Breaking Away (Military Romantic Suspense) (Book 3 of the SEAL TEAM Heartbreakers)

by Teresa Reasor

  Joy jabbered on about the plastic couple’s relationship. “And Ken takes her to the movies like you did me and mommy. And drives her around like you did me and mommy.”

  Sam appeared from the kitchen and called Joy to the table. He heard chairs being pulled out in the next room while he parked the pink monstrosity in front of the dollhouse.

  Sam wandered back into the living room. “I’ve put a frozen pizza in for us. It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

  “I’m good.” He flopped back on the brown, red, and cream-patterned area rug. “I may have to lie here for the rest of the evening to recover.”

  Sam laughed and stretched out next to him on the rug. Flash extended an arm to act as a pillow and she curled in against his side.

  “Out of all the protective, caring things you’ve done for us, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as sweet as you playing Barbie with Joy.”

  “She pretty much has me right here,” he said pointing to his heart. “But that dude Ken has some real body issues.”

  Sam laughed out loud.

  “If the guys in my team ever saw me—” Realizing what he was about to say, he stopped.

  She ran her hand back and forth across his t-shirt-covered chest, and despite the mental kicking he was giving himself for the slip, his heart and body responded to her touch with a hunger he didn’t try to suppress.

  “I know you were special ops. Isn’t that what they call it?”

  His throat was suddenly dry. “Yes. A Navy SEAL.” He was still a Navy SEAL—until they discharged him or arrested him for desertion. The thought had his stomach muscles tightening and an ache settled like he’d been punched in the solar plexus. They’d give him a dishonorable discharge and prison time. He’d been AWOL nearly a year. He threw an arm over his eyes to hide his expression.

  “You don’t have to talk about it. I know you guys can’t talk about things, even with your families.”

  “No. Not much.” He grasped the hand that lay on his chest and held her palm against his cheek. “We’ll talk about it later, after Joy’s in bed.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah. I think I do.” He turned on his side and his mouth found hers. He was hungry for her, for everything she was willing to give. He loved her so much. For a moment, Sam’s response was as unfettered as his.

  The oven timer went off, and Joy yelled, “Mommy.”

  Sam continued to press soft kisses to his mouth, then with a sigh drew back. “Later,” she promised with one last kiss, rolled to her knees, and stood.

  Giving himself a moment to rein in his emotions, Flash lay there and swallowed back the pain. He shoved to his feet and followed her into the kitchen.

  “Want a nugget?” Joy asked, holding one up.

  “No. Thanks, honey.” He wasn’t sure he could even stomach the slice of pizza Sam slid onto his plate.

  “Mommy’s honey. I’m sweet tart, Mr. Tim.”

  He smiled. “Yes, you are.”

  Though it felt like a fist lay lodged in his throat, Flash choked down one piece of pizza and a little salad, then cleaned his plates and put them in the dishwasher.

  “I have to go over to the apartment to get my laptop. I have some things saved on it I want you to see.”

  “Okay.”

  He brushed Sam’s cheek with his lips before he headed over to the apartment, then rushed back, his heart pounding in his ears. Using the key she’d given him, he let himself back in and reset the alarm. He heard Sam in the bathroom getting Joy out of the tub. He sat at the kitchen table and pulled up two of the videos and put them on the desktop for her to view, then closed the computer. There was no need for her to watch them all; the less she knew, the safer she would be once he was gone. The video reports he’d sent to Captain Jackson were enough.

  He went into the living room and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. Images flickered across the television screen, but he couldn’t concentrate on the comedy playing on it.

  Joy ran in with a rag doll and a book and proceeded to climb up into his lap. She tucked herself in against his side and propped her feet onto his knee, her favorite position. She smelled like baby shampoo and her hair lay in soft wisps against his arm.

  “Is that what you want to read before bed?” he asked taking the book from her.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He opened the book. He took his time reading each page and allowing her to point out the characters. Sam came into the room and took a seat on the couch. Eventually Joy grew still and curled in against him, and he set the book aside and just held her until she fell asleep.

  Sam rose and started forward, but he shook his head. “I’ll carry her.” She went ahead of him to Joy’s room and pulled back the bedclothes to allow him to lay her down. She pulled the covers up. He paused beside the bed, taking in the long sweep of Joy’s lashes resting on her cheeks and the flyaway blonde hair. A wave of tenderness and grief nearly brought him to his knees. He turned and left the room, but paused outside in the hall and leaned back against the wall.

  Sam came out of the room and stopped to look up at him, concern in the crease of her brow and the anxious expression in her eyes. “What is it?”

  “I wish we’d met six years ago. I wish she were ours. He doesn’t know what he’s thrown away. But I do.”

  “Oh, Tim…” Her eyes filled with tears and she put her arms around him, holding him tight. He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair, breathed in her scent and held on until the pain eased a little.

  “I love you. Love you both,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “I—we—love you, too.” Her fingers caressed the back of his head and neck.

  He wanted to forget about everything but how they felt about one another, but he couldn’t. If something happened to Sam and Joy he’d never forgive himself.

