The Reckless Warrior (Navy SEAL Romance)

by Jennifer Youngblood

  He turned to Delaney. “You okay?”

  She nodded, a stricken expression on her face, as she looked down at her wet clothes. He suspected from the glazed look in her eyes and her shaking hands that she was in shock, but thankfully, she hadn’t been shot. He leaned forward, his head going between the seats as he glared at Anton. “I thought you said the coast was clear.”

  Anton shook his head. “Sorry, man. I thought it was. I had no idea those guys were out there.”

  Corbin clenched his jaw. “The next time you tell me it’s clear, you’d better know it.” Had Anton not been driving, he would’ve finished the brawl they started earlier. And this time, there wouldn’t be any security detail to stop him from pounding Anton’s head. He gave Anton a long, hard look to let the man know he had his number before sitting back down in the seat.

  “Where to, Miss Mitchell? Back to your place?” Anton asked, keeping his eyes on Delaney, not daring to look at Corbin.

  Delaney turned to Corbin. “Is it safe?” The words came out screechy, tears gathering in her eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, shaking her head and wringing her hands.

  Corbin touched her ice-cold hands. “It’ll be okay. Look at me,” he commanded.

  She let out a soft whimper.

  “Look at me!”

  She turned toward him.

  “I’ll keep you safe. You have my word.”

  She searched his face, and even in the near darkness, he could tell she was trying to decide if she could trust him. Finally, she nodded, her shoulders relaxing a fraction.

  Anton glanced back at them. “Miss Mitchell, I took the liberty of calling my company. They have a team of bodyguards waiting for us at your condo.”

  “Thank you, Anton,” Delaney said, her voice strained.

  “I hope that was okay,” Anton continued. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to be safe.”

  Corbin’s senses jumped to full alert. When had Anton had time to call his company? There had been scarcely enough time for the man to get out of the mansion to the SUV. Corbin’s mind raced through the events of the evening. He’d noticed the server because Anton was watching her. He assumed it was because the woman looked suspicious, but what if it was because Anton was waiting for her to act? Anton told him the coast was clear when there were shooters all over the place. The man had to have noticed something. Had Sutton’s security team not come through the back and started shooting, Corbin and Delaney would’ve been goners.

  Delaney’s stylist had described the delivery man as muscular with a line tattoo on his wrist. Corbin leaned forward, trying to see, but Anton’s wrists were facing the steering wheel. He turned to Delaney and whispered. “How far are we from your condo?” She was about to speak when he put a finger to her lips. “Quietly,” he hissed.

  She looked puzzled. “About five minutes,” she said softly.

  His eyes locked with hers. “Do you trust me?”

  Concern washed over her as she started blinking. “W—Why? What’s happening?”

  “No time to explain,” he muttered. He whipped out his Glock and pointed it at Anton’s head. “Pull over.”

  Anton’s eyes bulged. “Are you crazy, man? I’m on your side.” He jerked the wheel, causing them to swerve to the right before he regained control of the SUV.

  Delaney gasped, looking at Corbin like he’d lost his mind. “What’re you doing?”

  “I said pull over!” he repeated, his voice cracking like thunder. He rammed the barrel of the pistol into the back of Anton’s head. “I won’t ask again.”

  “All right,” Anton blustered. “Miss Mitchell, this guy’s crazy.”

  “You’d better have a good explanation for this,” Delaney said through narrowed eyes.

  “Turn off the engine,” Corbin said when the SUV came to a stop. “Now!”

  Anton complied.

  “Hands off the wheel.”

  Anton turned to look at Delaney. “Miss Mitchell, this is ludicrous.”

  “Turn on the overhead light.”

  “I knew you were crazy at the bar. I should’ve busted your pretty face when I had the chance.” Anton flipped on the light, his eyes narrowing to black slits.

  “Now roll up your sleeves and turn your hands over, palms facing up.”

  Anton barked out an incredulous laugh. “You’re losing it, man.”

