Chapter 16
It was three days until Kenna and Aleck’s wedding, and Monica’s new friend was freaking out.
She was constantly texting everyone in the group chat about how nothing was ready.
They all knew for a fact that Robert had everything under control, because Kenna had told them more than once how amazing he was.
Both her parents and Aleck’s folks had arrived in town. They’d had dinner last night and everyone had gotten along perfectly. The weather was supposed to be beautiful on the day of their wedding, and as far as Monica could tell, Kenna was freaking out over nothing.
Being privy to all the arrangements for their ceremony made Monica realize that she didn’t want anything remotely similar.
If she ever got married, she wanted to keep everything small and simple.
No party favors. No huge catering details to work out.
No cake. Just her and the man she loved, vowing to be together through thick and thin.
And thinking about weddings brought her thoughts back to Stuart.
Last night, they’d gone further physically than they ever had before.
They’d been making out, and Monica had wanted so much more.
Needed more. She’d pushed him back on the couch and lifted his shirt.
One of his hands had cradled the back of her head as she’d kissed her way up his rock-hard abs.
When she’d kissed one of his nipples, it had tightened under her lips.
Knowing she could affect him so much was a heady feeling.
He was bigger, stronger, and most of the time seemed to have his shit together.
But the moans that left his lips as she nibbled on his erect nipple made goose bumps race down her arms. She became a little too enthusiastic, sucking on the skin next to his nipple and giving him a hickey.
But she didn’t regret it. She liked seeing her mark on him. A lot.
Her hand had eased between his legs, and she’d felt his hard erection for a fleeting moment before he’d grabbed her hand and switched their positions before she even knew what he was doing.
Then she was under him, more than ready for him to take her…
but he just leaned down, kissed her so gently it made her want to cry, then sat up.
He was very serious about the damn trust thing. On one hand, it was irritating. Men were supposed to have no trouble jumping into bed with women. Figured she’d find the one who wouldn’t. Monica wanted to tell him that she trusted him, but she just couldn’t get the words out.
On the other hand, she couldn’t deny that him not wanting to rush into bed made her feel special. Valued. It also said a lot about his character, and proved that he didn’t want to sleep with her simply because she was handy.
So she’d gone to bed horny as hell. Getting herself off wasn’t as satisfying as she knew being with Stuart would be.
This morning, she’d still been somewhat irritated with him when he’d taken her into his arms and held her gently, reverently, saying all the right words and making her believe that everything would be okay.
But would it?
Only if she somehow reprogrammed herself from thinking all men would turn on her in the end. She didn’t think Stuart was like that, but all she had to do was look down at her hand for a harsh reminder of what could happen if she let down her guard.
At the end of the day, Elodie had been waiting for Monica outside the Head Start Center instead of Stuart.
“Is Stuart all right?” she blurted when she reached Mustang’s beat-up truck that Elodie was driving.
“He’s fine,” Elodie said with a smile. “I guess the guys are still in some super important last-minute meeting, and he asked if I wouldn’t mind picking you up and taking you home.”
“Oh, well…thanks. I appreciate it. Is everything okay with the team?”
“I’m sure it is. The meeting could be nothing, or it could be about an upcoming mission they need to plan for.”
“Do they get deployed a lot?” Monica asked. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to any of the other women about life as the wife or girlfriend to a SEAL, and decided now was as good a time as any.
“Depends on what you think a lot is,” Elodie said. “The hardest part isn’t them leaving; it’s not knowing when they’ll be back. They could literally be gone for a few days or a few months.”
“Yeah, that stinks,” Monica agreed.
“But what keeps me going is knowing Scott is making the world a safer place,” Elodie admitted.
“That sounds cheesy as hell, but the Navy isn’t sending the team off to have tea with exotic women or something.
They’re hunting terrorists. Or rescuing hostages.
Or like you experienced, getting Americans out of trouble that’s heading their way. ”
Monica liked thinking about Stuart’s job like that.
“So, while I don’t know what their meeting is about today, I know it’s important. And that the guys will do what they have to in order to keep us all safe.”
