SEAL Warriors

by Katie Knight

  She ignored his crestfallen look and grabbed several packages of four- to six-month onesies off the rack instead. She couldn’t afford to let Jack Williams back into her heart again. Not with all the chaos going on around her right now. She needed to concentrate on her future and her daughter’s welfare, not the hot man who’d just fallen back into her life.

  “What about these?” Jack held up a pink camo two-piece outfit with a top and pants in one hand and a glitter unicorn sundress in the other. “The camo reflects her daddy’s tastes and the unicorn represents her mommy.”

  Sam couldn’t help laughing now. “You think I’m a unicorn?”

  “You ran with me through the dangerous streets of Costa Rica with the greatest of ease. You avoid semi crashes in a single swerve. You appear out of nowhere to disrupt my existence. Yep, I’d definitely say you’re a magical beast.”

  Warmth swelled inside her, despite her wishes to keep her distance from this charming, irritating man. “Fine. I’m a unicorn. I’ve always loved horses. When’s the last time you and your SEAL buddies ran around in pink camo though?”

  Jack chuckled. “Well, we did have that one mission in Istanbul that required us to dress as women to infiltrate the bazaar, so…” He held the small outfit up in front of his broad muscled chest, drawing Sam’s attention to his smoking hot body. Her temperature ticked a few notches higher. “I looked pretty good in fuchsia and gold, if I do say so myself.”

  She swallowed hard around the sudden constriction in her throat as memories of that long-ago night in Costa Rica flashed back into her mind. Him entwined in the sheet, wearing nothing but a grin. The soft light of dawn creeping in through the shuttered windows the next morning, casting his magnificent naked form in shades of pinks and golds. Yep. He’d looked pretty damned fine indeed. And that voice of his, deep and dark and rich as fine chocolate. Yummy.

  Except, no. She had no business thinking about his body or his voice or anything else.

  Jack was helping her out tonight. That was it. Nothing else would happen between them because nothing else could. Period. The end.

  “Yeah, fine,” she managed to squeak out at last. “Let’s get those and get going. Glory’s going to need to be changed and fed soon and I don’t like being out in the open this long either.”

  They headed up to the registers at the front of the store to pay for their purchases. She and Jack helped to get their stuff up onto the checkout conveyor belt as the cashier rung them up. They both reached for the same jars of baby food at the same time, his fingers brushing hers and sending sparks of awareness zinging through Sam’s system.

  “Sorry,” she said, pulling away fast, as if she’d been burned.

  “No need to apologize.” His eyes met hers and held, the air between them taut with unspoken things. “Look, Sam. I realize this is awkward as hell, but if I’m going to help you, we need to be able to trust each other. We’re a team now, right?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Were they a team? She’d not really planned on that. Even before going into witness protection, she’d learned to do for herself, learned to be alone, since she couldn’t bring herself to rely on anyone else. Trust had been eliminated from her vocabulary, thanks to her dad. Now here was Jack, asking her to do a one-eighty, and let him help.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, rummaging around in her bag for her wallet. With what she’d earned at her last place by working in a local medical lab at the hospital, she’d managed to save up a tidy nest egg in case of emergencies, and this definitely constituted one, in her opinion. “I mean I’m grateful and all for your help tonight, but you really don’t need to get involved.”

  “Like hell I don’t,” he said, handing his credit card to the cashier before Sam even had her wallet open. He glanced down at Glory again, then met Sam’s gaze. “She makes me involved. No matter what. You can’t just tell me I’ve got a kid then expect me to not have feelings and questions about that. No.” He took his card back from the cashier and shoved it back in his wallet before pushing the cart forward to load the bags inside. “I mean, Glory’s my responsibility now too and until this whole situation with…” he hesitated and looked around, lowering his voice before continuing, “…with you know who, is over, I’m sticking around. Just try and get rid of me. Go ahead. I dare you. I’ve got years of tactical training and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  The challenge in his tone made her hackles rise, but damn if the guy didn’t have a point. She grabbed several bags and shoved them into the cart beside his. She could take off on her own, but that wouldn’t really solve anything, since she still had no idea who to trust in the US marshal’s office. And Jack’s skills would come in handy right now too, with who knew how many of her father’s goons on her and Glory’s tail.