  It was at that moment that understanding registered on Delaney’s face. She squared her jaw. “Do as he says.”

  “Not you too. Fine, palms up. Want me to play patty cake next?” Anton sneered.

  “The tattoo that Gina saw. On the deliveryman that gave her the rose,” Delaney exclaimed at the same time Corbin saw the tattoo, realizing it was an arrow.

  Anton reached for his gun, but Corbin was faster. He jammed the pistol into Anton’s head. His voice was controlled, deadly. “Slowly, remove the gun from your holster. No sudden moves. I really don’t want to have to splatter your brains in front of the lady,” he said morosely. “Drop it on the seat,” he ordered when Anton held up the gun. He glanced at Delaney. “Get the gun. Do it!” he yelled when she hesitated. She leaned over the seat and grabbed it, then dropped it on the seat beside them like it was a hot coal.

  “Now the cell phone.” He grabbed it from Anton’s hand and placed it on the seat beside him. “How much did Hugh pay you to become a traitor?” Corbin asked, disgust churning in his gut. Hugh had been able to get to Delaney’s closest point of contact. No one could be trusted.

  “A lot more than your lady back there.” Anton rumbled out a laugh, his voice going vicious. “This world ain’t a big enough place for you to hide. He’ll find you. You too, pretty boy.”

  Corbin swore when Delaney sucked in a ragged breath. Stress was taking its toll. Her breathing was shallow and labored, and he feared she might start hyperventilating. Time was ticking away. For all they knew Hugh and his goons could be closing in any minute.

  He pointed the gun at Anton’s head. “Drive us to Sutton’s mansion. Any funny movements and you die!”

  10

  After a decent night’s sleep at Sutton’s mansion, Delaney was feeling somewhat better about her situation. Granted, she was still freaked out, and if she thought about it too much, her whole body would start to shake. On the upside, it was comforting to have Corbin by her side. Those first few moments when he put the gun to Anton’s head, she thought he was nuts. But if he hadn’t realized Anton was leading them into a trap, they’d be dead right now.

  Delaney had no doubt that the security detail Anton referred to, the ones waiting at her condo, were Hugh and his men. A shiver ran down her spine. How long could they keep evading Hugh? Were they just postponing the inevitable? And now, it was not only her life at risk but also Corbin’s. She hugged her arms, shaking off the fears. Better to try and focus on the positive.

  They were in Corbin’s SUV, headed to a shop to pick her out a wig. Corbin glanced sideways at her. “You okay?”

  An automatic smile plastered over her face—the one she used on stage to suppress the jitters. “Yeah.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  She turned in surprise. “What?”

  He glanced at her hands. “You keep digging those fingernails into your palms and we’re gonna have to get a set of pliers to pull them out.”

  She looked down, realizing she was clenching her hands. “Oh.” She opened her hands, which felt stiff from the tension.

  “You know, you’d be a whole lot prettier if you’d smile once in a while.”

  Her eyes widened, then she laughed, recognizing the lyrics of a popular song. “‘Lullaby’ by Shawn Mullins.”

  “Yep.” A smile slid over his lips giving him a boyish, mischievous appearance that was even harder to resist than his usual tough-guy expression. She allowed herself a moment to check him out. Her eyes slid over his rugged profile, the defiant set of his chin, his defined biceps, even more pronounced with him holding the steering wheel, his chisel
ed abs. She noted how the t-shirt and jeans seemed to be an extension of him.

  A dart of warmth shot through Delaney with enough force to heat the whole West Coast. Sheesh. Crazy that she’d be thinking about how good-looking Corbin was in the middle of a crisis. She angled toward him, curious to know more about the man who was throwing her for a loop and making her rethink her stance on steering clear of a relationship. “Are you a fan of folk rock?”

  “I like all types of music. Rock, jazz, country.”

  She pursed her lips. “Hmm … a man with eclectic tastes. Impressive.”

