Kid Chaos (SEAL Team Alpha Book 2), Page 2

  “What the fuck?” Kid said, the shock of seeing all of Mia’s furniture gone, slamming into him like a high velocity round. Straight up head shot.

  “She’s gone?” Cowboy asked.

  Kid was trying to breathe around the pain and sense of loss crowding his lungs. He turned on his heel and slammed the door.

  “Uh-oh,” Cowboy said at the look on his face.

  It didn’t take him long to get to the mall where Mia worked as a buyer for one of the high-end clothing stores. When he got to the head of the store, she was coming out. A man greeted her, and they kissed. Kid felt as if someone had given him a shot to his solar plexus. Cowboy put his hand on Kid’s shoulder. “Kid, don’t. You could easily kill the guy, and then you’re going to jail. It’s not worth it.”

  “It’s not his fault,” Kid gritted out, his eyes on Mia. The beautiful, soft Mia who had kept him going through all that shit that had gone down in the Darién, then the highly covert op that had followed shortly after that. Granted he’d been out of contact for months, but this…this was wrong.

  He strode across the space that separated him from lovely Mia. When she turned, she saw him coming and her eyes widened, her mouth formed a perfect O.

  “Ashe!” she said breathless as if she couldn’t help herself.

  When he reached her, the guy turned to him. “Who is this?”

  “None of your goddamned business. Mia, a word.” The guy dressed like a corporate lackey with his expensive suit and tie. Even though it looked like the bastard was in the dark, Kid wanted to deck him to release some of this explosive anger, the pain that was tying his insides up into knots. Even though he’d told himself never again, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. Now it was too late for any kind of retreat. He was completely caught flat-footed and dead in the water.

  “Mia?” the suit asked, his perfectly coiffed features and his ruthlessly shaven face a deep contrast to Kid’s own shaggy black hair and dark stubble. He looked more like a street thug than a SEAL. He’d just come off deployment and the first thing he had to deal with was a bare apartment, and a Dear fuck you John message in that empty, echoing space.

  “It’s all right, Chad. I’ll be right back.” There was confidence in her voice. Of course she knew Kid would never hurt her, even though she’d just torn out his guts.

  When he went to move forward after Mia, Cowboy grabbed his arm and said, “Out of millions of sperm. You were the fastest? He had a relationship with her, amigo. So, back off for a bit.”

  Even in civvies Cowboy commanded attention and Chad…Chad? Fucking Chad? What the fuck…backed off.

  Her eyes went over him as if she couldn’t seem to get enough of looking at him. She raised her hand, but at the tightening of his jaw, she let it fall back to her side. “I’ve forgotten how beautiful you are.”

  “I didn’t forget about you for a freaking heartbeat.” He shot her new boyfriend a derisive look. “Chad? Really, Mia. You could have had the decency to break up with me before you took up with him.”

  “And, how exactly would I do that, Ashe?” She set her hands on her hips, her eyes snapping with both pique and pain. “You’re always gone, and when you’re here, there’s always the threat you’ll be called in. I can’t wait around for the rest of my life worrying about whether you’re dead or alive. You take such chances. You’re not unbreakable!”

  “Yes, I am.”

  She let out an exasperated breath. “I’m sure you think that’s some kind of SEAL mental exercise. But you can die just like anyone else. I can’t live with that. Losing you like that. I don’t have that kind of strength. I just want to remember what we had.” She looked over her shoulder at Chad, and Kid wanted to howl at the top of his lungs. “He’s easy, a banker. He has normal hours, and he’s good to me. I can make a life with him. We never really meshed except in bed. We were good there.” She rubbed at her forehead, closing her eyes at the memory. “So good.” At the flash, he grabbed her hand.

  “You’re engaged?” The rock sparkled under the lights, and his heart shattered.

  She bit her lip when she met his eyes, tears welling. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I tried to tell you the last time you were here.” She brushed at her tears. “You looked so tired and banged up. I knew I couldn’t handle it anymore. When he asked me out, I said yes and things progressed.”

