Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Protecting Lily (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

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  Protecting Lily

  Special Forces: Operation Alpha

  Jenika Snow

  Contents

  Newsletter

  Protecting Lily

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Newsletter

  A Real Man Series

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  About the Author

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  Brock

  I’ve always considered myself the one who would never settle down, but that wasn’t because I don’t want to. I’ve been in love for years, with Lily, the one woman I’m not good enough for.

  Then again, Slade “Cutter” Cutsinger, the man we both look up to, a man who has been a parental figure to Lily since her father died, is fiercely protective of her. I don’t want to cross any lines, especially when he’s an important part of my life as well.

  I want Lily too much to ignore how I feel, to pretend that I can stay away.

  Lily

  There has only ever been one person I’ve loved, but I know I can never have him. Our paths have never crossed romantically, and I’m too afraid to admit how I feel. I’m not a little girl anymore. I know what I want in life, and I don’t want to ignore it anymore.

  I want to be Brock’s until it consumes me, no matter how dangerous it may be.

  Brock

  When an enemy from my past resurfaces and threatens the one person I love, it’s up to me to protect Lily. We’re trapped in a cabin and isolated from the world until the threat is handled. I know that I won’t be able to keep my self-control restrained with her around.

  It’s time I man up and finally tell Lily that’s she’s always been mine.

  Warning: This is a short but sexy romantic suspense story that is based in Susan Stoker’s Special Forces: Operation Alpha Kindle World. If you like your heroes over-the-top alpha with eyes for only one woman, hold on tight because you’re in for one wild ride.

  1

  Brock

  I'd been in love with her since the moment I saw her. But I was either too much of a chickenshit to go after what I wanted, or I tried to talk myself out of it because my profession was too dangerous.

  Being a US Navy SEAL meant I did some pretty hard-core shit, went up against some pretty mean bastards, and only having to worry about myself was the smartest move. I didn’t want to put Lily in danger, not when my enemies would use that as leverage to hurt me.

  “Stop staring, Brock. You're being obvious.”

  I glanced over at Slade "Cutter" Cutsinger. He was the man I looked up to more than anyone else and a mentor to me. Cutter was one of the toughest son of a bitches I'd ever met. And I was glad he was on my side.

  He’d been there to pull me out of the self-destructive hamster wheel I was living in as a teenager. I had no one and nothing to my name back then, but he’d seen something in me that no one else had. He’d never given up on me, and because of that I never wanted to let him down.

  “Thinking too hard on something can get you in a whole lot of trouble.”

  I grunted and turned my attention back to Lily. Our gazes clashed, and I felt my heart start to race. Then someone started talking to her, and our focus on each other was broken. But I continued to stare at Lily from across the room, her smile lighting up the whole fucking area. God, she was gorgeous, innocent and vulnerable. She was so damn smart, and all I wanted to do was tell her she was mine. With her long brown hair, her blue eyes that made me think of the ocean, she was everything and more.

  Even in a nonformal gathering like this, where military members got together to let off steam but also to network and discuss the shit that was going on in the circle, she stood out like a diamond among grit and grime.

  A few other SEALs who worked with Cutter gathered around us. I turned my attention to the men, knowing that some shit needed to be talked about just by the way they were acting. When Cutter retired from the navy, he was hired on as a contractor. He now did the administrative behind-the-scenes work for Commander Hurt and the men under his command. From what I’d seen, Cutter might be retired, but he was just as respected now as he had been when he was a SEAL. Rightfully so.

  Cutter gestured for me to follow them, and we headed toward one of the back rooms. Once the door was shut, the men all took a seat around the table. I stayed off to the side and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Brock, you remember the Makonovich issue, right?”

  I was alert in that instant, the sound of Cutter saying the fucker’s name ringing in my ears and making my body become tight. I pushed away from the wall and stared at Cutter. Makonovich wasn't a name I liked to think about. And hell, it had been one I’d been trying to push away from my memories for the last year.

  I looked at the other men in the room, all their focuses on me. This was what this back-room meeting was about? They wanted to talk to me about some low-life Russian mobster that had left bodies in his wake a year ago? One that I had killed?

  My heart started beating faster, and the blood rushed through my veins. I remembered getting assigned to the mission. I had thought it would be cut-and-dried: help take down some piece-of-shit assholes that were trafficking young women from Europe to the States.

  But what I hadn't anticipated was the twisted fuck Makonovich. He was on the low end of the totem pole when it came to the Russian mob hierarchy. But because he was ruthless and had no morals, he was assigned to some pretty fucked-up tasks involving torture to those opposing the mob.

