Savage Peril: Military Romantic Suspense (Stealth Security Book 6)

by Emily Jane Trent

  When Emilia removed her goggles, she squinted under the bright lights. The room was well lit, a condition required for performing microscopic tasks. The walls were hospital white, as were the shelves and desks.

  It was a sterile environment, to be sure. Yet it was a place where Emilia was at home. Her adult life had revolved around a lab, either during college or her internship—or on duty, as she was now. The environment had a welcoming feel to her, despite its starkness.

  The lab was her home, more than the condo she lived in. It made her greatest desire possible: saving others from dreaded diseases. It was a worthwhile activity and centered her—even if the demands of her career pulled her away from social activities.

  Emilia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then made a few notes on her computer. Things were moving forward quite nicely now. If she could keep the project on course, she’d have her goal in sight. And so much depended on that happening.

  The other technicians were at their stations, absorbed with their work. She glanced at her longtime coworker Grigori, and he rose from his chair. Then he crossed the room with his usual slow stride. His calm demeanor belied the fact that he was every bit as intense and dedicated as she was.

  Grigori Kozlovsky was of Russian descent. He had dark hair, brown eyes, and a scruff of beard. He’d been there since she’d started at the lab. He was a married man with a couple of kids and appeared happy. His wife hadn’t seemed to object to his workaholic habits.

  Emilia considered him a friend, so working together made the daily efforts more enjoyable. When he stopped at her desk, she looked up. “Taking a break?”

  Grigori nodded. “I can use one.” He gave her metallic desk a pat. “Want some coffee?”

  Emilia stood, intending to go with him. But she didn’t get the chance. The door to the lab slammed open, rattling the wall, and Raymond Simms burst inside. Stunned, Emilia gaped at him. The room went silent, the other techs surely as surprised as she was.

  Ray wasn’t large in stature. But without his lab coat, his strong physique was evident. With clenched fists, he took several steps across the polished floor. The veins of his neck popped out, and his eyes narrowed.

  Taking one more step, Ray stabbed a finger at Emilia. “You! It’s your fault. Don’t think I don’t know.” He stiffened then leaned forward. For a moment, she thought that he was going to leap at her.

  Grigori was slightly in front of her, unmoving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a coworker reach for the phone, no doubt to call security.

  Where in the world was her boss? You didn’t fire any employee without escorting him out of the building. Especially one that didn’t take the news of termination well. For God’s sake, at least HR should have followed him out.

  Ray’s nostrils flared, and his biceps flexed menacingly as he thrust his fists in the air. “You’re a gutless bitch.”

  Emilia’s heart raced, and she took a step back, bumping into her desk. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. The attacker was blocking the exit. She lifted a trembling hand. “Calm down, Ray.”

  Ray moved closer. “Don’t tell me to calm down! You didn’t have the nerve to face me. You went behind my back to make accusations. You sorry—”

  Two security guards raced into the room and seized Ray’s arms. Emilia held her breath.

  “Come with us. You need to leave the premises.” The guards pulled Ray toward the door, but not before he gave her one last scathing look.

  Emilia stared toward the hallway, not quite sure if the drama was over. Just as Ray disappeared, her boss entered, distress evident in his expression. He hesitated a moment, then said, “I apologize for that. I assumed that HR had things under control.”

  Grigori spoke before she could reply. “Clearly, that was not the case. That guy could have hurt someone.”

  “Yes, I’m aware.” Donovan MacKenna, referred to as Mac by the staff, was the local manager, a man who exuded confidence and could be counted on for support. At that moment, he was clearly shaken. “I’m sorry. Firing someone can be tricky. Reactions vary. I just…”

  Emilia lifted her hand. “I’m sure you had no idea that Ray would blow up like that. I’ll admit I was shocked.”

  Grigori moved closer, but Mac waved him off. “I’ve got this.” He motioned toward the door. “You need a break, Emilia. My office,” he said, then headed that way.

  Before Emilia followed, she took a deep breath. She took off her lab coat and shoved it into the seat of her chair. “What a day.” She shook her head. “We have enough to do without this.” She waved her arm at the now-vacant entrance and hallway.

  Grigori raked his hand through his hair. “It sucks.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not. That idiot scared me to death.” With that, Emilia strode out of the lab, furious.

  Her rage hadn’t cooled much by the time she reached Mac’s office. She plopped into the chair across from him. “Please tell me that I don’t need to worry about that guy.”

  Mac didn’t answer immediately.

  Emilia expelled a long breath. “I don’t need this; I really don’t.”

