Undercover SEAL Page 16

  Dalton couldn’t blame his friend.

  But he didn’t have to like it either.

  Especially when that big, slow-moving thing in front of him turned out to have about twenty friends moaning, groaning, and hungry for blood.

  Rare thunder boomed in the background and the sound of rain beating on the windows of his apartment reminded Dalton that at least they were inside. “All right, guys. This is it. I’m going straight at these damn things. Cover me.”

  Jumping high into the air, he bounced off the metal catwalk above him, then came down right in the middle of the crowd of mindless killers and started roasting zombies with his flamethrower. All around him, bullets started spraying as his teammates tried to cover his aggressive move. It was a risky attack, but they were one man down and out of better options.

  Then someone knocked on the door of his apartment, distracting the crap out of him and almost causing him to toast Wes’s avatar by mistake.

  “Ignore that!” Wes yelled, moving to the side and reloading. “Stay on target.”

  A few seconds later, the knocking came again. Dalton yanked his headset off and tossed it on the coffee table with his laptop. “Pause the game.”

  “We can keep going without you,” Holden said. “You can catch up.”

  “Yeah, just like last time, right?” Dalton snorted as he got up and headed for the door. “When you got your ass whacked in twenty seconds without me.”

  Dalton didn’t bother looking over his shoulder to see if Wes and Holden were going to do the smart thing, but he heard them groan in acquiescence. Hopefully, he could get rid of whoever was at the door and get back to the game. After coming back from deployment, their Chief had put all of them on a four-day pass, saying they needed a break. Dalton wasn’t sure about that, but Call of Duty: Black Ops III was definitely a good way to burn through a few down days, especially since the weather was so crappy.

  He cursed as whoever was at the door knocked again, more insistently this time. If it turned out to be the old man from across the hall complaining about the noise, Dalton swore he going to do something violent.

  He jerked open the door, ready to roast whoever the hell was out there, but stopped when he found a beautiful woman with long, blond hair standing there staring at him. She was soaking wet, proof that the rain out there was as bad as it sounded.

  On the bright side, the rain had plastered the woman’s T-shirt to her skin, revealing more curves than a San Francisco street map. Damn, what a body.

  That was when he realized he recognized those curves.

  He jerked his gaze up to the woman’s face. Even though it carried more cares and concerns that he remembered, there was no doubt who the hell was standing on his doorstep.

  His traitorous frigging heart actually tightened in his chest.

  Fucking hell.

  “Kimber?” he said slowly, hoping he was wrong.

  He’d heard once that every person in the world had a doppelganger out there, someone who looked exactly like them. And after that insane mission down in Mexico when Nash had been able to play the role of an international arms dealer simply because he’d been a dead ringer for the guy, Dalton was ready to accept the possibility.

  When she nodded, Dalton had to face reality. Kimber Grant, the woman who’d dumped his ass five years ago was standing outside his apartment dripping rainwater all over the carpeted floor in the hallway.

  “Hey, Dalton.”

  He didn’t miss the fact that she still had the same incredible sultry voice she’d had back when they’d been together. Her voice that had been the first thing to attract his attention all the way across that crowded bar so many years ago. There was something about it that connected directly with his soul. And if he was going to be truthful with himself, other parts of his anatomy as well.

  As they both stood there staring at each other, Dalton absently wondered if his face gave away the bewildering array of emotions he was experiencing. Hell, he couldn’t imagine how it wasn’t since even he was having a hard time identifying all the different things he was feeling.

  There was shock for sure. He and Kimber had been dating seriously for months before she’d left. He thought it had been going well between them. He’d even started thinking their relationship could turn into something real. But then he’d come back from a mission and found her gone, with nothing more than a curt goodbye message waiting for him on his voice mail.

  Despite all that, he couldn’t deny there was a little twinge of happiness at seeing her again. But there was anger, too. He was furious that a woman who’d walked away from him without bothering to tell him why thought she could just show up at his door like nothing happened.

  Regardless, he couldn’t stand there staring at her all day while she dripped puddles of water all over the place.

  “Do you want to come in?” he asked. “I can get you a towel or something.”

  He could have sworn he saw see tears shimmering in her eyes, but she blinked them away before he could be sure.

  “Thanks,” she said softly. “I guess I could use a towel. I didn’t bring an umbrella with me. I didn’t expect it to be raining in San Diego.”

  Dalton stepped aside and motioned her inside. There was a sudden rush of movement behind him and he didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know Wes and Holden had been standing there listening in on the conversation. By the time he turned around, they were both back on the couch, trying their best to look disinterested, and failing horribly.

  “Kimber Grant, Wes Marshall and Holden Lockwood, two of my teammates,” Dalton introduced.

  He would have said more, but realized he had no clue what to say. Kimber and the guys were regarding him with expectant looks on their faces.

  “She needs a towel,” he said lamely.

