by Susan Stoker
“One of the things we had to do in training was a night swim. We all knew it was coming. It wasn’t a secret that it was one of the tasks we had to complete. We’d only been sleeping for an hour when we were woken up and herded into a small room. We were exhausted from all the hell we’d been through already, and the instructors droned on and on about how we’d never make the swim. That there were sharks out there waiting to take a bite out of us. They got us good and freaked out, then showed us a documentary about shark attacks.”
“Jeez, that’s s-sadistic,” Allye said.
“Yup. But it did what they wanted—two people quit right then and there. Which was their goal.”
“I thought they wanted people to become SEALs?”
“They do. But only the toughest men, both physically and mentally.”
“I’m not sure t-talking about sharks is the best idea right about now,” she commented dryly.
Gray chuckled. “Anyway, they told us that if a shark does come around when you’re swimming, all you have to do is bop it on the nose.”
“Oh, good Lord. That was their advice?”
“Yup. And during the swim, they swam us through these kelp beds. The stuff would lightly brush against our legs and totally freak us out. Of course, they didn’t tell us that sharks hate the stuff and won’t swim in them because they get stuck. But three more men quit in the middle of the ocean as a result.”
“I take it no one got eaten by a sh-shark,” she said.
“Nope. And you know what else?”
“I’m scared to ask. What?”
“That was actually one of the best experiences I had during the entire Hell Week.”
“Really? You’re crazy.”
He chuckled again. “They’d separated us, so we didn’t have our buddies to help us through that part of the training. We were on our own. It was actually peaceful and boring. And trust me, boring was good.”
“So you made it through and didn’t quit,” Allye prompted when he didn’t continue.
“Yeah. Was a SEAL for a while, and after an incident, I got a phone call from a man who called himself Rex.”
“The Latin word for king? Seems a bit c-conceited,” Allye observed.
“Ha. Right? That’s what I thought. But he told me he was forming a group who would do missions all over the country and world, similar to what I’d done for the Navy, except I’d be paid twice as much and wouldn’t have to answer to Uncle Sam.”
“S-Sounds s-sketchy.”
Gray didn’t miss the way her teeth seemed to be chattering more and more. “That’s also what I thought. But I was disillusioned after my service to my country for various reasons, and he’d explained what the team would be doing in such a way that I was interested. He instructed me to go to a pool hall in Colorado Springs for my interview. The rest is history.”
“Hmmm,” she said. “Somehow I doubt it was that easy.”
It wasn’t, but Gray wouldn’t go into more detail. They were only passing through each other’s lives. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, endanger the operation Rex had set up, even if he’d already told her more than he’d ever told anyone outside the group.
When she was silent for a long moment, Gray asked, “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” she answered immediately.
“Want to try again, and be honest this time?”
“I’m r-rolling my eyes,” she informed him. “Just s-so you know.”
“I figured as much.”
“I’m t-tired. And scared. And cold. And I honestly have no idea how we’re going to make it all the way to shore.”
“We won’t have to make it all the way to shore,” Gray told her, hoping the confidence in his teammate was coming through loud and clear. “My friend will come for us. We just have to hang on until then.” He knew they wouldn’t be able to swim the entire way. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to keep moving. Swimming would keep her warmer, and the promise of rescue would also hopefully give her a much-needed boost.
9:29 p.m.
Gray glanced at his watch. Time was moving extremely slowly, and he knew every minute that passed was one more minute that Allye didn’t have. “How about a game of rapid-fire questions?” he prodded when she hadn’t said anything in a short while.
“W-What’s that?”
“I’ll give you a choice of two things. You tell me which you prefer. Then you ask me a question. We’ll go back and forth.”
“You’re trying to d-distract me,” she guessed.
“Yup,” Gray admitted freely. “Look, you’ve been amazing. I’m impressed with how well you’re doing. I’m just trying to keep your mind occupied until my friend shows up.”
