Dragon (SEAL Team Alpha Book 9)

by Zoe Dawson

  He found himself in the street hailing a cab. When the cabbie stopped, he shoved his duffel into the back seat and said, “JFK.”

  Pitbull pulled up outside Speed’s house and parked. It had been months since he’d seen Helen. As he approached the porch filled with bright blooms, he saw her oldest daughter on the porch swing reading a book, Who’s Your Daddy? It featured a colorful rooster on the front with a tiny yellow chick looking up at him adoringly.

  He stopped, something familiar hitting him and making him study her intently.

  He noticed all of a sudden how her hair was the same color as his, and her cute little face reminded him of someone he couldn’t quite place. He got an odd feeling like it was important that he remember.

  The little girl barely looked up, but he heard her soft voice. “Hello, Uncle Errol.”

  “Samantha. You’re going to rule the world if you keep reading.” He pulled one of the presents out of the brown paper bag he carried.

  “Good. Just call me Madame President. I couldn’t do any worse than who’s president now,” she stated wryly, turning the page. “Thanks for the present, Santa Claus, but you’re about six months late. It better be good.”

  He chuckled and knocked on the door, bracing himself. Helen, looking fresh and beautiful and…damn…happy, opened the door, but the minute she saw him, her expression went guarded. He hated that she had that reaction to him.

  “Errol? It’s been a long time.” Her eyes darted to her daughter. He frowned. Why was she so spooked?

  “Yeah, it has been,” he agreed. Both of them stood there awkwardly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He lifted the bag. “I’ve got overdue gifts.”

  She closed her eyes briefly and opened the screen door, standing to the side so he could enter. “Sammy, you okay, babe?” She glanced at her daughter anxiously, her hand gripping the door. He was used to reading body language, it was crucial in his job, and Helen was as tense as hell.

  “Yes, Mommy. Uncle Errol brought me a Professor Layton game. It’s awesome. You can let him in,” she said deadpan.

  In spite of the tension between them, they both laughed.

  “The door monitor has spoken.”

  “Thank you, Madame President,” he said, bowing.

  She finally raised her eyes from the book and nodded with a glint in her eye. God, he loved that kid. She deserved a better father. But now she was without even that comfort. His sympathy was purely for her and her sister. He knew better than to give Helen any sympathy. That had backfired on him.

  “She’s a character,” she said.

  He entered the house with a wink at Samantha, who gave him a lopsided grin, then went back to her book. What the hell? He got that feeling again. What was it about Speed’s oldest child that reminded him of someone?

  Helen led him to the living room, and he noticed how bright the house was. There was a new coat of paint, flowers everywhere, family pictures hanging in the hall. There was one of Speed with the team. He felt the tug of regret for the loss of his teammates, trying not to resent Speed for his influence on them.

  She walked into the living room, taking one of the side chairs, and he settled on the couch. He set the bag on the coffee table. She seemed nervous as she glanced toward the porch.

  From the kitchen, he could hear girlish singing.

  “It was kind of you to bring us gifts. The girls have missed you, especially Sammy.”

  “As long as I bring something good, I’m stellar.”

  He smiled, and she smiled back.

  He pulled out Elise’s gift and Helen’s.

  He hadn’t seen her youngest, Elise, since she was a toddler. Their shared secret past kept him on the fringes of Helen’s life. Elise had been with her grandmother when Speed died and hadn’t attended the funeral. Elise had been devastated to lose her dad, and Helen had commented that she was too young for such a somber event. Pitbull had to keep his own counsel on that. He’d known Speed for the man he really was, and neglecting his family had only been the tip of the iceberg of his sins. There were times when the brotherhood was an albatross around his neck.

  Speed had been a bastard.

  Pitbull had to admit he wasn’t innocent by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn’t treat women like shit, and he would never hurt one.

  His teammate Dragon was broken up about Speed, but Pitbull had to wonder what had skewed his thinking. Probably the guilt. Really, if he was in touch with his emotions and he hated dipping into the feelings well, he would tell his friend and teammate to let that shit go. Justin “Speed” Myerson wasn’t worth it. Guilt assaulted him. He couldn’t tell Dragon that because he was holding on to his own. He took a breath. He had no idea what the man had suffered at the hands of the rebels, but Speed wasn’t that strong or that noble. Pitbull couldn’t voice those thoughts because that made him a traitor to the brotherhood, but he had to wonder how much he’d projected it, wondered why his brothers had left, why Professor had transferred. Had he been part of the team breakup? That caused him more guilt and responsibility for the loss of camaraderie.

  They just didn’t talk about that side of Speed, and Pitbull tried not to think about the side he’d let slide with Helen.

  The box he handed her was not expertly wrapped, but he wasn’t that kind of guy. It was a flat, square box and the paper was pretty.

  She pulled off the wrapping and opened the box. She pulled out the necklace and held it up, her eyes misting over. “Oh, Errol, it’s beautiful.”

  It was of a koi fish, and his message for her was a hopeful one. His deepest wish was that she was moving on.

  She unclasped it and slipped it around her neck. He set the other box down on the coffee table. “This is for Elise.”

