Second Chance SEAL: A Bad Boy Military Romance (52 page)

I
moved silently
through the neighborhood, scouting out the quiet houses.

I hadn’t been able to get to sleep. I had tried, but I’d just kept hearing Mason crying upstairs. I could tune out loud, difficult noises, since I was trained to sleep under any condition, but there was something about him being in pain that kept me awake.

Tara didn’t seem interested in talking, which was fine with me. She’d gotten what she’d wanted, even though it wasn’t completely necessary. I couldn’t blame her, since it was my choice to go to the hospital in the end.

Still, I wished she could have been at least a little more grateful, or at least a little less pissed off. She didn’t seem to get how much danger we were in every time we so much as walked outside the safe house.

I had no clue if we had been spotted or not. There was just no real way for me to know. I moved silently through the neighborhood, sticking to the shadows, but I found nothing.

I was like a shadow in the night, deadly and swift. This was my element, my way of life. I was the stalker and the world was my prey. Nobody could stand before me and survive long if I wanted to destroy them. In the night, I was in control.

I moved across the street and crouched down in the shadows. A minute later, another shadow peeled itself from a wall and crouched down next to me.

“Captain,” Travis said.

“How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Quiet.”

“Sorry about earlier. The hospital thing.”

I could sense Travis’s discomfort. “I understand needing to take the kid to the doc, but was that the best decision?”

I glanced at him. He was staring out across the street. “No,” I said, “it wasn’t. I told command that I’m too close to this, but they insisted on keeping me in control of the girl.”

Travis nodded. “Blackfire knows his stuff.”

“He does, but I’m worried he made the wrong call on this one.”

Travis looked at me. “Are you too close?”

I didn’t answer at first. My mind wandered back over the past few days and stopped on the moment when I finally saw Tara again in person.

The excitement I felt, the fire in my veins, the heat. That hadn’t gone away, not one bit. If anything, it had only gotten hotter and stronger the more I got to know her.

Then there was the way I felt about Mason. Holding him, feeding him, I’d never experienced that sort of emotion before. I wanted to take care of him, to protect him above all other things. I’d only ever felt that way about my squad before, but never to that intense a degree.

“Yes,” I said. “I’m too close.”

Travis nodded. “I’ll relay that.”

“Have you seen anything tonight?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“Maybe,” he said. “Can’t be sure. Saw some strange car movement a few hours back, but nothing since.”

“What happened?”

“Two cars, one white and one black, driving around the area. Could have been lost people. Could have been The Network scouting. Can’t be sure.”

“Omar?”

“Haven’t seen or smelled him.”

I nodded. “Got it. Keep an eye out.”

“Roger, captain.”

Travis melted back into the shadows and disappeared.

I held my position for another minute, my mind wandering slowly. Strange cars, threats in the night. I was too close to this, too damn close to this, and yet Blackfire thought it was the right call to keep me involved.

“Fucking hell,” I said as I disengaged myself from the shadows and headed back toward the safe house.

Everything was quiet as I moved down the alley and jumped over the back wall. I landed on my toes without making a sound, crouching down and scouting out the yard.

Everything looked fine. I moved across the backyard and stopped at the back door, reaching into my pocket for the keys.

As I grabbed the handle, the door pushed open. It gave to the slightest pressure.

Instantly I entered battle mode. My heartrate jumped but my breathing slowed, and I felt completely calm. My training took over and I began to asses the situation.

The back door was open. There was no way Tara had opened it, which meant someone had broken in. There was no sign that the door had been forced, and so I could reasonably conclude that whoever was inside was trained to open doors silently, even doors with a bunch of solid locks.

I slipped my knife from the sheath on my thigh and made sure that the silencer was on my pistol. Softly, I pushed open the door.

The kitchen was empty. Like a shadow, I drifted into the space, moving along the counters, stepping silently. I pressed up against the far wall and edged toward the doorway.

I looked into the living room and spotted him. One man stood near the front door, a submachine gun in his hands. I counted at least ten paces from here to there, and so I sheathed my knife and pulled out my gun.

It only took two shots, one to his skull and one to his chest. He toppled to the ground, blood pooling around his motionless body.

