CHAPTER THIRTY
Gabby stood at the edge of the pool, the cool water shimmering under the afternoon sun. Her heart raced as she stretched her arms and legs, focusing on loosening up before the final leg of her Physical Fitness Test. She’d already passed the push-ups, sit-ups, and the mile-and-a-half run, crushing each event with scores that beat the male requirements for her age group. Only one test remained—the swim.
She needed to swim four hundred yards in under twelve minutes. But what others didn’t know is that she had been training for the men’s requirement of five hundred yards in under twelve minutes. Before her injury she could do it with no problem. But now she was borderline. Her practice times kept coming in just over the twelve minutes mark.
She rolled her shoulders, trying to ignore the nerves fluttering in her stomach. It wasn’t just about passing the test anymore. Ever since she left the hospital, Gabby had been training for this moment. Not to stave off the inevitable—her medical discharge was still coming, no matter how fast she swam—but to prove that she wasn’t broken. To silence all the doubters, the haters like Vice Admiral Alley, who had dismissed her the moment she was injured. Oh, how good it would feel to rub this in his face, she thought.
Her mind flashed to the physical therapy sessions, the grueling hours spent in the pool, and the early morning runs where her body screamed in protest, but she pushed through anyway. All of it had been leading to this. One final test. One final “screw you” to those who thought she couldn't do it.
Gabby bent down to adjust her goggles and caught movement in the bleachers out of the corner of her eye. A crowd had gathered, and it was larger than she’d anticipated. She squinted, trying to make out the faces, and her heart swelled when she saw Captain Graham and her team sitting front and center, already clapping and shouting out words of encouragement to her. And then there was Playboy, standing tall among his SEAL team at the top of the bleachers. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was sporting a proud smile. Clover was there too, sitting with Tink and a few of his guys from his security firm. Even her parents had come. Seeing all those people made her stomach twist with pride and nervousness. They are all here because they believe in me.
But those in the stands weren’t just her supporters. A small, sour-faced group sat at the opposite end. And sitting right in the middle, glaring at her with a look of pure contempt, was Vice Admiral Alley. She wondered how he even knew she was taking the test. His presence sent a wave of irritation through her, but she shook it off. She couldn’t afford any distractions. Let him watch, she thought. She was about to make his life very uncomfortable.
Gabby had decided not to wear her swimming prosthetic. She could’ve used it. And it would have made it a bit easier, but she was determined to prove nothing had changed in regards to her strength.
As she stood at the edge of the pool, waiting for the signal to begin, she felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement buzzing in her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it wasn’t fear—it was anticipation. This is it. All the pain, all the struggle—it’s for this.
The whistle blew, and Gabby dove into the water. Her body sliced through it with precision. Her stride and strokes came naturally, muscle memory kicking in as she focused on her breathing, her movements, the steady propulsion of her body through the water.
Lap after lap, she kept her pace steady, her mind focused on the numbers ticking by in her head. Every pull, every kick, was a reminder of how far she’d come. Keep going. Keep pushing.
By the time she hit the halfway mark, her arms and legs were burning, and her lungs were straining. But the crowd noise began to pick up. She could hear them now, even underwater—the cheers, the shouts of encouragement from her team, her family, and Playboy’s deep voice rising above the rest. It fueled her, gave her that extra burst of energy she needed as she powered through the water.
The final lap approached, and Gabby’s body screamed for relief, but her mind refused to quit. Just a little more. I’ve got this. As she turned into the last lap, the roar from the bleachers intensified, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that she could beat the time.
With every stroke, the finish drew closer, and by the last few yards, her entire body was on fire. The moment her hand touched the wall, she immediately looked at the timer—eleven minutes and fifty-seven seconds. She had beaten the male score by three seconds.
Gabby stared at the clock in disbelief for a split second before the noise around her fully registered. Cheers erupted from the bleachers, and her team came rushing toward the edge of the pool, shouting her name. She could see Captain Graham clapping, Clover jumping up and down, and her parents wiping away tears. But the one face she was searching for was Playboy’s.
As her teammates helped pull her out of the water, congratulating her, she scanned the crowd for him. And then there he was, pushing through the sea of people, his smile wide and full of pride.
“Gabby!” Playboy called out, his voice thick with emotion.
Before she could say anything, he was lifting her off the ground, wrapping her up in his strong arms as though she weighed nothing at all. Gabby let out a breathless laugh, her arms winding around his neck as he spun her around.
