Chronic (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 2)

BOOK: Chronic (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 2)
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* * * *

 

Chronic

The Se7eN Deadly SEALs Series

Episode Two

Copyright © 2015 by Alana Albertson.

Cover Designer: Regina Wamba of
Mae I Design
(https://www.facebook.com/MaeIDesignandPhotography)

Cover Models: Callan Newton and Dani Cooper

Interior design and formatting by
JT Formatting
(http://www.facebook.com/JTFormatting)

 

ISBN-13: 978-1-941665-82-4

 

All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

Bolero Books LLC

11956 Bernardo Plaza Dr. #510

San Diego, CA 92128

www.buybolerobooks.com

 

All rights reserved.

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

Title Page

Dedication

François de La Rochefoucauld Quote

SINopsis

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Author's Note

Acknowledgments

About the Author

 

 

***

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

I DON’T TRUST THE NAKED woman asleep in my bed, the one with the bombshell body and eerily symmetrical face. The edge of her mouth curls when she smiles, she smells like citrus, she bites her lips when she lies.

This imposter is lying to me—she claims she’s a Ukrainian stripper named Ksenya, but I’d bet my Trident that she’s my ex-girlfriend Mia, her face and body masked with plastic surgery. Her brother is in jail for murdering a stripper, and she must have kept her promise that she’d stop at nothing to exonerate him.

But I’m not going to call her bluff. Hell, no. I’m going to play her game, test her strength, see how far she’s willing to go to keep up this ruse.

My beloved girl, who shuddered at the thought of lowering her inhibitions, is playing my game now. She wants to get wild? I will fulfill her every fantasy.

But I control the game now, not her. It will end when I say it ends.

I’m a Navy SEAL, and I will be the last one standing.

***

 

 

 

 

I THREW A STEAK IN the pan, the scent of grease wafting through my apartment. My ex-girlfriend Mia refused to eat meat, fucking hippie. A vegan, she’d freak when I sautéed her veggies in butter. Last night, I’d been so angry that there was even the possibility that Mia thought she could trick me. But I channeled my energy. I had a plan to test Ksenya, the girl asleep in my bed. Try to figure out if she was really Mia in disguise. My fingers tingled—this would be fun. Epic, even. If my hunch was correct, I couldn’t wait for the chance to see how far Mia was willing to go to try to fool me. Did she really think I wouldn’t figure out who she was?

I grabbed my cell phone. The girl on the other end answered, her voice breathy and sensual. “Hello? Grant?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” I said, careful to keep my voice low in case Ksenya awoke. “Hey—you were right. Something’s up.”

The girl rattled on about her theories and offered up a suggestion. I wasn’t thrilled by it, but at this point I’d agree to anything that would get me one step closer to the truth.

“Yeah. Sounds good. I’m on it. Later.”

I hung up the phone. Everything was falling into place.

First order of business was to get Ksenya to quit working at Panthers and for her to find a job somewhere I could keep an eye on her, make sure she was safe. I didn’t care that we were broken up; if there was even the slightest chance this girl was Mia, I didn’t want a bunch of jackasses watching her strip. She had lost her virginity to me for fuck’s sake. I mean, she had even told me when I last saw her at my place that I still was the only man she’d ever slept with. Joaquín would kill someone if he knew his sister was moonlighting as a stripper. Hell, I would too. I had to put an end to this bullshit today.

Before Joaquín was arrested, he made me promise that I would look out for his sister. I gave him my word, with every intention of honoring it. But when Mia came to me after Joaquín was arrested, begging for help, I broke my vow. Too consumed by my anger, by my rage toward her betrayal, I wanted nothing to do with her. How could she leave me when I needed her most? I was such a stubborn jackass. Maybe if I had listened to her, helped her—fuck it, helped Joaquín—instead of hiding behind my pride, things would be different. Maybe Mia and I could’ve worked together to exonerate Joaquín, find out who really killed Tiffany. Maybe Mia could’ve finally told me the truth about why she really left me, and maybe we could’ve started fresh. The time for second chances had passed though. It was clearly way too late.

