Capturing Sosimo

by Sara Blackard

  Capturing Sosimo

  A Clean Romantic Suspense

  Sara Blackard

  Copyright © 2020 Sara Blackard

  For more information on this book and the author visit: https://www.sarablackard.com

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  Editor Raneé S. Clark with Sweetly Us Press.

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  Cover Designed by MethodMike.

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  Author photo by Michele Flagen https://micheleflagenphotography.pixieset.com

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  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Want to know how it all began? Find out what propelled Zeke and the team to create the Stryker Security Force by signing up for Sara Blackard’s newsletter, and you’ll receive Mission Out of Control, the Stryker Security Force prequel for FREE.

  www.sarablackard.com

  To all my Advanced Readers,

  You all make my books the best they can be.

  Thanks for being an awesome and supportive team.

  I couldn’t do this without you!

  One

  June Paxton crossed her suite, chewing on her thumbnail. She liked the apartment-style room at the St. Regis Hotel in Aspen, Colorado. It afforded her the space to walk off her nerves. She spun and marched toward the window, wishing she could go hiking in the jagged mountains instead of talking on the phone with her father.

  “Junebug, are you listening to me?” Her father’s commanding voice brought her back to attention.

  She sighed. “Yes, sir. I’m listening, but I don’t think I need to worry like you’re saying.” She spun back the other way toward the table where her computer sat. She had a million things to do before the charity event in two days and listening to her father harp on her wasn’t on her to-do list.

  “This is serious, little girl. If you don’t take the precautions necessary, I’ll come out there and guard you myself.” His voice had taken on that tone that one didn’t argue with.

  June rolled her eyes. Being the daughter of General Daniel Paxton came with a lot of orders and commands. While she loved her father and knew that he tried to do what he thought best for her, she also figured with her being thirty-one years old and having made a fortune on her own, she didn’t need him taking command of her life anymore. If he came to the event, then everyone would know that Reagan MacArthur—entrepreneur, philanthropist, inventor, and the person she’d made up—was actually June Paxton, the general’s daughter. She had lived under that shadow long enough. She didn’t want it to darken her path now.

  “Dad, I already told you, I’ve hired security. You have nothing to worry about.” She clicked her computer on, pulling up her emails as she tried to figure out a way to close this conversation.

  “True, you hired security for the event, but you didn’t hire any security for yourself. Adam told me about the emails you’re getting. That’s not something that you should take lightly.”

  June gritted her teeth and wished that she hadn’t called Colonel Adam Johnson, her contact from the Soldier Enhancement Program, or SEP, to tell him she needed to meet with the board earlier than planned due to persistent emails from an unknown entity. She shook her head at her idiotic mental slip. She should have known that he would tell her father. Adam and the general were wonderful friends, after all.

  “June, are you listening to me?”

  “Yes, Dad, I’m listening.”

  “Good. I’m sending you the number of a security firm there in Glenwood Springs. These are guys I trust implicitly. Call them. That’s an order. I don’t want to step in, but if you don’t have them come to be your personal guards, I will.” Her father sighed on the other end, and her face turned hot with the command. “I still can’t believe that you’re holding a poker tournament. Do you have to continue to throw everything we taught you aside? I thought I made it clear that there were other ways to make money than that.”

  June squeezed her eyes shut at another way that she had disappointed her father. When she’d come up with a poker tournament based on the movie Maverick for the charity event, she’d thought she’d struck gold. In fact, all the slots for players had filled up within a week, with many prominent conservative Christians being the first on the list. She knew people varied in what they thought was right and wrong. She just wished her father would understand where she was coming from. That they could disagree on issues but still respect one another. Instead, he just continued his form of religious conversion—commands and outright disappointment.

  “Dad, we’ve talked about this before. I don’t have to agree with everything you believe. And besides, this den of evil that you’re so proud to preach against has raised over twenty-five million dollars for the soldier fund. And with guests like the Christian guys from Duck Dynasty being one of the first to sign up, I don’t think I’m throwing my chips in with the devil over this.”

  “I just wish you weren’t so bent on breaking your mother’s heart.” The general’s words sent shards of pain through June’s chest.

  No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to add up to what her father expected of her. Her mother supported her quietly in everything she did, while her father seemed bent on finding fault in everything.

  “I’m sure she’ll get over it. Listen, I gotta go. Send the information, and I’ll call your hound dogs. Love you. Bye.” June hung up the phone before her father could answer, knowing the action proved childish and rude.

  She tossed her phone onto the table, pushed her laptop back, and rested her head down on her arms. Just great. On top of all the stress of the upcoming event, she now felt guilty for the way she had talked to her father. Ugh, why couldn’t he at least consider that though she didn’t believe every little thing he did, she still was a Christian? She loved and followed Jesus but didn’t see the world in black and white like her father did.

  She sniffed and rubbed her nose on the back of her hand to relieve the sting in her eyes. Since her brother’s death at sixteen, her father’s residual fear strangled her with his overprotectiveness. If that hadn’t been enough of a reason, being General Paxton's daughter added a whole extra level of control to her life.

