Eight Years: A Novel (Trident Trilogy: Book One)

by Donna Schwartze

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” An armed guard approached the car.

  Mack had trained her on firearms since she was a little kid. She had become an accomplished shooter, but she was still uncomfortable seeing someone wearing a gun. It reminded her of her dad armed and fighting somewhere in the world. It always sent chills down her spine thinking about the what if. . .

  “Ma’am? Are you all right?” The guard leaned farther down in her window.

  “I’m here to see my dad,” she said uncertainly. “His name is Mack Marsh. He’s a SEAL.”

  Millie didn’t even know if this was where he worked when he was home.

  “What’s your name?” The guard took his eyes off her to look at his clearance list.

  “Millie—Millie Marsh—but he doesn’t know I’m coming.” She started to feel as stupid as she thought she probably sounded.

  “Ma’am, we don’t allow unscheduled visits from civilians.” He stopped suddenly when he saw her big eyes looking up at him. He sighed. “Pull up over by the orange cones. Turn off your car, and wait there.”

  He shook his head as she smiled at him. That girl has never been told no in her life by any man, he thought as he watched her long, blonde hair blow gently as she drove to where he told her to park.

  Millie was jolted out of her thoughts when she heard a jeep screech to a halt by the side of her car. She saw Mack jump out and sprint to the driver’s side of her car. He yanked open the door.

  “Millie! What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” When she saw how worried his face was, she burst into tears, suddenly ashamed that she had bothered him here.

  Mack pulled her to a standing position and hugged her, instinctively looking her over to see if she was injured. “Millie, sweetie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  He pulled her back a little bit so he could look at her face, the tears still flowing down.

  “I’m an idiot,” she said. He could barely understand her through the sobs.

  “You’re a what? Millie, what is happening?”

  “I’m an idiot,” she said, her voice shaking. “I had a fight with Camille, and I got in my car to take a drive to clear my head, and all of a sudden I ended up here. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  She started to cry again. “Millie, sweetie, you are never bothering me.” Mack kissed her lightly on the top of the head.

  “I know you’re working. This was a stupid idea,” she said.

  “I do have to go back to work in a bit, but I have like an hour. Are you hungry? We could go get something to eat.”

  She shook her head no against his chest, her mass of curls bobbing. “Okay, then let’s just go over to the visitors’ area, and we can talk a little bit. Okay? C’mon, you can ride in a jeep.”

  Mack whistled to the guard, pointing at the VW. “Okay, if she leaves this here for an hour?” He barely waited for the reply. He knew no one ever said no to the operators on the base.

  “Yeah, all good. I’ll keep my eye on it.” The guard quickly moved his eyes from Millie to the VW when he saw the way Mack was looking at him.

  Mack watched Millie crawl into the jeep. Her cutoffs were barely covering what desperately needed to be covered.

  She looked up at him. “What?”

  He shook his head and sighed. He drove over to the picnic tables by the visitors’ lot. “You thirsty?” he asked as she climbed up to sit on one of the tables. She nodded.

  “I’m going to go inside and grab us a few bottles of water. Wait here,” he ordered.

  “You know, I’d prefer a beer if you have any in there,” she said, smiling.

  He turned around, continuing to walk backward. “You’re not funny, Millie. Not even a little bit.”

  She smiled as she watched him disappear into the building. She’d felt like a complete idiot a couple minutes before, and now she felt happier than she had in days. He always made her feel that way.

  “Ma’am, you lost?” Millie turned around to see a beautiful man approaching her. She definitely had never seen anyone like this at her high school. He was sweating, like he had just gotten done working out. His T-shirt was tucked into the band of his shorts. Holy crap, she thought, as her eyes drank in the rippling muscles of his tattoo-covered chest. She didn’t seem to have use of her voice at the moment.

  He smiled, clearly used to the effect he had on women. “My name’s Mason. What’s your name?”

  She took his extended hand. “Umm,” she said, trying to remember what he had asked her, “Millie, and umm no, I’m not lost. I’m waiting for my dad.”

  He smiled and put his foot on the bench next to her, so he was almost touching her. “Oh, is your dad navy? What’s his name?”

  Millie stared at the tiger tattoo on his chest, trying desperately to remember her dad’s name. “Umm, his name is Mack Marsh.”

  Mason quickly pulled his leg down and backed up two steps. “Mack Marsh is your dad?”

  “Yes, Mack Marsh is her dad.” Mack had come out of the side door to see one of their new recruits talking to his daughter, and he wasn’t pleased.

  “Mack, I just met your daughter,” Mason said a little too loudly as he stumbled farther back away from her.

  “You mean my sixteen-year-old daughter?” Mack said, glaring at Mason.

  “She’s sixteen?” Mason realized he’d made a mistake by looking back at Millie. “Look at the time,” he said as he pointed to his bare wrist, walking away quickly.

  Millie watched him walk away until Mack grabbed her jaw and pushed it in his direction.

  “Millie,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “He is a SEAL. You will never date a SEAL. Never. Do you understand me?”

