Invincible

The Trident Code: Book 1

Alana Albertson

This book is dedicated to all the women in the world who have been trafficked.

May they have hope and find peace.

We are U.S. Navy SEALs.

There's no need to thank us because we don't exist.

You never saw us.

This never happened.

―ANONYMOUS

1.

Liberty. Finally, a night off. Fuck yeah!

Petty Officer 2nd Class Victor Gonzales slicked some gel into his dark brown hair and slathered on some after-shave. “Hey, Walsh—you wanna go to that club tonight? Near the plaza?”

Another tourist hotspot in picturesque Curaçao—drunken college girls on spring break, wayward daughters escaping their parents on family cruises. I had no desire to spend my first night on land in seven months making small talk, hoping to get lucky. I wanted a sure thing, with no strings.

“No thanks, man. I’m just going to head on into town and get a bite to eat.”

Petty Officer 2nd Class Kyle Lawson trimmed his short black beard and nodded toward me. “You sure? You’re my wingman, bro. Vic over here can never close the deal.”

Vic threw the bottle of hair gel at Kyle. “Fuck you, Kyle. I have standards—I just don’t sleep with every girl who blinks my way.”

Yeah, I definitely needed to go solo tonight, even though the three of us always made our mark when we hit the town. Three United States Navy SEALs didn’t exactly blend in with the local tourists. We were all ripped, especially since on deployment we spent all our free time in the ship’s gym. Vic’s huge arms were decorated with tattoos. Stupid motherfucker, identifying markers weren’t a plus in the Teams. He’d never make SEAL Team Six. And at six feet five inches tall, former NFL linebacker Kyle towered over Vic and me, though we could hardly be considered short since we both measured in at over six feet. People would stop Kyle all the time and ask him for an autograph, thinking that he was a Hollywood movie star or a rapper. Not to mention, the two of them looked like a walking Navy SEAL diversity outreach recruitment poster, with me standing out as the blonde-haired, blue-eyed white boy.

“I’ll meet up with you two fools later.” For the past seven months, I’d spent every waking minute with my Team—SEAL Team Seven to be precise. We’d been circling the Caribbean Islands, working our asses off, patrolling and hunting “go-fast” boats run by South American drug cartels. Tomorrow, I planned to snorkel, relax on the beach, and rest before our next mission. And later tonight I’d meet up with Kyle and Vic and get hammered.

But first things first—I needed some pussy.

I pulled on my civilian clothes, which felt foreign to my body. Sandals and shorts instead of boots and “utes.” I glanced in the mirror and debated whether to shave off my full beard. No point. One benefit of being a SEAL was our relaxed grooming standards. The Marines on our carrier still had to shave daily and cut their hair within regulation. We SEALs could grow full beards and keep our hair longer, to blend in undercover. I certainly wasn’t trying to impress anyone tonight, so I grabbed my wallet and headed out.

Where the fuck was that brothel again? I’d visited it last time we were here. Some of the Team guys refused to pay for sex—they’d rather cheat on their wives or girlfriends with unsuspecting coeds or stay on ship all night reading the Bible. Fuck that. I didn’t have a wife, or a girlfriend. Some woman back home to screw around on me while I was deployed nine months out of the year? No, thanks. I’d tried that once—I don’t think our ship had even left the dock before she already had another guy’s cock in her mouth. Never again. At least I wasn’t one of those guys slipping in and out of women’s lives, filling them with empty promises. I’d seen enough of those men growing up—assholes taking me to baseball games, vowing to be my new dad, fucking my mom and then vanishing. I never made any commitments—except to my country and to my men. Sleeping with a prostitute was the definition of safe sex to me.

Neon-colored buildings lined the streets, some marked with graffiti. A dark-skinned Columbian man with a visible gun in a holster approached me. “Hey, sailor, looking for a good time?”

Damn straight. I hadn’t laid eyes on a woman in seven months. I said no words, just nodded my head and followed him into an alley, where he frisked me for a gun. I was all clear. The sun beat down on the broken pavement and I realized what a dumbass I was for going to a brothel in daylight. But I didn’t give a fuck.

The multi-colored beaded curtain crashed in the wind and I heard some Caribbean music in the background. The man rang a bell, and at least a dozen women ran from the back of the ramshackle house. They were dressed in cheap heels and trashy nighties; this wasn’t no high-class joint. But that was fine by me.

One brunette caught my eye. Her black thong was hiked high up on her hips, like she was stuck in some eighties music video. Light-skinned, long legs, small breasts. She seemed older and more withdrawn than the others—and she was the only one who didn’t make eye contact with me.

I pointed. “Her.”

The other girls dispersed, probably grateful to get a small break from being forced to fuck a stranger.

But I didn’t want to think about their pathetic lives. There was nothing I could do to improve their existences. My conscience was already filled with guilt—I didn’t need to add their sob stories to my burden.

The whore led me down a hallway into a tiny room. The place reeked of cum and sweat, covered by some sort of coconut spritz. What did I expect for twenty dollars?

A tiny cot was pushed up to the left side of the room; a plastic end table filled the other corner. Was this where she lived? There were a few needles lying haphazardly in the trashcan. Of course she was a heroin addict—how else could she live this life? I was a SEAL—I knew that these women were probably all forced into prostitution at a young age. They had once been little girls playing make believe, dreaming of princes and castles. But I was no prince. I’d done enough life saving in my time and I’d learned the hard way that I couldn’t save them all.

“What’s your name?” I didn’t really care but I felt that since she’d be sucking my dick, I should at least know her name.

She pursed her lips, as if she was trying to say something but couldn’t get the words out. Her face looked vaguely familiar but I knew I hadn’t fucked her before. My last whore was Dominican: dark, curvy, black eyes. This chick seemed different, more tragic.

“Fine, we don’t have to talk. Blow me.” I took twenty dollars out of my pocket. If she did a good job, I’d give her a tip.

Over the years, I’d learned that blowjobs were the best way to go with a whore. They always gave amazing ones, and you never felt the guilt that you did taking extra long to come as you would with your girlfriend. Plus, there was less chance for a disease, especially since I always wore a condom. The Navy tested me every month so I figured there was minimal risk.

“Take your panties off.”

Her panties dropped to the floor, revealing a nicely trimmed triangle. I loved it. Why did all those American bitches wax everything off? I was a man; I didn’t want a little girl.

I sat on the edge of the cot. She knelt in front of me, pulled off my belt, and glanced up at me, taking a moment to stare. There were drug tracks on her forearms and a deep scar on her right shoulder. Her eyes were hazel, deep set, and disturbed. I closed mine; I couldn’t deal with her pain.

She rolled on the condom I’d handed her and took my cock in her mouth, slowly. I felt her warm tongue dance around me. Flicking, teasing, sucking. Damn, this bitch was good. Sometimes, when I was getting a blowjob, I would imagine that the whore was my girlfriend, or even my wife. That she loved me, was faithful to me, lived for pleasing me, and that being with me even for just a few months out of the year was worth enduring the loneliness when I was gone. That she respected that I saw being a SEAL as more than a job—it was my calling.

I opened my eyes and placed my hand on the back of her head, her dark, wiry hair bobbing up and down. She stopped for a second, looked me dead in the eyes, and shifted from kneeling to sitting on her left side, exposing her right ankle. It had a tattoo of an alien from a Saturday morning animated show that I used to watch when I was a kid—did women in the Caribbean watch American cartoons? Weird.

She got back down to business.

I didn’t want to come, for this moment to be over. But fuck, it had been so damn long. I mean, I barely even jerked off in my rack because my buddies were in the ones right next to mine.

Her mouth sucked on me hard, pulling and pushing. Man, why did this feel so good even with the latex barrier between us? I couldn’t hold back any longer—I exploded into the condom.

She handed me a towel. I took off the condom, threw it in the trash, cleaned myself up and then pulled on my shorts. This part was awkward, always was. But at least she hadn’t spoken yet, so her voice wouldn’t haunt my dreams or my conscience.

Her lashes blinked twice, as if she was deep in thought and wanted to tell me something. But I didn’t want to know her problems—I just wanted to get the fuck out of there.

I threw down five twenties and pushed myself off the cot. But she stood up, took my hand, and her lips grazed my ear, making sure to shield her hair over her mouth.

“My name is Annie Hamilton. I’m an American citizen. I was kidnapped from a cruise ship five years ago. You’re my last hope. Please save me.”

What the fuck? This bitch wanted me to believe she was a sex-trafficked American? What kind of con was this heroin-addicted whore trying to pull on me?

“I gotta go.” I shoved her off me. This was not my problem. She was not my problem. I walked out of that smelly room and didn’t look back.

The streets of Curaçao were bustling now in the early evening, tourists strolling through this idyllic Caribbean town, unaware that around the corner from where they were buying shot glasses and sundries, women were turning tricks for less than the price of the tourists’ margaritas. The view of the beach was blocked by the endless taxicabs and the cobblestone streets were littered with cigarettes.

Dammit. Of all the brothels, all the whores. Why did I go there? Why did I choose her? I didn’t need this shit. I headed to the closest bar to get drunk. Not one of those pretty tourist joints that served up fruity drinks. A seedy local dive that offered nothing but hard liquor. No pictures of palm trees and beaches. The walls were barren, the air was thick with tobacco, and the bar stools had been cut with blades.

I should’ve listened to Kyle, fucked some college girl.

“Tequila, straight.”

The bartender poured me a drink, then another. Smooth, sweet, salty, tart.

The more the liquor flowed, the more I tried to push her out of my mind. I thought about my dog back home, my mother, my ex-girlfriend, my truck. I made small talk with the bartender; lied about my job, told him I was a tourist on a business retreat.

By the end of the night, I was blazed senseless. I stumbled back to the U.S.S. Ronald Regan, our huge, Naval nuclear-powered super carrier, and collapsed onto my rack.

But there was one problem. Her voice. She had spoken with a perfect American accent; sounded like she was from California. And her vaguely familiar face now made me think that I had seen her picture once on a magazine.

Christ. One fucking blowjob and now the whore was a constant presence in my brain. Maybe Kyle was right—I did need to get laid more often.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, praying to erase her from my memory.

2.

I rolled out of my rack the next morning and hit the head to take a piss. A hot shower would’ve been nice, but I had something more important to do.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, black, and went over to our computer and typed in the name she had given me. A-N-N-I-E H-A-M-I-L-T-O-N.

The screen lit up—articles, news clips, videos, websites. “American Analía ‘Annie’ Rose Hamilton Vanishes on Romantic Cruise.” There was even a wiki: “The Disappearance of Analía Rose Hamilton.”

Could the drug-addicted prostitute from last night really be America’s missing sweetheart? Maybe she was part of some elaborate con job? A light-skinned prostitute could’ve faked the American accent, learned the story, and used it to bilk johns like me out of cash. How could I be certain that woman was Annie?

I clicked on the first image—the cover of People Magazine. “Vanished Without A Trace: Annie Hamilton.” Those deep hazel eyes from last night stared back at me.

Fuck.

I skimmed the first line; five years ago, just as she’d said. And by all accounts, she was still missing.

After five years, surely she was dead, right? Yet no trace of her body had ever been found. Now I remembered hearing about her disappearance, but I was deployed in Iraq at the time so I never knew all the details.

I read the first article. Annie and her boyfriend, Chris Porter, had taken a spring break cruise to the Caribbean. They’d partied until around two a.m. in the nightclub on the cruise ship and multiple guests saw them dancing together. By all accounts, they’d both been extremely intoxicated and a few guests recalled that Chris seemed to be jealous when Annie climbed up on stage to sing with the members of Divi Divi, the house band. At two thirty a.m., her boyfriend’s key card was used to enter their room, and he swore that she was with him.  Chris stated that the last time he saw her was around five a.m. sitting on the balcony of their suite the morning the cruise docked in Curaçao. He figured she just wanted to get fresh air and watch the sunset so he went back to sleep. A few other passengers claimed that they saw her at around six a.m. in the elevator with a member of the house band. Chris passed a lie detector test and had repeatedly stated his innocence. The FBI had conducted a bomb search of the ship but found nothing. Authorities believed she’d fallen overboard in a drunken stupor, committed suicide or was pushed by her boyfriend after a fight, but despite a search of the waters, no trace of her had ever been found.

I didn’t believe that she had drowned, because the ship had already been in port when she vanished.

Suicide? Doubtful. She was young, hot, in college, in love. Came from money. I guess she could’ve been depressed but I figured it was a long shot.

As for the boyfriend? I felt bad for the guy. He was a pretty-boy, wealthy surfer from La Jolla who probably never worked a day in his life. Tan, blonde, looked like one of those guys who sat on the beach smoking weed laughing at the BUD/S SEAL candidates while they were running around carrying logs over their heads during Hell Week. Came from a good family, played water polo at San Diego University. He seemed normal enough, but how did anyone really know how he treated Annie behind closed doors? Maybe he abused her. If he killed her, then he got away with the perfect crime. If he was innocent, his life was ruined from the suspicion and the guilt he must’ve felt not knowing what had happened to her.

I gazed across the ocean from my porthole. The cruise ship dock was only a mile away. If she had fallen, someone would’ve seen her, either on her ship, from the surrounding cruise ships, or in the port. It didn’t add up.

In the weeks, months, years that had followed, there’d been a few sightings of Annie on Curaçao and on other neighboring Caribbean islands, but nothing ever panned out. Her family had even supposedly once paid some con man pretending to be a former SEAL three hundred thousand dollars to find her, but he turned out to be a fraud. I fucking hated any motherfucker who lied about being a SEAL. It was easy to figure these assholes out—just ask them their SEAL training class number. Not knowing your SEAL training class number is like not knowing your last name.

But I still wasn’t convinced yet that the prostitute was who she said she was. I didn’t want to stake my career on a maybe.

I studied a few more websites. Her parents had made www.findannie.com.

There were childhood photos, lists of sightings, news articles, links to television programs.

There was a letter begging for her return posted from Chris with pictures of the happy couple.

Then a photo caught my eye.

The tattoo on her ankle.

That little cartoon alien. So that’s why she made sure I saw it. Just in case I was the man she thought I was.

The words of The Navy SEAL Code, our warrior creed, echoed in my head.

“In times of war or uncertainty there is a special breed of warrior ready to answer our Nation’s call.

A common man with uncommon desire to succeed.

Forged by adversity, he stands alongside America’s finest special operations forces to serve his country, the American people, and protect their way of life.

I am that man.”

Fuck.

The girl from last night was Annie. I was certain.

I clicked on another picture.

Yup—the scar on her shoulder. She’d shown me that also.

My heart beat rapidly in my chest, my jaw clenched.

Dammit, why did I run out of there last night instead of talking to her? Because I didn’t believe her—that’s why.

Why hadn’t anyone rescued her? She was an American for Christ’s sake! This wasn’t a fucking movie. There weren’t FBI and CIA agents on the ground in Curaçao searching for kidnapped Americans, especially since there was no proof that she had been abducted. Any sightings of her would first be passed to the local police, which were corrupt as fuck. Her parents could’ve hired one of the many contractor groups filled with former SEALs who did this shit for a living.

U.S. Navy SEALs could rescue her. I could rescue her.

There was a three hundred thousand dollar reward for her safe return. But I didn’t want any money. If I saved her, I had to remain anonymous. Any hint of an active duty Navy SEAL going rogue would ruin my career on the Teams.

I glanced back at her pictures. Man, she’d been beautiful. Could’ve been my high school sweetheart. She was half Latina, looked almost like a young Wonder Woman. Her black hair had been shiny, her hazel eyes had been bright. A soccer star, a prom queen, a little girl in pigtails. And I had treated her like she was a piece of trash.

Fucking traffickers. Most Americans were completely oblivious to the sex trade. They thought it only happened in third world countries. But girls were kidnapped off the streets in middle America, and forced to service assholes like me. I wanted her to be just another piece of ass that I could use and forget, but the pain in her eyes reminded me too much of my own hell.

What the fuck was I going to do? Tell my men? Ask my command? It wasn’t that easy. Everyone thinks that Navy SEALs are above the law—that we can do whatever we please without any consequences. Like that ridiculous story that one of our snipers shot and killed two civilian men and wasn’t even brought in for police questioning. Bullshit. There’s protocol, and busting into brothels was way out of our jurisdiction. I’d have to talk to my commanding officer. He’d send me to Captain’s Mass for going to a brothel.  Any rescue attempt would have to be cleared with the FBI and CIA. There would be an investigation to see if she was who she said she was. They might set up a sting operation. And the cops in Curaçao were crooked and could tip off her pimp. If her pimp had any inkling of what was going on, he’d probably kill her without a second thought.

And I wasn’t going to let that happen.

All those prostitutes in that whorehouse were probably trafficked from somewhere, but I couldn’t save every whore in the place. It would cause an international incident; most of them were probably from Eastern Europe or Central and South America. But I’d be damned if I let Annie, or any other American trapped there, spend one more day than they had to in that hellhole. Other men didn’t get why I hadn’t shed a tear when I found out that my fiancée had cheated on me. But the national anthem? ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ had me bawling like someone shot my dog. I watched my buddies die protecting our county’s freedoms. And I’d lay down my own life before I let some traffickers steal Annie’s life.

She was now twenty-three, two years younger than me. I thought being away from my friends and family during my deployments was bad, but at least I had volunteered to take this job. Living for five years in a foreign country as a sex slave was unimaginable.

“My loyalty to Country and Team is beyond reproach. I humbly serve as a guardian to my fellow Americans always ready to defend those who are unable to defend themselves.”

Enough men had used her and then abandoned her; I wasn’t going to be one of them.

3.

Vic made his way through the tangled maze of hung over SEALs in our sleeping quarters to talk to me. “Want to get dinner?”

If I flaked on them two nights in a row, they’d know I was up to something. “I can’t. I’m going to get a massage.”

Kyle’s head popped up in his rack. “As long as it includes a happy ending, I’m in.”

These men were my best friends—I didn’t want to lie to them. We’d saved each other’s lives more times than I cared to remember.

“No can do, I’m already late. I’ll be back in a bit and we’ll go out.” I slipped a watch on my wrist and left the ship.

I had to see Annie before they shuffled her to another brothel and I lost the opportunity forever. My goal was to assess the situation, case the building, and size up her captors, so I could plan a mission. I had to see her again—I needed to be one hundred percent sure that the girl with the hollow eyes really was Annie.

Would the pimp get suspicious if I came back two days in a row? I doubted it. If she, Annie, had survived five years, she must’ve gained their trust. They probably thought she was so strung out that she wanted dope more than she wanted her old life back. That’s how these lowlifes worked—strip these girls of their identities.

But she’d told me her name. She trusted me. And I’d walked away from her.

Some hero.

The streets seemed less bright today. I had actually looked forward to my Team’s mission in the Caribbean waters. Curaçao was a better destination than Afghanistan, as far as I was concerned. But now I’d rather be roasting in the mountains, than investigating the underbelly of this paradise.

I stopped by a tourist shop. Purchased some water, snacks, lotion, and a dress for Annie. Also bought her a small necklace, which I placed in my pocket.

The same Columbian man found me on the street. “Sailor, you had good time? Welcome back, my friend.”

I hated the way these vipers called me friend. I wondered if he even knew Annie was American. Often these girls were traded to other pimps, so he might not even know who she was, if she kept her cover. Even though he carried a rifle around his shoulders, I could take this fool in a second even without my weapon.

I followed him back into the brothel. He was about to ring the bell but I stopped him. “I want the same girl I had last night.”

“Star? Sure, sure. How about two girls? I give you a good price.”

I shook my head. “Nope, one will do. ‘Star’ did a good job.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I opened it up. “Some food, water, clothes, lotion. I wanted her to dress up for me and smell good. How much for an extra hour? I’m heading back out to sea tomorrow.”

He rummaged through the bag, and then squinted his eyes. “I give her to you for two hours free, for your watch.”

I didn’t hesitate to hand it over to him.

His face broke out into a smile. He motioned to me and led me down the hallway, to her door. Then he turned and left to lure the next jerk like me inside.

I paused before I opened the door.

One desperate plea. This wasn’t a Hollywood blockbuster or a New York Times best-selling thriller. I knew that this time there was no room for excuses, no margin for errors. I had one chance to put the cape on and be her hero.

The door squeaked. Annie was sitting on her cot, rocking back and forth, cradling her body.

Her head snapped to the side when she saw me. As her jaw dropped, I shut the door and put my index finger over my mouth, motioning for her to stay quiet. My eyes darted around the walls, scanning for a camera. Luckily, this low budget brothel was not high tech. The acidic smell of heroin made me gag. I glared at the floor and saw used needles under the bed.

She must’ve understood my disgusted expression because her chin dropped and she cowered.

I knelt beside her and traced my fingers over her tattoo. The image was ingrained in my memory; it was a perfect match.

After five years, extensive manhunts, and expensive private investigators, I’d found Annie Hamilton.

This time, she wasn’t wearing lingerie, probably because she hadn’t been called out to the line. She was clad in a stained white tee shirt and pink cotton panties.

I sat on the bed and held her hand. “Annie, my name is Patrick Walsh—I’m a Navy SEAL. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Her body trembled and she started shaking her head. But she didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry for running out of here the other night.”

I debated apologizing for paying her to give me a blowjob. But I wasn’t sorry. A, it was amazing. And B, I’d found her. That was all that mattered. Maybe I also hoped I could get a repeat performance. Wishful thinking considering her current state. I pushed the thought from my mind.

Annie sobbed quietly. But I could handle that. Being raised by a single mom, I’d comforted her so many times growing up it was as if I were the parent. Every time her heart broke, she lost a job, or didn’t have enough money for Christmas presents, I was the one she had turned to.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m going to take care of you.” I embraced her; her tiny frame almost disappeared in my strong arms. She buried her head into my chest. From now on, there could be no sexual contact between us ever again. But I wasn’t an asshole—she’d been through hell and back and if she needed me to hold her, wipe away her tears, and tell her everything was safe, I would do that. “You can relax. I’m not going to have sex with you, or make you touch me—that’s not why I’m here tonight.” I brushed back the hair on her face and handed her the paper bag. “I picked you up some things, clothes and stuff.”

Mascara ran down her face. She opened the bag and took out a sundress, fresh panties and a bra, and some coconut-scented lotion. I kept the necklace in my pocket.

Her tongue poked in her cheek and she swallowed.

“Put the dress on.”

She nodded, stood up and turned away from me as she undressed. I couldn’t stop staring at her tight little ass. Her sudden shyness surprised me, since less than twenty-four hours ago she had my dick in her mouth. I felt a dull pain in my chest. I hated myself for adding to her nightmare. At least I came back.

I needed to figure out her daily routine, how far gone she was on heroin, and try to make a plan. There was no intel team on the ground making action plans for me. I was in charge. And alone. No one to watch my back...or hers.

“Ready to Lead, Ready to Follow, Never Quit.”

I couldn’t risk making a call later to the FBI or smuggling her now to the embassy. I didn’t have time to conduct a full background investigation and go through the proper channels.

Maybe I should’ve told Vic. He would’ve known what to do. But Vic played by the rules. He would’ve never let me go rogue. Or accompany me to a brothel, for that matter. Vic was a good man, a deeply pious Catholic. When his wife cheated on him during our last mission, I didn’t know if he would make it. He spent every minute back in the States with his daughter, Carina. I knew he missed her like crazy. I couldn’t imagine having a child. My dad left before I was born, so I wouldn’t have a fucking clue about how to be a father.

Annie turned back toward me, dressed in her sweet yellow sundress, her hands fidgeting, as if she wanted approval.

“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous,” I offered. Though she was way too skinny, and her skin was speckled with bruises and welts, she was still sexy as hell. Her pouty lips curved up, her wild hair framed her face. I wanted to hike up that sundress, rip off her panties and feel her wet pussy clench around me, but I knew that I could never cross the line with her. From the moment I realized who she was, she became like any other job. She was nothing more than a mission to me now.

She sat on the cot next to me. I wanted to move over and put an invisible line of distance between us but I kept her close by my side. I didn’t want any temptation; I had a job to do.

I whispered into her ear. “I need to take a few pictures, okay?”

She just shrugged and I took out my phone. Took a shot of her ankle, her scar, and her face.

“What happened, Annie? Tell me everything.”

She remained silent. Her dilated pupils remained fixed on the wall.

I pulled her to me, and stroked her hair. “I’m sure they think that by now they’ve humiliated you so much you’d never consider running. You can trust me. But I can only help you if you let me.”

Her shoulders dropped and she blinked rapidly.

I didn’t want to talk about myself, but I guess she needed more from me in order to open up. “I believe you. I’ve gone through extensive training on reading people. I saw your tattoo, your eyes, your name. I checked out the new reports. Once I heard you speak, I knew you were an American, but I was spooked. I don’t run away from problems, I fix them. If anyone can save you, I can. But if I told my command I found you, I’d have to go to Captain’s Mass for going to a brothel, my career would be over, and then I’d never be able to get you out of here. And they would have to clear any rescue plans through the CIA and FBI, it could take months. I can’t just take you to the embassy with your pimp hanging around. The embassy is closed today anyway. I’m confident that I can rescue you; I just need some more info. So start talking.”

She still didn’t say a word.

I ran my hands over the scabs on her arms. “So the drugs, only heroin? How much do you do?”

Her voice trembled. “Yeah, heroin. Every other day or so. That’s all he gives me. I can’t stop, if that’s what you are asking. It’s the only happiness I have left.”

Right. I knew she was a junkie. Can’t say that I blamed her. “I get it. I’m not judging you. How long have you been in this brothel?”

“Don’t know. I’ve been traded a few times.” She paused and gave a blank stare. “Different islands, too. Aruba, Columbia, Venezuela. I guess in a way I’m lucky—my mom is Mexican-American and I speak Spanish so I didn’t stand out amongst the girls. When I was first kidnapped, they took me straight to Aruba for a year so I wouldn’t be found. But I was so fucked up, it’s all a blur.”

