The Resolved Warrior_Navy Seal Romances

by Jennifer Youngblood

  “Is he being treated?”

  She brought a fist to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  Sutton touched her shoulder. “Leslie?”

  “Yes.” She sucked in a breath. “Chemo and radiation, but it’s not helping. There’s an experimental treatment in Scottsdale, Arizona. It’s been yielding good results for Doug’s type of leukemia, but I’ll never be able to afford it.”

  Sutton jerked. “What did you say your son’s name was?”

  “Doug.”

  An incredulous laugh gurgled in his throat. Seriously? Her boy’s name was Doug? This was too much. Moisture rose to his eyes as he blinked it away.

  A sob escaped Leslie’s throat. “I—I don’t know how I’ll do it.”

  “Do what?” Sutton managed to get out through his own strangled throat. This was insane. More than a coincidence.

  She turned to him, the raw desperation in her eyes cutting him to the core. “Let him go.” Her voice broke as she wiped at the tears. “I—I don’t want to lose my son.”

  Someday a doctor would look sympathetically into Leslie’s eyes. I regret to inform you …

  No parent should ever have to hear those words. “Do you think the experimental treatments will cure him?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but if there’s the slightest chance—”

  He nodded, knowing he would’ve gone to the end of the Earth and back if it could’ve saved his Doug. Then it occurred to him that even though he couldn’t save his son, he could help Leslie … give her son a fighting chance. A flicker of hope glimmered in his chest. He marveled at the feeling, something he thought he’d never experience again. A tiny prick of light had managed to penetrate the dark fog. He turned to Leslie, locking eyes with her.

  “What if I can help?”

  “How?” she asked, wariness seeping into her voice. But with that wariness came a blip of hope.

  “Where is Howie?”

  She shrank back. “I appreciate your help, but you don’t know how ruthless he is. You look … like you aren’t someone to mess with but he’s sneaky. He’ll hurt you. Maybe even kill you,” she stammered.

  He chuckled dryly. “Though unlikely, it would do us both a favor.”

  “What?” She looked confused.

  “Nothing.” He let out a long breath. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on helping Doug get better.” He offered a smile. “Who knows, maybe you’ll find a way to get those treatments he needs.”

  Her lower lip quivered. “I pray every day for a miracle.”

  A miracle? That’s what Agatha had asked for. “Where’s Howie?”

  “Are you sure about this, Mister?” She shook her head. “You’ve been so kind, and I don’t even know your name.”

  “I’m a friend. That’s all you need to know.”

  She smiled through her tears. “No, you’re an angel. Thank you for talking to me.” She laughed to herself. “I’m such a mess.”

  “Would you like for me to take you home?”

  “No, I need to finish my shift.” She rose to her feet, wincing in pain.

  Sutton also stood. As battered and bruised as Leslie was, he didn’t see how she could work. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the rest of the day off?”

  “No, the evening shift will be busy and we’re shorthanded as it is.” She took in a deep breath. “I need this job. I keep makeup with me, for, you know …”

  To cover up the damage, his mind supplied. Disgust rankled his gut. “Okay. Tell me where to find Howie.”

  She blinked a couple of times.

  Sutton touched her arm. “Let me help you. I promise it’ll be okay.” The air seemed to hold its breath as she reached a decision.

  “He didn’t say where he was going, but I suspect he’ll be at his usual haunt—Jack Riley’s Bar and Grill.” She spat out the words like they left a nasty taste in her mouth. She searched Sutton’s face. “What’re you going to do?” Her voice sounded small and scared.

  “Make sure that he never hurts you or Doug again.”

  “If you could accomplish that feat, then it really would be a miracle.”

  He gave Leslie a nod, knowing this would be the last time they ever spoke. “I hope all goes well with Doug’s treatment … and that you get your miracle.”

  She hugged her arms. “Me too.”

  Sutton left the diner and drove to Jack Riley’s. Just as Leslie said, he found Howie sitting near the bartender, hunched over, downing a shot of whiskey. Sutton left the bar, then sat in his Tesla to wait.