  “What’s wrong with SEALs? You’re a SEAL.” She tried to steal another glance at Mason as she turned to toss the bottle cap into the trash can.

  “Because I’m a SEAL, I know what horrible boyfriends and husbands we make,” he said, trying to regain her focus. “And, besides, you’re too young to think about that. Shouldn’t you still be playing with dolls?”

  “I never played with dolls. You’ve had weapons in my hands since I was five.”

  “I stand by that decision.” Especially with the way I just saw that rook staring at you, he thought.

  “Maybe I’ll be the first female SEAL,” she said. “I mean, isn’t that why you taught me all that stuff—the weapons, self-defense? My school counselor said I could write my ticket in the military.”

  “No, Millie, you’re meant for something else. You don’t want to spend your life like this. You’re a butterfly. You need to be free.”

  “A combat-ready butterfly,” she said.

  “Nothing wrong with that. Even butterflies need to know how to kill unwanted suitors.”

  “I think killing them might be a slight overreaction,” she said.

  Mack shrugged, not convinced. Millie laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. All she wanted was for the next couple months to speed by, so she could move in with him, and just be his daughter.

  “Mack.” Millie looked up to see a man in uniform standing behind them.

  “Hey, Chase,” Mack said. “This is my daughter, Millie.”

  “Oh, wow. Hey, Millie. The last time I saw you, you were still a baby. How old are you now?”

  “Sixteen. Almost seventeen.”

  “Sixteen. She’s sixteen,” Mack said.

  “Well, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Mack talks about you non-stop.”

  Millie smiled. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “Mack, we’ve got a meeting. I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’ve got to be in there.”

  “I know. I’ll be there in a minute,” Mack said.

  “Nice to meet you, Millie,” Chase said as he walked back toward the building.

  “Nice to meet you, t
oo!”

  “Sweetie, I’ve got to go back to work, but I’ll be down there this weekend to pick you up. Okay?” Mack said as he helped Millie into the jeep.

  They drove in silence back to her car.

  Mack hugged Millie tightly. “Drive safely back home, and text me when you get there.”

  Millie nodded her head and gave him one last squeeze. “I love you, Daddy. More than anything in the world.”

  He kissed her on the head. “We’ll be together soon, Millie. Only two more months.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Millie

  Washington, D.C.

  2019

  After Mason left this morning, I knew what I had to do. I packed up and left Virginia Beach for good. If I was going to finish what I started, I couldn’t have any more distractions and Mason had become a huge distraction.

  My boss agreed to send me back over to Bosnia so I could focus only on finding Yusef Hadzic. His father had given me a little to go on, so I’ll start there and stay in Bosnia for as long as they let me. I’m set to fly out tomorrow with just enough time to tie up some loose ends, which unfortunately includes the dinner I promised Drew. I’m dreading it, but if it has to happen to finally end our relationship, then it’s going to happen before I leave.

  Drew is waiting for me outside the restaurant when my car pulls up. Surprisingly, he’s smiling. He hugs me and puts his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, you look good. Our table should be ready,” he says, guiding me towards the door.

  I think for a second about just ending it with him on the street and getting back into my car and heading home, but he has a firm grip on my shoulders, and I let him guide me into the restaurant. The minute we walk in, I sense Mason in the room. I can feel his eyes on me, hear his breathing, smell his scent. My eyes dart around the room to find him. I don’t see him, but I know he’s here surveilling me from some remote corner of the room.

  “Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost,” Drew says. He grabs my arm and pulls me after the maître d who leads us to our table.

  As we walk through the dining room, I suddenly realize what it must be like to have a rifle leveled at you. That little target light right on your chest, following you everywhere you move. Mason is definitely here, and he’s tracking me.

  Drew is done ordering the wine. I try to act normal and focus on the business at hand. But I find it hard to even have small talk. I excuse myself to use the restroom. I head that way, but make a quick move to the patio door where I’m out of Drew’s sight. I get outside, weave through the patio tables, and walk around a wall until I’m completely out of sight of the restaurant. I’ve barely stopped when I can feel Mason behind me.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask without turning around.

  “You know what I’m doing here,” he growls.

  “You can’t be here, Mason. I’m with my boyfriend.” I don’t tell him I’m here to break up with Drew. I want him to think we’re still together. I want him to leave.

  He puts his hands on my shoulders. I try to shake them off with no luck. He pulls me back toward him while he turns me to face him. He’s positioned me about five inches from his body, his hands still holding my shoulders firmly. I don’t want to look up. I just stare at his chest. He’s breathing hard. I’m watch his chest rise and fall, transfixed by it.

  “Why did you leave?” His voice is gruff and edgy.

  I try to shake off his hands again, and this time he lets me. I take a step back and look up at him. “I had to get back to D.C. This is where I live.”

  “You haven’t answered any of my calls.” He leans back on the wall so we’re almost face-to-face. He tries to grab my hand, but I jerk it away from him.

  “I’ve been busy, Mason,” I say as I take another step back.

  “So, the other night, that morning, it just didn’t happen?”

  I don’t reply.