She sighed loud enough that he actually heard it over the sound of the waves. “F-Fine.”
“Great. Beach or mountains?”
“Right about now, I’d have to say m-mountains,” she quipped.
“Can’t say I blame you,” Gray said. After a second, he prompted, “Your turn.”
“Does it have t-to be a choice-type question?” she asked.
“No. Whatever comes to mind.”
“How many times have you done th-this?”
“This?”
“Rescued a woman like m-me.”
“None. There’s never been someone like you,” Gray said immediately.
She shook her head. Gray saw the white streak in her hair move back and forth. “No, I mean, how many m-missions have you been on where you rescued s-someone?”
“I don’t know,” he told her honestly. “I haven’t kept count. But I can tell you that, fortunately, there have been more where I actually got to rescue women than when I had to recover a body, or bodies.” He let that sink in for a moment, then added, “This wasn’t supposed to be a rescue mission tonight. You were a surprise.”
“Really?”
“Really. Our intel told us that there would be a transfer of money, and that the actual delivery of the package . . . er . . . you . . . wouldn’t be until later. The goal was to find out as much as we could about a man who’s been orchestrating a massive sex-slavery ring on the West Coast. A man named Gage Nightingale.”
“But instead you f-found me,” Allye said quietly.
“Instead I found you,” he confirmed. Then added, “Thank God.”
After a beat, she said, “Your turn.”
“What made you decide to be a dancer?”
“I always loved to d-dance, and when I moved to San Francisco, I was w-working as a waitress. It wasn’t exactly my d-dream job. I decided to take a dance class in my f-free time. The instructor recommended me to the lady who ran the d-dance theatre, and before I knew it, I was being offered a job there for way m-more than I was making at the restaurant. How old are you?”
“Thirty-six. You?”
“Twenty-nine. How tall are you? You almost hit your head in that r-room back on the b-boat.”
He chuckled. “Six-five.”
“Good grief. You’re a giant.”
He couldn’t help but guffaw. He really liked how she didn’t beat around the bush. “I’m not sure I would go that far. But yeah, I’m tall. You?”
“Five-seven. Personally, I think it’s a perfect height. I’m not so tall that I tower over people when I wear heels, but I’m also not so sh-short that everyone has to look d-down at me all the time. Present company excluded.”
He saw the flash of her teeth as she turned her head and smiled at him.
They continued with their game, asking nonthreatening questions back and forth. Getting to know each other. Creating a kind of bond that Gray never would’ve thought possible in so short a time. He knew it was a result of the situation they were in, but it still felt good.
Besides his mom and brother, he hadn’t felt so close to another person, so quickly, as he did Allye. Not even the men he worked with, which made him uneasy . . . though not enough to stop answering or asking questions.
But eventually their queries b
egan to trickle off. The time between each stretching farther and farther apart.
9:44 p.m.
“You okay?” Gray asked after glancing at this watch again.
He heard her take a deep breath, then she reached out, and her hand brushed against his back before grasping his biceps. He stopped swimming and started treading water, concerned.
“I’m tired,” she said quietly. “And c-cold. I don’t think I can m-make it.”
“Bullshit,” Gray said immediately. “You’re going to make it.”
“I feel as if I’ve been in a d-dance marathon for hours. My muscles are cramping, and I’m f-freezing. My mouth is like c-cotton, and I feel a little sick.”
Gray didn’t like any of that, but he refused to coddle her. If he did, she really wouldn’t make it. But he also couldn’t treat her as if she were a candidate in SEAL school. He’d prefer that she keep swimming, to keep her blood moving, but he didn’t want to exhaust her either. It was a delicate balance, and he felt that no matter what he did, he was making the wrong decision when it came to her.
“Hold on to me,” he told her after a moment, grasping her hand in his and bringing it down his body to one of the pockets at his waist. He wrapped her fingers around it. “You can lie on your back, and I’ll tow you.”
