Hot Pursuit - A Marooned with the SEAL Romance (Once a SEAL, Always a SEAL Book 2)

by Layla Valentine

  “Part of me wishes that I could,” I said. “To be able to do this kind of work forever. But, yeah, I know what you’re saying—being a bodyguard wouldn’t really be the best career option for a senior citizen.”

  “Have you thought about it?” she asked.

  “I have,” I said. “And I wouldn’t mind settling down. It sounds nice. Not having to travel everywhere, not having to spend half of my life on airplanes, not having to be suffering from jet lag most of my waking hours.”

  I thought about it, not sure if I wanted to reveal everything to her, then reasoned that if we were going our separate ways soon anyway, it couldn’t exactly do much harm.

  “I’m thinking of starting a business,” I told her. “Maybe a local security company, something where I can direct things from behind the scenes, something where I can stay put.”

  “And what would you do if you were staying put?” she asked.

  “I’d want to be close to my mother, to make sure that she had someone looking out for her. I made a mistake letting my dad go, but I can do the right thing by her. I’d have a house built for her, make sure she didn’t want for anything. Then, maybe, I’d think about starting a family of my own.”

  A little sparkle flashed in her eyes at this.

  “The Navy SEAL settles down,” she said.

  “Gotta do it sometime,” I said. “Can’t be an international jet-setter for your entire life.”

  “Believe me,” she said. “I know.”

  There was something unspoken between us now. After all, you can’t really say to someone you’re involved with that you both have more-or-less the exact same thing in mind for your futures without getting to thinking. But I didn’t know what would become of Delaney and I once we’d gotten back to civilization. I’d heard that relationships formed from traumatic experiences only lasted as long as the event did. Would things dissipate as soon as we were out of danger?

  I knew it was all pointless to think about, however. We had very, very, pressing matters to deal with. I could picture with perfect clarity the mobsters arriving at the oasis, finding signs that we’d been there, and getting back on our trail. We were in a race against time, and the longer we took, the greater the odds of them finding us.

  We kept on, the sun beginning to dip in the distance.

  “Whoa,” said Delaney, pointing ahead. “What’s that?”

  Up in the distance a curving, black shape snaked through the desert. I squinted, trying to imagine what it might be.

  “Oh, shit,” I said. “That has to be the canyon and the river. Come on!”

  I picked up my pace, Delaney hurrying after me.

  “Does that mean we’re getting close?” she asked in between breaths.

  “Sure does,” I said. “Means once we cross, we’ve only got a couple more hours of walking ahead of us.”

  “Then Longbridge?”

  “Then Longbridge. But we’d better pray there’s some way across.”

  My heart rate began to pick up as we closed in on the river. I never thought I’d be so happy to arrive at a town like Longbridge, but here I was, missing that dust-swept little village.

  The dark shape of the canyon began to take a more defined shape as we approached, and soon I could make out the rocky crags and hear the rushing of the river below. After about ten more minutes of near-running, we reached the edge of the canyon.

  “Damn,” said Delaney. “That’s a hell of a drop.”

  She wasn’t wrong. The walls of the canyon were steep as they came, and below, probably a good hundred feet down, a narrow, curving river raged.

  “There,” I said, looking to our right and spotting a long, rope bridge that covered the width of the canyon. “There’s our ticket back to town.”

  “Let’s go!” shouted Delaney, raising her voice over the rushing water that echoed from below.

  We trotted over to the bridge and looked it over. With spaced wood slats and rope handles, it didn’t look like the most stable thing in the world. But it’d get us across—if we were careful.

  I watched as Delaney stepped toward the bridge, placing one hand on the rope handle and looking down. The color seemed to drain out of her face instantly.

  “Hey,” I said. “We were wondering why they called this town ‘Longbridge’, right?” I asked with a smirk. “Well, maybe this is it?”

  She gave me a glare that made it clear she didn’t find my joke all that funny.

  “Justin, I don’t think I can do this,” she said. “It looks like it might collapse at any second. And look—some of the slats are missing!”

  She pointed ahead and, sure enough, there were gaps in the bridge where the slats had fallen. Crossing would be tricky, but luckily, we had all the time in the world to cross. That is, assuming that it would handle our weight.

  “It’s our only option,” I said. “We need to get across.”

  Delaney nodded, understanding that I was right.

  “Okay,” she said. “But you need to hold onto me the entire time. And don’t let go.”

  I nodded.

  “I can handle that,” I said. “And I’ll go first.”

  With that, I stepped to the beginning of the bridge. Keeping one foot on the dirt, I placed my right foot onto the first slat and gave it a press. It held my weight without cracking or creaking—so far, so good.

  Now for the rest of my body. I took in a deep breath and brought my other foot from the desert onto the slat. Sure enough, it held.

  “I think we’re good!” I called out, raising my voice over the river. “Take my hand and follow me!”

  Delaney nodded, her expression still tight with fear. I moved over to the next slat, giving her room to approach. I stuck out my hand for her, and she took it. Then, with some hesitation, she moved onto the slat.

  “See?” I said. “It’s fine. Looks worse than it is. And I’ll step first. That way you’ll know that where you’re going to put your foot down will support your weight.”