  “Millie, look at me. Just look at me for a second, please.”

  I steel myself and look up. “Mason, you’ve got to leave. I’m sorry. It’s just too complicated. Please, just go.”

  “I’m not leaving until you talk to me. Until you tell me why.” He steps forward quickly, grabs me, and spins me around. His arms and legs both surround me as he presses me against the wall.

  “Mason, don’t. . .” My voice barely registers the protest as he starts kissing my neck. My arms instinctively start to climb up his chest.

  “I’m here with my boyfriend.” My voice keeps trying to protest while my body keeps betraying it.

  “But, where do you want to be?” His lips have moved to my face. They’re gently moving over my forehead, my cheeks, my nose.

  My body melts into him, a small moan escaping from my lips just as his lips find them. God, the way he was kissing me. Hungry. Aggressive. Not asking for permission. It was every cocky thing I hate in a man. Every man except him. My mind finally re-engages. I try to push his chest away. It doesn’t move. I try to work my way out of his hold, but his arms propel me back to the center like a boxer bouncing off the ropes.

  I look up, my eyes pleading. “Mason, please. Please let me go.”

  He lets me go immediately and steps back, his hands up like he’s showing he’s not going to hurt me. I turn quickly to go back into the restaurant and see Drew standing there, staring at us.

  “Drew,” I say quickly. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “Well, it looked like you were making out with Mountain Man Jack over there,” he says flippantly. “Is that what was happening, or am I seeing things?”

  Mason takes a step toward him. I slam my arm into his chest. “Don’t, Mason. Walk away. I’m not even playing with you now. Walk away.”

  Mason strokes his beard as he thinks but then shockingly, turns around and walks toward the parking lot without saying anything.

  “Who is he?” Drew demands.

  “He’s a guy I met when I was traveling. It’s not what you think.”

  “Are you having an affair with him? Are you in love with him?”

  “No, Drew, I barely know him. I just met him a few weeks ago.”

  “Well, you’re awfully friendly with him for someone you just met,” he says.

  “Look, Drew, this isn’t about him. It’s about me and you, and our relationship. And, I’m sorry, but it’s not working for me anymore. It’s over. I don’t see much of a point of having dinner tonight. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, it’s definitely over, Millie. I can’t believe you would do this to me after two years, but maybe I didn’t really even know who you were,” he says, walking away.

  Huge understatement. Just the biggest understatement ever.

  “I’m really sorry, Drew. I am,” I call after him, but he’s already gone.

  I need to clear my head a bit, so I decide to walk the mile back to my apartment. Sadly, I don’t spend even a second thinking about Drew. My head is full of Mason. As I turn the corner on to my street, I’m not even surprised when I see his truck pulling up behind me.

  He rolls down his window. “You think it’s a good idea to walk alone in D.C. at night?”

  “I’m pretty positive I had a security detail trailing me most of the way.” I keep walking to my flat. I hear him parking behind me. I increase my pace.

  As I get to the stoop, he’s already behind me. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say. “I just broke up with him.”

  “That was quick,” he says, smiling.

  “I’m very efficient.” I walk past him up to my door. He turns on his heels to follow me up the steps.

  As I try to unlock the door, he puts his hand over mine to stop me from turning the key. “Millie, if you want me to leave, I will drive away right now. I would never force this, force you, but I just want to know why. Please. There’s someth
ing you’re not telling me. It’s not the boyfriend, it’s not our work schedules. Just tell me why you don’t want to be with me, and I’ll leave.”

  I want to tell him so badly. Tell him everything that I overheard Chase saying, everything that Amar Petrovic told me when we were alone, everything that I know I have to do. I’ve had so many chances, so many times I could have told him, but none more perfect than right now. Just tell him. Tell him, and let him help you figure it out. For once, trust someone to have your back. But, I can’t. My mind won’t let my voice speak. So, instead, I reach up and put my hands on his chest, sliding them up around his neck. He kisses me again instantly. And, I let him. My mind has stopped resisting.

  He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He turns the keys in the lock and opens the door, still kissing me hungrily. He slams the door and presses my body up against it. My dress is somewhere up around my chest by this time. His fingers have already found their way down my body, under my dress. They don’t even pretend to linger. They go straight inside. One finger. Then two.

  God, his hands are huge, and warm, and moving inside me. His fingers push hard against my G-spot. Direct hit. The first moan leaves my lips loudly. He knows he has me then. He’s in complete control. My body is his.

  My mind is spinning in ecstasy when all of sudden, he’s inside me. The feeling of him entering me hard, filling me up, makes me straighten up a bit out of surprise. I hadn’t even noticed him unzipping. As I straighten up, he pulls me down further on him, pushing him even deeper inside of me.

  He’s pounding my body against the door so loudly that I know my neighbors can hear us. But, I have no power to stop this. I let out a series of sounds I’ve never even heard before and shudder violently, moaning one last time, longer, softer. My body goes limp against him. He pulls me closer and pushes into me hard one last time. I feel his body shudder. He makes a guttural sound as he comes inside of me.