I had wondered how she’d survived so long. Her exotic looks and language skills must’ve helped her blend in with the other girls. “Are there any other American girls here?”

“Not anymore,” she deadpanned. “There was a girl here once, she’d been kidnapped during spring break in Aruba. Pretty, blonde, young. Her name was Nicole.”

Nicole Race? She’d disappeared on a family vacation a few years ago—I saw her name when I was researching Annie. Was last seen talking to a bartender at a popular tourist club in Aruba. Was finding these girls not a priority? Didn’t the FBI and CIA have intel out here? “Where is she?”

“Dead.” Her voice trembled. “She was my rock, took care of me when I first got here, hugged me after I was raped the first time, prayed with me every night that we would one day return home. This one time, we were convinced we were going to be saved. But once the months turned into years, she gave up. She O.D.’d, maybe even on purpose. If I ever get out of here, I promised her that I'd tell her family what happened to her.”

Annie brushed against my arm. I didn’t want to touch her any more than necessary to comfort her. I figured enough men over the years had fondled her. “What happened the morning you were taken?”

Her voice cracked. “Chris, uhm, my boyfriend—” she looked up at me. I nodded and she continued, “we went dancing in the cruise nightclub, got totally smashed. He got a bit jealous that I was singing on stage with the band but we didn’t fight or anything like that. We went back to the room and were so drunk—we didn’t even have sex. We just passed out on the bed. I woke up at around five and puked. I decided to get some fresh air on the balcony and watch the ship come into port. After around thirty minutes, I had an idea to take pictures of the sunrise on the deck. I didn’t want to wake Chris, so I just tiptoed past the bed and left the room. The drummer of the house band walked into my elevator. He told me he knew a spot on the ship for crew only where I could take the best pictures of the sunrise, so I went with him. Once I was up there, he knocked me out with chloroform, I think. When I woke up, I was on a ship to Aruba.”

Motherfuckers. I could feel my blood burn. But I needed to focus on the future, not the past. “Annie, this isn’t your fault. None of this. I hope you know that. Are you ever allowed outside the brothel?”

“No.” The little bit of color she had in her cheeks seemed to fade away. She wasn’t sure I could save her.

But I knew I could.

“Why’d you tell me your name?”

She stopped shaking and touched my face, tracing my beard with her fingers. Chills radiated through me. “Because you looked into my eyes and asked me. I knew you were an American. I was praying you were a Navy SEAL. I grew up in San Diego; used to watch the guys train in BUD/S on the beach in Coronado when I went to brunch at the Del with my parents.” She paused and her fingers made her way down to my neck, my arms. “Your full beard, your strong arms, your muscles, your long hair—I knew you weren’t just some typical sailor. Something about your eyes . . . sounds crazy, but I trusted you. Despite the fact that you’d just paid a hooker to give you a blowjob, I could tell that you were a good man. I’ve seen so many men and their eyes were dark, cold. Or worse, dead. But yours . . . I can’t explain it. They’re kind, but hurt, you know? For five years, I’ve held on to this fantasy that I’d be rescued. I prayed for you, I’ve dreamt of you. I just knew you were sent for me. You are my only hope.”

Whoa. That was heavy. This chick believed she willed me to save her, like some divine prophecy. I swallowed hard. This was getting intense. But I liked intense.

“You told the right man. And I’m glad you showed me your tattoo. Your parents have it plastered all over their website.”

She smirked. “To think my parents grounded me when they found out I got it. I used my fake ID and went to one of those tattoo shops in Pacific Beach. When they first saw it, they told me that I was an embarrassment to our good family name and that they were ashamed of me.”

Pretty harsh. Her parents seemed like pretentious jerks. I mean all eighteen-year-old girls experimented with their clothes, hair, makeup, piercings, tattoos. But her laughter made me smile. To think she could still find humor during her hell showed me how resilient she was. “I noticed it the second you showed it to me. I immediately thought, ‘Why would this Caribbean hooker have a tattoo of Arvid the Alien on her ankle?’”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you were paying attention to my ankle.” That made me feel like a grade-A asshole. “I figured if I did a good job,” she went on, “then maybe you would believe me.”

Was this girl serious? I expected her to be mellow, high, maybe even mental. But she was teasing me. I felt my pants get tighter and decided to change the subject.

“How many men secure this place?”

“Well Jose, who you met. And Berto also. A few other guys come around but I don’t think they’re armed.”

“I’ve taken men a thousand times more dangerous than them. Annie, I’m going to get you out of here, but I can’t do it today.” Her head started shaking but I continued. “I need to case the entire building, the surrounding area, get a car, find a safe house for you. Bring a few of my buddies. I need you to act normal. Do what they say. My ship is leaving Curaçao tonight for a mission, but I will come back for you, I promise.”

She pulled a fistful of her hair and rocked her head back on the cot. “No, please don’t leave me here. Take me with you. I know you can.” She rubbed her skin.

Hell if I was just going to lay there and watch her rock herself back and forth, like she was in some mental institute. She needed someone to comfort her, hold her, tell her that her nightmare would be over soon. I took her in my arms and flipped her on top of me. She nestled her head on my chest. “I won’t let you down, Annie. I will get you out of here and back to your family. I wish I could save you today but I can’t. My ship is heading out on a mission. I promise you that I’ll spend every moment figuring how to get you back to your family.”

Her breath quickened. “Please, Patrick. Please, take me now. I need to go home. I’m going to die here. I can’t take another day in this life. I’ll do anything you ask.”

She attempted to kiss my neck but I pulled away and sat up, holding her to my side.

“I have to leave. But I have something for you.” I rummaged through my pocket and retrieved the necklace, and placed it around her neck.

She gasped as if it was expensive jewelry, not a cheap fake gold chain with a starfish charm. I hoped if her pimps figured it had no value, she’d be more likely to be allowed to keep it.

I stroked her forehead. “Every time you look at it, know that I’m working on extracting you. You aren’t invisible—you’re invincible. I know you’re alive. I know your name. You’ve survived this long and I won’t let you down.” My pulse raced and I resisted the urge to kiss her lips. Her vulnerability was like a sword in the chest and a shot to my dick. I wanted to both protect her and fuck her and it was a combination that could get both of us killed.

Her voice cracked. “Please, take me. I’ll do anything. Don’t leave me here. I shouldn’t be here. You don’t understand—”

“I’m sorry, Annie. I have to go.”

“Patrick!” She started looking desperate, clutching me now. God, don’t freak out. Don’t give it all away! “If for some reason I never see you again, promise me you’ll tell Chris that I didn’t kill myself. And my parents that I love them.”

I firmly moved her hands off my chest. “You’ll be able to say whatever you want to your boyfriend and your parents yourself. Soon.” I never made promises I couldn’t keep. I couldn’t face her family if I couldn’t save her. Or her boyfriend. I could just imagine it—your girlfriend gave me head in a brothel but I didn’t save her. Not going to happen.

Her body was shaking. “What if I’m not here when you come back? What if they trade me?”

Fuck it. I pulled her to my mouth. Our lips touched, soft and tender. She needed solace, not passion. “Babe, I will find you. No matter what.”

“My word is my bond.”

She kissed me back, a desperate kiss. Her mouth hot and wet. She didn’t taste bitter and dry like I’d expected her to. No. She was salty and fruity, like a strawberry margarita. I wanted to drink her up, taste every inch of her body, pleasure her instead of forcing her to service me. I wanted to see a warm flush wash over her face and make her glow just for me. To make her come and scream out my name, and tell her that she’d be safe and never scared again. I wanted to protect her and promise her that as long as I lived, no man other than me would ever touch her again.

Instead I pushed her off of me, and rolled off the cot. I pressed one hundred dollars into her hand, opened the door, then walked out of her room, out of the brothel. Staying any longer would arouse suspicion and I couldn’t fuck this up for Annie.

Every step I took away from her tore me up inside. Why should I be safe when she was stuck here turning tricks? Hadn’t she been through enough hell for a lifetime? I should’ve knocked out her pimp and carried Annie to safety. But I needed to be patient to ensure the success of my mission.

“I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country.”

4.

I paced around the living quarters of our ship, which was on its way to our next mission. But I couldn’t even focus on anything but saving Annie.

I pulled Vic and Kyle into an empty rec room away from the rest of our Team.

Vic sat down in a chair. “Dude, what’s going on with you?”

I stared at the drab gray walls, hesitating to tell them.

Kyle glared at me. “Spill it, Walsh.” Kyle was a complete badass. He was one of only a handful of African-American men on the teams and unlike Vic and me, he was an officer. He’d been a star linebacker in the NFL, and gave up all that fame and money to join the Teams. There was a saying once on our recruiting posters, something like, “He’ll never win MVP, never get a Super Bowl ring—some heroes don’t play games.” Kyle was the living embodiment of that quote.

I didn’t want to speak. So I logged into the common computer and pulled up a website on Annie.

Kyle focused on the screen. “Yeah, Annie Hamilton. Everyone knows about her. Fine as fuck. Got drunk and fell overboard on a cruise ship out here. I think her stoner boyfriend pushed her over. She’s from San Diego. What’s your point?”

I took a deep breath. “She didn’t fall overboard on the cruise and her boyfriend is innocent; she gave me a blowjob last night at a brothel.”

Kyle laughed. “Sure she did.”

Vic shook his head at me, probably not sure whether or not I was joking. “Fuck you, man. She’s someone’s daughter. That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing. She was fucking kidnapped and forced into the white sex slavery. I went to a brothel last night, and this chick gave me head. Afterwards, she said her name was Annie Hamilton. I thought she was trying to con me, but it’s fucking her: hazel eyes, Californian accent. And she made a point to show me her shoulder scar and ankle tattoo. Here look at the pics.” I handed Kyle my phone and he scrolled through the pictures while Vic looked on.

“I went back today just to be one hundred percent sure. I’d fucking bet my Budweiser on it.”

The room fell silent. We didn’t joke about “The Budweiser,” our trident, our Navy Insignia. It was pinned on every Navy SEAL, after completing the BUD/S training,

“My Trident is a symbol of honor and heritage. Bestowed upon me by the heroes that have gone before, it embodies the trust of those I have sworn to protect. By wearing the Trident I accept the responsibility of my chosen profession and way of life. It is a privilege that I must earn every day.”

Kyle put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re serious. You fucking think you found Annie Hamilton in a Curaçao whorehouse?”

“She’s pretty wrecked, but alive. A heroin junkie barely holding on. It’s a miracle she’s survived these last five years. Now how are we going to get her out?”

Vic shook his head. “You fucked a hooker? That’s low even for you, Walsh. Go tell Lt. Marshall. You realize you’re going to get charged for solicitation.”

“Shut your fucking cock holster. Who the fuck do you think you are telling me what to do? You’re not my sea daddy. Of course, I know I can get charged, but I don’t give a shit. We need to save her. We’re fucking SEALs. No one else is going to do it. Don’t you see? I was meant to be on this deployment, this SEAL Team. To rescue her. But we aren’t going to tell Lt. Marshall—or anyone else on the Team, for that matter. The Navy would have to go through the proper channels, CIA, FBI, local Curaçao police. It’s too risky. There have been sightings of her before and no one did shit. I’m going to rescue her. You going to help me? Or you going to fucking rat my ass out to Lt. Marshall?”

Kyle didn’t hesitate. “I’m in.”

Vic bit his lip. “So am I.” I knew Vic would help, even though he liked to follow protocol.

Kyle put his hand on my back. “Yup. Not even worried. These dumbasses are jokes compared to the guys we usually deal with.”

He was right. I’d been in firefights with the Taliban, overtaken Somali pirates, and offed members of drug cartels. A low grade Caribbean white-slavery ring didn’t scare me.

“We train for war and fight to win.”

We had three weeks at sea to come up with a plan before we arrived back in Curaçao. She’d survived five years. I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t bring her home to her family, home to the United States. What was the point of being called a hero if I couldn’t save her? It didn’t matter that rescuing her wasn’t an official mission. She was my mission.

“We expect to lead and be led. In the absence of orders I will take charge, lead my teammates and accomplish the mission. I lead by example in all situations.”

5.

After three long weeks at sea, we would finally be returning to Curaçao. Tomorrow was game day.

I was glad that Kyle and Vic had my back. That’s the thing with Team guys, we’re more than brothers, we were bonded for life.

We headed down to the ship gym to get a last workout in before tomorrow. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I needed to control my emotions. I wanted to kill these motherfuckers and wouldn’t think twice before I popped them off.

We’d gone over the layout from the diagram I’d sketched when I returned from the brothel that night. We weren’t too worried about smuggling her out. The plan was to head over to the brothel at night, posing as clients. Once I was inside the room with Annie, Kyle and Vic would take down the pimp until I smuggled her out of there. We weren’t going to use force unless necessary.

“We demand discipline. We expect innovation. The lives of my teammates and the success of our mission depend on me – my technical skill, tactical proficiency, and attention to detail. My training is never complete.”

After we rescued her, we were going to detox her from heroin, and make sure she didn’t have any STDs. Vic was a medic. We’d arranged to borrow a yacht from a former Team guy who ran a charter service down in the Caribbean. Kyle would be our captain. All three of us had taken two weeks leave to rescue her, get her healthy, and take her to the embassy. There was no way I was going to send a drug addict to the embassy. Her parents had missed her for five years; they deserved to see their little girl as healthy as she could be.

Kyle smacked me on the head. “Shit, man. I don’t see why I can’t get laid with one of the other whores first and then we can save your girlfriend. I’ll be quick.”

I smacked him on the head. “Yeah, your ex mentioned your little problem. But sorry, not going to risk it. And she’s not my girlfriend.”

Vic shook his head, disgusted with us both. Kyle and I partied with the best of them, but poor Vic still hadn’t learned his lesson after his ex-wife had cheated on him. He harbored some fucked-up fantasy that he’d find a girl to be faithful to him when he was away. Some delusion that he might be able to have a marriage that defied the Navy SEALs infamous eighty percent divorce rate. Optimistic bastard.

“Whatever you say, man.” Vic laughed. “I know you. You’ve been obsessed with her since you met her. She’s all you’ve talked about for the past three weeks. Once you save her, she’ll worship you. You two will end up getting married. Mark my word. She’s from San Diego anyway—how convenient. Plus, you said yourself she gave great head. Sounds like a match made in hell week if you ask me.”

“Fuck you, Vic. I’m not saving her because I love her, I don’t even know her. I’m saving her because it’s the right thing to do.” But Vic’s words resonated with me. Annie was all I thought about. And though I hadn’t had more than a cheap sexual encounter and an awkward conversation with her, over the past month I’d learned everything I could about her— I’d watched childhood videos of her and her family, seen interviews of her parents crying and begging for her safe return. She’d wanted to be a teacher and had volunteered with a dog rescue. And though at first I saw her as just another woman who could satisfy me, now I couldn’t fight the desire to see her again. Even if it would be to watch her walk away in the end.

But I could never make any woman happy. I didn't understand why so many men felt the constant need to make pleasing women their sole mission in life.

But I wasn’t like that. It went deeper than that. I loved women. All women. My mom taught me never to disrespect a woman. I’d given my heart to one woman once, and she gutted me. All the times I was stuck in some hole in Afghanistan, dreaming about her, to think she was screwing around on me. I didn’t need that complication, my job was stressful enough. I needed my home life to be peaceful, because my line of work was anything but. The only men in the Teams who had successful marriages had women who were completely strong, honest, and loyal. It was hard to build that type of relationship when I was never home. So I chose to just be single until I retired. But I was still a man and had my needs. It didn't help that I was plagued by the memory of Annie’s mouth on my cock and her hands gripping my thighs as I came.

But enough of that relationship bullshit. I had to be steadfast—no matter what, I could not allow myself to give her any hope that we could be together.

I couldn't wait to get this the fuck over with. I tried not to think about what would happen after I deserted her at the embassy. If her family would treat her right, if her friends could look her in the face and keep from cringing. It wasn't my problem. She wasn't my problem. I would do my job and get her back to safety and then I would get the fuck out of there. I’d seen what the media did to these rediscovered treasures—they stalked them like celebrities. I could never be part of that media circus, not with my job, my life.

I’d fulfill my duty to her, keep my promise. But after that, she was on her own. She had a family waiting for her anyway. I could never fit into her life and she could never be a part of mine. She’d just have to forget she ever met me, just like I hoped she would forget all the torture she endured. And I could go back to living my life the way I liked to.

Alone.

6.

Our carrier pulled into port at sunrise. Had this been Annie’s last sight before she had been taken? Her desire to photograph its beauty had cost her freedom. Today, I would liberate her. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face once I’d saved her. All the training I’d gone through in my life had prepared me for this mission. And if we're being honest, I relished that feeling of accomplishment. It was the only thing in my life that made me feel better.

Vic, Kyle, and I left the ship and headed to the private dock to get our yacht.

We made our way through the maze of scuba tours, glass bottom boats, and moonlit cruises. A middle-aged bearded guy with a ponytail and a beer belly met us at the dock, dangling the keys.

“You must be Dave.” Kyle shook his hand, and Vic and I followed suit.

“Nice to meet you. The Cleito is all cleaned up and ready for you.”

I glanced at Vic and Kyle. The Cleito. In Plato’s myth of Atlantis, Cleito bore Poseidon ten sons. An obscure Navy SEAL trident reference, but we all understood the significance of the name instantly.

Dave handed me the keys. “So what are your plans? I know some great scuba spots.”

I placed the keys in my pocket. “Thanks, man. We’re just going to relax, go fishing, snorkel, maybe head to Aruba.”

Dave glared at our seabags, filled with our night-ops equipment. He was no dummy; former old-school frogman. He probably sensed that we were planning something other than checking out the local tropical fish...at least not the kind that swam in the sea. “Well, I’m happy to show you around. Anything you need.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“We will.” I eyed Kyle, who nodded toward me. We could trust this man. Any BUD/S class, any trident. He was one of us. Basically fucking family.

“Well, let me give you a tour.” He led us on the boat. It was no luxury yacht by any means but it would be perfect for our needs. Downstairs there was a small galley kitchen, upstairs there were two bedrooms—one with two twin beds and one with a queen, a bathroom, and a tiny living area. And a small area to relax up on top deck. I gave Kyle the keys and he fiddled around with the controls.

We spent the rest of the day stocking up the ship with food, drinks, and supplies. I’d bought Annie clothes, shoes, toiletries, magazines, some books. Wasn’t sure what she was into but I figured anything that could keep her mind off drugs and what she’d been through would be a good bet.

Hours later, the sun had finally set. We cleaned, loaded, and concealed our weapons.

I was ready to fuck some shit up.

Kyle stood up. “Let’s do this!”

Operation Rumpelstiltskin was ready to go down.

We’d all dressed casually. I had no fear—this was more like a training exercise than a mission.

Nothing could go wrong.

We walked down through the back alleys of Curaçao. A rush pulsed through my body. In less than an hour, Annie’s nightmare would be over and a whole new world would begin.

When we turned onto the street, I gasped. The brothel was nowhere in sight—instead, ashes were strewn across the ground, burnt mattresses collapsed in the street.

It was gone—she was gone.

I’d failed her.

Vic put his arm around my shoulder. “You sure this is the place?”

“Positive.”

Kyle sifted through the embers, eyes focused. “I’m sure she’s alive and they just moved her.”

My eyelids burned and I could feel the pulse in my throat.

A man walked by, wearing a watch that looked like the one I’d given the pimp.

I ran and shoved him against the next building. “Where did you get that fucking watch?”

He quivered, and once I got a closer look, I realized it wasn’t my watch.

Vic and Kyle dashed after me.

I released the man. “Sorry. My mistake.”

Vic stood in my personal space and made strong eye contact. “Pat, we’ll find her.”

I backed away from them, and started back into town.

If she were still alive, I would find her. Annie had survived this long. I just prayed she wouldn’t give up, because I would search every corner of this earth until I found her.

“I will never quit. I persevere and thrive on adversity.”

7.

We sat around in the yacht and hatched a plan over beer and pizza. I had two weeks to find her. Two weeks until we were due back on our carrier where we would deploy to the Middle East. By then she would be lost forever. And so would I. There was no more room for errors.

Kyle always tried to take charge. “It’s easy. Let’s just go and ask around town until someone talks. Or we can ask Dave for help. He knows this area.”

“It’s not that easy.” I took a swig of my beer and studied the breaking waves. “I don’t want to involve Dave. We don’t know him. We can’t raise suspicion. They could kill her if the wrong person found out.”

Vic nodded in agreement. “We should tell Lt. Marshall. Just go through the channels. That’s the best way.”

Kyle and I exchanged a glance. I’d already informed Vic that telling our command wasn’t an option. Especially now—I’d wasted enough time.

“I fucked up. I should’ve told you guys the night I met her. We could’ve gotten her the next night when I went back. Now it'll be on my shoulders if she ODs or winds up in a ditch.”

Kyle grabbed another slice of pizza. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. We had to get back on the ship that night. What the fuck could we have done? Save her and then just drop her off somewhere? And don't be suck a fucking pussy. She didn’t get moved because you came back. They move these girls all the fucking time.”

I knew that, she’d even told me that. But I hadn’t listened. Too cocky, and now I didn’t have a fucking clue where she was.

I stood up. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t have to explain myself. Vic and Kyle pounded back their beers, polished off their pizza, and we left.

We weaved in and out of the underbelly of Curaçao. Must’ve hit up a dozen more brothels. It was so fucking depressing. Some of the whores couldn’t have been older than fourteen. The older ones reeked of desperation. Dead eyes, bruised bodies, drugged minds.

But there was no sign of Annie.

We found another joint; this one was more similar to the one I’d met Annie at. But again, she was nowhere in sight. More importantly, at all of these brothels, I never recognized any of the other girls who’d worked with Annie. I knew that they couldn’t have all just vanished into the night. They had to be somewhere. Unless they were six feet under.

Kyle disappeared into one of the rooms with a girl. He said he was going to ‘take one for the team’ so we didn’t arouse suspicions.

When he emerged from the room, he had a big smile on his face.

“Was she that good?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t know. I couldn’t bear to fuck her, just in case she was another American and I’d have to deal with this shit. So she just gave me a hand job. Not half bad but I do a better job myself. Anyway, I told her I had fucked this amazing whore at the brothel that had burnt down. She said she’d heard that a bunch of girls were just moved to Aruba.” He smirked. "Told you I'd take one for the Team."

“Let’s go.” I pressed my palms downward; this time I didn’t want to be overly confident. The cool Caribbean breeze calmed my mind. Annie had mentioned she’d been transferred to Aruba once. Made sense that she was back there now.

Aruba was a mere sixty-nine miles away.

Pictures of Annie in various situations raced through my mind. Annie being raped by some sweaty fat ass with tentacle hands and bad breath. Annie shooting up and stoned out of her mind on the dirty floor of a dark room. Annie being beaten by an overenthusiastic pimp with a heavy hand and no one to protect her. Annie crying alone at night because she'd finally given up hope that I would find her.

Over the years, I’d participated in many missions. Accomplishing them gave me a great sense of pride for my country, but I’d never felt as connected to a mission as I did to this one. I was meant to be in the brothel that night, to choose her, to ask her name. Even my ex-fiancée cheating on me led me to that moment, that decision, because if she had been faithful, I would be married to her and would’ve never set foot in a brothel. I may have many character flaws, but cheating was not one of them.

I would not fail Annie. I don't fail.

“I am never out of the fight.”

8.

We survived a rocky boat ride to Aruba. This neighboring island had the same vibe as Curaçao: tropical, humid, colorful. My eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and not even the black tar that Kyle claimed was coffee could wipe the fog from my brain. A restless night on the piece of shit boat coupled with vivid nightmares of Annie's fate had me feeling edgy and irritable. I couldn't relax until we'd gotten this shit done.

With the boat safely docked in a slip, the three of us made our way through the energetic market, elbowing through hoards of tourists and locals hocking their wares. The sun was already baking a sea of bodies on the stretch of beach and though I wore faded jeans and a frayed t-shirt with a cap pulled low over my eyes, I felt the heat heavy on my skin. I couldn't stop Vic from donning a tacky Hawaiian shirt, his attempt to dress like a tourist. Vic followed at a distance, strolling leisurely from shop to shop along the beachfront road.

We’d rented a car and reserved a hotel room in the middle of town. Until we found her, we wanted to make sure that we were staying in the center of the tourist hub so we could do our best to blend in with the throngs of visitors.

At night, Kyle, Vic, and I set out again, scouring the red lights. The ones in Aruba seemed more upscale than the ones in Curaçao. Most were set up like bars. Men could sit and order drinks at little tables and chat up the hookers. I guess that was great for the men who liked to pretend that these women were actually interested in them, instead of admitting that they were paying for sex. I preferred to be honest with my intentions so I never needed to play any games or delude myself any more than I already did.

But after another long night of too many drinks and too bright neon lights, we’d come up empty-handed. No Annie.

Kyle convinced Vic and I to cool off at the hotel bar, Enrique & Richie’s. It was dark and pulsed with loud music, heavy on the bass. Spring break was out in full force. Coeds writhed on the small dance floor with candy-colored drinks and short skirts paired with bikini tops. Most were already halfway to blitzed and I couldn't help but wonder if one of them would be the next Annie.

Vic and Kyle hit on girls at the bar, but I was too fucking depressed to make small talk. I sat alone at a table in the corner, drinking whiskey. Why should I be out having fun in paradise, while Annie was turning tricks in hell?

Think, motherfucker. What am I missing?

My mind drifted, and I zoned out listening to the Calypso music. The beat of the steel drums shook my shot glass.

Steel. Drums.