  “While I was fighting and risking my life for this country and you!” He couldn’t believe what was happening. This was the second woman in his life that was walking out on him. He closed his eyes.

  The minute he’d seen her after BUD/S was over, Caitlin had become distant. He kept trying to tell himself that it was his imagination, but when he woke up two days later alone, her closet and drawers cleaned out, he knew.

  He’d gone after her using their GPS app; he’d tracked her down and there on a lonely highway halfway to Virginia he’d caught her. She had told him she couldn’t and pressed the ring back into his palm. She said she wasn’t strong enough to handle his absence, the worry would kill her and kill their relationship. She would resent him, and she didn’t want that. Then she’d gotten in her car and driven away.

  Mia shot back breaking him out of that flashback. “I know, but the thought of breaking it off then having you go into danger with that to deal with was just too cruel. You were gone so long. I just couldn’t wait anymore. I’m sorry, Ashe.”

  He watched her stoically walk away as he fought with the betrayal, the pain, and the loss.

  Cowboy came up to him and said, his voice subdued, “I’m sorry, Kid.”

  Love was a freaking crock, trying to keep a relationship going was tantamount to climbing Mt. Everest. She wasn’t wrong. He was deployed approximately two hundred and forty days out of the year. He was always on call, always in danger, but she’d been wrong. He was unbreakable. They just had different meanings for it. But he was serving his country, giving his all for her and people he didn’t even know. It was what he signed up for, was dedicated to doing.

  He guessed he was more in love with the team then he was with her.

  “It’s okay, Cowboy,” he said. “I’m okay. I’m just pissed I lost out to a banker.” He buried his disappointment, his betrayal, and his pain, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, not even himself.

  Cowboy deposited Kid on his bed after he force fed him ibuprofen and water. Made him brush his teeth. That’s when Kid had broken down, and Cowboy had held him in a tight embrace like the brother in arms he was.

  The guy who had saved his life many times, most recently in the Darién Gap. It was Mia’s loss, and he would admit to himself, she knew it. Even as she’d walked away with her banker, she couldn’t keep her eyes off the boy wonder. Yeah, the kid was male eye candy and packed a lethal punch to the fairer sex, but he was also noble, smart, considerate, and a freaking amazing catch.

  At least she’d left him a place to sleep, the callous, backstabbing bitch. The boy was wasted, had passed out after the sixth bar they’d visited. Long before he’d done the sweet babe in the john and had been making out with another one shortly after that. There were plenty of strap hangers or frog hogs as they were referred to in line. He was on a crash course and Cowboy would be there to pick up the pieces stone cold sober. Kid had wounds and scars; this was a fresh one and completely invisible. He ached for his teammate, but all he could do was administer the alcohol, pick up all his pieces, and try to help to put them back together again. They only had so much leave, and Ashe needed to be one-hundred percent when they went back to work.

  Distractions in their job could kill them. Cowboy had to fight his all the time.

  He knew all about the heartache associated with coming home, and he hadn’t been back to Galveston in a long time, but the shame was always there, lurking. His agitation only intensified when he thought about going back home for his cousin Michele’s wedding. He’d gotten the notice only days before their last deployment and now it was only months away, but he was already dreading
it.

  He stripped Kid down to his skivvies and pulled the covers over him. Setting his Stetson on the bed post, he pulled off his shirt and toed off his boots. He went to Kid’s closet and pulled out the camping cot he kept there along with a sleeping bag.

  He finally shucked his jeans and thought about the one woman he’d never been able to get off his mind, going all the way back to high school. Kia Silverbrook, a beautiful freak. She dressed like no one he’d ever seen, goth inspired, sexy ass, downright stirring leather and lace garments that Cowboy, in his teenaged hormone laden years, often wanted to strip off her body and see what she was hiding underneath. She looked like a storm with her pitch-black hair, cloud-gray eyes, and alabaster skin.

