Escape with the Navy SEAL

by Regan Black

  “You’re mad,” she whispered.

  He kissed her, helpless to do anything else. “Shell-shocked is a better word.” He focused on what made sense. Physical pleasure and needs. He wanted to make love too, but they weren’t actually in a five-star resort. He wouldn’t take that risk out here without protection or the basics, like a bed.

  “This isn’t a living-in-the-moment thing.” Her voice drifted around him, as soft as a fog bank. “I’ve held back my true feelings for you for too long. You deserve to know.”

  “Lottie.” His lips found hers again. “You...” He didn’t want to offend her, but he couldn’t accept this, couldn’t encourage something that was wrong for her. “You’re everything light and joyful. I’m too much of everything you don’t need.”

  “That’s not how I see it. You’re warm and kind under all the skills and distance you need for your career. You’re one of the most balanced people I know,” she said. “Every artist knows light needs the dark to really shine.”

  “You can’t mean it,” he insisted.

  “I do. I’ve traveled, dated, been in relationships. No one else is you.”

  “Luke is practically me,” he joked, hiding behind the humor while he sorted out this pressure building in his chest.

  She didn’t laugh. Her only response was to trail a finger over his lips. She rolled over and snuggled her back to his chest. “You were right. We need to rest.”

  He wrapped himself around her, sheltering her, but he didn’t sleep. That hard emptiness he’d been dealing with since Maria’s betrayal seemed smaller. Letting Lottie in wasn’t soothing. His heart kicked, resisting the risk and danger that came along with the pleasure and comfort he found in her arms.

  What if Lottie suddenly came to her senses one day and walked away? That would destroy him, not to mention the strain it would create for two generations of friendships.

  And what if, as she so deftly avoided mentioning, they died tomorrow?

  Tomorrow he had to get aggressive and proactive. Once they were safely out of here, they could talk rationally about whatever she thought she felt for him. He felt her body relax and while she slept, he kept watch and made plans.

  Hours later, as the first glow of sunlight appeared on the horizon, Mark was up and alert. He dealt with the necessities and then woke Charlotte with some soft kisses. Blinking, she stared up at him, then looked around as if trying to decide which part of the morning was her imagination and which was real.

  “Yes, we’re still stuck.” He handed her a bottle of water and a meal bar. “But I have a plan.”

  She sat up, brushing at the salt that lingered on her arms after last night’s swim. “Did you sleep?”

  “I did more plotting than sleeping,” he admitted. “But I’m ready to go.” She was adorably kissable first thing in the morning, so he indulged himself. Her big blue eyes were full of affection and it humbled him.

  He wasn’t sure if she’d be aloof or distant today since he hadn’t given her loving words in return last night. It wasn’t as if she could just go her own way out here. Not safely. Just before dawn, he realized he should’ve told her he loved her too. But he couldn’t say it now when they were under such ridiculous pressure.

  When he gave her the words, he wanted them both to be sure he meant it.

  She returned from taking care of herself, seemingly enamored with the view of the sun rising over the ocean. As she ate her meal bar, he heard her chuckle. “At the gallery show, all I wanted was a quiet sunrise on the beach,” she explained.

  “Happy to oblige,” he teased.

  “Really?”

  “Hey, we built this hideout,” he said. “I’m not letting Eaton take any credit for the good things.”

  “I can get on board with that.”

  His delight with her reply was muted when a seaplane engine whirred from somewhere nearby. A few minutes later, they saw it fly over their position. He waited, worried that would be Eaton doing an aerial search, but the sound faded and didn’t return. “That must’ve been Zettel’s men with the body.”

  “Evens the numbers, I hope.” She glared at her water bottle. “Will the five-star resort have coffee?”

  “Definitely.” He was missing the hit of caffeine too “They’d lose a star and be disqualified from our fantasy if there’s no coffee.”

  “Something to look forward to,” she said, without much conviction.

  He understood the doubts she must be feeling, but he was confident enough for both of them that today they would turn the tables on Eaton. “Make sure your laces are tied and double-knotted,” he said. “We’re going to be on the move.”

  She brightened, her eyebrows arching. “You have a plan.”

  “We’ll take the boat today.” He’d thought about it in great detail through the night. After hearing the plane leave, he felt even better. With Zettel dead and his men gone, Mark expected Eaton to send out every man he had to scour the island for them. “Barring that, we’ll take the radio.”

  She stared up at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that means going after Eaton directly,” she said.

  “It does,” Mark replied. “It’s high time he realized who he invited to this fight.”

  She rolled to her feet and the smile she gave him was unexpected. Radiant. Caught off guard, he didn’t know quite what to say. Thankfully, she did.

  “Lead the way.”

  He’d never been quite so inclined to kiss a teammate before a mission. The woman had facets and layers he’d never get enough of. That would be a new danger to assess once they got out of here.

  “First stop, the container where they held us,” he said, as they set out. “I want to look for any supplies or weapons we can use against them.”

  Two ground stakes and a knife would be tough going against a renowned sniper who could pick them off from hundreds of yards away. The terrain was the only thing working in their favor. In addition to weapons, Mark wanted to find a workable pair of shoes and some real food.

