I wish I could tell her that starting a relationship with me right now would be like signing up for human target practice.
Does she want to start something official or end what’s going on?
I’m pissed I can’t talk to her now and get clarification.
There’s a reason Navy SEALs are usually single. All the information concerning our missions is classified, and secrets don’t do well in serious relationships. I’ve been under investigation by the FBI for Reid’s death even though I know exactly who did it. The Russian Mafia boss, Tycos, hasn’t stopped watching me, waiting for me to screw up. When I told Kate about Reid, he must’ve decided I was getting too chatty.
Garrison has been laying low ever since he pulled the trigger on my best friend, but I’ve had enough of living life in the shadows. I want my sister’s husband to pay for what he did. I want Fallon to be safe. Once that’s settled, I can live my life without the black cloud of Steelhart hanging over me.
And then there’s Kate...sweet, innocent, beautiful Kate. A smile involuntarily tugs at my lips as a montage of our short time together plays in my mind. Her drawing cartoons with Tommy is my favorite memory so far, but there are so many to choosefrom. The picture of her wearing that crimson lace in my office isn’t one I can easily dismiss.
After what she’s been through on my account, she’s stronger than I would’ve ever guessed. She’s nearly been killed twice because of me and my failure to protect her, and now, she wants to talk about “this”? Surely, it’s to say she’s done with me.
What other direction could this possibly lead?
She’d be better off without me.
I’m guiding my small jet down on a private airstrip outside of Beverly Hills, California. I force my attention to the task at hand despite the churning in my gut.
Kate deserves a man who can keep her safe, not one who brings endless harm to her. Even now, I’m texting her and Jackson constantly to check in.
Being away from her feels unnatural. The cameras recently installed in my penthouse can be accessed from my smartphone, and I’ve shamelessly been watching her wander around the house all day with her friend.
They’re both asleep now in her bed in the guest room. I crave to hold her close while she dreams, but the fact that she’s safe for the moment is enough to get me through until I can see her again.
Will you be strong enough to break it off then?
I have to stop thinking about her. If I don’t focus on landing this plane, there won’t be much of me left to see Kate at all. I finally touch the wheels down safely.
After I exit the aircraft and turn my phone on, I place a call to the man I’m here to see.
He picks up after a few rings.
“Bradshaw, haven’t seen you since the wedding. Your face still purple?”
“I’m as pretty as ever.”
He chuckles as I dip into the waiting limousine. I hate the way rich California pricks insist on driving around.
This shit had better be bulletproof.
“I’m here. Let’s get drinks somewhere loud.”
“Shit, you’re in Cali? Yeah, let’s go out. I have a club promotion to go to tonight actually.”
“Of course you do.”
He laughs again, rattling off the details and telling me my name will be on the list. It’s already getting late, so I direct the driver straight there. I’m not here to waste time.
Henrik Cavalry is America’s playboy. He was my brother in arms as a Navy SEAL, but after the mission ended, he went into acting and modeling, skyrocketing into fame in a very short time. In the last two years, his ex-military status and roguish good looks have done nothing but promote his status with females all over the world.
Honestly, it terrifies me. Give me an AK-47 and a band of rebels to shoot down, and I’ll barely break a sweat. When it comes to women, there’s really only one who can drive me wild. I don’t need all the attention from the pack that worships Henrik.
He revels in it. He’s currently the cover boy for a breakout fitness brand and starring as a guest actor in a hit TV show. I’m sure he’ll be on the big screen in no time.
The driver eventually pulls up to the club, an eternal line extending out the front. Scantily clad young women with enormous breasts are clamoring to get in. This must be the place to congregate on the West Coast.
I give my name to the bouncer stationed out front, thankful I thought to wear a crimson button-down shirt and dress pants. A few of the girls in line are screaming at me with very generous offers, but I ignore them and continue up the steps.