  A hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I’m glad you find something about me impressive. I was starting to wonder.”

  The comment broadsided her, rendering her speechless. There were many things she found impressive about Corbin Spencer, hence the problem. She could tell from his sly expression that he was teasing her, which helped relax her a little.

  He glanced at her. “You were amazing last night, by the way.”

  The compliment settled into her chest like a warm ray of sunshine. “Thanks.” Of all the people in the audience, she’d been most aware of him. It was gratifying to know that he’d paid attention to her performance.

  “You have such a unique voice. Where did you learn to sing like that?”

  “My mother loved to sing. From the time I was a kid, she was always strumming on her guitar and singing … mostly Top 50 Billboard hits. She taught me to play the guitar and would get me to harmonize with her.” Those were some of the few happy memories Delaney had of her mother—before she became so addicted to drugs that she couldn’t function. One of the darkest days of Delaney’s life was the day her mother sold her guitar to buy drugs. But she wasn’t going to tell Corbin that.

  “What was your mother’s name?”

  “Angie.”

  “Tell me about her.” Corbin’s voice was gentle, patient. Still, it touched a nerve.

  Her jaw tightened as she balled her fists again. “What do you already know about her?”

  “Facts, mostly that Sutton gave me.”

  She remained silent, waiting for him to expound. Why was she still so dang sensitive where her mother was concerned? Maybe she should just get it out in the open so it wouldn’t be hanging between them. She felt like she was on a high dive, trying to decide if she should go into the water gently or just plunge right in. “My mother was an alcoholic and druggie,” she blurted. “She never could hold down a steady job, so we lived off food stamps and what little we could scrape together. Sometimes, when we got desperate, she’d sing at a local bar for a few extra bucks. Unfortunately, she drank up the profits before it did us much good.” Resentment sat like lead on her chest as she stared unseeingly at the road in front of them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She nodded. “Thanks.” How many times had she heard those two empty words from well-wishers?

  “Tell me about your mother’s relationship with Hugh.”

  A surprised laugh gurgled in her throat. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have time to pull it out of you diplomatically. I need to know what type of person we’re dealing with.”

  The words tumbled out like bricks against a cement floor. “A manipulator, a devil with a black heart. The meanest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “So your mother and Hugh were romantically involved?”

  Her hand went to her throat. “There was nothing romantic about it. But yes, they were involved.” She spat out the words like they were poison. “Even though my mother was ten years older than Hugh, she was beautiful … looked about the same age as him. Hugh was our landlord. We never had money to pay the rent. I’ll let you figure out the rest.” The beginning of a headache formed across the bridge of her nose. “How much farther to the wig store?” She was ready to be out of the SUV to give her space from Corbin and his probing questions.

  “About ten more minutes.”

  Delaney turned away from Corbin and looked out the window, letting her mind get lost in the passing buildings. The plan was for them to get Delaney a wig, then drive thirteen hours to Birchwood Springs, Colorado, the small town Corbin was from. Corbin insisted on going there because he was familiar with the terrain and people. Sutton contacted Milo, letting him know that Delaney was being moved to an undisclosed location and would remain there until the situation was resolved. Delaney argued that she had an album to record and couldn’t lose any time.

  “You can’t record anything if you’re dead,” Corbin had said dryly.

  He was right, of course. Although it was chilling to hear it put so bluntly. Then again, Corbin wasn’t one to mince words. Obviously! “But what about my things?” she’d asked. “Can I at least go back to my condo and get them? I’ll need my guitar to compose songs.” If she was going to be stuffed away in some remote place, she wanted to at least do that. She could get the songs written, then record them all at once. That way, she wouldn’t lose too much time.

  Corbin had chuckled in amusement. “Are you listening to yourself? Going back to your condo would be a death sentence. Hugh has guys there waiting for you. Heck, for all we know, he could be camped out there himself.”

  The thought of Hugh Allen or his men invading her personal space, going through her things, sent a shudder through Delaney. She wished she’d never met the Allens. Wished she could run away from this and never look back. If only.

