“Done? It was rape.” Damon jerked his head toward the forest. “US soldiers firing on US Navy personnel.” He took a threatening step closer. “It’s not just the General who’s going to prison. Every one of you will do time.”
“Fuck.” The guy clamped his eyes shut. “We were handpicked by the General’s office, but I’m not the only man who would never have signed on if we’d known the scope of this exercise.”
“How many men are in those trees?”
“Eight, including myself and the kid here.”
“Six dead,” Damon said, and shook his head. “I’m taking Sloane out of here. When the kid wakes up, you can walk out on foot. Then you give the General a message from me. This exercise is over. He tries to stop me, I’ll exterminate all of his men—and then I’ll come for him, Sergeant Green.”
Damon read the name tag sewn into the soldier’s fatigues.
Green scrubbed his face with both hands. “We’re so far down the rabbit hole, we’ll never get out.”
“Is the General running this show alone or does he have backing?” Sloane asked. The sergeant probably knew nothing, but it was worth a try.
Green pulled a water canteen from his hip and unscrewed the top.
“Give that to her,” Damon ordered before the soldier could take a sip.
The guy nodded and offered the canister. “I don’t know if it’s just the General, but he hates women. It’s not just women in combat, he literally has it out for most women. When we were briefed on his intentions and the—” he paused. “The SC exercise. It seemed like he was looking forward to it. He’s a sadistic bastard. Always has been. Not surprised he’s working for the CIA now.”
“SC exercise?” she asked.
The soldier cleared his throat while Sloane drenched hers in water.
“Sexual Contact exercise.”
She choked and shook her head. “Leave it to the military to coin a benign name for a horrific act. What comes next? Anal probing? Nipple clamps?” The soldier remained mute. “Well? What?”
“The General expected resistance to the—Sexual Contact exercise, but he didn’t expect the SEALs to take anyone’s life. He didn’t want to lose control of the operation. When he ordered us to fire on the other SEALs, only some did. Others, like myself, tried to restrain them without harm.”
“On your stomach, Sergeant,” Damon ordered and jerked the barrel of his weapon.
Green lay on the rough stone of the outcropping and her SEAL pulled a piece of rope from his pocket he must have found in the equipment shed. He secured Green’s hands to his feet.
Sloane kneeled beside the soldier, but not close enough to put herself in harm’s way. “Your men just killed a civilian.” Green remained silent, face down on the moss covered rock. “He was the son of the rancher who owns this land. A retired sailor who allowed the Army to exercise on his property. If the General’s covering his tracks it means he has no intention of failing.”
Green strained to gaze up at her. “The General has a failsafe plan. None of you are going to walk out of here alive, if one of you doesn’t submit. He’s got the CIA behind him. You’ll disappear and be nothing but a conspiracy theory for people to argue over, but never know the truth.”
The warm touch of Damon’s hand on her shoulder made her rise. The ferocity in his expression sent a chill through her veins.
Leaning over the trussed sergeant, Damon said, “If you’re smart, you’ll find a way back to San Diego and save your ass with damage control. If not, you’ll end up like your team down there in the forest.” Damon yanked a handful of moss from the ground and forced it into Green’s mouth, then pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket and secured it at the back of Green’s neck to gag him.
The sound of tinder dry twigs breaking alerted them of a second wave of soldiers closing in. Instead of scrambling down from their perch and making a wide circle toward the Jeeps and freedom, Damon motioned up the mountain. Uncertain of his reasoning, she followed. She had no choice, she’d follow this SEAL anywhere he wanted to go.
Chapter Seventeen
A guy wearing a five-hundred-dollar suit exited the new five-story condo complex situated on La Playa Bay. Adam Austen held the door open as the man hurried past without stopping to ask twenty questions or checking whether Adam lived in the building.
Walking through the lobby, beams of sunlight shone through the vaulted ceiling inlaid with glass. He eyed the stone and timber architecture that only the rich could afford to waste on esthetics. Passing the elevator, he accessed the stairs to bypass the need for a key card or Kelsey to let him up, which she might not do. He paused to consider what the hell he would say to her when he exited the stairwell on the fifth floor.