Annie had said that the last thing that she’d remembered the morning she had been taken was that the drummer entered into her elevator and drugged her. And the other American girl who went missing, Nicole Race, had been last seen at this bar. Annie had even said she knew Nicole, but Nicole had overdosed. This couldn’t just be a coincidence.

I glanced over to the drummer and my eyes narrowed. A larger than life man with piercing dark eyes; he wore a pink shirt and played those drums as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Kyle was busying grinding some girl on the dance floor, so I told Vic that I’d meet him back in the room because I wanted to take a walk. He gave me a look, like he thought I was up to something, and asked if I wanted them to come with me. When I said no, he just nodded.

I made my way to the alley near the back of the club. There was a van parked there. A tree was painted on its side door with the words Divi Divi underneath. I moved my rental car around the corner. When the band left, I’d be ready to follow them.

Hours passed. I was tired as fuck but didn’t so much as close my eyes to risk sleep. Staying up casing this van was easy compared to the training I’d endured. In BUD/S Hell Week, I’d survived on only four hours of sleep in five and a half days. To this day, every time I was tired during a mission, I could hear my instructors’ words echo in my head, taunting us, trying to get us to ring the bell three times and quit. “Anybody who quits right now gets hot coffee and doughnuts. Come on, who wants a doughnut? Who wants a little coffee?”

I needed a pick me up. I sprinkled some instant coffee into a water bottle. Time to hurry up and wait.

Eventually, the five-member band loaded up all their equipment in the van. But instead of taking off, they milled around, talking and smoking, no sense of urgency at all.

Another half an hour passed. Finally, they climbed into the van. When it pulled out on to the street, I slowly followed behind them, keeping my distance.

After a few miles along the road, the van stopped in front of a one-story plantation-style house. It wasn’t one of the brothels we’d investigated—I wasn’t even sure if it was a brothel at all. No sign, no man out front, just a door with some metal bars on it and some lights in the windows.

Could Annie be in there?

The men got out. Four of them took off in a different parked vehicle. Then the door to the house opened and the drummer walked inside and greeted another man.

I took out my binoculars and his face came into focus. It was that pimp. The one with my watch, I was sure of it.

Fuck. Annie had to be in there. But was it a brothel? A drug den? Maybe it was a holding place where they drugged up the women before they moved them elsewhere. And how many men? I could see two: the pimp and drummer. But as far as I could tell, only the pimp was armed.

I drove my car around the building. In a window to the back, I could see a girl stare out the window. She had dark hair but even with my binoculars that was all I could make out because she had left the window so quickly. Was she Annie? My gut told me she was, but there was only one way to find out.

I needed my men and my night-ops equipment. I drove off back to the hotel, careful to mark the path in my mind.

I couldn’t wait another day, another chance for them to move her. We had to move in tonight.

9.

I flipped the light on in the hotel. Kyle was passed out in the bed next to some blonde girl, Vic was crashed on the sofa in the small living area. I knew the drill—if one of us was going to get lucky, he’d head up to the room first. We’d hobble in later when the coast was clear and crash on the floor, giving the loving couple the bed. Of course, Vic never did that to us. He was a serial monogamist. We’d always tease him, but I was starting to think Kyle and me were the ones who were fucked up and Vic had the right idea. I wouldn’t be in this mess now if I hadn’t given in to my needs, but then again I would’ve never found Annie.

I nudged Kyle. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt. But we need to go.”

Kyle understood. He rolled over to the girl. “Hey, sweetheart. Sorry, but I need to help my buddy out.”

The girl nodded, almost looked hurt. She reached for her clothes and grabbed them off the floor on the side of the bed. I couldn’t help but stare at her naked body. Great ass, perky tits, nice tan skin. She slipped her panties on, then her jeans, and pulled a pink tank top over her head. She either hadn’t been wearing a bra or didn’t bother to look for it. Kyle gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you. We’ll be in town for two weeks.”

Kyle actually might call. He straddled the line of commitment-phobe and romantic. His usual M.O. was to start a fling with a girl, swear that she was the one, then vanish when it got intense, which it always did. Everything we did was intense. Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have a mellow job, a relaxed life.

I gave the girl an awkward wave. But because I was paranoid about Annie, I decided to speak. “Where you staying?”

“Oh, a hotel down the road. I’m fine to walk.”

Fuck that. “We’ll take you.”

She looked at Kyle. “No, I’m okay. Really. It’s just a few blocks.”

Kyle got dressed. “No, Pat’s right. Sorry, I was about to offer but I was just groggy. We’ll drive you.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.”

She slipped into the bathroom. I signaled to the guys to get their guns and night op gear.

“It’s on.”

Vic slipped on his gun. “You found her.”

“Not sure but think so. Her pimp is there.”

“Good enough for me.” Kyle loaded his pistol and gathered the bag full of our gear. “Hooyah!”

Kyle’s girl walked out of the bathroom, her mascara smudged. But at that moment, I didn’t see this nameless girl, I saw Annie. Annie’s eyes. In one careless, drunken night, Annie’s world had changed forever. Spring break, five years ago, a night like this. The girl that stood before me, she didn’t know that Kyle was a good guy. That the three of us weren’t going to gang rape her. But this girl took a chance, a chance on him, a chance with us. In a foreign country, with different laws. These girls had false senses of security, that they were invincible. But all it took was one wrong drink, one wrong man, and they could end up dead, or in a living hell. Just like Annie.

We headed out of the hotel and piled into the small rental car. We dropped the girl off at her hotel room, Kyle walking her in to make sure she was safe.

He climbed back into the car. “So what’s the plan?”

“Well, we’re going to go back and case the place. Not sure after that and I’m not even sure Annie is there.”

This amateur rescue attempt was so different than the missions we usually went on as a Team. We just had to clear the house, like we’d done many times in Afghanistan. These traffickers probably only cared about drugs and money; they weren’t going to try to start an international incident just to keep a girl that they’d kidnapped five years ago. Chances were, they were looking for a way to get rid of her anyway. Not that I was going to attempt to reason with them.

We parked a block away from the building and snuck up outside the door. It seemed quiet inside and the lights were off. They’d probably be asleep already. I wanted this to be clean.

“I think she’s in that room. Second window to the left.”

“Let’s check it out.”

I was a non-practicing Catholic. Even so, every time I went on a mission, I recited the Family Prayer from my favorite movie, Boondock Saints.

“And Shepherds we shall be

For thee, my Lord, for thee.

Power hath descended forth from Thy hand

Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee

And teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti.”

Amen. Let’s roll.

Stealthily, we left the car and snuck around the building. I heard a dog bark in the distance. Kyle and Vic stood watch alongside me as I used my night vision goggles to peer into the window.

There was a small cot in the room. Annie was curled up asleep on it.

I signaled to my men. There were bars on her window. We couldn’t just grab her. We had to go through the back door.

“The execution of my duties will be swift and violent when required yet guided by the very principles that I serve to defend.”

We had no intention to kill her captors. Our only goal was to save Annie.

Gun and scope out, Kyle touched the door; it was unlocked. He pushed it in, Vic and I were right behind him.

As they scanned for men, I crept to Annie’s door.

She was sound asleep. If I woke her, would she scream? She was probably high. I scooped her limp body in my arms and raced her out of the room before she could wake.

Her eyes opened, startled. But she didn’t say anything; just gave me a silent smile and wrapped her arms around my neck. My heart almost pounded out of my chest. Recognition lit those hazel orbs and instead of screaming like I feared. Her trust almost brought me to my knees.

Vic threw a flash bang. The stun grenade detonated. A blinding light and booming sound would render her captors helpless so we could make our escape.

Once outside the room, I saw the pimp cowering in the corner. The drummer was reaching for his gun but clearly disoriented.

It wasn’t worth the risk.

I turned toward Kyle. “Send it.”

Kyle killed them both, two shots to the head, two shots to the heart.

Done. Let’s get the fuck out of here.

Vic went in front of me and Kyle had my back. I walked out of that house, holding Annie. My heartbeat drummed in my chest.

She was finally free.

We dashed into the car, then hightailed it out of there.

“My Nation expects me to be physically harder and mentally stronger than my enemies. If knocked down, I will get back up, every time. I will draw on every remaining ounce of strength to protect my teammates and to accomplish our mission.”

We’d done it. “Annie, you’re safe. They’re dead. You’re free.”

Her eyes, which had seemed so disturbed on the night that I had met her, were soft, almost filled with an inner glow. She teared up, holding my hand and refusing to let go. But I didn’t want to let go of her either. I meant what I’d said: I wanted to make sure that Annie’s pain had ended for good and that I would always be there to protect her. But I knew that our time together would be short. And I couldn’t be responsible for someone else’s safety when I’d be fighting a war a world away.

10.

We took Annie straight to the yacht and got the fuck out of Aruba. Kyle started up the boat and we headed back to Curaçao. I was grateful that I didn’t have to be alone with Annie. I wanted to focus on her recovery and not any feelings she might develop toward me since I’d rescued her.

She hadn’t said much on the car ride, just sat there dazed and crying. Overwhelmed, no doubt.

Once we boarded the ship, I took Annie up to the living area. “Annie, these are my friends, Kyle and Vic. Vic’s a medic; he’s going to help detox you. I bought you clothes and supplies.”

She blinked rapidly, scanning the tiny room. She wore a tattered shirt that skimmed her thighs and black panties. She was skinny, almost deathly so. She swayed with the movement of the boat, a little disoriented, probably in shock, confused. Her flat black hair hung around her face and she hugged her arms tight to her chest. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper and cracked with emotion. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I can’t ever thank you enough. I never, ever thought . . .”

She bit her lip in an attempt to stop the tears that shone in her eyes. She looked vulnerable and doll-like in the soft light of the room. I pulled her to me and just held her close, her small frame tucked into my large one. She felt fragile in my huge arms, breakable. I took a steadying breath to stem the rising urge to keep her there, a feeling that pissed me off as much as it confused me.

“Hey, why don’t you take a shower? We aren’t going anywhere.”

She didn't respond for a few moments, instead she tucked herself more closely into my embrace. I was loath to let her go, enjoying the feel of her soft body against mine when she took a step back. She walked slowly into the bathroom and shut the door.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't know what the fuck I’d expected her reaction to be. I guess I thought she’d be running around ecstatic, kissing and hugging me, but her dull calm threw me. I had to remind myself that she was an addict, and that the reality of her freedom hadn’t sunk in for her yet.

I opened my duffel and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, throwing back a quick shot straight from the bottle. What the fuck had I gotten us into?

If this had been a movie, we would’ve whisked her to the embassy, her parents waiting to greet her. I’d have a hero’s welcome. We’d profess our love to each other and go on to live happily ever after.

But this wasn’t a movie. This rescue was off the books. There was no embassy in Aruba—the closest one was in Curaçao—and it was closed because it was the middle of the night and on a weekend. And our victim was a heroin-addicted prostitute.

Vic took meds out of his bag. “So it’s going to be rough, especially for the next seventy-two hours. We’ll keep her comfortable.”

I heard the shower water run. What was going through her head now? Her family, her friends, me?

Kyle laughed. “Dude, you pulled this off. Do you get how crazy this shit is? I mean, she’s been missing for five years, presumed dead. I never doubted you. Are you going to claim the reward?”

Three hundred thousand dollars. I made around sixty thousand a year. A pittance considering the fact that I risked my life every day. Killed for my country. Could die for my country. I could use that money. I could buy my mom a nicer house. Maybe save up some for my retirement, when I’d probably be so physically and mentally fucked up that I wouldn’t be able to hold down a job. But I didn’t want a cent. That's not why I did what I did. Why any of us did.

“Nope. Not going to touch it. I hope to hell Annie will keep our involvement out of the press. But I’m prepared to face the consequences if our command finds out.”

“Take responsibility for your actions and the actions of your teammates.”

We’d already covered this ground—I wouldn’t have brought them into this if I were going to go shouting about it from the rooftops—but it was done now and they needed to know I was committed to that.

“Well, I doubt they’d discipline us for saving an American girl who was sex trafficked. The media would have a field day with that. ‘Navy SEALs punished for saving America’s Sweetheart.’ I say you collect the reward. I’ll take my share. I need a new truck.”

“What-the-fuck-ever, man. You’re loaded with all your NFL money. Anyway, not going to happen.”

“I do not advertise the nature of my work nor seek recognition for my actions.”

Annie emerged from the bathroom, her hair wet, her skin bluish. She sat at the table and ate some chips we had out.

Kyle, Vic, and I just sat there in silence, staring. What the fuck do we do now?

After a sip of water, she burst in tears.

I went over and sat next to her. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I don’t know what to do, who I am. I mean, I’m a drug addict. I’m a prostitute. My family won’t want me back. Look at me! To get a clean vein I’ve been shooting up in my feet! What man is ever going to love a former hooker?”

Fuck. I had mentally prepared myself for her anxiety and detox, but I didn’t want to give her any false hope. Being rescued was the easy part; she would need to rebuild her life.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I needed her to hear me. “No man is going to judge you for something that was beyond your control. And your parents love you. They’ve been looking for you non-stop. I’m sure they’ll help you every step of the way. We’re going to detox you here; I have this boat for two weeks. Then I’m going to take you to the embassy. But we need to get you healthy first.”

Her chin quivered. “I can’t. I need it.”

I pulled her chair to me. “You survived five years of unspeakable hell. You can do this. We’re going to help you. I won’t leave your side.”

Vic took her into the bathroom, tested her for STDs, HIV, and pregnancy. The tests gave instant results, and we were all grateful and, well, shocked when she tested negative for everything. Vic rationed out her drug cocktail: immodium, suboxone, Xanax, vitamins, potassium. He gave her the first dose and she downed the pills with a glass of water.

I held her hand. “I think you should sleep if you can.”

She nodded her head and leaned into me. I picked her up off the chair and carried her to the bedroom with the queen bed. I’d planned to crash on the floor next to her. I pulled a blanket from the closet and set it down on the floor for me.

“Patrick, can you hold me?”

I couldn’t say no. It was her first night free in five years. She needed me to get her through her transition. “Sure.” I wrapped my arms around her and she cuddled up into my chest and fell asleep. I felt like if I moved at all, I’d break her. She was fragile, small, and weak. She rolled over and I was spooning her, her tight ass grinding against my cock. This was going to be a long night.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent the night in bed with a woman instead of darting away in the middle of the night. I fought sleep as long as I could, looking over at the slight girl in my arms, praying that she would be okay.

11.

The bed shook and awoke me from sleep. My first thought was that it was an angry wave, but it was Annie shaking. She ran to the bathroom and vomited. Vic gave her more meds and she calmed down for a bit. He went to the living area to watch satellite television and Kyle was on the deck manning the ship.

I warmed some chicken broth in a mug and handed her a banana, which was about the extent of my cooking skills. “You need to eat. Here.”

She took a sip of the broth and relaxed into the chair. “I thought I was dreaming. I can’t believe I’m really free. When we moved islands, I thought that my one chance was gone forever. How did you find me?”

I studied the girl sitting in front of me. She already looked different to me than she had when I’d last seen her in the brothel. She seemed lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her soul. But her skin was pale and her hair was lifeless. She still had a long way to go before she fully returned to the land of the living. “I went back to the brothel in Curaçao— it was burnt to the ground. We searched the island for you and Kyle got a tip that you girls were moved to Aruba so we came here but couldn’t find you. You’d told me that the last thing you remembered on the ship was being in the elevator with that drummer. He was playing at a bar and I followed him. I thought I saw you in the window, so I took a chance and here we are.”

Sweat dripped from her forehead. “That’s amazing. You’re amazing. How can I ever thank you? My dad, he has money. . .”

I raised my hand up. “Stop. I’m not interested in money. In fact, the only way you can thank me is never mentioning our involvement in your rescue.”

She winced. “Oh, okay. I get it. You don’t want to be associated with me. I understand.”

“That’s not it. We all need to be anonymous to do our jobs in the Teams. And this was off record; we didn’t get permission from our command. We could get disciplined and ruin our careers.”

Her eyes closed and her jaw was shaking. “So I have to lie about how I was rescued?”

“I’m not asking you to lie. But I’d prefer you leave our names out of it. Our names and pictures can’t be plastered over the media or we’ll get kicked out of the Teams. We can’t exactly go undercover if the world knows our identities.”

She took a small bite of the banana. “I get it. I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”

I touched her shoulder. “Hey. Don’t say that. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry about any of it. How I met you, that you told me your name, that I found you. I’m only sorry that I didn’t torture the motherfuckers who took you.” I paused … Did I owe her an apology for hiring her to blow me? “Look Annie, I’m not an asshole. I’m a SEAL. I was meant to be in that brothel that night, to find you, to save you. We’d been deployed for seven months, I don’t have a girlfriend or a wife. I’m not a cheater. I didn’t mean to disrespect you or anything.”

She laughed. And for the first time I saw a sexy glint in her eye. “Don’t apologize. You saved me. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe I even enjoyed it.” She glanced down at my pants.

I had to remind myself that she wasn’t flirting with me—that her words came from some kind of survival mechanism where she was probably taught to come on to the clients to get better tips. My thoughts turned to how great it would feel to have her moist mouth wrap around me again. I tried to push the memory of the blowjob she had given me out of my head.

Her eyes seemed distant. “Kyle didn’t have to kill Jose.”

“Are you fucking serious? I wished I’d popped that motherfucker myself, but I was carrying you. My only goal was to get you out of there. How can you even say that?”

I couldn’t read her. Her mouth was turned downward in a frown yet she was nodding her head. “Jose wasn’t that bad compared to the others. He took care of me.”

This poor fucking girl was identifying with her aggressor. I’d studied that shit. “Annie, he was a fucking pimp. He sold you.”

“I know. But sometimes he was nice to me." She laughed and it was hollow. "Sorry, it’s just hard for me.”

Jesus, this girl needed some serious psychotherapy. I knew she’d be messed up, but she seemed to care more about Jose’s well-being than her own.

“Can I go on the deck?”

“Of course. You don’t have to ask me permission to do anything. You’re safe here. They aren’t going to find you. But you’re not leaving this boat under any circumstances. Once you’re better, we’ll take you straight to the embassy.”

Pushing herself off the chair, she walked over to me and kissed me on the cheek. “I know I’m safe. You’re here.”

She climbed down the stairs to the deck and just stood there in the breeze, breathing in the Caribbean air. I wanted to ask her a thousand questions, about her life before she was taken, about the horror she had endured, but I was in too deep already.

12.

“Pat! Pat!” I jumped up from the floor. Annie was pacing around the cabin.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Her hands trembled, her teeth clattered. “I need a fucking fix. Can you get me some smack? Maybe we can sail back and find a dealer. Just a little? I can’t do this. I can detox at home! My dad will send me to one of those Hollywood country club kind of rehabs.”

“No fucking way am I going to score you dope. And if you haven’t fucking noticed, we’re in the middle of the goddamn ocean.”

Vic opened the door to our room and tried to hand her more meds, but she pushed them out of his hand and they scattered on the floor.

Vic bent over to grab them but I stopped him. “Pick them up,” I said calmly but firmly.

“You can’t fucking tell me what to do,” she hissed. Her pupils were dilated and she had sweat beads on her forehead.

Kyle came in from the living area. He was about to speak, but I signaled to him that I would handle it.

I still didn’t raise my voice. “I said pick them up, Annie. Don’t make me ask you again.”

She cackled. “I don’t have to listen to you. You don't fucking own me. You’re no hero—so fucking pathetic you have to pay for a blowjob from a whore. You’re no better than my pimp. At least he kept me high. At least he could stomach fucking me. I know you want me. What the fuck is your problem? Can’t get it up?”

My muscles quivered. I wasn’t going to engage with her. She was detoxing. I had to remind myself this was normal.

“Pick them up now! That’s a fucking order.”

She spat in my face then crawled on the floor and got the pills. This wasn’t Annie, this was Star. Like a fucking Jekyll and Hyde.

Vic handed her water and she downed the pills. Then she went into the bathroom, slammed the door, and started the shower.

“She’ll be fine. You guys can go back to bed.”

Kyle spoke in a quiet voice. “This is normal, man. My cousin went through this. He fucking jumped off a balcony trying to score.”

I gave a heavy nod. I couldn’t imagine having her family see her like this. So I accepted this project with no reservations.

Seventy-two hours had passed. The paranoia had set in; her withdrawal was brutal to watch. She flipped from being a sweet yet reserved girl to a paranoid drug fiend. Through it all, I just was there for her, gave her anything she needed except heroin, talked her down from the highs, up from the lows.

“The ability to control my emotions and my actions, regardless of circumstance, sets me apart from other men.”

Her behavior didn’t upset or concern me. I knew she would get through this. She'd gotten through worse.

Kyle, Vic, and I were crammed in the living area, watching television. It didn’t even bother my brothers that they had given up their entire vacation leave to help this girl. I was thankful for them, for my training, for my ability to have the tactical skills to save Annie.

Annie awoke and walked into the living area. Vic handed her water and her meds, and she just pushed back her crazy hair and gave me that crooked smile I had first noticed in the lineup that day.

“How you feeling?” I didn’t know which Annie she would be today.

She nodded her head. “Good. Better. I’m sorry about the other night.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Vic and Kyle headed down to the deck. I wanted to go and hang out with them.

Her eyes narrowed at me. “Why are you doing this, Pat?”

“Doing what?”

“Helping me detox. You could’ve just dumped me at the embassy like this.”

I hated being questioned about my motives. “Your parents have been through enough; I didn’t want them to see you like this. It’s the right thing to do.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to take me to the embassy and I’ll never see you again?” Her voice trailed off.

“Yup. That’s the plan.” Truth was, I was stationed in Coronado, so when I came off deployment, I could technically see her again. Her family lived nearby in Encinitas. But that wouldn’t be a good idea. I trained sometimes eighteen hours a day and spent my time off at SEAL watering holes, like Danny’s Palm Bar & Grill. She wouldn’t find me hanging out at the country club with her friends, that was for damn sure.

“What’s your deal? Why don’t you have a girlfriend or a wife? You’re a SEAL. All my sorority sisters would always go SEAL hunting in Coronado and drop their panties in seconds if there were any sightings. You’re gorgeous, sexy, selfless…. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

Tell that to my ex. “I’m just not interested. Not until I retire. I can’t be responsible for anyone else when I’m thousands of miles away. And I could die. I wouldn’t want to leave a kid without a dad, like mine did to me.”

“He was a SEAL, too?”

“No. He was a piece of shit who couldn’t take any responsibility for his actions.”

She put her hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. But I pushed it off. “I need to get some fresh air. I’ll be on the deck if you need anything.”

She shrugged her shoulders and just lay back in the bed and pulled the covers over her head.

I needed a break from her, from this intensity. I just wanted everything to be normal, my normal, before I’d ever set foot in that brothel.

Safe on the deck, Vic handed me a beer. “You good?”

“Yup.” I took a sip and sat down. I didn’t even know how to process all the emotions I was going through. It had been so long since I’d had to think about a woman’s fucking feelings.

Kyle grabbed his own beer and sat next to me. “So have you hit that yet?”

Vic just shook his head. “What this fucker means is that you aren't getting too close, are you?”

“Fuck that, Vic. I just want to know if he’s gotten laid. We’re trapped out in the middle of the ocean, with only one girl and three of us. If I’m not getting any, at least he should be. I mean, you’re sleeping in the same room with her every night. Those walls are thin but damned if I don’t hear any headboards banging.”

“You’re both fucking idiots. I’m not in love and I'm not going to fuck her. Not now, not ever. She’s got someone waiting anyway. Probably. He says he is.”

Kyle laughed. “That chump girly-man surfer? Please. He can’t compete with you. You’re a motherfucking SEAL, asshole.”

Vic motioned his hand toward me as if he was my fucking therapist. “So you are trying to tell me you have no feelings for her? At all?”

“That’s what I’m saying. I don’t know her, really. I mean, half the time she’s out of her mind crazy, detoxing. The other half she’s all moody and withdrawn. She’s hot, for sure, but I don’t have a clue who she is. I don't even think she knows who she is.”

“So you haven’t slept with her?” Kyle asked.

“Are you deaf? What the fuck did I just say? I mean, I fucking met her at a brothel and paid her to blow me. I seriously doubt she’s interested in any man after what she’s been through.”

Vic put his arm around me. “You’re a good man, Walsh. When you get back to San Diego, you guys can meet up again and see if you have any common ground.”

“Not going to happen. I don't want to remind her of this. I was one of her clients. She needs someone stable. And that's sure as hell not me."

“But you deserve to be happy. Not all girls are going to cheat on you like Marissa did.”

“Whatever, man. Your wife cheated on you too. I don’t know anyone in the Teams with a good marriage. And it’s not just about that. Annie is so messed up. She’s going to need a man who can be with her, take care of her, protect her. I can never be that man.”

Kyle pounded his beer and looked toward the guest quarters. “That’s the thing. You rescued her. You’ve been taking care of her. You’re already that man, whether you like it or not.”

Shit. I came up here to relax. Now I just wanted to jump overboard. Fucking idiots.

The three of us had spent so many hours together in silence, watching targets, waiting for action. They knew me better than I knew myself. I couldn’t deny the connection I had with Annie, the sense that we were meant to find each other. I wasn’t talking about some crappy romantic movie insta-love, just this intense feeling we were destined to be in each other’s lives. I saved her. That was enough for me.

The gentle waves rocked beneath me. I lay down under the stars and drifted to sleep.

13.

A few days later, I woke when I heard the thump of Annie throwing herself out of bed. I shot straight up, adrenaline pulsing through my veins and putting me on high alert. She rolled on the ground from her back to her feet and looked around, her hair and eyes wild from sleep and haze.

“I can't fucking do this, Pat. Her nails raked at the skin on her forearms. She rubbed a palm on her thigh.  “I can't. I can't. It's too hard. You can take me back, I don't fucking care. I need it. It hurts.”

