Pitbull (SEAL Team Alpha Book 10)

by Zoe Dawson

  She nodded, relieved Kid hadn’t killed the Cortez Brothers, not for their safety, but for what it would have done to their small family.

  Inside the chopper, Ruckus was telling Fast Lane how they had gotten word about Paige after coming off deployment. The whole team had flown down here. Scarecrow, Blue, Tank, and Hollywood were still at TOC. They could only get clearance for the four of them to fly in for exfil.

  “You a little nervous flying on another bird?” Pitbull asked as they started moving again.

  She smiled at him. “No. It’s time to go home.”

  17

  Pitbull entered the All In Bar and Grille and spied the team, including his LT, sitting at a table. This was the moment he had been dreading before he’d talked to Mak. It was time to come clean, time to be part of the solution instead of part of the problem. He loved these guys and hoped they could see past his sins.

  “Another over here,” Mad Max said as they shared a greeting. The waitress handed him a bottle from the bar, and he tossed it to Pitbull. He screwed off the top and took a swig.

  Dodger kicked out a chair and smiled. “Take a load off.”

  “Where you been, Dodge?”

  He glanced over at Fast Lane, who had an evil grin on his face as he said, “Peeling potatoes. What you up to now, Petty Officer Graham.”

  “Four hundred and fifty-five,” Dodger said. When Pitbull raised his brows, he added, “Sir.”

  Mad Max sniggered and ended up flat on his back when Dodger kicked the legs out from under his chair. There was a roar of laughter.

  When it calmed down, Pitbull finished off his beer and said, “I need to talk about something.”

  All eyes turned to him. He met each of them with his own gaze. He told them what happened with Helen, with Speed, and that Samantha was his daughter. It was dead silent around the table. The new guys were looking at each other, but Max gave him a supportive nod and it helped.

  “You crossed the line, mate,” Dodger said, his voice low and angry.

  “I know. It was wrong, but I thought she needed me.” He took a breath and said, “There’s more. I wondered if somehow I failed to have his back—”

  “Stop right there,” Fast Lane said, “or you and I are going to go a few rounds outside.” You can squash that guilt right here and right now.” He rose, his chair shooting away from the table. “That would never happen. Not by you, sailor. Are we clear?”

  Pitbull had respect for his CO, and when he looked at Fast Lane, he saw the same respect reflected back at him. He said, “Are we clear, Errol?”

  “We’re clear, sir.” He knew he shouldn’t have dreaded this, should have spoken up sooner. It was good to know Fast Lane and he were all right.

  “Shit happens in combat, and Speed, God rest his soul, made mistakes that day that cost him. Whether his head was in the game or he was distracted by something else, we’ll never know,” Fast Lane added. “But he was one of us and we owe him for that. He gave his life for this country.”

  Pitbull nodded.

  “For what it’s worth,” Saint said, “we—2-Stroke, Max, and I—have no doubts about you at all.”

  “That does mean a lot. Thanks, guys.”

  He looked over at Dodger. “We square, man?”

  Dodger passed him another beer and clinked the bottle with Pitbull’s. “We’re square and then some.”

  “So, 2-Stroke,” Pitbull asked, “Did you get your call name because two strokes is all you got in you?”

  Max, who was getting a couple more beers at the bar, gyrated his hips and the guys laughed.

  2-Stroke grinned and said, “It’s all that power in the motion.” More chuckles. Then he sobered. “It’s a motorcycle term,” he murmured. “It’s what we gearheads call a two-cycle engine that completes a power cycle with two strokes.”

  “Motorcycles in your blood, Neo?” Pitbull asked.

  “Yeah, my dad was in a gang. Not a fun way to grow up.”

  He clinked bottles with him and nodded. “You’ll have to tell us more about that, man.” With his eyes shining, 2-Stroke clinked back, nodding.

  The next day, Pitbull sat in front of Helen’s house. He’d gotten some sleep and rest after their jungle trek. Once they got back to command in Foz do Iguaçu, Mak was pulled away and they had no time to talk. He barely had enough time to wave goodbye to her as she left with Paige and Chris to see them settled in the hospital back in San Diego.

