Second Chance SEAL(140)

I’d decided to make that a little more official when I made her Mason’s godmother.

“How were your classes?” she asked.

“Good. It felt weird being back there,” I said honestly. “I remember being an actual college student before this little guy.”

Lindy grinned. “Yeah. Feels weird being graduated. I still sometimes think I’m going out to a kegger over the weekend.”

“You’re saying you don’t?”

“Only sometimes.”

Just then, Mason started to make a face. I knew what that meant, and I quickly took him from Lindy. “He’s about to cry,” I said, “and he needs a change.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s all you, mommy.”

I flipped her off, smiling, and took Mason upstairs to his changing spot just as he began to cry.

I quickly carried him into the nursery. I laid him down on his back, humming slightly to him, and changed his diaper.

This was my life now: diaper changes and breastfeeding and walks through the nearby park.

And as I changed his diaper, I realized that I was happy. Having Mason seemed so daunting and terrifying at first, but my parents and Lindy had been so supportive, so helpful.

I wouldn’t give up Mason for anything. I loved him more than I could say, and he’d changed my life for the better.

The only thing missing was his father. Even though I had given up on finding that ghost, I still sometimes thought back to that night fondly. I wished I could find Emory and at least tell him that he had a son.

But that was never going to happen. Mason might never know his father, and I was going to have to be okay with that.

It just meant I was going to love Mason enough for two people.





Chapter 2





Emory





Sunlight streamed in from the big windows overlooking my sparse bedroom. I woke up with it shining right in my face, making the hangover headache tingling in my skull that much worse.

I grunted, sitting up and putting a hand on my head. To my right, the girl from the night before stirred but didn’t wake.

I glanced at her. Thin, blond, and tan; pretty fucking standard for California. I remembered she’d been a pretty good fuck, even though she was vapid as fucking shit.

I slipped out of bed, trying not to wake her up. I didn’t feel like listening to her voice so fucking early in the morning. I went into the bathroom, shut the door behind me, and took a nice long piss.

Being a Navy SEAL meant I didn’t get to spend much time at home. Most of my life was spent abroad doing my country’s work. My ass was Uncle Sam’s, and I wouldn’t have had it any other fucking way.

But that meant my apartment wasn’t exactly decorated. I had the necessities, like a bed, a couch, and a TV, but there wasn’t much else. I didn’t need much, since I barely even stayed there for more than a few days at a time.

But now that I was getting some R&R, I almost didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself. I had a whole month off from work, a little gift from the upper brass for my quality work out in Pakistan over the last sixteen months.

I looked in the mirror and splashed some water on my face. Emory Rush, cold-blooded killer, terrorist hunter, and captain of SEAL Team Eight. I specialized in hunting down and eliminating terrorists in the Pakistani tribal regions, and for the last fourteen months me and my team had been embedded in the northern part of Pakistan, right outside of Waziristan, hunting a particularly deadly group called The Network.

The mission had been a rousing fucking success. The Network had been one step ahead of my team and me for years, always escaping us just before we could take all those terrorist fucks out. But in Pakistan, we finally got the drop on them, killing a few important, key members and dealing a huge blow to their organization.

But it had cost us a lot. I could still hear the death and the bullets screaming around me as we stormed their compound. I lost two comrades and squad mates that day, and those men would never be forgotten.

Now I had some time off, and all I wanted to do was get back out there. The Network was hurt, but they weren’t destroyed. I wanted nothing more than to avenge my brothers, to tear apart the bastards that had killed them. I wanted to get back into battle.

I heard the girl in the other room stirring, and I smirked to myself. I figured so long as I was stuck back in the States, I might as well try to enjoy myself.

And there was no better way to have a good time than drinking too much whisky and fucking every willing slut I could find.

I pushed open the bathroom door and leaned up against the frame. The girl stirred and sat up, her hair spilling down around her shoulders, her nice tits bare above the sheets.

“Morning,” she said.