  She nodded again, her mouth pressed into a tight, flat line, her brow scrunched with tension.

  One hand on the rope, one hand holding Delaney’s, I began to move slowly across the bridge.

  “Oh,” I said, calling out over my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve heard this a million times, but don’t look down!”

  “Just like ‘don’t think of the pink elephant’!” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “Tell someone not to think of a pink elephant, and that’s the first thing they’ll think of. Now all I want to do is look down!”

  “I would really, really, strongly advise against that!”

  I continued to cross, now having flashbacks of my time in SEAL training when I was forced to cross a similar bridge over a similar river. Only then, I didn’t have the privilege of anything to put my feet on—I had to shimmy across with nothing but a rope. I considered telling this to Delaney, but I realized with a wry smirk that she likely wouldn’t take too much comfort in it.

  “Just keep moving!” I called out. “Almost halfway there!”

  We took the slats one by one. The further we moved across the bridge, the louder the water roared. Soon, I could barely hold a thought in my head. After a little more time, we reached the halfway point of the bridge.

  “We did it!” she yelled out, a big beaming smile on her face.

  I tried to stay cool and calm, but I couldn’t help but feel more than a little affected by her spirits.

  But then I caught a glimpse of something at the far end of the bridge.

  It was a man. And not just any man, but a burly man with a shaved head, the long blade of a machete in his right hand.

  “Delaney,” I said. “I want you to stay very calm.”

  “What?” she yelled, as though she’d misheard me. “What are you talking about?”

  I raised my hand slowly and pointed to the end of the bridge at the man. A shriek left her mouth as soon as she laid eyes on him.

  “Oh my God, oh my God!�
� she shouted out, her face turning an even more grim shade of pale.

  Then I felt a tingling behind me. Closing my eyes, I turned on the slat toward the other end of the bridge. Opening them, I spotted the form of another man, another one of the thugs that I’d dispatched at the gas station yesterday.

  We were trapped.

  “Justin,” said Delaney, noticing the second man. “What are we going to do?”

  “Stay calm,” I said. “Stay holding onto the rope. Don’t move. Don’t do anything unless I say so.”

  She nodded, her hair whipping around her face, her face tight with fear.

  “We’ve got you surrounded!” the man on the side of the bridge called out. “Now, hand over the girl!”

  “How many goddamn times do I have to tell you?” I shouted. “She isn’t the client! She isn’t the girl you’re looking for!”

  “Doesn’t matter!” shouted the man on the other side, a stocky man in all black with a shaved head. “Our orders are to get the girl you’re with. We don’t give a shit if she’s the right one!”

  “But we got a little leeway to deal with you!” said the other man. “So, if you’re smart, you’ll send her over. Otherwise, we’re gonna carve you a new smile! And maybe one on that pretty face of hers, too!”

  Rage began to boil inside of me. Threatening me was one thing, but threatening Delaney was another matter.

  “This is your final warning!” called out the shaved-head man. “Send her over now, or we’re coming for you!”

  “Are you insane?” I shouted. “There’s no way this bridge will support all four of us!”

  “I guess we’ll have to see about that, huh?” he called out.

  He put one foot on the slat, a wicked smile on his face.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I said, watching the rope strain under the new weight.

  “Justin!” cried Delaney. “What are we going to do?”

  I needed to come up with something, and fast. Most importantly, I knew that any sudden movements could very well cause the rope to snap and send all four of us tumbling down into the raging waters below.

  But if I went for either one of the men, I risked leaving Delaney open and exposed. There was the gun, but it was in Delaney’s bag. I realized to my chagrin that it was our best bet.

  “Reach in your bag and grab the gun,” I said.

  “Are you serious?” she cried. “And do what with it? You think I could take these guys out?”

  “No,” I said. “But it’ll give us some leverage. Just do it!”

  She nodded, likely realizing as I did that it was our best bet. With a trembling hand, she reached into the bag and pulled out the small pistol, holding it with a ring of her index and middle finger through the trigger.

  “Hold it like you know what you’re doing with it!” I said.

  She quickly took it by the handle and held it in the air.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Gable?” called out the shaved-head man. “You gonna get that rich brat to take us both out?”

  I turned my attention away from the men and back to Delaney.

  “Toss that to me!” I called out. “On three—one, two, three!”

  With an underhand toss, she launched the gun into the air. But just at the moment the gun was about to land in my grip, the shaved-head thug raised his machete and cut into the rope, the blade landing with a thwack that sounded over the roar of the river. I stumbled where I stood, the gun bouncing off the palm of my hand and careening over the edge of the bridge and down, down into the water.

  “Shit!” I called out.

  “Just give it up, Gable!” said the shaved-head goon. “Send the girl over and no one gets hurt.”

  “Fine!” I said.

  Delaney shot me a look of total surprise.

  “We’re coming over to the far end!” I yelled.

  “Smartest call you’ve made yet!” the goon said.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Delaney. “You’re not giving up that easily, are you?”

  “Of course not,” I said, keeping my voice low enough so only she could hear it. “Just stick close to me, and when I say the word, I want you to take off to the other side of the bridge as fast as you can run. Got it?”

