SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance

by Juliana Conners

  I think you and I could help each other out.

  Chapter 45 – Chelsea

  When I get out of class the next day, I’m feeling much better. My dad had left me a nice card and roses that morning, instructing me to meet him at the lake house later tonight because we need father- daughter bonding time over my birthday weekend.

  At least with everything else going on in my life, I always have my dad.

  But as I round the corner to head to my car, I see Christian Lewis waiting for me.

  “Chelsea,” he says, with a strange grin on his face.

  “Christian. How you doing?”

  I’m surprised that he wants to talk to me, but I figure why not hear what he has to say. I know it won’t be good but I’m ready to get Wesley out of my system forever.

  Leave it to Christian to come to deliver the final blow to any relationship I thought Wesley and I might have.

  “I know you like to leave notes in your lover boy’s locker,” he says, grinning that awful grin still.

  “So?” I shrug.

  Who cares? Is this the best he’s got?

  “But do you know what else is in his locker?”

  Now I glare at him.

  “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

  “Fine,” I spit back.

  Let’s get this over with.

  As soon as we get to the locker room, Christian triumphantly marches to Wesley’s locker. He slips a key in the lock and then opens up the locker door with gusto, as if he’s a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

  There are clear bags full of drugs. I’m no expert, but it looks like some weed and some pills and some coke or maybe heroin— little baggies full of white powder.

  “I’m sure that Daddy Dearest will be interested in knowing what Wesley has been doing. Both with his daughter and with these drugs.”

  My mouth is still agape, and I’m still horrified. But something doesn’t seem right.

  I think about Wesley’s strong hands on my shoulders, giving me a back massage. And then the openness and vulnerability that he shared with me. Suddenly, even though things don’t make total sense, all I want is to believe in him. To be with him.

  “Why do you care so much about what Wesley’s doing?” I ask Christian.

  His mouth turns into an ugly sneer as he squints at me before he answers.

  “I just like to keep my teammates safe. I care about what happens at this school.”

  “That’s funny,” I tell him. “Because I’ve never known you to care about anyone but yourself.”

  I walk out of the locker room, leaving a flabbergasted Christian before he can stomp out after me.

  I decide to contact Wesley and see if he wants to try to really give this this— us— a go. But that’ll have to wait until next week. Because there’s another man who’s already claimed my attention this weekend. And I have a lot of explaining to do to him.

  I head to my car, which is mostly packed for the weekend trip. I have to go home and pack a bit more before heading out, but I can’t wait to get the hell out of here. It will be refreshing to spend time at the lake house after how these past few weeks have gone.

  I send my dad a text message before starting my car.

  Dad- I’m leaving early for the cabin. See you when you get there, and let’s talk. If you hear anything about Wesley allegedly selling drugs, please hold off judgment until then. Love you. Chelsea.

  Hopefully if I tell him that I dated Wesley and he’s a nice guy and that I think Christian is setting him up, he’ll believe me. I know I risk my dad’s wrath but at this point I’m sick of hiding the truth and I don’t want Wesley to get in trouble.

  Chapter 46 – Chelsea

  As usual, it takes me longer to finish packing than I’d expected. I’m not really getting much more of an early start than when my dad will probably leave, after his practice gets out. But at least I’m finally on my way.

  On my drive up to the cabin, I have a gut feeling that this weekend is it. It’s when my dad is going to tell me he’s going to propose to Taylor’s mom. But I’m honestly going to try my best to be happy for him. At least someone I know is happy. And Wesley was right— it’s always good when one’s parents are happy, as opposed to the alternative.

  When I get to the cabin, I park in front and get out of my car. I swear I hear whistling coming from the back of the cabin. That’s odd, because the place is deserted. No one has been here since Taylor and Wesley and I were, after the party.

  Then as I get closer to the sound, I realize it’s the same tune that Dad always whistles. And it dawns on me. Dad probably left for the cabin once he received my text.

  It’s rare of him to skip practice, but the assistant coaches can handle it and he was probably ready to get an early start on the weekend once he found out that I wanted to. And it doesn’t take him nearly as long as it takes me to pack and get on the road.

  I hadn’t gotten a response text from him letting me know that he had left early too, but his reception is always spotty so far out here in the woods, as is mine on the long drive up here.

  He probably parked in the back, near his small shed with the fishing equipment. Leave it to Dad to want to get a head start on getting things ready before I arrived.

  He probably wants to surprise me by having it all set up by the time I get here, so we can fish now before the sun goes down instead of having to wait until the morning to start. That explains the lack of a text as well.

  I head down the slight hill to the back of the cabin and freeze.

  Because it’s not my dad who’s whistling.

  It’s Christian Lewis.

  I scream without meaning to, and he turns around calmly, since he was clearly expecting me.

  “Lovely to see you again, Chelsea,” he says.

  His light gray eyes pierce into mine, resembling a predator stalking its prey.

  I try to run back to my car, but it’s like one of those bad dreams where everything goes in slow motion just when everything should be speeding up instead. My legs feel like lead. And I’m no match for a running back.

