe.”

  “Fine.” He raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “You fuckers did good getting Miss Evans out of there. I’ll fix it on this end, though it’s going to be a pain in the ass. Would have been nice if you could have used his own gun against him instead of yours, Dirty. I guess I should be thankful it wasn’t your service weapon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ryan said.

  “I swear you boys are going to be the death of me. If it’s not HOT, then it’ll be Kat and the baby. Between all of you, I don’t get enough sleep,” he muttered.

  The door opened and Ian Black strode in, grinning broadly. “Hello, ladies. Oh, and you too, Colonel. Or is it General now?”

  “Put the star on last month,” Mendez said.

  “Ah, well, congrats. How’s our girl?”

  Mendez growled. Ryan didn’t know everything about that situation, but a
pparently Mrs. Mendez had once been a contract employee of Ian Black’s. She was also a very beautiful woman, and the general was clearly a protective husband. Ryan understood. If the general felt even half what Ryan felt for Chloe, Ian Black was playing with fire. Which he probably knew.

  “Kat’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

  “Wonderful. Now how can I assist you people today?”

  Mendez’s gaze gleamed speculatively. “You offering to help smooth out this situation, Ian?”

  “Anything for my favorite marine animals and their fearless leader. You didn’t think I’d abandon you to it, did you?”

  “Never sure,” Mendez said. “You’ve got a perverse sense of humor sometimes.”

  Ian put his hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, Johnny. After all we’ve meant to each other.”

  Mendez arched an eyebrow. “How about we go get a cup of coffee in the cafeteria and discuss it?”

  “Lead the way, mon général.”

  The two of them disappeared down the hallway. Ryan looked at his team. “You think they can make this go away?”

  “Yeah,” Blade said. “I definitely do. Look what they did for Quinn and me.”

  “They’ll fix it,” Viking said. “And even if they don’t, it was fucking worth it.”

  Ryan loved these guys. So damned much. They’d put their careers on the line for him. For Chloe. That was what family did. He’d always felt like he’d been abandoned by those who were supposed to love him—his mother. His father, even if he’d been trying to take care of Ryan by leaving him with Aunt Becky. Megan. Even Kurt, who’d married Megan and ceased being his best friend because of it.

  But this—these guys—was what family truly was. A collection of people who had your back no matter what. He had his Aunt Becky. His SEAL brothers and his HOT family. And Chloe.

  She’d said she loved him. His heart swelled so full it hurt. God he loved her, too. So much. It was driving him crazy to have to wait to see her, but Dr. Puckett had barred them all from her room for the moment. Which meant he was staying right fucking here until she let him in.