  According to the sign posted beside the door, the bar stayed open until two a.m. Sutton sighed, leaning back against his seat. He couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of the situation. He’d planned this day down to the detail, thought he’d be long dead by now. He never dreamt he’d be sitting outside a bar waiting for some bozo to come out so he could take care of him.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed his trusted friend, Landry Stevens. They’d served in the Royal Navy together and had an agreement. If one of them ever needed a favor, the other would return it without hesitation. Landry ran a private security firm and was so well connected that Sutton knew he could help with any situation. Sure enough, when Sutton explained the problem, Landry had an immediate solution.

  “I’ll get in touch with my friend and tell him to expect your call,” Landry said. They spoke for a few more minutes, Landry expressing his condolences about Doug, before Sutton ended the call.

  Sutton couldn’t explain it, but something had changed after his conversation with Leslie. Now that he was focused on helping her, his own problems weren’t as painful. Almost like … a miracle. It was empowering to know that he could make a difference in someone’s life—give Leslie and her son a shot at hope. This problem was within his power to fix. “Bet you didn’t see this one coming, did you, Doug?” he said aloud with a chuckle. “Well, it’s okay. Neither did I.”

  It was after midnight, and Howie still hadn’t emerged from the bar. Sutton figured the man was so drunk by now that he wouldn’t put up much of a fight. Shame, really.

  Sutton’s senses went on full alert when Howie stumbled out of the bar. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing through the process. He wasn’t sure where it would go down, exactly, but he’d meet the objective. He assumed Howie would get into a car, but was surprised when he walked down the sidewalk instead. That must mean that Leslie lived nearby. This would be easier than he thought.

  Sutton inched behind Howie, his Tesla moving soundlessly at a snail’s pace, the headlights turned off. When he bought the car, he’d figured out how to jailbreak it to get rid of the annoying whine at low speeds that was supposed to alert pedestrians. Who knew it would turn out helpful in a covert op like this?

  He had to make sure and keep enough distance between him and Howie, so he wouldn’t get suspicious. He glanced at the storefronts on either side of the street. Even though there wasn’t another person in sight, there were too many street lamps to make a move here and risk being seen or picked up on a random surveillance video. When Howie turned down a dark alley, Sutton’s pulse shot through the roof. It was now or never. He pulled behind Howie and got out.

  He figured Howie would hear movement and turn around, but he kept staggering forward like he was oblivious. He got close enough to tap Howie on the shoulder.

  Howie grunted and turned. “Whadda ya want?” he slurred, his arm flinging into the air. He teetered, trying to catch his balance. “I told you to put it on my tab.”

  “Remember me?” Sutton glared at Howie.

  Howie swayed back and forth as he looked at Sutton, his face blank. Then something clicked as his eyes widened in recognition. “The man from the diner!”

  “The man who has nothing to lose.”

  Howie tried to run, but his reaction time was slow. Sutton caught his collar and spun him back around. Howie cursed and balled his fist, but Sutton executed a quick uppercut to the jaw. Howie laughed the
n lashed out, punching and kicking, but he was no match for Sutton. He methodically pounded Howie’s face a few more times, until the weasel fell to the ground. He bent down and felt for Howie’s pulse. Still going. He was just passed out cold.

  In a flash, Sutton went to his car and opened the boot. Then he picked Howie up and heaved him over his shoulder, grunting in the process. The dead weight was heavy. He hobbled back to the car and dropped Howie into the boot. The empty air around Sutton crawled like ants over his skin, and all he could think about was getting out of here before anyone saw him.

  He got back in the car and wiped the sweat from his brow. His heart was pounding so fiercely it felt like it would beat out of his chest. He reached for his phone and punched in the number.

  A man answered on the first ring. “Hola.”

  “Javier, it’s Sutton, Landry’s friend.”

  “Sí, señor, I’ve been expecting you. I understand you have a package for me.”

