“Unfortunately,” she continued, “that is a question I’ll never be able to answer.”
They locked eyes, and understanding crossed his face. If there ever was a man who would be able to accept her reality, it was him. A DEVGRU SEAL who upheld secrecy at all costs would understand an operative who was legally bound to shut the fuck up.
He leaned in and kissed her. “I get it. Hell, I get it more than anything.” His ripe lips played on hers, sending electric signals up and down her throat, promising more.
“Do you?” she asked between kisses.
“There’ll have to be a lot of blind trust in this relationship,” he said. “I think we were made for each other.”
“Relationship?” The word was foreign to her, especially in the context of her life. “I don’t deserve this.” She looked up at him.
“I’ve done fucked-up shit,” he stated bluntly. “You’ve done fucked-up shit. We’re even. Can we move forward?”
“You don’t understand what I’ve done,” she said quietly. “If you did, you wouldn’t want me.”
He shook his head. “That’s not true.”
“It is. I can’t sully you.” Her frustration rose. Why wasn’t he seeing it? She was a liar and a cheat. And probably a criminal.
“My last operation—you know what I saw?” His voice carried the same frustration and passion. The energy in the room increased. “I saw—and was part of—enough fucked-up shit to make your crimes look laughable. We killed a bunch of fucking detained teenagers. And guess what. They were unarmed and tied up. And we fucking popped them.” Mason choked it out.
She reached up and held onto him tightly. “I know,” she whispered.
He leaned back in surprise, his eyebrows high. “What?”
She exhaled long and deep. “I did a little… hacking. After I came back, I had to know what my boss had on you. And that’s all I’m ever going to say. I shouldn’t even be saying this. Just know that I’ve done a lot of bad shit.” She nodded. “But you shouldn’t have anything to worry about anymore.”
Mason’s eyes bore into hers. Studying. “You… hack?”
Indeed, her skills were wide and varied.
“Oh, and I ripped your phone,” she squeaked. “So sorry.” She pressed her eyes closed but peeked in time to see Mason’s mouth drop open in shock. His eyes were wild and assessing.
“What?”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t see—”
“I fucking love you,” he cut in, grabbing her body and pulling her fast and hard on top of him. “I absolutely fucking love the shit out of you. I can’t believe everything you’ve done… for me… and… Jesus.”
He crashed his mouth against hers, quick and hot. His tongue entered and tasted her. All of her mouth. She missed how he felt, tasted, and smelled when his face was pressed against hers.
She pushed him back on the bed and straddled him, pulling her face back. Not long ago, he’d been a stranger, but she felt like they’d come to know each other well enough.
Well enough to recognize how she felt.
He tried to pull her face back down to his.
“No. I’ve got something to say.” She swatted his hand away. “Listen up.”
He grinned in response to her orders. She knew she would shortly pay for it. But she had to say her piece. “Those days with you on the island were the best days of my life,” she began. “I know life isn’t always going to be a honeymoon, but in a very short time, you’ve made a very big impact on me.”
Avery paused, and he reached up to bring her down again. She grabbed onto his wrists and pinned him down in her best operative move. He grinned even harder, his eyes plotting and wild. She was about to get seriously punished by her SEAL.
“Mason, I love you too,” she said softly, and a sweet and sensitive smile crossed her lips. A hot tear dropped onto his chest as he lay below her. “Because you are the only person in this whole world who makes me feel like a somebody. Like I deserve a life.”
He quickly twisted his wrists from her grasp and brought her back down onto him. “Of course you do. Of course,” he said as he brought her mouth to his. “You live here now. This is your life. Make yourself at home.”
It was a command. He would brook no debate. She wondered if he meant what she hoped he did: permanence. And then he just came out and said it. She knew there was a reason she’d fallen for him. He was much better at being direct than she was.
“You don’t think I’m going to let you leave me again, do you?” he teased. “You’re stuck here now. With me. There is no life without you. Consider yourself captive, and me your captor.”
As he pulled her in closer, she realized that she might have lost one path, but she had found another. And maybe this new path would turn out to be all the more fulfilling for it.
18
Mason sipped a hot coffee on his walkout oceanside patio. In the fall, Virginia Beach wasn’t as hot and tropical as the Maldives, but his favorite part of the Maldives had come back with him, so he had that.
His heart was full and flush. Things were turning up right with Avery. She was there. She’d found him. Hell, she’d quit her mystery job for him. He knew enough to know that what she’d done for him was risky and monumental. It was a huge gesture.
He understood the risk. The rules. He understood secrecy and what the NDA meant. Maybe he would never know exactly what she did or what she was supposed to do, but they’d had a chat, and they’d come to an agreement.
Like, she wouldn’t rip his phone again.
At the core of it, he just had to decide if he believed her. If he believed in her. If he believed she’d done it all to help him. The answer came to him in the blink of an eye: he believed in her one hundred percent. And hell—he knew it wasn’t easy. She was taking a stand for what she thought was right.
It was a damn good lesson.
