“I got shot,” Max said, and she took a step back, her eyes widening.
“Oh, my God! Where? Are you going to be OK?”
“My boot’s full of blood.” Max waggled his foot. At the moment, he was so happy it didn’t hurt at all. “The wall stopped the rest of the bullets, but one went underneath the stall and hit me in the foot.”
Gabrielle put her hands on her hips. “You’ve been following us for fifty miles with a bullet in your foot?”
“He took you,” Max said. “I had to get you back.”
It seemed to be the right thing to say, because her face softened. But before she could say anything, the sirens that had been following Max for the past twenty minutes finally caught up, as two highway patrol cars screeched to a stop on either side of them.
Up ahead, four Navy SEALs had emerged from the helo and were pointing their guns at the black sedan, while the fifth was jogging toward them. By now, the roadbed was mostly clear between them and the helicopter, and Rusty didn’t have to zig-zag between cars. They kept going by in a steady stream on the right, faces gawping behind closed windows.
“What the hell—?” the first uniformed deputy said, looking from Max and Gabrielle to the helicopter and to Rusty, coming toward them. His hand twitched reflexively toward his gun.
“The guy you want is in the black Caddy,” Max said, as Rusty came to a stop next to him. “He shot me and kidnapped my girlfriend. I’ve been trying to catch up since just outside Richmond.”
The two cops looked at one another. “Shot you?” the other one asked, half skeptical and half worried. “You need an ambulance, mate?”
Max shook his head. “It’s just one bullet. My medic here’ll take care of it.”
Rusty gave the two officers a nod. “Chief Petty Officer David Russell, US Navy. SEAL Team Sixteen. This is my lieutenant.”
The officers exchanged another glance. Then they moved off without another word, toward the sedan with Alex in it. Both of them reached for their guns.
Gabrielle looked from Max to Rusty. “Does that always happen?”
“More often in Virginia Beach and Norfolk,” Rusty said, eyeing Max. “How d’you wanna do this, lieutenant?”
“In Norfolk and Virginia Beach law enforcement mostly leaves us alone,” Max explained. “They know we can mostly handle things on our own. I guess word has spread.”
He turned to Rusty. “I think I’d like to ride back on the helo. If someone else can drive my truck.”
Rusty nodded.
“Unless you still wanna go to Washington,” Max added, to Gabrielle this time. “I’ll take you. Or you can take the truck if you want, and go by yourself. I can get it later. Or you can keep it.”
She might not want to come back to Virginia, after all. Not now that Alex was being taken into custody—the two cops had reached the car, and while the SEALs were still making sure Alex didn’t go anywhere, the transfer of power had taken place, from the Navy to the Virginia Highway Patrol. Commander Baker was on his way from the helo to the sedan, and Max figured the commander would explain the situation. As for him, he’d done what he’d come here to do.
Unless Gabrielle still wanted to go to Washington. Then he could get Rusty to patch him up long enough to get her there. And back, if she wanted to go back.
Although there was no reason why she’d want to go back. She’d had a life in Washington. A place to live. Stuff. Maybe some friends.
While he’d like her to stick around Norfolk, waiting tables at the FUBAR wasn’t likely to be her first choice of career if she didn’t have to be there. And with Alex behind bars, she didn’t.
“I’ll come back with you,” Gabrielle said. “If there’s room in the helicopter. Or I can drive the truck, if there isn’t.”
Max let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “You sure?”
She nodded. “There’s nothing in Washington I want.”
“What about Engelhart?”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Why would I want anything more to do with Trent?”
“I thought maybe you’d wanna say goodbye or something.”
“No,” Gabrielle said, scooting under his shoulder while Rusty supported him on the other side. The foot had been OK, or mostly OK, while he’d been sitting in the truck. Now he was standing on it, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Time to get that bullet out.
He gritted his teeth. “Nothing you want to pick up from your apartment?”
She shook her head. The short strands of hair left on her head brushed the side of his jaw. “I have everything I need.”
“Let’s go,” Rusty said.
Max nodded, and with their support, made his limping way toward the helo.
* * *
”So that’s that,” Max told Gabrielle several hours later.
They were back in Norfolk, and back in Max’s little house in the quiet cul-de-sac. She’d gotten him into bed, or at least onto it, with his foot elevated on a pillow. It was funny, but flat on his back, in pair of workout shorts and a faded T-shirt, with a bandage around his foot and a couple of Tylenol in him—he’d refused anything stronger—he looked no less dangerous than he did standing up, in full warrior mode. Somehow she didn’t doubt that if someone burst through the door at that moment, Max would be on his feet and fighting in a matter of seconds, bandage or no bandage.
Not that that was likely to happen.
“Alex is locked up,” he added. “I doubt he’ll get bail. Too likely he’ll take off somewhere. Like Russia. The DC police is questioning Engelhart. I’m sure he’s trying to squirm out of any wrongdoing…”
“As far as the Russian mob thing,” Gabrielle said, in an attempt to be fair, “he really didn’t do much. It was Alex’s plan to get Trent on the bench in Idaho. Trent didn’t know about it until a week ago.”
Max’s voice was implacable. “And a week ago he could have gone to the police and told them what he knew, and prevented the attacks on Judge Collins and his wife. It’s no thanks to Trent Engelhart that they’re still alive.”