  Wes and Holden both frowned at that. He ignored them and headed for the bathroom in the hallway. Grabbing a towel off the rack, he gave it a quick sniff to make sure it was fresh, then brought it out to Kimber. She was standing to one side of the living room, probably so she wouldn’t drip on the area rug that occupied the middle of the space. He was glad, he guessed. He’d picked the brown rug up at a yard sale for ten bucks. It was nice, though.

  Kimber murmured a soft thank you as she took the towel, but then eyed it curiously for a second. He winced, worried that the thing did stink regardless of what his nose had told him. He wouldn’t be surprised. His nose was pure crap.

  “You know the Chargers don’t play in San Diego anymore, right?” she asked before running the NFL- logo towel all over her upper body, trying to squeeze the worse of the water out her shirt. Dalton did his best not to stare, but it was difficult. Kimber had one hell of a body and he couldn’t help but envy the towel.

  “They were here when I bought the towel,” he pointed out, only vaguely remembering the Chargers were supposed to move to LA. Apparently, he’d missed moving day.

  “Yeah, I know they were when you got it,” she said, a little smile touching her lips. “I was there, remember? You bought a matching set of these towels when we went to Del Mar Shores on the spur of the moment and had to stop at that strip mall to buy beach gear.”

  The moment Kimber mentioned the beach at Del Mar, Dalton remembered the day. He’d just gotten back from a grueling two week training mission in South America and had been eager to spend some time with his beautiful girlfriend. From the moment she’d picked him up from the base on Coronado, during the impulsive stop at the beach, a picnic dinner of pizza and wings on the grass of Bayview Park, then right up until they’d fallen asleep up on the roof of his apartment complex gazing at the stars, the whole day had been completely unplanned. And amazing.

  Based on the way Wes and Holden were looking at him after he’d managed to jerk himself out of the long buried memory, he was probably grinning like an idiot. Or possibly drooling since there had been a long, sexy shower somewhere in there right before they’d gone up to the rooftop.

  He reached out and to
uched that place of anger living right alongside every fond memory he had of Kimber and used it to wipe any trace of a smile off his face.

  “Are you just dropping by for old times sake or did you forget something the last time you were here? You did get the hell out of San Diego in a rush.”

  The words came out a bit more brusque than he’d intended. But it was too late to take them back now. Not that he would, even if he could.

  Kimber didn’t say anything, instead focusing her attention on squeezing water from her long, perfect hair, tears welling up in her eyes again. When she was done, she draped the towel over the back of a chair, then took a deep breath, like she was trying to gather herself. She glanced at Holden and Wes, then looked at Dalton.

  “Can we talk in private?” she finally said.

  Part of him wanted to tell her no, that anything she had to say she could say in front of Holden and Wes. Or better yet, she should leave. The time to say something was five years ago, preferably before bailing on him.

  But then he saw the desperation on Kimber’s face. It was a look he’d never seen there before.

  “Okay,” he said. “We can go into the bedroom.”

  Kimber led the way, reminding him of the fact that she knew it quite well. Dalton followed, flicking on the light switch and closing the door behind them.

  “You haven’t changed much in here,” she said softly, her gaze sweeping the room before settling on the king-size bed that dominated the room. “The comforter is the same one you had five years ago.”

  He shrugged, his eyes never leaving her. “It still works. But I doubt you’re here to talk about my choice of home decor. So, let’s cut the chit-chat and get to the point.”

  He knew he was being a jackass, but being so close to Kimber reminded him that he’d never really gotten her out of his system. And that pissed him off for some stupid reason.

  His words didn’t seem to bother her. Hell, it was like she hadn’t even heard him. Instead, she continued to fixate on the blue comforter on his bed like it was important. That’s when it hit him. This wasn’t some kind of strange social call. Something was wrong.

  “Kimber, what’s going on?”

  She blinked a few times like she was trying to hold back tears, then reached into the the small purse hanging across her body and pulled out a small photo. She gazed at it for a moment, then held it out to him.

  “Someone has kidnapped our daughter.”

  Dalton stared at the photo in Kimber’s hand, but didn’t take it. No way could he have heard her right. “What did you say?”

  Taking a step closer, Kimber took his hand and placed the photo in his palm. “You have a daughter. Her name is Heather, she’s five years old, and she’s in terrible danger.”

  Daughter.

  The word barely registered, much less made any sense. How could he have a daughter and not know it? This had to be some kind of trick. A lie. Though to what end, he wasn’t sure.

  He glanced at the picture of a smiling little girl with, dimples, enormous brown eyes, and blond hair done up in two floppy pigtails. As insane as it was, some instinct he’d never felt before told him she was indeed his daughter.

  “How is this even possible?” he asked softly, looking at the photo more closely. He’d swear the little girl had his eyes. He dragged himself away from the picture to look at Kimber. “When did you get pregnant?”

  She wet her lips. “That day you got back from South America. The one when we went to the beach at Del Mar.”

  “But we always used protection.”

  The moment the words left his mouth he knew that wasn’t true. There was one time when the moment had gotten away from them and they’d hadn’t used a condom.