  “Yeah, I remember Makonovich.” My voice was deep, rough. All the anger and rage I had felt during that mission came to the surface, threatening to spill over. I had damn good self-control, though, and schooled my features. I was in a roomful of SEALs. Losing my shit was not going to happen. “Blew his vehicle before he had time to get out.”

  There was a collective silence as the men glanced at each other. Then Cutter looked me dead in the eye. “The asshole's resurfaced.”

  I should have asked about the ins and outs of it, but in the moment all I could see was red. That motherfucker was alive?

  “Not possible.” I shook my head, my hands in tight fists at my sides.

  “It’s reality, Brock,” Cutter said and exhaled, looking dead serious. Before I could ask the specifics, he was speaking again. “He's left a very personal message for you that we got a few hours ago.”

  “You've been sitting on this for a few hours?” My voice was deeper, the anger in me rising.

  Cutter looked around at the other men. Commander Hurt was there, as were a few SEALs I’d met because of their association with Cutter. Wolf, Dude, and Cookie were men I wouldn’t hesitate to go
on a mission with.

  “We wanted to discuss if this was just blowing smoke up our asses, or if we should take it seriously,” Commander Hurt said.

  Cutter continued. “He knows that you and I are connected, which is why, I'm assuming, he went through my channels to get this message to you.”

  I'd known Cutter for years, since I was a teenager who got into far too much fucking trouble. He’d helped whip my reckless ass into shape, helped me train, become the SEAL I was today. It wasn't a secret that we were connected.

  “It’s not just because I’ve known you since you were some scrappy punk. We are connected in another way too.” I felt my blood run cold.

  Lily.

  The other SEALs exchanged glances, and Dude pulled a phone out and put it on the table in front of him. A second later the raspy Russian voice of Makonovich came through. My body tensed just hearing that fucker. He spoke in Russian, his native tongue like shards of glass in my fucking ears.

  Once the message was over I stood there, trying to stay calm, trying to come up with a game plan. All I kept thinking about was the last part he’d said, after all his fucking taunting and the pissing contest he was trying to display.

  “I’m going to come after what you hold dear, what you love, the one thing you try and pretend you don’t want.”

  How the fuck did he know who I loved?

  Wolf and Cookie looked grim. Dude looked pissed. But it was Cutter I turned to, wanting to see his reaction. He was the one I was closest with, the one I respected so fucking much. I needed to know if he was thinking the same thing I was. I stared at him and saw that he had the same intense expression on his face that I probably wore. We both knew what this meant.

  Makonovich was going to go after Lily.

  2

  Lily

  I laughed at something Henry Reznor said, one of the retired marines at this informal gathering. Truth was Henry was kind of a pig, but he was harmless. His jokes weren't even funny and were kind of on the lewd side, but he’d lost his wife years ago, and I knew he probably found this kind of outlet normal behavior.

  I felt bad for him more than anything.

  I classified him as one of those dirty old men that kind of made you feel uncomfortable but meant no real harm.

  I excused myself and went to the bar for a glass of champagne. It was just to get away from Henry but also from anyone else who wanted to small talk. Cutter, a man who was like a father to me, had invited me to the party. After my own dad died, Cutter had stepped up. He'd known my father from way back in the day, and ever since then had always been a presence in my life.

  He'd taken me under his wing and cared for me. He’d given me advice—hell, he'd been a shoulder to cry on when I needed it. My mother had been too wrapped up in her grief to realize what Dad’s death had done to me, so I was forever grateful Cutter had been there.

  As I waited for my champagne, I sensed somebody behind me. I turned to see Brock standing there. My heart dropped to my stomach for a second before speeding up, threatening to burst through my chest.

  It would be easy just to say that I cared for him, that I'd always loved him. But being so close to him always had the words freezing in my throat, refusing to leave. I’d known him for years but had been weak, scared of actually voicing how I felt, what he meant to me.

  I had to crane my neck back in order to look at his face. Brock was so much bigger and taller than I was. He made me feel like a woman, feminine compared to his masculinity. I swallowed a lump in my throat, not sure what to say or how to act. I felt so out of my element around him that I knew he must think there was something seriously wrong with me.

  But then I saw Cutter come up behind him, and the expression on both men’s faces told me that something was wrong. Instantly that arousal I felt for Brock was pushed to the back as worry ate at me. These men were trained, dangerous, and if they looked concerned, then I knew I needed to be too.