  Until she got settled and got a new identity in place, she needed help to guard her back and protect her daughter. And who better to help her with that than an ex-SEAL with a vested interest in keeping her and Glory alive?

  As she grabbed the receipt from the cashier then wheeled the cart outside, following Jack, Sam came to a decision. Fine. If Jack wanted to help them, okay. Yes, it would put him in harm’s way…but he was a grown man and could make his own choices. He knew the danger, knew full well who her father was and what he was capable of. It that didn’t scare the guy off, then so be it. Meanwhile, Sam would keep her head clear and her heart out of the equation. And if Jack got to know his daughter a bit better in the process, all the better.

  It could work. It would work. Because she had no other choice now.

  Jack loaded their stuff into the back of the SUV while Sam got Glory’s car seat secured in the back, then they both climbed into the vehicle and Jack started the engine.

  “So you love horses, huh?”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. She did, but it had been years since she’d ridden. At first, because it had been too painful a reminder of her mother, and later because there’d been no time and no horses around at Northwestern, where she’d gone to college. Jack kept looking at her expectantly, so she had to say something. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Good to know. I don’t have any on my farm, but my neighbor does. Maybe I’ll give him a call and see if you can ride one.”

  Sam forced a smile. “Sure. Sounds great.”

  He narrowed his stormy gray eyes on her, his face shadowed from the overhead light of the parking lot. “You’re not going to run off alone again tonight, are you? I’m not the super hero I was back in Costa Rica, but I’ll help you sort this out as best I can, if you’ll let me. Deal?”

  Sam stared at his extended hand, her pulse pounding and her mouth dry. Finally, she took his hand, and gave it a firm shake, ignoring the feel of his warm skin against hers. “Deal.”

  7

  Stefan Engel gazed down from the window in his office on his enormous estate outside of Chicago. Things were not going to plan. He hated it when things didn’t go to plan. Finding good help was so hard these days. He cracked his knuckles, nervous and angry at the loose ends that had been left untied.

  It was especially galling to have his worst loose end be his own daughter. There’d been a time when family meant something, when loyalty was prized above all else. When a man could depend on his children to have his back. When he’d been young, his father had laid down the law for Stefan and his brothers, had beaten the lessons of honor and loyalty and discretion into them until they’d never forget them. Stefan had risen through the ranks of his father’s gang until he’d reached the age of eighteen, when he’d left the family fold for bigger opportunities. He’d gone to New York, leaned from the best, most vicious crime bosses around, forged crucial connections and became a “made” man.

  Then he’d returned to his hometown of Chicago once his own father had passed, so he could take over the family business. Since then, he’d grown it into a multibillion-dollar enterprise, with diversified holding in everything from cocaine to weapons-grade pl
utonium. He’d provided for his wife—God rest her soul—and his children. He’d even donated to charities, for the tax write-off.

  Where had he gone wrong? Why had all his achievements not earned him the respect and loyalty he knew he deserved? Rage seared hotter inside him at the thought that his own daughter had betrayed him. Samantha. He’d clothed her, housed her, given her the best of everything growing up, and this is how she repaid him.

  By turning state’s witness against him. By laying his secrets bare to the world.

  It was despicable. It was disgusting. And in her case, it should’ve been deadly.

  Samantha Maria Engel. Who had her mother’s eyes and her father’s intelligence.

  He still remembered the first time she’d called him Daddy.

  Now he was forced to take her life to save his own.

  It would’ve been funny, if it wasn’t so tragic. He’d always warned his children when they’d gotten in trouble growing up that he’d brought them into this world and he could take them out too. Guess now it was time to make good on that promise.

