The Path to Freedom (Task Force 125)

by Pietsch, Lisa; Gerow, Tina

  Then came the whammy. “Let’s not forget, sweetheart, you were the one who decided to sleep around on me.”

  Sarah was stunned and disappointed in womankind. For a woman to cheat on a man and then demand everything in the divorce settlement was completely beyond her comprehension.

  Whoa! Quite the plot twist. This bimbo has balls!

  Sarah had never cheated on a man in her life. She’d been every man’s doormat.

  It’s one thing for a woman to honestly let men know they’re being used for sex, but another thing altogether to commit to one and then cheat on him.

  Sarah glanced at her cigarette, finally realizing she’d been so intent on staring at the woman and watching the unfolding drama that the ash on her cigarette was about to drop off the tip. She dropped the ash into an ash tray and turned back to watch the scene.

  The blond’s furious gaze met Sarah’s. “What the hell do you want?”

  I want to kick your ass for being born beautiful and thinking the world is supposed to hand you everything you want on a silver platter, bitch!

  Sarah stood a head taller than the woman and wasn’t at all used to being yelled at by women she could so obviously crush into a fine powder. It took Sarah barely a moment to recover herself from the surprise, then she looked down at the bimbo and said, matter-of-factly, “Margarita on the rocks, no salt, please.”

  The blond gave Sarah the once over. “Screw you. I don’t work here. Now turn around and mind your own business.”

  Sarah’s temperature rose. She clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into the palms of her hands.

  Clearly this broad is in need of having her teeth handed to her! Okay, Stevens, consider your options. You’re a civilian now, so there won’t be any problem with Uncle Sam if you take this tart to task. Of course, mixing it up means the possibility of missing your ride to camp. Option two, diffuse the situation.

  Sarah couldn’t resist one final jab. “There’s hardly any need to be so rude. After all, you do look like you’re on the job.” Sarah turned back to her drink.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” trilled the tramp as she pushed past the man and moved into Sarah’s personal space.

  Nothing would have pleased Sarah more at that moment than to blacken this woman’s perfect blue eyes, bloody her pouty, pink lips and leave her for dead in a Las Vegas alley.

  Get a grip, Stevens. Don’t let this trash and your short fuse ruin what has so far been a fantastic night. She’s not worth it.

  Sarah took a deep breath, put on her best game face and said innocently, “I’m so sorry! Oh, you’re just so pretty I assumed you worked here.”

  The blond seemed completely taken in by the sugary-sweet diversion, glanced at the man with a “see, I’m beautiful and you don’t stand a chance” smile, turned on her stiletto heel and strutted away.

  Note to selfone of these days I’ll clean that bitch’s clock!

  The man who’d taken a verbal beating from the bimbo turned to face Sarah. He wore a dark blue, double-breasted silk suit and a white collarless silk shirt. He had skin the color of dark, rich honey. Like a caramel that makes your mouth water at the very thought of a taste. He didn’t have traditional good looks, but was magnetic nonetheless.

  As though he couldn’t be bothered with hair, his head was shaved, leaving him nothing to hide behind, nothing to distract the eye from the man himself. He clearly took great care of his body. His physical presence overpowered. Sarah had only seen one man built so perfectly, but he would never be in a place like this.

  As the man took a drink, she caught the faintest hint of a scent, smooth and musky. Sarah found the scent so compelling she couldn’t help but breathe deeply to draw as much of it in as possible.

  He smiled at her with eyes that drew her in as though she were entering a softly lit room furnished with overstuffed velvet chairs in front of a crackling fire. Eyes that took her somewhere she could finally relax, forget the world, and be at ease after a long day. His dark brown eyebrows only accentuated and punctuated the effect of those fawn colored eyes.

