Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1)

by N. A. Alcorn

  While Eric Church continues to bellow out the lyrics to the one song that encompasses Black Mamba, Nix smiles at his fellow SEALs—his brothers, the men he would risk everything for.

  And this song, The Outsiders, is a song every member of Black Mamba is required to know. It’s their song. The song. The one and only song that gets them ready for missions. The song they chant lyrics from when they’re standing in a transport aircraft getting ready to MFF—military free fall or sarcastically nicknamed mother fucking fall by the men of Black Mamba.

  This song incorporates everything that is the men of Black Mamba.

  Our backs to the wall, a band of brothers.

  Together, alone, the outsiders.

  Once the encore comes to a close, Nix grips Sloan’s hand and keeps her close by his side as they file out of the venue. As the crowd slowly makes its way towards the exits, she finds herself glancing around, taking inventory of everything around her.

  And that’s when it hits her; she hasn’t once acted like her usual CIA self. Not once did she scope out her surroundings with rapt responsiveness, paying attention to every single detail. Not once did she think about the fact that she’s completely unarmed in a public place, surrounded by complete strangers. Not once did any of that cross her mind.

  And there’s no refuting the fact that Sloan actually felt like a normal human being tonight. She felt free. She felt alive. And more importantly, she felt happy.

  Her hand tightly grips Nix’s as they walk through the parking lot, drawing his attention to her.

  “Everything okay?” he asks with slight concern marring his masculine jaw.

  “Everything is perfect.” She nudges his shoulder with hers. As he helps her into the passenger’s seat she whispers, “Thank you,” in his direction.

  His eyes take inventory of her face, silently gauging her state of mind.

  She merely smiles and places a gentle kiss to the corner of his unsuspecting mouth.

  Her lips seal the end of the fantastic night on a good note—a perfect note.

  AFTER SENDING OFF HER FINAL revisions to her editor for this week’s column in The Washington Times, Sloan slides her black Nike cross trainers on her feet, tying the laces tight as she mentally prepares herself for a long run. Her mind is in desperate need of de-stressing. To say that her day was hectic would be putting it mildly. After a few scheduled surgeries with Dr. Fresno at University Hospital, she had an impromptu meeting with Chief Dubois to discuss the Guadalajara mission.

  Everything went as expected until Chief began his interrogation. He grilled her on what she has been doing with her free time over the past few days. His demeanor was far too cold as he strived to pull any details relating to the Navy SEAL who has become a fixture in her life.

  She hates that he could make her feel guilty for spending time with someone who means so much to her. Her mind races with the consuming thoughts that maybe she wants more out of life than covert missions and a life under the radar.

  Her mind flits back to the conversation with Chief…

  “I don’t relish the idea that one of my best agents is parading around with a SEAL. You’re getting too close, Fifty-Five. Too fucking close. You know your priorities and he is definitely not one of them.” His stark expression spurred anger to flood her veins as his piercing, gray eyes bored holes into her skull.

  A heavy sigh escaped her lungs as she used every ounce of willpower to rein in her temper. “Chief, with all due respect, I know what my priorities are. I’ve been living those priorities for the last decade and never once have I failed to be anything but the best. I think it’d be in your best interest to lay off my personal life. I’m a big girl. I know how to handle myself.”

  So much for reining in her temper. She hadn’t been able to stop those words on her lips even if they’d had the power to detonate a grenade.

  “Personal life?” He let out a caustic laugh. “You don’t have a personal life. It would do you a whole lot of good to remember that this personal life you speak of went out the fucking window when you signed your life away to the CIA.” The corrosive jab hit her with deafening precision as a knowing smirk crossed his smug mouth. “Consider yourself lucky I’m letting all of this ridiculousness go for the time being because I’ve got too much other bullshit to concern myself with.

  “But you need to remember one very important thing. If this mission gets fucked up because your head isn’t where it should be, you’re going to be in a heap of shit,” he warned with a spiteful tone.

