Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) (14 page)

Matthew shrugged, looking uncomfortable.
“Some friend of Bri’s called her to say Ella was working a shift
tonight. Another waitress who works there, I guess. Now Brianna’s
all upset about it.”

“That’s the place where Brianna was
attacked?” Patrick asked, his gaze narrowing.

“Hell, she’s smarter than that,” Mike
muttered. “Why would she go back there?”

“I guess she needs the cash,” Matthew said.
“Brianna’s pretty riled up about it though. She’s been trying to
call her since she found out, but Ella’s not picking up her phone.
After watching her quit that night we were all down there, I’m
surprised she’d be back there at all.”

“Fuck,” Brent muttered.

The eyes of his teammates all swept toward
him.

“She said she had a new job lead. That’s why
she was leaving early and flying back to Florida today instead of
over the weekend.” His gut clenched as he imagined Ella back there
in one of those skimpy little outfits. When he and his buddies had
gone there for a couple of drinks, he’d fucking loved the low-cut
bodices baring plenty of cleavage and frilly skirts that just
barely covered the waitresses’ asses. But to imagine other men
looking at Ella prancing around in that all night?

Fuck no.

Even if she wasn’t his, she shouldn’t be
there. Ever. He’d drag her out of there kicking and screaming if he
had to. Not that he expected her to put up much of a fight. She
hated that place as much as Brianna. Why the hell would she take a
job like that again even if it did pay well?

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah, she changed her flight,” Matthew
said. “I thought it was because she was pissed off at you.”

Brent nailed him with a glare. “Thanks
asshole. She left because she needed to see about a job.”

“When did she say that?” Patrick asked,
looking curious.

“Last night,” Brent said, not offering up
any further details.

“What, right before you almost slept with
her?” Mike laughed. “Doesn’t seem like your usual type of pillow
talk. ‘Let me fuck you senseless—by the way, got any new job
leads?’”

“No, asshole,” Brent muttered. “We were
heading back to my motorcycle after we grabbed some food. She told
me she had changed her flight.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “You took a
woman out to dinner?” A smile tugged at his lips, and Brent could
tell he was resisting the urge to laugh. “When should we expect the
wedding invitations?”

“Fuck you,” Brent said. “We grabbed some
pizza after pool. I was hungry; she was hungry. Big fucking
deal.”

Mike shook his head and grinned. “Never
thought I’d see the day.”

“What?” Brent asked, irritated. “I can’t
have a goddamn pizza without you getting up my ass?”

Christopher laughed. “You know what they
say—‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ Brent buying a
woman dinner must be the equivalent of any other man getting down
on one knee.” He grabbed a beer from the tray their waitress
brought over and took a long swig. “Didn’t think Brent would ever
fucking fall for anyone though.”

Brent clenched his fists, glaring at his
entire team.

“Don’t forget he didn’t even sleep with
her,” Mike quipped. “That’s true love right there. Any other woman,
and Brent would already know details on the type of panties she was
wearing. And so would we.”

The others howled with laughter, and Brent
ground his teeth as anger roiled through him. The fuck they knew
about anything. He sure as shit wasn’t telling them anything about
Ella’s panties. Ever. His stomach turned at the thought of the
nameless woman’s panties his brother had found stuffed in his sofa.
Yeah, he’d taken her home the other night. Had sex with her right
in his living room. Why the hell did he feel guilty? He was with
several women each week. Sometimes several in one night.

The hell with everyone else.

Matthew groaned, swiping at the screen on
his phone. “Bri wants to fly down there tomorrow. There’s no way
I’m letting her go alone. I can’t believe she’d ever want to step
foot back in that cocktail lounge after what happened.”

“She’s going for Ella,” Brent ground
out.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Matthew drawled. “I
just wasn’t planning on taking a day trip down to Pensacola.”

“That’s a long fucking day,” Patrick said
dryly.

“We can’t go for long. Brianna’s starting
her new job soon. I guess I’ll be booking two tickets though. No
way I’m letting her near that place alone,” Matthew said.