“That’s not f-fair,” she protested. “Besides, you have to be t-tired and cold too.”
“I won’t let you down,” he told her. “Trust me. I know myself. I’m fine. I could probably move faster this way than if you continued to swim next to me, anyway.”
“That’s probably t-true,” she murmured.
“If you relax enough, you could even take a catnap while I swim,” he said.
“But I wouldn’t be able to h-hold on.”
“I won’t let you drift away, kitten. Swear.”
“Okay. But . . . this isn’t like m-me. I’m usually the last to leave rehearsal.”
Somehow, he knew she wasn’t lying. She’d held up extremely well. He was impressed. “I know it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”
“Everyone I’ve ever asked for help has l-let me down,” she told him in a flat tone that he knew instinctively meant she wasn’t exaggerating.
“Well, after we get picked up, you won’t be able to say that anymore. Lie on your back, kitten,” he ordered. He helped support her with a hand at the small of her back. He drifted closer to her and made sure she had a tight grip on his dry suit. “Ready?”
“S-Sure. I’ll just lie here and nap.”
He smiled. “You’re rolling your eyes again, aren’t you?”
“Yup. C-Carry on. Take us home.”
Home. He liked the sound of that word coming from her lips, but he didn’t respond. He simply set out toward the rendezvous coordinates once again. It took him a moment to find a stroke that wouldn’t disturb her hold while allowing him maximum efficiency.
He fell into a smooth rhythm, and, interestingly enough, he didn’t feel tired at all. There was something about being one hundred percent responsible for the woman at his side that made him get a second wind. He hated that she had been let down by everyone she knew. He vowed that he wouldn’t be just another in a long line of those people.
Even if he was only in her life for this brief moment in time, it was important to him that she know he was reliable, trustworthy, and that he had her back.
For a second, he wished that he could be there for her for the rest of her life, but he pushed the thought back. It wasn’t possible, and she wasn’t his. Couldn’t be.
But for now, here in the middle of the ocean, they may as well have been the only people on the planet. She was his. He’d fight any shark that dared show its face, and he’d kill any other sex traffickers who might show up. He’d stand between her and the evils in the world to keep her safe.
Chapter Four
9:58 p.m.
Allye lay on her back and allowed Gray to pull her along. She had no idea how long they’d been in the water, but it felt like hours. Being in the middle of the ocean in the dark was terrifying.
She had one arm above her head, fingers clinging to one of the pockets on Gray’s dry-suit thing. He was swimming mostly on his side, using some sort of modified sidestroke to propel them through the water.
She hadn’t wanted to be weak and let him tow her, but she was exhausted, thirsty, and freezing. She had known she wasn’t going to last much longer trying to swim on her own. She’d been quaking with cold for a while, but now her shivering had tapered off, and even she knew that wasn’t the best sign. Their game of questions had worked to keep her mind occupied for quite a while, however. She’d learned a lot about her rescuer, and everything she’d heard, she liked.
Besides, he really didn’t seem to be tired at all. He didn’t sound tired, and wasn’t even breathing hard. She would’ve thought he was some sort of fake human, a prototype machine or something, except for the small grunts that escaped his mouth every now and then as he exerted energy to keep them moving through the water.
For some reason, when he’d vowed earlier that he was going to get her home, she’d believed him. It was stupid. She’d been kidnapped, thrown into a boat, and told all about how her new life was going to be spent locked up in a gilded cage under the guise of being “protected and revered.” She’d been informed she would “get to” continue dancing, that her new master loved the way she danced and had created his own venue, solely for her. Just the thought made her want to throw up. There was no way she’d ever perform for someone who had kidnapped her. She wasn’t going to be a circus sideshow. No way in hell.
Then, just when she’d thought she was going to drown, by some miracle, Gray had shown up and thrown her into the big, bad ocean. But he hadn’t left her. No, he was right there by her side every step—er, stroke—of the way.
