by Posey Parks
DEEP SEAL
POSEY PARKS
Licenses Statement
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COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2019 by Posey Parks
Published by Posey Parks Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
I’d like to thank all my readers for reading my books. The emails, posts, and messages always mean so much.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
AIDEN
Many nights I hid in the shadows waiting to trample our enemies. Peering through a sniper rifle, I marched forward. Our unit moved as one toward the tan brick structure. I held my weapon tight, peering through the sniper scope. A bullet zipped past my ear penetrating Simmons armor. He fell to the ground clutching his throat. I dragged his body to the side of the house.
“Don’t you die on me, man.” I scanned the perimeter. “Carter, stay with Simmons. Deeds and Tula, cover the rear. Jackson stay close.”
“Yes, sir.”
I was the youngest commander to lead a team of Navy SEALs Special Operatives in the war against terror. My marksmanship saved the lives of my men many times. I stared at the three men holding position inside the doorway through the night vision goggles.
Pip, pip, pip.
The bullets flew through the air. The men toppled over.
“We’re on the move.”
My men followed closely as we crept inside. I glanced at the three dead men and continued to the end of a wall. I held up my fist and my men halted. They waited for their next order. I motioned two fingers to the right. Jackson ran across the open walkway to the wall on the other side.
“Cover me,” I ordered.
My men nodded, holding position, peering through their sniper scopes. I ran through the corridor, rifle held high picking off one enemy after the other.
“Move in.”
“Copy that,” stated Deeds.
On the helicopter ride back to base, Admiral Cutner said our mission was a success. We apprehended the target. The mission was anything but successful. I lost a close friend in battle. Simmons didn’t make it. He left behind a wife and baby boy. Not a day goes by I don’t feel like I let his family down.
∞
I never knew my father. My mother lost custody of me when I was one years old. She couldn’t sustain a stable home for a child because she abused drugs. After bouncing around in the foster system for four years I was adopted by Barry and Mary-Anne Wilder. Their son Valen was a year older than me. A smile curled my lips at the memory as I sat in my dental office staring out the window into the distance. They were good to me even if I wasn’t the best son. The hole in my heart couldn’t ever be filled. No matter how hard they tried to give me everything... it wasn’t enough. Why couldn’t my mother get clean and take care of her child?
I uncovered information about my birth mother once I became a Navy SEAL. My mother ran away from home at age sixteen. She gave birth to me a year later. Trying to find my father was hard. I needed to put my boots to the pavement and walk around the neighborhood where my mother lived. I’ve known for three years who my mother’s parents were, but I hadn’t tried to contact them. I dropped my face in my hands. Not sure why I didn’t contact my grandparents. They probably didn’t know I existed.
Men who were built like Sailors and thought like Sailors should be Sailors. That’s the line Valen, and I fell for when we were approached by a Navy recruiter in high school. After Valen graduated, he enlisted in the Navy. I enlisted a year after him. Barry and Mary-Anne didn’t understand why their sons needed to serve their country.
I told our parents, Valen and I wanted to train to become the best of the best, and serve our country.
The first three years in the Navy weren’t bad. Darkness reared its ugly head in the fourth year. I trained to become a Navy SEAL Special Operative. I guess it wasn’t all bad. I became one of the best SEALs. I could sneak and attack my target before they knew what hit them.
CHAPTER TWO
NADIA
DRIVING THROUGH THE perfect modern town I smiled, remembering how far I’d come. Hard to believe I was in a good place. Three years ago, my life was a wreck. My friends and I partied every night. We popped pills. Oxycodone was Katie’s drug of choice and Vicodin was mine. My best friend Katie died in my arms. She overdosed on oxy. Tequila and pill popping were a thing of the past.
After I graduated from college, we moved from Boston, Massachusetts to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.
I guess you could say I ran the moment my problems became real. Or, I was smart enough to walk away from my remaining troubled friends. Despite the drugs and parties, I graduated magna cum laude. If I wasn’t acting a fool in my spare time, I would have graduated summa cum laude Maybe school was too easy.
My parents worked for the IRS until I was twelve. They withdrew half their retirement savings to open their first public accounting office. They prepared taxes for low-income families. I learned how to prepare taxes when I was sixteen years old. That was when my love of numbers began. Before we knew it, offices popped up all over metro Boston, Maine, and Virginia. My brother George ran the family businesses back home. Staying to help wasn’t an option. Maybe one day I’d return and help my brother.
I LOOKED FORWARD TO sunny days and relaxing evenings in my new town. My parents bought two properties in two different retirement communities. One property for them and the other for me. I know what you’re thinking. What twenty-three-year-old woman would move with her parents to a retirement town? One with a checkered past that’s who.
“Good morning, Donna. How are you?”
“I am well thanks for asking.”