The answer swept into his thoughts at high speed. Words weren’t as important as seeing her before he headed home to Virginia in five days. Back to his missions. Drinking with his teammates and picking up women who didn’t give a damn about him. Nor would he remember their faces after he left in the morning.
Striding down the thick carpeted hallway with an eclectic pattern woven into the commercial Berber toward Kels’ unit, he considered turning back. He could drop by the day before leaving instead of today. No doubt, his mom would have a big dinner and expect everyone to come. But if Kels concocted an excuse, he wouldn’t see her one last time. When he decided to stop lying to himself, he knew it wasn’t goodbye he wanted to say.
Turning his wrist, his G-Shock showed six o’clock. She had to be home from work. Straightening his shoulders, he tapped on the door with the embossed number 504 at chin level. As the seconds ticked by, his pulse kicked up.
The door swung open and Kels blinked with surprise. “Adam. Hi.” She leaned out and looked both ways. “How did you get up here?”
“Hey.” He darted a glance toward the floor and then back into her eyes. “Took the stairs.”
Still wearing what he called her tight-ass legal outfit, he guessed she’d just arrived herself. Not that the body hugging, forest green, two piece dress-suit didn’t look fucking fantastic wrapped around her almost six foot stature, but all he saw in his mind’s eye was silver eyes half-lidded with pleasure when he was inside her a year ago. That night, soft brunette curls of hair wound around his fingers, and the elegant curves of her body slid against his heated skin. Wild and breathless, she flared in his mind any time he thought of her. And he thought of her far too often.
Kels offered a confused smile. “Come on in.”
She left him standing in the wide entryway decorated with a driftwood side table and a print of a beach scene hanging near the louvered closet doors. He followed her into the luxurious penthouse apartment. Rounding the corner into the large living room, he stopped in his tracks.
“Aunt Marg.” Great! His plan for privacy flew out the window.
Kels’ mom sat in a high-back chair next to the fireplace. “Hi, honey. Have you spoken with Sloane in the last couple of days?”
“No. Why?” He took roost in the leather chair next to the sofa and accepted the beer Kels plopped into his hand without him asking.
“Kayla’s concerned. Sloane calls her almost every day.”
Adam shrugged. “Maybe she slipped off with her friends for some chick time.”
“Chick time?” Kels said, and raised a brow.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Aunt Marg sat forward, clenching her hands. “I do, but she should be at the base, and she’s not answering her cell, either.”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t worry. I’ll drop by her place later.”
Aunt Marg surveyed him with a mother’s eye. “You’re heading back to Little Creek in a few days, aren’t you?”
He wet his throat with a swallow of beer and placed the bottle on the coaster from a Napa winery sitting on the side table nestled between him and the couch. “Wheels-up Saturday morning.”
“Kayla was so happy you came for a visit. She misses you.”
Adam smiled. “Yeah, I m
iss her too. I know she wants me to transfer to the west coast. Maybe I will eventually.” Kels settled herself on the couch and pinched a long stemmed glass between her fingers filled with an inch of red wine. “Aside from missing the folks and being around to give Sloane a hard time, I don’t have any reason to move back here. Team guys are great out east. I have an apartment off the base where I can kick back and relax when I’m not on duty.” He grinned. “Besides, I’ve got orders to come home for Christmas this year, which I might be able to pull off.”
Kels’ gaze ventured toward the floor to ceiling glass doors leading to the large balcony attached to her condo. A patio set with a flaming red umbrella and brightly colored seat cushions invited guests to sit a while to enjoy the oceanfront view. The place had to cost at least a couple million. Any idiot could figure that out, and she was currently dating one.
Aunt Marg rose, a wrinkle of concern on her forehead as she watched her daughter disconnect from the conversation and stare out the window. “Plenty of girlfriends too, I’m sure.”