  Except he’d been trying—for months now—with no results. Countless hours searching. Endless money spent on bribes, and for what? Dammit. He’d wanted this to be over and done with, cleanly, without any repercussions that might fall back on him and make his already terrible situation even worse. But no.

  Instead, his daughter was still alive and running free God only knew where, ready to tell her story to anyone who would listen. All because of the incompetent idiot sitting on the other side of his desk. Stefan didn’t handle incompetence well.

  Time to take care of business yet again. He should’ve handled things himself the first time to ensure it was done right. Now, he had a mess to clean up. With an aggrieved sigh, he took a seat in his leather-bound chair and leaned back, clasping his hands atop his stomach, the expensive wool of his tailor-made blazer soft against his skin.

  The US marshal fidgeted inside his cheap black suit, his face pale in the weak moonlight streaming in through the windows behind Stefan. He’d left the lights off for a reason.

  “Explain to me again why you failed to complete your assignment?” Stefan asked, his tone cold.

  “I tried, sir. I did. But it all went sideways and by the time I got back outside, the girl had fled.” The agent’s voice trembled slightly, out of fear or sadness, Stefan couldn’t tell. Nor did he care. He’d spent good time and money blackmailing this man and threatening to kill his family, all in order to ensure he’d turn on his own partner and murder Samantha. Now it was all wasted. “I did the best I could, sir—”

  “But your best wasn’t good enough, was it?”

  There was an audible click in the room as the agent swallowed hard. Stefan smiled in the darkness. Good. The man was scared. He should be.

  “Please, sir. Please don’t hurt my family.” The agent’s voice caught again, wavered, as he begged. “My boys are only three and five. Please don’t. I’ll do whatever you ask me to do. Please.”

  “Yes.” Stefan steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips. “I know you will.”

  Leverage. Life was all about leverage and Stefan held all the cards in this situation. Now, he just needed to decide how best to play them. “I’m a generous man, agent. I’ll give you one more chance. But if you screw things up again, that’s it. Understand?”

  In truth, Stefan was a greedy bastard. He rarely gave second chances at all, but in this case he was desperate. He hated being desperate. He’d worked damned hard all his life. The fact his own flesh and blood and put him in this predicament infuriated him, but there was no choice. If Sam managed to testify against him in court, he’d lose everything.

  Stefan had no intention of ever letting that happen.

  “I want you to find my daughter again,” he said, his voice low enough that the agent had to lean forward in order to hear him. If Stefan had his way, the idiot would be kneeling at his feet, as he should for the kindness of letting him and his pathetic family live another day. “And when you do, I want you to kill her. No mistakes this time, no evidence that could be traced back to me. Understand?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” the agent stammered. “But—”

  “No.” Stefan was up and around the desk before the other man could react. He grabbed the agent by the collar and hauled him up nose to nose with him. “No buts. No excuses. You eradicate this problem for me or I will exterminate you from the face of this earth. Do I make myself clear?”

  The guy looked so terrified, Stefan was sure he’d soiled himself.

  The though made him grin.

  So sad. You’d think the federal government could find applicants with some spine. They should contract the work out to him. He’d handle things properly. He tightened his grip on the man’s collar until the guy was clawing at his hand for air, his feet dangling uselessly in the air. Stefan might be close to sixty now, but he kept in shape. He could best this guy, hands down. He had a good four inches, and at least fifty pounds of muscle on the guy. In Stefan’s world, might definitely meant right.

  Just when the guy was ready to pass out, Stefan let him go, watching with satisfaction as the agent sagged limply into the chair behind him. The agent rubbed his neck and coughed, wheezing in the quiet room. “I’ll need time. These things need planning and you wanted discretion, right? I’m not used to working on this side of the law. My job is to protect these people, not take them out.”