  “Yep, he’ll make a fine addition to your prison.”

  “I’ll have someone meet you at the designated location. You know where that is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perfecto. Park near the road. We’ll find you. Adios, amigo.”

  “Adios.” Sutton hung up the phone, a surge of adrenaline spiking through him. Howie would no longer be able to hurt Leslie or her son. “Phase one, check,” he said aloud, a smile overtaking his lips as he set his GPS for Tijuana and pulled out of the alley.

  Chapter 4

  Two days later …

  It hadn’t been difficult to find Leslie’s home. Just as he suspected she lived only a few streets away from the bar in a rundown house on a shabby street. The day before, he’d watched as she wheeled her sick son out to her car then he followed them as they drove to a cancer treatment center. His heart ached when he saw how pale and thin Doug was.

  This morning, he’d gotten up at four a.m. and darted out the door to accomplish the second and final phase of this mission. The diner opened at six and he wanted to make sure he caught Leslie before she left for work. He wondered what Leslie thought about Howie not returning home. She would be relieved, no doubt. Maybe even a little sad, perhaps, that she was closing that chapter in her life. But above all, she and Doug would be safe.

  Leslie’s house was the only one on the street with the lights on. Sutton wondered who Leslie got to watch Doug while she worked, a neighbor perhaps. He parked in front of the house next door to Leslie’s and turned off the engine. He patted the satchel tucked under his lightweight jacket as he pulled the hood over his head and got out of the car. Grateful that it was still dark outside, he rushed up the sidewalk to Leslie’s house. He had to get in and out fast before anyone saw him.

  His heart pounding in his throat, he snuck up the steps and onto the front porch. He placed the satchel at the foot of the door and knocked loudly several times. Without waiting for Leslie to answer, he darted back to his car.

  He got in and closed the car door just as the front door of Leslie’s house opened.

  She was dressed in her waitress uniform. She stuck her head out and looked from side to side, a perplexed expression on her face. Then she looked down and saw the satchel. She hesitated for a second, long enough for Sutton to fear she might not pick it up. But finally, she did. Her eyes widened when she opened it and saw the bundles of hundred dollar bills. Two hundred thousand dollars.

  Her hand went over her mouth as her knees buckled. She stumbled back, catching herself on the doorframe. Then she held the satchel to her chest, tears springing to her eyes. Sutton assumed she’d go back into the house, but she walked to the edge of the front porch instead. He realized, with a jolt, that she was looking right at him.

  He should’ve parked farther away, but he wanted to make sure she got the money. He just sat there like a deer in the headlights.

  A grateful smile curved Leslie’s lips as she nodded. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. He didn’t need to hear the words to know that she was saying, “Thank you.”

  Mist collected in his eyes as he nodded. A look passed between them, two weary souls that had gotten a moment’s respite—one in the giving and the other in the receiving. An unexpected blanket of warmth cloaked Sutton and he felt the thing he’d been craving for so long. Peace. In some way he didn’t understand, he knew that everything would turn out okay for Leslie and her son.

  She turned around and went back into the house, closing the door behind her.

  Sutton started his car and headed home.

  Chapter 5

  Two Days Later …

  He was standing on the cliff side, watching the sunrise when Agatha found him.

  “It’s almost as stunning as me,” she said quietly.

  “Yes,” he agreed, smiling, “it is.”

  She turned to study him. “The breakfast thing … making all of Doug’s favorite foods. You had me blooming worried.” She hesitated. “I was afraid you might be thinking of …” She pantomimed a rope tightening around her neck and pulled a grotesque face.

  His eyes rounded. “How did you know?”

  Her features tightened. “Because I’m a smart old broad. I know you, sometimes better than you know yourself.” She pulled her jacket tighter round her.

  Sutton nodded, looking out at the ocean spreading before them like an endless blanket of glitter.

  “Dougie died doing what he loved.”

  The words caught him off guard as he jerked.

  “He was happy. Dougie dreamed of becoming a SEAL from the time he was a lad.”