  “I’m in trouble, Sam.” He swallowed. He forced himself to release her and took a step back. “My commanding officer, Captain Jackson, will be meeting with me at the Bellagio this Thursday.” He shook his head. “You need to watch the video files I’ve compiled for you so you’ll understand.”

  “What kind of trouble?” she asked, a frown drawing her brows together.

  She’d never believe him. She’d think he was pretending to be Rambo or trying to pull a con. Even a military spouse would have trouble believing all this. What was he thinking? He drew a deep breath.

  “I’ll give you the background info, then you need to watch the videos.” He drew her into the living room and they sat down on the couch.

  God, he didn’t want to do this. If he kept his mouth shut, they could go on like they were. Until Gilbert showed up at his door with his cartel buddies.

  But if all this were sprung on her, she’d hate him.

  Who was he kidding? He had to leave ASAP. Coming clean had been a bad idea. He should have just broken it off with her and packed his gear. Once he told her everything, she’d break it off. She’d be right in doing so.

  But looking into her eyes, seeing the love he’d waited for so long—

  “My name is Lieutenant Junior Grade Harold Timothy Carney.”

  “Carney?”

  He removed his military ID from his pocket, handed it to her and removed his glasses.

  Her hands trembled as she stared at the picture. She swallowed. “Your hair is lighter here.”

  “I’ve been using something to darken it.” He swallowed. “Fourteen months ago, while I was in Iraq, I was approached by an FBI agent about a smuggling situation going on within the ranks. The FBI gathered enough intel to lead them back to the middlemen stateside. They needed someone who could act on their behalf and purchase some artifacts in Iraq and smuggle them home. Each artifact would be fitted with a chip, so they could monitor where they were being transported. So I bought the artifacts with the money they gave me, smuggled them home, then followed through with the middlemen. Until the last buy went down and everything went to shit.”

  �
�I didn’t realize SEALs could act as policemen,” Sam said.

  “We don’t. We’re not allowed to take any kind of military action on domestic soil unless mandated by Congress. But in international situations, we work with the feds. We go after drug cartels and terrorists mostly. And always out of the country.”

  He paused to give her a chance to absorb all that. “I got an email saying orders had been cut loaning me to the feds to do these buys and exchanges. And since I’d worked with the FBI agent who approached me before, and I received orders once I got home certified mail, I thought everything was on the up and up.

  “Someone was following me, watching my every move. I was told to make it look like I was a high roller. Travel to and from Vegas. Buy a car. Put on a show so the buyers would think I was hungry for cash to fund my gambling and high-rolling lifestyle so they’d never think I was involved with law enforcement. I think it was all to make me appear truly guilty.” He looked into her face for the trust she’d given him. It was still there, but for how long.

  “But I’ve never seen you gamble,” Sam protested.

  “I haven’t since I’ve been here with you. I used to but after all this—” he shook his head. “I lost my stomach for it.”

  He swallowed and looked away. “Anyway, the first two buys went down in Mexico just fine. The third one was switched to San Diego at the last minute.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I knew something was wrong. I didn’t like the idea of the buy going down near the base, or the fact that it was happening on American soil, but the FBI was in charge, and I was following orders.”

  “The buy went down as it was supposed to, then out of the blue the middlemen were taken down by snipers. The shooters tried to kill me too, but I got away. I thought until recently I’d actually shot two FBI agents. But they weren’t FBI.”

  Sam sucked in a breath, sounding like she’d been punched, and, her color leached away, causing the freckles across her nose to stand out. “You shot them?”

  “They’d murdered the two buyers, Sam, and shot me. Then when they knew I was down, they came in from their sniper positions to make certain I was dead.” He raked his hair back to expose the scar along the side of his head. A scar she’d remarked on when her fingers found it while they were making love.

  “They were injured, both unconscious, but not dead when I left them. By the time the local police arrived at the scene, they’d disappeared.”

  The more he’d talked, the tighter Sam had curled into the corner of the couch away from him. Seeing her reaction, his chest tightened and his throat ached. She’d seen too much violence, experienced too much. And now he’d shoved the violent side of what he did in her face. He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands.

  “What I do for a living isn’t everything I am, Sam. I’m a SEAL, not a murderer. There is a difference.”

  “You have to give me a minute. The man sitting here with me, and the man you’re talking about, seem like two different people.”

  “Well, they’re not. I’ve been hiding out for the last ten months, sending info to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service about the FBI agent involved in all this. I’ve been building a case against him. Trying to prove I wasn’t involved in anything illegal.”

  “Why didn’t you just turn yourself in, Tim?”

  “The Navy was only interested in my being AWOL. The day of the buy I got the call we were being deployed. I was shot, bleeding, had a severe concussion and didn’t know who I could trust. I knew Gilbert was hunting for me. The man who’d tried to kill me. He’s mixed up with some bad people. People who wouldn’t think twice about killing me.

  “I wasn’t going to walk in to a hospital and have him pick me up and finish the job. Or be arrested by the military police, and possibly transferred into his custody, then murdered. I could see him doing just that, then saying I’d resisted arrest and attempted to escape.

