My Protector (Once a SEAL, Always a SEAL Book 5)

by Layla Valentine

  Well, that and Joel.

  There’s a part of me that can’t believe what just happened between us—that I finally gave in to my overwhelming attraction for him like that. Now that I’m not in the room with him, I’m questioning myself. Was it just a moment of weakness? But I don’t think it was. I felt so connected to him. Somewhere between hearing the story of how he lost his father at such a young age and lying down in front of that fire, something changed between us. Something fundamental. I no longer felt at his mercy. Maybe that’s what ultimately gave me the strength to steal the handcuffs and map and make my move.

  But I feel terrible. How could I have left him locked up like that? Right after we had sex. Right after he went into town and specifically chose not to lock me up. How will he ever forgive me?

  I had to do it, I tell myself over and over as I steer up the side of the mountain. Repeating the mantra helps me focus, distracting me from my fear. I had to do it. I have to know where Dad is, and Joel was never going to tell me. This was the only way.

  Now I just have to work on believing that.

  Eventually, the path leads me to a long and winding driveway that ends at a small wooden cabin like the one I’ve just left. I’m immediately hopeful that I’ve come to the right place. Not only is it another cabin in the middle of the woods, but I can see that the lights are on inside. Someone is home. However, I don’t recognize the older vehicle parked in front.

  Did Dad buy a different car? Is someone else there with him?

  I park the car I’m driving, but suddenly I find myself unwilling to get out. Am I really ready for this? After all, if what Joel has told me is true, Dad is mixed up with some unsavory people. Joel said he doesn’t protect criminals, and I don’t really think Dad would have done anything illegal anyway, but I can’t help remembering Joel’s own story about what happened to his father. Could my dad have racked up insurmountable gambling debts and now have loan sharks coming after him?

  And if he has, how am I going to forgive that? After all, his life isn’t the only one that’s been affected. According to Joel, I’m in mortal danger, and the only thing I can do to ensure my safety is to change my whole identity. I’m losing the person I’ve been all my life, and my father’s actions are to blame. I don’t want to walk in there and immediately be angry with him, but I’m honestly worried that as soon as I see him, I’ll start yelling.

  Maybe Joel was right. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.

  But I did come. And now that I’m here, there’s no chance I’m not going to walk through that door and at least face him. No matter how angry I am, he’s still my father. I love him. I want to see that he’s all right.

  I wade through the snow to the front door and knock.

  Silence.

  Of course. If he’s in hiding, he’s not very likely to answer a knock on the door. I knock again, and this time I announce myself. “Dad! It’s Jenna!”

  A beat. Then the door flies open. Dad stands before me, his eyes wide as saucers. “Jenna!”

  And then we’re embracing, and all my worries evaporate. I don’t care. I don’t care what he did to get us into this situation, or whether he’s been dishonest with me all my life. I don’t care about everything I’m losing or the terror I went through when Joel kidnapped me from the airport. All that matters is that my father is here, that we’re back together. We’re both alive and well. Everything else, we can figure out.

  He steps back and looks me over. “My God, I was worried about you.”

  “So you did hire Joel?” I ask. “It was true?”

  He nods. “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “He was a complete stranger, Dad. He picked me up at the airport and drove me to a cabin in the middle of the woods before he bothered to explain himself. What was I supposed to think?”

  Dad rubs a hand over his chin, and I notice for the first time that he’s grown a bit of stubble and there’s dirt under his nails. Dad is usually immaculately groomed. This experience has taken its toll on him, I realize, just like it has on me.

  “Come in,” he says finally, and with a hand on my back, steers me toward a table. I notice that his cabin is arranged much like my own: a single room with the only door leading to what is probably a tiny bathroom.

  Once I’m installed at the kitchen table, Dad rummages in his refrigerator and brings out two sodas and a brick of cheese. I wait while he slices the cheese and arranges it on a plate with some crackers and grapes. It’s not exactly cooking, but working with food was always good for Dad’s emotional state after a tough day at work, and I’m glad he still has the opportunity to do that. At the same time, though, I’m thinking about Joel’s feeble attempts at food preparation and my own promises to cook for him. Once again, my conscience twinges a bit at the way I left him.

