Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) (15 page)

“He was out with the guys on his SEAL team?”
Ella asked.

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the big deal? Was Brent acting
like an asshole again? Because that’s pretty much the norm for
him.”

“He said he’s flying down there.”

“Who? Matthew?”

“No. Brent.”

Ella paused for a moment, shocked, and then
laughed. “Give me a break. Brent? To do what, tell me to quit my
job? Why on Earth would he? That man only thinks about one
person—himself. Actually, I don’t even know if that’s true. He
thinks with his dick. End of story.”

“Ella—”

“He didn’t even tell me why he up and left
the other night. He just decided he’d had enough and stormed
out.”

“I thought you didn’t sleep with him.”

“I didn’t! But he kissed me and came inside
the condo. We were, uh, on the sofa.”

“God, hun, why would you get involved with
Brent? You know what kind of guy he is. I’ve never seen him with
the same woman twice. You’re not his type—and he’s definitely not
yours.”

“Exactly. No one is his type. Which is why
he’d never come down here.”

“It seems unlikely, but I just wanted to
warn you. He told the rest of the team that he was going down there
after you. Matthew was livid when I was attacked, but so was Brent.
His sister was killed years ago by her abusive ex-boyfriend. Brent
feels protective of you.”

“What?” Ella asked. “His sister was
killed
?”

“Yeah. He didn’t tell you?”

“No. He just implied that I didn’t know
everything about him.”

“According to Matthew, Brent feels guilty as
hell about it. The guys were all out on an op when it happened, and
Brent didn’t get back there in time.”

“Wow. Jesus.”

“Yeah. So…I guess that’s partly why he
rushed off down to Florida. He’s worried about you.”

“He shouldn’t be,” Ella huffed. “And he
certainly doesn’t have the right to try and tell me what to do
after acting like a total ass the other night.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Brianna said with a sigh.
“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Got it. Listen, I better get going. My
coffee maker broke this morning, and I’m going to die if I don’t
get a little caffeine.”

“All right. Just be careful. Promise me
that.”

“I promise,” Ella agreed.

The two women said their goodbyes, and Ella
ended the call, plugging her phone into the charger. Her head
throbbed and stomach rumbled. Geez. Had she even eaten dinner last
night? It was tough to remember with rushing from the airport,
working the evening shift, and making herself sick over her
incident with Frank. First, coffee. Then she’d be pounding the
pavement looking for a job. Despite agreeing to work there again,
she didn’t think she could go back tonight.

The disgusting texts and messages from Frank
loomed in the back of her mind.

No.

She couldn’t ever go back.

***

Brent grabbed a seat at the bar in the
cocktail lounge Saturday night, eyeing the waitress walking past.
She sashayed along in sky-high heels and that damn-near indecent
dress all the women who worked here had on. Hell. How could he have
liked that outfit the first time he was here? Maybe it had looked
good when he’d been hitting on the pretty waitresses, but now? He’d
rip the balls off any man that even looked at Ella in that skimpy
dress.

So where the hell was she?

His phone buzzed from atop the bar, and he
glanced down, seeing a text from his brother.

Find your girl yet?

Jesus Christ. After Brock had given him shit
the other night for not getting over the blame Brent placed on
himself for not getting to Lizzie in time, he’d barely seen his
brother. And Brock would be flying back to New York before Brent
made it back home.

On it.

Brock’s reply came immediately.

You’re fucking her?

Brent clenched his jaw, irritation rolling
through him.

Looking for her, not fucking her,
asshole.

He pictured Brock laughing. Hell. His
brother probably wouldn’t think twice about texting someone while
nailing a girl. Two birds, one stone.

A loud group of men laughed to his right,
and he clenched his jaw, watching as they flirted with a pretty
brunette. He ordered a drink, and the no-nonsense female bartender
shot him a questioning glance as he watched another waitress walk
by.

“Looking for someone in particular?” she
asked, sliding a Pilsner glass his way.

Hell. Should he play it cool and just
observe things tonight? Or get right to the fucking point? He
nailed her with a cool gaze. “Is Ella working tonight?”