“Tell me something else about you,” Gray said.
His words were muffled because her ears were underwater, but Allye still heard him. She tilted her head back to look at him as he propelled them forward. “W-What do you w-want to know? I thought we’d c-covered everything earlier.”
“Anything you want to tell me,” was his response.
Allye sighed. She usually hated personal questions, going out of her way to either give bullshit answers and completely lie, or give only bits and pieces of her past. But for some reason, she felt as if she owed it to Gray to be honest with him. She felt a connection with him. She knew it was because of their situation and because he’d rescued her, but it was a connection nevertheless.
Besides . . . what else were they going to talk about? It was pitch-dark, and she was bored. If she was bored, he had to be. She remembered him saying how tedious his night swim had been when he’d trained to be a SEAL. She didn’t want him to be bored. She wanted him to be alert and ready to bop any shark that might appear out of nowhere to try to eat her. Maybe he’d asked because he was getting tired and wanted a distraction.
They had to talk about something. Might as well be her shitty life.
Keeping it from him seemed silly now, when they’d bonded so quickly and easily.
“Do you b-believe in k-karma?” she asked before she started telling him her life story.
“Absolutely,” Gray said with conviction.
“I thought I d-did,” Allye said, turning her head to look back up at the dark sky. “I m-mean, I thought if I was a good p-person and did good deeds, that surely my life would improve.” She snorted, careful not to inhale seawater. “It’s all b-bullshit.”
“Tell me,” Gray ordered.
Allye closed her eyes. “I was born to a woman who didn’t want k-kids. But she thought if she had a baby, that would make the man she was with love her and want to be with her f-forever and ever. She told me that he left the week she b-brought me home from the hospital. She blamed me, of course. I cried all the time and was too d-demanding.”
“Fucking bitch,” Gray said, interrupting her.
Allye picked up her h
ead again and looked at him in surprise. He sounded extremely pissed off . . . and she hadn’t even started telling her story.
He caught her looking at him and said, “You were a baby. Crying and needing attention is what babies do.”
“True. I guess sh-she didn’t think it through,” was all Allye could think to say. “Anyway, so yeah, having a k-kid didn’t end up like she’d hoped. She barely tolerated having me around. I s-started school when I was four, simply because she didn’t want me underfoot and didn’t want to pay for childcare anymore. It was t-too early; I was the stupidest kid in my c-class.”
“Don’t say that,” Gray said, pausing in his swimming and reaching over to squeeze her arm.
Allye shrugged. “It’s true. I got b-bullied all the time because I was also smaller than everyone else. But that’s because my m-mom never bothered to buy the good food.”
“Good food?”
“Yeah. You know, the nutritious stuff. Oh, there was always shit like Oreos and ch-chips and hot dogs, but never fresh fruits and vegetables. I didn’t really know I should’ve been eating that k-kind of food until I got older.”
“I already don’t like this story, but I have a feeling I’m really not going to like whatever you say next, am I?” Gray asked as he began swimming again.
Allye chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. “I don’t know you well enough to say whether you will or w-won’t, but I can tell you that I don’t like this s-story.”
“Fucking hell. Go on.”
She rolled her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “You asked me to t-talk,” she reminded him. “I can shut up, and we can just coexist in s-silence again if you want.”
“Nope. Talk, kitten.”
She was really starting to like Gray. He was down-to-earth and, so far, hadn’t bullshitted her. And there was that whole “rescued her from a sinking ship and life as a sex slave to some freak who wanted to be called ‘master’” thing. She also tolerated his nickname for her, though she’d refused to let even past boyfriends call her cutesy names.
“Right, so life went on like this for a while. I’d be sh-shoved out of the house at six thirty to go to the bus stop and wait for the bus, which wasn’t coming until seven forty-five. Then I’d get home around four. The house was always empty. Mom was out doing whatever she did. She’d come home around eight and send me to my r-room.”