by Elle Boon
Delta Redemption
SEAL TEAM PHANTOM
Book 6
By Elle Boon
[email protected]
© Copyright 2017 Elle Boon
All cover art and logos Valerie Tibbs of Tibbs Design ©
Copyright 2017 by Elle Boon
Edited By Tracy Roelle
All rights reserved.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Delta Redemption, SEAL Team Phantom 6
Copyright © 2017 Elle Boon
First E-book Publication: 2017
Cover design by Valerie Tibbs of Tibbs Design
Edited by Tracy Roelle
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Dedication
I’d like to give a big huge thank you to all my family and friends. Y’all have been such an amazing group who have kept me grounded through all the ups and downs. Without you, I’d have probably gone crazy this past year. Well, crazier anyhow.
Thank you to all who’ve read my stories and wanted more. I hope you enjoy Jase’s journey as it’s a doozy. I know that the road to a happily ever after isn’t always smooth and hope I gave y’all one hell of a ride with his story.
In this story you’re going to see some real issues people face. There are real life tragedies that many of us have had to deal with, and one of those I touch on in this story. Suicide affects many of us, and for me and my family, it hit home a little over six years ago. A beautiful young man, took his own life at the young age of nineteen.
They say suicide is the cowards’ way out, but all I know is that we are now left with a huge hole from the loss of our loved one. The statistics for suicide are crazy with 121 in every 100,000. I truly do believe in helping where we can, so if you know of someone who is suicidal, or if you are, please reach out to someone for help. There are people who care and would be there. With such a large number of suicides across our nation a day on average, the thought that a simple call or letter could help to prevent one, seems little in the grand scheme of things.
You can now talk to someone at the National Suicide Protection Helpline or even text. Here’s the link to their site if you know of anyone in need. https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
Love y’all so hard,
Elle
Other Books by Elle Boon
Erotic Ménage
Ravens of War
Selena’s Men
Two For Tamara
Jaklyn’s Saviors
Kira’s Warriors
Shifters Romance
Mystic Wolves
Accidentally Wolf & His Perfect Wolf
Jett’s Wild Wolf
Bronx’s Wicked Wolf
Paranormal Romance
SmokeJumpers
FireStarter
Berserker’s Rage
A SmokeJumpers Christmas
Mind Bender, Coming Soon
MC Shifters Erotic
Iron Wolves MC
Lyric’s Accidental Mate
Xan’s Feisty Mate
Kellen’s Tempting Mate
Slater’s Enchanted Mate
Dark Lovers
Bodhi’s Synful Mate
Turo’s Fated Mate
Contemporary Romance
Miami Nights
Miami Inferno
Rescuing Miami, Dallas Fire & Rescue
Standalone
Wild and Dirty, Wild Irish Series
SEAL Team Phantom Series
Delta Salvation
Delta Recon
Delta Rogue
Mission Saving Shayna, Omega Team
Protecting Teagan, Special Forces
Delta Redemption
Contents
Delta Redemption
Dedication
Other Books by Elle Boon
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
DARK EMBRACE
About Elle Boon
Other Books by Elle Boon
Chapter One
“It’s a shame to have lost him like that. He was a great man.”
Jase grunted as he shoveled dirt on another grave. Damn shame when you lose a loved one, but the only sympathy he felt was for the people left behind. Not the man himself. The sun beat down on him while he and Greg worked side-by-side, putting the final mound of dirt over another fresh grave. Greg, clearly a devoted employee of the cemetery, also was up on who was who in the town. “It’s a shame to lose a good soldier,” Jase said instead of agreeing. The older man leaned on the shovel, squinting at the gathering in the distance, nodding at Jase’s words.
The wig and prosthetics Jase wore itched, but he wanted to see the bastard being put in the ground; six feet under wasn’t deep enough to hide his sins.
His eyes strayed to the front row of mourners, stopping on the woman who’d held his heart longer than any other. Hell, she still held it. Wind whipped in from the north, making the hat her mother had on fly off. Brooke Frazee reached up, grabbing it before it could fly away. His first instinct was to go to her and offer his help, but he held it in check. Years as a SEAL and then the last two of being on the outside looking in, kept him in place, knowing anyone could be watching, waiting to take him out with a single, well-placed shot. Shit, he spent six months in a federal prison for crimes he didn’t commit. In that time, it only hardened him, making him into what he was today.
He turned away as the minister continued his sermon, extolling the virtues of the man who was deceased. Admiral Frazee, the man he’d once trusted, a man he’d looked up to and wanted to be like. Jase looked around the graveyard, a prickle of awareness had him searching the shadows. Jase had become good at hiding, blending into those dark areas where nobody could see. Hell, he was forced to become a shadow; a ghost, if his old team were to see him. At first it had burned like acid in his gut knowing that’s what they’d think if they were to see him, since they thought he was dead, or they’d want to kill him, either option wasn’t appealing.