I moved into the room fast, staying low. I stopped against the far wall and listened.

Nothing. No movements. No sound.

I kicked the man’s corpse. He was wearing a black ski mask and a combat vest. The vest had absorbed my second shot, but the first was enough to put him down.

It was The Network, no doubt about it. There weren’t any burglars in the whole city that had combat clothing like this guy had, not to mention the weapon, some serious firepower.

I pressed myself up against the stairwell wall and began slowly moving up toward the second floor, my gun held out and ready. I heard something up there, possibly someone trying to turn a doorknob, but I wasn’t positive. I moved a step faster and slowly came up around the corner.

Standing outside Tara’s room was a second man, also wearing a ski mask and dressed in combat armor. As I prepared my shot, he whirled on me, swinging his weapon like a club.

I pulled the trigger, but he caught my hands, knocking my gun away. The bullet bit into the ceiling harmlessly, showering the man in dust. He came at me, swinging his gun around to try and get a shot, but I moved too fast. I twisted right, stepped into the hall, and kicked his wrists, twisting them and sending the gun clattering.

He came at me fast, his fists moving through the air, swinging at my face. He was strong and clearly a good fighter, and I fell back, giving us more room. I ducked a blow and blocked a kick before stepping in and punching his gut once, twice. He stepped back, not phased, as his armor had absorbed the blows. He came down at my skull with his fists, smashing into my neck, sending me stumbling back.

He followed that with more vicious blows, heavy fists swinging at my body. I blocked and fell back farther, trying to put space between us. Eventually I pressed up against a closed door as he came at me, fighting hard.

I ducked and twisted, skirting along the wall. I landed a weak left to his neck, but it was enough to make him stumble back. I shoved past him, putting some space between us, and pulled my knife.

He came at me again, but I had the advantage now. I swiped at him, keeping him back. He growled as he launched himself at me, but I was too fast. I cut him quick on his shoulder and back, shoving him aside. I kneed him in the chest and he came up at me with a grunt, trying to head-butt my nose.

I twisted and drove my knife deep into his neck. He tried to hit me, but his strength was fading fast. He struggled, but I pulled out the knife and cut him again, opening his throat.

He fell to the ground, blood pooling around him.

Instantly I fell into a crouch, looking around, but the house was silent. If there was anybody else in the place, they would definitely have heard.

I took a deep breath, the overwhelming excitement coursing through my veins slowly beginning to fade. During that fight, my life on the line, I’d felt so alive, so powerful and free. My only goal had been to survive and to defeat my opponent, and I thrived on that shit.

I sheathed my blood-covered knife, retrieved my gun, slipped it back into my belt, and knocked on Tara’s door.

Inside, I could hear someone moving. Mason was crying, and I realized he must have been crying this whole time and I hadn’t even noticed in the excitement.

“It’s me,” I said. “It’s Emory.”

Slowly I heard the door unlock and then push open. “Emory?”

“It’s done,” I said. “They’re gone.”

“It was them, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Bastards must have caught us when we were out. I thought we were so careful.”

Her face dropped. “Emory, I’m so sorry.”

I wasn’t thinking. I just took her and pulled her against me, kissing her hard. She didn’t resist or struggle, just kissed me back.

This was what I fucking wanted. Fighting and fucking Tara were the two things I was best at, and I couldn’t want anything else in the world at that moment.

Finally, I pulled away. “It’s not your fault,” I said, “but we have to leave.”

“When?”

“Now,” I said. “Who knows when they’ll send more men. I’m guessing this was just supposed to be a scouting party.”

“Okay. Let me pack.”

I watched her gather her stuff and then moved into my own room to grab my bag. I was already packed and ready to go, since I was trained to always be prepared. I helped Tara finish up and then I called up Travis.

“We’re leaving,” I told him. “Come grab us.”

“Got it,” he said, and hung up.

As we moved downstairs, I didn’t know where we were going to go. There was no safe house to run to, no destination at all. The only thing I knew was that we had to get out of there, and tonight. We couldn’t wait a single second.