The bartender eyed him curiously. “I don’t
know. She’s on the schedule, but I haven’t seen her. Are you
friends with her or something?”

“Something.”

The woman laughed. “Uh-huh. Well, she’s a
sweet girl. Don’t screw around with her.”

Brent narrowed his gaze. “It’s more like I
don’t want anyone else screwing around with her.”

“I can appreciate that. You look familiar.
Have you been in here before?”

“About a month ago. When Brianna was
attacked in the back hallway. So you can understand why I don’t
like the fact that Ella is working here again.”

The woman nodded. “Have you checked back in
Frank’s office? He wanted her to come in early before her shift.
Not sure if she did though.”

“Frank, as in the shitty manager of
hers?”

“The very one,” she said dryly.

“Hi Brent,” a raven haired waitress cooed as
she walked by. “Are you back in town this weekend?”

Shit.

He’d gotten her number when he’d been here
with his buddies a month ago. And yeah, after Ella had dropped him
and Evan off at the hotel, he’d met up with the woman later that
night. Spent the night at her place. Managed to slip out after she
made him pancakes the next morning and they went another round on
the kitchen floor.

His gut clenched.

“Just for a day or so. I’m looking for
someone.”

“She have a name?” the woman asked, cocking
her hip and looking at him expectantly. He met her gaze, and she
laughed. “Oh honey, don’t think for a second I believe you came
here for me. We had a fun night, but you’re not the one-woman type.
More like a one-night-stand kind of man.”

He muttered an oath. “I’m looking for
Ella.”

“Ella, huh?” The woman laughed again. “Have
to admit I didn’t see that coming.”

“Have you seen her?” he asked, clenching his
fists.

“No. Frank was expecting her to come in
early for some reason though. He looked pissed as hell when she
didn’t show up.”

“Damn it. Is his office in the back
hall?”

“Yep.”

Brent tossed some money down onto the bar,
leaving his beer unfinished. His gut niggled with worry as he
stalked toward the back hallway. That was probably just because it
held bad memories, he told himself. That was where Brianna had been
attacked. Where he’d first met Ella. There was no reason to worry
about her now. The only problem they’d have is that she was pissed
as hell at him for leaving her half naked on the sofa the other
night. In nothing but a blanket and sexy lace panties.

But shit. Something had been off with all
those damn messages she kept getting. And then when Matthew had
gotten the call from Brianna saying that Ella was back here?

It was like something inside him had
snapped.

Someone like her shouldn’t be working here.
Even if she didn’t want a fucking thing to do with Brent, he was
going to drag her out of here kicking and screaming. She could
thank him later. Guilt ate him alive every day that he hadn’t done
more for Lizzie.

Brent stalked down the back hallway, his
eyes sweeping the area. His Glock was tucked into the back of his
jeans just in case he ran into trouble. More than likely with that
asshole Frank in charge. No one was around, and his eyes swept
toward the security cameras lining the hall. A single red light
shone at the bottom of one, indicating it was on. A lot of fucking
good that had done Brianna. Did anyone even monitor those things?
Frank was probably more concerned about someone robbing him than
keeping his employees safe.

A door at the end of the hall was open,
which Brent thought was Frank’s office if he remembered correctly.
He ground his teeth, stalking closer. Seemed unlikely that pansy
ass would be back here on a Saturday night when there was a crowd
out front. Not when there was money to be made.

He heard the sounds of a filing cabinet
slamming shut, and then two burly men came through the door, tatted
up and menacing looking. Probably carrying. The biggest one was
bald, nearly as tall as Brent’s own 6’2”, and looked like he was
jacked up on ‘roids. Right on his heels was a shorter man with a
dark buzz cut and long scar across his cheek. “You seen Meyers?”
the bald one barked.

“That the manager that runs this shit hole?
Then no,” Brent ground out. “But I’m about ready to pummel his
ass.”

Baldy huffed out a laugh, but Scarface said,
“Get in fucking line. He owes us money. And we always collect on
our debts.”

“Fucking moron,” Brent muttered. “What kind
of trouble isn’t this asshole in?”