  Her phone beeped with a text at the same time that her computer pinged, alerting her to a new email message. She grabbed her phone. The brief text made her eyes water.

  DAD: Sorry, Junebug. Love you.

  He’d attached the contact information for Stryker Security to the text. She sighed. They both loved each other, and since she didn't want to let him down more than she already had, she would give the guard dogs a call. She typed him a quick message, apologizing and promising to call Stryker.

  She glanced at her computer, and her heartbeat picked up. Another email had come in from the company hounding her about wanting to purchase her latest invention. Most people would be thrilled with the amount of money they were offering her. At first she’d been ecstatic. However, when she had researched the company and had come up with little information, her warning bells had rung at DEFCON 1 levels.

  At first the emails had been professional, but each time she turned them down, the tone had changed a little. When she’d stopped answering them all together, they’d escalated to vaguely veiled threats. She had called Adam to move up her presentation, figuring the sooner she got the design, patent, and contract to the government, the sooner she could tell this mystery company the design no longer belonged to her. She clicked the new email open and read:

  From: WPA Investments, Inc.

  Date: October 22

  We will get
your design one way or another. Let’s proceed the easy way, Miss MacArthur.

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  June stood with force from the table, toppling her chair to the floor. Pacing to the window, she worried her thumbnail between her teeth again when she ran the words of the email through her mind. Her heart raced in her throat as she peered at the mountains for comfort. When none came, she marched back to the table and snatched up her phone. She and her father might not see eye to eye on everything, but she conceded that his thoughts on this might be right. She tapped on the contact information and, with a scowl, touched the circle phone icon under the Stryker Security business name. Like it or not, it looked like she needed to hire herself a shadow.

  Sosimo Rivas turned the wrench a last twist as he finished working on Samantha Jones’s car. He excelled in this kind of work, using his hands and brute force to fix things that were broken. Pulling items destined for the junk heap back to life. He laughed, shaking his head at himself. Fixing cars that belonged in a junkyard was not as poetic as all that. It was a job that needed done and just about the only one he could do well. It was what had made him valuable to his team during his enlistment in the Army as a member of a highly classified Special Ops unit.

  “What are we gonna do now?” Evangeline Jones’s cute four-year-old face smiled over at him from where she leaned into the engine.

  Sosimo chuckled as her forehead furrowed, a grease mark smeared across it. She had more grease covering her freckles on her dark cheeks, and her hands were filthy. Good thing Sam wasn’t one of those fussy moms, otherwise he might be in trouble.

  He enjoyed having a kid around, something he’d forgotten the last ten years in the Army. Being the middle child of a family of ten kids, there’d always been littler kids around. He’d loved growing up in a chaotic house, even if his brainy siblings had teased him as a gearhead.

  “Now, mi buburjita, we see how well we fixed it.” He picked her up by the waist and swung around in a wide arc, her fabric fairy wings flapping in the wind, and set her on the ground. Slamming the hood, he grabbed her hand and circled the car to the driver’s side.

  “Hop on in and turn the key.”

  Eva’s blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, an enormous smile pushing her freckled cheeks up into the most adorable look. “I get to start it?”

  “Sí, start it up. Póngalo en marcha.”

  Sosimo had spoken Spanish to Eva since the day she got there. Like any child, she took to it quick, like lightning. How could he be away from his Venezuelan roots for ten years, but the importance of teaching his language to the next generation still burn strong? Would he ever have kids of his own to pass the tradition down to?

  Eva climbed onto the ratty seat and pointed to the key in the ignition.

  Sosimo nodded his head. “Okay, sweetie, turn the key, and we’ll see if we fixed this old car of your mama’s.”

  Eva reached for the key, her face turning serious as she bit her lower lip. The engine roared to life, and she jumped. She laughed, clapping loudly before tossing herself into his arms.

  “We did it.” Eva squealing in his ear had him wincing. “Lo logramos.”

  “Sí, buburjita. We did it. Gracias por ayudarme. You’re a good helper.” He gave her another hug.

  Pride shone in her bright blue eyes.

  “Sosimo, man, you steal my fairy princess?” Rafe came into the garage, his arms crossed in mock anger.

  Eva giggled and laid her head on Sosimo’s shoulder.

  “You’re wrong, Rafe. She’s not your fairy princess. She’s my little mechanic.” He patted her back as she tightened her hug.

  “I helped Sosi fix Mama’s car. He even let me start it,” Eva said to Rafe before turning a blinding smile on him. “I’ve never, ever gotten to do something as important as that before.”

  Rafe rubbed the grease spot on her cheek. “My fair Eva, you didn’t tell me you were a mechanic fairy princess. You keep getting more special every day.” He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find Tina. Sosi and I have to go do boring work.”

  “Hasta luego, buburjita. Thanks again for helping.” Sosimo waved as Rafe took her up the stairs to her apartment above the garage.

  Eva yawned as she looked over Rafe’s shoulder back to Sosimo. “Hasta luego, Tio. I love you.”

  Man, she killed him with her cuteness. “También te amo.”