  “You should be cautious. And let me know if there is any more trouble.” Mac leaned on the desk and looked directly at her. “I can’t promise that’s the end of Ray. It’s not uncommon for an employee to retaliate after getting fired. Mostly, it’s letting off steam, but not always.”

  “Are you trying to boost my morale?” Emilia said. “Because if you are, you’re doing a lousy job of it.”

  “I’m just saying, keep your eyes open.” Mac frowned. “He’s a disgruntled employee and could return with a weapon, intent on payback.”

  Emilia’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s a job, for heaven’s sake.”

  Mac shrugged. “All I’m saying is that Ray may not see it that way. Desperation could set in, and he might act accordingly.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “Report anything suspicious.”

  “Great, just great.” Emilia stood then paced. “And just what if Ray takes out his revenge, before I have a chance to report it?”

  Mac looked at her, unblinking. But he didn’t offer any sage advice.

  “And what I’d like to know,” Emilia said, pointing at her boss, “is why he came after me? I thought we discussed that you wouldn’t reveal your source. Did you just flat-out tell him that I blew the whistle?”

  Mac shook his head. “Of course not. I had to present him with the evidence of wrongdoing. That’s required before firing someone, so wrongful termination can’t be claimed. But it seems it didn’t take much detective work to figure out how I got the goods on him. Anyway, I just followed protocol.”

  “What is the protocol for firing a dangerous employee?”

  “He wasn’t dangerous until we fired him.”

  Emilia plopped down in the chair, defeated. Of course Ray knew she’d turned him in. She managed the lab. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

  “Take the rest of the day off,” Mac said. “You need some recovery time.”

  “What I need is to get back to work. I can’t afford these interruptions.” Emilia pushed the chair back and stood, looking down at her boss. “And as long as HR made sure to deactivate that guy’s key card, it’s probably safer in here than out there.”

  Once she was in the hallway, she regretted being so short with Mac. He was a good boss. He’d just screwed up this time. That didn’t make her feel any safer, though. She pushed aside the thought of Ray brandishing a weapon near her. His fists had been intimidating enough.

  Down the hall, the HR manager stepped out of his office. Clive Emmons had run the department for what seemed like forever. No one really noticed him anymore. He was the epitome of an accountant, sort of studious looking and with about as much personality as a bundle of straw.

  Clive glanced her way, then shoved a shock of dark hair off his forehead. At least his hair was clean, not greasy, which wo
uld have completed the nerdy image. He had to be in his fifties, with a receding hairline and slumped shoulders.

  He walked toward her, his limp more pronounced than usual. He looked sheepish, which he had every reason to. “Emilia, I don’t know what happened there.”

  “Please tell me that all his access has been deactivated.”

  “Of course,” Clive said, stiffening his jaw. “I didn’t start in HR yesterday, you know.”

  Emilia bit back the caustic remark on the tip of her tongue. She was annoyed by the entire incident and anxious to move on. “Okay, well…I’m glad to hear that.” She walked past him, then continued to the lab.

  She had her hand on the door when she remembered that cup of coffee she’d missed. A hot drink sounded good; she needed to get herself together. The breakroom was thankfully empty. A few minutes of quiet would be welcomed.

  The aroma of coffee wafted up as she poured a cup then doused it with creamer. Chairs were askew around the Formica table, as it was after lunch. Dishes were cast around on the counter by the sink. Emilia didn’t care. She wasn’t about to do cleanup duty after the staff.

  She settled into the small couch then took a sip of her steaming brew. Her neck hurt and her shoulders were tight. A massage would be great, but that wasn’t going to happen soon. She was just too busy. A few minutes with her coffee, then she had a few things to wrap up before her day would be over.

  Leaning back against the cushion, she gazed at the corkboard ceiling. Then her mind cleared. The party was that night. How could she have forgotten? She sighed. There was no way out of it. A friend had arranged a get-together with a few people.

  Emilia would have bowed out; that was her style. But in this case, she couldn’t. She’d promised to see a good friend there. He’d been on deployment for so many years that she’d lost count. All the way through college and her career so far, he’d been away—or mostly.

  Jonathan Hawkins Turner had been a close friend since high school. His friends called him Hawke. Thinking of him made Emilia smile. He had a way of doing that. She was the serious one, but he could make her laugh.

  But that wasn’t all she liked about him. In school, Hawke had been every girl’s dream. He was the baseball star and the ultimate charmer. He’d had girls galore, whether he wanted them or not. But he’d seemed to enjoy it.

  Reflecting, it seemed unusual that Hawke had been her friend for so long. Even with a woman on each arm, he’d found time for her. She had fond memories of talking for hours—at least when she wasn’t helping him with homework.