  “We were in the shower, getting cleaned up after we got home from the beach,” she said, confirming what he already knew. “I wasn’t really worried at the time because of where I was in my cycle, but…well…it happened anyway.”

  He wanted to lash out at Kimber for allowing it to happen, but he knew that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like she’d tricked him into putting his penis in her without a condom on. He remembered being more than willing participant.

  He gazed down at the picture again, crazy emotions rolling through him. Part of him was furious with Kimber. Why hadn’t she told him he had a kid? How could she have walked away without telling him? But just as quickly, the anger drained away, replaced with a million other concerns…and a million other questions.

  Dalton opened his mouth to ask the first one that popped into his head when the bedroom door opened and Holden poked his head in. Wes peeked around him. They both looked like they’d discovered Santa Claus was real.

  “You have a kid?” Holden asked.

  Dalton scowled. “You were eavesdropping?”

  Holden opening the door the rest of the way and stepped into the room, Wes on his tail. “Some people might call it that, but I prefer to think of it as standing outside the door while you were in the middle of a conversation. It’s not our fault you and Kimber were talking loud enough for us to overhear.”

  Dalton rarely felt the need to punch one of his teammates, but he right then he felt like putting his fist in Holden’s face. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

  Holden considered that. “I guess. But the way you say it makes it sound sound like a bad thing. I like my version better.”

  Wes opened his mouth to reply, but Dalton cut him off with a glare. “I don’t have time for this. I’d throw both of you out right now, but you’d just stand outside and eavesdrop again.”

  Besides, his teammates were going to learn about it eventually.

  He looked at Kimber. “Tell me exactly what happened to Heather.”

  Kimber glanced at Holden and Wes, as if hesitant to talk in front of them. Apparently, she decided it wasn’t worth fighting over.

  “Yesterday morning, Heather and I were at a park near our apartment. She loves the swings there.” Kimber smiled sadly. “She was playing with her friends when the elderly woman on the bench beside me started chatting. I didn’t take my eyes off Heather for more than a minute and when I glanced over at the swings to check on her, she wasn’t there.” Kimber swallowed hard. “I wasn’t too worried at first because she and her friends like to play hide-and-seek among the trees, but all the other kids were still on the swings. I ran over to ask them where she was and they said she went with some man who said he was a friend of mine. I was about to call the police when I heard a cell phone ringing in my coat pocket. Only it wasn’t mine.”

  “The old woman planted it on you?” Wes asked.

  Dalton shot him a hard look, but Kimber only nodded.

  “It had to have been her. She was the only one close enough. And the minute I started looking for Heather, the woman left.”

  “Was she the one who called?” Dalton prodded.

  “No. It was a man. Probably the one who talked her into going with him.” Tears filled Kimber’s eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks, and it took everything in Dalton not to reach out and wipe them away. He might have done it, too, if Kimber hadn’t dashed them away. “He told me that they had Heather and that I needed to do exactly what they wanted or they’d hurt her.”

  Dalton was shocked at how much hearing his daughter was in danger terrified him. He’d never met Heather and yet the urge to protect her was overwhelming. In all the time he’d been in the SEALs, he’d never felt the desire to truly hurt someone. Yeah, he’d killed people, but that had always been part of the job, plain and simple. When he got his hands on the people who’d kidnapped his daughter, he was going to fucking annihilate them.

  “How much money do they want?” he asked tightly.

  He didn’t have much, but he’d give Kimber everything he had.

  “They didn’t want money.” She sniffed. “They want me to steal a batch of prototype computer chips from the company where I work.”

  In college, Kimber had majored in marketing with a minor in information technology. He’d
rarely understood half of what she’d talked about back then, but she obviously finished her college degree while raising their daughter and ended up getting that dream job she’d always talked about.

  “Something tells me getting these chips is more complicated than walking into your office, picking them up, then walking out, huh?” Holden asked.

  Kimber nodded. “JASCO Technologies designs integrated circuits and software routines for a lot of different applications. Everything from video games, satellites, and self-driving cars to classified Department of Defense programs. The chips they want are in the secure side of our facility and there are mountains of barriers between it and the areas I normally have access to. I tried to tell the man who called me that they had the wrong person. That there was no way I could get what they wanted.”

  “But they didn’t care,” Dalton finished for her.

  “No.” Kimber looked so defeated and hopeless that it tore his heart out. “They told me to figure out a way and gave me three days to do it or…or they’ll kill our daughter.”

  Dalton stared down at the photo of his daughter, his heart beginning to pound. They’d given Kimber three days. Assuming the clock had started ticking when they’d grabbed Heather, that left them less than forty-eight hours to make this happen.

  “And you have no idea who these people are?” Wes asked. “You didn’t recognize the man’s voice?”

  She shook her head, another tear running down her cheek. “I don’t even know what kind of chips they are. They just gave me a product ID number, which is how we track components in the facility. The only people who know exactly what the chips do is the CEO of the company, a few of the top security people, and the engineers who built it.”

  “Have you told any of them about the kidnapping?” Holden asked. “Or called the cops?”