The back door slammed against the wall as it
was thrown open, and a third man came storming in, looking pissed.
“Guy out back said Frank already left. He sped out of here looking
for some bitch that didn’t show up tonight.”

Brent’s blood ran cold. Was he going after
Ella? She was just a waitress here, not involved in whatever
troubles Frank had. But where the hell was she?

“Who was he looking for?” Brent asked, his
voice steel.

“The fuck if I know,” the newcomer
hissed.

“Then we’ll be back tomorrow,” Baldy
snapped. “And double the amount he owes us.” He spit on the floor,
and not even glancing at Brent, stormed toward the back door,
leaving the other men to follow.

Brent clenched his fists as he watched them
stomp off. He’d been worried about Ella around the paying
customers. But those assholes almost made her manager look like a
decent guy. Shit. He had to find her. Keep her from coming back
here.

And try to fucking keep his hands to
himself.

Ella changed into shorts and a strappy tank
top, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. After she’d spent the
day hitting the pavement and frantically looking for a replacement
part-time job at the restaurants around Pensacola and e-mailing out
copies of her resume in hopes she could score a paying internship
at a bank or finance department for the summer, she’d blown off her
shift at the cocktail lounge tonight.

She felt relieved, actually. A weight had
been lifted off her shoulders when she’d come to the conclusion
that she was done with that place. Her boss had made her feel like
crap yesterday—like some cheap woman who didn’t have any
self-worth. Who’d put up with whatever a man demanded. She was
ashamed she’d even let him get away with what he had—that she’d let
him bare her breast and take advantage of her.

And she knew it could have been far, far
worse.

Frank was madder than hell, if the number of
text messages she was getting meant anything. Not to mention the
nasty voicemail he’d left her. You’d think he’d be too busy running
the place to waste time contacting her. Especially after she’d left
him in a lurch.

The first few text messages she’d gotten
this afternoon were lewd, asking if she was putting on some sexy
lingerie for him to enjoy. Telling her he couldn’t wait to suck on
her nipples and lick her pussy. She’d wanted to retch when reading
them and had shut off her phone for a couple of hours. Then when
she’d finally gotten the nerve to turn it on again? More angry
texts, demanding to know why she was late for her shift. Saying she
owed him money for the tray of drinks she’d spilled on her shift.
That her last chance was to spend the night with him.

He’d always been skeevy in the past, leering
at her and Brianna, but this? It went far beyond anything she was
willing to put up with. Far beyond any normal boss-employee
relations.

She’d lose out on the money she should’ve
earned from last night’s shift, but she wasn’t going back.
Ever.

Grabbing her keys and the last of her cash,
she headed out the door to pick up some groceries. Her cupboards
were mostly bare after a week away, and with her job hunt all day,
she hadn’t had the time to get anything yet. She’d scrounged up
change for a cup of black coffee and plain bagel this morning, but
since then? She hadn’t eaten a thing.

She locked the door as she exited her garden
style apartment and walked toward the stairs. A light breeze blew
through the open walkway, and she felt remarkably light for a
change. First thing tomorrow, she was changing her phone number. No
more messages from Frank meant half of her problems were gone.
Okay, so not half, she thought to herself. There was still the
whole money thing. The paying her student loans and having enough
money for food. But she’d gotten a crappy paying part-time job down
by the beach and applied for a new credit card. It wasn’t ideal,
paying for things on credit, but what choice did she have? It would
be for emergencies only.

And tonight? She’d stretch her dollar at the
store, buying basics to hopefully make it through the next week.
And her first paycheck from her new job. Thankfully she’d be
starting in the middle of a pay cycle and wouldn’t have to wait two
weeks for a paycheck. And she’d have to call the bank, asking for
an extension on next month’s student loan payment. Anything was
worth never having to see Frank again.

Her stomach rumbled, and she felt a little
lightheaded as she walked along, wishing she’d stopped to eat
something during the day. Splurging on lunch out hadn’t been an
option when she needed the money to last an entire week. Right now
enjoying something as simple as peanut butter and jelly for dinner
sounded like heaven.