Monica nodded.
“Not to change the subject, but are you ready for the shindig this weekend?” Elodie asked.
Monica laughed. “I don’t think anyone is.”
“True. But it’s gonna be so much fun!”
Monica couldn’t help but agree.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful, except for a guy who seemed to be riding their ass on the Interstate. The car had windows tinted so dark, Monica couldn’t see who was driving, but she glared back at whoever it was anyway.
“I hate driving,” Elodie complained. “People are such maniacs on the road.”
“And you still came to get me?” Monica asked as they got off the Interstate. Whoever had been following them so closely zoomed by.
“It’s what friends do,” Elodie said simply.
Monica almost cried at the simple statement. She was feeling extremely emotional lately, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. When she had herself under control, she said, “Well, I appreciate it.”
“I’m sure you’d do the same for me.”
“I would,” Monica said. “Although our men have questionable taste in vehicles.”
Elodie laughed. “Right? Although, this pickup might look like shit, but it runs amazingly well. Now, Pid’s minivan?” She giggled. “It’s so…not cool. But at least he won’t have to be convinced to get one when he has kids.”
Monica couldn’t help but smile. That was very true. Although she had a feeling that even if Stuart had a Mustang or something, he wouldn’t hesitate to exchange it for a more family friendly vehicle.
Elodie pulled up outside Stuart’s house and turned to Monica. “For the record…I’m really hoping you decide to stay.”
Monica was surprised at her words.
“You’re funny and nice, and even though you don’t talk a lot when we all get together, I can tell you’re interested in what we’re saying.
And you talk when you do have something to say.
And you make Pid happy, and he’s my friend, so that makes me happy.
Not only that, but Theo hasn’t stopped asking about you since he met you.
Anyway…you fit here, Monica. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. ”
Once again, Monica had to fight back tears. “Thanks. I emailed Sylvia my application this morning.”
Elodie beamed. “Awesome!”
“Yeah,” Monica agreed. And she had to admit to feeling a bit of relief that she wouldn’t be packing up and heading off to some other foreign country anytime soon.
“Text me when you get home,” Monica ordered Elodie.
“I will. See you soon! You’re coming to the penthouse on Saturday morning so we can help Kenna get ready, and we can all get our hair and makeup done, right?”
“I’m not sure I’ll be much help,” Monica said.
“Are you kidding? We need you there to make sure we don’t drink too much! It wouldn’t be cool for Kenna to be like the sister in the movie Sixteen Candles when she walks down the aisle.”
Monica couldn’t help but chuckle. “True.”
“Great. See you there!”
“Bye.” Monica waved as Elodie headed back down the driveway.
She headed for the house and unlocked the door, making sure to bolt it after she was inside.
She might feel safe here, but that didn’t mean she was stupid.
She was a woman alone in the house. Leaving the door unlocked was akin to leaving it wide open and inviting trouble in.
Monica changed out of her clothes into a pair of leggings and a T-shirt, then checked her email.
Sylvia had already replied to the application email Monica had sent earlier that day with an enthusiastic note, including lots of exclamation points.
She also opened an email from her boss at the nanny agency, accepting her official resignation—which she hadn’t mentioned to Stuart.
She hoped to surprise him this time. The woman had offered to give her a glowing reference and reassured her that if she ever wanted to come back, she was more than welcome.
Feeling positive about her future, and excited, Monica headed for the kitchen.
She was standing in front of the refrigerator, staring into it and trying to figure out what she could make for dinner with what they had—they were definitely running low and needed to make a grocery run—when a noise off to the right caught her attention.
Glancing over to the door that led to the deck, Monica froze when she saw a man standing there.
Not just any man—but the same one she’d seen in Algiers.
For a second, she felt as if she was back there. Except this time, she knew the man’s name…and how dangerous he really was.
Shane “Bull” Beyer tapped on the glass with the end of a thick steel baton. It looked like the kind the police wore on their belts.
“Remember me?” he asked in a singsong voice.
