by Tawny Weber
What the hell had just happened?
She scrambled from the bed, but they were already gone.
The curtains billowed in her open third-story window. Sticking her head out she looked down. Then up. The end of a rope disappeared over the roof.
“Security check my—eye.” So that was why he’d wormed his way into her room. It hadn’t been the Commander, but she was sure he had everything to do with this. “Ha! Ha!” she shouted in the general direction of the disappearing SEALs. “Very funny, guys.” She slammed the window shut. “Okay, I’ll get it fixed.”
All that trouble to prove a point?
Did he have to send his men to scare the pants off her? She wasn’t even wearing any beneath the thin T-shirt. Well, she would from now on. Feeling self-conscious, Tabby wrapped her arms around herself and only then realized she was shaking. Taking deep breaths, she managed to slow her rapid heartbeat.
She had no delusions about being able to defend herself against a group of SEALs. Not even with her martial arts training. If they’d wanted to hurt her... Well, they hadn’t. But she was fooling herself if she thought that had been about an unsecured window.
She was lucky she hadn’t experienced a blanket party. Or worse. No. The visit had been about getting rid of her. Now there was no doubt in her mind that they didn’t want her here. That he didn’t want her here. You’d think the man could at least do his own dirty work.
He didn’t have anything to do with this.
Or maybe she just didn’t want to believe he had anything to do with this. The adrenaline drained from her body and exhaustion washed over her. She leaned back against the wall for support. She’d stayed up late, working on the study. She was supposed to meet the Commander in an hour. She felt very tired. And very alone.
She looked around her stuffy little room and sighed. No more open windows. No more daydreams about a certain handsome Navy SEAL Commander. She couldn’t help it if he crept into her dreams at night, but she could keep him—and the others out of here.
Okay, back to her present dilemma. If he was responsible, where was he? And if he wasn’t, well, where the hell was he? They were his men.
What did she expect? A champion riding in on his trusty white steed. No, just a Navy SEAL in his black Dodge Viper.
In all her childhood fantasies, she’d been the sword-wielding knight-to-the-rescue. She didn’t need or want a man rescuing her.
Enough nonsense! She could take care of herself. She just had to remember to watch her back. Watch her heart. And shake the snakes from the bushes by making a lot of noise.
The alarm clock buzzed. Tabby jumped.
She hurried to the nightstand to shut it off. Then headed to the bathroom determined to face down all her dragons.
Alone, if she had to.
He’d challenged her to join him at 0500. She had half an hour to comply.
Switching on the bathroom light, she glared at her reflection in the mirror through a scrawled red heart. The words Get Lost were printed in the middle. She capped the discarded lipstick in disgust—her best shade—and chucked it in the wastebasket.
“Very funny.” Funny, she didn’t feel much like laughing. But she didn’t have time to dwell on the prank. It was only a prank after all. Meant to drive her away. She wasn’t going anywhere except to HQ. And if she was going to make it on time, she needed to hit the shower.
Stripping, she turned on the spray and stepped beneath the tepid water. The shower slowed, then sputtered. She played with the handles.
A burst of red heat hit her full in the face.
Tabby screamed and jumped back. Too late.
Red dye tinted her skin. Tainted water streamed down her body and pooled in the bottom of the stall before disappearing in a scarlet swirl.
Tabby held up her hands in horror.
She stuck them under the now clear water and scrubbed, rubbing soap along her skin. Her breasts. Her belly! The entire front of her body was red. She felt it on her face and in her hair.
It wouldn’t come off. Panic increased her desperate attempts.
She heard pounding on her door. Were they back to gloat?
“Tabby, open up. It’s Nydia. Is everything okay?”
Turning off the water, she grabbed a towel and ran for the door, dripping trails of red onto the carpet along the way. After peeking through the crack, she let Nydia in.
“Oh my God! What happened?”
“Those—those—Creepy Night Crawlers.”
“Worms?”
“Belly crawling, low-life snakes!” Tabby ran a hand through her hair.
Nydia’s expression confirmed the worst. “That’s some nasty dye job. It’s really red, girlfriend.” Tabby caught a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror. Clown-red hair stuck straight out from her head in uneven tufts. “What am I going to do?” she wailed.
She looked at Nydia. Nydia looked at her.
“Get even!” they answered in unison.
1313 Tuesday
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE CENTER,
Coronado, CA
Marc stopped pacing and stood in the middle of his office, arms akimbo. “Preach!” he bellowed, ignoring the intercom and letting his voice carry to the outer office. “Is she here yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you call over to the BOQ like I asked?”
“Every hour on the hour, Commander.”
Marc checked his watch. Where in the hell was she?
Lieutenant Chapel hadn’t just missed meeting his challenge. She’d missed morning muster. It was afternoon and still no sign of her.
Marc stormed out of his office. “If she comes in, she sits her butt in that chair and doesn’t move.” He pointed to a chair in the reception area.
“Got it...sir,” Perry added, retreating before him.