  She smiled big as her blue eyes drifted shut. He turned back to the car to put the tools away, rubbing his hand across his heart. If he didn’t think Zeke was firmly on his way to falling in love with Eva’s mother, Sam, she and Eva might tempt him to see if something more than friendship could develop. The combination of a beautiful woman, who had struggled through life and survived, and a precious daughter had all his family instincts flaring to life. But with it being apparent to everyone but Zeke from the day Sam and Eva moved out here that something smoldered between those two, Sos hadn’t even considered Sam as an option.

  However, having Sam and Eva around had Sosimo thinking maybe he should get serious about chasing down a wife. His stomach twisted with the thought. He hated dating, hated the false front people put up to impress one another. Hated finding later that the person wasn’t who he’d been thinking all along. He’d been told enough lies growing up that the thought of them left a bitter taste in his mouth. Lies from his parents about how smart he was. Lies from his teachers that he’d never amount to anything. Lies from ex-girlfriends that only wanted the status of hooking up with a soldier. He slammed the wrench onto its hook on the organized wall. On second thought, he did all right on his own. No need to put up with false pretenses if he didn’t have to.

  “Man, she is one cute kid.” Rafe stomped down the stairs, running his hand over his perfect hair. He paused, his foot stopping in midair as he glanced at the wall Sosimo hung the tools on, then continued down the stairs. “Dude, you outlined the tools?”

  Sos crossed his arms and glared. “Yes. I’m sick of you guys coming in here, stealing my tools, then tossing them on the closest flat surface. Every time I come in here to work on something, my stuff is never where it’s supposed to be.”

  “Okay, okay. Geesh, you’re crankier than a four-year-old.” Rafe grabbed a socket wrench from Sosimo’s work table, flipping it in the air and catching it. “So, you’ll probably hate when I take off with this.” Rafe dashed out of the garage and across to the main house at a dead run. “Meeting in five,” he hollered over his shoulder.

  Sosimo dropped his chin to his chest and shook it. Rafe ran the fastest out of all of them, and he knew it. Chasing after him would only give in to Rafe’s infantile nature. Sosimo put away the rest of the tools, washed the dirt and grease off of himself, and headed into the house.

  He thanked God every day that he got to be a part of this mishmash family. When he got out of the Army, he hadn’t known what he would do. He had spent the last ten years of his life protecting the nation in whatever way needed. While he probably could’ve opened an auto shop back in Florida where his parents lived, he’d find no genuine enjoyment from making a living that way. So when the chance to be part of Stryker Security Force came up, he’d grasped the opportunity tight with both hands. He’d never be as smart as Rafe or a skilled leader like Zeke. Never had been. Yet, he had been keeping people safe since middle school.

  Sosimo stomped into the main house and glared at Rafe, who lounged on the couch with a smug look on his face. Sosimo rolled his eyes and crossed to the kitchen. The guys gathered around the table, and the TV showed stats of their next mission.

  “So, are you going to tell me where you hid it?” Sosimo grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

  Rafe shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Just be careful or I might decide I want to take up computer programming.” Sos took a deep drink of his water, staring Rafe down across the room.

  “You wouldn't dare.” Rafe's eyelids closed to a slit.

  “Maybe.” Sosimo mo
ved into the living room with a smirk and took the empty seat. “Maybe not.”

  Rafe opened his mouth to say something only to have Zeke cut him off. “All right, pay attention. Our client is Reagan MacArthur, a philanthropist who is heading up a charity event this weekend up in Aspen.”

  Zeke pushed the button on his remote, and a picture popped up onto the screen of a woman with a hesitant smile and ginger hair cascading down her shoulders. Something about the look on her face clenched Sosimo’s gut. The way she slightly pulled her lip between her teeth made her appear vulnerable. He hoped she wouldn’t be as pretentious as some of their other clients.

  The only unpleasant thing about their new gig was the people they protected. They ranged in different backgrounds and attitudes, and he had noticed that they mostly just pretended their help didn’t exist. Not that it really bothered him too much, but the ones that really got him fired up were the ones constantly questioning their security measures, like they were the experts instead of his team. Sosimo hoped she didn't turn out to be like that, otherwise this weekend would be long on top of boring.

  “She’s been getting some threatening emails lately, and though she isn't fully convinced it's necessary, she’s been advised to take on personal security for this event.” Zeke clicked to the next slide.

  “It’s a charity event for Armed Forces?” Derrick leaned forward, and his voice rose.

  “Yes, she’s an enormous supporter of the military. She’s actually the one who invented the Eyes Beyond that we got about three or four years ago.” Zeke looked around at them.

  They all knew the tech he talked about, a gadget that let them peek through buildings and cars and registered heat signatures and incongruent shapes. It had saved their butts on many missions, giving them intel that would've left them otherwise vulnerable. In one mission, the scanner had registered an inconsistency in a vehicle parked along all the others. It had been an IED. Without that device, they wouldn’t have all made it home from that mission. If they would’ve had it on their worst mission with the Army, the one where they lost Ethan Stryker, the mission probably would have gone down differently. Sosimo shook the troubling memory away, but his summation of their new client increased tenfold. Maybe this weekend wouldn't be all bad.