“I’ll go,” Brent ground out. “Don’t buy any
damn tickets.”

Matthew raised his eyebrows. “Ella is pissed
at you. Why the hell would you fly all the way down to
Florida?”

“Hell. Never thought I’d see Cobra chase
after a girl,” Christopher laughed. “You’re smarter than me though.
It took ten years before I found Lexi again, and that was an
accident.”

“I don’t want to see Ella get hurt,” Brent
seethed, tossing some cash on the table for his beers. “What the
fuck is so hard to understand about that?”

“We won’t be wheels up for at least a week,”
Patrick said, his cool blue eyes assessing Brent. “No need to rush
there and back in one day.”

Brent nodded, grumbling to himself. Could
this weekend be any more screwed up? His brother had just flown
into town—albeit disappeared with some random woman. They’d decided
not to spend the anniversary of Lizzie’s death alone, and Brent was
about to blow town.

Was he really about to fly down to Florida
just to get Ella to quit her job?

Fuck no.

He was going to apologize. Do the right
goddamn thing for once. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to
her.

And maybe he’d even admit that he cared
about a woman for the first time ever.

Ella eyed the
coffee maker as it popped and sputtered and failed to produce any
actual coffee the following morning. Sighing, she opened the top,
staring longingly at the coffee grounds. The intoxicating scent was
a tease, though, because what she needed was an entire pot of
strong coffee. She could probably buy a cheap replacement coffee
maker somewhere—the basic model. When she’d stayed at Kenley’s
condo in Virginia Beach, she’d had one of those single-cup brewers
so popular nowadays. With those expensive little cups you stuck in
it.

Geez.

At the rate Ella was going, she was going to
have to get rid of her cell phone plan to make ends meet. Forget
any top-notch kitchen appliance. She’d already stopped buying those
fancy coffee drinks at the café. Not that she really could afford
them to begin with.

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen table, and
she cursed herself for not turning the damn thing off all together.
She already knew that she had to be at work again this evening.
Frank had made sure to put her on the schedule every damn night all
week. And she needed money. Desperately.

The phone buzzed again, and Frank’s name
flashed on the screen.

Come in early tonight. I want to suck on
those pretty tits again.

Nausea roiled through her as sweat dampened
her skin, and she dry heaved into the trash can. What was she doing
wasting her time worrying about coffee for? She had to find another
job immediately. She’d need two to make the same wages Frank paid
her, and her grades would likely slip without having as much time
to study.

But going back there?

Not an option.

She heaved again, her empty stomach
clenching uncomfortably, as tears streamed down her face. Just the
thought of Frank tugging down the bodice of her dress last night
made her want to vomit. And his fat fingers kneading her breast?
His sloppy kisses all over her?

Disgusting.

She didn’t bother replying to his message,
but a new one flashed across her screen.

Plan on coming home with me afterward.

I get so hard thinking about you.

She clutched her stomach, trying to control
the nausea roiling through her again.

No way in hell was she going home with him.
He’d practically dragged her down the hall to his office last
night, and she’d been an idiot for agreeing to it. For not
screaming and running the other way. Glancing down at her bicep,
she saw the bruising in the shape of Frank’s fingertips. Jesus
Christ. Gingerly, she touched her upper arm. The angry purple would
eventually fade to a sickly yellow, but in the meantime, she’d need
to cover it up if she was wearing short sleeves. There’d be too
many questions to answer otherwise.

Anger coursed through her at him touching
her. At the way he’d grabbed her, nearly forcing her down the hall.
At how he’d tugged down her top, giving her little choice in the
matter. She felt shame replace her anger as she recalled him
hungrily kissing her bare breast.

Why hadn’t she pushed him away?

Why hadn’t she tried to stop him?

The answer was frightening.

She’d been too scared to move.

After Frank had cornered her in his office,
she’d reluctantly finished her shift, feeling like she had little
choice since she needed the cash. Frank had leered at her the
entire time, making her uncomfortable, though. She’d always thought
he had a thing for Brianna when she worked there, but he’d never
touched her. Never dragged her down the hall. He probably knew she
wouldn’t put up with his shit.