  Then right out of high school, Hawke left to join the Navy. He’d been a SEAL, and she admired him greatly. Once in a while, he’d come home but not for long. He’d see his family, then be off again. Emilia had remained friends with him, but there hadn’t been any opportunity to spend much time together.

  The prior year, Hawke had retired from the service. A couple of times, Emilia had run into him. But her schedule at the lab kept her busy, too much so for socializing. Plus, Hawke had been involved with setting up his new venture.

  His security firm was called Black Swan Protection, which she found clever. He’d explained that he’d formed a company with retired military. Black swans had been thought to be nonexistent, until their surprising discovery. A black swan referred to unexpected events, the type of threats or dangers that Hawke’s group had learned to predict.

  Hawke had texted to be sure that she was coming that night. It would be a chance to catch up with each other. She didn’t want to let him down, and besides, it would be good to see him. He’d find time to talk with her, despite the party setting. That’s just how he was.

  *****

  The rest of the day had proceeded without any abnormal occurrences. A raging employee threatening Emilia’s safety was enough for one day. She made it home in one piece, then shut the door of her condo behind her. She leaned against it and took a moment to listen.

  Just in case Ray had decided to pursue his vendetta and follow her home, she could still make a fast exit. But that was silly. He didn’t know where she lived. Personnel records were kept strictly confidential.

  But then, the incident earlier that day had shaken her faith in procedures being followed. She walked through all the rooms, just to be extra cautious. Wasn’t that what Mac had advised, to be cautious? It was irritating.

  She owned a condo with a window that faced the Benjamin Franklin Bridge majestically spanning the Delaware River. Taking a moment, she enjoyed the view. The beauty was comforting, and she admired the scene with the backdrop of fading sunlight.

  She’d grown up in Philly, and had attended the university, since they had one of the best biotechnology programs. It was her city, the place where she had roots. Her life was there.

  She admired the encroaching sunset, but only a few moments longer. She had to get ready. The hot, humid summer had passed. October had brought cooler temperatures, and the leaves on the trees were various shades of gold and orange. Maybe she’d carve out time to go out and enjoy the city, while it was so pleasant.

  Emilia had to shower then figure out what to wear. She was tired from a strenuous day, but she was motivated. Friendship called. For Hawke, she’d make the effort and not beg off, like she had a habit of doing.

  The hot shower helped invigorate her. She let the water pound on her tight shoulder muscles and tried to relax. She was attending a party with friends, a chance to unwind. But the thought of hanging out with Hawke wasn’t as relaxing as it should have been.

  He was a friend and had been for a long time. Yet, in the privacy of her bathroom while blow-drying her hair, she mused that he was swoon-worthy. It wasn’t news that Hawke was a heartthrob. But since he’d honed that SEAL body of his, and acquired maturity that looked damn good on him, he was more than enticing.

  The memory of the last time she’d seen him came to mind. He had close-cropped brown hair, and those piercing blue eyes. His gaze would make any woman’s heart beat a little faster. He was well muscled, but not too big. Just right. And his jeans accentuated his lean thighs.

  It was fine to think about his buff physique and to harbor feelings of lust, so long as she didn’t reveal her inner feelings to anyone else. Hawke wasn’t hers. And he wasn’t going to be. She wasn’t right for him, anyway.

  Emilia curled her long hair into soft waves. It was the best she could do at styling. The dark blond color tended to be drab, so she’d recently added blond highlights. She considered her brown eyes her best feature, so spent a few extra minutes on the eye shadow. She was finishing her makeup when her phone vibrated. A warm feeling came over her, as she guessed that Hawke might be checking about her expected arrival at the party. But it wasn’t him.

  She stared at the text, and her hand trembled. The message was offensive and upsetting.

  You haven’t seen the last of me. You’ll pay for what you did.

  It was Ray. He had been simmering in hatred all afternoon. It didn’t appear that he’d forget what had happened very soon. The alarming part was that Emilia didn’t know what he intended to do about it.

  Download to continue reading Hawke!

  If you liked Deadly Peril and want more, you’ll enjoy my other military romances!

  Stealth Security Series

  Cold Peril (Stealth Security Book 1)

  Lethal Peril (Stealth Security Book 2)

  Ruthless Peril (Stealth Security Book 3)

  Grave Peril (Stealth Security Book 4)

  Deadly Peril (Stealth Security Book 5)

  Must Love Danger Series

  Hawke (Must Love Danger Book 1)

  Ryker (Must Love Danger Book 2)

  Jake (Must Love Danger Book 3)

  Caleb (Must Love Danger Book 4)

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  Copyright

  Savage Peril by Emily Jane Trent ©2020 All Rights Reserved

  Published By Camden Lee Press

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.