“I’m so damn proud of you,” Playboy whispered in her ear, his voice soft but full of meaning. “You did it.”
And that’s when the tears came. Gabby buried her face in his shoulder, her body shaking with emotion, overwhelmed by everything—by the support, by the victory, by the knowledge that he had never left her side, not once, through it all.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she pulled back to look at him.
He smiled, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. “You could’ve done it all along. I just reminded you how strong you are.”
Gabby’s heart swelled, the weight of the moment settling over her. She had proven herself today, and not just to those who doubted her, but to herself. And as she stood there, surrounded by her family, her team, and the man who had never stopped believing in her, she knew that no matter what came next, she was ready for it.
◆◆◆
Gabby stood near the table of food that was set up for everyone as she looked at everyone who was in attendance.
After her PFT, Playboy had taken her to Bayside for what she thought was going to be dinner. However, she had been shocked when they arrived at Bayside and Playboy had led her into a private room that was filled with all of her friends and family as they were all there to celebrate with her.
She smiled as Playboy approached her and handed her a chocolate martini.
“Thank you,” she told him.
“Anything for the woman of the hour,” Playboy joked.
Moments later, Bear and Jocelyn joined them.
“Playboy, you’ve gotta come see how the mural is coming along,” Bear said, smiling as Jocelyn nodded beside him.
Bear then looked at Gabby. “What you’ve done so far is incredible.”
Gabby smiled, feeling a sense of pride in her work. The mural in Bear and Jocelyn’s bedroom was still a work in progress, but it had become a creative outlet for her, a way to express the complexities she couldn’t always articulate. “I’ve got more to add, but I’m glad you both like it. It’s meant to be personal, something that tells your story.”
Jocelyn’s eyes sparkled. “It already does. You have no idea how much we appreciate it.”
As they talked about the design and color schemes, Gabby kept Playboy’s within an arms reach, her fingers brushing against his casually. She felt more at ease with him close. His warmth was a constant, an anchor she didn’t know she’d needed until he was there.
Then, from the corner of her eye, Gabby noticed Derek, Playboy’s commander, approaching them. She stiffened slightly, instinctively straightening up, and felt Playboy give her a reassuring glance. She hadn’t officially met Derek, but she knew who he was.
Derek stopped in front of and shook Playboy’s hand before turning his attention to Gabby. His expression was serious but kind.
Playboy made the introductions, and Gabby shook Derek’s hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you officially,” he told her.
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she replied with a smile.
“I wanted to also thank you, personally, for what you did that day. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking and bravery, I don’t know what would’ve happened to my team or even the other Coast Guard personnel who were helping. You saved lives.”
Gabby blinked, momentarily speechless. The words landed heavily on her heart, the weight of what he said sinking in. She wasn’t one for seeking praise or recognition, but hearing it from Derek made everything feel more real, more significant. She glanced at Playboy, who was watching her intently, then back at Derek.
“I—” Gabby faltered, clearing her throat. “I didn’t do it for the recognition. I just did what I was trained to do. If I had to, I’d make the same choice again.”
Derek nodded, respect evident in his expression. “Well, that instinct saved more lives than you realize. Thank you, truly.”
Gabby smiled awkwardly, not used to this kind of attention. She appreciated the words, but deep down, part of her wished she didn’t have to be brave, that the accident hadn’t happened in the first place. But she wasn’t about to dwell on that now. Not tonight.
As the night wore on, everyone moved out of the private room and into the main area of the restaurant. Gabby found herself smiling more easily, enjoying the company of everyone around her. She was happy that Selena had shown up and looked to be enjoying herself. She laughed at Nails’ jokes as he kept everyone entertained.
But then, as she scanned the crowd, that familiar feeling crept up on her—the one that made her skin prickle, and her muscles tighten. It wasn’t just the feeling of eyes on her anymore. It was deeper than that, more unsettling. A sense of danger, like something was brewing in the background, waiting to strike.
She shifted beside Playboy, her body tense, and he immediately noticed. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his arm instinctively wrapping around her waist.
Gabby swallowed, her eyes scanning the crowd once more. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. Like something’s not right.”
Playboy’s gaze hardened, his protective instincts kicking in. “You’re safe, Gabby. I’ve got you. We’re surrounded by people we trust, no one’s getting near you.”
His words were meant to reassure her, and part of her wanted to believe him, but the unease wouldn’t go away. It gnawed at her, digging into her gut like a warning bell she couldn’t ignore. Something was coming, and when it happened, she knew it wasn’t going to be good.