She crumpled to her knees and I winced at the sound of bone grating against the rough wood floor, the sound of her breathless sobs. I crouched beside her and laid a hand against her back that was clammy with sweat. Annie shrieked at my touch and cringed backwards.

“Don't fucking touch me!” The sound of her scream echoed off the walls of the room, rang in my ears. “Don't touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me.”

But I didn’t give up that easily.

She shivered. I wrapped her in a blanket and held her. She resisted at first but relaxed in my arms. Her eyes seemed to roll back in her head for a second, which made me nervous, even though I’d done my research and knew that it was normal. I kissed her forehead and rocked her to sleep.

She had her rough days, days where she didn’t want to get out of bed, screaming, crying, and pleading for her next fix. But she got through it. It was brutal to watch her suffering, her body quivering. But the heroin had finally left her body, like a ghost of her nightmare.

Tonight was our last night together. Tomorrow, I would walk her into the embassy when it opened, and then Kyle, Vic, and I would return to our navy carrier. To our life. To our next mission. Without her. Without Annie.

For our last night we had ported in Curaçao, though I wouldn’t let Annie get off the yacht and risk her being seen. Kyle and Vic had gone into town. They’d both be back later, but for the first time since this ordeal had begun, Annie and I were alone.

Matchmaker Vic had brought in food from a local restaurant, since he figured she hadn’t had a good meal in years. A bottle of merlot, two New York strip steaks, mashed potatoes, and chocolate cake for dessert. I guess it was kind of a celebration. A toast to getting her life back.

We sat at the tiny table in the corner of the room. I plugged in my phone so we had some music—classic rock not classical. I wasn’t trying to set a seduction scene however much my dick wanted me to—for now I just wanted to have a nice dinner. Annie sat across from me, her hair pulled back into a low bun. I felt like I was on a first date.

I poured her a glass of wine. Time to make small talk. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?”

She lifted the glass to her mouth and pressed her lips onto it. I wanted her lips to press on me. “Oh, I don’t know. Sounds weird, but I don’t want to see my friends for a while. I’m sure they’re all going to act weird around me, or ask me all sorts of crazy questions that I don’t want to answer. Nicole used to joke that if we ever got rescued, it would be like winning the super bowl. You know, ‘You’ve just won the super bowl. What are you going to do next? I’m going to Disneyland.’ But that’s not really my thing. I’d love to go to Lake Tahoe, rent a cabin, hike around the lake. Something outside. I’ve been locked up for so long, just get out, walk, hike, stroll on the beach. Be free.”

Funny. That’s exactly what I liked to do in my free time. Anything out in nature, hiking, camping, exploring. I loved Lake Tahoe—my mom made sure that even though money was always tight, she would save up enough for us to spend a week in a crappy motel there every summer.

“Oh, I also want to adopt a dog.”

“I’ve got a dog, Trigger. He was one of our military dogs in Iraq. He’s a German Shepherd. Retired. Great dog.”

“That’s cool. I wish I could meet him.” She pushed her food around her plate. “Pat, I’m scared of going home. I just wish I could stay here on this yacht.”

“That's not what I would call freedom, being stuck in the middle of the ocean. Why are you scared? Your parents are going to be thrilled to see you. I can’t imagine their pain.” I paused. “And your boyfriend has given interviews about how he’s still in love with you. I’m sure you two will run off and get married. Live happily ever after and have two point five kids with a mini van.”

“Chris? Please. I mean he’s a good guy. He’s a surfer, used to high all the time. I feel really bad about everything he’s been through, people thinking he killed me and all. But I’m so different now. He’s not the type of man I can see myself with. I want to be with someone strong, caring, brave. Someone like you.”

Two out of the three ain’t bad. “I’m not caring.”

“Yes, you are. You came back for me, you care about me. You’ve nursed me back to health.”

“You’re a job to me, Annie. A mission. An American. I’m a SEAL, this is what I do. Any of the other guys on the Teams would do the same thing. It doesn’t make me special.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

This was a fun meal. I should’ve gone into town with Kyle and Vic. “Yup. Once. She cheated. End of story.”

“Not all girls cheat. I never cheated, on Chris, I mean. Though I doubt that sounds reassuring coming from a former hooker.”

I winced. I felt bad. She was just trying to connect with me. She was probably scared to go home. “I don’t think being repeatedly raped counts as cheating. I admire your strength. I don’t know how many women could go through what you went through and still be able to smile.”

She took a sip of wine, her eyes twinkled. Her eyes wandered around the room, then fixated on me. “Pat, I have one favor to ask.”

I didn’t hesitate. It was our last night together. “Anything. Shoot.”

Her mouth widened into a smile, and she moistened her lips. “Make love to me.”

What the fuck?

I shifted in my seat as I thought about what to say—she was fragile and I didn’t want to reject her. I needed her to be strong for tomorrow. “Annie, you’re beautiful, and in any other situation, any other situation, I would love to fuck the shit out of you. But we can’t go there. I don’t want to hurt you. And I’m incapable of offering you any more than that and you deserve more. I deploy nine months out of the year. When I’m home, I’m so tired from training. Your first experience after this nightmare should be special. You've had enough assholes use you, debase you and treat you like a piece of ass. You don't need that. You don’t need me.”

Her lips parted, she stroked her hair. “I know what I want. I understand your job. For the past five years, I’ve been forced to have sex with strangers, do unthinkable things. Drugged out of my mind.” She leaned in to me and put her hand on my thigh. “Don’t let the last memory I have of being with a man, be with someone who paid for me. Someone I had no choice to reject. I want you. I choose you. Make me feel good.”

Her fingers sent a shiver down my leg and pleasure swept through my body. This was wrong. She was a recovering addict, a former prostitute. Sleeping with her could only confuse her, set back her recovery.

She inched her hand up my thigh and across the front seam of my jeans, gripped my growing erection. I growled in my throat, widened my legs and slumped backwards in the seat. God, I wanted this. The nights I'd suffered with her tight little ass pressed against my cock were unbearable.

Her fingers teased at the zipper, but it wasn't her touch that snapped my control. It wasn't the soft panting breaths that escaped her lips or the way her breasts teased at the neckline of her dress. It was the trust in her eyes, the hope. It called to me like she had when she first asked for my help. And I so wanted to fucking help her. Craved it.

I waited a beat, studying her eyes, my face an impassive mask despite my earlier reaction to her touch. Could I do this? Fuck her and leave her. It’d be the cruelest and kindest thing I'd ever done. Giving her back her freedom, her right to choose what to do with her own body. Reclaim her sexuality for the first time in over five years. I was already in deeper with this girl than I'd ever allowed myself to be. Could I let her go after this? Could she?

She deftly unbuttoned and unzipped my pants and her hand dipped inside to pull out my cock. I sucked in a breath at the feel of her small hand against me.

She moaned and my control snapped. I surged to my feet, her hand still tight around my cock, which put her in a vulnerable position in front of me. She didn't stop, kept gliding her hand up and down the length of me, her grip surprisingly potent. I stepped close enough that I could feel her breath on the head of my dick and my stomach tightened in anticipation.

I locked eyes with her and pulled her to her feet. The fabric of her dress pressed against me and I could feel her shallow breaths and rapid heartbeat. I smiled and pulled her closer with a hand on her neck. Between us she continued to jerk me off with slow, measured pulls.

I pressed my lips against the curve of her throat and my tongue lapped the line of it to her ear. “Are you sure this is what you want, Annie? You want me to fuck you? Say it?” I pulled her hand away, though it cost me and lifted her legs so they wrapped around my waist, her wet panties pressed right where they would do the most good.

She moaned and her head fell backwards. With a hand pressing against the small of her back so she rubbed against my cock, I walked us slowly towards our bedroom. My lips teased the shell of her ear. "Do you want me to make you come, Annie? Make you scream?"

Annie angled her head and whispered through a throaty laugh, “Yes, babe. Please.”

I kicked the door open with a foot and stutter stepped until I hit the bed. I set her on her feet and watched her response as I drew the dress up using the tips of my fingers to trace her skin as I went. Up her thighs, over her hips and the dip of her waist, the side of her breasts. She was left in a simple bra and panties and easily the sexiest woman I'd ever seen. She moved to take off my shirt, but I blocked her hands.

“No, tonight is for you. All for you. Lie down.”

She did, but her lips had pulled to a frown of uncertainty. I smiled inwardly as I knelt beside her, my knees by her hip and my hands on either side of her body. She watched me intently. I moved closer, sliding down onto my side next to her. I could smell the soft perfume she'd taken to wearing, a scent I knew I'd never forget. Her body strained closer as I hovered over her, lowered my lips to hers. She tasted like the wine we'd drunk, heady and intoxicating. She opened her mouth slowly, hesitantly and I forced myself not to be too enthusiastic. To go slow when I wanted to plunge my tongue into her mouth and take. Take it all. Take her.

Her body trembled and it was a feeling so sweet it made my heart hurt. How long had it been since she'd even felt an orgasm? Since she even wanted to orgasm? It was a vulnerable act, especially for a woman. Doubly so for this woman. It was about trust, not technique. Suddenly, in that moment, making this woman come was my mission.

Even though her soft mouth and sweet taste was incredibly inviting, I forced myself to pull away. Her mouth was red and swollen. Her tongue darted out to taste her lips and I followed the careful movement. She watched me with hooded, lazy eyes.

I smiled down at her as I lifted a hand to move the hair off of her forehead. She closed her eyes at my soft touch, her back arching off of the mattress with a loud creak. I trailed the hand down her face and along the soft line of her jaw. She sucked in a sharp breath as my hand continued down her neck to follow the soft material of her bra over the rise of her breast.

Her fingers grasped at the scratchy material of the polyester comforter when I dipped a finger under the cup of her bra to tease at the budding nipple. She whimpered at the back of her throat and it was so fucking hot that I shoved my face in her neck to drown out the sight of her rapt with pleasure. When I got my bearings back I moved the finger to pull the strap of her bra down her shoulder to bare her pretty pink tipped breasts. I trapped her arm under the strap and moved my head to take one into my mouth. Her other hand pressed my head closer, urging me to suck and nibble until she was panting in my ear. She drew long, deep breaths punctuated by breathy moans.

I kept at one breast, then lavished attention on the other until she was a writhing mess of need under my hands. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body and I lapped it up as my tongue traveled from her chest, down the centerline to dip in her belly button. I nibbled down her stomach to the line of her plain white panties. Nuzzling it with the scrape of my beard caused her to gasp in pleasure.

My breath was hot between her legs as I positioned one on my shoulder and held the other wide to bare her to my sight. With a finger, I moved the line of her panties and dipped inside to flick her hard clit with a practiced finger, then moved my hand just out of reach.

"Do you want me to touch you, Annie?" I pressed a light kiss just above where she was wet for me. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

"Patrick, please." Her voice was breathless with need. The look on her face was indescribable. Incandescent. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Her cheeks were rosy with lust. The blush spread down the gorgeous line of her neck and painted her chest pink. She'd undone her bra to bare her breasts and her black hair was spread across the pillows. She was so fucking beautiful it was agony not to cover her body and make her mine. "Touch me. I want you. Please."

I whispered a touch over her clit with the tips of my fingers. This wasn't going to be a quick rut in a dank room. This was going to be long, torturous. This would hopefully help her regain a small part of herself that she'd lost. Or at least I hoped that it did. If I couldn't be there for her, I wanted her to at least remember that I gave this back to her. A small part of me even hoped that it would be something she'd never forget.

The scent of her filled my nose as I touched my tongue to her pussy to tease and tempt. Her thighs clamped around my neck and her fingers grasped at my shoulders. I growled, trapping her wrists with my hands and holding them by her thighs, opening her farther to me. Her head arched back and I wished that I could see her face twisted with pleasure as my tongue fluttered over her, driving guttural moans from deep in her throat.

I released one wrist to hold her leg wider by the knee so I could have a free hand. She took the initiative to do the same with her other. With one finger and my tongue I circled her clit, pressing softly and then with more pressure sucking and fingering until her hips were circling the movement. Her whole body bucked on the bed and when I slipped two fingers deep inside her she exploded around them with a silent scream. Her entire body went taut for an endless moment and I eased up to watch the erotic response ripple across her face.

I watched until she melted into the bed. I watched until the small smile on her face slid into sleep. I watched until I was certain I could keep my own visceral emotional response in check. I watched until I knew that I could tuck the experience safely inside. Until I could stomach saying goodbye when it was the last thing I wanted to do.

14.

I could handle giving her an orgasm, but not waking up to her all sleepy and soft. She'd been wrapped around me like a vine, curled into my side with a leg thrown across my own, her breasts against my chest, her face tucked into my neck. I tucked that feeling away, too, and pulled away from the embrace and the longing that it stirred.

I wanted nothing more than to stir her from sleep with a repeat from the night before, but that would lead us both down a road that I wasn't sure we could come back from.

I was eating a pitiful excuse for a breakfast, runny, cold eggs and piss-poor coffee when she slipped into the galley kitchen in her meet-the-parents clothes. She was hesitant as she came closer, she looked almost hopeful.

The shame and regret twisted painfully in my chest when she smiled up at me, her cheeks flush with a burn from my beard. For the first time since I met her she seemed happy and it fucking pissed me off that I allowed myself to even get close to her to care about her goddamn feelings.

She fidgeted with the hem of her dress as I made her a cup of coffee and a plate of shitty food.

"Are you packed? Embassy opens at zero seven hundred and we want to get you there ASAP."

Confusion muddled her face and though I wanted to sidle up to her and tuck her into the comfort of my arm, I resisted. "Yeah, I've got everything. How do I look?"

Her face glowed, as it had last night. All I wanted in that moment was to drag her back to our room and take back my promise not to fuck her. Instead I frowned. “You look fine. Kyle and Vic will wait outside and I’ll walk you in. Once I’m sure you’re in safe hands, I’ll go.”

She blinked back tears, though I ignored them. I tried to pretend they were tears of excitement, but I could tell by her white pallor and tense stance that she was petrified.

She ate her breakfast in silence and I was both thankful and angry about every fucking thing. She finished and threw away the soggy paper plate, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Let’s go.”

I took her hand and led her off the boat and dock. Vic and Kyle carried our luggage to the car. Annie and I sat on a bench outside the parking lot. Her eyes darted around, staring at the people heading to the dock. One couple looked right at us and Annie’s gaze lowered to the ground almost instantly. She tapped her foot and clutched my arm, almost leaving marks.

She turned to me. “About last night, I wanted to apologize—”

I cut her off. “Don’t. It's done. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

“Will you come see me when you return from deployment? I really would like to see you again. I think we have a connection.”

Man, I didn’t need this. After all I’d done for her, she was putting this guilt on me. “Annie, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We’ll be bonded together forever because of this. But that’s all there is. A memory. You’re confusing your gratitude for your freedom with your feelings toward me. You don’t know me. And I don’t really know you, either. We have nothing in common. It was what it was. Once you’re back home, you’ll get back with your rich, surfer boyfriend that keeps telling the press how much he misses you, and you’ll forget I exist.”

“That’s impossible. And I doubt that Chris has stayed faithful all these years. I’m sure he has a ton of girls. I’m not the same person I was when I left. No one has ever done anything for me like you have. I need you. I won’t be able to forget you.”

“Well, you’re going to have to. I’m not the man you think I am.”

Kyle pulled the car around with Vic in the passenger seat.

I opened the door for her and she squeezed inside. I sat next to her and held her hand. I didn’t want to be a dick to her; I just didn’t want to give her any hope that there was a future for us. Because there wasn’t.

As we drove away from the ocean, I looked out back at the dock. Despite the horrors Annie had endured on this island, I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the ocean, as the majestic sunrise welcomed us. But this tropical paradise would always be marred by what had happened to Annie.

Our car approached the embassy. Annie had chill bumps on her arms, and I put my arm around her to comfort her.

I helped Annie out of the car. Vic and Kyle both emerged to say goodbye.

“Thank you both for everything: meds, making me laugh. I hope I’ll see you guys again.”

Vic gave her a hug. “Good luck, sweetheart.”

Kyle also embraced her. “Of course we’ll see you again. You’re Pat’s girl. I’m counting on hooking up with all your hottie friends.”

Her mouth spread into a smile. “They’ll love you.”

I leveled Kyle with my eyes. I’d deal with him later.

“You guys stay here. I’ll take her inside.”

We walked up the stairs of the embassy, Annie holding on to my arm. A United States Marine guarded the door and gave us an intense stare. After we entered, I took her over to the consular general’s office; walk-ins were only accepted Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, nine a.m. to eleven a.m. It was too risky to make an appointment; I wanted to make sure we were first in line.

“Can’t you come inside with me? Just for a bit?” I could feel Annie shake.

There couldn’t be any ambiguity. I had to cut the ties. “Nope. You need to go by yourself. I'm not coming with you.”

“But I need you. Please, I’m sure the Navy would give you leave? My daddy could get you a job and—”

“Stop. We're not going to do this." My head pounded. I had to get it over with. Set her free so she could move on. “This is it, Annie. It’s over. I can't ever see you again. I rescued you, detoxed you. You’re nothing more than a job to me. The job is done. This is done. I don’t owe you anything. Just let it go."

Tears fell down her face and she let out a whimper.

My chest tightened. I fucking hated myself for being such an asshole. But I had to do this. For her. For me. We both had to move on.

I nudged Annie into the room, then walked away and stood outside the door. Annie looked back at me and then walked up to the window. The lady seemed to ask her some questions, then came out from behind the cubicle and gave Annie a hug. I gave a final glance back and could see the secretary entering the consular’s office, holding Annie’s hand. Annie was safe. I’d done my job and completed my mission. It was time to get back to my men.

I raced down the steps of the embassy and jumped into the awaiting car. “Go.”

Kyle sped away.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I could’ve kissed her goodbye, told her it was going to be okay, that I cared about her.

“You okay?” Vic offered.

“Yup. Never better,” I lied.

I wondered what Annie was doing at that moment. Had she finally called her parents? Heard their voices? Like an investigative news reporter, I wanted to know every detail. But that was her story. My involvement in her life was over. And now it was time for me to get back to my life. I’d done my job, earned my trident.

“The only easy day was yesterday.”

15.

I was back on the ship, crammed next to my smelly men. One week had passed since I left Annie at the embassy. I’d followed my usual routine: gym, mess hall, brief on mission. Normally, I’d log on to the computer every night but I’d been avoiding the internet. Kyle and Vic had told me that she had been flown to the States, but I told them I didn’t want to hear the details.

I finally signed in once everyone else had dispersed so I could be alone. I clicked on Fox News.

“Missing American Analía ‘Annie’ Rose Hamilton Found Alive in Curaçao.”

I scanned the article, looking for any details regarding my participation in her rescue.

“Hamilton walked into the American Embassy on Friday, accompanied by a man, who left immediately. It is not clear what his involvement in her rescue was, but sources close to the embassy believe that he was in Special Operations.”

Great. Fucking great. That damn Jarhead probably fucking dimed me out. Now I was part of the investigation. I needed to tell my command what was going on, before they were contacted.

I found a video of a press conference on YouTube. It was a fucking circus: Annie, her parents, her douche bag boyfriend Chris, the police, lawyers, the press. So glad I didn’t have any part of that.

Annie didn’t speak. She stood at the podium in a fitted, white suit, clutching the cheap necklace I’d given her.

Her parents read from a prepared statement.

“We are so ecstatic to be reunited with our darling Annie. She is a testament to our faith in the Lord. To all the families with missing children out there, never give up hope. We ask for our privacy at this time.”

Faith in the Lord? The Lord didn’t find her, I did. I wasn’t an atheist. I believed in God, I’d been raised Catholic. I just hated the acceptance that everything that happened was part of God’s plan. Was it God’s plan for Annie to be kidnapped, forced to take drugs, raped every day?

Her boyfriend held her hand. I closed the website.

I found Kyle and Vic in the television lounge. “It’s all over the news. I need to tell Lt. Marshall before our names get leaked.”

Vic nodded and stood up, probably heading toward Lt. Marshall’s quarters when Kyle stopped him. “Hold up. We don’t need to tell him shit. Annie’s not going to sell you out. I’m sure she’ll repeat the story we told her, that she saw her opportunity to escape and asked a tourist for a ride to the embassy. She survived for five years—she’s not going to break when they question her. And it’s not like the pimp is going to rat us out since he’s dead. Why would she try to ruin our career? I don’t think she’s like that.”

Vic pointed toward the officer quarters. “We should tell Lt. Marshall.”

“No, Kyle is right. Let’s wait and see.”

Vic just shook his head. I had to remind myself that if I’d gone through the proper channels, like Vic had wanted to, Annie would never be saved. So that was that. I know I did the right thing. And I didn’t have any regrets.

Three more months. Three more months and I’d be back in sunny San Diego, California. Less than twenty miles away from Annie. I’d told her I’d never wanted to see her again. But I wasn’t sure that I’d meant it. For now, I had to focus on my next mission, and get her crooked smile out of my head.

16.

Today was homecoming. All the other men would have their wives, girlfriends, kids waiting for their arrival on the dock. Not me. I hadn’t even bothered telling my mom when I’d be returning. Didn’t want her to fly down from Northern California. I’d take leave soon and go visit her. For now, I wanted peace and quiet. Time to finally put all that had happened behind me.

Vic stopped by my rack. “Hey, man. What you doing Saturday? My family is having a fiesta for us; carne asada on the grill, tequila, you wanna come?”

“Thanks, man. I’ll text you. Tonight, I just want to get home to see my dog.” Trigger had been staying with one of my SEAL buddies who was stuck on instructor duty, training BUD/S Phase One, for the wannabe SEALs.

“Okay. See you Saturday.” He gave me a man-hug.

I gathered my pack and gun. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed tonight.

Despite my best intentions, I hadn’t been able to resist keeping up with Annie’s return. Luckily, my name hadn’t been in the press and she had evaded revealing the details of her escape. San Diego had held a parade in honor of her return, and People Magazine had put her on the cover. There had been one interview with Oprah, where she mostly talked about the night she’d been kidnapped and her life for the past five years. When Oprah interrogated Annie about her rescue, Annie just teared up and said she wasn’t ready to talk about it. I was thankful for her omission. When asked if she had someone special in her life, she had said yes. Was she talking about me? Chris? It pissed me off that I even cared. After that interview, Annie and her family had asked for privacy and time to heal.

I walked down the plank after most of the sailors and Marines had dispersed. I wasn’t in any rush. We were docked at the 32nd street Naval Base. The beautiful view of the Hotel Del Coronado was behind me, and I marveled at San Diego waterfront. I was happy to be home.

A sailor in front of me ran toward his wife, then cradled his infant son, whom he was surely meeting for the first time. I couldn’t imagine having to come home to this new life, new baby, and trying to make up for all the time I wasn’t around. Being a stranger to my own family wasn’t something that appealed to me.

“Hey, Hero.”

My head turned. Annie stood before me, holding a painted “Welcome Home Patrick!” sign. What the fuck was she doing here?

She was stunning, and looked completely different than when I’d left her in the embassy. Her black hair was blown dry and had lighter highlights framing her face. Her hazel eyes now seemed more golden, set off against her purple eye shadow. She’d gained some weight and her body looked perfectly sculpted. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way her form-fitting pink sweater hugged her newly found curves. Curves that had my mouth watering.

“How did you find me?”

Her hair blew in the wind and she smiled. “You’re not the only one who can find people. My dad’s a retired Navy Lieutenant. He went to Annapolis.”

Why hadn’t she told me that before? Her dad was a ring knocker? Figured.

I wasn’t ready to see her. I had planned on finding her before I deployed again, but on my terms. I didn’t appreciate being ambushed. “What are you doing here? I told you I didn’t want to see you again—”

She bit her lip, her smile now sad. “Relax. I get it. Really . . . I just came to see you, because I wanted to tell you thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry for the way I behaved detoxing and at the embassy. I was just paranoid. Don’t worry, I’m not going to stalk you.”

Maybe I wanted her to stalk me. Fuck, I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted. This new Annie wasn’t the same beaten down girl I’d left behind. She was now strong, sexy, confident which only made me want her more.

The wind from the Pacific Ocean blew up her skirt, and I glimpsed black lace panties. I wanted to take her right there on the pier, hike up her skirt and fuck her brains out.

“Need a ride?”

Did I ever. Mind out of gutter. I’d planned on taking the shuttle back to the Naval Amphibious Base Coronado where my truck was parked. “I guess.”

She paused for a second. “Can I take you to lunch? Just to thank you. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

“I could eat.” I followed her out to the parking lot. She pressed the button on her keys and a brand new deep purple Audi Q7 blinked its lights. “Nice ride.”

“Oh, thanks. My dad bought it for me. I didn’t want to drive anywhere by myself at first, but now I love it. Freedom, remember? Apparently it also comes on wheels.”

I opened the driver’s door for her. I came around to the passenger’s side and slid in. This luxury SUV had all the bells and whistles: navigation, MP3, seat sensors.

She drove off base. My body remembered that I hadn’t been with anyone since her. But she wasn’t my girlfriend picking me up after a long deployment. I had to remind myself that we weren’t a couple—I didn’t even know her. We were just deeply connected by this experience. This was just closure, for her, for me. And really, I was curious to see how she’d adjusted back to her old life. I wanted the truth, not lies fed from a tabloid. I needed to know she was okay. So I could move on and put her in the past. Finally.

She drove over the Coronado Bridge, down Coronado Avenue. We pulled up to my favorite non-SEAL watering hole, Leroy’s, and sat down at one of the reclaimed wood tables. I ordered a burger and a craft beer; she had ahi tacos and a lemon drop.

“So, how you been? Any relapses?”

