Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Sam (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Abbie Zanders

  Eventually, a patrolman brought Mr. Santori by in a police cruiser, but other than a few glances in her direction, the owner didn’t acknowledge her. That hurt more than she wanted to admit. Mr. Santori couldn’t possibly think she’d had anything to do with this morning’s fire, could he?

  “I don’t like that fire chief,” Steve said later. “Is he always an asshole, or does he have some personal beef with you?”

  She almost smiled at his words. She wasn’t used to someone rallying on her behalf. With Steve, though, it seemed to come with the territory.

  “You can’t help it, can you?”

  They sat in the back of the bustling diner, ten miles outside of Sumneyville. Her club sandwich remained untouched, her appetite non-existent. Steve’s assurance that she had been with him all night and all morning, suggestive as it was, was probably the only reason she was sitting here with him now, instead of calling a lawyer from an interrogation room at the police station.

  “Can’t help what?”

  “Rescuing people.”

  He seemed amused by the thought. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  She nodded. “You escort me to and from work, give me a place to stay, provide an alibi.” She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. “What I can’t figure out is: why would you do all that for me?”

  He snorted. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Most people wouldn’t.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  “Kinda my point. You hardly know me.”

  He looked away, as if suddenly uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t have to know everything about you to know you didn’t have anything to do with that blaze, and if Frick and Frack would get their heads out of their collective asses, they’d see it, too.”

  Her lips quirked at Steve’s nicknames for the police and fire chiefs, who just happened to be brothers-in-law.

  His words had touched her, though. It was nice to have someone believe in her, especially when people in the town obviously had their doubts.

  “Sumneyville is a small town. Nepotism and drama are part of the local flavor.”

  “Doesn’t make it right. Are you going to finish that?” he asked, changing the subject. When she shook her head, he signaled for the server. “Can you get us a box, please?” he asked politely.

  The server, an attractive twenty-something who had unbuttoned an additional one, if not two, buttons on her shirt when she realized Steve sat in her section, brought the box and the check.

  Steve was a good-looking man. It was only natural women would be attracted to him. Sam had to tamp down her simmering irritation, though, when she saw that Lynnette had signed the check with a heart and added her phone number on the back.

  “Would you be so certain if we hadn’t been together last night?” she asked plainly, saying it loud enough for Lynette to overhear.

  His eyes twinkled as if he knew what she was doing. “Yes,” he said on a laugh.

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked. “I was upset with Mr. Santori. There were eyewitnesses who seemed only too glad to say so.”

  “Sweetheart, you’ve got the killer instincts of a six-week-old puppy. You just don’t have it in you to be that mean.”

  Sam didn’t know what struck her more, the fact that the endearment rolled so easily off his tongue, or that he had compared her to a puppy.

  “Now, come on. Grab your box and let’s go. There’s something I want to show you.”

  * * *

  Anthony sat in his room, watching the video of the blaze on the news. He stared at the flames, mesmerized by the way they danced. He had made them dance like that. He had always been drawn to fire. Its magnificent beauty. Its terrible power. The beauty of the flames entranced him.

  The camera didn’t do them justice.

  How he wished he could have stayed and watched them in person. Seen their brilliance command the darkness, felt their heat warm his skin, listened to the symphony of whooshes and crackles while they sated their hunger. Fire was the ultimate element. It had the power to destroy. The power to cleanse.

  So few understood that. Not even his mother had understood.

  She used to cry sometimes, asking him to stop playing with fire. She had said she couldn’t afford to keep moving, finding other schools when he let the fire out to play. When she had gotten the job at the resort, she had made him promise.

  He had tried, he really had. He had liked the rooms they had there, and there was plenty of space for him to run around, even if he wasn’t supposed to bother the guests. He had liked hanging out in the kitchens. They had gas stoves and real wood-fired brick ovens. He had often sneaked in there to watch the flames as they danced for him.

  Then that nosy girl had found him playing one day and said she was going to tattle …

  She never did, though. The fire had protected him, even if it did leave him with scars.

  He didn’t feel bad about the people who had died. It was the girl’s fault, not his. She was the one who had ruined everything. She had thought being the owner’s daughter made her better than everyone else. Better than him.

  It hadn’t.

  He had learned a lot since then. Now he could command the fire. He was its master and the flames obeyed him.

  The café was his gift to Samantha. If it couldn’t be hers, it wouldn’t be anyone’s.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam was quiet on the trip up the mountain road. Every time he glanced over, she was staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. She answered him pleasantly enough when he said something; otherwise, she didn’t seem interested in conversation.

  He couldn’t blame her. It was a hell of a thing to be suspected of doing something like that, and by the very townspeople she served every day! He had been outraged on her behalf. Even if she had been upset with the old man, and rightfully so, that was a shitty thing he did. She just didn’t have it in her to torch the place. If those Podunk chiefs shared half a brain between them, they would see that.