“Nothing—permanent.”
She nodded and offered a weak smile. “Guess I’ll be going. Your mom is getting a little worried. I’ll let her know you’ll drop by Sloane’s place, but if she’s not there, would you let Kayla know?” His favorite pseudo aunt stooped to kiss him on top of his head like she did when he was eight-years-old. Kelsey had already vacated the room and walked to the front door. Quietly Aunt Marg whispered, “Talk her out of marrying him.”
“I—” What the hell did she just say? Marg winked at him and left. Had Kels told her mom the douchebag had proposed?
He remained in the comfortable chair while Kels said goodbye. When the door to the condo closed, his heart rate ramped up when she returned. Instead of sitting near him on the couch, Kelsey sat in the chair her mom vacated.
Toying with her wine glass, she stared into the ruby colored liquid, swirling it around the edges. “Why are you here, Adam?”
He gave his head a shake and then took a few strides to cross the room and grip her hand, guiding her back to the couch. Sitting down, he urged her to do the same. “I’m not here to piss you off or ask fifty questions, but I want to know if you’re going to marry the douchebag.”
“His name is Morgan.” Kels crossed her legs and leaned against the soft leather couch back. “You’re leaving in five days. Why does it matter?”
“It matters.” He didn’t have a clue what to say to her or what might come out when he opened his mouth, but the thought of Kels marrying some low-rate musician drove him nuts. Drove him to borrow his dad’s motorcycle and end up on her couch. He swallowed and looked into her eyes. “It matters because I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Before he could finish, she wrapped her long fingers over his hand, and his mind stopped whirling. “I don’t know why we ended up in bed a year ago, Adam. Blame it on the alcohol and leave it at that.”
“I wasn’t that drunk and neither were you,” he said, placing his other hand over hers. “We knew exactly what was happening and we both wanted it.”
Kels tried to free her hand but he squeezed, refusing to let go.
“Aren’t you worried about Sloane?” she asked, attempting to change the subject.
“I’ll worry about my sister after I hear your answer.”
She shook her head. “Sit over there.”
“Why? Can’t think straight when I’m around?” he teased.
With an exaggerated lift of her brow, she left him on the couch and walked to the floor to ceiling windows to look out across the bay with her arms crossed. “I see things clearly. Obviously, you don’t.”
“Really.”
“Yes. My life is here.”
“And what kind of life are you going to have with a guy who strums a guitar and sits around on your expensive furniture all day? What’s he bringing to the table? A guitar pick and a few sheets of music. You’re a lawyer. Your family is wealthy.”
Kels turned her back on him, but he heard her speak through gritted teeth. “You came across town to imply Morgan loves me for my money instead of me?”
“I didn’t say that, but if you’re worried about it, then dump him.”
She turned, her silver eyes snapping with anger. “And what? Choose you instead? Worry myself to death every time you leave on deployment? I don’t think so. Go back to your Frog Hogs and consider yourself lucky every time you finish a mission and walk off the plane on two legs.”
Biting his upper lip, which he had a bad habit of doing when he was thinking, he’d nearly gnawed a hole in it over the last few days. “Not exactly. I don’t want you to worry. I want you to believe in me.”
“Oh,” she spouted. “For God’s sake. I do believe in you, but that won’t stop you from eating a bullet or stepping on an IED. It won’t stop the endless bloodshed in the Middle East. It won’t stop the need for you to put yourself in danger every single second you’re gone.” She threw open one of the patio doors. “Why the hell are we even talking about this?” She escaped to the dark slate tiles covering the deck.
Adam paused in the doorway as she crossed the distance of the vast deck and looked out over the sea once she reached the waist-high glass bannister surrounding the patio for protection, but not impeding the view.
He could leave or he could….
A few steps later, he pressed his chest to her back and curled his arms around her body, tucking his head next to hers. Glad she didn’t try to escape his hold, he took a deep breath to clear his mind.