  He set a brisk pace, pleased that Charlotte kept up. After yesterday, he had a good feel for the pattern of the camera network Eaton had planted. Today, he had no intention of avoiding or disabling all of them.

  Every guard sent to intercept him and Charlotte meant less protection at the locations he planned to attack. Only a few minutes after purposely ignoring a camera, Mark heard someone closing in behind them.

  At his hand signal, Charlotte ducked behind the wide trunk of a live oak tree, leaving him free to handle the threat. He pulled the knife and waited for the man on their tail to charge.

  The fight was over before it began. The grossly unprepared guard came straight at Mark and within seconds Mark slammed him into the ground, knocking the wind out of the man. He stared up at the sky, gasping like a landed fish.

  Using the guard’s Taser, Mark incapacitated him and cuffed him to the nearest tree. This guard’s boots were too small for him, as well. Were his feet really that big? Irritated and hungry, he roused the guard. “Where are we?”

  The man shrugged and Mark shook him hard. “Tell me.”

  “G-Georgia coast.”

  Progress at last. “How many of you are out here?” he demanded.

  The guard shook his head. “Dunno.”

  Mark raised his fist and the guard mumbled a reply, his words nearly unintelligible thanks to the jolt of the Taser. “How many?” Mark repeated. “I know about Eaton, the big guy and his skinny friend.” He ticked off the opposition on his fingers. “How many more?”

  “Th-thr-three,” the man managed at last.

  “Counting you?”

  The man nodded.

  Satisfied, Mark used the man’s sock as a gag and then flung his boots into the brush.

  “Us against six?” Charlotte asked, emerging from her hiding place.

  Mark nod
ded. “Five now.” And he wanted to save Muscle for last. Not because he was afraid of the fight. No, he wanted to take his time with that nasty brute.

  They made it to what passed for a headquarters without further trouble. As he’d expected, Eaton had abandoned the office and cage room, leaving the doors unlocked. Sensing a trap, Mark didn’t go inside. He didn’t care about the bulletin board. If Eaton and his laptop or radio were here, the man would be gloating and throwing out challenges by now.

  Someone had tried to disguise a path leading from the container where they’d been held into the trees, but they found it. Cautiously, they followed the trail to an established campsite. Two hammocks were still strung up between trees. A box of trash, a cooler and a small locker were all that was left. No weapons, food or boots.

  Charlotte turned in a circle. “You think they’re coming back or did they leave in a hurry?”

  “Probably left in a hurry,” he said. “No reason to stay out here during the storm when they had the boat.”

  “There’s a soda here,” Charlotte said, rooting through the cooler. “Do you want to share some caffeine?”

  “Yes, please.” He didn’t care that it was lukewarm, the carbonation felt great on his sore throat. The only items in the locker were a black T-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He shoved his weary feet into the sandals and decided some protection was better than none.

  The hair on the back of his neck lifted and although he couldn’t spot the threat immediately, he obeyed his instincts. “Let’s get to the dock.” They were too exposed out here in the clearing.

  Mark hiked along, Charlotte just behind him, his flip-flops slapping against his feet.

  “Why aren’t you worried about the noise today?”

  “Because every one of us on the island knows the score,” he replied. “Eaton has the matchup he wants, a SEAL with a code of honor and a family friend to protect. He wants to goad me into becoming a killer and catch me in action on one of these cameras.”

  “But you’re not doing that.”

  “You and I know that, but he won’t stop trying.” The only man he wanted to kill was Eaton, to ensure Charlotte and his family could be safe from now on. That didn’t mean he’d do it on camera. Or kill him at all. He did work from a code and had no plans to take lethal action unless it became a matter of survival. “I’d rather see Eaton prosecuted and jailed for the rest of his life.”

  He veered away from the established paths, staying within the shelter of the trees as they neared the dock.

  Charlotte grabbed his arm. “Where’s the boat?”

  “I’m guessing it’s anchored out of sight. Makes sense to send it away so we can’t steal it.”

  “You aren’t worried he expected us to come here?”

  “No,” Mark replied. “I’m disappointed, but it’s simple logic.” Surely by now Hank or his dad had enough information to narrow down a search area. The investigators would pore over every pixel from every image available. “We just have to hang on until the rescue party arrives.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Charlotte’s grip eased and she rubbed his arm. People were looking for them. He had to keep believing it, keep reminding her to believe, despite the lack of evidence.

  Charlotte tensed as the guard patrolling the empty dock turned toward them, his gaze skimming over their position in a standard watch cycle. He was another one of the new guys. He had a pistol in a holster on one hip and a radio on the other.

  Eaton wanted clear communication today. Good.

  That left one new face still unaccounted for, likely someone watching the camera feeds and reporting their movements to Eaton. Didn’t matter. Nothing short of a nuclear strike would derail his plans to get Charlotte safely off this island.

  No boat posed a problem. What did he need to do to bring that boat back into the dock?

  “Mark?”