  That was why he was making an exception to his usual “rules of separation” and taking her with him up to the site. Generally, he preferred to keep the various segments of his life separate. His work with Church and his former teammates was one segment. His apartment and his relationship with her were another. His personal history, yet another. Organizing his life that way kept things neat and tidy. It was when one segment spilled into another that lines got blurred and boundaries were crossed.

  He was crossing some serious boundaries with her and, God help him, he wanted to obliterate a few of them.

  Bringing Sam here felt right, though. After the day she’d had, she could use a distraction, and quite honestly, he wasn’t willing to leave her behind. He had already told her about the place, and she had seemed really into it, so showing her felt like the next logical step. He might not understand it, but he was a man who had learned to trust and live by his instincts, and they wanted to share this with her.

  “We’re here.” He pulled up and parked in the circular drive behind Mad Dog’s flatbed, then hopped out and opened the passenger door for her.

  “Are you sure about this, Steve?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he lied, still not a hundred percent certain that bringing her here was a good idea. He was overlapping segments. Not only was he revealing another part of himself to her, but he was revealing her to them. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She shrugged, looking past him to the stunning, if somewhat wild, beyond. “I’m not sure I should be here. I feel like an intruder.”

  Had she somehow picked up on his thoughts? She did seem to have an uncanny ability to read him. “Don’t be ridiculous. You offered to help, remember? You should at least have some idea what you’re getting into before you commit.”

  The words came out more like a warning than the tease he had intended. They were still talking about the resort renovations, right?

  Her eyes came back to his, searching. She stared at him for long moments b
efore finally saying, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

  “What if it turns out to be more than you bargained for?”

  She spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing her words. “Despite the last few days, I’m not some fragile, little flower. I appreciate the concern, but it’s not necessary.”

  “I know it’s not necessary. But that’s what neighbors do, right? They look out for each other.”

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, he felt like a first-class dick.

  Her eyes shuttered, and she looked away again, choosing to look at something off in the distance instead of him. Then her lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile. “Yes, that’s what neighbors do. And, not that you need it, but for as long as you’re around, know that I’ll have your back, too. So, as long as we’re here, do I get a tour or what?”

  He reached for her hand, wanting to touch her, but she tucked her hands into her pockets and turned toward the manor house, pretending she hadn’t seen it.

  “Hey, Smoke! It’s about time you got your fucking lazy ass up here,” Mad Dog called from the doorway. “Oh, apologies, ma’am. Didn’t see you there.”

  She laughed. “No apology necessary. I’m Sam. Steve was telling me about what you guys are doing here, and I practically begged him to let me tag along. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Sam? As in, the Sam who’s been providing us with that nectar of the gods every morning?” Heff suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The shirtless bastard had his long, dark hair tied back, the diamond stud in his ear almost as bright as his megawatt smile. He sauntered up to Sam and kissed her hand. “These guys call me Heff, but you can call me anything you want.”

  She blushed. She fucking blushed.

  An irrational rage washed over Steve. He stepped up, put his hand on Heff’s shoulder, and gave him a shove. “Knock it off, Casanova.”

  “Sorry, beautiful lady,” Heff said, affecting a half-bow. “Didn’t know you were spoken for.”

  “I’m not,” she said quickly, without even looking his way. “Steve and I are just neighbors.”

  Heff’s grin grew wider before he held out his arm. “In that case, allow me to introduce you to everyone and show you around.”

  “I was just about to do that,” Steve said, his voice coming out in a growl.

  * * *

  Sam stared at the gorgeous, raven-haired guy who had kissed her hand. Golden, tanned skin stretched over lean, cut muscles, accentuated by intricate tattoos adorning his chest and shoulders. A thin trail of fine, dark hair arrowed down and disappeared beneath a pair of jeans that sat low on his hips. Dark eyes sparkled with mischief. She immediately pegged him as a player.

  Steve stepped up closer to her, his body tense. If Sam didn’t know better, she would swear Steve was being territorial, maybe even jealous, but that was probably a combination of her imagination and a bit of wishful thinking on her part. Hadn’t he just finished telling her that they were just friends? That message had come across loud and clear.

  “That’s okay, Steve,” Sam said evenly. “You’ve already done so much.”

  Steve made another growly sound, but before he could say anything else, another man emerged from the building. Taller than both Heff and Steve, he carried himself with the authority of a natural born leader. Shaggy, chestnut-colored hair formed a perfect frame for his angled, masculine face. He looked different than the last time she had seen him, but she would remember those soulful, golden-brown eyes anywhere.

  “Matt? Matt Winston?”

  His face was wary until he got closer. “Have we met?”

  A small part of her was disappointed he hadn’t recognized her, but she couldn’t blame him. The last time she had seen him, he had been the most popular guy in the senior class, and her freshman body hadn’t yet developed enough to ever appear on his radar.

  “My grandparents had a bakery. We used to provide some of the breads and baked goods for the resort. Even made a lot of the cakes for special occasions.”

  His eyes widened in recognition. “Sammy Appelhoff? Little Sammy?”