  He’d heard in his senior year that she had a tattoo on her butt, and he was dying to know what it was. She was a hacker extraordinaire with the kind of skills MIT grads salivated over and had been suspended once for hacking into the school’s grading system just to prove she could. She was brilliant, sexy and she scared the hell right out of him. She was in the freak squad, and he was on the football squad. But that’s not what stopped him from making a move. No, there was something about her that spelled danger in big red letters. His plan had been to go to college and then take over the ranch, but two years into his degree, and everything changed. The ranch had been in heavy debt and as a result, the ranch had to go up for sale after his father’s death. Feeling ashamed of his father’s action and unable to focus on his studies, when a recruiter for the SEALs had come around, Cowboy had enlisted.

  But it had been ten years since he’d seen that girl. She was probably married with a passel of children.

  Kid stirred, the sound of his fresh heartache muffled into his pillow, touching Cowboy as he drifted off with Kia’s dark eyes on his mind, wondering what might have been had he taken a chance.

  2

  Six months later, La Paz, Bolivia

  Paige Sinclair pulled up the booking for the guest who would be arriving today. Ashe Wilder. He was going to be here with them for a week on various bike trips around the area. His flight had already landed, and he would be taking his trek down the most dangerous road in a couple of days. He hadn’t planned out the rest of his trips. He said he wanted to be spontaneous. Not something Paige was used to in her life, but to each their own, she supposed.

  The tour company brought in the adrenaline junkies by the boatloads. Some talked about climbing Everest or visiting an Incan temple on a mountain top in Machu Picchu. Paige got plenty of adrenaline with her real job as a Special Agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service or NCIS. She was in La Paz undercover with the tour company, investigating the theft of a large cache of military weapons out of Naval Amphibious Base Coronado or NAB Coronado. It was a huge naval installation across the bay from San Diego, California. Paige worked out of the West Coast Headquarters for NCIS located in Oceanside, California at Camp Pendleton, the Marine Corps Base.

  One of the armories on NAB Coronado had been robbed, two military policemen murdered. It was a well-thought out, highly-executed job, but one of the robbers had been shot. The weapons hadn’t been recovered, nor had they showed up on the international market.

  The DNA of the blood found at the scene matched Corporal David Duffield, a former marine, but he had disappeared along with the weapons. The only other evidence found at the scene was the flight manifest to La Paz, a key piece of evidence the wounded man must have dropped during the robbery. After exhaustive research, Paige discovered that Duffield had connections to a former CIA officer, Bryant Anderson who was part owner in a tour company based out of La Paz. He was co-owners with a Bolivian native, Cris Oyola. Anderson was rumored to also be a mercenary for hire as well as a provider of arms and ammunitions. It was enough to convince the Director of NCIS to allow her to go undercover at the tour company to surveille Anderson and investigate the connection.

  She’d been here for two weeks and no sign of any illegal activity, the guns, or Duffield had materialized. This made her wonder if the wounded marine had been unable to complete the flight and crashed in the Andes. The rugged terrain around here could easily have concealed the downed wreckage. That was a daunting task and it would involve more than just her undercover. She’d need proof before the Director would contact the Secretary of the Navy or SECNAV and start the wheels rolling for a search of approximately thirty-four thousand square feet of mountains, not to mention it was possible the plane could have dropped into the ocean, then those weapons would never be recovered. The pilot wouldn’t have sent out any kind of mayday or turned on a beacon to follow. No, he’d wanted to fly under the radar, but his wound could have been fatal…. Still all speculation on her part. She wasn’t going to involve any kind of official channels until she had something concrete to go on.

  Especially with her promotion hanging in the balance. She was on the cusp of getting her own team. She’d put in the years and the time, given up everything to her job, including her personal life. So, she had few friends, and she spent all her time working. Her father had done the same and he had been her role model. Her dedication had made her stand out at NCIS and she fit into the team seamlessly.

  The bell over the door rang as a group of people came into the office. She looked up to see it was one of the tour groups from the US. She smiled and started to check them in, confirming their reservations. After the last person, she made the necessary adjustments to the record. Just as someone came up to the counter, she dropped her pen, bending down to retrieve it. When she came back up, her breath backed up in her lungs. Wow was all her brain could come up with at the moment. Just wow.

