Unconditional

by Holly Copella

  Unconditional

  Holly Copella

  Copyright © 2014 Holly Copella

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0997106409

  ISBN-13: 978-0-997106404

  For Michael Emerson--

  whose talent continues to inspire me

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Copella Books: First Paperback Edition 2016

  Cover Artist: Daniela

  SelfPubBookCovers.com/Daniela

  Printed by CreateSpace, An Amazon.com Company

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter One

  Flynn Stryker’s French colonial plantation style home sat nestled on a large parcel of land on a back road in the middle of nowhere. If there had been neighbors, they’d be envious of the grandeur of the home. The painstakingly refinished home had cascading brick steps leading up to the large front porch. Above the front porch was the second floor terrace in all its grandeur. The yard was professionally landscaped with large, older trees and neatly contained flowerbeds. Within the plantation house, the marble and wood grand foyer contained a beautiful, curved staircase cascading up to the second floor. The cathedral ceiling with its large, second floor window brightened the entire foyer. An attractive, dark-haired woman in her early twenties decorated the staircase railing with holly and ivy. Indy Stryker was regarded by many in town as ‘the girl next door’. She had an innocence about her that captured the hearts of many young men, but hers was a classic case of ‘looks can be deceiving’.

  A slightly older yet equally attractive woman with a slinky body and long, strawberry blonde hair followed Indy up the stairs while attaching large, red bows along the outer railing. Liz Masters was almost ten years Indy’s senior, but if events continued along their current path, she would be Indy’s stepmother. Indy’s father met and fell in love with Liz a little over ten months ago. Liz seemed perfect for Indy’s father in every conceivable way. Despite her trim, sexy body, she was a surprisingly good cook, which took some pressure off Indy, who just never quite mastered culinary excellence. Her father moved Liz into the family house prior to his most recent overseas deployment nearly five months ago. Although she felt his moving Liz into the house was rushed, Indy didn’t mind the company while her father was away.

  The home was lavishly decorated for an extravagant, traditional Christmas. With good reason. It was going be the first Christmas Indy’s father would be home since her mother had died five years ago. She wanted everything perfect for her father’s return from yet another lengthy, overseas mission. The faint sound of Christmas music echoed along the first floor to help maintain the holiday spirit for the decorating festivities. Liz leaned on the railing overlooking the foyer and drifted out while waiting for Indy to finish another stretch of railing.

  “I can’t believe he’s coming home next week,” Liz announced with an almost dreamy sigh while resting her chin on her fist. “I really miss that man.”

  Indy glanced at her father’s attractive girlfriend and hid her smile. She was almost certain her father would be very happy to see Liz as well. Indy would need to locate her noise canceling headphones, so she wouldn’t have to hear that joyful reunion during all hours of the night. The thought made her slightly nauseous, but she just wanted her father to be happy.

  “I hate when he’s gone this long,” Indy replied and attempted to conceal her concerns for his safety. “He’s always talking about retiring. I wish he’d just do it.”

  Liz straightened and grinned slyly. “Well, maybe I can help convince him.”

  The front door opened to reveal two men in their late twenties, Indy’s friend, Deputy Roman Shark, and Liz's brother, Kale. Roman was a baby-faced deputy with more of a charismatic appeal than actual good looks. Kale was more of the rugged, outdoorsy type, despite the fact that his chosen profession was a mortician. Liz and Kale inherited the funeral home only a few miles from the Stryker homestead. Their uncle died unexpectedly, leaving them the family business. If it hadn’t been for their relocation last year, Indy’s father never would have met Liz. The cheerful holiday mood was interrupted by the two men, who were arguing as they entered with a tangled ball of outside lights.

  “This wasn't my fault,” Roman announced.

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t mine,” Kale remarked. “I wasn’t even around last Christmas.”

  “Fine, blame the commander, if you dare.”

  The comment was enough to stop Kale just a few feet into the foyer. “From what I've heard about Indy's father, I don't want to upset him,” he suddenly announced.

  Indy and Liz exchanged humored looks then glanced over the railing at the two men in the foyer below.

  “What's the problem, boys?” Liz asked while cleverly raising her brow in question.

  Roman indicated the massive, tangled ball of lights. “A little tangle in the lights.”

  Indy wasn’t surprised. It had been five years since the lights had been used, and her father had carelessly torn them down the day after Christmas during a fit of rage. It was a long story. Indy doubted the lights would even work. Hopefully, between the two men, they would check that they were operational before going to the trouble of hanging them. A young, raven-haired woman the same age as Indy appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of eggnog served in festive glasses. Margo Langley had been Indy’s best friend from the time she started college five years ago. Although an attractive woman in her own rights, Margo projected a tough girl attitude. It was mostly an act to keep men at a distance. She had a bad breakup before Indy had met her and clearly wanted nothing to do with the entire male population.