So did that make Ella weak in comparison? Or
just desperate and all out of options?

Frank had trapped her once at the bar last
night before her shift ended, pinching her ass when no one else was
looking and then lightly swatting her backside as she’d walked
away. She’d nearly dropped her tray of drinks, but he’d laughed and
made a crude remark.

She shuddered.

Pouring herself a glass of cool water, she
took a few sips, hoping to settle her stomach. Maybe she could dig
up some change for coffee later. If she could stomach it.

And crap. She’d never even called Brianna
back. Not that she had time at work anyway. She hadn’t dared take
another bathroom break—not with Frank potentially lurking around to
tug her down the hall to his office again. And who knew what he’d
do the next time? She never should’ve consented to let him kiss
her.

Anxiety roiled through her at the idea of
calling Brianna. Her friend had flown her to and from Virginia
Beach, driven her around all week, and all Ella had done was lie to
her. About the whole job situation. About her money situation.
She’d acted like she had some great new job lead, and in reality,
she was just running back to somewhere she hated.

She pushed the speed dial on her cell phone,
collapsing onto the sofa in her living room.

“Ella! I’ve been trying to call you,”
Brianna gushed. “Why didn’t you call me back last night?”

“I’m sorry. Things haven’t been so great. I,
uh, ended up picking up my old shift.”

“Yeah, I heard. I couldn’t believe it when
Whitney told me. Are you okay? Why would you go back there?”

“I’m fine,” Ella said, hating how the lie
sounded to her own ears.

“You sound like you’ve been crying.
Seriously, why would you go back to work there anyway?”

Ella blew out a sigh. She knew the other
waitress was just looking out for her, but Jesus. She wasn’t a kid.
“Look, I didn’t want to say anything last week, but some of my
financial aid fell through for next semester. I really need the
extra cash right now. I was planning to look for something else,
but Frank offered me my old shift back. I needed the money, and
I’ll be done with school in a year.”

“I thought you were rushing home to look for
a new job, not running back to Frank. I was serious the other day
about loaning you some money. You shouldn’t be working there.”

“I know you were, and I appreciate it. But I
need to figure this out on my own. You of anyone should understand
that. You didn’t ask your parents or anyone else for money when you
got laid off—you were working there, just like me. Making ends
meet. Surviving.”

“I know, Ella, and I’m not trying to be a
hypocrite, but damn. That was before I was attacked in the back
hallway. I just don’t think it’s safe working there. You need to be
careful.”

“I will. And I’ll try not to go anywhere
alone there,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Brianna asked.
“I can tell something’s bothering you. And sweetie, you’re not
alone. Ever. I’ll help you figure it out.”

God, her friend had always been there for
her. Ella felt terrible for not telling her everything. Telling her
the truth. If anyone would understand what a sleazy manager Frank
was, Brianna would. Plus, Brianna’s new job was in a law firm.
Maybe someone there would know how to deal with sexual harassment.
To let her keep her job but get rid of Frank. But who was she
kidding? She’d just make things worse for herself that way. Whether
she worked for Frank or not, she needed the money.

“I’ll be fine,” Ella said. “I promise to let
you know if I need help.”

“I don’t know, hun. I think it’s a bad idea,
and—wait. Did that have anything to do with those harassing texts
you’ve been getting? I thought you meant some guy you’d dated was
texting you.”

Ella blew out a breath. “No. They were from
Frank.”

“Frank? Holy shit! He’s your manager. He’s
not allowed to sexually harass you.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go try to find
something different today. There’re other restaurants around here.
Maybe I could become a bartender or something. They get paid better
than waitresses, right?”

“Just be careful, Ella.”

“I will. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“I was also calling to give you a head’s up
about something. Someone,” Brianna clarified.

“What? Is everything okay?”

“Matthew was out with the guys last night
when I called him. I might’ve gone a little overboard saying that
we needed to rush down there and find you.”