  “Are we finished here?” she asked with an irritated furrow of her brow.

  “Are we clear?” he questioned immediately, his voice harsh and cold.

  “Yeah, we’re clear. No personal life. No nothing. Just do my fucking job and forget about everything else.” Her own words cut her like a knife as they crossed her lips. She could practically feel the blood seeping out of the wounds they’d created.

  “I’ll send another package tomorrow that has the final plans for Guadalajara. Be a good little agent and learn every single word—every little detail that’s on that thumb drive.” His right hand motioned for her to leave the discreet SUV in a flitting, almost belittling way.

  Good little agent? That scathing remark had her seething with anger. “Got it. And, Chief?” she asked as she opened the door, sliding her feet to the pavement.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do yourself a favor and stop being such an asshole. Just because you’re my superior doesn’t mean I’ll let you demean me. It would do you a whole lot of good to remember just how much you also have on the line when it comes to this mission. If I fail, you fail.” And with that, she slammed the door of the SUV with a hard bang.

  After replaying that conversation in her head, only two questions stand out in her mind: Why does Chief Dubois have to be such a cocksucker? And is it really too much to ask to find a little bit of happiness?

  Being with Nix—finding opportunities to be carefree and actually live in the moment with him—has made her realize how bleak her life has been up until this point. It’s like she has been wearing blinders for the past ten years, blocking out any possibility of sunlight, and the moment he stepped back into her life, her entire world came into view. He’s removed the shield from her eyes, and now, her life is magnified in high definition.

  Now that life appears vibrant and awe inspiring, how can she ever go back to the way things used to be?

  Ugh, I don’t feel like thinking about all of this anymore. I need to de-stress. ASAFP.

  Sloan strides out of her apartment door, more than ready to hit the pavement and let the tension of the day roll off her shoulders. Her long legs ease into a comfortable stride as she heads out onto the main road, the oranges and reds of the California sunset highlighting her route.

  Her brain is acutely aware of her surroundings as she subconsciously takes inventory of every breath and every heartbeat. Three miles into her run, she picks up the pace and exerts more effort into increasing her stamina. The stress, the worry, and the internal dilemma that have been eating away at her begin to slowly release from her body. Her chest feels lighter; her breaths come in more easily, her heart not aching nearly as badly.

  Sloan’s mind goes into autopilot as her body savors the little things that surround her. The cool breeze that blows in from the Pacific. The intoxicating smell of salt water that invades her senses. And the sweet, innocent sound of children playing a game of T-ball at the small ballpark in the distance. Those little things—the small and oftentimes overlooked joys of life—are what fuel her further.

  Five miles into her run, her mind is lost in delicious memories of waking up to Nix this morning. A cheesy smile fills her face and she doesn’t care how ridiculous she probably looks. If walking around with a silly grin cresting her lips twenty-four hours a day is the only punishment she has to endure to be with him, she’ll gladly look like an idiot.

  Her iPhone vibrates against her hip.

  Nix: We just got fi
nished. Head down to Coronado Beach. We’re grilling out and drinking beer.

  Felicia: Who’s grilling out and drinking beer?

  Nix: The guys. Friends and family. Sort of an impromptu farewell dinner before we ship out for training in Virginia Beach.

  Her steps falter when she sees the words ‘friends and family.’ Her mind—always calculating, always strategizing—weighs out the risks and benefits of meeting more people who are close to Nix. She can’t help but wonder if this is the best idea. Of course, she wants to. Why wouldn’t I want to? But is it the best idea to thrust herself into another situation where she has to meet some of his closest friends under the guise of Felicia Santora? And what if his family is there?

  There is absolutely no way she could come face to face with his mother and father. They would know. They would absolutely know who she is. Before she can start typing out a text saying that she can’t make it, another text message comes in.

  Nix: Don’t worry, sweetheart. My family isn’t here. Just get your glorious ass down here and hang out with me.