  Dad serves up the food and joins me at the table. “I needed to make sure you were safe,” he said. “I knew that once I dropped off the grid, you would be targeted. That’s why I had Joel meet you at the airport and take you to the safe house. I’m sure it was alarming for you, and I’m sorry about that, Lima Bean. I wish I’d had time to explain in person. But it was absolutely necessary.”

  “You can explain in person now,” I say. “What happened, Dad? Who are we hiding from?”

  He sighs. “A man named Carl Boetsch,” he says, running his hand over his scruffy chin once more. “He’s a nightclub owner, and I was sent in to audit his expenses last year. I discovered he’d been profiting illegally as a loan shark, lending out money to people on the fringes and demanding exorbitant interest rates, sending hit men to collect when they couldn’t pay. Of course, I would have had to report it to my superiors, but before I could, I found my tires slashed. I knew it was a warning. I don’t know if Boetsch knows what I found, or if he was just telling me to stop looking, but I do know that people who cross him tend to turn up dead.”

  I feel like my mind is caught in a whirlpool. “If that’s true, why hasn’t he been arrested?” I ask. “If he’s linked to so many deaths?”

  “Because he’s not closely linked to them,” Dad says. “It’s not something anyone but an auditor would notice, because there’s no public record of the loans and collections. He was strictly under the table. You see, as I was going through his financial records, I noticed suspicious figures. Round sums transferred to a variety of people. But when I looked into who those people were, I couldn’t see a connection. They weren’t any kind of service provider, nor were they personal friends or employees of Boetsch. The connection, I finally realized, was that many of them had declared bankruptcy at some point in their lives, and many of them had died young. It wasn’t conclusive, but it was a chilling pattern, and significant evidence.”

  I think it is, too, and I shudder at the thought of this Carl Boetsch coming after my father. I’m proud of him for figuring it out, but I’m equally terrified. If Boetsch truly doesn’t hesitate to kill, then Dad and I could be next. And Joel is probably in danger, too, for helping us.

  “What do we do?” I ask.

  “I’m sure Joel has talked to you about it,” he says. “We change our identities. We disappear so Boetsch can never find us. I’ve invested nearly all my savings in this. I hired Joel to help us secure the documents we need to start a new life and get us set up far away from here.”

  “And Boetsch goes free?” I ask. It seems like there must be a way to turn him in. We can’t just walk away from what we know.

  “Boetsch goes free,” Dad says. His shoulders slump, and his hand goes to his chin. I can tell this aspect of the situation has been weighing on him. Dad is an idealist and always has been. The idea of justice not being served and a guilty and violent man being allowed to continue his life of crime must be torturing him. “Boetsch goes free,” he says again, “and so do we.”

  I nod. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” I say, leaning over to hug my father again.

  In that moment, it’s like all the anxiety I’ve been feeling over the past twenty-four h
ours has been washed away. He’s safe, and I’m safe. Not only that, it’s a huge relief to realize that he hasn’t committed any crimes or done anything terrible to ruin our lives. I’m ashamed of myself for even thinking he could have. Of course this situation isn’t his fault. I should have known better. All he was doing was his job, and he just happened to stumble into something dangerous. We’re both in over our heads now, but at least we’re in it together. And at least we’ve got Joel to help us out.

  At the thought of Joel, my conscience nudges me again. My father has confirmed his story—Joel has done nothing but try to help and protect us, and I repaid him by handcuffing him in the cabin and stealing his car, going against the instructions he was clear about. I hope I didn’t put him at risk by doing that. I still think he should have taken me to my father right away, instead of keeping us separate, but I’m starting to regret the way I handled it.

  Dad seems to be reading my mind. “Where is Joel, anyway?” he asks.

  Even though I’m not proud of it, I admit to what I had to do to get away. Dad frowns. “I’m not sure that was wise,” he says. “You should get back there right away.”