She rolled her eyes. “No relapses. Good, I guess. I mean, nights are no fun—I get scared and have nightmares. Plus, I find it hard to do anything without asking for permission.”

“Are you healthy?”

She must’ve understood what I meant. “Yup. I repeated all the tests Vic gave me. Luckily, no STDs. Even in the brothel, I always insisted on using a condom. If the men refused to use one, I’d take the beating from my pimp rather than risk it. I always hoped one day I’d be able to escape.”

There was something about her now that I couldn’t figure out. A coolness. An air.

“That’s good. Are you going back to school?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. I don’t know. There are book offers I’m considering, but I’m not ready to tell my story.” She looked at me. “Our story. I want to get into some kind of sex trafficking activism.”

“That’s cool.” Despite my desire to take her home with me, I kept my distance. She didn’t need me dropping in and out of her life. I’d be leaving San Diego to train again in a few weeks.

She reached across the table and touched my hand. “I need another favor.”

Why the hell not? It’d been months. I grinned and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go. I’ll take you back to my place.”

She blushed. “No no, not that. Next time I’m with a man I want it to be special, to mean something.”

Ouch. I just laughed. Figured. That ‘someone’ special she had mentioned during Oprah definitely wasn’t me. What the fuck was wrong with me, now I was referencing Oprah? Annie had probably already reunited with Chris. I doubted she wanted some SEAL who hired hookers hanging around her. “What do you want?”

“Uhm, so, you can say no. But my dad wants to meet you and personally thank you for saving me.”

Fuck no. I clenched my fist. “Not going to happen, Annie. I assume you already told him how we met? Hi, sir. Well, yes, I visited a whorehouse in Curaçao and hired your daughter to give me a blowjob. No way.”

“He’ll love you! All he cares about is that you saved me. He was in the Navy. He understands.”

“Sorry, Annie. But the answer is no.”

“Please. Just this once then I’ll leave you alone. I promise. He just really wants to thank you.”

“You’re not going to leave me alone until I agree.”

“Pretty much.”

I couldn’t say no to her. “Fine. When?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Really? Thank you so much! Dinner tomorrow? At our house. Here’s the address.”

She had already written it down on a piece of paper. This full homecoming greeting was just an act to get me to do what she wanted. And I’d fallen for it, believing that she actually wanted to see me.

I’d meet with her family, alleviate the guilt they must have for not being able to save her. And then I was done. And this time I meant it.

17.

I drove my truck up the I-5 north toward Annie’s parents’ home in Encinitas. After almost a year at sea, the damn truck still ran, thanks to my buddies taking care of it. With all the money I’d saved up during deployment, I briefly considered upgrading it to a brand new Ford Raptor. Since I’d turned eighteen, I’d spent most of the past seven years deployed or out training. In all that time, with the exception of BUD/S, I’d spent a grand total of eight months in San Diego, broken into two- or three-week intervals. I needed to put down some roots, maybe buy a condo. But in this real estate market, the chances of doing that were slim. Why the fuck would I need roots anyway?

I arrived at the address Annie had written down for me. Sure enough, they lived in a beachfront multi-million dollar mansion. With all the money they seemed to have, why hadn’t they been able to rescue her? Just hire former SEALs to bring her back home—real SEALs, not some asshole pretenders. I knew a few security-contracting firms filled with former Team guys that could’ve gotten the job done. I’d sell every possession I owned to save my daughter. Give my life.

The grand gate opened and I pulled into their driveway. I glanced in the car mirror; I wore a collared shirt and khaki pants. I’d even shaved. Looked like a preppy asshole—should fit right in.

Annie came around to the side of my truck. I recognized her parents immediately from all the news coverage. Her father had a distinguished white beard and piercing blue eyes. Her mother looked like one of those reality television housewives—long, shiny black hair, chocolate almond-shaped eyes and porcelain skin.

I removed my sunglasses and stepped out of the truck. Her father observed me coolly, and offered a hand, which I took. “It’s an honor to meet you, Patrick.”

Her mother gave me a quick hug. Tears shone in her eyes as she looked up at me. “Thank you for saving my baby.”

“You’re welcome. I wasn’t alone. My guys helped.”

“But you came back for her.” Her mom hugged me again and I could smell her strong perfume. “You brought our Annie back home.”

“Okay, Mom, can we at least go inside before you start losing it?”

“Of course, baby.”

I followed Annie up to the elegant entry stairs. The view of Moonlight State Beach from the living room blew me away. This home had to be worth at least three million dollars, which made the alarms in my head go off. My mind raced. Why hadn’t they sold this beachfront home and moved into some place that was more modest? They could’ve used the money to save Annie, offered a bigger reward. What the fuck was wrong with these people?

Her father stood in front of the bar. “So Patrick. Can I get you something to drink? A martini perhaps?”

Who did they think I was—James Bond? What twenty-five-year-old guy drinks martinis? I grunted. “Thank you, sir. That sounds great.” Fuck. I didn’t even know how to talk to these people.

I studied Annie as she sat with her back erect on the white leather sofa and bit her French-manicured nails. If her parents had seen where she had been living for the past five years, they would’ve had heart attacks. Well, I’m sure some tabloid would return to Curaçao and try to retrace Annie’s steps, expose what had happened to her. At least the brothel burnt down, so her parents could never know how bad her existence truly was.

But I did. And I would never forget it.

When I looked up, I met her father's eyes. He'd returned a few moments prior and by the narrowing of his eyes he must have seen me watching her. Great.

Her father handed me the martini, his cold eyes assessing. “Can I have a word with you on the deck?”

The martini even came with the standard-issue blue cheese stuffed olive. Bonus. I took a sip of the dry liquor. I suddenly got the feeling that I would probably need all the libation I could get.

“Sure, sir.” I followed him out to the redwood deck. I’d rather be interrogating a terrorist than be alone with this former naval officer. I downed the rest of the martini.

I breathed in the salty ocean air. I would never own a house like this. My own one bedroom apartment could fit in the size of their guest bedroom.

“So, Patrick. Annie told me everything that happened. How you met, how you rescued her. I’d like to thank you for your service.”

My service? “It was the right thing to do.”

He reached into his pocket and placed a folded piece of paper in my hand. “This should cover your expenses.”

I opened it. It was a three hundred thousand dollar check, made out to Patrick Walsh. I’d be able to help my mom out, buy a new truck, put a down payment on a condo. Pay off debt. I could live a fairly comfortable life for years on the amount of money that I held in the palm of my hand.

I didn’t hesitate to hand it back to him. “I can’t accept this.”

Mr. Hamilton laughed and shoved the check back into my hand. “Yes, you can. I knew men like you in the Navy—pieces of shit who would cheat on their wives with hookers. I hope that you can leave us alone to heal. In private.” His eyebrow rose. “Annie has been through enough. Seeing you is a reminder of her past. How you used her, forced her to get you off. I don’t want scum like you hanging around my daughter.”

My own vision narrowed, I opened my stance and took a few controlling breaths. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? “I can’t be bought off. If it wasn’t for me, Annie would still be shooting up heroin and screwing strangers. You think I’m scum?” I sneered. “You should’ve seen her pimp.” I ripped up the check, went back inside, and charged toward the front door.

No one was going to tell me how to live my life and who I could see.

I needed to get the fuck out of there.

Annie was waiting in the dining room, her mother close by her side. Their heads both shot in my direction as I strode through the perfectly appointed kitchen and then past them. I ignored the smirk on her mother's face and the frown on Annie's.

“Are you leaving?" She called after me. "We haven’t even eaten yet.”

“I’m going to go, Annie. You got what you wanted. I met your dad. This is done. It should have been done at the embassy. I made a mistake coming here with you. I'm nothing to you."

Her eyes flared and her hand shot out to grasp at the material of my shirt. "Excuse me, Patrick, but after all we've been through I consider you a friend. One of the only ones that I have left. I thought dinner with my family would be a nice gesture, since I have no other way to thank the man that saved my life." Her voice lowered to a growl. "So excuse me for trying to be nice."

Fuck. "Annie—"

"No," she shouted and her parents came up behind her. Her father laid a protective hand on her shoulder. "No, Patrick." She shook her head and bit her quivering lip. "Excuse me."

Then she was gone. Again.

Her father gave me a knowing look, but I didn't have time for his fucking shit. I knew I was an asshole. That I could probably use a year or two on the couch of some shrink, but a girl like Annie didn't deserve my callous behavior. Not when she was trying to readjust to her normal life and her dad was a complete pretentious jackass.

I felt like a fucking dick.

I took the stairs behind her two at a time and followed her into a room, where she sat down on the bed, her shoulders hunched inward, hands lying limply on her lap, the ghost of tears still wet on her cheeks.

“This is my bedroom," she whispered.

I glanced around the room. Its stark white walls had weird pictures of Victorian children in frames above the sleigh bed, and tiny little porcelain dolls arranged on an antique vanity. It reeked of a combination of mothballs and potpourri. “Your room? Are you eighty? This place is creepy. You actually sleep in here? No wonder you have nightmares.”

She gave me a dazed expression. The same one that I had seen back on the boat. “Well, my mom had redecorated it after I went missing—used it as a guest room. I understand, I guess. I mean, they had declared me legally dead. For insurance and stuff. I don’t see the point in redecorating it. I’m going to move out at some point. I don’t really feel safe here.”

Don’t even think about inviting her to stay with you, Walsh. Get this dinner over with and move on.

“How do you not feel safe in your own home? Didn’t you grow up here?”

“Yes.” She stroked the flowery bedspread. “But my parents had it completely renovated after I was taken. They sued the cruise line and received the life insurance settlement. I can’t say I blame them.”

What the fuck was wrong with her family? I didn’t understand rich people. My mom worked two jobs to support me. She still lived in the same crappy thirteen hundred square foot house I grew up in back in Sacramento. Even when I brought my ex-fiancée back home to meet her, she hadn’t changed one thing about my room. Hadn’t Annie’s parents wanted something to remember her by when they thought they’d lost her forever?

I swallowed around the knot in my throat. Fuck this was precisely why I wanted to sever all ties back at the embassy. "Look, I didn't mean to come off as a dick."

She shot me a wry look and I laughed.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I did. But you have to understand that I don't fit in your fucking life. Look where you live. Who your parents are? This isn't my life, Annie. Far from it. You're just getting started again and you shouldn't pin all of your hopes on me. Give yourself and your future a fair chance. Please. For me."

Annie took a shuddering breath. "You're just the only person that doesn't still see me as the girl I used to be. You don't look at me like I crawled out of a hole. You make me feel safe."

I took a step closer so that my knees bumped hers. I lifted her chin with the tips of my fingers. "Look, shit happens. Thankfully, you got out of there in one piece. It's not going to be easy, that's for damn sure, but you've only been back a few months. You have to give it some time."

"You're probably right." She smiled up at me.

I followed her down the stairs to the entryway. Her parents hovered behind her. Her mother's face was botox-tense and the smile she wore was more of a sneer. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and instead turned to pull Annie in a hug. They shared a look that I caught from over Annie's head. Fuck them. I didn't need their approval. If anything they should want their daughter to be happy considering what she'd been through.

I started walking out the door with every intention to put her and this entire fucking situation behind me. I would go home, down a six-pack and get back to my regular routine. I reached the door and turned to say goodbye, but couldn't force the words past my lips at the look of raw emotion on her face.

“Annie. Do you want to come to Vic’s party tomorrow? His mom is throwing it for all the Team guys. Kyle will be there too. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m good. You don’t have to take care of me anymore, Pat. I’m fine. I appreciate you coming here but don’t feel like you have to hang out with me. I can take care of myself. I won’t bother you again.”

My gut clenched. I knew I’d been an asshole to her, but it wasn’t because I didn’t care about her. She was fucking hot, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And I didn’t pity her; I admired her strength. I just didn’t have a fucking clue where to go from here.

I looked into her eyes. “Hey. I want you to come tomorrow.”

She pursed her lips and stepped away from me. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

What did I expect? Maybe her father was right. I was just a painful reminder of her past. But if I was, I needed to hear it from her. “I need to see you tomorrow. Say yes.”

“Fine. I’ll come. Where should I meet you?”

I couldn’t tell if she was playing hard to get. “I’ll pick you up at five.”

“Sounds good. I’ll walk you out.”

We bypassed her parents and went down the hallway out into the yard and back down to the driveway. I got into my truck and drove away.

It wasn’t just that her family was loaded; I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right with her family. And I was going to find out what it was. For Annie’s sake.

18.

I drove back up to her house to pick her up for Vic’s party. I hoped her dad wasn’t home but I honestly didn’t give a fuck. I doubted that he would tell me off in front of his daughter and risk looking like a fucking hypocrite.

I pulled up and she was waiting outside the gates. She pointed me to a parking space in front to the house. I looked up at the expansive glass windows, and could see her dad watching me. I wasn’t intimidated by him; he wanted to watch? I’d give him something to watch.

“Can we get some coffee first? There’s this great little shop up the street. I traded my addiction to heroin for caffeine.”

“Yup. Let’s go.”

I checked her out. She was wearing a pale peach dress that clung to her body. I couldn’t tell if she had a bra on or one of those camisoles. Either way, I could see the outline of her nipples. I remembered how they felt pulled into buds, how they tasted. The scent of her skin on the curve of her neck.

Her perfume wafted around me. I leaned into her and kissed her, not caring about who saw or my own objections. The words spilled out of my mouth, though the look on her face made me happy I said them. “I’m glad you came and greeted me off the ship. Honestly, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

She touched my face. “I missed you, too.”

We walked up the street.

We ordered two cold-drip iced coffees from Lofty Coffee, this coffee shop a block away from her house. A few people stared at us; I’m sure recognizing her from the magazines. I kept my sunglasses on.

“I’ll be right back, babe.” She nodded and I slipped out the door to The Den, a boutique next store.

The designer clothes and lingerie wasn’t what I was looking for. Then something caught my eye at the counter. “I’ll take this.”

The shop girl grabbed the item and packaged it up. “Is this for your girlfriend?”

I couldn’t tell if she was hitting on me, but I didn’t care. “Something like that.”

I paid, and then went back to the coffee shop.

Annie was turned toward the coffee bar adding milk and sugar to our drinks. Some dickhead handed her the plastic covers, and said something to her to make her blush. I wanted to punch him.

She handed me my coffee. Her cheeks were red.

I put my arm around her and headed back to my truck.

I texted Vic and told him we were on our way. I really wanted to see how she would act around the other team guys and their wives. I wasn’t trying to test her, but I couldn’t help but be curious if there was any possibility that she’d ever fit into my world. I mean, I was still going to ship out and never see her again, without a doubt. But it was like there was a part of me that wanted to know for sure, wanted to see just how stupid any vague lingering idea of us…. No. Annie had been raised with money; I could never give her the type of life that she had been accustomed to before she had been taken. Just no.

God, but she looked hot in that dress.

Forty minutes later, we arrived at Vic’s family’s house. The smell of cumin and lime wafted from the backyard.

I didn’t need to knock. We walked around the back and opened the gate.

About twenty other Team guys, their wives and kids, were milling around the yard. There was one of those bouncy houses for the kids. Vic spotted us. He poked Kyle to get his attention and they both came over.

“Annie! You look great.” Vic hugged her. “Thanks for coming.”

A hug wouldn’t satisfy Kyle. “Hey, sweetheart!” He lifted her in the air. She seemed more excited to see him than she had to see me. But I doubted that she wanted him. Kyle had just never been a jerk to her like I had. Not that I had anything to worry about—we never ever hit on another Team guy’s woman. “How you’ve been? Where are all the hottie friends you promised me?”

She smiled. “I’ll hook you up next time we go out.”

Vic’s mother walked over to us, clutching Vic’s daughter Carina’s hand.

“Mama, this is Annie.”

“Hola, mija. Bienvenida.” I loved Vic’s mom, she was like a second mother to me. She never hesitated to make food for an entire SEAL team or drive downtown in the middle of the night to pick one of us up if we were smashed.

“Encantada, Señora Gonzales. Soy Analía.”

Vic’s mom seemed impressed by Annie’s fluent Spanish. Three-year-old Carina looked up at Annie. Vic’s little princess was adorable: huge brown eyes, long wavy hair. I admired that he made her his top priority when he was in town, knowing that as long as he remained in the Teams they would spend more time apart than together.

“You wanna see my dolls?” Carina asked Annie.

“I’d love to, sweetie.”

Annie followed Carina into the house and Vic’s mom went to the kitchen.

Kyle gave me a devilish grin. “Couldn’t stay away from her for a day. We’ve been back, what, five hours? Have you already hit that?”

“Two days, asshole. She fucking greeted me at the dock. Welcome home sign and everything. Conned me into going to see her family. Dad’s a ring knocker. Tried to bribe me to stay away from her.”

Vic raised his eyebrow. “What’s the problem? You didn’t want to see her anyway.”

“Yeah, man. Take the money and run.” Kyle raised his eyebrow. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us.”

I glanced inside the kitchen; Annie was on the floor playing with Carina. She gave me a big smile and waved at me.

“I don’t know man. There’s something going on with her parents.”

Kyle glared at me. “Keep talking.”

“I mean, they’re loaded. Like they have this mansion on the beach in Encinitas. And they redecorated her room. I don’t have anything yet, but something doesn’t add up. I mean, I found her and I wasn’t even looking. You think with all that money they couldn’t hire a contractor group to go find her?”

“I thought they hired some guy who took their money?” Vic said.

“That’s what the news stories say, but I mean her dad’s a former Naval Officer—he couldn’t check out this guy’s credentials before giving him three hundred thousand dollars?”

“You’re right. That makes no sense,” Kyle said.

I nodded. “I’m going to put some calls in with some friends who work in security contracting firms. See if they know anything.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” Kyle paused. “So that’s it? You’re just worried about her? Nothing else.”

“I don’t know, man.”

Vic jumped in. “Walsh, she wants you. She’s a good girl. You have nothing to lose. Stop being such a closed-off prick and give her a chance.”

I was going to respond, but Annie walked out of the house, carrying a beer and some food.

She smiled and I couldn't help but think that even though I didn't fit in her life, she sure seemed at home in mine.

19.

After a few hours at the party, we said our goodbyes. As we drove in my beat up black truck from Chula Vista through Imperial Beach on our way to Coronado, I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that I shouldn’t push her away. I’d been alone for so long, I didn’t even know what my life would be like with a girlfriend. Even if she didn’t cheat, what’s the point when you can barely be together?

The view of the Silver Strand beach was on our left and Annie just stared out the window.

“You okay?”

She blinked back tears. “Yup.”

I touched her thighs, sliding my hand in between them. Not to start anything, just to touch her. It would take me a lifetime to comprehend what she’d been through.

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I want to know.”

Her hands shook. “I was having fun at the party, just being normal. Everyone was so nice to me. But I kept thinking that they were all looking at me. No one brought up that I’ve been on the cover of every magazine, flashed across all the news networks. And if you haven’t told any of the guys that you, Vic, and Kyle were the ones who rescued me, wouldn’t everyone wonder what you were doing with a hooker?”

I had no idea she’d felt that everyone was judging her. “First, you aren’t a hooker.  Any of them who recognized you were probably in awe of your strength. And all the other Team guys were just jealous that I had the hottest girl there.”

“Thanks, Pat. You’re full of shit but I appreciate your effort.”

We pulled in to the Naval Amphibious base and I decided to give her a quick tour. When I showed her the obstacle course, her eyes got wide. “I want to try it.”

“Who are you G.I. Jane?”

“I could do it. I don’t quit.”

Totally off limits to chicks. I stared at the course. Some of my toughest memories were climbing a rope, carrying logs over my head, maneuvering under barbed wire, scaling walls. I didn’t think women should ever be allowed to train as SEALs. Hell, I didn’t even think they should be in the military. Call me a misogynist asshole, but why can’t men just be men? Like we couldn’t even have porn anymore because we couldn’t risk offending women. Fuck that. It would be fine if they wanted to just do admin shit or be nurses, but they wanted to shoot guns, be on the front lines. They wanted to be so equal they might as well be issued dicks. But the thought of seeing Annie, dirty and sweating, writhing on the ground, begging me for mercy, made me willing to make an exception.

“Maybe someday I’ll let you try. If you’re a good girl.” I smacked her tight little ass, imagined taking her from behind. I wanted to dominate her, make her scream my name. But after what she had been through, I was also worried about scaring her.

We found a secluded spot on the beach. Most of the tourists had deserted by then and we were blessedly alone, shrouded by the trees and warmed by the remnants of the sun. As the sun began to set I threw the blanket down, pulled Annie on it, and wrapped her in my arms. Whatever this was, she felt right there, like she belonged. Her hair smelled like vanilla, and it drove me wild remembering the night that I had her wrapped around me.

“You know, I never was a beach bunny. Chris surfed, and my girlfriends spent all their time down here sunbathing, but it was never my thing. Once I was taken, though, every time I had a chance to look outside, I would try to see the ocean. It meant freedom to me. A way off the island.”

“I actually hate the ocean. You’d think as SEALs, most of us would love it. But after going through Hell Week, spending all that time training wet and sandy, the last thing we want to do is spend our free time near the beach.”

She squeezed my knee and smiled slowly. “I’d love to see you wet and sandy.”

Grrr. I wanted to make her wet, but not from the ocean. From my mouth, from my hands, from my cock.

I reached into my pocket and took out a small box. I shoved it in her hands. “Here. I got this for you, to replace the shitty one I bought you in Curaçao.”

She opened the box and pulled out a tiny necklace. It was also gold, but this time it was a small trident. Our symbol. My code.

“I love it! Thank you, Pat.” She turned her back to me and I unhooked the fake necklace I’d given her.

“Wait. Stop. I want to wear that one also.”

“Why? It’s fake. Cost me fifty cents.”

She clutched the old necklace to her chest and the sight caused me to feel oddly protective. “But it’s worth fifty thousand dollars to me. It gave me hope. Hope that you would return and save me.”

I hooked it back on and just placed the other one around her neck. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You never gave up hope.”

“I told you. I believed you were sent to me.”

I took her hand. “I leave again in three weeks. For three weeks. After that, I’m not sure how long I’ll be back here until our next mission.”

“I don’t care, Pat. I waited for five years for someone to save me. I’d wait for you for another five years to come back home to me. I’d never cheat on you—”

“Wait, hold on. What are you saying?” I didn’t want to hear this wrong. I didn’t want my fucked-up brain to hear something she wasn’t saying.

“I’m saying I can’t connect with anyone back home. My parents, my friends, Chris. It’s so crazy. Everyone expects me to be this pathetic, shattered girl. But I’m not. I’m a woman. I want to fall in love. I want to take control over my body. I want to feel pleasure. Those men took five years of my life and I won’t allow them to take a second more. Being kidnapped is something horrible that happened to me, but I refuse to make it define me. I hate to be a bitch, but I hear my friends whining about stupid stuff, like not having enough money for new clothes, or their boyfriends spending too much time with their friends. Who gives a fuck? I mean, I was raped every day for five years. I’m a heroin addict. I’ll always be an addict even though I’m clean.”

I shook my head, trying to process this. “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t get what that has to do with waiting for me…”

“I’m trying to tell you that with you, I don’t have to explain myself, apologize for what happened, lie about the past. You know what I’ve been through, and you’re still here. You don’t see me as a victim. You see my strength. I want to be the woman you think I am.”

Now that I understood.

"I don't want you to be anything other than what feels right to you, Annie. You're perfect just the way that you are and no one or nothing can change that, apparently not even the atrocities you've had to overcome."

She was angled in my lap with her legs thrown over mine, her head resting against my chest and in that moment I realized that I didn't want whatever it was between us to end. I wasn't ready to call it more than lust or an attraction born out of our circumstances. All I knew was that I wasn't ready to let her go.

"That means a lot to me. I haven't really been able to connect with my friends and my parents just act all awkward whenever I'm around. You're the only one that seems to treat me like a person."

The breeze coming off of the water surrounded us with the salty sea air, effectively surrounding us in a warm cocoon. With the lock of her gaze on mine the rest of the world seemed to fade away and it was just us, wrapped in each other. "Stay with me tonight."

She pulled out of my arms and her brows creased. "What?"

It had just slipped out, but the more that I thought about it, the more I was growing to like the idea. The time without her those first few weeks had been hell and the more I was around her, the more I wanted to throw caution to the wind.

"I'm serious." I pushed a lock of hair off of her forehead, tucked it behind her ear. "I know I said that I didn't want for us to take this any father than the embassy, but apparently nothing stops you, which I admire more than anything. I do enjoy spending time with you and although I can't promise anything more than the time I have in between assignments, I want you." I moved my lips just a hairsbreadth from hers and I could feel her deep inhalation at my declaration. "Be with me, Annie."

She smiled and her delicate hand drew up to press against my cheek in a soft caress. "I couldn't imagine being with anyone else. I don't know how or where this is going to go, but I haven't been able to stop thinking of you. You're the only one I feel comfortable with."

I relinquished what small hold I had on my control and pressed my lips to hers. I poured every ounce of pent up lust and frustration into the kiss. My hand on her waist crushed her to me, the other tilting her head to the side to take the kiss deeper. I was thankful for the seclusion because it had been over a year since the last time I'd had sex and I didn't think I could wait any longer. Especially when she shifted in my lap and straddled my legs to press herself directly on top of my cock.

Her hand shifted into my hair to hold me against her and the kiss turned feral and more demanding. She whimpered and the sound reverberated in my mind, echoes of the cries she made the first time I made her come. Her hips retraced the memory, riding slowly up and down the length of me with careful precision, only breaking rhythm to torture us both.

The fabric of the dress she wore billowed out around us, concealing the motion though the beach was pretty much deserted. I shifted, sliding my hands down the slope and dip of her hips and wrapped around to grab her tight ass. I clenched and gripped to guide her movements, pressing her more firmly against me with each slide. The increased pressure made small, cat-like sounds come from her throat and I eased back a bit to watch her face.