  “Elise?” she called and a little girl with golden hair came through the door. She spotted him. “Uncle Errol!”

  She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hi, sweetheart.” He reached for the box and set it into her hands, and she ripped at the paper to reveal a soft-bodied doll.

  “A dolly! I love her. I’ll name her Sally.”

  “Perfect,” he said, looking up at Helen. She was looking back toward the porch again. Her hand went to the necklace, and she fidgeted with it.

  “Helen, I need to clear the air between us. I need to talk about something that’s been weighing on my mind for some time.”

  She rose and picked up Elise. Pitbull removed the doll from the packaging. “How about a snack, honey. She disappeared into the kitchen and he waited.

  When she came back out, she sat back down, but she was even more on edge. “Errol, the past…is behind us. No. I can’t—”

  “You were separated from him, Helen. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I pledged myself to him, Errol. I lost track of the reason I married him, but he needed me. He was lost.”

  “He was a jerk.”

  She drew herself up, frowning. “He got better.”

  He sighed. “Look, I’m not here to make you feel bad. Hell, I broke the brotherhood code in so many ways. I’m not blameless, but it was hard to see you struggle.”

  She leaned forward. “You were a bright spot in my life through our separation. I know it started out innocently, but I did the right thing in breaking it off and going back to Justin.”

  He nodded. “I respect your decision, but I didn’t come back to rekindle anything or to talk about what we did all those years ago.” He leaned forward. “The memories are bittersweet. I’m fond of you and the girls.”

  “We know that,” she said softly, her eyes gleaming.

  “I wanted you to know I harbored a lot of resentment for him for a long time. When he was taken, I searched myself thinking that I might have been lax…in my duty towards him.”

  She gasped softly, and the tears ran over and slid down her cheeks. “Oh, God, Errol. I don’t know how to process such information. He didn’t deserve to die…like that.”

  “No, he didn’t. I am a SE
AL through and through. He was my teammate. I want to believe that I did everything I could to have his back.” But he had doubts. They kept him up at night—not Speed’s death, but his own hand in his capture. Had Pitbull done everything he could? Or had he turned away, letting someone else be the solid teammate he should have been? “I want to believe I did.”

  Speed had been Pitbull’s best friend during BUD/S. Speed had cajoled, pushed, and shoved him through the toughest training on the planet. He had regrets because without that support, he might not have made it.

  Pitbull’s disillusionment with his friend’s treatment of Helen had driven them apart. They weren’t friends, but they were still on the same team, and that came with responsibilities. The first time Speed had shown up at his door, his fists bruised and bloody, he thought he was in trouble. But when he wouldn’t talk about it, drunk and angry, Pitbull took him home. It wasn’t until he saw Helen’s face, the bruises, the fear in her eyes, the holes in the walls that he started to lose respect for his teammate. After that he tried to talk to Speed about it, but he wouldn’t listen. Told Pitbull that everything was okay. Helen had forgiven him, and he was going to counseling. But that had been a lie.

  Her eyes filled, and she looked away. “Are you saying you left him vulnerable?”

  “Mommy, why are you crying?”

  Pitbull turned to look at Elise as doubts assailed him. Had he?

  Even as he pondered that question, his eyes shifted to a picture of Sammy when she’d been a baby. He fumbled for his wallet as Helen rose and went to the kitchen to get her daughter a drink.

  He pulled out the picture of his mom when she’d been little. Disbelief rocked through him, shock exploding, his gut clenching hard. The memories of them making love, how out of control their relationship had been, how much they were each trying to alleviate the loneliness, the pain, the complexity of what they were doing. Making love to your buddy’s wife was so not cool, but he comforted her through it until she’d come to him and broken it off.

  They had never mentioned it or talked about it again, but it was heavy on his mind wondering if she thought he might have let Speed die. It made him sick to think that maybe he had.

  That crushed him.

  When Helen came back into the room, he rose quickly. “I have to go.”

  She frowned, her face going a little wary. “Of course. Thank you again for coming by.”

  But looking at her oldest child, he felt hopelessly devastated. He reeled, and there were no handholds for him to grab onto. He realized suddenly that Speed wasn’t the kid’s dad.

  He was.

  Dragon was still trembling from the overdose of adrenaline in his system. He was at the airport, everyone bustling around him. A woman stopped by his chair, eyeing his duffel. “Are you in the service?” she asked politely.

  He raised his eyes to hers and he saw sympathy in them. “Yes, ma’am. Navy.”

  She smiled wistfully, her eyes softening. “My son was in the Navy. Thank you for your service, young man. Thank you for all you sacrifice to keep us safe.”

  “Is your son out now?” he asked, desperately needing the distraction.

  She stopped and turned. “He was killed in action.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “So am I. Have a safe trip.”

  The reminder of what he did for a living made him sit up straighter. He had to wonder at his mom’s reaction. How could she have been unaware that Ceri was her grandchild? He closed his eyes as doubts, terrible doubts surfaced. Had she been in denial?

  Deep down, did she blame him for Asahi’s death? He had lived with that fear for a long time, his shield of neutrality sending it deep and out of sight. But now it roared back. She refused to let him come home. Every time he suggested it, she would immediately say no and make plans to visit him.