His mind went back to the last day he’d been close enough to hug his brothers in arms. No, they were more than that. They were his family. He’d done everything to keep them safe and was still doing what he could, only they had no clue.
The main goal had been working to figure out who’d been infiltrating the US Government and selling top secret information on missions. He had been close when he’d discovered the Smirnov’s were not only alive and well but had a daughter. That female child was now a young woman who’d been placed in foster care and had been hard to track down, but with the help of his new partner Erik, they’d found her. Her parents had been spies, willing to trade their own lives to find her, and Jase, having the information they needed to reconnect with her, was on the verge of making that final discovery of who was the real mole in the governm
ent. He hadn’t counted on Kai Swift falling for their daughter, Alexa, and his old SEAL team being the one to protect not only her, but the Smirnov’s in the end.
Luckily for him, the bastards he’d been working undercover for at the time had a man who looked enough like him. The explosion Jase had set was one that ensured everything in its vicinity would be toast. He’d watched, timing it perfectly as his old SEAL team had arrived to see the other man in the vehicle. Everyone assumed it was Jase. With the level of heat and the amount of time the fire had burned before they’d been able to put it out, there was nothing left of the child rapist bastard for DNA analysis. Hell, he’d gone to Federal Prison for his country. What’s being blown up and buried and letting others think he was dead in the grand scheme of things?
*****
Brooke wiped a stray tear as she watched her mother adjust her hat. The men and women dressed in their white Navy uniforms stood out amongst the rest of the mourners, but they were remarkable to see. However, for her, she just wanted to go home and pretend this day was over. Once the chaplain finished speaking, the soldiers began removing the flag, holding it up and over the bright silver coffin. She flinched as the first shot rang out. The twenty-one gun salute, signaling the end to a life. For her father, his time on earth had ended, now the time for her…them, to go on without him would begin. The truth of that last bit hit her square in the chest, nearly doubling her over with the pain.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered.
Her mother squeezed her fingers tightly. “Sssh, we must be strong. We’re Frazee’s, girl.”
She was so sick of hearing that. Like the woman knew what it meant to be a real Frazee. Hell, she was a socialite who’d done nothing but bemoan the fact she was married to a military man. The only reason her mother was showing any remorse was because she was in public, and it was the right thing to do. Hello, it would be crass for her to not cry. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as her mother did the whole dab dab beneath her own eyes again as if she was truly shedding a tear for her deceased husband.
When the soldiers began folding the flag from her father’s coffin, she bit her lip so hard the taste of copper filled her mouth. The soldiers made their way to her and her mother, she knew they were going to present it to the widow, knew it was tradition, but Brooke also knew her mother would toss it into the closet, or even worse the trash when they got home.
Holding her arms out as they neared, she dared her mother to intervene. There was a moment of hesitation before the young man tasked with presenting the flag knelt down on one knee, his face shadowed with sadness. Emotion clogged her throat while he whispered words of condolences, words she was sure they said each time they had to present a flag. Hating herself for thinking so poorly when he was being so kind. “Thank you for doing this for him. He would have been honored,” her voice cracked on the last words.
He gave a brief nod of his head, the signal he was done she assumed, then her father’s flag was laid in her arms, its weight insignificant in the grand scheme of things. She pressed it to her chest, trying her damnedest to hold the grief inside. Her father, the man who’d taught her how to tie her shoes, to ride a bike, to hit a ball and to rebuild the 351 Windsor engine in her beloved 1974 Bricklin SV-1. Mark Frazee was more than just a soldier; he was her hero, beloved father. Now he was dead. Tears fell unheeded at all the things he’d never get to do with her, like walk her down the aisle, and teach her son how to play football. All the things he’d taught her to do. She looked up at the clear blue sky and made a silent promise to him and herself. She’d do everything for Jack that her dad did for her, everything his own father couldn’t do.
A funeral wasn’t the place for a little boy. Hell, a funeral wasn’t the place for anyone, but especially a little boy. Yet, looking over her shoulder she found her son sitting with her best friend and her husband, sleeping soundly. His dark hair reminded her of the one man she wished she could forget. Her one regret, but the one man who gave her her greatest love.
“That was truly uncalled for, but I guess you’re good at doing things like that,” her mother whispered.
Brooke met dark eyes with so much hate in them. “Maybe so, but we both know you don’t deserve this or want it. Don’t make a scene, mother,” Brooke said in a tone too low for anyone other than her mom to hear. God, she hated the woman who birthed her with a passion that reminded her…nope she wasn’t going there today.