Mason was still crying, but softer now, less insistently. That wasn’t ideal, but it wouldn’t matter once we were in the car. My mind moved fast, planning our next steps, trying to figure out the best moves.

I was too close, but I was going to accomplish my goals. I was going to keep them safe, no matter what.

Fuck The Network, those terrorist bastards. They couldn’t have the people I cared about, and they never would.

I
’d never felt more relieved
in my entire life than when I’d heard Emory’s voice.

Before he showed up, I heard the man walk up the steps. He was trying to be quiet, but the steps creaked under his weight. I heard him search around the upstairs, going through Emory’s room, and finally standing outside mine.

He tried the knob once, twice, and then nothing for a moment. I stood there, my heart pounding, and I knew what was happening. I knew it was The Network coming for me, and all I could think about was how I could get Mason out of there.

And then a thump, a grunt, and more loud noises. It sounded like a bear was tearing through the hallway, smashing everything, until I heard a wet gurgle and it was over.

It was easier this time to ignore the dead bodies on the floor as I packed and carried Mason downstairs. It was amazing how quickly I adapted to that reality. Just a couple of days earlier and the sight of those bodies, all that blood, would have sent me into a fear spiral. Instead, I ignored them and kept moving, because I couldn’t stand still.

As I stepped over the man downstairs, I noticed something hanging out of his pocket. Emory wasn’t around and must have missed it, so I bent over and snagged it. I shoved it into my pocket, not bothering to look too closely. I was too focused on getting out of there to worry about what it was.

Emory was silent when we finally got into the car with Travis. We drove, heading toward the edge of town.

“I’m sorry I missed them,” Travis said finally. “I fucked up, captain.”

“Not your fault,” he said. “You’re just one guy trying to keep watch all day and night. The Network has too many resources. You didn’t have a chance.”

“Still, cap, I should have been there.”

“Stop,” Emory said.

“I’m just saying, it was my responsibility.”

“No. Stop the car.”

Travis pulled over and Emory opened the door. It was the middle of the night and nobody was out on the streets. “I need to get a new car,” Emory said.

“Where?” I asked him. “Nothing is open.”

Emory grinned at me. “I’m going to fucking steal one.”

I wanted to protest, but he was already walking away. Travis turned around and grinned at me. “Cap is always like that,” he said. “Does whatever he thinks is right and doesn’t worry too much.”

I smiled back weakly but couldn’t stop watching as Emory walked up to a black truck. He did something with the window and managed to pop the lock open. He disappeared inside the truck, and two minutes later the engine roared to life.

Emory pulled the car alongside Travis and rolled down his windows. “Too easy,” he said.

“Did the Navy train you for that?” I asked him.

“Nah. I just learned that one on my own.” He paused, looking around. “Come on. You’d better get in.”

I climbed out of Travis’s car, gathering up Mason and all his things. Mason’s cries had gotten softer, no longer screams of pain. I got him set up in the back seat, transferred over the rest of my stuff with Travis’s help, and then climbed into the front seat of the truck.

“Ready?” Emory asked.

“Where are we going?”

He started driving. “I have no clue.”

We lapsed into silence as he headed out of the city, driving farther south. We were moving away from Dayton, away from Indianapolis, away from everything I knew.

It had happened so fast again. One second I was comforting Mason and giving him medicine and the next there were men in the house trying to kill me. I was so beyond grateful that Emory had shown up when he did and taken those guys out. Otherwise, I had no clue what would have happened.

“What’s the plan?” I asked finally after a few miles of silence.

“Right now we’re going to put as much distance between us and Indianapolis as possible,” he said. “We’ll stop for the night soon, get some rest, and then figure out what to do in the morning.”

I nodded. “Can we stop sooner than that?” I looked in the back. “Mason is sleeping, I haven’t eaten anything in a few hours, and I need to give Mason his medicine.”

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Nearly five in the morning,” I said.

“Fine,” he said. “There’s a rest stop coming up. We can grab something there.”

“Thanks,” I said.

We drove in silence again, my thoughts ranging over the last few days. Emory had gone from a stranger to the only person I trusted in the world. As far as I knew, he was the only person who understood what was happening to me and could do anything about it.