  “And what about you?” she said, her eyes wide with concern.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m trained for situations like this. You getting safe is the important thing.”

  She nodded but didn’t look entirely convinced.

  “We’re getting back to Longbridge, got it?” she asked. “After all we’ve been through, there’s no way I’m seeing this through without you.”

  “I promise I’ll be there. You have my word.”

  She nodded, taking a deep breath. I extended my hand toward her, and she took it.

  It was time to move.

  Chapter 16

  Justin

  We inched across the bridge as carefully as we’d made the first trek to the middle. My heart thudded in my chest, which was a shock to me. I’d been in trickier situations than this before. That’s when I realized that it wasn’t my own safety I was nervous about—it was Delaney’s. The idea of something happening to her was enough to make me sick to my stomach. And as we moved across the bridge, I vowed that I wouldn’t let either one of those goons lay a single hand on her.

  “Good boy,” said the goon on the far end of the bridge as we approached, a cunning glint in his eye and a shark smile on his face.

  He tossed the machete from one hand to the other, looking ready to use it at the slightest provocation. As we approached the end of the bridge, he held out his hand, ready to grab onto Delaney. But I glared at him hard and spoke.

  “Neither of you touches her,” I said. “New addition to the deal.”

  The man shot daggers at me, waiting to see if I’d flinch or lower my eyes. But I didn’t back down. He shrugged, likely realizing it was less hassle for me to have my way. Once Delaney and I stepped off the end of the bridge and onto the ground, the man waved to the shaved-head goon, letting him know it was safe to come across.

  “You’ve been a real pain in the ass for us, Gable,” the goon said, glaring at me with narrowed, mean little eyes. “You’re lucky this girl’s worth so much goddamn cash or I’d have a good mind to toss both of you down into the river for causing us so much trouble.”

  I snorted.

  “I’m still wondering what the hell you’re gonna tell your boss when you bring this girl to them and they realize it’s the wrong one. Might dock your pay for that little screw-up.”

  The goon reached into his wallet and pulled out a small, black-and-white picture. It was of Delaney walking into the hotel in Longbridge.

  “That’s the girl we’re getting paid for,” he said. “Looks pretty freakin’ close to me.”

  “Then the screw-up goes all the way up the ladder, I see,” I said.

  “Just shut your goddamn trap, Gable,” he said.

  I glanced over at Delaney. Her eyes were still wide, her mouth tight and flat. Her hand shook in mine, and I held it firm to keep her calm.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “Just stay calm,” I said. “I’ve got this.”

  “So damn sure of himself,” said the goon.

  He waved to the shaved-head thug on the other side of the bridge, who was already on his way over. I knew that I needed to time this right—one misstep might be all it would take for both of us to be sunk.

  “Just hand her over,” he said. “You’re gonna have to eventually. Might as well do it now.”

  I said nothing, instead glaring at him hard and making it clear that my terms weren’t up for debate. He snorted as he realized that I wasn’t going to budge.

  I glanced back over my shoulder and watched as the shaved-head thug moved closer and closer still, now near enough to see the yellowed teeth in his jagged smile.

  “Justin,” Delaney whispered.

  I could only imagine how afraid she was. Desperat
ely, I wanted to tell her exactly what I had in mind, that she didn’t need to worry about a thing. But for now, all I could do was hope that she kept calm.

  “Grab her!” the shaved-head thug shouted to his comrade. “Grab her until I get there!”

  “You heard the man,” said the goon on my side. “Hand her over.”

  Delaney shot me another expression of total fear.

  “Not going to tell you again,” I said. “Don’t touch her. Unless you want serious trouble, that is.”

  The goon gave me another narrow-eyed look before glancing down to Delaney’s arm.

  “Just grab her!” the other man shouted out. “No time to screw around!”

  “All right,” the man on my side said. “Enough of this bullshit.”

  With that, he shot his hand out and grabbed onto the upper part of Delaney’s arm. She let out a gasp as he touched her.

  “Now,” I said. “What did I tell you about touching her?”

  “Screw you,” he said.

  “Wrong answer.”

  One more look over my shoulder let me know that the shaved-head goon was right where I wanted him still on the bridge. I turned my attention back to the thug holding Delaney’s arm and made my move. With lightning-quick precision, I jabbed him hard in the stomach, his eyes shooting open with surprise and the air escaping out of his lungs with a deep “Oof.”

  Delaney’s arm slipped out of his grasp, and her eyes locked onto mine.

  “Run!” I said.

  “No way!” she responded.

  I didn’t have time to argue; the thug I’d just hit tried to steady himself, but a knee to the breadbasket knocked the rest of the fight out of him. He dropped to his knees, the machete falling out of his hand and into the dust with a soft thud. One more kick to the face sent him flying backward and landing in a heap of unconsciousness.

  “Gable, you prick!” shouted the shaved-head thug, now brandishing his machete with deadly intent.

  Fire boiled in his eyes, and he looked so angry at that moment I wondered if he just might kill the both of us. He cut the rest of the distance across the bridge, toward Delaney, still frozen in place. He took a swipe through the air with his machete, the attack aimed at Delaney.