It was that feature of my time with her that I clung to the most in the space since we'd been apart. Her face when she came was a memory that haunted my dreams. I had never been one to induce intimate moments with the women that I fucked, but with Annie, I couldn't help but watch her response. Partly because I was worried about tripping a trigger and partly because the women I had been with had never been as responsive or expressive when I fucked them. I couldn't get of it out of my mind. I'll be damned if I miss a moment of it now that she's giving me a second chance.

I gripped her neck with my left hand and settled on the blanket so that I had more balance, shoving her legs open above mine and stilling her above me. She watched me with heavy eyes, her lipped trapped between her teeth and her hands now buried in my hair so tight that it was almost painful. I slid my right hand down her thigh until I reached the hem, then back up until I felt her shiver at my touch.

She pressed her face into my neck and placed a kiss just below my ear. We were pressed hip to hip, chest to chest and I'd never felt closer to another human being in my entire life.

I pulled back, suddenly overwhelmed. "Wait. I just need you to understand that this isn't a commitment. This isn't a relationship. I want to be with you, but it's hard with my job. I can promise you that when I'm in town it'll be you and only you, but I can't lie to you and tell you that it'll ever be more than that. I just can't. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. If that's not something that you think you can handle, just let me know and I'll back off."

"Patrick, I'm not an idiot. I've seen firsthand what your life is like. I just want to be with you. I don't know how long or what's in store for me, but right now the only thing that I want is you. If anyone knows that the future isn't guaranteed it's me. No one can say for certain what is going to happen. So we only have this moment. And in this moment, there's nothing that I want more than to be with you. So please. Shut up and kiss me."

But she didn't give me the chance to do as she ordered, instead, she used her hands to pull me closer and the need to make her mine spread throughout my chest again, obliterating all of my doubts.

I slid my hand farther up her thigh to the swatch of lace that covered her and brushed the backs of my fingers back and forth until her breath returned to pants at my ear. I didn't want to rush the moment, no matter how much my dick wanted me to. I drew  the line of her panties from the top of her stomach and along the line between her legs. Within minutes she was wet and breathless, her hips straining for me.

In order to not move her from my lap, I gripped the sides of her panties in between my fingers and tore, rending them to useless bits of fabric and baring her more completely. I used one hand to play with her bare pussy, remembering exactly how she liked to be touch and the right spots that made her gasp in my ear. Her breath hitched when my free hand rose through the fabric of her dress against the skin of her waist to flick at the catch of her bra.

As my fingers reacquainted themselves with the delicate expanse of skin on her chest, my mouth slid across the curve of her neck, licking and sucking my way to her ear. The little moans she was making were driving me absolutely insane and it was all I could do not to fuck the foreplay and give my cock what it wanted. Instead, I slid a finger deep inside her.

"God, Annie. You feel so good." Her pussy clenched around my finger as I added my thumb brushing against her clit.

"It feels so good," she panted. "I've never felt anything like this."

It made me ridiculously proud to be the one giving her this. I was damn sure her boyfriend had never fumbled her to an orgasm and I couldn't even comprehend the last five years for her. She would never have to go through that again, I promised myself. I would get off, something I was most looking forward to, but more than that I wanted to give her more pleasure than she'd ever known.

As I continued to pleasure her with one hand and tease her nipples with the other, she moved a hand to the zipper of my pants. I felt her draw the zipper down, pop the button from its clasp and then my pants released around my hips. I groaned into her neck at the touch of her hands on my ridiculously hard cock. She expertly worked her hands over me, squeezing, teasing and milking me.

I sat up a little to pull my jeans down the rest of the way and wrapped her legs back around me. I positioned her above me, holding my hands at her hips and keeping her eye locked with mine. Slowly, achingly, I eased her down inch by wet, tight inch. At the feel of me her eyes began to close and her head dropped back on a long moan of pleasure.

I hadn't had sex in so long and even it was a one-night stand before I left for deployment. I didn’t even remember her name. Jamie? Janie? But I had a feeling that a year from now, ten years from now, I would remember this moment, just as I could recall that one night on the boat. There was something about this girl, the way she focused on me, saw right through me.

I cupped her chin and urged her to look at me. "No," I stilled her hips, though the effort cost me. I wanted to see her respond to me. "Don't close your eyes. I want to watch you come this time."

With slow, measured movements I urged her hips to glide back and forth along the length of my cock. On her knees, spread for me her clit would rub at just the angle so that each slide made her moan. She took over the pace surging back and forth over me with an urgency that stole my breath.

I lifted myself higher on my knees and draped her over my arms so that my angle was deeper. The change drug my cock across a spot inside her that made her grasp at my shirt and her gasp with each thrust.

"Ohmygod," she moaned.

"Does that feel good, baby?" I nibbled and sucked the curve of her neck. "Are you gonna come for me?"

She squirmed, tightening her arms and legs around me, pressing so close that our movements were strangled and frantic. My thrusts quickened in response and there was something about the restricted space, the urgency that drove her wild. Her breathing was labored and harsh as she shuddered around me, pressing into me until I couldn't tell where she ended and I began. Her face was pressed to my chest as her pussy clamped around me.

I held her tight to me as her release began to calm. She took my face into her hands and kissed me. It was tender and sweet, like she was giving me a part of herself. She moved around me, quick little jerks of her hips that sent shocks all over my body. I lost myself in the wet glide of her pussy and came with a long groan that was stifled by the press of her mouth.

I settled back on the blanket, her dress surrounding us as sweat cooled on our skin. As the orgasm retreated the fear that I was getting in too deep with this girl niggled in the back of my mind. She was the first person I'd ever connected to on such a level, and it wasn't just the sex amazing. I was beginning to worry that no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise she wasn't just a fling.

20.

I showed her my office in the SEAL base. She seemed impressed and asked a ton of questions about my job. I liked that she seemed to really care about my career, more so than the typical girl. Most frog hogs saw us as nothing more than a notch on their bedposts, a real life action hero from one of those crappy romance novels. The SEALs in those books had little resemblance to real TEAM guys. First off, most SEALs never ever told people what we did for a living. I would’ve never told Annie that I was a SEAL, but I needed to make her understand that I was capable of saving her. I always told everyone I met that I drove an ice cream truck. Another thing, we never gave details about our missions to civilians, whether we were fucking them or not. And we sure as hell didn’t leave our careers to chase women across the world. Most of the authors who wrote this crap had never even met a SEAL, let alone been fucked by one.

“I have to call home. They’ll worry.”

“Why would they worry? You’re with me. I saved you.”

“After what happened, they freak if I stay too long at yoga.” She picked up her cell phone and dialed.

“Hi Dad.”

“It was fun. I’m going to stay with Pat tonight.”

She shifted her phone to her right ear, probably so I couldn’t hear her dad tell her what a piece of shit I was.

“Whatever, Dad. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She ended the call and looked out the window.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

I knew her dad must’ve given her a hard time. “What did he say?”

“That you were just a typical SEAL that was going to leave me and cheat on me. ‘Remember where you met him, Annie. That’s not the kind of man you want to get involved with.’ Whatever, I don’t care. They’ll get over it. They can’t really pretend to try to protect me from anything. I’ve already survived the worst life imaginable.”

We drove back to my place mostly in silence. I lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Pacific Beach. It had a small courtyard for Trigger and was close to the all the shops and restaurants.

I had two motives for having Annie at my place. A, I wanted to fuck her brains out again. B, I wanted to figure out whether or not I was off base about her parents.

I opened the door, and leashed up Trigger for a quick walk. “You want to come with me?”

“Nah. Can I take a shower?”

I wanted to take a shower with her, see the beads of water glisten off her body. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Trigger was grateful to see me. Some would say it was stupid to get a dog when I was deployed so much. But Trigger was my family. His loyalty was boundless.

We entered the courtyard and Trigger sniffed a tree. I took my phone out and saw I’d had a missed call from Kyle. I called him back and he picked up on the first ring.

“I texted Dave already about Annie and he texted me back.” I heard a girl’s voice in the background. No matter what one of us was doing, day or night, we would always pick up any call from each other. “He said he had some information.”

That was fast. “Did he say what?”

“No. But he told me to call him tomorrow. So let’s meet up.”

Trigger had done his business and was now flirting with a pug. “Sounds good. Later.”

“Bye.”

I took Trigger back into the apartment, hoping maybe Annie would meet me at the door naked. But she was sitting on my bedspread, wrapped in a towel, texting on her phone.

I unleashed Trigger. “Who you texting?”

“Oh. No one. I mean, it’s nothing. Chris just asked where I was because he’d stopped by my parents’ house and they’d said I’d left.”

“He just stops by your house whenever he feels like it?” I clenched my teeth. “Are you fucking kidding me, Annie? Are you still seeing him?”

“No, Pat. Of course not. But we’re still friends. He went through a lot you know, being a suspect, everyone treating him like a murderer. And, I mean, he cares about me.”

“Sure, he does. And he’ll comfort you when I deploy, too. Have you slept with him since you’ve been home?”

“Oh my God. No! Pat, you’re crazy. We grew up together, our families know each other. He was so distraught when I went missing. It was hard on him too.”

“I bet. Don’t play me, Annie. This can end now if you’re going to fuck around on me. I don’t need this bullshit, your dad bribing me, worrying about you when I’m in the field—”

“Bribe you? He just tried to give you the reward. Which you should take. You deserve it. You can buy a condo with it.”

Figures, I knew my lifestyle would never be enough to satisfy this fucking princess. “I’m sure Chris has a great condo. Maybe even a beachfront house. Go live with him if you don’t like my crappy apartment.”

Her towel dropped and I could see her full breasts. Great distraction technique.

“Pat, relax. That’s not what I meant.” She wrapped her naked legs around me. “I know your ex cheated on you. I’m not her. I would never do that to you. But I’m not sorry I texted Chris. He has a girlfriend. There is nothing going on between us. Nothing. I’m only interested in you. I swear.”

This was a mistake. Going to her house, sleeping with her, inviting her back to my place. Even under the best of circumstances, it was hard to have a successful relationship with a Team guy. We had so much working against us. Her family, her past, my job. And I hated to admit it, but it was hard for me to deal with the fact that she had been a prostitute. I didn’t blame her for it, nor think less of her. Nothing like that. I understand that she had been forced. But at night, the images of all of those other man, random faceless men, filled my head, like a never-ending movie loop.

I unwrapped her legs. “I don’t know if I can do this. We’re too different.”

“Get over yourself for a minute and think of me for a second.”

“I am—”

“No, you’re thinking of how I fit into your life. Think of ME. What I want. What I need.”

“I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower and then crash.”

She nodded and I went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. SEALs hated cold showers, reminded us of freezing our balls off in the ocean during BUD/S.

I was trying to push her away. I knew that. I couldn’t risk letting her in and having her betray me also. But I’d already let her in.

I dried off and went back into the bedroom. Annie was lying under the covers, reading a book she must’ve grabbed from my nightstand. I needed to give her, us, a chance.

“Sorry. I trust you. I just don’t trust him, or any guy for that matter. If he’s your friend, I need to meet him.”

Her voice became quiet. “Why?”

“Because I need to look him in the eyes. It’s important to me.”

“Fine. I’ll ask him.”

“Monday. Lunch at noon.”

Her fingers moved across her phone. She smiled when she received a reply. Pissed me off. I wanted to be the only one to make her smile.

“He says okay.”

Yeah I’ll bet. Fucking ‘Jody.’ He’ll be happy to shake my hand tomorrow and fuck my girl when I’m gone.

I wanted to believe her words, the promises she made with her naked body. But I didn’t. What if she relapsed on heroin when I was gone? It’s not easy going three weeks without any communication.               And if we were deep undercover, that’s exactly what would happen. And I’m sure Chris would be waiting with open arms to take care of her.

21.

Annie slept in late on Sunday but I couldn’t rest. I snuck out to the farmer’s market to get food, and came back and made her breakfast in bed. I wasn’t much of a chef, more of a short order cook: scrambled eggs, bacon, toast. I liked taking care of her.

In the afternoon, I took her shopping. I hated malls but it beat returning to her parents home and dealing with her dad. We spent most of the day having sex, watching movies, and playing with Trigger. I usually spent my days off hanging out with Vic and Kyle. I missed those motherfuckers.

I woke Annie early on Monday, told her I had to do something quick at work and that I’d be back in an hour or so. She just gave me a kiss and fell back asleep. Trigger would keep her safe.

I cruised over to Kyle’s place. At least he had invested some of his NFL money. He had a sick townhouse overlooking the beach.

I rang the doorbell and a blonde girl opened the door wearing nothing but one of Kyle’s jerseys and purple panties.

The girl didn’t say anything, just turned and walked into the kitchen. I followed, couldn’t help staring at her fine ass. Had I never met Annie, I’d probably be hooking up with a different girl every night since I’d been home. Kyle and I would be living it up, maybe even hit the Playboy mansion. We always got invited courtesy of this Hollywood director that loved us. We’d trained his actors for one of the many action movies about the Bin Laden raid.

Kyle was sitting at his breakfast bar, reading the paper. He wore only pajama bottoms.

The girl went into the kitchen. “Want some breakfast?” She cracked an egg into a bowl.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“My bad. Pat, this is Sara. Let her cook you breakfast.”

“Sure.” Every girl Kyle hooked up with tried to audition to be his wife. He wasn’t like me; he believed in love and wanted to get married. But he still hadn’t found what he was looking for.

Sara smiled, put some butter in the skillet. “So are you a former football player, also?”

I glared at Kyle, not knowing if he had even told this chick that he was a SEAL. I doubted it. Kyle usually told people he retired from the NFL.

“Nah, honey. Pat here’s my personal trainer. Actually, we need to discuss my plans for the upcoming season in my office. Can you just bring us our omelets when you’re done?”

“Sure, babe.”

Kyle stood up and kissed her, his right hand cupping her ass. I followed him into his office.

“Upcoming season? She thinks you still play ball?”

“I told her that I used to play ball, might try out again.”

“Really? That’s news to me. You’re kind of locked into a military contract.”

“True that. But who knows, I could write a book about one of our missions and get kicked out.”

I laughed. Five years ago, most SEALs wanted to remain anonymous. After Bin Laden, every SEAL had a book deal, wanted to become an actor, or ran a Cross Fit. It was fucking ridiculous.

“When’d you meet her?”

“Last night. At Pacific Beach Bar & Grill. She’s a preschool teacher. I dig her. She could be the one.”

“That’s what you say every time.”

Sara entered the room, carrying a tray with our food and two coffees. I thanked her. It was nice being taken care of for a change.

“Could you close the door?”

“Yup. Don’t be too long.” She licked her lips. “I’ll be upstairs, waiting. Nice to meet you, Pat.”

“You too.”

The door shut. I took a bite of my omelet: cheese, ham. Simple, but good.

“So how’s Annie?”

“Good. She’s back at my place now.”

Kyle’s mouth widened into a smile. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, well, I caught her texting Chris. She says she’s not screwing him but who knows?”

“Man, that Marissa chick screwed you up. Women can have male friends and not fuck them. It is possible. Just give Annie a chance. She’s crazy about you, dude. And she’s a good girl. Fine, strong, sweet. Not many women could survive what she did.”

Kyle always seemed to be right. But I didn’t come here to discuss my relationship problems. “Have you heard back from Dave?”

“Yup. He’s waiting for our call. Going to conference him now.”

Kyle dialed his number, and Dave’s face popped up on Kyle’s computer screen. Gotta love modern technology.

“Hi, guys. So you boys used my boat for a little rescue mission? I knew you were up to something. Wish I could’ve tagged along. I missed all the action.”

Kyle spoke. “Sorry, Dave. We didn’t even know where she was. But you’re in the loop now. What’s up?”

“Everyone in Curaçao knew that Annie was taken. I looked for her myself when she first went missing, but I guess they had her hidden out in Aruba.”

I nodded. “Yup. That’s what she told me.”

“I’d heard of sightings of her, but nothing panned out. And, of course, an old bastard like me can’t really go undercover in a brothel. Not to mention all the locals know that I’m a former SEAL so I’d be the last one they’d tell.”

“Understood,” Kyle said.

“Well, almost exactly two years after she went missing, some contractors came around the island and asked about Annie. Flashing her picture everywhere.”

“We know this—that fake SEAL. He had people with him?”

“No, Pat. Not him. That con man never even looked for her. I have my doubts he even exists.”

I was confused. “I’m not following you.”

“These men that came looking for her were former Team guys. I could tell a mile away. Just like you guys. They were very thorough and professional. They must’ve hit every brothel here and in Aruba. Yet there has never been any mention of them by Annie’s family or the FBI.”

My mind raced. “So you think these guys were paid by her family but didn’t find her?”

Dave’s head shook. “No. I think they found her—and left her here.”

What the fuck was he saying? “That makes no fucking sense.”

“Hear me out. You found her by accident. I tried but was unable to because of my age and my reputation around these parts. These men worked for someone. Not the government. The FBI and CIA don’t send teams to rescue kidnapped Americans unless they’re one hundred percent certain that the hostages are in fact taken and not missing on their own accord. Like SEALs rescued Captain Phillips from the Somali Pirates, because it was confirmed that he was a hostage. Or the two missionaries who were kidnapped and saved. But Annie was different; she vanished. There was never any ransom notes, no one saw her get taken, her boyfriend was suspected of killing her or it was a possible suicide. Someone hired these guys, whoever they were, to find Annie. And I bet that they found her. They just decided not to bring her home.”

Jesus! It made sense. There was no way with all the money her parents had that they hadn’t found legit security contractors to locate her. Which group did they hire? Did they find her? If so, why didn’t they bring her home?

Kyle took over the conversation. “What did the guys look like?”

“Looked like recently retired SEALs. Older, mid to late thirties. Clean cut, no tattoos, built. One of them was a ginger.”

“No brothers?”

Dave and I both laughed at Kyle. We knew what he meant. Despite the diversity on the SEAL recruiting posters, the teams were eighty-five percent white like me. Vic and Kyle had both been recruited as part of an operational diversity program.

“Nope. Wish it were that easy. I hope this helps.”

“Thanks, Dave, I really appreciate it. Next time we’re in town, I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Any time. Let me know if you need anything.”

I stared at the empty screen, my mind totally blown. Finally, Kyle broke my trance, “Has Annie mentioned any other Americans she, uhm, ‘met’ over there?”

“Nope. She doesn’t talk about it.”

“Well, I’ll call Vic and we can start digging through older Team guys—see who’s in contracting, any redheads. But you need to talk to your girlfriend, make sure we’re on to something.”

“I doubt she’ll talk, I’ll try. Thanks, man.”

“Any time. I need to take care of some business upstairs and then I’ll get right on it.”

I gave him a high five. “I get it. I’ll let myself out.”

I walked out of the house, but instead of getting back into my truck, I headed to the ocean. I needed to clear my head.

My gut clenched. I had to interrogate Annie about her Johns without her getting suspicious.

“In the worst of conditions, the legacy of my teammates steadies my resolve and silently guides my every deed. I will not fail.”

22.

I returned back to my apartment carrying two Iced Mochas from Bird Rock Coffee.

Annie greeted me with a kiss—and a clean apartment. She’d scrubbed my floors, dusted the furniture, even folded my laundry. Fuck, I didn’t remember getting married.

“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind. I just need to be busy.”

I got it. And here I was about to interrogate her about her past.

We sat at the table.

“What’s wrong, Pat? You’re acting weird. Are you still upset about Chris? We’re meeting him in an hour so—”

“No. That’s not it.”

“No secrets. Spill it.”

I didn’t know how to approach her. We had an unspoken rule never to talk about her time in the brothel. “In the brothel, when I came back to see if you were who you said you were, you told that me that you and Nicole were convinced you were going to be saved. Why did you think that?”

She shifted in her seat. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“Why now?” She sucked her cheeks in.

“I always wanted to ask you. There’s never a right time.”

“It was nothing. I just thought this other guy was sent to save me once. He never came back. Why does it matter?”

“It matters to me. Why did you think he was going to come back?”

“First, you get all jealous about Chris and now you’re interrogating me about the clients? You know I don’t want to talk about them.”

I couldn’t tell her why. “Please, Annie. I just have to know.”

Her hands clenched into fists. “What do you want me to say? You want to hear how he forced me to make out with Nicole? What positions he fucked me in? Will that make you happy?”

“Dammit, Annie. Is that what you think of me? Of course, I don’t want to know that shit. You don’t think that it kills me that all those men used you? That I used you? Every fucking night since I met you, I have nightmares of faceless men who fuck you. And in them I’m fucking helpless and can’t save you. I want to kill every man who has ever touched you. I just wanted to fucking try to understand why no one ever saved you? You mentioned it. Is that so fucking wrong?”

She pulled out her hair, like she had on the night I’d returned to the brothel. “I’m  sorry, Pat. I’m just so fucked up. I just lost it. I hate myself.”

“I’m not mad at you.” I pulled her to me, and kissed her forehead. “I know this is hard for you. I’ve been thinking about it and I want to know. But if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” I wasn’t using reverse psychology—I didn’t want to upset her further. She’d tell me when she was ready.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked.

“I’m sorry I brought it up. Forget I asked. We need to leave soon to meet your boyfriend.”

“Ha ha. I’ll get ready.”

Annie emerged from the bathroom wearing one of those short, flippy skirts, a tank top, and strappy sandals. Granted it was eighty degrees, but she looked too damn hot to go outside.

“What are you wearing?”

“Jesus Pat. Controlling much? It’s scorching out and I thought you’d like it. I bought it yesterday. Now you going to tell me what to wear? I was a hooker, I’m beyond modesty.”

My throat became dry. We weren’t communicating at all. “No, I’m not telling you what to wear. But we’re going to meet your ex boyfriend. I already don’t trust him, and I don’t need him lusting after you in front of me. You can wear whatever you want. It’s going to be so fucking hard for me to be away from you when I deploy next month and you’re not making it any easier.”

“So if I dress sexy it will be harder for you to trust me? That’s dumb.” She wasn’t backing down.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I trust you. It’s hard enough for me to imagine all those men touching you. I get so angry when I think about it. I just want you to myself. And he’s your ex. I’m a man. I know what he’s going to think when he sees you. You’re fucking hot.”

She shrugged. “Okay. I’ll change.”

God, was I that much of a paranoid asshole? I wasn’t one of those men who thought that women who dressed sexy were asking for it. I just wanted to protect Annie. I didn’t want anyone fantasizing about her. It would be impossible for me to focus on my job if I’m worried sick about everyman eye fucking her while I’d be away.

She came back out in longer shorts, a tee shirt, and the same strappy sandals.

I kissed her. “You still look hot. Thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal. I get it.” She rested her head on my chest. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being honest with me about your feelings. I want you to be able to trust me. I didn’t realize how hard it would be for you to accept my past. Like, I knew you wouldn’t judge me for what happened, but I forget that it must be tough for you anyway to think about me being with those guys. What I’m saying is that it means a lot to me that you want to be with me.”

“I’m not going to lie to you and say this is easy for me. Because it isn’t. No man wants to picture any one touching his girl ever, let alone thousands. I know it wasn’t your choice. I know it wasn’t your fault. In my head, that girl was Star.”

She had a gleam in her eye, like an inner glow from her soul. “But for me, I feel like you’re the only man that gets me. Because you saw me as Star. And you’re still here. You haven’t just read about my past, you saw me first hand like that. Fuck, I mean you hired me. Star is a part of me and I don’t want to forget about her. Ever. She made me strong. Nothing can shake me now. I’ve made peace with my past, getting taken, the rapes, the drugs, the men. Yeah, it was a nightmare. But it was my path. I was meant to be with you. Therapy and yoga helped me understand that. I feel like I can do anything, endure anything.”

I was mesmerized by her. I kissed her again and we walked out the door. She constantly amazed me with how strong she was. In BUD/S the men who make it through aren’t necessarily the strongest men, the fastest men, or the smartest men. But they are the ones who on day one are determined not to quit, no matter what. They will not ring that bell.

Annie was just like the men who made it. No matter how hard her life had been, she was determined not to ring that bell under any circumstances. She was exactly like me. She could survive anything.

Maybe even loving me.

We drove to Solana Beach to meet Chris. He picked the place, Zinc Café. I didn’t care; I just wanted to look him in his eyes.

The place was dog friendly, so I took Trigger. We walked into the courtyard, and Chris was sitting at a table, drinking some type of gourmet soda.

He hugged Annie and I made sure to study their body language. He wanted her for sure. Fuck.

“Nice to meet you. Thanks for saving her.”

He shook my hand: it was a decent handshake. He looked older than the pictures I’d seen of him on the web. His sun-streaked hair was long and brushed his shoulders, his tan skin was weathered, and his turquoise eyes had lines around them.

“I’m going to order for us.” Annie kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hand. I knew she was telling me to be nice to him. But she still didn’t have a clue that I had an additional ulterior motive for wanting to meet him.

Annie walked into line.

Chris smiled at me. “I wanted to thank you for clearing my name. I know finding Annie was way more important and it’s not about me, but it was hard walking around having everyone look at you as a murderer. I felt so fucking guilty that I didn’t know what happened to her. I was so depressed thinking that she died, or was out there being traded around. I mean, I should’ve been able to protect her, but I didn’t. We were only eighteen and so stupid drinking. Just wanted to say there is nothing going on between us. I’m seeing someone.”

I’m glad he got that out of the way. He made strong eye contact and I believed him, even though I could tell he was still attracted to her. Not that I could blame him. “Thanks for that. I trust her. What do you know about her dad?”

Trigger sniffed Chris. “Mr. Hamilton? He’s great. Our fathers are old golfing buddies. He always believed I had nothing to do with Annie’s disappearance. Why?”