We turned off the highway a half hour later and drove down a long off ramp toward a rest stop. The place was basically deserted, and Emory parked as far away from the other cars as possible.

He cut the engine and looked at me. “Okay, do your thing,” he said.

I nodded. “Watch Mason?”

“You got it.”

I climbed out of the car and walked quickly toward the building. I pushed open the doors and stepped inside.

The place was empty and most of the stores were closed. The only place that was open was a fast food place, and I just couldn’t’ stomach that kind of food. Instead, I bought some crackers from a vending machine and ate them while leaning up against a wall.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I wanted to feel something, fear or mourning or anything, but I was just numb. After this most recent attack, the only thing I felt was a numb nothingness. And that scared me so much more than anything else had so far.

At least before I’d had the good sense to feel afraid. During the attack I’d felt fear, real terror deep down in my bones, but it had been for Mason. I hadn’t felt any fear for myself at all, and now that it was over I didn’t feel anything else. I was totally blank, a clean slate, empty.

I finished the crackers and went into the bathroom, feeling unsatisfied. It was empty, like everything else in the rest stop.

I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t understand it. I knew I should probably feel afraid now that we were out of the safe house and on the run again, but as I looked at myself in the mirror and splashed water on my face, I couldn’t bring myself to care. We’d drive and drive and the terrorists would get to us again eventually. Either Emory would save us or he wouldn’t. It was all going to end eventually anyway, so I might as well just stop trying to fight it.

A movement to my left caught my eye. I looked over, and standing there, framed in the door, was Emory.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

He took a few steps toward me, the door closing behind him. He kicked a trashcan in front of the door and then looked up at me, his eyes dark and heavy.

“Emory?” I asked again.

He walked up to me and grabbed me by the hips, pulling my body against his.

He didn’t say a word. He just kissed me hard, his lips soft and hard against mine, his mouth hungrily kissing me hard.

I pushed him back. “What are you doing? What about Mason?”

“Travis is with him,” he said, and he grabbed me back, pressing me against his body.

His eyes, his lips, they stared into me. Travis was with Mason. Emory was with me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him again.

“You know why I’m here.”

“We’re in a rest stop bathroom. Someone could come in.”

“Nobody’s coming in, princess,” he said. He began to kiss my neck again, pushing me back up against the wall. I moaned as he unbuttoned my jeans.

“Emory, someone could. We can’t do this. We need to get back on the road.”

“I need to feel this soaking pussy,” he said, slipping his hands down my panties. I gasped as his fingers found my clit, and I realized in that moment how incredibly wet I was.

As he stroked my clit, fingers rolling around my skin, I felt something suddenly wash over me. I had been numb the whole time, but suddenly something rushed into me, took me over, put life back into my limbs.

It was Emory. He was the thing that kept me going. I was walking and fighting for Mason, but Emory was what gave me any strength at all. Without Emory, I’d be dead, and my family would be dead. Everyone I loved and cared about would be gone.

I pressed myself against him, grinding down against his fingers, kissing his lips hard. I needed this, needed it just as much as he did. I needed to feel again, to feel him. Emory gave me strength, and I needed him to give me everything he had.

His fingers worked me, pressing deep inside my wet pussy, stroking in and out, rolling along my clit. Pleasure and desire flooded through me as I rolled my hips, kissing his lips harder, my arms locked around his neck. He pressed his fingers deep inside me and I gasped, kissing him and moaning against his lips.

“Fuck I needed this too,” I gasped as he kissed my neck and tugged my jeans down over my hips. “I really needed this.”

He dropped down to his knees in front of me, his hands on my ass, pulling my hips forward. His lips kissed my stomach and slowly moved down over my panties to lick and suck at my pussy.

“Nothing better than fucking after a fight,” he said. “And there’s no pussy I’d rather fuck than yours.”

He pulled my panties down with a swift tug and then began to suck at my pussy and clit as I stood there, back arched, shoulders against the wall. I held onto his hair as he held onto my ass, supporting most of my weight with his powerful arms.

His mouth was up between my legs, his tongue working my pussy, licking my clit and sliding up inside me. He ate my pussy like a starving man, working my body, driving loads of pleasure through my skin. It pulsed and worked, rolling through my clit, up my soaked pussy, all around my skin.