  He’d tried her number a couple of times, but he’d only received a short text that she was caught up with all the debriefings and paperwork from the op.

  Suddenly the door opened, and Helen ran out with Elise on her hip and Samantha’s hand in her grip. She rushed to the van and shoved the girls inside, buckling them in. Mark came out, and she shouted at him, her face crumpling, wet with tears.

  Damn. He started to get out of his truck, but Helen got into the driver’s seat and zoomed off. He rolled down his window.

  “Mark!” he shouted. “Get in!”

  Mark turned and ran toward his truck and jumped inside.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “We had an argument about moving, Samantha, and you. She’s irrational and stubborn. I was just trying to do the best for all of us. She’s so ashamed, and she’s letting that get in the way of…everything!”

  He sped after her. “I get it. Believe me,” he growled.

  He turned a corner and watched as she hit the main road, driving too fast. Then to his horror, the van swerved off the road and hit a tree.

  “Oh, my God!” Mark shouted. “Helen…if anything happens to those girls.”

  Pitbull pulled out his phone and threw it at Mark.

  “Helen…” Mark whispered, his voice hoarse.

  “Call 9-1-1,” Pitbull shouted as he pulled over, braking hard. He got out of the truck and raced to the crumpled van.

  Mak stood by Chris’s bed. He was recovering from the surgery he’d had two days ago. The bullet hadn’t done too much damage, and his doctor expected him to make a complete recovery. The swelling had receded some on his face, the mottled black and blue bruises stark against his pale skin.

  “You had to be a hero,” she murmured, adjusting the ice pack against his jaw.

  He smiled and winced. “I couldn’t let them hurt her.”

  “I know that’s true.”

  He sobered. “It got hairy there a couple of times. I thought they were going to kill us. But we managed to survive. Paige was…amazing.”

  Mak nodded. “Do you know that she’s giving up field work?”

  “She told me in that cell that there was nothing more important to her than her family. Do you know she raised those boys by herself? Her dad checked out when her mom left.”

  “Yes, Hemingway…Atticus told us when we caught him trying to find her.” She explained everything Hemingway had done to save his sister.

  “Wow. That kid sounds like he belongs in the SEALs. His sister said he has a contract to go to BUD/S. Is that still going to work out?”

  “I have no idea. Fast Lane…the CO on the op was fit to be tied when he found out, but as impressed as hell at his resourcefulness, calm demeanor under fire, and his leadership skills. Hopefully, it’ll stay under wraps that he was even in Brazil and Paraguay.”

  He nodded. “You should get out of here. You’ve been in meetings nonstop when you haven’t been at the hospital. You’ve got to be running on empty.”

  “I am, but I can’t get enough of seeing your ugly mug.” She pulled out the brand new wallet. “I got you something.”

  When he saw it, he took it from her and laughed softly. “Get out of here, and let me get some rest, you pest.”

  She hugged him and he hugged her back. As they separated, he said, “Something’s changed in you. You seem…different. Softer.”

  “I could still kick your ass.”

  “A three-year-old could kick my ass right now.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “True.” She took
a breath. “I am different. I met someone on that op who helped me see that my grief doesn’t have to define me. That I don’t have to hold myself apart from people. He is amazing, and I’m so grateful to have you and Kai to work with. I never said it, but I love you guys.”

  “We love you too.”

  She told him about her family and what happened, and he nodded, his eyes dark and supportive. He squeezed her hand.

  “We all have something in our pasts we regret.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, looking weary. “When I was a Navy pilot, I lost my wingman in an accident when we took off from an aircraft carrier for a general mission. I quit flying and the Navy because of it.” His voice broke. “I lost the only woman I’ve ever loved…and the only family I had. Rafael Soto was my best friend, and I not only bonded with him but his family as well. The woman was his sister, and she blames me, still, after six years.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded. “Scat, woman, and don’t come back today. Get some rest.”