I wasn’t going to answer his questions. “How’s his relationship with Annie?”

A gust of wind blew his hair into his face. “Mr. Hamilton’s a tough guy. Very hard on Annie. Total perfectionist. When we were dating, he was always giving her a hard time about everything. Her grades, her clothes, her friends. And we hadn’t even told our parents when we went on the cruise. He’s old fashioned and Annie was sure he’d forbid her to go. I think in all honesty he’s embarrassed more than anything. He can’t handle the fact that she was a hooker.”

Made complete sense. Her dad cared more about his image than his own daughter. He couldn’t handle the shame he felt she brought on the family, so he left her to die. “It’s hard for me to deal with too. But it wasn’t her fault.”

The tables were so fucking tiny, our knees touched. I pushed my chair back. We looked like we were on a fucking date. I hoped Annie would come back to the table soon.

He leaned into me. “Man, I got to hand it to you. You’re the man. I respect the fuck out of what you do, being a SEAL. You saved her. But how do you deal with the fact that she’s been with so many men? You’re right—it wasn’t her fault. But you’re a better man than me. It would drive me crazy.”

“It does bother me. I try not to think about it.” I hated to admit it, but I liked Chris. He was honest and respectful.

Annie returned carrying three plates, like a waitress. She placed a burger in front of me.

I took a bite. It tasted great but there was one problem. “Did you order me a veggie burger?”

“That’s the only kind of burger they have. This place is vegetarian.”

Figured. I was not cut out for this surfer lifestyle.

“So, are you guys best friends yet?” Annie teased.

Chris dug his fork into some kind of weird grainy salad. Quinoa? Bulgur? No clue. “You bet. Hey, do you think you could ever give me a tour of the base? I’d love to see the obstacle course.”

“Sure buddy.” This guy was more of a fan than a threat. I’m glad I met him.

“See. I knew you two would hit it off.”

The rest of the lunch was uneventful. Chris talked about some surf competition he’d entered; guess the guy was pretty good. Seeing them together gave me a small glimpse of who Annie had been before she’d been taken: carefree, laid back, sweet. She had probably been the type of girl that would’ve never even considered dating a SEAL.

Annie went back into the café to get some dinner to go.

Chris stood up. “Nice meeting you, Pat. If you ever need anything, let me know. And I’ll always be here for Annie, even when you’re gone. But you don’t have to worry about us hooking up. I’d never do that to you. Seriously, dude. You finding her was the best thing that ever happened to me. You not only gave Annie her life back, you gave me back mine.”

“I’ll have a beer with you anytime, Chris. And let me know when you want to see the base.”

“I will. That would be awesome. Maybe you can come surfing with me?”

Had no desire to learn. I’d never surfed. But I’d try anything once. “Sounds good. Later, bro.”

Annie walked back out of the café, carrying a paper bag. “Bye, Chris.”

They hugged again and I just stared at Trigger. Friends. That’s all it was.

We climbed into my truck and Annie had a big grin on her face.

“What?”

“I knew you’d like him.”

“He’s cool. Different than how I thought he’d be.”

“See?” She rubbed my thigh. “I told you nothing was going on.”

We backed out of the parking lot, and drove away. She squeezed my hand.

“I’ll tell you what happened.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“No. I want to. I’m calm now. I just have to separate the experience from myself you know? I have to be in the right state of mind to talk about it.”

I nodded.

She took a deep breath and spoke in a whisper. “About two years after I was taken, these two American men came to the brothel. Not the same one you met me at, but a different one in Curaçao. They were in their mid-thirties, one guy had brown hair and one guy was a redhead.”

Holy shit. My muscles quivered. Dave was right. I didn’t want Annie to see any reaction from me. “Go on.”

“Well, the first time they showed up, they chose two other girls. But I swear to God that they both recognized me. When you picked me you never checked me out first, but that pimp allowed customers to ‘check out the merchandise.’ The redhead got right in my face, like he was checking me out, as he walked down the line. Looked straight at me, even stared at my ankle, like he was looking for my tattoo, you know? I thought for sure he was going to pick me that night but he didn’t. Around a week later they returned, but this time they chose Nicole and me. We’d been picked together before, sickos wanting to watch some girl on girl action. We were both cautious but hopeful, thinking maybe they would recognize us. I mean, they were American.”

I ground my teeth. This was almost unreal.

“So we went back to the room. They didn’t talk, just kind of motioned at us what they wanted us to do,” her hands made fists. “So after that, they just kind of lay there. They didn’t bolt like most guys do.” She pointed at me.

Guilty.

“So I thought they recognized us. I was so excited and still had hope back then. I opened my mouth to tell them, but Nicole tried to stop me. She didn’t want to get in trouble. But I didn’t care. So I whispered our names. Nicole had this look of sheer terror. The redhead, I remember, took this long, like, pained breath. I thought for sure he knew our stories, who we were. But the other man, he was just really cold. He stood up and they left. The redhead looked back at me when he left the room and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’ But I knew he believed me. I was so positive he was going to come back. And I guess I’d even convinced Nicole that we were going to be rescued. That at least they would share the sighting with my folks, and someone would come save us.”

My ears pounded. These motherfuckers, possible former SEALs, found these two Americans there, and just left them to die! They couldn’t be SEALs; we were bound to a higher code.

“Uncompromising integrity is my standard. My character and honor are steadfast.”

Granted, I clearly didn’t always live my life with uncompromising integrity. But I couldn’t fathom these men leaving these girls, knowing they were trafficked. In my defense, when I’d hired Annie to blow me, I didn’t think she was kidnapped.

Her hand was shaking now. “But after six months, nothing. I was so fucking mad at them. I mean why couldn’t they tell someone. This was my life that had been stolen. I was a sex slave. How could they know my identity and do nothing? And I was pissed at myself for believing that I would be saved. Nicole lost it. I mean, she went crazy. Started mouthing off to the pimps, refusing clients, begging for extra heroin. I pleaded with her to stay strong. We would find a way out. Somehow. Someday. Together. But she just wanted to die. She stole my drugs, and some from a few other girls and shot herself up. And I wanted to die too. She was all I had left. I couldn’t stop feeling sorry for myself. Why me? Of all the girls who gotten drunk on a cruise, why me? Then I remembered that before I was taken, I heard about a girl who had been kidnapped for ten years and escaped. It was possible. So why should I give up? I had to get out—for me, for Nicole. I had a life to live. I had to survive no matter what. That’s when I made the decision not to give up. That the next time that I met a man that I even thought could save me, I would take the chance. Risk it all.”

I wanted to pull over the car and hold her. We approached a stoplight, and I kissed her. “Thanks for telling me. It meant a lot to me. I’m not going to leave you, Annie. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I know. You’re my hero.”

We didn’t talk for the reminder of the drive home. But my thoughts raced. There was no more doubt. I was one hundred percent committed to Annie. Committed to making her happy.

But I still didn’t have the entire story straight. Who were these men, who hired them, and why did they leave them behind, when according to Dave, they were completely capable of saving them?

The only thing I was sure of is that I wouldn’t rest until I found out what the fuck was going on.

23.

I lied to Annie again, and told her I had to work the next day. I headed back to Kyle’s house, but this time, instead of Sara’s fine ass opening the door, I was greeted by Vic.

“Hey man, come inside. I think we’ve got something.”

I followed him back to Kyle’s office. Kyle was in intel and made mission plans like they were football plays: there were pictures, diagrams, timelines, maps. Luckily, we had access to all the SEAL alumni records.

I sat on one of the chairs. “What have we got?”

“Well, I made a list of all men who had left the Teams in the last five years. Then I eliminated all the men who went into non-security-related careers. I was left with one hundred and forty-three men. They were spread out among different countries, different States, different contractors. There were only three gingers. Two of them still work at their security companies, but one of them worked for Neptune Group. He left his security detail, around two and a half years ago.”

“Six months after he found Annie.”

“Exactly. Name is Matt Houston. I asked some buddies who knew him, looks like he checked into rehab. And get this, he lives in Poway.”

Vic jumped in. “And we’re meeting him for lunch in an hour. I fed him some bullshit that I’m thinking about contributing to a foundation for fallen SEALs. He ate it up. Was happy to meet with some Team guys.”

Brilliant. Team guys always welcomed a meeting from a fellow Frog, even if they had never met before. That was one of the benefits of being part of the best fraternity in the world.

We headed inland in Kyle’s Black Cadillac Escalade Hybrid. I texted Annie to see how she was doing. I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her before I had to deploy, but I needed to find out the truth.

Matt had recommended that we meet at Brothers Provisions, a sandwich shop that served craft beer on tap in Rancho Bernardo.

As we approached, I scanned the patio. I recognized him immediately. Red hair, still built, looked hardened. I didn’t care if he was a Team guy—I wanted to kill this motherfucker, for fucking my girl and leaving her to die.

“Nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Pat, this is Kyle and this is Vic.” I reached out my hand, but he didn’t take it. His hands had an unsteady twitch, and he was rattling his keys.

He nodded his head and we all went inside to order a few sandwiches and beers. Back out on the patio, we made small talk about different Teams we had been on, a few guys we knew in common, and different deployments.

He took a sip of his beer, and his eyes shifted back and forth. “I need to hit the head.”

He stood up and went inside the shop. Barely a few seconds had passed, and an older model black Ford truck barreled out of the parking lot. He’d been on to us.

We didn’t speak; we knew what to do. I threw down some money for a tip and we hightailed it into Kyle’s Escalade.

I could see Matt’s truck entering I-15 freeway going south.

Kyle chased him down the freeway, dodging in and out of cars. Matt didn’t slow down. Where the fuck was he going?

I didn’t have time for this shit. He slowed to enter the 56 West and I took out my pistol and shot out his back right tire.

He pulled to the shoulder of the freeway, Kyle’s Escalade right behind him.

I saw him reach toward his glove compartment. This motherfucker was going to kill himself. Or us.

We all jumped out to the car, with our weapons.

I approached the vehicle. He had the gun aimed right at me. “You have about ten seconds to unfuck yourself. Matt, put down the gun. We’re not here to kill you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He kept the gun steady. “He sent you. I didn’t talk to anyone.”

“No one sent us. We are the ones that saved Annie. We did some digging. We just want to talk to you.”

With three guns pointed at his head, he didn’t have much choice. Kyle disarmed Matt without a struggle. I slid into the passenger seat of his truck and handed Matt’s keys to Kyle. I told Vic to get Matt’s spare tire just in case a cop drove by and thought we looked suspicious. Kyle stood guard on the side of Matt’s truck.

I needed some answers. “Start talking asshole. Why did you leave her there? She told you her name.”

He blinked. The creases around his burdened eyes were so deep they looked as if they had been beveled with a blade. “First off, it’s not my fault man. I tried to save her. You have to know that. It started out like a standard job. Missing girl, possibly trafficked. Go to the island and see if she’s alive, if you can find her.”

“Who hired you?”

“Her father. Paid three hundred thousand dollars. Taylor, another former Team guy, and I volunteered. Seemed like a piece of cake—go hang out on Curaçao for a month, all expenses paid, drink, snorkel, rescue a girl, come home. We went down there, started fishing around. Asking locals. Visiting brothels. We had a tip that a girl who matched Annie’s description was at this one brothel. We cased the plac. The first time we went in, our only goal was to see if we thought it was her, identify the tattoo and see what kind of shape she was in. The minute I saw her, I was positive it was Annie. Her hazel eyes, hair, tattoo, scar, height. But we were ordered by our bosses to pick other girls that first night and not her. I was so fucking stoked that day; to think I’d found this kidnapped girl and we’d be bringing her home in a week or so. The girl she was with, Nicole, we didn’t even know she was there. That was a stroke of luck finding her. We’d, of course, read about her disappearance in Aruba. I thought I’d be a fucking hero—saving two Americans. Collect her reward too.”

Cars whizzed by on the freeway. I looked in the rear view mirror, and Vic had the car jack out, pretending to get ready to change Matt’s tire. “So what the fuck happened? Why did you leave her there?”

“I didn’t have a fucking choice. We checked in with our bosses after we found her in the brothel and they reported back to her father. We had a conference call with the motherfucker. He asked me how certain I was it was her, if she looked high, her demeanor, what she was wearing. I told him I’d bet my Trident it was his daughter. She was definitely a heroin user. I saw tracks on her arms when the pimp let me check her out. As long as I live, I will never forget the next words out of his mouth. ‘Leave her there. Forget you ever saw her. With any luck, she’ll overdose soon.’ He said that Annie was an embarrassment to their family. It was her fault for being kidnapped because she was drinking underage with her boyfriend on the cruise. And he didn’t want a daughter who was a heroin addict and a prostitute. No man would ever love her, and she would be a burden to him. She was better off dead.”

My pulse quickened, and I wanted to shoot this motherfucker and save a bullet for Annie’s dad. I was a professional warrior; I knew how to control my emotions. But this was unbelievable.

“Believe me. I begged him to reconsider. I told him we could detox her, and that she’d be hailed a survivor. And with therapy she could integrate back into society. But he wouldn’t consider it. He firmly reminded me of the one million dollar non-disclosure agreement I’d signed. I didn’t have a fucking choice. I haven’t ever told anyone, except you guys. You can’t tell anyone—we have an unbreakable code.”

“I won’t.” He was right. We would never repeat what he was telling us to anyone. Especially since he knew we’d been the ones to rescue Annie. He could ruin our careers. But if I hadn’t told him, he would’ve never talked to me. I needed to know the truth about Mr. Hamilton.

“I racked my brain, thinking of anything I could do to save her. Go rogue, convince my partner Taylor to back me. But he wouldn’t even discuss it, and I couldn’t do it myself. We were ordered to go back a final time to verify with one hundred percent certainty that it was Annie. Which we did.”

He paused and I wondered if he was reminiscing about fucking Annie, remembering her and Nicole going to town on each other. His own personal porno. I watched Matt’s thin lips and I pictured them all over Annie’s body. Her stroking his limp dick. My hand was on the trigger of my gun. Give me an excuse to kill you motherfucker. “Leaving them in that room was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Knowing that I’d found them, but was abandoning them to die. I told the girls I’m sorry, and walked out the door. When I returned to the States, I finished my remaining contracts and quit. I couldn’t work with these people with no integrity. Private contract work is nothing like being in the Teams. There’s no morals, no law.”

I sat there in silence. Completely blown away. I couldn’t even process all the emotions I was feeling.

Finally, I broke the silence. “Nicole died. She overdosed six months later. She’d be alive today if you hadn’t been such a pussy.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I figured she did. I fucking hate myself, man. I drank myself into oblivion, started doing coke. Ended up in rehab. Don’t have a girl, or a job, living off the disability I get from the VA. I mean, being on the Teams was my life. I was a great SEAL. I’m sure you guys know that, if you did your research on me. Nothing was more important to me than being the best warrior I could be. I pushed away my girlfriend, my family, my friends. Always used the excuse that she couldn’t be faithful when I was away, or that I would be a horrible husband because of my job. That’s my other regret, besides not saving Annie and Nicole, is not marrying my girlfriend. I stalked my ex on Facebook recently. She’s a great woman, married to a Marine, has two beautiful boys. I fucking loved her, but I completely fucked that relationship up. Cheated on her, lied to her. Thought everyone should kiss the ground I walked on and just take my bullshit, because I was a SEAL. I used to be just like you guys, and now I’m just the old Team guy in the bar, reliving my glory days when I play So Com in my studio apartment.”

I’d had enough. Didn’t want to listen to his sob story anymore, feeling sorry for himself. But every word he said resonated with me. “You could’ve saved her. Despite her dad. At least fucking told someone, anyone she was alive. You condemned her to three more years of hell. And Nicole’s death is on you. There is no excuse for that. ‘I serve with honor on and off the battlefield.’ Remember our code?”

He squinted his eyes. “Don’t fucking judge me. You’re just like me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“No, Matt. I’m nothing like you. I met Annie in a brothel, too. Hired her. But unlike you, I came back. I saved her. I risked my job, my life for her. That’s what we do. That’s our oath.”

“I voluntarily accept the inherent hazards of my profession, placing the welfare and security of others before my own.”

I needed to get the fuck out of his truck. Imagining his hands all over my Annie made me want to pop him in the head. “I won’t tell anyone. Not for your sake, for Annie’s. You better continue to keep your mouth shut.”

We bailed shortly after. I’d given my word to Matt that I wouldn’t tell Annie that I met him. And I never lied to SEALs, even former ones. I had to come up with another route. And I needed to deal with her father. But before I went one step further, I had to figure out how I felt about Annie. It was time for me to step up and commit. To her.

24.

I stopped at the florist near my house to get Annie flowers. I chose a bouquet of wild flowers, nothing too pure and pretty. Carefree, damaged, and finally free, just like her. Matt had rattled me. I didn’t want to end up like him. I was starting to think that Annie was my perfect match, strong, loyal, a survivor. And her fine ass didn’t hurt either.

I opened the door and Annie was sitting out on my small balcony, Trigger at her feet. She wasn’t reading, on her phone, or listening to music. I admired her ability to just enjoy each moment of freedom, without having to always be busy. I needed to learn to do that.

“Hey babe.”

Her face lit up when she saw me. She bounded over to me and gave me a kiss. “These are gorgeous. Thank you. How was work?”

I winced. I hated lying to her. I vowed to be honest with her from now on, but I couldn’t tell her where I’d been. I’d given Matt my word. “Good. An old Team guy stopped by. Hey, let’s get out of here. I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with work I haven’t taken you anywhere since we’ve been back. Anything you’ve been dying to do since you’ve returned?” I had plenty of suggestions, but they all seemed wrong. My first thought was Sea World but I doubted that Annie wanted to spend the day watching animals kidnapped and forced into captivity to perform tricks for strangers.

“Disneyland? I have to, for Nicole.”

Shit. I hadn’t been to Disneyland since I was a kid. I’d take Annie there since it meant something to her, but I had a better idea. “Pack a bag. Let’s go.”

Her face brightened. I surprised myself by how much I enjoyed making her happy.

I sent Kyle a quick text.

An hour later, we were headed up the I-5 to Anaheim.

We pulled into the Downtown Disney Parking lot and dropped Trigger off at the Disneyland Kennels just right outside the gate. We headed straight over to Disney California Adventure Park. I’d never been here. We used our fast pass for Soarin’ Over California, which I actually loved: seeing all the beautiful parks, lakes, monuments of my home state made me happy to be back home. Normally when I was on leave, I was itching to return back to sea. But for the first time in memory, I was taking joy in everyday life. Spending time with Annie made everything more enjoyable.

We hit some more rides, hopped over to Disneyland, and grabbed a quick bite to eat.

Annie was enjoying herself, but I knew this wasn’t really her scene. She hated crowds, and was pretty jumpy with the loud noises from the rides. She was doing this for Nicole.

“I’m ready to go, Pat. But I need to do something first.”

We walked to the main entrance of Disneyland, and Annie’s eyes were glued to the ground. There were hundreds of tiny memorial pavers. She paced up and down the rows and finally stopped. There was a small one that read: The Race Family. December 8, 2006.

Annie knelt down and traced the stone with her hands. Tears filled her eyes. I didn’t want to ruin her moment, so I stood back, unsure of what to say. She took out some Krazy Glue from her purse. She removed the necklace I gave her in the brothel, took the chain off, and glued it to Nicole’s paver.

Shit, it even made me want to cry.

Annie took a picture of the paver and walked away.

After around ten minutes, Annie stood up. “We can go now.”

“That was sweet, Annie.”

“Yeah. I wanted her to have it. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for her. She always talked about that vacation. How much fun they had all had and she was determined to come back here. I still haven’t seen her parents. Would you go with me to see them?”

“Of course.”

“That would be great. Thank you for taking me.”

I put my arm around her. We picked up Trigger at the kennels, and headed back to the car.

She put her seat belt on. “Where are we staying?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“I hate surprises. We’re not staying near Disneyland?”

“Why don’t you crash? It’s a long drive. We’ll be there by morning.”

She tapped her fingers on the window. “Okay. This better be good.” She leaned in and gave me a kiss.

I stopped by a drive through Starbucks, ordered a Venti black coffee, and a few bottles of water for the drive.

Eight hours later at six a.m., we had arrived at our destination. She was passed out in the seat next to me.

“Wake up, Sunshine. We’re here.”

She rubbed her eyes, and blinked a few times to gain sight. The vast, pure lake glimmered in the sunrise.

“Pat! Tahoe! You remembered?”

“Of course. I never forget anything. Kyle has a buddy with a cabin in Incline Village. We have it for the whole week.”

“The week? That’s amazing. Don’t you have to go back to work? You’ve been working every day.”

She didn’t know that we had complete block leave, and all the times I’d told her I’d been at work, I was acting on a hunch I had about her family. “We have a week of leave. It’s just you and me.” I paused. I felt horrible keeping this secret from her, but I couldn’t tell her. “Annie. I’ve been lying to you.”

Her face dropped. “About what.”

“I told you that I didn’t want a relationship while I was on the Teams. But, I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’m willing to try.”

She leaned to my seat and wrapped her arms around my neck, planting a kiss on my cheeks. “One thing I learned in captivity was to not focus on the future or the past. Just take one day at a time. I’m happy with you today. We don’t need to plan out the rest of our lives. As long as you want to be with me now, that’s enough for me.”

I kissed her back, couldn’t wait to get her into the cabin. Annie was unlike any girl I’d ever known, she didn’t expect anything of me, didn’t try to change me, and accepted me for who I was. Maybe being with me the three months out of the year that I didn’t deploy would be enough to make her happy. I was crazy about her.

But I had to confront her father, protect her from him. And I knew I would shatter Annie’s carefully rebuilt world.

Kyle left out a detail about the owner of the cabin—apparently the guy was loaded. Probably one of his NFL buddies. This place was on the water in Incline Village, a hotspot of wealthy Silicon Valley executives. My mom and I used to stay in a crappy motel in South Lake Tahoe, but I loved it anyway. This cabin had stonework, beautiful hard wood floors, seven bedrooms, a gourmet kitchen, a game room, an exercise room, a wine cellar, and a master bedroom with a private fireplace.

I needed to sleep. I let Trigger out back in the yard. “Can you bring Trigger back in when he is done?”

“Yes.”

I brought our bags in, and went upstairs to take a shower.

I took off my clothes and turned on the hot water. Should I confront her dad? It was pointless really. He would either lie and deny it or admit it and retaliate against Matt. No wonder he hated my guts, probably knew I would figure his bullshit out. Some may look at us enlisted SEALs as nothing more than brawn, but to get through BUD/S, you had to be intelligent.

But if I told Annie, she would have no one left in her life but me—and that was if she believed me. I thought she would, but you never know. Blood is thicker than water. Who would be there for her when I was gone?

I stepped out of the shower and went into the bedroom. The fireplace was already on. And Annie was sitting on the bed in some damn sexy lingerie. Pink silk nightie trimmed with black lace, split up high on her thigh.

I stopped in the doorway to watch as she smoothed lotion over her legs and it occurred to me that I wouldn't mind seeing her do this every night. I'd heard the poor bastards in team wax poetic about coming home to their wives and it wasn't until I saw her looking at home in the bed that I realized what they meant.

She looked up and saw me watching her. "Hey, hero. What are you doing?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I walked over to the bed and knelt at the edge next to her. She stilled, then set the lotion on the nightstand and angled towards me. I wasn't rushed to fuck her like the day at the beach. It wasn't about satiating a hunger. I wanted to show her what I was feeling, but didn't have the words to say.

She watched me with big eyes while I urged her to lay back on the bed with the press of a hand against her shoulder. With the tips of my fingers I followed the lines of her jaw, down her throat and dipped inside the silk of the lingerie to cup her full breast. Her back arched off of the bed to fill my hand more completely.

God, she was perfect.

I circled her puckered nipple with my finger, teasing it to a point. Her feet grasped for purchase on the slippery sheets of the luxurious bed when I pinched the nipple between two fingers and rolled. She cried out in surprise and I sat beside her to take her into my mouth. She clasped her hands behind my head to hold me to her chest.

I didn't know how much longer I would have with her, if we would make it. I didn't know if I could get her through this shit with her parents or if I'd even survive my next deployment. Both thoughts shot twin sparks of fear through my chest. As I held her in my arms and brought her to the peak of pleasure, I vowed that I would do what I can to keep her safe.

No matter the cost.

With a single-minded determination, I stripped her of the sexy little nightie and discarded my clothes on the floor. She wrapped herself around me as I climbed in and situated her so that her back was pressed to my front. I slid a hand underneath her and between her legs so that I could tease her with little flicks over her clit. She pressed her head back against my neck and her arched her ass into my crotch.

I positioned my cock at her entrance and teased her with an inch at a time. Dipping in slowly and pulling out until she didn't know whether to slam herself onto me or tip her hips forward for more pleasure from my fingers. I surrounded her on all sides. With my cock, my arms, pressed tightly against her back and my mouth whispering erotic suggestions into her ear.

When her chest began to heave and her legs started to shake, I began thrusting with increased speed. She placed a hand where our bodies were connected and the feeling of her fingers wrapping around me as I slammed into her almost pushed me over the edge.

With my other hand I trailed the taunt skin of her stomach and her bouncing breasts to her neck. I wrapped my fingers there, not to hurt her or scare her, but to claim her, take her even more completely. She responded wildly, hips jerking, moaning with each thrust until she stiffened against me. I followed behind her with a shout into her hair.

I didn't pull out, instead I laved kisses along her hairline and down the length of her shoulder, steadily working my cock in and out of her as our orgasms subsided.

"Okay, so I wasn't expecting that." She laughed.

I chuckled into her ear. "Then you're really about to be surprised."

"You have to be kidding me. Again?"

I dragged my hardening length out slowly and her breath caught, then slowly worked it back inside as her entire body tensed.