Monica didn’t wait around to hear anything else.
Not even bothering to close the refrigerator door, she bolted for the hallway. Before she’d reached her room, the familiar sound of glass breaking echoed throughout the small house.
“You can’t hide from me this time,” Shane called out.
“The hell I can’t,” Monica muttered as she frantically tapped the switch that would open the false wall in her room.
It seemed to open ten times slower than she knew it actually did.
She practically threw herself inside—but when she turned to look behind her, she knew it was too late.
The house was simply too small to give her time to hide, then escape out the outer door for help.
Shane was on her before she could do more than let out a frightened eep.
“Got ya,” he said as he dragged her out of the room, forced her to her feet, then wrapped his arm around her from behind, putting her in a choke hold.
Monica fought harder than she’d ever fought before. Flashes of the woman he’d murdered swam in her brain. Visions of a knife sticking out of her chest made her claw at Shane with her right hand, desperate to get him to let go.
“Fuck, you’re a wild one,” Shane said.
It sounded like he was happy about that, which did nothing to help calm Monica.
He walked backward, dragging her kicking and screaming with him.
But nothing she did made his hold loosen.
He also wasn’t exactly being gentle, not caring when her knee hit the doorjamb on the way out of the bedroom, or that when he turned them, her legs slammed into the wall.
Her toes stung from the contact, since she wasn’t wearing shoes, and the closer they got to the glass on the floor, the more scared Monica became.
But it was when he turned and threw her onto her back on the coffee table that Monica really began to panic.
She opened her mouth to scream, and Shane hit her. Hard.
Monica had been struck before. Her father loved to smack her around.
But Shane meant business. He’d used a swift fist to the gut to shut her up, and it worked.
Gasping for breath, trying to roll into a ball and failing because Shane was holding her down, all she could do was stare up at him in pain.
He hit her again. Monica suspected it was just because he wanted to that time, not because he was trying to keep her quiet.
Her breath left her again. She wanted to fight back.
Wanted to kick him in the balls and run screaming out of the house, but those punches hurt.
She had a feeling that even if she managed to get to her feet, she probably wouldn’t be able to get far before she collapsed.
Shane fumbled with something in his pocket for a moment before holding up a syringe.
He had a small smile on his face. “You have two choices right now. Hold still while I inject you with this, or fight me. If you fight me, I’m still gonna put this in you, but I’ll beat the shit out of you first, then rape you, then inject you.
And I’ll also wait around for your boyfriend to get home and put a bullet in his brain before he even knows what the hell is happening. Which will it be?”
Well, shit. She didn’t like either of those choices. And she sure as hell didn’t trust him. Even if she chose door number one and let him inject her with whatever the hell was in that syringe, there was no guarantee he still wouldn’t rape her and kill Stuart.
But could she chance it? No.
So she remained silent on the table, staring up at him.
“Smart choice,” he praised, flicking off the cap of the needle.
Monica closed her eyes as she felt the needle sink into the skin of her neck.
“Good girl,” Shane crooned.
His voice made her sick, made her think about her father saying the same words when she did whatever insane thing he wanted her to do.
She opened her eyes, and as the drug he’d injected began to take effect, Monica mentally swore to do whatever it took to kill this man. She’d been taught by the best…and somehow, someway, she’d kill Shane Beyer—and not feel one ounce of guilt.
“That’s it. Just relax. For the record, you’re just a means to an end. I don’t want you. I want Baker—and you’re my ticket to getting him.”
Monica had no idea what he was talking about.
She’d only met Baker once; she was the worst person to use to try to lure the former SEAL into some crazy trap.
But she couldn’t find the words to tell him.
She couldn’t even keep her eyes open. Every muscle in her body felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds.
She felt herself being lifted and flung over Shane’s shoulder, but she couldn’t do a damn thing to resist. She was boneless.
“It’s just a bonus that your man will panic when he comes home and sees my handiwork,” Shane said with a laugh.
It was the last thing she heard before succumbing to the drug racing through her veins.