“She’s lucky I don’t write her up as UA,” Marc muttered, giving vent to his anger. Directing it at the missing Lieutenant Chapel wouldn’t help matters. There was a good reason he didn’t write her up as an Unauthorized Absence. More than likely she was Missing In Action. And his men had something to do with it.
They could be very creative when they wanted to be.
Like introducing the new Executive Officer to Super Glue. Though it had happened to Lieutenant Commander Kyle, Marc shuddered at the memory of the new Exec’s initiation, which had involved surgically removing a toilet seat. The man was still on leave, recovering. Hazing was one of those things he didn’t condone and the Navy no longer tolerated even though the practice was widespread.
He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it earlier. But now he suspected the worst. Though he doubted she was in any real danger, even pranks could get out of hand. In the back of his mind a niggling suspicion formed and he couldn’t let it go. The SEALs were daring her to stay.
The men had never bothered initiating him when he’d transferred from Team One three months ago. He’d worked with some of these guys before, trained with others. SEALs worked as closely knit units. His appointment as Commanding Officer created a new dynamic.
Had he somehow set himself apart from his men?
What had Lieutenant Chapel done to ingratiate herself? They were all pissed at her yesterday. Was he reading too much into her absence? Maybe it was a female thing. Like cramps. He winced.
He’d start by personally checking her room. If his search didn’t turn up anything, he’d grill every man within a breath of his life until one of them talked, beginning with Hugh.
Having a plan of action made him feel somewhat better. At least he was doing something aside from pacing a hole in his rug. As he strode along the passageway, Marc heard laughter coming from the men’s locker room. That wasn’t unusual, but he decided to start there, cornering them all at once.
“Have a nice workout?” he asked in general, stepping to the middle of the room.
Complete silence and covert glances followed his question. Most covered the need to keep their mouths shut by continuing to strip ou
t of workout gear.
The man who made all the decisions was an outsider. He could accept that. But he wouldn’t accept being ignored.
Hugh strutted past naked, toothbrush in his mouth. Marc noticed a fresh bruise along his rib cage.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“Back in D.C., I hope.” Hugh didn’t even pretend not to know what Marc was talking about.
A chorus of raucous laughter and comments followed. It sure didn’t sound like they’d dared her to stay. Marc frowned his displeasure at the inappropriate remarks, and several of the men moved toward the showers.
“Come on, Marc,” Hugh said, foaming at the mouth. “It was just a little harmless dye in her shower head.”
“If it’s so harmless why isn’t she here?”
“You know women.” Hugh spat toothpaste toward the floor drain. “She’s probably holed up in her room because she doesn’t want anyone to see her.”
Marc had his answer. The question was what was he going to do about it?
Hugh tossed his toothbrush in a sink and stepped into the nearest shower stall. He turned the spray and when nothing happened, he fiddled with the taps to increase the water pressure. “What the—” Green dye exploded in his face and ran the length of his body.
Several green bodies emerged from the showers muttering obscenities. Before Marc could say anything, firecrackers exploded in the locker room bay like gunfire. Men trained to react crouched in ready positions in their various stages of undress.
Heavy metal music blared over the intercom system. Lights flickered. Smoke bombs billowed into green clouds.
“Female on deck!” The acoustics of the tiled room allowed Tabitha’s voice to carry above the smoke-filled confusion.
Marc turned just in time to see her slipping in through the smokescreen.
She wore black knit from top to bottom. Sunglasses shielded her eyes. Gloves covered her hands. A scarf draped her head Grace Kelly style. She looked every bit the proud princess.
Awe struck Marc like lightning, fast and furious, leaving him breathless and electrically charged.
Toting a Supersoaker filled with who knew what, she stared him down.
“Back!” she ordered, though no one threatened to move. Marc could only assume it was because they were all stunned into immobility. Any one of his men could put her out of commission without even trying.
She kept a watchful eye on her backside, making her way to the row of sinks. Using lipstick, she scribbled the message “I don’t get lost, I get even” on the mirror above.
Then she pulled sunglasses down her nose and boldly appraised the naked men crowding the open bay.
“Lieutenant Chapel, my office!” Marc roared, remembering not a moment too soon he was the man in charge. “Hugh, you too. Get dressed first,” he said over his shoulder, shoving Tabitha toward the door on his way out.
To think he’d wasted his concern on her.
“Are you crazy? What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, dragging her down the passageway.
“I was—”
“That’s right, you weren’t thinking. Give me that.” He snatched the squirt gun from her.
A green-faced Hugh caught up with them. In uniform and out of breath.
“Park it.” Marc pointed her toward a chair outside his office, then ushered Hugh inside and slammed the door.
Tabby sat. Why was he all bent out of shape? She was the injured party. Righteous indignation surged through her. Too bad she hadn’t rigged his shower. But she’d only had enough time to install the dye packets in half a dozen of the showerheads before the instructors returned from their run.
Within seconds her vocabulary increased with words she never knew existed coming through the solid door. Her heart hammered. And she couldn’t stop fidgeting on the hard seat.