  “I’m thinking.” No boat meant no easy access to a long-range radio. It was time to get aggressive. Hard to believe Eaton was fool enough to strand himself out here with a highly trained navy weapon.

  “Eaton isn’t the type to work without an exit strategy,” he said. “There must be another boat or a specific rendezvous time.” He watched the guard continue pacing his watch.

  Mark wanted that radio. Was it a trap? “We’re off the Georgia coast,” he said, thinking out loud. “We have one boat and one new guy unaccounted for. Eaton and the two guards we know are still around somewhere.” He shook his head. “We need to find an advantage.”

  “You’re the real advantage,” Charlotte said.

  He took his eyes off the guard long enough to admire the soft curve of her cheek. Despite the stress, the tangled hair and smudges of ocean salt and island grime, her beauty struck him. Her consistent demonstrations of resilience and grit were even more attractive.

  She caught him staring, arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  The answer was a list way too long to enumerate here and now. “We are the advantage,” he said. “Us, together. They underestimate you. We also have surprise, will and sneakiness on our side.”

  She held his gaze, one eyebrow arched as if she was waiting for the punch line.

  There wasn’t one. Together they could do this. “They don’t expect us to split up,” Mark said, jerking his mind back to the issue at hand. “I want you to stay right here and watch the dock. I’m going to draw the guard away.”

  “And reduce the odds.”

  “Exactly.” He caught her chin lightly and kissed her. Creeping away, he moved with the breeze until he was ready to be seen.

  He looked back, pleased that he had to work to spy Charlotte, though he knew where she was hiding. She’d adapted quickly to the survival game and he hated that he hadn’t been able to spare her this craziness.

  Despite it all, she kept her fight and inner glow. That was her real strength. She’d given him so much through this ordeal. Her engaging conversations had carried him through the worst of some painful beatings. Kissing her was a new adventure in desire every time their lips touched. And last night, her words had undone him. He’d been so tempted to make love to her, even without any protection, just to show her everything he didn’t dare say out loud.

  She’d made being kidnapped by a madman almost a good thing.

  When they got out of this, he expected her to come to her senses. Knowing that, he kept the mushy, needy words locked down tight. His career would definitely kill the sweet family-filled future his heart wanted to promise her.

  Charlotte deserved better. A man who would be there for her, put down roots and build a life without darting away to carry out lethal actions around the globe. He still had a few years of tactical operations and combat missions ahead of him. He’d seen worry and doubt ruin marriages, not to mention the mess he’d made with Maria. He’d watched men give up choice assignments and take administrative paths to please their wives. He didn’t want to be the source of her worry and he didn’t want to push paper, so where did that leave them?

  First things first, he thought, as the guard turned his way again.

  Mark stumbled forward and let out a cry as if he was in pain. The poor sap fell for it, rushing up the dock, gun aimed at Mark’s chest, shouting into his radio.

  Mark raised his hands, swallowed his pride and begged the guard not to shoot.

  “Stop moving.” The guard kept his gun level with Mark’s chest. “The boss wants you alive. On your knees. Keep your hands up.” The barrel of the weapon remained trained on the same spot, center mass, as Mark complied.

  “Do you have any water?” Mark had noticed the top of a water bottle poking up from one of the pockets on the leg of the man’s cargo pants.

  “Not for you.”

  “Please,” Mark begged, adding a dry hacking cough for good measure. “Please. I’m so thirsty.”

  The man stare
d a moment and then handed over the bottle. It hadn’t even been opened yet. He didn’t know it, but that small kindness just saved his life.

  Mark sipped greedily, watching the guard search the surrounding area. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “John Doe,” the guard replied.

  “Right.” Did Eaton give his hired muscle a training manual? “I’ll call you J.D.,” Mark said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it if you help me get out of here.”

  J.D. sneered. “I’ve been paid, thanks. And there’s a bonus waiting when we’re done. Get up.”

  Mark made a production out of standing up, judging how to make a clean grab for the radio. “Come on, I don’t even know why I’m here. Your boss is playing a really sick game.”

  “Shut up, Riley.”

  Being addressed by his name caught him off guard. J.D. jabbed him in the chest with the barrel of his gun and Mark stumbled back. “Turn around and let’s move.”

  “Can’t we sit out here?” Mark asked.

  “Not your call, is it?” This time the gun caught him in the shoulder, twisting his torso and jabbing a particularly sore spot. “Move.”

  “You know who I am, so you know the navy will want me back. Name your price, J.D. Be rich by this time next week.”

  The guard snorted, but Mark could tell he was thinking it over. “Man, anything you want, I’ll give you. Just get me out of here alive.”

  The guard jerked his head back toward the dock. “Are you blind? The boat’s gone. We’re all stuck on this glorified sandbar until further notice. Now, where’d you stash your pretty friend?” J.D.’s gaze searched the immediate vicinity for Charlotte.

  “We got separated,” Mark lied. “She’s probably dead by now.”

  “Nah. They told me you were some kind of hero.” J.D. circled his finger in Mark’s face. “I think she’s close. Call her out and I’ll let you both go. Give you a good head start before the boss uses you for target practice.”