  He picked up his phone, and thumbed to recents, pushing the call icon on Pitbull’s number.

  The phone rang several times and he was expecting it to go to voicemail when Pitbull answered.

  “Dragon? What’s up?”

  He sounded funny and Dragon said, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Pitbull cleared his throat. “No, this is fine. Are you okay?”

  “No.”

  “Crap. What happened?”

  “Something monumental that I can’t even wrap my head around right now.”

  “I’m assuming you didn’t call me to be vague, junior.”

  “I just found out I’m a father.”

  There was complete silence on the other end of the line, and it felt as tension-filled as Dragon’s chest right now.

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “No. She’s amazing, bright, and funny.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Five.”

  “Damn,” Pitbull swore softly. “How do you know she’s yours?”

  “She looks just like me and my…brother.”

  “What are you going to do about it? Do you want them in your life?”

  His gut knotted, and he found it hard to breathe. It felt as if Pitbull had a hard squeeze around his heart. He had a hard time keeping it together. His voice was so strained it didn’t sound like his own when he answered. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do know.” Pitbull sighed. “Where are you now?”

  “Airport. I bolted like a coward.”

  “You needed time to think. You are not a coward, man, far from it, so stop with that shit. Thinking things over…I know about that.”

  Pit’s voice cracked a bit, and Dragon got a bad feeling. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m dealing with stuff, but this call is about you, not me.”

  “God, we’re fucked up.”

  “You can say that again.” There was another pregnant pause, then Pitbull said, “You owe it to yourself to see this through. You need to make decisions that are going to affect not only you, but a little girl you brought into this world. If you come back home, there won’t be any answers here, man.”

  His gut churned as his flight was called. They were boarding the plane. He’d been here most of the day, and he wasn’t any closer to handling the situation. He’d reacted badly, and now he was ashamed of running out on Jo…again.

  “I had…think I still have feelings for the mom. I haven’t been able to forget her. Now I have even more admiration for her for taking on the responsibility of raising this child…my kid. God, Pit…” Dragon’s voice broke and it took a moment for him to gather his composure.

  “Then there’s something there. Why didn’t she tell you about the daughter?”

  “She didn’t know how to contact me. It was a one-night stand.”

  “Then neither of you are to blame. You didn’t know. You can’t be expected to act on something you had no clue about.”

  “Yeah, I get it, but this is fucked up.”

  “Life is fucked up,” Pitbull said. “You need me there?”

  “No, I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

  “I have your back, Ry. You know that, right?”

  He sounded tentative for the first time since they had been teammates. “Yeah, man, I know that. I always know that.”

  “Call me whenever you want, and if I need to fly there, you tell me that too. I can be there tomorrow.”

  “Will do.” Hell, Pitbull sounded like he wanted to run away. Dragon had to wonder what he was running from. He was the most courageous man he knew. Dragon disconnected the call and checked his phone again.

  He ran his hand through his hair and looked down at his phone again as if something had changed from seconds ago. Nothing. No phone call. No message. No email. His heart sank. It was clear she’d moved on without him, raised his daughter alone. It hurt his heart thinking about her pregnant, going through the birth by herself.

  He sat there hurting and unsure. It was strange how learning about Ceri changed everything. Having her in his life required a whole new perspective—as if he had a whole new focus.
He leaned back and released a pent-up breath. Humor creased his mouth. He would constantly be on his toes, waiting for her to bring up something else that was interesting or forbidden or not talked about in public. She would amuse him on a regular basis. But there was more to it than that. It was also knowing, when he fought for his country, he would be fighting for her.

  “Last call for San Diego,” the attendant called. Dragon moved toward the dwindling line. He hadn’t seen Jo in six years, but she had always been bright in his mind. When he’d heard her voice, it rekindled all those feelings he’d had for her so long ago and had harbored ever since. He’d chosen not to go home, and if he was being honest, he had been relieved that he hadn’t been welcomed by his mom. Maybe she didn’t need him—maybe neither of them needed him. And maybe it would be better for that little girl if he disappeared again.

  4

  Jo held on to Gen as she absorbed the shock of living with her own granddaughter for three months and extending her support ever since Jo moved next door. She closed her eyes, the look on Ryuu’s face cutting her to the quick. She hated to think he was out there in the city hurting about this, but men needed to be by themselves when they got some heavy-duty emotions to deal with. Jo had so much time to get used to being pregnant, birthing her daughter and raising her. She’d had five years. He’d had only about fifteen minutes.

  She let go of Gen and knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of plate. Ceri came down the hall and said, “What happened?”

  “Gen dropped some plates by mistake. Everything is fine.”

  “Where’s her handsome son?”

  “Ceri, you need to finish getting dressed and make sure you pack everything you need for dance class. I’ll pick you up from school to get you there in time.”

  “Okay, Mommy.” She smiled at Gen. “Don’t worry. Everyone makes mistakes,” she said, turning and skipping down the hall. As soon as her door closed, Gen broke into tears, and Jo went back to her.