Kels turned, but he kept her within the circle of his arms, gazing into the features of the sweet girl he’d watch grow up and the beautiful woman he’d made love to once.
“Adam, I had a long day in court. I’m tired and it’s time for you to go.”
“I’m sure you did,” he whispered against her lips.
She swallowed and searched his eyes. “No,” she whispered back.
He settled his hand lightly over her heart. “This isn’t saying, ‘No.’” The uneven beats below his palm giving her away.
Removing the wisp of distance between them, he placed a soft kiss on her full lips, paused for only a second, then kissed her like he needed to kiss her—fiercely. The breeze swept the heat from his body, but he had too much to spare. Slowly, too slowly for his liking, her hands slid around his neck and he pulled her taut against his chest. His need for Kels had no bottom. As much as she wanted to forge a giant wall to separate them, she couldn’t. Not with his hunger feeding hers.
When she pulled away for air, he said, “Fuck, I want to be inside you so bad, I’m losing my mind.”
Her smoky eyes gazed at him, her chest rising in tune with the shallow gusts of her breathing. “I’m engaged.”
With one heave, he gripped her thighs, straddling them around his waist. “I know you, Kels. You haven’t said yes yet.”
She glared at him and he knew he’d hit the mark.
“You’ll call me an egomaniac again, but you didn’t say yes because it doesn’t feel right.” She wouldn’t perjure herself by admitting he spoke the truth. He didn’t waste time and walked straight through the apartment to her bedroom and laid her on the crisp, white sheets. Hovering over her, desire scratching for its freedom to make love to her, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “You feel whole. Just like I do when I’m inside you.”
An hour later, they both lay on their backs staring up at the ceiling. His mind scrambled with the memory of Kels’ soft skin driving him crazy. In bed, she was wild and uninhibited. He’d teased her until she couldn’t control her passion any longer. When she’d mounted him, her beautiful body arching with ecstasy, he’d come so hard he still trembled with the aftershock.
He rolled onto his side, and she did the same to face him.
“You seduced me again,” she said, a little off balance by the expression on her face.
He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. “Don’t intend to stop.”
Leaning his forehead against hers
, he closed his eyes and sighed. Her phone beeped twice and she rolled in the sheets to pick it up, but he stayed her hand.
“Somebody’s downstairs.”
“Don’t care.” He slid the tips of his fingers along the curve of her waist and over her hip. When the phone stopped ringing, he said, “Kels, let’s grab something for dinner. We’ll find my bratty sister so mom can stop worrying, then we’ll come back here.”
Her brow creased with indecision. “That sounds too much like a date.”
He chuckled. “We’re long past dating.”
When the sound of the front door opened, Kels vaulted from the bed, pulling the sheet around herself with a look of terror splashed across her face.
Adam blinked. “Guess the douchebag has a key to the front door,” he said blandly.
Douchebag, a.k.a Morgan, entered the room and said, “Hey,” before his eyes took in the landscape.
Kels stood stone still, sheet wrapped around her body, the ends trailing off the bed. Adam pushed himself to a sitting position and rested the back of his head against the wall and draped a wrist over one bent knee.
Douchebag had the “overgrown rocker kid” look down to a fine art, with long hair held back in a ponytail, a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt with some music festival stamped on the front that had been washed too many times, the imprint faded and pieces missing.
Morgan stood in the doorway, mute for only a second. “What the fuck?”
A twitch jerked the left side of Adam’s mouth. “She thought I might want to stick around and meet her ex-fiancée.”
When the douchebag remained cemented in the same spot of carpet, Kels said, “Morgan, this is Adam Austen. We—we grew up together.”
Adam couldn’t help it, and erupted in laughter. Kelsey didn’t find it amusing at all, nor did she expect him to leap from the bed and stand behind her, wrapping his arms around his woman. “Morgan, think it’s time you made a speedy extraction. By the way, the wedding’s off.”
The douchebag didn’t see it that way. “I want you out of my fucking place.”
“Your place?” Kels asked in shock.
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