  He quickly catches up to me and grabs my wrists, holding them behind my back.

  I scream some more, although the closest cabin is half a mile away and I doubt anyone is around to hear me. He pulls tape out of his pocket— he’s obviously well prepared to do whatever it is he plans to do to me— and puts it over my mouth. I struggle to escape as he does it, but he pushes me down onto a chair and ties my wrists behind it.

  “Don’t think you can escape,” he says. “There’s no way out.”

  I’m tied to the same chair I was sitting in while Wesley and I prepared the fish for cooking.

  That memory flashes before my eyes, as does my entire life. I can’t believe that just a short while ago, everything was great and I was falling in love with Wesley Reynolds.

  Yes, it’s true. I was falling in love.

  I am in love.

  Only now when it appears that my life might be ending do I have the honesty to admit my feelings to myself. And it’s too late. I’ll never get to admit them to Wesley.

  Chapter 47 – Wesley

  I can’t believe I’ve been called into Coach Thompson’s office again.

  Last time this happened, it wasn’t good. I’m hoping he might just want to call me out for being in fantasy land during practice. There can’t possibly be any more bad news, since I’ve been studying my ass off and walking the straight and narrow.

  Taylor had found me a new tutor after the one she’d set up to test me with obviously hadn’t worked out. She’d told me she was sorry for not believing me but that she was glad I’d passed her test because a big part of her had always thought that Chelsea and I made a great couple.

  But by then it was too late, as Chelsea was fed up with both of us. Hopefully our plan to win Chelsea back will work.

  I can’t get with Chelsea until I convince her I’m not the monster she thinks I am. Which I have a plan for. It jus
t takes time, and patience. And not being hassled any further by her father.

  In the meantime, I’ve been studying my ass off and not missing a minute of class.

  “Come on in,” Coach Thompson says, as soon as I knock on his office door.

  “Hi Coach,” I say, rather nervously, sitting back down in what I’ve come to consider the “hot seat” on the other side of his desk

  “Wesley. Thanks for coming in.”

  Today he looks all business, but also kind of friendly— not menacing like he did the last time I was here.

  “No problem, Coach. What’s up?”

  “Well. A couple things. I got the result of your algebra re-test and you did very well.”

  “Whew.”

  I can’t help but exhale with relief. I was pretty sure I’d done well on it, but that’s what I’d thought the last time too. And, fuck, had I been wrong about that.

  “Guess your new tutor is working out better for you than studying with Christian, huh?” Coach asks.

  “Sure seems that way.”

  “About that. It appears we have a problem on our hands.”

  I look up at him, trying to decipher how serious this problem is. From the look on his face it’s a pretty big one.

  “What is it, Coach?”

  “I received an anonymous tip that there are drugs in your locker, and that you’d sold them to the cheerleader who overdosed.”

  “What?” I practically spring up out of my chair. “Coach. That’s ridiculous. I did no such thing. I can explain about the former charge on my record…”

  “I know,” Coach says, the creases in his forehead becoming even more prominent. “And there’s no need to explain.”

  I look at him, dumbfounded.

  “My daughter vouched for you. And while I’m not entirely pleased with why or how that may have come to pass, that’s good enough for me.”

  “Chelsea… did what?”

  I’m still confused.

  “How did Chelsea even know about these allegations?” I ask, incredulous.

  “I don’t know,” Coach Thompson responds, scratching his head. “I guess word gets around fast. And I’m sure that Christian Lewis is behind all of this.”

  “Really?”

  I feel like such an idiot. I knew that Christian had been acting strangely but I’d just chalked it up to good old fashioned jealously.

  “Do you really think he’s capable of trying to sabotage me to this extent?”

  Coach Thompson shrugs.

  “Don’t know. But who else could it be? Seems to me he’s the only one who has shown any inclination or motivation to hurt you, and who knows how far he could take it?”

  He scratches his chin before continuing.

  “I’ve seen a dark side of him this season that I have to admit scares me. I don’t know what he’s capable of. But right now my main concern is figuring out what to do about this accusation.”

  “Just ignore it?” I suggest. “Maybe once he figures out that nothing’s being done, he’ll escalate it and then we’ll have proof that it’s him behind it.”

  “I thought about that,” Coach Thompson admits. “But the next logical step would be for him to go to the administration. And if the administration hears the allegations and finds out that I knew about them, they’re going to wonder why I didn’t fill them in. And there goes our agreement. They won’t let me let you play if I don’t stay on the up and up myself.”

  “Yeah.”

  I sink back into the “hot seat,” which would be burning my ass up right now if it were literally hot. That’s how much of a pickle we’re in.

  “So now what?”

  “I think I’m going to have to tell them what’s been alleged and that I don’t believe it,” Coach Thompson says. “But that means throwing Christian under the bus. And to tell you the truth, I’m afraid that if he escalates this, it won’t be something rational, like reporting to the administration.”

  I nod, in full agreement.