  I can’t help defending myself. “He shouldn’t have kept us apart. It would have been so much easier for me to trust him if I could have spoken to you from the beginning.”

  Dad nods. “I know. But Joel is the expert. There’s a reason I paid so much for his help. He knows what he’s doing, and he knows how to keep people safe. The best thing we can do is obey his instructions to the letter.” He sighs and hugs me again. “As much as I don’t want you to go, sweetheart, I think you need to get back there and let him know what you did. And don’t leave that house again unless he tells you to.”

  “Come with me,” I urge, thinking quickly. “We’ll go back together and get him. Maybe once we’re all in the same place, he’ll be able to come up with a plan that lets us stay together. He’s smart, Dad, and like you said, he’s the best at his job.”

  I know Joel won’t be happy with me for what I’ve done, but I also know he wants me to be happy. We’re talking about the man who picked out nail polish for me, for God’s sake. If there’s a way for Dad and me to stay together, I know he’ll be willing to try it. What I don’t mention—what I don’t even want to think about right now—is that half an hour ago we were naked together on the floor of our cabin. There’s no privacy in there, and I’d be completely sacrificing any chance to have sex with Joel again. But to have my father nearby, it’s worth it.

  But Dad shakes his head. “I wish I could,” he says, “but Joel instructed me to stay here in this safe house no matter what. For all I know, I could be risking your life by leaving.”

  “I can’t believe you can trust him so blindly,” I say. “How can you be sure he’s right about all this?”

  “It’s the best chance I have,” Dad says. “It’s the best chance either of us has, Jenna. I told you. I don’t know how to keep us safe from Boetsch, but Joel does. I trust him because I have to trust him. I don’t have any other choice.”

  I know he’s right. As much as I want to stay, or beg him to come with me, Joel is the one who knows what he’s doing. I hug my father one last time, hoping with everything in me that we’ll see each other soon, and then I pull on my coat and move toward the door.

  And freeze.

  From outside the cabin, I can just about make out a soft, regular crunching noise like the sound of heavy boots walking through snow. And they seem to be getting closer.

  I stare at my father, and he stares back at me. I can see my own confusion and fear reflected in his eyes as we mutually realize that neither of us has the slightest idea what to do.

  Chapter 13

  Jenna

  My eyes flick to the light switch on the wall beside the door. The light in the cabin was the thing that first alerted me to my father’s presence, after all, and I know it will be a dead giveaway to whoever’s outside that someone is in here.

  Dad is already shaking his head, clearly following my train of thought. “It’s too late,” he says, whispering. “They’ve already seen the light.”

  He’s right. If we turn it off now, we’ll just give ourselves away even more.

  I crouch down on the floor near the wall so I won’t be seen through the window, and Dad follows suit. “Did you hear a car?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I wasn’t paying attention, though,” he says. “They might have driven up earlier, while we were talking. I was so happy to see you, someone could have been setting off fireworks out there and I wouldn’t have noticed.”

  I feel the same way. “Who do you think it could be?” I ask. “There’s no one else staying here, is there?” I’m thinking of the custodial way Joel has been treating me and hoping the footsteps belong to a similar guardian who’s been left in charge of my father. But glancing around the cabin, I already know there isn’t much hope of that. There’s no sign of anyone else living here.

  “No,” he confirms. “Only Joel was supposed to know where I was. It was even a secret from you, remember? And he knew you would never betray me. He doesn’t give things away.”

  “But it can’t be Joel,” I say, thinking out loud. “I left him handcuffed to the pipes in the safe house.”

  “You did what? Did you leave the key to the handcuffs with him?” Dad asks, aghast.

  “I didn’t see the key,” I say. “I assume it was in the bag I took the handcuffs from, which I left in the bathroom on the opposite side of the cabin. There’s no way he would have been able to reach it.”

  “It’s possible he had the key on him.”

  “And walked all the way here?”