“Claudia Vanquez isn’t in today. You’ll need to handle her accounts.” She placed a manila folder in my hand.
Handling other accountants’ files was common, yet still dreaded. I had my own workload. This means I had to work twice as hard.
“On it, Donna. I will be in my office if you need me.”
I waved at several other coworkers as I strolled across the office toward the coffee machine. Caffeine was my refuge. The strong, dark roast dangled under my nose. I inhaled all of its goodness with my eyes closed. Better get a move on.
An hour later, I opened the mini blinds in my office. Sometimes I worked better with minimal natural light. Stretching my arms, I yawned, then dove back into the spreadsheets.
“This can’t be right.” I said aloud.
I hunched over the keyboard glowering the computer screen. Claudia’s books were off. Some of the company’s office spaces reflected they were rented when I knew they weren’t. Every Saturday on my morning walk downtown Coeur d’Alene, I peeked into the window of an office space that was vacated six months ago by a Real Estate office. No one was currently renting that office. To play it safe, I copied the addresses
of the other offices. If they were rented who would pay such obscene rent? Ten -twenty thousand dollars a month for a small space. The typical rent ranged from twelve hundred to fifty-seven hundred a month depending on the size of the office.
I wrapped up work early today. Needed to avoid rush hour traffic.
“Donna, I am headed out. See you tomorrow.”
“Have a great afternoon, Nadia.”
The first property’s parking lot was desolate. I exited my charcoal gray Audi truck. The building was medium in size. Housed ten office spaces. I cupped my hands against the glass, peeking inside. Maybe I should take a closer look. I unlocked the door with the spare set of property keys I kept in my desk. Rarely had I used the keys. Mr. Grenache trusted I’d keep an eye on the properties from time to time. I strolled up and down the hall on the second floor, peeping into each office. The building was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Standing on the first floor, I rubbed my neck. “Hmm, all empty. Five more properties to go.”
∞
I gawked at the water streaming down the drive way forming a small lake along the curb outside my home. My neighbor’s sexy, hard-muscled, tall frame appeared from my backyard. The yellow button-down shirt was folded under his elbows over his thick forearms. I bet his thighs are like a body-builder under those khakis. He walked toward my truck as I rolled to a stop in the driveway.
“Good evening, neighbor.” He flashed his beautiful white teeth.
He rarely smiled. Why did he smile today?
He opened my door.
“Hello, Mr. Wilder. What do I owe the pleasure?” My high cheekbones heated.
He removed his aviator sunglasses, revealing his emerald green eyes. “Ms. Kerns, the water sprinkler was running all day again.” He sighed.
His clean-shaven face damn near called out to my fingertips. I’d love to stroke his angular, tanned jaw. This was the first time we’ve been face-to-face in such close proximities. Normally he’d ask I turn off the sprinkler system from his driveway.
Since my father bought the house, it was only fair I paid for the sprinkler timer. But I wasn’t sure how to install it.
Mr. Wilder’s huge frame towered over my five-seven frame. His woodsy aftershave dangled under my nose. I wondered how tall he was.
“Ms. Kerns, did you hear anything I said?”
His deep voice penetrated my core.
“Um. Yes of course. I know you and I discussed the timer on various occasions. And I understand you offered to install it.”
“But you don’t feel comfortable allowing me into your home,” he huffed, placing his sunglasses on top of his head, resting in his short dark hair.
“Ms. Kerns, pay someone to install the timer. Mrs. Bell continues to ask that I take care of your sprinkler system.” He walked toward his house next door.
“Sorry, Mr. Wilder. Thanks again,” I yelled out.
He tossed his hand in the air, never looking back and strolled into his house.
Nadia, you invite the drop dead, gorgeous neighbor into your home for dinner. It would’ve been the perfect way to get laid. He’s single, you’re single.
I glanced across the street, smiled, and waved at my little gray-haired widowed neighbor Mrs. Bell.
Mr. Wilder and I were the youngest residents living in the community. This was a retirement neighborhood. My social life came to a screeching halt after my best friend passed away. There wouldn’t be any wild parties. This was the best neighborhood for a person like me who wanted to walk the straight and narrow.
Why did super hunk choose to live in a retirement community? My eyebrow rose at the thought.
I drove my truck into the garage then walked into the house. The view of the sun setting from my patio was beautiful. That was where I sat this time of year. I threw my purse and brief case on the brown marble kitchen countertop.
Hm, I wondered if I had any of my mom’s meals in the fridge. Yes, my mother prepared my meals every other week. I couldn’t cook a lick. Staring into the fridge, I smiled. “One meal remaining.” My parents were headed on another vacation for two weeks. Back to TV dinners.
When my mother didn’t cook my meals, I ate salads, breakfast burritos or barely anything at all. My mother tried to teach me how to cook when I was a teenager, but I wasn’t good at setting the timers... hence the problem with the water sprinkler. Numbers were different. They called my name. I enjoyed number crunching.