  He was tall, six two at least and lean that hinted at the kind of muscular described as “ripped.” He was insanely good looking, boyish, but those eyes of his told her that he was much older than he looked, closer to thirty maybe. He had a well-formed nose and beneath that a rebellious mouth, the bottom lip fuller than the top. But it was those piercing eyes that gave her the warning that he was dangerous, with the kind of stare that was usually reserved for interrogations—intent, potent. It was just a natural extension of his personality. He had on a baseball cap, the brim shadowing his features, but couldn’t conceal his strong, angular jawline.

  He looked like he’d just come off a climb. He was dressed in olive green cargo pants, a gray T-shirt, top of the line hiking boots, and a black jacket tied around his slim hips.

  Who was this guy?

  “Ashe Wilder,” he said, as if he’d read her mind, his voice low and melodious, a pretty sound out of an arresting man. “I have a reservation.”

  He gave her a half-smile from that sexy mouth and leaned forward extending his hand toward her.

  “Yes,” she managed, placing her hand in his. “Paige Sinclair.” She was bombarded by disturbing new impressions. There was a compelling attractiveness about him, an appeal that was unfeigned and indestructible. His eyes were a deep cobalt blue and the long, thick lashes accentuated their hypnotic intensity.

  There was something very intriguing about his face, something that touched her in the most profound way. It revealed a depth of character, an inner strength, but it also revealed an imperviousness that had been carved by experience. Paige felt an immediate affinity for him that she had never felt for another human being. Her keen awareness of him as a man had an immobilizing effect on her, and she was conscious of nothing except the warmth of his touch and his unwavering gaze.

  “Don’t tell me you can’t find it, ma’am? I didn’t just fly almost five thousand miles to be a tourist,” he said, the look of irrepressible mischief in his eyes. “It’s not my thing.”

  His words broke the spell, but Paige was unwilling to break physical contact with this man, and she reluctantly withdrew her hand from his grasp.

  He stared at her for a second longer. She realized he was waiting for her answer.

  She looked down, typing in his name. The record popped up, and she just stared at it, trying to regain her shaken composure
. Right, the American from San Diego.

  She looked up and got flustered all over again. She never got flustered even when she worked with some of the biggest jerks on the planet who thought a female agent was a pushover. Especially now when she had a job to do and didn’t need any gorgeous distractions.

  His brows rose as he stared at her waiting for her answer. He pulled off his baseball cap, revealing a shock of dark hair, heavy with just a tad too long bangs, but short in the back. He ran his hand through the silky strands.

  “No, we’ve got your reservation. No bazaar shopping sprees for you unless that’s something you want to do.”

  He flashed her a smile that was pure charm. “I have some things to buy for friends and family, so I guess I can work the shops a bit.” Oh, God, this man could charm the pants off a nun…that’s if nuns wore pants…did they?

  She handed him his welcome package.

  “I didn’t make a hotel reservation. Can you recommend one?”

  “Oh, that was risky.”

  The change in him was immediate. It was as if some vital link had been broken, and his expression was suddenly shuttered as he scrutinized her. “I live on the edge.” It was obvious that he had, for some reason, withdrawn behind a wall of cool politeness, and that bothered Paige more than she liked to admit. Her voice was uneven when she responded. “That’s why you’re here.”

  Their eyes connected, and for a split second his guard was down, and Paige experienced a sudden galvanizing rush that set her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. But beneath the electric undercurrent of sexual chemistry, there was a distinct push-pull dynamic. Whatever initial attraction there was between them, he wasn’t sure about pursuing it.

  “The hotel?” he asked. Bending down, he picked up a worn leather duffel and set it on his impossibly broad shoulders, his biceps pulling into a thick, hard bulge.

  “Yes. I could recommend Hotel Petite Hacienda. It’s close by and has all the amenities.”