  She left his room and walked the short distance to Paige’s. Inside she found Kid Chaos, her dad, her three brothers, and her cute little girl, Chloe.

  Paige was dressed and it was clear she was going home.

  “Wow, it’s crowded in here,” Mak said.

  “Oh, hi. Yeah, it’s a bit full.” She touched her father’s arm and said, “My dad. You know Atticus, and these are my other brothers Leo and Knox.” They all greeted her with deep voices, looking so very much like their dad. Paige must take after her mom. Chloe made loud, babbling noises as if she was protesting about being left out.

  For a moment, Mak’s heart stalled as she focused on Paige’s little girl, all the good memories of her daughter flooding her with joy, filling up her heart. Chloe reached out, and Mak took her into her arms and cradled her close.

  “Hello there, Chloe. You have a really great mom.” She pulled the locket out of her pocket, and Paige smiled as Chloe wrapped her small fist around the chain.

  Chloe babbled some more and Mak held her close and breathed a deep sigh of peace. She handed her back to her dad, and Kid extricated the locket and slipped it over Paige’s head.

  Mak took Hemingway’s arm.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure,” he said as Paige and the rest of the family left to check out at the nurses’ desk.

  “How did it go with Fast Lane?”

  Hemingway made a pained face. “He ripped me a new one, told me I disobeyed his direct order. Told me I was a smart-ass, tough son-of-a-bitch. Chewed me out some more. Yelled at Dodger and put him on KP duty, then told me that if I didn’t make it through BUD/S he was going to kick my ass all around San Diego. So…” Hemingway took a deep breath. “I’m running the obstacle course with him and Shadow…Will Blackmoon. He’s my SEAL mentor.”

  “What does that make Fast Lane?”

  “My tor-mentor. Haha. His words.” He sobered, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s already run me ragged. Geez, I couldn’t imagine being on his team.”

  “Sounds like you’d be lucky.”

  “Actually, I would. Dodger and I…bonded.”

  She nodded, then hugged him. “I’m glad. We would have lost a very good special operator.”

  He grinned. “Are you saying I put special in operator?” He winked at her and headed toward the door.

  “Lame, Sinclair,” she said as he disappeared.

  Exhausted and ready to contact Pitbull and see what was going on between them, and if he wanted to continue to see her, she walked out of the room and went down in the elevator. As the doors opened in the lobby, she saw Pitbull, blood on his clothes, emerge from the doors marked Emergency. A man was trailing behind him, looking like he’d just lost everything.

  Her gut clenched when she met his gaze. Without thought, she rushed over to him. “What happened?”

  “Come up with us and I’ll explain.” He hit the button to the elevator. “This is Mark Martin, Helen’s fiancé.”

  She nodded to him and he nodded back with a shellshocked look on his face.

  “We had an argument,” he said absently, wringing the life out of a small, well-loved stuffed rabbit in his hands, and her heart ached for him.

  “She drove off upset, lost control of the SUV and crashed into a tree. She and the girls…” Pitbull broke off and Mark swallowed hard, pressing his hand against the side of the elevator. “They’re here. Helen is going into surgery. Elise and Samantha are banged up, scared as hell, and being admitted upstairs.”

  When the elevator opened, Pitbull charged out, Mark close behind. They approached the desk. “Samantha and Elise Myerson?”

  “Are you family members?”

  “I’m Samantha’s father.”

  She nodded. “She and her sister are doing fine.” She rattled off the room and the three of them headed in that direction.

  When they burst inside, Samantha cried out, “Uncle Errol!” then started sobbing.

  Elise was already wailing, and Mark went directly to her and took her into his arms. Mak’s gut was in knots as she watched Pitbull gather Samantha close. Although she knew he must be going crazy with worry, there was nothing but calm on his face for his daughter’s sake. Seeing them together made her heart ache. She looked just like him.

  And she fell more in love with him if that was possible. But unease curled inside her. Could she do this again? Take on him and his daughter, a ready-made family. Mak backed up and left them to their privacy.