  Broad shoulders so amassed with muscle that the weight of the world shouldn’t make them stoop. His chest appeared chiseled from granite, rock hard with edges yet to be sanded and filed. Her eyes trailed lower to his legs, like tree trunks, they were solid and well defined. So well defined that even the drape of a finely tailored silk suit couldn’t hide the power contained within. No, he wasn’t pretty, but he was a man so completely male, so absolutely masculine that she couldn’t help but be totally drawn to him.

  Sarah felt a growing warmth inside that confirmed her immediate sexual attraction to the man. She snapped out of the trance and realized this was the point where she usually fell for the guy, leaving herself open to more pain when he dumped her for a bimbo just like the one she’d just exchanged words with.

  No, thank you very much. I don’t care how hot you are, how great you smell or how much I’d like to hear your voice in the dark. Men like you are bad news for me.

  “Thanks,” he said with a smile that made her knees tremble. “I thought you might make my dreams come true and actually smack her for being so rude.” He held out his hand. “I’m Vince.”

  Sarah didn’t shake his hand. “I’m, uh, sorry. I have to go,” she said hurriedly as she tipped the bartender and took her drink to a corner table well away from what had to be the sexiest man on the frigging planet.

  I’m a blubbering idiot. Oh, I’d be happy to make your dreams come true, and then some, but you are just too much. Too hot. Too smooth. Too fine. You are the kind of guy who would rock my world for about a week and then make all my nightmares come true. Nope. It’s best that I just steer clear of you altogether.

  Soon after Sarah sat down and lit another cigarette, she noticed a large group of people in the corner nearest her were having a fabulous time. Waitresses brought trays of champagne bottles and the people laughed and carried on as though they were having the time of their lives. At the center of all the mirth was an attractive man who must have been about fifty. He had short black hair with just a touch of gray at his temples and dark brown eyes that seemed to be constantly laughing. He had beautiful teeth and a melodic laugh. There was something about his manner that made him look like he knew how to have a good time. Just a good time was exactly what Sarah wanted for tonight.

  Not another man to pull me in and break my heart, just a guy who wants to have a little fun. A guy that I’ll be able to walk away from.

  When the man glanced at Sarah, she didn’t turn away. She simply stared into his eyes and smiled.

  Not long afterward, he and what appeared to be his entourage stood and headed toward the door. As they passed Sarah’s table, he stopped. “Que bella!” He said approvingly in a thick Italian accent.

  That explains it.

  Sarah nodded graciously, smiled and replied, “Gratzi.”

  Jackpot! There’s just something about Italian men. They’re useless if you want a commitment, but perfect if you want a good time.

  He winked. “Ah, you speak Italian, but surely you must be American?”

  “Yes and yes. My name is Sarah.” She reached out to shake his hand.

  He gently kissed the back of her knuckles. “Call me Angelo and tonight I will call you my queen. Come with us. We are going to a party in my suite upstairs. You must come!” He continued to hold her hand.

  Sounds perfect.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sarah accepted Angelo’s offer. She joined his entourage of raucous assorted jet setters, who all looked liked they belonged on the pages of Vogue and GQ, to Caesar’s Palace’s finest suite. Sarah was treated like a queen, as promised. She and Angelo’s entourage drank the finest champagne that room service could provide and lots of it. Sarah didn’t really need the champagne. She bubbled with the excitement of how this night had evolved and how her life had turned around.

  Angelo stroked Sarah’s hair. “Cara, more champagne?”

/>   Sarah offered her glass and smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

  You are just what I needa fling with absolutely no demands and no expectations.

  Sarah and Angelo flirted shamelessly all evening.

  Angelo couldn’t keep his hands off her. He ran his fingers through her hair, caressed her back when she stood beside him and touched her legs, lightly but never inappropriately whenever they sat together.

  Somewhere around three in the morning, Sarah snaked her arm around Angelo’s shoulder and whispered that it was time for her to go to bed.

  Angelo’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, of course.” He took Sarah’s hand and stood. “Buona notte, tutto! Please continue to enjoy yourselves.” He led Sarah through the room as he said goodnight to his guests and then opened the door to the master bedroom. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he pulled her toward him and met her with a long, slow kiss. They never spoke, but Angelo seemed to instinctively understand Sarah’s needs. She truly felt like a goddess as Angelo worshipped and pleased every inch of her body.