Her father had been a career Navy man, going through the ranks from SEAL to Vice Admiral. She had no doubt he’d one day make it to the very top, except his best friend held that position. Her eyes shifted to the Chief of Naval Operations, her godfather. He made a striking figure in his Navy uniform. Even in his late fifties, he was handsome and clearly very fit with his salt and pepper hair. His dark blue eyes met hers. For a moment, Brooke thought she saw a hardened gleam in them as if he disliked her, but then, they softened as they always had.
She turned back to face the casket. God, this couldn’t be happening to her. She thought back to the day a week ago. How a call could rock the very foundation of her world seemed impossible, until they’d explained her father had been killed in a car accident, a fact that was hard to deny no matter how much she wished it wasn’t true. It still didn’t seem real. They’d had their customary weekly dinner the night before. In hindsight her father had been a little distracted, but like always, he’d brushed her questions aside and focused on her and Jack. Now, she wished she’d pushed him for more time, that’s what survivors do, wish for more. Supposedly, he’d driven into the lane of an oncoming diesel truck. Of course, it had been late and there were no witnesses. The truck driver had told the cops the car came out of nowhere without any lights. However, none of that explained why his car had exploded; the fire getting hotter than a normal one, destroying all but the metal of the vehicle. What they had to bury was literally ashes. The medical examiner believed her father hadn’t suffered before his death. That small bit of information was the only thing that gave her comfort.
“Lord, it’s hot,” her mother muttered.
Brooke shot the woman who birthed her a quelling glance. “I’m sure it wouldn’t look odd if you were to get up and go back to the limo. Everyone would assume you were too upset to continue sitting through the rest of the service.” To those looking in, her parents had a perfect relationship, but Brooke knew better. Her mother was a righteous bitch. She’d given Mark two children, and he gave her a life of luxury. The Frazee’s were not only wealthy but connected. Brooke could remember a time when their family was happy. When they were complete. Before her brother died. That day, her entire world was ripped in half, making her parents almost enemies. Her mother blamed her father and even Brooke to an extent. How an eleven year old could be blamed for her eighteen year old brother’s suicide, she had no clue. Grief did strange things to people.
Her father was wonderful and had been a good-looking man. Rumors swirled in their small community of infidelity on both sides. Brooke didn’t want to admit it now or then. Heck, at eleven the only thing she’d cared about was unicorns and rainbows.
“I think I’ll do just that. Do try to hurry…after,” Nancy Frazee said, getting to her feet.
The Chief of Naval Operations, her father’s best friend, stood up with grace. A look of concern on his face. They both nodded as he helped her mother make her way to the car.
Brooke fingered the folded flag in her lap, knowing where she’d put it in her home. A small sob escaped. One of the soldiers standing offered her a white cloth. God, these men were offering her more comfort than her mother. The empty chair next to her was a startling reminder that her life was forever going to have another huge hole.
Her grandmother reached across the chairs; her fingers squeezed gently. They’d lost their son too. Brooke brought the cloth to her eyes and wiped at the fresh tears. Her father had always said it was okay to cry if you had a reason. Well, today was a damn good reason.
Taking a deep b
reath, she straightened her spine. She would make her father proud. At twenty-four, she was a single mom to a great kid. She had a job she loved and friends. Yes, there was another hole in her heart and soul from this loss, but like before, she’d plug it and learn to move forward. One breath at a time. One step and then another until before too long, a year will have passed, and the pain won’t be so bad. God, she couldn’t wait until that day.
*****
Jase watched the emotions flash over Brooke’s beautiful features. She’d matured in the years since he’d seen her last. Fuck! The younger version of her had been a stunner at twenty-one, too young for his old ass of thirty. It was almost illegal the things he’d felt for her. It had been a losing battle to keep the feelings at bay for the daughter of the man who had been his idol. Even though the Admiral was the reason the Navy had called to him, from the moment he set eyes on Brooke Frazee, Jase forgot all about why she was off limits and why staying away was wise. When a visit to see the admiral for the first time in years brought him face to face with a gorgeous blonde in a bikini top and daisy dukes, he’d been shocked speechless. His mouth had dried up while his eyes had thankfully been hidden behind his sunglasses. ‘Love at first sight’ was a phrase that was used in movies and romance novels, but for him, what happened in that moment was something far different. Lust at first sight with a little more. She’d placed a small hand on her chest, right above one small, perfectly formed breast and smiled at him. Jase was sure the sun had shone down on her right then and there. For two years, he’d stayed away. Somebody give him a fucking medal, ‘cause sure as shit, if a man deserved one, it was him for being able to avoid contacting her.
He shook the memory away, focusing on the vision in front of him. She’d been having her eighteenth birthday party the first time he’d met her. Now, six years later, she was still the sexiest woman, even with grief etching her face.