  She’s now stopped on the sidewalk, her teeth worrying into her bottom lip as she contemplates the right decision. The entire scenario is one giant mental clusterfuck. Why does it have to be so goddamn difficult? Why can’t I just be normal for once?

  Nix: Don’t make me go caveman on you. I have no qualms with tracking you down, throwing you over my shoulder, and carrying you down here.

  That last text message is her undoing. How could she say no to that? And more importantly, how does he always seem to know what she’s thinking?

  Sigh. Nix seems to be the only man in the entire world who knows everything about her. She hasn’t even really told him about her real job, but it’s like he just knows not to ask questions. He knows her well enough to live in the moment with her and not question every little detail of her secretive life. And that means more to her than he could ever truly realize. It means everything.

  Felicia: Calm down, Caveman. I’ll finish my run, take a quick shower, and head your way shortly. See you in few.

  Nix: Stop texting me and pick up the pace, sweetheart. I’ve been missing you since the second you left my apartment this morning.

  Add more swoon-worthy points to his ongoing tally of quite possibly being the world’s sweetest guy ever.

  Felicia: I’m pretty sure YOU are the one who keeps texting ME. And my pace is already too fast for you, old man.

  Nix: Old man? I’m pretty sure we’re the same age…

  Felicia: I recall you being older than me by two months…

  Nix: Stop busting my balls and get your sexy ass here. NOW. And that’s an order!

  Felicia: Yes, sir.

  Nix: Fuck, you’re making me hard.

  Felicia: STOP. TEXTING. ME.

  Nix: You love it.

  Felicia: I love everything you do, even when you’re annoying the hell out of me.

  Nix: I love you too, Meli. Be safe, baby.

  With another cheesy grin making reappearance on her heart-shaped face, Sloan slides the iPhone back into her pocket and finishes the rest of her run in record time.

  After a quick shower, Sloan throws on a pair of her cutest khaki shorts, coordinating the look with a white tank top and flip-flops. With her brunette locks hanging long and wavy down her back, she heads towards Coronado Beach. She does her best to squelch the second thoughts that creep into her brain as she makes the ten-minute walk from her apartment. She refuses to let doubt and Chief Dubois’s terrible words of wisdom control her decisions.

  For once, she chooses to live her life the way she wants to live it.

  She knows her cover, she knows what’s at risk, and there is no way in hell she will put herself in a scenario where she could jeopardize that. If she were spending time with anyone but Nix, there’s no way she would be heading straight in his direction as her feet work their way through the sand.

  Nixon West is the exception—her exception.

  He knows her, and although she’s never spoken the full truth to him, it’s apparent in every action, in every word, in every little thing he does that he understands what’s on the line. He can read her nonverbal cues better than anyone else. He just knows. He knows what’s at risk without having to be told. Hell, he’s a goddamn Navy SEAL. There’s no way in he’d put her in any type of situation that would risk her cover being blown.

  She knows where the group is before she even spots them, the loud voices and hearty laughs that fill her ears guiding her way. With her sandals in hand, she continues to make her way towards the boisterous group surrounding the large bonfire on the beach. The oranges and reds of the California sunset are no longer highlighting the sky. The only remaining light emanates from the fire burning front and center and the crescent moon glowing in the dark night sky.

  Her eyes seek him out in the crowd while her ever-present inquisitive gaze takes inventory of the people gathered together. It only takes a second for her to spot him. His masculine form and his carefree demeanor take her focus hostage. He’s the only man who’s ever held that power over her—the ability to always draw her attention, the undeniable talent to always be the center of her universe.

  Nix stands confidently with a beer in his hand, smiling at the conversation taking place with Julian and Slade. Two women stand beside them, dressed scantily clad and visibly vying for attention. Julian slides his arm around a curvy blonde’s shoulders, smiling down at her with appreciative eyes. A petite redhead clad in cut-off jean shorts and a midriff-baring top sidles up next to Nix, batting her eyelashes and giggling at something he just said. Her small hand snakes its way to his well-defined chest.