No, it wasn’t. Max was right: Trent should have done that. Instead, he’d gone along with Alex’s plan and hadn’t said anything. Whether it was because he wanted to get ahead, wanted the money and prestige of a federal judgeship, or because he was afraid that his relationship with Gabrielle would come out and destroy his marriage and his career, didn’t really matter. He’d chosen not to do the right thing when faced with the life and death of someone else.
“He’ll probably get off with a warning,” Max said. “It depends on what else he’s done for Alex over the past couple of years, I guess. But if all he did, was learn about the plan to get rid of Judge Collins a few days ago, and didn’t notify the authorities, I doubt he’ll go to jail for it.”
“His reputation will be shot,” Gabrielle said, and watched Max nod.
“No way around that. He’s been chummy with the Russian Brotherhood. He’s implicated in two attempted homicides. He’s been visiting strip clubs.”
“And he’s been sleeping with me while he’s wife’s battling cancer,” Gabrielle said, pointing out the elephant in the room, the one Max wasn’t mentioning.
He made a face. “That, too.”
“They’ll probably come after me, as well. The reporters. The photographers.”
And wasn’t that a horrifying thought? Not being able to go outside without people shouting questions at her and taking her picture. Her face plastered over the front page of newspapers from here to Idaho, and maybe further. People talking about her, and blaming her for wooing Trent away from his wife, and from the straight and narrow.
Her name would be mud. And she had dragged Max into it, too. All he’d done was try to protect her, to help her, and now he’d be on the receiving end of those same insinuations, the questions and photographs.
She hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I did this to you. You’re a Navy SEAL. A hero. And now you’re going to be dragged throu
gh the dirt along with me. All because I was stupid and let Trent talk me into having an affair with him.”
“It’s OK,” Max said.
Gabrielle gave him a fulminating look between her fingers. “It’s not OK. You didn’t do anything wrong. You should not have to pay for me screwing up my life.”
“I don’t mind,” Max said. A corner of his mouth had turned up. “I’m sure you’ll make it worth it.”
“I don’t know that anything would be worth it. They’ll say I slept with Trent because Alex told me to. They’ll call me a whore. And I was. I prostituted myself for Alex. I didn’t know what he was doing, that he was targeting Trent for his own ends, but I went to Trent’s dinner willingly. Nobody had to twist my arm.”
“You didn’t know,” Max said.
She forked her fingers through her hair. It still felt strange after all the years of having long waves, but she was getting used to it. And it seemed a fitting punishment. Didn’t they shave the heads of women who fraternized with the Nazis during World War Two? “I should have known. I spent two years working for the Russian mob, and I didn’t realize it. I spent more than a year sleeping with a married man—a married man whose wife has cancer!—and I didn’t stop until I became afraid for my own life. I’m a horrible person.”
Max reached for her. “You’re not. You’re human, just like the rest of us. I’ve done some things I’m not particularly proud of. Everyone has.”
He pulled her down, and Gabrielle rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart and breathing in the scent of him. “I can’t believe you’re so nice to me.”
“You owe me sexual favors,” Max said, his voice rumbling against her ear. “And you redeemed yourself. When it came down to it, you did the right thing.”
“Too little, too late.”
“It’s not too late.” He lifted her chin and raised his head to give her a soft kiss. “Judge Collins and his wife will both survive. The men who shot them are in custody. Sergei and Yuri are in custody. Alex is in custody. Trent Engelhart… well, even if they let him go, he isn’t likely to do anything like this again. He’ll probably have to stop being a senator, so he won’t be able to do any damage that way. He definitely won’t become a judge. And you and I are fine.”
“You have a bullet in your foot,” Gabrielle pointed out.
“Not anymore. Rusty took it out. And it probably won’t be the last one.”
“You have a dangerous job.” Gabrielle folded her arms across his chest and rested her chin on them.
Max nodded. “It isn’t easy, being involved with a SEAL.”
So he’d told her, a couple of times before. “I’d like to try,” Gabrielle said, “if you’ll have me.” Although with all the baggage she was dragging along behind her, she wouldn’t blame him if he said no.
Max’s lips curved. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Just so I can be prepared, maybe you should give me that tour of those bullet wounds you promised me?”
“Only if it leads to those sexual favors you promised me,” Max said.
Gabrielle squinted at him. “Are you sure you’re up for that?”
He smirked. “I’m always up for that.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Max said, “and if you stay there, and let me stay here, I promise it won’t hurt at all.”
Good to know. She knew he already knew, but she couldn’t keep herself from telling him, one more time. “You know it’s going to get ugly for a while.”
“I can handle ugly,” Max said, pulling her closer. “I’ve seen ugly. This’ll be annoying, but probably not ugly.”
Compared to some of the things she assumed he’d seen, maybe not ugly at all.
“You know,” she told him, going out on a limb, although she suspected the limb might not be that unsafe, “I think I might love you.”
He smiled. “That’s good, cause I think I might love you, too. And now, a little less talk…”
Gabrielle giggled. Max pulled her closer, humming until their lips met on “action,” and then there was nothing more to say.
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USA Today bestselling author Jenna Bennett writes the Savannah Martin romantic mystery series, the Soldiers of Fortune futuristic suspense series, and the Alpha Squad military suspense series, among a lot of other books. As Jennie Bentley, she wrote the New York Times bestselling Do It Yourself home renovation mystery series for Berkley Prime Crime. For more information about Jenna/Jennie and all her works, please visit her website, www.jennabennett.com
THE STRIPPER AND THE SEAL
Alpha Squad Book 2
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Copyright © 2018 Bente Gallagher
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Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
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