  “That would explain why we didn’t hear a car,” I say, but I can tell Dad doesn’t believe this theory any more than I do. If Joel had had the key, he wouldn’t have sat there asking me not to go. He would have taken it out immediately, freed himself, and stopped me. Besides, it would have taken much longer for him to walk here than it would for me to drive, especially in this weather. I don’t think there’s any way he could have made it here this quickly.

  “Do you think it’s him?” I whisper, fear chilling me. “Carl Boetsch?”

  Dad’s face is grim. “Go wait in the bathroom, Jenna. Close the door.”

  “I’m not going to hide in there while he…” I can’t finish the sentence any more than I can leave my father alone. If Boetsch is on the other side of that door, I’m going to do everything I can to prevent him from hurting Dad.

  The footsteps stop.

  I stare at Dad, frozen in place by fear. Now what?

  Then the silence is broken by a knock at the door. “Open up! Police!”

  A wash of relief comes over me. Police. Finally, someone I know I can trust.

  It feels like all our problems are about to be solved. We can tell the officer about Carl Boetsch and his crimes, and we’ll be protected. We won’t have to change our identities after all.

  I start to get to my feet, but Dad grabs my arm and holds me in place. He shakes his head vigorously and mimes with both hands that I should stay down.

  I watch as he creeps toward the window, keeping his body hunched low, and peers over the sill. Then he turns back to me. Uniform, he mouths, and I understand. He was checking to see whether the person at the door was a legitimate police officer.

  I crawl to his side. “Do we let him in?” I whisper.

  “I don’t know,” he whispers back.

  The knock comes again. “Open the door!”

  “He’s going to break it down if we don’t,” I say.

  Dad frowns but goes to the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob and waves me toward the bathroom.

  Emphatically, I shake my head.

  Dad sighs and opens the door. “Good evening, officer,” he says. “Is there a problem?”

  “May I come in?” the officer asks. He’s tall and muscled, with closely cropped hair and a clean-shaven face.

  I can tell Dad is hesita
nt, but there’s no good reason we can give for denying admittance to the police without casting suspicion on ourselves. Besides, the police aren’t hunting for Dad, and I’m sure Dad would recognize Boetsch if he saw him.

  Dad steps back into the cabin, and the man crosses the threshold. “I’m here on behalf of Joel Rust,” he says.

  “You know Joel?” I can’t keep myself from speaking up.

  The man looks at me for the first time. “You’re Jenna, aren’t you?” he asks.

  I don’t confirm or deny that. “What are you doing here?”

  “Joel sent me,” he says. “My instructions are to pick you up—both of you—and bring you with me.”

  “Bring us where?” Dad asks, his voice tight.

  “We have to get out of here,” the man says, glancing behind him. “I can explain on the way. But Joel’s instructions are for you both to come with me, and I’m to take you to the next safe house. I’ve got a car ready outside. I suggest you grab your things, because we need to move as quickly as possible.” He rests his hand on his belt, and I notice a gun tucked against his hip.

  Dad looks as uncomfortable with this new development as I feel. “Joel didn’t mention that anyone would be coming,” he says.

  “It was a last-minute decision,” the man says. “He just called me.”

  I see Dad’s eyes flick to me for confirmation, and I tilt my head slightly to indicate that this is plausible. I know Joel had a phone—I saw it in the cabin—and it seems likely that he would have kept it near him so he could reach it in a hurry. Especially to be available if my dad called. Maybe this man is here to collect us and bring us back to Joel. That would make sense. But if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he just tell us where we were going? And what would the big hurry be?

  “What’s your name?” Dad asks.

  “Shadow,” the man replies.

  I stifle a gasp. This is Shadow? Joel’s old friend from the SEALs who saved his life? It’s probably the only name he could have given that would have made me trust him. And I don’t think for a minute that he’s an imposter. There’s no way anyone could have known Joel would tell me that story. Joel himself didn’t want to talk about his time in the SEALs at first. No, this must be the real Shadow, and I know for a fact that he is telling the truth about being Joel’s friend.