  In the end, Sutton had a complete wardrobe of clothes in Delaney’s size delivered to the mansion, along with a Gibson guitar. He even had a few items delivered for Corbin. Delaney argued that the nominal fee she was paying wouldn’t begin to cover the items, but Sutton dismissed her argument with a wave of his hand, telling her not to worry about it. From what Milo said, Sutton helped his girlfriend Leslie and her son, not asking a thing from them. It was obvious that Sutton Smith was not in the security business for money. Whatever his motivations, she was grateful he’d taken her on as a client.

  “How did you become a country music star?”

  The question jarred Delaney back to the present.

  “After Tuck and I got divorced, I took a job at the Bluebird Café as a waitress. My co-workers knew how much I loved to sing. They were always joking that I sounded better than most of the people who took the stage. One evening, a performer had an emergency. I stepped in at the last minute, and a well-known agent Max Gillespie happened to be in the audience and wanted to represent me. Things took off quickly from there. The next thing I knew, I was signing with Montana Crew’s record label.”

  “A rags-to-riches story,” he mused. “Do you know what the odds are that you would even get a job at the Bluebird, much less perform there? And then get picked up by an agent? Just like that? Wow. Incredible.”

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was lucky, I suppose.”

  “No, you’re good. Dang good.”

  “Thanks.” It was surprising how much his approval meant to her. She was just about to launch into a series of questions about his past when he turned into the parking lot of the wig shop.

  “We’re here.” He turned off the engine, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s see what we can find for you to wear, Delores.”

  She winced. “Dee,” she corrected. She was going to Birchwood Springs under the guise of Corbin’s girlfriend. She couldn’t use her stage name, so Sutton suggested she go by her real name Delores to keep things simple. She’d thought she’d buried Delores Millstead and didn’t relish the idea of digging her up again. But whatever, it was only temporarily. At any rate, she preferred the shortened version of her name.

  He grinned. “All right, Dee.”

  “What?” The intensity of his gaze burned through her. Sheesh. It was hard being in such a tight, enclosed space with Corbin Spencer. When he looked at her like that, she could hardly form a clear thought.

  “Delaney fits you better.”

  “Thanks. I agree.”

 
“But I suppose Dee will do, for now.”

  She reached for her door.

  He touched her arm, sending a buzz of awareness through her.

  “What?”

  “Let me get out first and come around to get you. Just to make sure.”

  She glanced around, shaking off a shiver. It was only six a.m. They’d passed very few cars on their way over, and there was only one other car in the parking lot, which presumably belonged to the person who ran the shop. “You don’t think anyone followed us, do you?” Her voice dribbled off, unease trickling down her spine. Sutton had leaked information to make Hugh believe she was being taken to a safe house in Northern Cal. The hope was that by the time Hugh realized he’d been led on a wild goose chase, she and Corbin would be long gone. She’d even turned her phone over to Sutton for safe keeping, just to make sure Hugh couldn’t somehow track her on it.

  “No, I don’t think we were followed. I watched as we drove and didn’t see anyone. But it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

  She nodded, biting down on her lower lip.

  Corbin came around and opened her door, keeping one hand close to his gun. Her skin crawled as she stepped out of the SUV. The empty air around them felt menacing, like someone could attack any second. She hated this! Feeling so vulnerable. She hated living in constant fear of what Hugh might do! Right after she was released from the hospital, after Tuck’s merciless beating that nearly took her life, she promised herself that she’d never cower to Tuck or his brother again. And here she was, running scared.

  It wasn’t until they stepped through the doors of the shop that Delaney realized she’d been holding her breath. She sucked in air, feeling a little dizzy. Her heart rate spiked when she realized Corbin still had an arm around her. She could feel his fingertips through the thin fabric of her blouse, loved the hardness of his muscular torso against her. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she looked up at him. She cleared her throat. “I’m okay now. You can let go.”