Page 72 of Beast

Vic shook his head, disgusted with us both. Kyle and I partied with the best of them, but poor Vic still hadn’t learned his lesson after his ex-wife had cheated on him. He harbored some fucked-up fantasy that he’d find a girl to be faithful to him when he was away; some delusion that he might be able to have a marriage, which defied the Navy SEALs infamous eighty percent divorce rate. Optimistic bastard.

“Whatever you say, man.” Vic laughed. “I know you. You’ve been obsessed with her since you met her. She’s all you’ve talked about for the past two weeks. Once you save her, she’ll worship you. You two will end up getting married. Mark my words. And she’s from San Diego—how convenient. Plus, you said yourself, she gave great head. Sounds like a match made in Hell Week if you ask me.”

“Fuck you, Vic. I’m not saving her because I love her. I don’t even know her. I’m saving her because it’s the right thing to do.” But Vic’s words resonated with me. Annie was all I thought about. Though I hadn’t had more than a cheap sexual encounter and an awkward conversation with her, over the past weeks I’d learned everything I could about her. I’d watched childhood videos of her and her family from their website, seen interviews of her parents crying and begging for her safe return. She’d wanted to be a teacher and had volunteered with a dog rescue. And, though at first I saw her as just another woman who could satisfy me, now I couldn’t wait to see her again. Even if it would be to watch her walk away in the end.

I could never make any woman happy. Especially not one who had been through so much and seen men at their worst. I doubted Annie would ever be able to trust a man again.

I loved women. All women. My mom taught me never to disrespect a woman. I’d given my heart to one once—I’d been faithful to her, encouraged her dreams, and supported her. Once, when I’d been deployed for six months, I arranged to have flowers delivered weekly to her house, with notes I’d written ahead of time and had given to the florist. And my ex gutted me. All the times I was stuck in some hole in Afghanistan, dreaming about her, she was screwing around on me. I didn’t need that complication; my job was stressful enough. I needed my home life to be peaceful, because my line of work was anything but. The only men in the Teams who had successful marriages were married to women who were completely strong, honest, and loyal. Faithful women, who were both mothers and fathers to their children when their husbands were away. If I ever found a woman like that, I’d marry her in a heartbeat. It was impossible to build that type of relationship when I was never home. Since I’d turned eighteen, I’d spent most of the past seven years deployed or out training. In all that time, with the exception of BUD/S, I’d spent a grand total of eight months in San Diego, broken into two or three-week intervals. So I chose to be single until I retired, yet I was still a man and had my needs. It didn’t help that I was plagued by the memory of Annie’s mouth on my cock and her hands gripping my thighs as I came.

I knew despite my best efforts, I’d worry about what would happen to Annie after I dropped her off at the embassy. I hoped she could heal and recover. But it wasn’t my problem. She wasn’t my problem. I would do my job and get her back to safety and then I had to get the fuck out of there. I’d seen what the media did to rediscovered treasures—they stalked them like celebrities. I could never be part of that media circus, not with my job, my life.

I’d fulfill my duty to her and keep my promise. But after that, she was on her own. There was no other way. She had a family and a boyfriend waiting for her anyway. I could never fit into her life and she could never be a part of mine. She’d have to forget she ever met me, just like I hoped she would forget all the torture she endured. And I could go back to living my life the way I liked to.

Alone.

9

Star

THE DOOR OPENED TO MY dimly lit cell. Had Patrick returned?

“Get up, princessa.”

Jose stormed in.

Fuck.

“Get dressed, we’re leaving.”

My palms became moist and it wasn’t because I was coming down. Had he somehow heard me tell Patrick my name? Years of building trust all thrown away in a careless moment.

“Why? Where are we going?”

Jose smirked, I recognized that look.

He was trading me.

Like Eva last month. One day, he came in the middle of the night and took her. And we never saw her again.

“Just put on your nice clothes. And your makeup. We leave in ten.”

“But what about my—”

“No more questions. It is taken care of.”

No. I couldn’t leave! Patrick could still come back for me. He was my only hope. The only way I could foresee reclaiming my life.

“Please, Jose.” I batted my eyelashes. I would do what I had to. Sliding my hand up his thigh, I leaned into him.

He pushed my hand away. “Get ready.”

I bit my lip. I never left the brothel. The pain of facing the outside world, seeing people who were enjoying their lives, even just a glimpse of my past, was more than I could handle.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you.”

But how could he? For the past five years, I’d been invisible. I was sure my father had hired private investigators to look for me. And what about the FBI? How could this SEAL locate me on his own if no one had been able to before?

My dress, a skin tight, tacky fuchsia number, the type of outfit I would’ve made fun of back at home, was now the highlight of my wardrobe. Black, plastic heels completed my ensemble. One pump of body spray and I was ready to go.