  Pitbull held Samantha for a long time. When he finally let her go, she looked up at him. “Mommy was really upset. Why was she crying? Why did we crash?”

  Pitbull looked over at Mark, but he was still soothing Elise. “It’s grown-up stuff, honey. Don’t worry.”

  “Where is Mommy? Is she…dead?” Samantha asked, her voice breaking, and her beautiful eyes filled with sorrow and fear.

  “No, she’s not dead. She’s in surgery. They’re fixing her up. She’s going to be okay,” he said, rubbing her small back.

  “You would never lie to me, so it must be true. You’re the only one who would talk to me about Daddy. I missed you so much and wished you would come to see me more.”

  “I will, Samantha. I promise.”

  She threw herself at him, every protective instinct in him rebelling against the thought of letting her go so far away from him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as if she wouldn’t ever let go.

  “I don’t want to move away. I love you too much. It’s not fair.”

  “I know.” He hugged her close and rocked her until she cried herself to sleep.

  A nurse came in and said, softly. “Mr. Martin. Helen Myerson is out of surgery. Her parents are here as well.”

  They both rose, leaving the sleeping girls. Pitbull pulled the covers up over Samantha. He stepped out of the room, sad that Mak had left. He wanted to talk to her. But when the door closed to the room, she was sitting in one of the chairs with a coffee in her hand, two more on a tray.

  Mark went with the nurse and he headed to Mak. “How are they?” she asked.

  “Sleeping, scared.”

  “Of course.”

  “I thought you left.”

  She bit her lip and looked away. “I almost did.”

  “This is too much for you?” His gut in knots, he waited.

  She took a breath and set down her coffee, stood, and came over to him. “No. It’s not. I want you in my life, Errol, with whatever comes with that. You, your daughter, your family. I want it all.”

  “I want that too, Mak,” he said.

  “I love you,” she said, her eyes filling. “You brought me back to life. You made me want and ache and love, and I don’t want to give up any of that. I want to experience it all with you.”

  He closed his eyes, so relieved and happy, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He blinked to clear his vision, knowing that coming clean with the team had released him from the shackles of
his own making. Putting everything into the past washed their slate clean and they could start fresh and new.

  “You want a husband, children, Mak?”

  “More than anything,” she said. “I want us to move forward, ready for whatever comes our way.”

  He nodded. She went into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest.

  “I’ve got everything if I have you and Samantha,” he said, and he lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss that was both binding and beginning, pledge and satisfaction…and love.

  Epilogue

  Hemingway parted the hot dog buns and set them on the plate. “You have enough underwear?” Paige asked.

  “What?”

  “Underwear. It’s going to be sandy and gritty and wet most of the time.” She sounded watery, like she was holding back tears. “Geez, my baby brother will be getting yelled at and having to endure exercising with heavy logs and carry a RIB around, and cold surf. I’m not sure I can handle this.”

  “I went through it, babe, and I’m as sassy as ever. He’s got this in the bag,” Kid said, popping a potato chip in his mouth.

  “Yeah, and it’s really wrong for you to be talking about my underwear. Besides, I’m not leaving for a month yet,” Hemingway groused. His orders had changed, placing him in a different class.

  The scent of grilling meat wafted through the screened window over the sink. Outside people were talking, a quiet din while his niece soaked up all the attention in her cute yellow sunflower bathing suit as she splashed in her pool.

  “What are you talking about?” Her tight tone gave him warning before he turned around and found her hands on her hips.

  “Uh-oh. You’re in trouble now, pal,” Kid said.

  “Who do you think washed all your freaking underwear before I taught you how to wash your own clothes?”

  Kid laughed softly and Hemingway glared at him. “Shut up, Kid.”

  Kid was Kid, so of course he didn’t shut up. He said in a baby voice, “Did your mommy take good care of you and your underwears?” He looked at Hemingway’s sister with an eager expression on his face. “Tell me. Did he have Batman underwear?”