  “I don’t care what your job is. Your task now is to do what I say, when I say it. And you have a week to get this done.” Stefan resumed his seat and gestured to his henchman hidden in the shadows of the office to come get the idiot. It was time for him to go. “My trial starts tomorrow. I don’t want these loose ends interfering with things. Understand? Do not disappointment me this time, Agent Meade. You won’t like how I deal with disappointment.”

  With a wave of his hand, Stefan had the agent hauled out of his office. He sank back into his chair and stared at his reflection in the window behind him. This wasn’t his first rodeo. When a man decided to live his life on the edges of the law, there were bound to be instances where he got caught. Over the years, Stefan been through more trials than he could count. But this one felt different.

  Maybe it was because he was getting too old for all this. He’d turn sixty-one next year.

  Maybe it was the fact that his old attorney had retired a few years back and left the practice to his son—Stanley Pyle, Jr.—a man Stefan didn’t trust and didn’t respect. But he stayed with the guy because he knew all of Stefan’s secrets and had sworn an oath to protect them. Recently though, Stefan had had the feeling perhaps Pyle wasn’t as loyal as he should be. Once this trial was over, he planned to make sure the wily little man knew what was what.

  Or maybe it was because, for the first time since Stefan had struck out on his own, he was alone.

  Even his henchmen were keeping their distance at this point. He couldn’t blame them. He’d have done the same in their position. If things didn’t go well with this trial, they’d fight like dogs in a butcher shop for his prime cut of the mafia’s business in this area and not stop until a new boss had taken Stefan’s place.

  For now, though, Stefan was still in charge. And as long as he had the means and the will, he’d hold on to what he’d worked and sacrificed for with the last breath in his body.

  8

  “Sorry the place is kind of a mess,” Jack said, pushing inside his restored nineteenth century farmhouse. He’d taken great pride in doing most of the work himself after he’d gotten home from his time in SEALs. Working with his hands helped keep him busy and keep his mind off the past. He hadn’t been expecting company tonight, obviously, so thing were a bit disorganized inside. Dirty dishes in the sink, mail and papers scattered on the kitchen table, stuff like that. When he was still in the service, he was a stickler for neatness. But when you lived alone, or had to get up early to feed the cows, sometimes things got lax. He held the door for Sam and Glor
y, then closed it behind them before setting the bags of things they’d purchased on the overstuffed sofa in the living room. He’d decorated the place for comfort, with lots of sturdy wooden furniture and comfy leather cushions. And speaking of feeding the cows…

  “I, uh, need to run back out to the truck and unload my feed so I can give it to my cattle,” he said, hovering near the door. “Make yourself at home. I’ll lock the door, so you don’t have to worry about anyone walking in while I’m gone.”

  She turned and looked at him over her shoulder while she fiddled with Glory’s car seat to get her out. “So, you’re a real farmer now?”

  Jack shrugged, heat prickling up from beneath the collar of the T-shirt he wore under his plaid work shirt. He loved farming, even if the gig was just part-time for him until he found a teaching job, and wasn’t embarrassed by it at all, but he knew outsiders sometimes took a dim view of those who worked the land. Sam was from Chicago, a big city, and while she might’ve moved around a lot the past year or so because of her father’s trial, he didn’t miss the slight hint of surprise in her tone. Whether it was good or bad surprise, he wasn’t sure yet.

  “I’m trying my hand at organic sourcing,” he said, by way of avoiding a direct answer. Organic foods were all the rage now, and he hoped it might up his cool factor with her. Then again, he shouldn’t really care what she thought about him or what he did for a living. Still, he did. “My dairy cows are part of that. That’s why I was out tonight. They ran out of the special feed I give them, so I had to run down to the farm store to get more. I happened to see your car on the way back and…”

  His voice trailed off as he realized he was babbling.

  Cool, dude. Real cool.

  Sam took Glory out of her carrier then turned to face him, the baby over her shoulder. “Go. Do what you need to do. I’m not planning on going anywhere. Not yet anyway.”