She darted a glance at Petty Officer Perry, who continued to type away, pretending not to hear the Commander’s tirade. But when the door opened, they both ducked as if expecting Lieutenant Leighton to come flying out
He did. But under his own power. There was a sickly cast to his already green face and an apologetic glint in his eye as he walked past her.
Marc stood in the doorway staring at her, his face as red as her own.
Dread filled Tabby, making her want to heave the uneasy contents of her stomach. If she’d bothered with breakfast she probably would have.
“Come in.” The calmness clashed with his angry color.
Tabby stood, caught the pity in Perry’s eyes, and skulked into the Commander’s office. Heart beating as if she’d just completed a hundred yard dash, she thought seriously about turning around and running from the room.
He closed the door and started pacing.
Tabby stood at attention. Waiting. And waiting...
The silence grew. She expected the tongue-lashing to start any moment and forced herself to hold her own tongue. Even though she really wanted to give him a piece of her mind for the role he played in rigging her shower.
Words will never hurt me. She repeated a portion of the silly childhood rhyme. She’d used it often enough when boys teased her about her gawky size. Despite the fact she was a better ball player, or because of it, they’d taunted her mercilessly every at bat she’d had as the only girl on the Little League team.
Her father had made her tough it out.
She’d never cried. Even though the words did wound the little girl inside.
And she knew the Commander’s criticisms would hurt. They’d made a grown man run from the room. Still, it went deeper. She didn’t want him thinking badly of her, although she knew he already did. And not because she’d gotten back at his men. Simply because her presence threatened his peace of mind.
Just like those boys of summers past, the Commander was unable to accept a girl on the playing field. Equality and ability meant nothing. Her study meant nothing. He wanted her out of the ballpark.
“At ease,” he said at last, settling into his seat. “And take off that ridiculous getup.”
Without thought of disobeying, she removed her gloves, then her sunglasses, and slowly unwound the scarf. She heard the sharp intake of his breath and met his gaze across the desk. Running a hand through her hair, she felt its unnatural stiffness. Who knew what he was thinking. Probably how ugly she looked. He already thought her uniform needed to be let out.
What did it matter what he thought?
She dropped her gaze to the items in her hands, forcing herself not to think about the horrific color.
“Are you crying?” he asked, his tone a quiet contrast to the gruffness of a moment ago.
“No,” she snapped, glaring at him through red-rimmed eyes. The dye covered her lashes and irritated her pupils. But she wasn’t crying.
“I can’t tell.” He sighed wearily, running a hand through his own hair. “I apologize for my men, Lieutenant.”
Tabby felt moisture pooling and blinked. It was only the chemical irritation. Then a lump formed in her throat.
Why wasn’t he yelling at her? That she could handle.
He plucked a tissue from the box on his desk and stood to give it to her.
She held herself rigid, rejecting the hand out.
He slipped it into her hand. “A little damage control.”
She fisted the tissue by her side, refusing to use it.
“Speaking of which...” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Producing a credit card and a business card, he offered them. “It’ll take more than tissue for this operation. Take the rest of the day off, Lieutenant.”
“I don’t need your money.”
“I’m well aware of that. Take it. I owe you.” He forced her to accept it. “Then you can keep the card for all those flowers and gifts you order in my name.”
Tabby looked at the second item in her hand, the business card. Curl Up and Dye. That sounded about right.
“I prefer the barber on base,” he said sheepishly. “But I think it’s just what
you need. I’ll call ahead. Once I explain the emergency, they’ll take you as a walk-in.”
“I’ll take the afternoon off, but if you’re trying to get rid of me, it’s not that easy.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Aren’t you?” The harshness of her words made it an accusation.
“No.”
“You knew about my window.”
“Yes.”
“And you spent Friday night in the BOQ parking lot.”
He was slower to confirm or deny. Her gaze held his.
She felt her heart sink to her stomach.
“Yes.” He turned from her, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I had my suspicions about Hugh,” he continued. “I take full responsibility for the actions of my men.” He faced her again. “But I didn’t order them to your room. And I sure as hell didn’t tell them about the window.”
“I want to believe you.”
“Then do.” There was a hint of pleading in his voice.
Her spirit lifted, soared, then landed back somewhere in reality. “I’ll think about it.”
In many respects the shower incident had served to calm her fears about predawn visitors. They were serious about getting rid of her. But they wouldn’t seriously hurt her. It was all just fun and games. No harm, no foul. The best part was, she’d gotten even.
“Female on deck?” he asked.
“It was fair warning for them to get covered.” She slipped on her sunglasses. “And Commander, expect a very large credit card bill.”
Chapter 9
1510 Tuesday
CURL UP AND DYE
Chula Vista, CA
Still covered by her black camouflage, Tabby splurged on a taxi to a strip mall where the driver dropped her off in front of the salon. It had a catchy name, a trendy look...and a pricey feel, she realized when she walked through the door.
The scarf and gloves hid her features, but drew attention, making her feel like a movie star traveling incognito. Without removing the oversized sunglasses, she gave the girl behind the counter her name.