She had shown him that he couldn’t run from his problems. The conversation with Blackshot brought that to his attention. It was time to remember who he was. He’d joined the Navy to fight for what he believed in. And he’d had it in him all along.
Being a SEAL was a job, and his job didn’t define him. If he had to sacrifice that job to do what was right, then so be it.
Blackshot could threaten his career and his future in the special forces. Mason didn’t give a fuck anymore. What Blackshot had done in the Sahel was wrong, and it was wrong for the troop commander to allow it. To condone it. Big Navy had some serious problems on their hands. When had they become so apathetic?
Mason wasn’t going to be a passenger anymore. He wasn’t going to be apathetic. He was going to find a way to stand up for what he believed in.
He was going to speak up.
He set his empty glass on the patio table. Avery had told him that when he decided to do the right thing, the opportunity would present itself. All Mason needed to do was start talking—to the right person. And Avery knew someone. Someone who fixed things.
She was a woman who believed in that type of stuff. She was also a woman who made things happen. Hell, she’d snuck whisky into his bag. She’d broken into his villa and then his house. What else did she have up her sleeve? How did she plan to save his ass?
Just as Mason was pondering this, watching the seagulls fly on the horizon, uninvited company joined him on his property.
A refined-looking man with dark-brown hair and black-rimmed glasses walked onto his patio and sat down.
Point blank.
Mason gasped, his body tensing. What the fuck?
“Can I help you?” he demanded, indignant.
The man turned to him and nodded. “Yes, I believe you can,” he said in a sincere tone.
Mason frowned.
“Don’t go to the Sahel again. You can start with that.” The man looked to be in his mid- to late thirties. He took off his stylish glasses and wiped sand off them. He seemed casual and unfazed, which only furthered Mason’s discomfort.
“What the hell?” Mas
on made to stand up, but the man motioned him to stop.
“Please. I’m a friend of Avery’s.” He held out his hand. “Aidan King.” Aidan King leaned over and shook Mason’s hand.
Mason looked back at the patio doors, hoping Avery would quickly be out. He should have known this would happen. He just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.
And that’s why he had fallen in love with her. He’d never met a woman like her, and he knew they’d be a potent team.
He sat back down. “I’m Mason. But I’m sure you already know that.”
Aidan nodded and continued. “I worked with Avery for a long time. But I’m not doing this on her behalf.”
“Doing what?”
Aidan leaned in. “Helping you,” he said in hushed tones. “I’m selfish. Helping you really helps me. So let’s help each other.”
Aidan’s face was serious and concerned. Mason got the feeling that he was some sort of spy. Or an agent. An operator?
Aidan reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a wallet. He fished inside and handed a business card to Mason. Mason palmed it and ran his fingers over the blue lettering. Aidan King, Intelligence Officer, CIA.
Holy fuck, Mason thought. Avery’s friend? What exactly did she do?
“How do you know Avery? Did you work together?” Mason asked.
Aidan shot him a coy look. “I don’t think you’ll ever find an answer to those questions.” He grinned. “But suffice to say, I know her in a professional context.”
Mason looked down at the business card again. Had Avery worked for the CIA? The CIA regularly worked alongside the SEALs. The Navy could have farmed out internal investigations to them. That would make sense. But was it true?
In the same way Mason knew Avery had a heart of gold, his instincts told him that Aidan was legit. Especially if Avery had referred him. She’d worked her way into Mason’s circle of trust. And that circle included only a handful of people: Avery, Jake, Ryder, and his dad.
Aidan King wore a concerned and serious expression, watching Mason carefully. “I can’t tell you why. I can only tell you that you can’t go back to the Sahel.”
The warning was well-received. Aidan was saying something that had been in the back of Mason’s mind for a long time.
“Your senior chief wants to silence any dissidence and save himself from trouble,” Aidan continued. “But trouble is coming, and he can’t avoid it forever.”
Mason could see that the man was trying to tell him something without saying too much—a tactic that Avery used a lot. Mason had no doubt there was a lot more behind what Aidan King was saying.
“Why me?” Mason demanded. “I’ve been nothing but cooperative.”
Aidan paused, considering his words. “It comes down to what you could say about what happened.”
“But I haven’t said anything,” Mason grumbled.
And then Aidan asked the fateful question. “Do you want to?”
Their eyes connected, and the air grew thick.
Mason thought of Avery. He thought of all he’d been through. All he’d witnessed. Mason knew he’d once been a better man: a man who stood up for what he believed in. Avery reminded Mason that it was never too late to do what was right.
“Fucking right, I do,” Mason growled at Aidan. “My senior chief is a corrupt fucker who doesn’t play by the rules. It’s not just that he’s dragging us all down. He’s ruining lives. I can’t stand by and watch it anymore.”
“Tell me everything you know,” Aidan said solemnly. “I have a plan. Stay low. Stay alert. And stay the hell away from the troop. I’ll be in touch with a meeting time so we can properly tap into your knowledge.” He stood up.