  “Nothing he’s been doing has been very logical,” the coach continues. “If he’s resorted to planting drugs to try to frame you and even that doesn’t work, then I don’t know what he’ll try to do to you next. At this point I have to look out for your safety here. I think that before I go to the administration, I somehow need to get ironclad proof…”

  “Wait,” I interrupt, my heart racing faster than it does during an overtime pass. The phrases “escalating” and “dark side of him” and “don’t know what he’ll try to do to you next” keep banging around inside my head. “Where is Christian?”

  “I don’t know,” Coach Thompson shrugs. “I tried to find him to talk about all of this, until I thought better of that plan and decided to call you in instead. But he never came to my office, even though I’d put the word out for him to come, before I did the same for you.”

  “The last time I saw him, he was leaving campus after you’d announced that you were going to the lake house with Chelsea. Where is Chelsea?”

  Coach Thompson suddenly looks at worried as I feel.

  “She headed to the lake house early,” he says meekly, his skin turning pale.

  “We need to go, now.”

  Already on our feet, we both head towards the door.

  “We need to call Taylor on our way,” I tell Coach Thompson.

  I hope Taylor and I can still execute our plan to win Chelsea back once we find her. I hope it’s not too late for Chelsea and I to be together the way I’m now sure we’re meant to be.

  Chapter 48 – Chelsea

  Christian begins talking to me as he ties one of my ankles to the heavy cutting table beside the chair.

  “You thought you could just turn me down and I’d forget all about it, didn’t you?” he asks.

  I shake my head but since I can’t say anything in return, he just goes right on talking.

  “I put myself out there, and I took the risk that your dad would kick me off the team. I might never be able to play football anywhere else again. But I still asked you out. Because that’s how much I knew I wanted to be with you.”

  He glares at me, obviously hating me now while professing how much he used to like me.

  “When you told me you couldn’t disobey Daddy Dearest I was hurt, but I figured, ‘Well, that makes sense. She has to worry about the risks just as I do. And she hasn’t discovered how we’re supposed to be together yet. As time goes by, she’ll realize there’s no other guy for her and eventually we’ll get together. Maybe even at the end of senior year, or after graduation, when they can’t do anything against us.’”

  Wow.

  He really had quite the Romeo and Juliet fantasy going on about him and me. I never realized he’d liked me that much.

  I almost feel sorry for him, but then I realize he has me bound and tied up at my own family’s fishing cabin. He obviously has more than a couple screws loose, and I can’t put much weight into anything he says.

  “But then Wesley Reynolds comes along to steal my thunder in every way possible. I was the star of the show on the field and off before he arrived.”

  I look at him funny, and he says, “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Yes Christian, you were the star player on the team prior to Wesley’s arrival, but you were the running back. On a team with a bad quarterback. On a team that never wins games. So now you had the opportunity to be a good running back on a winning team with a great quarterback.’ But guess who gets all the credit and all the glory in that scenario?”

  I just look at him.

  “The fucking quarterback. That’s who. I was better off being a big fish in a small pond. Now I’m just a nobody.”

  As he whines on and on, I think about how crazy it is that Wesley and I were just gutting fish in this very chair, and now I’m being held captive by a psychopath. My only hope is that my dad gets here soon. Although I’m pretty sure that Christian has a plan to deal with Dad if he does arrive. Somehow Christian knew I’d be here so he probably knows my dad
is supposed to be here too.

  And then I remember that the knife we were using to gut the fish would still be on the ground. I look around, and sure enough, I see it glistening in the grass not too far away, partially obscured by the table I’m tied to.

  “And I’m clearly a nobody to you too,” Christian continues.

  I quickly lift my eyes back up to his face and act interested in what he’s saying, so that he won’t figure out what I was just looking at.

  “Because when Wesley came along, you quickly forgot all about Daddy Dearest’s rules. That was clearly only an excuse you wanted to use with me, not with the great and powerful Wesley.”

  I try my best to look sympathetic, while trying to devise a plan of escape in my head that will give me enough time to distract Christian and get away from him.

  I’m glad that he just continues talking. He must be oblivious to the knife’s existence. I’m beginning to realize that Christian isn’t the most observant guy. He only likes to focus on himself. And I can definitely use this fact in my favor.

  “At first, I figured that Wesley would dig his own grave quickly enough. He’s always good at screwing things up for himself. And sure enough, right away he changed the coach’s call. He was disobedient and disrespectful. But did your dad care? No. Somehow he seemed to like Wesley even more.”

  That’s Wesley, I think.

  “So then, I had to get a bit more involved. I tried to screw Wesley over by pretending to help him on his math test but really only setting him up to fail.”

  He announces this act in a bragging voice.

  What an asshole.

  “But that didn’t work either. He got yet another chance. Golden Boy can do no wrong. So I had to get even more involved. And now I have him where I want him— caught red-handed with a bunch of drugs in his locker.”

  I just stare at him.

  “I bet you’re wondering how I accomplished that feat,” Christian says, still bragging.