I fought to stay quiet, but small moans escaped my lips as he kept working me.

“Emory,” I gasped. “Oh my god. You make me want to scream.”

“So scream,” he said between licks. “Go ahead. Nobody’s coming.”

“I can’t,” I gasped.

“You’re embarrassed,” he said, “but I wouldn’t be embarrassed of this tight, delicious little cunt.”

His hands squeezed my ass as he worked my clit, sucking and licking, his tongue rolling in circles, alternating pressure, working me. I could feel my muscles tensing, pleasure rolling through my body, delicious pleasure, intense feelings returning like tingles in a frozen limb.

He suddenly stopped and stood, unbuckling his belt. I watched him, soaking wet, practically dripping onto the ground. He grabbed a condom from his jeans before kicking them aside and sliding his boxer briefs down.

I took his thick, rock-hard cock in my hands and stroked him. I spit down on his cock and used that to slide my palms along him, working his length. I jerked him like that with two hands as he grunted and tore open the condom wrapper, his eyes dark with lust and desire.

He pushed me back roughly against the wall, his hands between my legs, mouth against my ear. “Tell me you want this cock,” he whispered. “Tell me you want me to fill your cunt up until you come again and again.”

“Please,” I whispered. “Emory, fuck me. I need it.”

He rolled the condom down his length and then grabbed my hips and turned me. I gasped as he pressed me forward, my hands up against the wall, my legs spread wide.

“Fuck I love this thick ass,” he said.

I felt him grab my hips and then slap my ass, hard. I gasped but didn’t have time to say a word, as he pressed his cock deep inside me.

I moaned, feeling him fill me to the brim. I couldn’t believe how easily he slid inside me, probably because I was so damn wet. His thick cock filed my every inch, and I loved his grunts of pleasure as he slowly began to fuck me, his cock sliding in and out of me, his hands hard on my hips.

I couldn’t believe I was letting him take me this way, in the middle of a public bathroom. But I couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it, needed it more than I could have said. He began to thrust deep inside me, insistently and needing, rough and hard. His hand slapped down on my ass, sending bolts of painful tingles down my spine, mingling with the pleasure, making cool waves of good along my mind.

He pulled my hair, tipping my head back as he fucked me, his body rocking against mine. His strong chest and arms controlled me so easily, made me do what he wanted, made me take him how he wanted.

“Your pussy is so fucking tight,” he whispered in my ear. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t get you out of my brain.”

I rocked my hips back, moving my ass, rolling around his cock as he fucked me. “Keep going,” I panted. “Keep going.”

My whole mind and body were tense, balanced on the edge. I needed him so badly, needed his thick cock filling me, needed his strength as he took me. I was dripping wet with intensity, pleasure rolling down my spine.

It was his strong arms, gripping my body, pulling me close. He pressed me against him and I moved my hand, putting it on his head, gripping his hair as he fucked me hard and fast. His cock thrust savagely deep inside me, taking me, making me his. He reached around and pushed my legs open wider as he began to rub my clit in circles, working me as he fucked me rough, deep, and hard. I moaned loudly, out of my mind, pleasure rocking through me, no longer caring who could hear me.

And as he fucked me deep, his hand working my clit, I knew I was about to tip over. My whole body tensed as the orgasm exploded through me, my whole body trembling. It was almost too much, too intense. The feeling overwhelmed me as I twitched and trembled, moaning his name over and over, but he didn’t let me go. He fucked me unrelentingly, pushing through the incredible, intense pleasure, pushing me over the edge.

And in the orgasm, I knew what I needed. I needed Emory, his strong arms, the way he controlled and worked me, the way he could so easily tip me over the edge and make me come. But more than that, I needed his protectiveness, his amazing smile, everything about him.

As my orgasm finished, I bent over again, pressing my ass against him. “Come inside me,” I gasped. “Fuck me hard, Emory.”

He grinned and fucked me deeper, harder, his body thrusting against mine. The cool slap of his skin against mine sent chills all over me as he groaned and grunted his pleasure, working me and fucking me hard.