"Ohmygod. Yes. I like surprises."

I didn't and I was growing increasingly worried about what would happen when I wasn't there for her. I pushed it to the back of my mind and instead focused on bringing her to the brink again.

25.

Even though I loved to ski and snowboard, I preferred summer to winter in Tahoe. The water was so blue and clear. We planned to hike on the Horsetail Falls Trail. It was a fairly easy hike, not too crowded that our view would be spoiled.

While I slept in, Annie had woken up early and ran to the store. She bought groceries for the week and made sandwiches for the hike.

We hiked along Pyramid Creek. I peeked through the trees until I found a great swimming hole. No one was around, so we stripped down and went skinny-dipping. We made love under a beautiful small cascade.

I climbed out, got dressed, and found a large, flat boulder for our picnic. I set all the food out, poured two glasses of wine. Annie was still wading in the swimming hole. She looked so blissful. I could stare at her forever.

She finally emerged, looking like one of those water nymphs. She gathered her clothes and I checked out her perky ass.

The sky was didn’t have a cloud in sight, and the crisp air was almost like a drug to me. There were snow-capped mountains in the distance. After nine months at see, I couldn’t image a more beautiful sight. After five years of captivity, I’m sure the view even meant more to Annie.

She took a sip of her wine. “So, when you deploy next month, where are you going?”

“Middle east.”

She nodded. “How will I communicate with you? Do you even have a phone?”

“Well when we are on ship or one of the bases, I can check email. Maybe even use the phone. But if I’m on operation, it might be a month or so with no word.”

Her lip trembled. I knew it would suck for her to get this close to me and then be left without even a way to contact me.

“Can I call someone? I mean to see if you are okay?”

I took a bite of my sandwich. This was a talk we needed to have sooner or later. “Well, the wives have a number to call, and groups to meet at. But there isn’t really something set up for girlfriends.”

She shrugged her shoulders, and turned around to get water out of the backpack. “I get it. I’ll just call Kyle’s mom.”

Dammit. I couldn’t do this to her. She needed support to be with me. Especially since her family completely sucked. There was one way I could make this easier for her. Something I vowed never to do. I tore off some tin foil from the sandwich.

When she turned back around, I had a surprise for her.

“What are you doing?”

I dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me?” I coiled the foil into a ring.

She didn’t respond, just started shaking her head. ““Why are you asking me? So I can get wife updates while you are deployed? That’s ridiculous. No. I don’t want to get married for the wrong reasons.”

“That’s part of it. I want to take care of you. But I have thought about marrying you. And you’re it for me. Say yes.”

“Are you insane? We just got together. A week ago you weren’t even sure if you wanted to ever see me again. You can't be serious."

I didn’t give up—I always got what I wanted. I couldn't stand the thought of her not being safe, not being protected. “Dead serious. Yes or no—I won’t ask again.”

Her top lip contorted. I knew she had feelings for me, but didn’t see this coming a mile away. But she was it for me, in the ways that mattered. And the only way this would ever work out, the only way she would be safe, with my job and her father, is if she became completely mine. “You haven’t even said you love me yet. Do you love me?”

Of course I did. But I couldn’t say it. “You know how I feel about you.”

She closed her eyes. I wished I could climb inside her head. Crush out her bad memories and replace them with good ones. But I couldn’t do that. The only thing I could do was take care of her for the rest of her life, and make sure that no one ever harmed her again.

Her eyes opened—those gorgeous hazel eyes that I’d seen the first night in the brothel. I knew her answer, she didn’t have to speak a word.

Her eyes darted from me to the crappy foil ring.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you a nicer ring. This was all I could come up with.”

“Yes, Pat. Oh my God! I never thought you’d propose. Not ever. I didn’t even think you wanted a girlfriend. You’re crazy, but I love you. Yes.” She climbed in my lap and pushed me over.

“I can’t wait to start planning. When do you get back from your next deployment? It will take at least a year to organize. Don’t worry, my dad will pay for everything.”

Here we go. Of course, I knew that all women wanted to plan their dream wedding. And Annie had enough of her dreams taken away; I didn’t want to burst another. But over my dead body would I let her father pay for one penny.

“That’s the catch. I won’t be back for nine months, maybe ten if we extend. And we have to get married before I go or you won’t get any benefits. I need you taken care of and you're nothing to the military if there isn't a marriage license to back it up. The SEAL wives will welcome you, and the BUD/S instructor SEALs will be there if you need anything. I leave soon. I want to spend as much time with you as my wife as possible. Let’s go now.”

“Now. Here? Today? Without my family? They’ve been through enough without me and now you want to elope?”

I wanted to tell her that I knew for a fact that her dad didn’t give a shit about her and left her to die. But I’d take that secret to my grave. Maybe one day she would learn the truth—but it wouldn’t be from me. No way in hell.

“Yes. Let’s go to Harrah’s. Now. I can’t wait Annie. I don’t think you understand the SEAL community. We will have a ton of paperwork to fill out, have to get your ID card, all your benefits, my life insurance. Get on the housing list, since I’d rather you live on base where they can keep you safe. This is the only way it will work. I can’t be deployed and have you back home without a safety net. There’s an eighty percent divorce rate and I won’t let us be a statistic. I’ll never cheat on you. You don’t have to worry about that. But it won’t be easy. Though compared to what you’ve been through it should be a piece of cake.”

“But my parents—”

I stopped her with a kiss. I didn’t want to hear about her parents. I needed to protect her from them. “Now or never.”

She paused, her lip caught in her teeth, then smiled. “Now. Let’s do it.”

This was the only way I could protect her. Seeing her happy face replace the image in my head of the sad girl in the brothel brought me peace. I rarely had peace or even desired it. My fucking bumper sticker read, “Give War a Chance.”

Annie insisted on finishing the picnic lunch she’d prepared. She said she wanted to savor the moment, remember the place we got engaged. She took photos of the trail, the foil ring, us.

We finally made our way back down the trailhead, found my truck and drove off toward the Douglas County Administration Building to get our wedding license. Annie called en route and we were able to get an appointment, and the chapel had an opening in an hour. Getting our license didn’t take long, and we drove to a jewelry store to get her a ring.

I picked out a small white gold princess cut diamond for her and she bought me a titanium band. I couldn’t afford to get her a huge rock, and I never lived beyond my means. Annie had to be happy with my lifestyle, as a Navy wife. There would be no luxurious vacations and no beachfront mansions. But she’d never starve and I’d always provide for her. And she knew that.

I didn’t feel nervous. I was fucking sure about it. Once I made a decision, I never wavered.

The attendant signaled that we were next. The chapel overlooked the lake.

Annie pulled me aside. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Positive.”

“I never thought I’d get married. I used to think that even if I escaped, no man would ever love me. That I’d always be Star. I’d always be seen as nothing but a whore. Then I met you and you gave me hope. Not hope that you would love me, I didn’t love myself. Just hope that I would one day get my life back. Even after you saved me, I didn’t think there could ever be a chance for us. You seemed so tough, so strong, so invincible. And you’re so sexy. I mean, you look like an action movie star. You could get any girl, why would you want a former hooker? And you constantly said over and over that you didn’t want a relationship until you retired. I figured what happened on that boat was just you taking pity on me. When you told me at the embassy that you never wanted to see me again, I thought that was it. And I was actually trying to make peace with living in a world without you in it, and I focused on getting strong and healthy. Seeing you returning from deployment was bittersweet, because I didn’t think you wanted to even get to know me. I don’t know what switched inside your head, but you’ve made me the happiest woman ever. I’m so happy you chose me in the brothel. Everyday in captivity I played the ‘what if’ game. What if I hadn’t gone on the cruise? What if I hadn’t been drunk that night? What if I hadn’t decided to go take pictures? There are no more ‘what ifs’ in my life. I’m present. I’m here now. And if I could go back in time and choose not to get kidnapped, I wouldn’t change a thing. Because that nightmare brought me to you. To think you were living in San Diego when I was in high school and we never met. Did I see you on the beach? We are meant to be together. Forever. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life trying to make you happy."

I didn’t cry, but I became choked up. I almost told her I loved her but the officiant interrupted our moment and came back to the center of the chapel and started the ceremony.

Annie glowed. We were still dressed in our hiking clothes, but this was our wedding, our way. I’d give her the wedding of her dreams when I returned from deployment. But I’d pay for everything, and her parents wouldn’t be invited.

It came time to say our vows. I repeated what the officiant told me.

“Do you, Patrick Joseph Walsh, take this woman whose hand you now hold, to be your true and wedded wife; and do you solemnly promise before God and these witnesses to LOVE, CHERISH, HONOR AND PROTECT HER: to forsake all others for her sake; to cleave unto her, and her only, with her forever until death shall part you?”

My heart pounded in my chest. “I do.”

“Do you Analía Rose Hamilton, take this man who now holds your hand, to be your true and wedded husband; and do you solemnly promise before God and these witnesses to LOVE, CHERISH, HONOR AND PROTECT HIM, to forsake all others for his sake; to cleave unto him and him only, and him forever until death shall part you?”

Annie beamed. “I do.”

The officiant finished the ceremony. We exchanged rings. And then he said the words I was waiting to hear.

“Therefore, by the power vested in me by the laws of the state of Nevada, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.”

I cupped Annie’s face and kissed her. She jumped on me and I twirled her around.

“I present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Walsh.”

There was no one in the chapel but I didn’t give a fuck. Annie was mine now. Forever. She was a Walsh. And no one would ever hurt her again.

26.

A few days later, I woke up with her in my arms. Her head was tucked under my chin and she was curled up in front of me, leg thrown over my thighs and hair strewn across my pillow. Normally, and I know it makes me a fucking douche to say this, but I wasn't the type to have a woman stay over at my apartment. I couldn't afford those kind of connections due to the amount of time I was on assignment. I simply didn't want the complication. With Annie, though, I didn't have any objections to waking up with her shit all over my house or having her in my bed.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me. I needed the connection that only she seemed to be able to provide. The movement startled her and her eyes shot open and she gasped. When she realized that it was me her body relaxed and she gave me a sleepy smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"What time is it?"

"It's early. I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's okay." She snuggled closer and kissed my jaw line. "This is nice. What do we have planned today?"

"Well, I figured that we could stop by my mom's on the way back to San Diego, say hi. I haven't called her since I got back and she would probably want to know that her baby boy has gotten himself married to a beautiful woman."

She jerked backwards. "You haven't called your mom? Patrick Walsh how could you!" She paused, then her eyes widened and she rolled out of bed. "Oh my God I have to get dressed."

I grabbed for her but she pulled away and started babbling to herself as she sorted through her things. "Baby, come on. She's not going to care what you look like, I promise."

"Says you. Of course she's going to care what I look like. I can't meet your mom for the first time looking like...like...like a hooker!"

She grabbed a pile of things and headed towards the bathroom, but I jumped out of bed and stopped her. "All she will see are the same things that I see when I look at you. Someone who is strong, loyal, and kind. I don't want you to freak out about this and trust me, she will think that you're the best woman on earth."

Tears filled her eyes and I crushed her to my chest. "Please don't worry," I told her. "She's going to love you."

She sniffled. "I still really need to get ready. I can't just go over there looking like a mess."

"You look beautiful in anything."

"Fine."

I followed her into the bathroom. "But I should do my husbandly duty and help you."

So I did. Enthusiastically.

Later, we pulled up to my house. It looked the same, and even though it was a dump, it was home to me. My mom had scrapped away everything to buy this place, because she wanted me to have a permanent home.

My mom ran out the door. Her hair had a few more gray streaks than the last time I’d seen her. “Pat, I’m so happy you’re home. Is this your new girlfriend?”

When I called to tell her I was coming by, I had simply said that I was bringing someone special. I owed it to my mom to tell her in person. “Mom, this is Annie. Annie Walsh.”

My mom clutched my arm. Her eyes immediately darted to Annie’s left ring finger and then to her belly. “You eloped and didn’t tell me? Pat, how could you?”

“Sorry, mom. I proposed last week and we got married that day. Wanted to do it before I deployed again and we were in Nevada. We’ll have a big wedding later.”

My mom and I had always been close. She knew my views on marriage and that I would never ever enter into it lightly. I’d been raised to respect women. Even if I had veered off course. “Am I going to be a grandmother?”

“Jesus, mom. No. She’s not pregnant.”

Annie stood by my side. Her own parents were so icy. I figured she didn’t even know what to say to my mom.

“Well come inside.” My mom hugged Annie. “Welcome to the family. I always wanted a daughter.”

“It’s an honor to meet you Mrs. Walsh.”

“Please, Annie. Call me Tracy. Or Mom if you feel comfortable. I have to get to know the woman that tamed my son.”

We went inside and sat on the sofa. My mom had prepared all my favorites: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, zucchini boats, chocolate chip cookies. All from scratch.

Annie went into the bathroom to freshen up and my mom pulled me inside the kitchen.

“That’s Annie Hamilton? The girl from the news who was kidnapped and forced into sex slavery? Patrick Joseph Walsh, were you the one who saved her?”

I could never lie to my mom. “Yes.”

I don’t know how most moms would react to finding out that their son had married a former prostitute, even it the girl had been kidnapped. But my mom wasn’t most moms.

“I’m proud of you, son. You’re a great man. As a woman, I’m even prouder of the fact that you can love her and look beyond her past. Not many men would be able to do that, and treat her with respect. She’s lovely. I love you.”

“Love you too, mom.” I still hadn’t told Annie I loved her. I was her husband and I still couldn’t do it. What was holding me back? I told myself that I was waiting for the right time. But I wondered if there was something else in my subconscience that was preventing me from truly opening up to her.

Annie emerged and sat down the sofa. My mom brought out old photo albums and decided to embarrass the shit out of me.

“Here’s Pat with his favorite teddy bear.”

Annie loved the old pictures. I just sat back and watched her bond with my mom. If I’d taken that reward money her dad offered, I could’ve bought my mom a new house. But she’d never accept it from me. I wished I could take care of her.

“So what was Pat like as a kid?”

This was fun.

“Pat was very sweet and sensitive. Very attached to me. Loved trains and dogs. Always tried to protect me.”

“So pretty much exactly how he is now.”

I laughed. “I’m hardly sweet.”

“You are too. And super romantic. He remembers everything I say, though he usually doesn’t react. But then months later, boom. All my dreams come true.”

My mom was eating this up. I barely had time to see her anymore so I think getting a glimpse into my life was fascinating to her.

After humiliating me a bit more, we finally went to bed. Had to wake up early the next morning and hit the road.

“Well Annie, it’s been a pleasure. Please, you’re welcome in my home anytime. When Pat deploys, I hope you will come up here and visit me. I want to get to know you.”

“I’d love that.”

They hugged. Then my mom turned to me.

“I love you, Patrick. Stay safe. I’m so proud of you.”

“Love you, too.”

Annie and I went to my childhood room and snuggled up in bed. My little league awards were still on the shelves, a cheesy poster of a topless Britney Spears wearing nothing but white cotton panties trimmed with pink lace hung on the wall. Exactly as I had remembered.

Annie glanced around the room. Probably wondering why my room was stuck in a time warp and hers had been turned into a museum. “I love your mom. She’s so different from mine. Sweet and warm.”

This was my opportunity. I had to tell her. But I just couldn’t. She seemed so happy and I didn't want to ruin it.

“She’s your family now. When I’m gone, she means it, if you get lonely, fly up here. She’ll take care of you. I need you to promise me that you’ll come see her.”

“Of course, I will.” She kissed me. “I’m worried about telling my parents we eloped. You’re coming with me, right?”

Damn straight. She wasn’t setting foot in that house without me. And if my talk with her father went as I expected it would, I doubted that she’d ever see them again. “You can count on it.”

She drifted to sleep in my arms. Before I met Annie, my only goal in life was to survive and protect my fellow men. But now, my attention was split. I felt torn by my desire to protect her and loyalty to my Team. Maybe this is why I’d always felt that the Navy didn’t want the SEALs to have wives or families, despite what they said about the importance of a support system. Because if I had to choose between my Team and Annie, without a doubt I’d choose her.

27.

After we left my mom’s house, we spent a day in Marin County and then took scenic Highway 1 along the coast back to San Diego. I couldn’t wait to come back from deployment, plan a real honeymoon with Annie. No Caribbean cruise, that was for sure. We talked about spending time in Carmel-by-the-Sea, Half Moon Bay, Big Sur, and Santa Barbara.

Annie wanted to go straight to her parents’ house. I debated convincing her to wait a few days, but I’m sure she’d fight with me. That was fine. I wanted to get this over with.

I dropped Trigger off at my house. Annie called and told her parents that we were going to be stopping by for her to pick up the rest of her stuff.

My mind raced. I had to be smart and watch what I said. I’d given Matt my word. I was leaving in a few weeks and I wanted to make sure that her father was out of her life. Before I met Annie, I’d planned to apply to the world famous SEAL Team Six, as known as DEVGRU. They were stationed in Virginia Beach and it would be great to put distance between Annie and her dad. I’d just become eligible—they required five years of stellar service in the Teams and the selection process took six to eight months. But those SEALs were the real badasses, the ones that took down Bin Laden during Operation Neptune Spear. It would mean even more time training, even less time with Annie. But it was a career goal of mine. I would make my decision once I came back from this next deployment, and I knew that Annie would support my decision one hundred percent.

The gate opened to Annie’s parents’ house. Last time I came here, I was nervous. This time I came here, I was pissed. Let’s roll.

We walked up the stairs to the front door. Before Annie could get out her key, the door opened. Her dad stood in front of us, with his nostrils flaring.

“What are you doing here, Annie? I told you not to set foot again in this house as long as you were seeing him.”

What the fuck? I glared at Annie. She’d only seen them once since she started staying with me, when she went over the first night to pick up her clothes. She’d told me they’d warned her about me but she’d never mentioned that they’d forbid her to see me or given her an ultimatum. I guess we both kept our secrets to protect each other.

“I’m not seeing him, Dad. I’m married to him. He’s my husband.”

Annie’s mom popped around the corner. “Annie, baby, how could you elope?”

I still couldn’t figure her out—did she know that her husband found her and left her there to die? She was cold also, redecorating her room. My impression is that she cared more about her image than her own daughter, but I could be off base.

“Mr. Walsh, I’d like a word with you.”

“My pleasure.” I’d like a word with him also. I’d also like to put a bullet in his head.

Mr. Hamilton took me into his office this time. I’m sure he had a gun under his mahogany desk. Not worried, my weapon was concealed and accessible.

He sat in his black leather chair, poured himself a shot of whiskey from the bottle on his desk.

He bared his teeth at me. “I thought I told you to stay away from Annie. You trying to get more money out of me boy? Name your price. Then you can tell Annie you made a mistake and get an annulment.”

“I don’t have a price, motherfucker.”

“Fine, you leave me no other choice than to accidently leak your involvement of her rescue to the press. You’re career will be ruined and I’ll make damn sure you’re kicked out of the Teams.”

I cocked my head. This guy not only left his daughter to live in hell, but wanted to ruin any chances she had of happiness. But I wasn’t threatened. “No you won’t. Because I’m not the only one with a secret. I know everything about your, uhm how shall I put it, how hard you tried to save Annie. Do the words Neptune Group mean anything to you?”

His hands shook the whisky glass and I was certain it was going to break. “How dare you, you cocky son of a bitch? Come into my house and threaten me? No one would believe you.”

I laughed. “Try me.”

His posture slumped and he ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what you think you know but you’re wrong. I tried everything to save her, they couldn’t find her, that’s the God’s honest truth.”

“You can lie to me all you want. But you left her there to die. I’m not an idiot, something didn’t sit right with me. We have eyes everywhere, remember that.”

“What do you want, Walsh?”

“Simple, won’t cost you a penny. Stay the fuck away from Annie. If I hear that you so much as text her, I’ll come after you. I’m not sure if your wife is in on this, but if she reaches out to Annie, that’s fine. I’m making this easy on you. Tell her that you can never accept me as her husband and make her chose between you and me. She’ll chose me. The only reason I’m not telling Annie the truth is to protect her, not you. It would crush her, and she’s been through enough and I refuse to add to her pain. I’m deploying soon, but Annie will be safe here with my buddies. If I find out you try to hurt her in any way, you won’t live to regret it. Understood?”

He nodded but wisely remained silent.

“Good talk.” I walked out of the room. Annie’s mom was talking to her about throwing a wedding reception.

“Come on, Annie. Let’s go.”

“Already? I haven’t packed my stuff.”

“I’ll buy you new stuff.”

Annie’s dad walked out of his office. I gave him a stern look.

“He’s right, Annie. Leave. We don’t want to see you again. I can never accept Pat into this family. You made your choice when you married him. You’re dead to us.”

Bastard had probably been waiting to officially declare her dead.

Annie bit her lip, but she didn’t break down. It was almost as if she expected this.

“I love Pat and if you can’t accept him, I don’t care. I learned to live without you once, I’ll do it again. Sometimes I think you both wish I never came back. I was worth more to you dead than alive. Pat’s the only one who loves me. Don’t ever contact me again.”

She clutched on to me and we walked out the front door. I hoped we never had to see them again.

We got into my truck and cruised down to my place. She looked out the window. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry, Annie.”

“It’s not your fault. I meant what I said in there. I love you and I don't care what they think. He'll never accept you and I don't really care."

I placed my hand on her thigh. I was all she had now. I wasn’t one of these men who wanted to isolate his woman from her family and friends. I wished Annie’s family were decent people and I was fine if she wanted to maintain contact with Chris. But as long as I lived, no one would ever hurt Annie again.

28.

Deployment day was here. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone, but at least seven months. Annie and I had spent a great month together. We were assigned a wonderful housing off base in Point Loma, near Liberty Station. It was a three-bedroom townhouse with a small yard for Trigger. I introduced Annie to all the SEAL wives and of course they loved her. They saw her just how I did. As a survivor. The SEAL wives had promised to keep her busy while I was away. Maybe I had been wrong about marriages in our community. Yes, most fail. But the ones that worked, were because of the strongest, most loyal women. And I knew Annie was stronger than them all.

Annie started taking college classes again. She was majoring in sociology, which sounded depressing and useless to me, but who was I to judge? I had a high school diploma and had no need for a college degree. Annie also threw herself into yoga and volunteering at the animal shelter. Our love grew deeper by the day and for the first time since I’d become a SEAL, I dreaded deploying and leaving her.

Kyle and Vic would be deploying with me. They were both still tragically single, which was ironic since I was the one of the three of us who’d been most dead set against a relationship.

Annie stood outside on our tiny balcony. The breeze blew Annie’s hair off her face. She was wearing a sundress that showed off her tan skin. She looked up to me, and her crooked smile that I’d first noticed in the brothel melted me.

“I’m going to miss you, Pat.”

“Me too.” I kissed her slowly. I need this kiss to take me through a long deployment.

Her arms wrapped around me. She held me tight, and nibbled my ear. I loved it when she did that. She reached out and grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom.

I was about to undress her and make love to her for the final time before I left. But she stopped me and knelt in front of me on the bed.

She took me in her mouth, and I gasped. No condom, no barrier between us. I felt guilty receiving pleasure from her, so I hadn’t let her go down on me since the night in the brothel.

I stopped her and made her look at me. “You don’t have to do this Annie.”

“I want to, Pat. I missed you so much it hurt. I love you. I want to please you. I’m your wife.”

She wrapped her lips around me, her tongue dancing again. My mind flashed to that night in the brothel. We’d come full circle. Same girl, same amazing technique. But this time, instead of imagining that she was my faithful, loving, girlfriend, that she lived for pleasing me, and that being with me even for just a few months out of the year was worth enduring the loneliness when I was gone, it was real. She was real. She was mine. She respected being a SEAL was my calling, and she didn’t want to change me.

I pushed her off me. I had something to tell her.

“I love you, Annie.”

She squealed, probably thought she would never hear those words coming out of my mouth. Hell, I never thought I’d say them.

But I meant it. I loved her.

She was no longer my mission.

She was my wife.

The End

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the love of my life, my husband, Roger, a real Marine hero. Thank you for being such a wonderful husband to me and the best daddy to our sons. For watching the boys while I write. For keeping me caffeinated during late night writing sessions. I love you.

To Nicole Blanchard. This book would not have been written without you. For your initial blurb challenge, to your endless tolerance for my what ifs, your social media prowess, your sex scene edits. But mostly for being such an amazing woman and friend.

I would like to thank my amazing editor, Deborah Halverson, for the fast edits and endless support.

To my two beautiful sons, Connor and Caleb for your smiles, your laughter, your hugs and kisses.

To my betas: Erin, Mia, Geri, Margreet, Feifei, Stacia, Linda, and Carly: thank you all for your honest critiques and making this the best story it could be.

My sister-in-law Susie Chulick, for motivating me to finish this book.

To all the wonderful bloggers who have promoted Invincible: Totally Booked, Aestas, Sinfully Sexy, Lezley-Lynn’s Book Blog, and the countless others that have posted about my book.

To Indie Sage Promotions for handling all the promotion for the book.

To all the fans who have written me about Invincible. Thank you for all your support.

About The Author

Alana Albertson is a multi-award winning author and the former President of Romance Writers of America’s Chick Lit and Young Adult chapters. She holds a Masters of Education from Harvard and a Bachelor of Arts in English from Stanford. A recovering professional ballroom dancer, Alana currently writes new adult, contemporary romance and young adult fiction. She lives in San Diego, California, with her husband, two sons, and four dogs. When she’s not spending her time needlepointing, dancing, or saving dogs from high kill shelters through her rescue Pugs N Roses, she can be found watching episodes of House Hunters, Homeland, or Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team. Please visit her website at www.alanaalbertson.com

Content

Invincible
The Trident Code: Book 1
Alana Albertson

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

Acknowledgements

About The Author