Last Chance: Navy SEAL erotic romance (SEALs Crossfire Novella 1) (4 page)

He looked down, defeated. I turned away from him, not wanting to see or acknowledge the look in his eyes. The pain in my chest eased as I looked away. When I looked up he was gone.

***

Fifteen minutes later I was gathering my bags to leave for work and heading to the door. I couldn’t get the look on Chance’s face out of my head. I didn’t mean what I said, I just wanted to hurt him, the way he hurt me. Shaking my head with disgust at myself, I ambled to my car. I snagged the door handle and yanked, taking my frustrations out on inanimate objects.

I tossed my bags on the passenger seat of my four-door Civic and slid behind the wheel. Movement in the rear-view mirror caught my eye and I thought someone was behind the car. However, before I could turn a black-gloved hand went around my mouth. I choked back a scream but then relaxed against my seat back, assuming it was just Chance. A look in my rearview mirror had my eyes widening in fear. Chance wasn’t the man in my back seat with his hand over my mouth. The last thing I saw were his cold, blue eyes and then everything went black.

***

Chance frowned, something was amiss in his house and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something was missing, something that was there when he left to see McKenzie. He decided to walk through the whole house, room by room, to determine what was off. The absence made him panic inside, his gut telling him that his time was up. He started in the living room, his trained SEAL eyes combing every space he walked into.

He froze in his bedroom, the place where he began, the place where he first had the feeling. That’s when he noticed the papers, the printout of the information on McKenzie’s background, that he had sitting on his nightstand, were gone. Panic gripped him like a vice, his stomach reeling. They had McKenzie, they knew who she was. He hadn’t done enough to protect her.

“Fuck!” He screamed, yanking his gun from the back waistband of his jeans.

Chance took off like a shot out of the front door and ran at full speed across the lawn between his and McKenzie’s homes. She was getting into her car and she didn’t see him, waving like a mad man as he ran towards her. That was when he saw him, the man in black, in the backseat of her car. Chance slowed, feeling like he would never reach her, that she would be taken right in front of him. His SEAL training kicked and he moved methodically toward the end of the lawn, and then turned back in the direction of her driveway. He had made sure the man didn’t see him approach.

Chance approached the car, creeping low up to the trunk. He was hoping to catch the man off guard. Through the window he could see McKenzie, stiff with fear, the man’s gloved hand across her mouth. Chances blood boiled and he vowed to rip the hand right off of the man when he caught him. He moved quietly around to the driver’s side of the car, crouching below the window line. His gun poised he peeked into the window, only to see the man hit McKenzie in the head with the butt of his gun. Chance cursed under his breath, his heart pounding. He wanted nothing more than to wrench open the car door and pull the man out. His training stopped him; he needed to assess the situation further. For all he knew there could be more men somewhere else on the property.

The man in black scooted to the car door and began to open it. Chance fell back behind the car, flattening himself on the ground. He heard the man open the driver’s side door and grunt. Chance’s heart stopped, he was lifting McKenzie from the car. It was now or never.

Chance jumped up and leveled his gun at the man, “Put her down asshole.”

The man gave a Chance a condescending smile that made his stomach turn.

“Put your gun down, McBride.” Chance knew the Colombian accent but couldn’t place it.

Chance whipped around, that was when he recognized him, it was a man he loathed. Carlos Saravia, the man with a bounty on Chance’s head, was pointing a gun at him.

“Just let the girl go, Saravia.” Chance said, not taking his eye off of the man who held McKenzie.

Saravia scoffed and pulled back the hammer on his gun. “Now why would I do that? I just found an insurance policy that you would do whatever I wanted you to do.”

Chance grimaced but held steady. “I’m right here, you found me. Take me and let her go.”

Chance’s feeble barter made Saravia laugh again. “I do not think you understand, McBride. I will keep the girl until you give me what I want, and then I will kill you.”

Saravia nodded his head at the other man and he took off down the driveway with McKenzie, heading toward a black van parked on the street. Chance kicked himself for not noticing it this morning, but he had been so wrapped up with McKenzie he didn’t notice much of anything.

“Saravia, please,” He begged as the Colombian moved quickly after his man.

Saravia turned back one last time before disappearing into the van, “And I wouldn’t bother shooting me as I walk away, because then your girlfriend won’t make it to tomorrow.”

Chance watched in horror as Saravia entered the van and sped off. He ran after it down the street until he couldn’t see it any longer. McKenzie was gone, and it was all his fault. Chance dug his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number from memory. The person answered on the first ring.

“Rick, it’s Chance. I fucked up, man. I need your help.”

“Chance? Chance, is it really you?” Rick gasped, sounding confused, “They told us you were dead.”

Chance shook his head, as if the caller could see him, “No, I’ve been in Philly under protection. I need you guys. I need the whole team. You have to help me retrieve someone.”

“From who?”

“Carlos Saravia.”

“Chance are you crazy?” Rick sounded incredulous.

“I have to, Rick. It’s my fault she’s gone and I need her back.”

Rick heard the urgency in his voice and agreed to call the others. The team was getting back together to retrieve McKenzie, and when he had her safe and sound, Chance would make it right again.

***

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