“I can’t stay away.” Mason pushed out from the table and stood up as well, squaring himself with Aidan. “I can’t desert my post.” He was due to report for duty soon. He couldn’t just up and leave. That’s not how the Navy worked. Blackshot was looking for a reason to court-martial him. And the easiest way to silence Mason would be to drag his reputation through the mud.
Aidan fished again into his dark blue jacket and pulled out a document-sized brown envelope. He flopped it on the table in front of Mason. “Master Chief Ryder Luciano approved this for you this morning.”
Mason raised his eyebrows and pulled out the documents. It was an approved extended leave. A sabbatical. Same one that Jake had taken. How the hell?
“Jesus. Ryder always comes through,” Mason breathed in disbelief. “The man is a saint.” The master chief seemed to be the only man in command who could be trusted. Who had Mason’s back. Who was willing to stand up to Big Navy.
“I think I should meet him,” Aidan laughed.
Mason nodded. “He’s probably got a lot to say.”
The news was clearly interesting to Aidan, who returned a nod in understanding.
Mason hugged the papers tightly. He had six months of fucking time off before he was due back.
And he had Avery.
With that, Aidan swept away as quickly and quietly as he had come, promising to be in touch and leaving Mason in a shroud of questions.
And just as Mason found himself alone again, Avery came out onto the patio.
Placing her hand on Mason’s shoulder, she said, “I saw.”
Mason turned and brought her in for a bear hug. Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “Babe, did you work for the CIA?”
Avery shrugged nonchalantly in reply, which only made Mason laugh. He wondered if he’d stumbled across her big secret. He had so many questions for her, none of which he could ask. And he respected her loyalty and promise to keep her word.
He clutched the leave papers like they were going to fly away. But they were just photocopies, anyway. The real documents were at the office, probably being filed with the clerks. How the hell was he going to thank Ryder? The man had just saved his life. Yet again. Now he got to do something he always wanted to do…
“You put everything on the line for me.” He couldn’t withhold his surprise. “Everything. I don’t know what to say.”
She shook her head, but Mason grabbed her and whipped her around, into his lap. “Babe,” he said, raising her chin. “Babe.” She smiled, and he felt her in his arms. This real woman. This strong, brave, courageous woman. She was perfect in every way, even if she didn’t know it. He did. And he would never forget it.
“You are incredible,” he whispered, bringing her lips to his. “Hot and smart and cool…”
“Are you in grade five?” she teased.
Mason stared at Avery’s beautiful face and her hands caressing his chest. “Remember that dream you had—backpacking through Europe?”
“Yes.” She smiled brightly. “Oh, please…”
“It’s time to make that dream a reality. How about we start in France? Pay our respects to the soldiers resting at Omaha Beach.”
Her eyes twinkled with tears. They both had good reason to remember and thank the fallen soldiers before them.
“I love you.” She kissed him long and soft. “I love you. I love you.”
He pulled her back and studied her beautiful, heart-shaped face framed with cascading dark hair and predatory blue eyes. Damn right, she was a predator, just like him. They belonged together. They were fighters.
Epilogue
Days Later
Senior Chief Liam Blackshot stared down a line of white powder decorating the top of a photo frame. With a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill in hand, he leaned in and snorted the line through his already angry red nostrils.
The drug shot into his body, tingling as it drew a line through his nasal cavity and exploding into his brain. When he opened his eyes, he felt hyper-focused. Aware.
The phone at his work desk rang.
“Yup,” he answered, bringing the receiver to his ear.
“What the fuck is this?” the troop commander snarled into the phone. “Ajax is on leave?”
Blackshot sat upright, staring around the marginal military office in
disbelief. “What the…?”
“Approved by your master chief, Ryder Luciano!” The angry voice rang out again, nearly spitting through the receiver. “What did I fucking tell you about those two? I gave you one job. One job! Deal with them. I don’t want them to be my fucking problem anymore. Finish them, or I’ll fucking finish you.” And the boss hung up.
Blackshot rubbed his face aggressively and fumbled in his pocket for another dime bag. One line wasn’t enough to deal with that shit.
Those guys used to be his friends. Brothers. He used to care. He used to do things right. Where did he go wrong?
He found the dime bag and made another line on the glass of the photo frame. He quickly snorted it up, letting it sink in until he felt good again. Until he stopped feeling pain. Until he felt numb.
He looked down through the glass at the picture it protected. Years ago, as junior SEALs, he and Ryder Luciano had stood beside each other. Proud. Beaming. They’d made it through selection. They’d made it through their first deployment to Iraq.
If he weren’t so fucking high, he’d almost cry. But those days—the days when he felt anything at all—were long gone. Blackshot gritted his teeth until he saw blood drip out of his mouth. He only had one friend now. One ally. And that was the troop commander. Fuller was the only person keeping him alive and saving him from himself.
Blackshot grabbed the photo frame and whipped it across the room with a biting sneer. The glass shattered, and the frame exploded.
Blood from his mouth dripped onto his deployment papers for Mali. He was going back. So was Ryder. He would handle him there, and finally deal with their unfinished business.
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Eyes On Page 13