  “Your champagne, miss,” I heard the bartender say from behind me, but I didn't look at him. I was too focused on Cutter and Brock, who still stood in front of me like statues. “What? What's wrong?” I glanced between the two of them, my heart thundering in a way that had nothing to do with my desire for Brock.

  “Brock is going to take you to a secure place. He'll explain everything then.”

  I stared at Cutter after he spoke. His voice was harsh, clipped. He was all business right now. I knew not to argue or question what was going on. Instead I nodded once and let Brock take my elbow as he led me out of the party.

  Whatever was going on was serious, and I was scared shitless.

  Brock

  Lily knew the routine, or at least she was smart enough to know that something was going on and she needed to be on alert and prepared. She hadn't asked to stop at home to pick up any items. We'd just headed straight to a semi-secure that would keep her protected until I heard word from Cutter and the other team on what was going on and what the plan was.

  “Someone will be bringing up supplies and clothing later,” I said, watching as she walked around the cabin. It was small, confined. But it needed to be that way in order to be safe. The security system that had been installed around the cabin would alert me if anyone came onto the property. There was always a small stash of guns and ammo.

  This was the safest place to have Lily at the moment on such short notice, and I wasn't about to fuck around with that.

  She turned to face me, her eyes wide, the fear and worry on her face evident. "What's going on, Brock?" Although her voice was strong and steady, I could see the way she clasped her hands together, maybe to stop them from shaking.

  “Have a seat and I'll explain what I can.” I wasn't about to go into the nitty-gritty details, but she needed to know what we were up against, even if this was just a false alarm.

  When she was seated on the couch, I moved closer and leaned against the wall across from her. I stared at her, hating that the circumstances had to be this way, that we were stuck together because her life was in danger.

  “A year ago I took down a dangerous Russian associate of the mob. I thought I killed him, but Cutter and a few SEALs he works with informed me that he was alive.” I let that sink in for a second before I continued. “He left me a message, a very personal one, and because of that message Cutter and I believe you may be in danger.” I heard her sharp intake of breath, but she stayed still, silent. “He may just be blowing smoke up our asses, but this man is dangerous, excessively violent. I'm not about to put you at risk in hopes that he might be bluffing.”

  “If you guys thought he was bluffing, you wouldn’t have me at this cabin right now.”

  I closed my eyes and ran a hand over my head. She was right. When it came to Makonovich, I wasn't about to risk anything. And deep down I knew the asshole wasn't just making an idle threat. I knew he'd do whatever it took to get back at me.

  “Don't worry about anything.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. “No one and nothing will hurt you. I fucking guarantee that.” I pushed off the wall and moved toward her. “Let me show you where you can sleep. Dude is supposed to be bringing over supplies and shit later on. But it's getting late so maybe you want to rest?”

  I stared at her for long seconds, wanting to reach out and just hold her. I wanted to tell her again that everything would be okay, that she had nothing to worry about, that the fear on her face was unwarranted. But I couldn't say any of that because I didn't really know.

  I’d protect her with my fucking life, die to make sure she was safe, but when it came to this sadistic fucker, I didn’t know what to expect.

  I needed to wait to hear from Cutter and the other men on what the hell was going on. Right now I needed to stay calm and act like I had my shit together. Because letting Lily see that I was on edge wasn't going to help anything or anyone.

  She was my first priority. Always.

  3

  Lily

  Brock shut the door, leaving me alone. I sat on the bed, loo
king around at the sparsely decorated room. My heart was still thundering, and although I knew I looked nervous, I thought I was handling myself pretty well. I trusted Brock with my life, Cutter too. If they thought I was in danger and this was the best place for me, I’d never argue or fight them on that.

  But I'd never been put in a situation like this, my life never threatened. I wasn't quite sure what was going on aside from the vague and cryptic explanation Brock had given me. He'd only told me the bare basics.

  I could understand why this man would be going after Brock, not just because of the profession Brock was in but because he’d tried to kill him. But what did I have to do with any of this? That was the one piece of information Brock hadn't explained to me.

  I could almost understand if this was Cutter and me in the situation. I was close to the older man, looked to him as a father figure. But Brock… Aside from an unspoken attraction, an intensity that I felt for him, and our connection to Cutter, we had no ties.

  I closed my eyes and lay back on the bed, breathing in and out slowly. I was so confused, scared, and worried about what was going on. I had to put my faith and trust in Brock, knowing that he'd handle business and make sure nothing bad happened. But that didn't stop me from worrying about the what-ifs.

  What if this maniac found us?

  What if he hurt—or worse, killed—Brock?