  Sarah lay in bed, physically exhausted and sated.

  Closure. Scott was wrong. It isn’t me. I’m attractive, sexy, men want me and want to be around me. I’m not invisible any more. I want more of this. A lot more!

  ~~~

  Sarah had only slept about three hours when she awoke at ten the next morning, but her energy had been renewed nonetheless.

  No sense letting that huge Roman tub go to waste. I might as well get that bubble bath I’ve been wanting and make this a winning trip all around.

  Sarah filled the huge garden tub with hot water and bubbles. She stepped in, sighed and enjoyed the best soak of her life.

  Her thoughts wandered back to the man she’d forced herself to walk away from the night before. The old Sarah would have stayed at the bar and talked to him all night. The old Sarah would have wasted her whole night on him and then watched him go home with somebody else.

  The old Sarah was a sucker, a chump, a loser. The new Sarah needs to be the shoe instead of the doormat. I’ll never let myself get into a situation where a man can hurt me again. Vince? He is too hot for any Sarah to handleold or new.

  After about an hour, Angelo entered the master bathroom with a sleepy smile and a tray containing espresso and biscotti. He set it down on the table beside the tub. “I thought you might enjoy some breakfast.”

  Sarah opened her eyes and smiled at him from her cloud of bubbles. She took the small cup of espresso Angelo offered and sipped. “Thank you, it’s perfect.”

  Now this is where I should beon a pedestal.

  Angelo leaned against the vanity and crossed his arms with a smile. “I have business meetings all day, but you should stay. Make yourself comfortable. Order room service. We’ll have dinner together tonight.”

  Sarah stood and wrapped one of the plush cotton towels around her body while Angelo watched.

  Damn, it’s nice to be looked at like that.

  Sarah drank the last bit of espresso in the small cup. “That sounds wonderful, but I can’t. I’m leaving town within the hour.”

  The last thing I’m going to tell you is I’m on a twenty-four hour pass from fat camp and have to return immediately.

  Sarah caressed Angelo’s unshaven cheek, sauntered into the bedroom and began to dress.

  The hum of an electric razor came from within the bathroom as Sarah slid her feet into her stilettos.

  Angelo, now clean-shaven, came into the bedroom. He picked up his cell phone on the bedside table and checked his messages while Sarah brushed her hair.

  When he’d pocketed his phone, Sarah kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

  He returned her smile. “Prego, cara. It was my pleasure.”

  I know. But it is nice to hear it anyway.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sarah felt quite pleased with herself when she returned to camp.

  I can’t wait to tell Tracey what happened. She’s never going to believe this.

  Sarah and Tracey had become pretty close since they’d started their programs at the camp. They encouraged each other to push past their boundaries and test their physical and mental limits. They each knew the pain of rejection and what it was like to be invisible in the world of beautiful people. Feeling that same sort of pain and fighting to overcome it had created a very strong bond between them.

  Time to come out of your shell, too, Trace.

  Sarah’s heart rate kicked up a notch and her palms grew moist as she put on the now familiar blindfold for the final leg of the trip back to the camp.

  Shawn, her trainer, drove the Suburban. “Nervous, Sarah?”

  “No, just anxious to get back to my training. We gonna do some sparring this afternoon?”

  Shawn chuckled. “Hey, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you fight Jason.”

  The scout named Jason piped up from the back seat. “No way man. I’m not fighting a girl. If I lose, I’m a pussy. If I win, I’m a bully. No way.”

  “Jason, I got news for ya,” Shawn answered. “You are a pussy.”

  Sarah smiled but said nothing.

  The vehicle stopped.

  “We’re here, Sarah,” Shawn announced. “Go get your fighting clothes on.”

  Sarah left the blindfold on the front seat and stepped out of the Suburban. She took one last look at the two scouts and began the walk to her hut.

  Something doesn’t feel right. Those guys smiled at me like they know something I don’t.