  He swallowed. “I know.” Sutton couldn’t stop a tear from escaping the corner of his eye.

  She touched her heart. “And even though he’s gone, I still feel that sweet boy.” She paused. “Dougie would want you to buck up and be happy too.”

  The truth of Agatha’s words seeped into Sutton like a healing salve. “I know,” he said quietly. A comfortable silence settled between them. An image of Doug’s friend Corbin Spencer came to mind. He’d been more than a friend, in truth. They were SEAL brothers, had gone through BUD/s training together and served in the same platoon. Even though the Navy had sealed the records surrounding the mission that had taken Doug’s life, Sutton pulled a few strings to get the information. Corbin lost it when Doug was killed and went on a shooting rampage, nearly got himself discharged. Shortly after the incident, Corbin left the SEALs. Sutton had to wonder where Corbin was now. And the others from SEAL Team Seven for that matter. It gave life to the idea forming in his mind.

  Agatha ran her perceptive eyes over him. “You’re different.”

  Sutton cocked his head. “How so?”

  “There’s a new light in your eyes. A resolve that wasn’t there before. You found it, didn’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Peace. And your miracle.”

  He didn’t need to answer. She could see it in his eyes.

  She gave him a tender smile. “I’m pleased as punch.”

  He watched the fiery ball of the sun lift higher, chasing the last of the darkness away. This thing with Leslie had made him see things differently—given him a sense of empowerment that gave way to responsibility. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. An idea had been percolating inside him, and once he unleashed the words, there’d be no calling them back. “I want to do something, and I’m going to need your help.”

  Agatha cocked an eyebrow, a hint of amusement coming over her lined face. “I live to serve.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Four days ago made six months that Doug’s been gone. I want to honor him. I want to use my resources to help people in impossible situations.”

  She chuckled. “Who are you and what have you done with Sutton Smith?”

  He sighed. “I’m serious.”

  She gave him a sheepish grin. “Okay, you can never go wrong with easing sorrow.”

  “What I’m about to propose is not without an element of risk. And I’ll need your help every ste
p of the way.”

  A twinkle lit her eyes. “You mean something other than doing washing your undies and buttering your toast?”

  He pulled a face. “Did you really just go there?”

  She touched his arm and winked. “I’m closing my mouth and opening my ears.”

  Excitement coursed through Sutton’s veins. This was right … something he could sink his teeth into. He could make a real difference in people’s lives. In some small way, help right the wrong of Doug’s death with every person he helped. “It’s an ongoing project, of sorts. We’ll assemble a team of experts to privately help people with problems that are outside of the scope of the police. People who are fearing for their lives, kidnap victims, blackmail, sabotage. Anything, really.”

  “What kind of experts are you talking about?”

  The suspicious look on Agatha’s face caused a bubble of laughter to rise in his throat. He could only imagine what his friend must be thinking. Probably that he’d lost his mind. “Since we’re doing it to honor Doug’s memory, there’s really only one option. Retired SEALs. Doug’s team. Those brothers Doug loved so much, who loved him in return.” A wry grin touched his lips. “Chances are, they need to be part of a miracle or two as well.” His mind rushed ahead. “We’ll need to do some renovations on the house, but in a stealthy way so that people won’t realize we’re building a fortress.”

  She rumbled out a laugh. “Like Batman?”

  “Yes.”

  Her jaw dropped when she realized he wasn’t teasing.

  “I have the perfect cover,” he went on to explain. “A social-climbing philanthropist. No one will suspect a thing.” His eyes met hers. “I want to use my resources for good. There are people out there who are desperate for help.” He balled his fist. “And we have the power to help them.”

  “This is crazy,” she uttered.

  He pinned her with a look. “You said that the tragedy I suffered would work for my good. That I was one of the great ones.” His voice hitched. “That God could use me to help others.” He took in a breath. “Well, it took a miracle, but I’m starting to believe it. And now I need you to stand by my side.”