Second Chance SEAL(131)

Finally, I worked up the courage. “I love you,” I said.

He leaned back and smiled. “I’m in love with you too, Hartley.” He kissed me once, softly, on the lips. “Now let’s go fuck up some assholes, yeah?”

I grinned at him. “Yeah.”

This was it. From here on out, we were in this together. The words were out there, though I knew the feelings had been out there already as well. He knew how I felt, and deep down, I knew how he felt, too. There was no denying it, not anymore.

This was how it had to happen. He was meant to find me that day in the parking lot, meant to guide me through this, meant to save me. He was meant to teach me things about myself that I never knew before.

He was meant to make me the person I was supposed to be.

Travis, my SEAL, my arrogant asshole. It was supposed to have been just one night.

I hoped it was going to be many more.





Chapter 26





Travis





A few hours later, I glanced at Hartley across the cab of the big rig. She was strapped into the passenger seat and was doing her best not to look too nervous.

Everything was in place. Gage and Flynn knew their jobs and were already in position. Meanwhile, the truck’s cargo container was full of men strapped with serious weapons. Janey had decided to come herself, which impressed me. She looked fierce standing next to her two brothers, wearing body armor and holding a sawed-off shotgun.

I reached over and took Hartley’s hand. She smiled weakly at me as the truck rumbled down the old, bumpy road. Ahead, the factory loomed through from the hills, empty and crumbling.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but I managed to get the truck in through the narrow fence opening and backed slowly into the factory’s open first floor. There used to be big doors for deliveries, back in the day, but they had been torn off and tossed aside years ago.

The factory was essentially a giant steel tent, open to the elements on each side, with a crumbling roof over the top. It once made sneakers and leather boots, but now it just sat empty. Sometimes people went inside to break bottles and to smoke meth, but mostly it was home to opossums, squirrels, and millions of bugs.

Like most of the time, it was empty. There was no sign of the Dixie Mafia, though we were right on time. There were no cars coming up the road, nothing parked nearby. I reached up and touched the earpiece I had in my ear.

“Gage, you hear me?”

“Roger that, boss,” Gage answered.

“What do you see?”

“Owls and one big fucking truck.”

“Any sign of them?”

“Negative. Though we’ve only been here for ten minutes.”

“Roger that. Over and out.”

I put my hand back down and glanced at Hartley. “Nothing yet,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get out.”

“Wait.” She reached over and took my hand. “Whatever happens, we stick together. Right?”

I nodded. “No matter what.”

She nodded back, let go of my hand, and then climbed out of the truck.

As I got out of my side, suddenly something felt off. I heard a creak nearby and a muffled step.

My hand was on my gun as two thugs stepped out of the shadows, machine guns trained on me.

“Don’t,” the one said.

I slowly raised my hands.

More men came out of the shadows. I counted five in total on this side of the truck. The main thug roughly pushed me toward the front, and I saw Hartley coming around the other side, a gun pressed to her back.

As we stood in front of the truck, surrounded by eight men, all armed to the teeth, three more men came walking out from the shadows.

I recognized Hoyt instantly. The other two men I couldn’t place. They walked over and stopped in front of us. Hoyt looked nervous as hell and avoided eye contact.

One of the men I didn’t recognize stepped forward. He was about five foot five, burly and hairy, but was balding. He wore a dapper three-piece suit and was holding a cane.

“So,” he said, “this is the guy who demanded I show up.”

My heart nearly skipped a beat. This was him, Merton, the head of the Dixie Mafia in Knoxville.

“That’s me,” I said. “I come bearing gifts.”

He laughed. “You fucking better.” He looked at the other man I didn’t recognize. “Arlo, what do you think of our friend here?”

Arlo was taller, thinner, and tan. His skin almost looked like leather, he was so dark. His black hair was long and tied back in a ponytail.

“Seems like an asshole,” he said simply.

Merton laughed. “Yeah. He sure does.”

“Are we doing business or not?” I asked. “I didn’t come here to waste my fucking time.”

“You’re wasting my time by asking for me to come here, so you’ll deal with this, you fucking little prick.”