  Cue jealously. Sloan’s blood begins to boil underneath her skin—every single nerve ending prickling in irritation. The mere idea that another woman has her slutty hands on Nix is enough to make her see red. She’s pissed—more than pissed, actually. Sloan is downright fuming at the sight. Her fiery temper quickens her pace and causes her gaze to morph into a caustic glare.

  Nix shrugs off the redhead’s hand, putting distance between them. He’s all too familiar with this type of chick. Her primary focus is to sink her hooks into a SEAL and get every ounce of notoriety her greedy claws can grasp. These types of women come with the territory, and Nix, along with every member of the Teams, can spot them a mile away. Their outlandish whorish behavior is pretty damn easy to pinpoint.

  He learned within three months of being on the Teams that these are the exact type of women to stay the fuck away from. It’s just unfortunate that some of his SEAL buddies don’t share that mindset. It would do guys like Julian and Slade a lot of good to learn that a wining and dining a beautiful, intelligent woman who prides herself on class is a hell of a lot better than endeavoring in a quick fuck with classless, tag-chasing women.

  Nix’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as the redhead begins to take a step towards him, her fake eyelashes fluttering in a come-hither manner. His eyes look out into the crowd and spots a very pissed-off and hot-as-hell Sloan heading in his direction, her long legs eating up the sand in pure determination as her fiery temper shines brightly from her sexy, brown eyes.

  Uh oh. This could be trouble, he immediately thinks to himself. Sloan’s infamous red-hot temper is on full display, and Nix can’t stop the knowing smirk that crosses his smooth lips. He can only imagine the dose of sass she’s about to deliver.

  “There’s my girl,” he announces in her direction.

  “Hi, baby,” she responds with a devious smile as she sidles herself up to him. Her lips find their way to the corner of his mouth as she greets him with affection. Her piercing glower meets the curious stares of the small group that surrounds them. “Everyone sure looks cozy over here,” Sloan spits with enough venom to make a rattlesnake look like a complete pussy.

  Nix swallows the chuckle that sneaks its way up his throat, knowing full well that now is not the time to reveal his current amusement. “I missed you, Meli,” he whispers warmly in
to her ear. His fingers slide a piece of her silky, brunette hair behind her shoulder.

  “It looks like you were kept well entertained during my absence,” she retorts with a sarcastic tone, her russet eyes now looking up into his fond cerulean gaze.

  “Nah, sweetheart. There’s no way in hell these goat fucks could manage to keep me as entertained as you do.” He nods his head in Julian and Slade’s direction, refusing to even acknowledge the women who stand around them.

  “Hey, guys. Long time no see,” she greets Julian and Slade.

  “Hey, Felicia. Glad you could make it. I was getting tired of Nix watching the pier like a creeper,” Slade offers with a hint of a smile.

  “Hey now, West! I thought my dirty joke about the hooker and horny priest at least made you grace us with that girlish giggle of yours. Don’t hurt my fragile ego, Boss. You know how sensitive I can be,” Julian teases. “But seriously, maybe this asshole”—he nods in Nix’s direction—“will be in a better mood now that you’re here.” “And what a beautiful sight you are, Felicia,” Julian adds before pulling Sloan from Nix’s grip and wrapping her up in a bear hug. “God, you’re tiny, woman!” he shouts as he spins her around.

  “Dear god. Put me down, you idiot,” she mutters under her breath.

  “I heard that! Now I’m never letting go!” Julian exclaims as he grips her tighter, his strong arms practically suffocating the life out of her.

  “All right! All right! I give up! Put me down!” she wheezes out through her giggles.

  After a few more squeezes and exasperated shouts from Sloan, he finally puts her down. His cocky smirk is all too revealing of the amusement he got out of hearing her beg.

  “Don’t fucking say it, bro.” Nix eyes Julian with hard stare. “I know exactly where your perverted mind is at, and if you say one word, I swear on my mother’s life that I will make you regret it,” he adds as he slides his arm around Sloan, pulling her tight into his side.