  As Sarah neared her hut, a nervous sensation churned in the pit of her stomach. She flipped the latch on the hut door and walked in. Somebody was inside but it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust from bright sunlight to the dark hut interior. Two men wearing black BDUs came into focus and Tracey was nowhere to be seen.

  Sarah spoke first. “Who are you?”

  One of the men spoke. “Would you come with us, please?”

  I knew this would happen. I have to leave eventually.

  Sarah was ready. Last night only served to prove to her that her weight was no longer a liability. The only problem was that she still didn’t have a plan. A sudden wave of panic threatened to drown her. Her mind raced. She had no place to go and very little money to get started.

  No job. No college degree. That’s okay. I’m going to make this work. I wonder if I’m too old to get into another branch of the military.

  Sarah followed the men as they walked to the command hut. They escorted her to a stark waiting area that consisted of a small, unpainted room no bigger than a closet. There were two chairs that looked as though they’d been tossed around military offices since World War II.

  “Knock once, and then wait,” said one of the men in black BDUs before they closed the door and left her alone inside the room. She knocked once on the inner door.

  A man’s voice came from within the next room. “Enter.”

  Sarah opened the door and walked into a gorgeous office. Dark oak paneling covered the bottom three feet of the walls and then forest green paint covered the rest of the wall up to the ceiling. There was a ceiling fan that looked as though it had come out of the movie Casablanca and the room was noticeably cool. Sitting behind a large, solid oak desk, was a man with imposing dimensions.

  Wow! They sure do pick the right guys for these jobs, don’t they?

  The man behind the desk had a dark tan and light hair cut “high and tight.” He also wore black BDU trousers and a black T-shirt. In front of the desk were two red leather, wing-backed Chippendale chairs.

  Sarah stood between the chairs, in front of the desk.

  He gave Sarah a visual once over. “Have a nice time last night?”

  It must have been a rhetorical question because he didn’t wait for an answer.

  No sooner had Sarah opened her mouth than he began speaking again.

  “So…eight weeks in Phase I and you lost fifty pounds. After five weeks in Phase II you lost another twenty-five pounds.” He op
ened a file folder. “I hear you’ve used up all your sparring partners and have to spar with instructors now. I might add that the list of volunteers to spar with you and your pal, Tracey, is getting shorter by the minute.” He looked up at Sarah who remained standing in front of the desk. “You’ve really gone about as far as you can go here.”

  “I think I could really accomplish a lot more if I stayed just a bit longer.” Sarah hoped to buy herself some more time at the camp to get a plan together.

  Why haven’t I been thinking about a plan?

  He dismissed her suggestion with a wave of his hand. “Most people who’ve come as far as you have said the same thing. So, what will you do now?”

  “I honestly don’t know, sir,” she replied. “I have no job, no place to live…”

  “Well, you seem like the kind of woman who can get whatever she’s after.”

  Are you judging me? Just what do you know about me?

  “With all due respect, sir...”

  “Spare me the righteous indignation. What you’ve got is a marketable skill like any other. I was merely making a statement of fact. In fact, you have quite a package of skills when it comes right down to it.” He shuffled through several pages in the file folder. “Let’s see here. Joined the Air Force as a Linguist. What language do you speak?”

  “Spanish, French, a little Italian and some Russian.”

  “Where did you go to school for those?”

  Pride swelled in her chest. “I didn’t, sir.”

  “Hmm…self taught, huh? Not bad.” He browsed through the file again. “Says here you were trained as a Hostage/Crisis Negotiator by the FBI. Looks like you also managed to get a BA in International Relations during your enlistment. All that and you’re an expert marksman, too. Not bad.”

  Sarah suddenly realized how much she missed the military life. She missed feeling as though she had a mission and always being on the move to some place even more exciting than the last. “Sir, would you mind telling me where you’re going with this?”