◆◆◆
Tyson pushed open the door to Bayside, the smell of food immediately hitting his senses. He was shocked by the difference between the outside of the place and what he found inside.
He glanced at his step-sister Vicky as they walked inside. She was already rolling her eyes at something, clearly annoyed. Tyson, always a step ahead when it came to reading people, narrowed his eyes.
“What’s with the attitude?” he asked, his voice gruff as they navigated through the crowd. The bar was packed.
Vicky tossed her long strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms, glaring toward the back of the restaurant where a large group was gathered.
“That’s the reason,” she muttered, nodding her head in the direction of the group. “They’re celebrating some bitch who stole my boyfriend.”
Tyson's brow furrowed. “Your boyfriend?”
He’d heard her complain about some guy in passing, but never cared enough to dig into the details. Vicky was always getting tangled up in dramatic relationships, and Tyson didn’t have the patience for it. But since she had his attention he asked her more about it.
“Tell me more about this guy.”
Vicky huffed. “His name is Playboy. He used to be mine until she came along. Now they're all over her like she’s some kind of hero.”
Tyson’s muscles tensed. He didn’t care much about his step-sister’s dramatic life to begin with, much less her love life. But since he had nothing better to do at the moment, he would act like he cared.
“Point them out,” he told her as his eyes scanned the crowded back area.
Vicky smirked, looking satisfied with the opportunity to vent. She tilted her head toward the group and said, “Her. That short blonde standing next to the tall guy with the beard. That’s her.”
Tyson’s blood ran cold as his gaze locked onto the woman Vicky was pointing at. His pulse quickened, and he clenched his jaw.
No. It couldn’t be her. But he wouldn’t forget her face. That was her—Gabriella Allen. The woman he had been sent to find. The woman Ramon wanted. The woman with a bounty on her head.
Tyson wanted to laugh. This had been too easy. He couldn’t believe it. He thought it would take a good day or two to get his eyes on her. But here she was, right in front of him, in the same damn restaurant, laughing with her friends like she didn’t have a target on her back.
Tyson swallowed hard, his mind racing. He couldn’t let Vicky know what was going on. No one could know. He glanced at his step-sister, who was still fuming and oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
“Let’s grab a table,” Tyson said quickly, taking Vicky’s arm and leading her away from the crowd, away from Gabby. He kept his voice calm, but inside he was spiraling. “I want to hear more about this woman. What else do you know about her?”
Vicky raised an eyebrow, a little thrown by his sudden interest, but she shrugged and followed him to a table near the bar, but still within view of the group. Tyson sat so that he could keep his eyes on Gabby. Every move she made was under his surveillance now.
Vicky rambled on, her voice dripping with jealousy. “She’s some Coast Guard chick. Everyone thinks she’s this big deal because she got hurt on some drug bust or something. Now she’s got all these people treating her like a damn queen. Even Playboy couldn’t resist her.” She huffed. “Can you believe that?”
But Tyson wasn’t listening to her anymore. His focus was laser-sharp on Gabby. She was talking to Playboy and another woman, laughing and completely unaware of the danger she was in.
Vicky was still going on. “...and of course, she’s always around his team. They treat her like she’s one of them.”
“She always with him?” Tyson asked, his voice casual, but inside, he was calculating.
“Yeah, they’re practically inseparable. Why?”
Tyson forced a smile, leaning back in his chair as he kept an eye on Gabby. “Just curious, Vick. Just curious.”
But inside, Tyson was already working through his next move.
Suddenly, the woman who was standing next to Gabby turned around, and Tyson had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.
Tyson’s stomach tightened, and he quickly took out his phone, pretending to scroll through messages. He discreetly snapped a few photos of the raven-haired woman.
He took one of the pictures and enlarged it. All it took was one look to confirm his suspicions. Selena Escalona. The little sister of Ramon Escolona, who disappeared six years ago.
This little side project just became more interesting and possibly more profitable.
His heart thumped in his chest. He couldn’t waste any time, especially with this new development.
Tyson looked at Vicky. “I need to make a quick phone call,” he told her. “Go ahead and order me a beer.”
She waved him off as he walked down a hallway and then out a side door. Once he was outside and alone with no listening ears nearby, he swiped his phone screen and hit one button.
In two rings, the person answered.
“Tyson, I was hoping to hear from you soon. What news do you have for me?”
“Well, for starters, how about Gabriella Allen.”