  “Who's up for a little holiday cheer?” Margo announced with giddy enthusiasm.

  Judging by her excessive cheerfulness, she’d already sampled the eggnog several times to make sure it turned out correctly. Indy wasn’t ruling out her friend being drunk.

  “Is that Mrs. Stryker's recipe?” Roman eagerly asked, his eyes glued to the filled glasses.

  “Yes, it's Indy's mother's recipe.”

  Rom
an practically tossed the tangled lights into Kale’s arms and lunged for Margo holding the tray of eggnog. He grabbed a glass, sipped the thick milky contents, and groaned his delight.

  “Oh, yeah, that's the stuff. I haven't had any of this since--” Roman suddenly hesitated, smiled with embarrassment, and took another sip.

  Indy thought it was adorable how sensitive her friends were regarding her mother’s death, but it wasn’t necessary. She’d made her peace with her mother’s tragic accident a long time ago.

  “It's been five years since she died, Roman,” Indy informed him. “You can speak of my mother.”

  Despite her reassurances, Roman didn’t appear convinced and swiftly changed the topic.

  “I'm so glad you're having this party. It's been too long,” Roman announced then looked at Liz as she descended the stairs to retrieve her own glass of eggnog. “The Stryker Christmas parties were legendary. Half the town would show up.”

  “Don’t forget my father's team,” Indy announced cheerfully.

  Indy strayed into her own fantasy. It felt like an eternity since her father’s team was around for a lengthy visit. Everything seemed to fall apart after her mother’s car accident. It was as if Indy had been abandoned by her only family when she needed them most. Of course, she had been away at college most of that time, which probably had something to do with how alone she’d felt back then. Thankfully, that was around the time she’d met Margo. Roman had been a good friend, but he lacked that certain seriousness Indy desperately needed. Margo liked to refer to Roman as their comic relief. Although Indy had graduated college last year, her father’s team seemed to keep their distance. She couldn’t deny that she missed them. It was almost heartbreaking.

  “Can't forget about your father’s team. They're the best part,” Roman announced and jolted Indy back into reality. He released a throaty chuckle and seemed pleased. “It’s not a party without your friendly neighborhood Delta Force.”

  Indy gently cleared her throat and gave Roman a stern look. Roman hid his embarrassed smile.

  “Sorry,” he remarked timidly and corrected himself. “Operational Detachment Troop.”

  “You seriously don’t think anyone else knows they’re Delta--?” Liz began but Indy quickly silenced her.

  “Acht,” Indy reprimanded Liz.

  Liz seemed humored by Indy’s lecturing and motherly instincts regarding her father and his team.

  “I can't wait to get to know this unruly bunch,” Liz said while smiling fondly. “I barely got to meet them the last time they were around, though Flynn talked about them all the time.”

  “I'll admit, I'm a little intimidated at the thought of four men in Special Forces grilling me about my relationship with Indy,” Kale remarked.

  Indy cast a look at him but didn’t comment. She didn’t feel like getting into another debate with him about their non-existent relationship. Kale hadn’t met her father, despite his sister having dated Flynn for the five months prior to his last deployment. Although neither would admit it, Indy suspected Kale and Liz had some sort of falling-out when they first took over the funeral home. Liz was eager to move out the first chance she got.

  “The commander is rather impressive,” Margo informed Kale while holding back her grin.

  “He most certainly is,” Liz announced while smiling dreamily, unable to disguise her bedroom eyes. “I can’t wait until he gets home.”

  “I guess no one in this house is sleeping for a few nights,” Roman teased.

  Liz playfully smacked Roman’s arm.

  “My father hasn't been home for Christmas since my mother died,” Indy informed them then momentarily drifted into her own thoughts. She warded off her self-pity and returned to reality. “It was very painful for all of us. I think he’s been avoiding coming home for the holidays because of that.”

  “Losing your mother on Christmas Eve--” Roman began, realized he’s spoken aloud, and then immediately silenced.

  Margo swiftly changed the subject to something less traumatic. “So, tell me about these hardcore men of his, and why I’ve never met them,” she demanded.

  “That’s probably because you’ve only lived around here the last year since college graduation,” Indy reminded her. “My father’s team hasn’t been around much this past year. Even Liz only met them that one time.”

  “Remind me which one is the womanizer, so I can avoid him,” Margo remarked in a teasing tone, but Indy knew she was serious about avoiding him.

  Liz sat on the bottom step and grinned while holding her glass of eggnog. She placed her chin in her hand and gave the appearance of an innocent schoolchild about to be told a story.