I’d kept my own secrets from Mia, too. Secrets about how far I’d fallen without her. How I couldn’t live without her. How no matter how much success I had in the Teams, it meant nothing without her by my side.

I closed my eyes, for a moment, remembering the last time she had been mine, truly mine. She’d kept a vigil at my bedside, night after night. She’d dressed my wounds, given me my meds, even read to me. She had seen me at my worst, at my weakest. I’d let down my guard, allowed her to take care of me, the way she had always wanted to. After I could take care of myself, finally independent of the machines that were keeping me alive, when I actually felt like a man again, we’d made love one last time. And it had been different than any other time we’d had sex before. Our bodies melted into one, our kisses were passionate, our love making completely connected.

I’d made a decision that night—that I didn’t want to live one more day of my life without her by my side. I’d even asked Joaquín for permission to marry her, had him go to the jeweler and pick up the engagement ring I’d purchased for her online.

But then, without warning, Mia had left. Absconded in the middle of the night. No goodbye, no excuses, no answers.

Here I was, years later, conflicted about the identity of this empty woman whom I’d allowed in my home. My heart questioned if she was my girl, my head convinced that the only woman I’d ever loved could not possibly be crazy enough to transform her body. For my hypothesis to be correct, Mia would’ve destroyed her life to save her brother’s—and used me in the process. I’d rather believe that I was being irrational.

I headed into my bedroom and bent over the bed, watched the rise and fall of Ksenya’s chest, swollen with implants, as my mind made a mental checklist of their similarities. Ksenya smelled like citrus, she bit her lip when nervous, her smile curled on the left side. Though a different color, Ksenya and Mia both had the same almond-shaped eyes and I could clearly see the outline of Ksenya’s contacts. Ksenya had to be Mia.
Had
to be. Why else would Hero react to her presence the way he had? Why did I hunger to inhale her intoxicating scent? Why did my body crave her touch? When she touched me, my pulse quickened, my heart raced. I almost felt at peace.

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure yet; there were just as many differences between these two women as there were similarities. I met Ksenya at a strip club where she was writhing against a pole, spreading her legs for everyone to see. Mia was modest—she never even wore bikinis at the beach. Man, it couldn’t be her.

I was still at war with myself. Were the parallels really there, or were they just what I wanted to see? As a SEAL, we never conducted any operations without the intelligence to back our actions up. And fuck this chick, whoever she was, for making me doubt my abilities. Yes, they had similar features. They smelled exactly the same. Their skin felt identical when I ran my fingers over it.

But this was pretty fucking crazy. Was my Mia capable of such an insane plan? Undergo fucking plastic surgery? Mia, who used to pale at the sight of blood, cringed when we would watch gory movies. And why?

No question she did love Joaquín. They’d both do anything for each other. Anything. Maybe Mia was just as determined as her brother. There’s a saying in BUD/S training—
The pain of failure MUST be greater than the pain of succeeding, otherwise you're destined to be defeated by your goal
. And I was certain that for Mia, the pain of losing Joaquín would be worse than enduring any life without him.

But I wasn’t ready to accept my suspicions as truth just yet.

I was sure of this; if this stripper was Mia, my Mia, I’d never forgive her. First for abandoning me when I needed her most, second for destroying her beautiful body with plastic surgery, and finally for this deception. There would be no room for her excuses when we arrived at the end of this road—wherever it was about to lead us.

If this girl was really a Ukrainian immigrant, desperate for a new life in America, the country I risked my life to defend, then I was a completely delusional asshole. And I needed to spend some serious time confessing my sins on a sofa to a shrink.

Nah fuck that, I was always right.

I felt it in my bones. My instincts had never deceived me. I needed to draw her out—fool her into admitting the truth. Just as she was beginning to trust me. I felt my muscles tighten in anticipation as they did out in the field. This might even be a little fun.

Let the games begin.

***

 

BOOK: Chronic (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 2)
12.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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