  When she nodded, he pulled her into a hug, surprising her.

  She laughed. “Not so little anymore.”

  He let her down and held her back to look at her. “I’ll say.”

  She laughed again. “Looks like you’ve done a little growing of your own. When Steve told me about what you guys were doing, I had no idea he was talking about you. Someday you’ll have to explain to me how you got the nickname ‘Church,’ because from what I remember, you were no choir boy.”

  He laughed but didn’t bother denying it. “So, you’re Smoke’s neighbor, huh? I had no idea you were still around. How are your grandparents? Do they still have that bakery on 2nd street? You wanted to take over the business, yeah?”

  “I can’t believe you remember that,” she said, surprised. “But no. They passed when I was still in college.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Sammy. They were good people.”

  She nodded. “Your family was good people, too, Matt. It was awful, what happened.”

  A shadow fell over his face. She was aware of the others coming their way, and she had the distinct impression that was not a conversation he wanted to continue, so she said, “So, you’re rebuilding, huh? I think that’s awesome.”

  He nodded. “Bring it in, guys,” he called. “Come meet an old friend of mine.”

  The others moved closer. In addition to Steve and the Lothario called Heff, there was a blond guy with nice hazel eyes; another with naturally wavy, auburn locks and vivid green eyes; and the big, hulking guy who had shouted obscenities at Steve when they had first arrived.

  “Old friend, huh?” Blondie said with an easy, teasing smile. Sam liked him immediately.

  “Sammy, this is Doc.” He pointed at Blondie. “Cage.” He nodded at the auburn cutie. “And Mad Dog.” He looked to the one called Heff, who smiled.

  “We’ve already met.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Matt said under his breath. “Guys, this is Sammy. Or, do you prefer Samantha now?”

  “Sam works.”

  “Sam, it is. Do you have time to hang around for a while, or do you have to get back?”

  “I have some time,” she said. That was pretty much all she had right now. “I’d love to have a look around, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course. If you give me a minute to rinse off, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  “I’d like that,” she said quickly before Steve had a chance to object. “It’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

  “How come he gets to play tour guide?” she heard Heff grumble.

  “Because he’s the boss,” Doc answered.

  “I’ll be up at the main house. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.” Steve turned and stalked away before she could respond. He seemed angry, but she couldn’t imagine why.

  She chatted a little with the others until Matt returned.

  “I’d forgotten how beautiful it is here,” Sam said, sitting on what remained of the old boathouse and looking out at the lake. They had walked a good part of the perimeter, Matt explaining what he had planned for each phase. He didn’t talk about the past, and she didn’t bring it up. Losing loved ones in a tragic fire was something they had in common, even if he didn’t realize that.

  “You’re doing a good thing here, Matt.”

  Matt leaned his hip against a sturdy-looking pylon. “Hope so,” he said simply. “So … you and Smoke, huh?”

  “It’s not like that,” she told him. “He’s just helping me out a little, is all.”

  “Hmm …” he hummed thoughtfully.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He ignored her question and asked one of his own. “What kind of help, Sam? Are you in trouble?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said evasively.

  “I’ve known Smoke a long time, Sam. Never known him to act without cause.”

  “Well, there�
��s a first time for everything,” she countered.

  “All right, Sam. Message received loud and clear. I’ll butt out.”

  They walked backed toward the main house.

  “I think plenty of townspeople would be willing to get behind this project, myself included.”

  “Thanks, Sam. I appreciate that, but we got it covered.”

  She knew a thanks-but-no-thanks when she heard one. “Okay. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  They got back to the top just as the guys were finishing up for the day.

  “Hey, Sam, we’re all going to head into town and grab some dinner. Want to join us?” Blondie—Doc—asked.

  She cast a look at Steve, who was staring earnestly somewhere else.

  After everything that had happened that day—the fire, the questioning, Steve’s “friend” talk, Matt’s polite decline, and Steve’s sulky demeanor—all she wanted to do was go back to her place and soak in a hot bath with a cup of tea, then curl up with a good book in her own bed.

  “I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

  She climbed into the Jeep with Steve. They were a couple of miles down the road when he said, “So, you know Church, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you close?” He asked the question casually, but the muscles in his neck were tense. Is that what was bugging him?

  “No, not really. I’m surprised he even remembered me.”

  The rest of the ride was quiet. She didn’t offer any additional information, and he didn’t ask.

  When he pulled into the parking lot, he said, “Listen, Sam, you should come out with us tonight.”

  He had said exactly what she wanted to hear, but not convincingly. The fact that he was staring out the window instead of looking at her confirmed it. He was being nice, but he didn’t really want her there.

  They had been spending a lot of time together. Maybe they were both due for a break. She knew she was. Her head was pounding; a maelstrom of mixed signals and hurt feelings.

  “Nah. I’m good.”

  “I’ll stop by later when I get back.”

  “Don’t bother,” she said, climbing out of the Jeep. “I’ll be asleep well before then. I’m beat.”