  “Yes, tell us about Flynn’s team,” Liz announced. “I’d like to hear the real story on these guys. Flynn talks about them as if they’re his golfing buddies.”

  Roman laughed at the comment. It would be very hard to imagine any of them in preppy golf attire. Everyone settled in for story hour and gave Indy their undivided attention. Like her father, she always told good stories. Unlike her father, she didn’t embellish for the sake of drama. Despite telling everyone it was okay to discuss her mother, Indy was grateful for the change of subject. She didn’t need thoughts of her mother’s death overshadowing the happy occasion of her father’s return after his five-month hiatus. Besides, she loved talking about the men in his team. They were her family since she was a little girl and a major part of her life growing up.

  Chapter Two

  The remote island, located several miles off the coast of Ecuador, was home to a massive compound with a small army protecting its infamous leader. Santiago Perez, self-proclaimed president of the island, secured his legacy as a businessman and friend to locals. To United States intelligence agencies, he was a drug lord, mass murderer, and terrorist. Santiago’s compound was a hacienda style castle with two watchtowers, gatehouse, and tall walls meant to keep unwanted visitors out. Unfortunately, for Santiago, his unwanted visitors were already within the confines of his castle compound. The heavily armed, well-lit compound was alive with activity as men on walls fired shots into the acre-sized enclosure within the castle walls. Some appeared to be firing blindly, which wasn’t surprising, since the elite team of Delta Force’s combat squadron had them nearly shooting themselves.

  An imposing, bald man in his mid-forties, Flynn Stryker, fired his assault rifle at the armed guards shooting in his general direction. He clenched a cigar between his teeth and had a hardened look on his face as he took out two guards before they even realized where the shooting originated.

  “You've already met my father, the commander--” Indy began her narrative in a tone conveying childlike fascination. “My father is tough but compassionate. He'd do just about anything to help someone in trouble.”

  An armed guard came around the corner behind Flynn. Flynn caught a glimpse of the guard. He tossed himself to the ground, rolled into a sitting position, and threw a knife into the man's throat. The guard collapsed, barely having time to clutch his bleeding neck as he fell to the ground.

  “Then there's Nate Dax,” Indy continued. “He's a big, teddy bear.”

  A large, massively muscular man, Nate Dax, held a dead guard against him as a human shield while firing at several guards. The dead guard took the brunt of the gunfire, his body jerking and jolting to the hefty gunfire.

  “He just puts on a tough act. He's actually very sweet.”

  Once Nate had taken out the last of the guards firing at him, he casually tossed the blood-soaked, bullet-ridden man aside like a rag doll. The firing appeared to cease, finally ending the short-lived battle, although more men would soon be on their way.

  “Then there's Jackson North. You're going to love him,” Indy announced. “He's the sensitive, stylish one.”

  A lanky, athletically built man, Jackson North, shoved a tied man with a black hood over his head to the ground near Flynn’s feet. Jackson smiled charmingly and knocked the bound man over with his booted foot.

/>   “Look who decided to join us,” Jackson announced a little too proudly.

  Flynn eyed the tied man on the ground and almost appeared surprised. “And he's in one piece,” he remarked then grinned at Jackson. “I'm impressed.”

  “Don't be,” Jackson retorted. “He won't be having children any time in the near future.”

  Flynn chuckled softly.

  “Jackson is very charming and quite the ladies’ man,” Indy announced. “Women find him irresistible.”

  “He's probably going to think twice before jerking off as well,” Jackson teased.

  Nate glared at the lanky man and sneered his distaste for him. “What do women see in you?”

  He immediately appeared offended while staring at his comrade. “I have a lovable personality.”

  “Speaking of lovable--” Flynn announced and looked around with great interest. “Where's our resident firebug?”

  “He's finishing his shock and awe for our escape,” Nate informed Flynn. “That boy enjoys his work a little too much.”

  “And then there's Harlan Temple, the warmest, sweetest man I know,” Indy continued. “He's like an uncle to me.”

  Two guards appeared through a hidden doorway with their assault rifles aimed and ready for their attack on Flynn and his team. A man in his mid-thirties, Harlan Temple, appeared in the doorway behind the armed guards. He punched and kicked them in the knees and the face with amazing karate skills. He stabbed the first man in the throat, kicked the second in the abdomen, and pulled the knife from the first guard as he fell. Harlan flipped the knife through the air, kicked the second man again, caught the knife on its descent, and stabbed the second guard in the neck. He casually joined his team as if nothing had happened and smiled cheerfully.

  “Did you see the roses in that garden back there?” Harlan asked while giving a general nod behind him and removed a delicate red rose from his pocket. He twirled and studied it reflectively. “Now that is beautiful.”