  “Captain Jackson is trying to mediate with NCIS and the chain of command so I can go back and deal with all this.”

  Her voice shook when she asked, “Could you go to jail?”

  More than likely he would. The penalty for being AWOL would be at the very least two years, his rank stripped, and a dishonorable discharge. If they charged him with desertion, it could be the death penalty, though those charges had only been carried out once during World War II and never since. He swallowed. “Yes.”

  She rested her head on her updrawn knees, her blonde hair falling forward like silk. He ached to reach out and touch her, but could see a wall going up between them. He was helpless to stop it.

  Her head jerked up. “Are we in danger?”

  He shook his head. “They don’t know where I am. But eventually they will, and Gilbert will be coming after me. That’s why I’ve reached out to my commander. If NCIS takes me in now that I’ve supplied them with more info about Gilbert, it will end it all.”

  The ache in his chest grew unbearable, driving him to his feet. “I love you, Sam. The only other woman I’ve said that to is Nita. No one else. And I know this is a huge thing to accept. I know what you’ve been through in the past. And God knows you don’t need this. But I love you. And I love Joy.”

  Her skin looked paper-white with shock. And her features locked into lines of grief. They weren’t going to make it through this.

  “Watch the videos. You’ll know I’m not lying or conning you,” he said around the knot in his throat.

  “I know you’re not lying,” Sam managed, though it felt as if every bit of air had been sucked from her lungs. He had no reason to lie. In fact the opposite. She felt dull, as though the trauma of learning her perfect man was not so perfect had slowed her thought processes.

  Seeing how upset he was didn’t ease her own grief and fear. How could they have gone from making love this morning, telling each other how they felt, then having everything implode tonight? How could this happen?

  How could he love her and Joy, and be this other person?

  But she’d known he was military. Had guessed he was special ops. A Navy SEAL.

  And he wasn’t a different person. The change of one letter in his name didn’t change the person she had fallen in love with. Didn’t change the man who had just read to Joy and put her to bed. Had taught her how to defend herself. Had tried to protect them.

  Or was she just so desperate to believe in him, she couldn’t face the truth? What laws had he broken other than his being AWOL? And what kind of punishment did they have for that?

  Prison? How would she bear it? Knowing what he’d gone through as a child—How could he?

  “Do you want me to go, Sam?” Though his features were set in lines of careful control, the pain was there in his eyes for her to see. Once again he was paying for another person’s crime. And it wasn’t fair.

  “No. I don’t know.” She swallowed, though her throat felt raw with the effort. She wanted to rock and wail against the pain but instead held it back and turned her face against the couch. “I have to think.” She unfolded from the couch, walked down the hall to her bedroom and shut the door.

  For an hour all she could do was cry and vent her emotion. When she’d had enough of the pity party, she rose to go into the kitchen to look at the documents he’d compiled for her.

  Her heart dropped when she scanned the living room and found it empty. Tim was gone.

  When she read the letter he’d written to his commanding officer, her eyes filled with tears and her heart ached. Why had he written it to Lieutenant Yazzie instead of Travis and ‘Nita? When she saw the note at the end asking Lieutenant Yazzie to visit Travis and ‘Nita for him and explain, she understood. They’d need to hear about him first-hand, not just from a piece of paper.

  After viewing the videos and other things, she paced the floor. She had to put Joy ahead of everything else. Would social services get involved if they discovered she was involved with a—she couldn’t bring herself to say deserter or even think it. Could she be charged for harboring a fu
gitive?

  She had to call Ben and meet with him. Tell him everything. And Tim needed to go with her. There had to be a way they could set this right. There had to be a way.

  She had to put her child first, but she also wanted to do what her heart told her. For once she didn’t want to be a responsible adult, she just wanted to be a woman in love with a good man.

  Flash sat on the porch steps and watched the sun rise over the distant hills. The sky took on a bright yellow glow, then turned a warm peach. He hadn’t slept, couldn’t sleep. He should be inside the apartment packing, but he couldn’t get motivated.

  The door behind him opened, and he turned to look over his shoulder. Sam came out of the house and took a seat next to him on the steps. Her hair was a mess and dark circles discolored the skin beneath her eyes. The freckles he found so intriguing stood out across her nose. She looked ill.

  He had done this.

  “My lawyer is going to meet with us at noon at his office.”

  “On Sunday?”

  “Yes. I told him it was an emergency. When I started talking to him about you—You need to take your laptop.”

  “Okay.”

  She bit her lip. “He’s bringing an associate with him. An expert in federal cases.”

  “Thanks.”

  Because he couldn’t bear not to touch her, he rested a hand against her back. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  She started to tear up and looked away. “I love you. But I have to think of Joy.”

  “I know.” Her love for Joy was part of what had drawn him to her. He couldn’t resent the fact Sam put her first. “I never expected to fall in love, Sam. When I first moved in, I tried to stay away.”

  “I did too. I wasn’t looking for anyone. I never expected to ever want any of this again.”

  He pressed the heels of his palms against his burning eyes. SEALs don’t cry. He’d keep telling himself that until the need to do it passed. He looked out into the distance to keep from looking at her.