The beef stew spun at turtle speed in the microwave. While my dinner cooked, I strolled up the wooden white staircase into the master bedroom. I kicked off my black stilettos in the master walk-in closet and discarded my clothes into the dry cleaner bag. I snatched my pink silk robe off the hanger and slipped it over my honey brown skin. My bare feet padded across the white slate tile bathroom floor. I turned the tubs hot and cold knobs, adjusting the water temperature. A hot bath was comforting in the winter or summer. After what I uncovered today, the bath would relax me and semi put my mind at ease. I ran downstairs and removed my stew from the microwave. The bay leaves, smoked paprika, ginger, and garlic escaped up my nose. This was one of my favorite dishes. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer. I scooped a hefty helping of the hot stew into my mouth. Strolling through the living room, I glimpsed out of the window. My neighbors big black Tundra with monster wheels sat in his driveway. What was he like?
Mrs. Bell called Mr. Wilder by his first name, Aiden. She said he’s reserved. Liked to keep to himself. He owned a children’s dental practice. Mr. Wilder didn’t exactly send off the warm and fuzzy bells. He was always so serious. I’m sure that smile today was because he was trying to be polite. He probably hated I was his neighbor. On my weekend morning runs, I noticed his cute children’s dentistry. There was never an excuse to drop in, so I kept moving.
CHAPTER THREE
NADIA
I strolled into the bathroom and turned off the water. Sometimes I’d peek out of my window into Mr. Wilders backyard. He sat on his taupe lawn chair, with a beer in hand watching soccer games on the big outdoor screen TV. The meat simmering on the grill drove me crazy. I almost invited myself over a few times.
I pinned up my thick wavy natural locks then emerged into the hot soapy water. Closing my slightly slanted eyes, I pinched the slender bridge of my nose resting my hand on the wide base and exhaled. My mother’s words resonated with me. She said I had the worst taste in men. Maybe because they were always high on whatever their drug of choice was that day. I’d brought a few guys around. My mother said until I could bring a man over who was serious about his life not to bother bringing any guys to dinner.
I wasn’t serious about being in a real relationship while in college. Nor did I think I’d ever be ready to settle down. I haven’t dated in a little over three years. What would we talk about? I know my love of number crunching. There weren’t any vices in my home. I could drink beer or the occasional glass of wine. I wasn’t interested in drinking hard liquor anymore. That craving hadn’t risen in a few years. The desire died shortly after my friend passed away.
Dating someone would require honesty about my past abuse of drugs. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to discuss my sordid past. Once the life of the party now she hid in a retirement community. I sighed. Nadia, think positive there has to be a guy out there for you. Preferably Mr. Wilder. Nope, nope. Keep the hot, tempting grizzly bear off your mind.
MY EYES SCANNED THE half empty parking lot. Typical Friday in Coeur d’Alene. This was golf town USA. I laughed inside as I entered the office. My boss could always count on me. I always dragged myself into work.
“Good morning, Donna.”
“How are you today, Nadia?” Her smile was bright and her gray eyes sparkled.
She leaned forward over her big desk. “Claudia isn’t here again today.”
My eyes widened, and I placed my hand over my face.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Another day of double work. Claudia owes me a gourmet coffee upon her retu
rn.”
We laughed.
“Nadia, I have to run out and grab one for the boss. I’ll grab one for you too.”
My hand flew over my heart. “Donna, you are a total sweetheart. You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s no problem at all. Think of it as the bosses treat. The order is on Grenache Accounting.”
“Well, you know where I will be. Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
I stalked into my office and immersed myself into my work. I’ll work on my files first then Claudia’s. I stared at the large computer screen. Hopefully, I won’t uncover anything else. If I do, I’d have to bring it to Mr. Grenache’s attention.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Donna peeked her head in. “I have your latte and apple Danish.” She walked toward my desk.
I stretched my hands out. “You are the best, Donna. You know I love a good Danish.”
She chuckled, placing the treats in my hands. “I do. And again, it’s no problem at all. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”
I smiled as she darted out of my office closing the door behind her.
Fifteen minutes later, I pushed back from the desk, stood, and extended my arms over my head. I rotated my shoulders and walked around the office with latte in hand. I closed my eyes, threw my head back, and exhaled.
“Back to work Nadia,” I said aloud, sitting behind the computer.
My eyes were glued to the company’s bank statements. Large transactions were transferred to various banks in the Cayman Islands and Swiss Bank system.
I jumped at the boisterous laughter of a few coworkers walking past my office door. What time was it?
The clock on my desktop read six thirty.
Shit, I’ve been cooped up in my office all day. I was so deep in my work I forgot to eat lunch.