assaulted him. It was quiet inside, the pulsing roar of the ocean muffled by the drapes.
With the hairs threatening to rise on the top of his head, Sebastian clicked on the penlight. He panned it around the room, taking in the serviceable furniture—all Navy issue, nothing personal. Miller had lost more than a wife in his divorce, apparently.
The beam of light slid over a desk opposite the balcony. The stains on the wall riveted Sebastian's attention. He stood there a moment, looking at the pattern of blood and gray matter. He hadn't gotten to the rank of master chief without seeing some terrible stuff, but this was bad.
Supposedly, Miller had shot himself in the forehead. In order for his brains to hit the wall like that, he would have had to have been sitting in his desk chair, facing the sliding-glass doors.
The authorities had stated that Miller left behind a suicide note. If that had been left on his desk, it would have been covered in gore.
Struggling for detachment, Sebastian took several pictures of the stains and the desk's sticky surface. He reached for a drawer and opened it. Aside from a box of nine-millimeter pellets, the desk stood conspicuously empty.
Taking a final look around, he slipped outside to clear the stench from his lungs. He stowed his camera and pen-light and glanced down, finding the area around the BQs quietly deserted.
The aura of death surrounded him, making his skin feel tight. He looked to the stars for relief, taking comfort in their glittering presence.
The biggest mistake a man could make, Sebastian mused, was to live his life as Miller had, estranged from his family, giving all he had to the SEALs. There was more to life than that. And if God was merciful, Sebastian would soon know the joys of having his own family, becoming a father.
Only first he would have to convince Leila Eser to trust her heart to him.
They had an agreement, he and the Turkish-American woman who'd danced into his life last spring, changing everything. Suddenly he'd seen a future for himself that he'd never before envisioned—a life apart from the SEALs, as a husband and a father.
But Leila, who'd been abandoned by her spouse and left financially destitute, wanted nothing from Sebastian but a baby. At thirty-eight, her biological clock was winding down. And so, Sebastian had agreed to give her a baby in exchange for the pleasure of her company, once a month.
Only it wasn't enough. And with the reminder of how transient life could be, it seemed suddenly imperative that Sebastian make an effort to change Leila's mind.
To do that he would have to unsettle her safe existence, to interrupt her staid routine. He smiled just thinking of her outrage. She was as passionate in her anger as she was in bed.
As the moon skated out of sight behind a cloud, Sebastian threw a leg over the railing and began the perilous climb down.
Chapter Five
Virginia Beach, Virginia
22 September ~ 03:14 EST
Hannah rolled onto her back and sighed. She'd obviously confused her inner clock by staying up nights in her cell in Santiago, watching the movement of the guards. It didn't seem to matter that Westy's guest bed was a thousand times more comfortable than her cot at the Spanish fort. With a headboard that Westy'd carved himself, the bed took up most of the space in the spare room, tucked into the eaves of his 1940s bungalow-style house.
The whitewashed house was quaint and comforting, with a front porch, dormers, and a black Labrador retriever named Jesse. Hannah ought to be able to sleep just fine. God knew she was tired enough.
Except that every time she closed her eyes, memories of the last three weeks crept over her. Ernie's jovial laughter echoed in her head, and her heart broke anew to think that she would never see him again. In the chaos following his death, there'd been no time to miss him. Now grief hit her squarely in the chest, bringing reminders of the devastating loss she'd suffered three years before.
Ernie had
With the hairs threatening to rise on the top of his head, Sebastian clicked on the penlight. He panned it around the room, taking in the serviceable furniture—all Navy issue, nothing personal. Miller had lost more than a wife in his divorce, apparently.
The beam of light slid over a desk opposite the balcony. The stains on the wall riveted Sebastian's attention. He stood there a moment, looking at the pattern of blood and gray matter. He hadn't gotten to the rank of master chief without seeing some terrible stuff, but this was bad.
Supposedly, Miller had shot himself in the forehead. In order for his brains to hit the wall like that, he would have had to have been sitting in his desk chair, facing the sliding-glass doors.
The authorities had stated that Miller left behind a suicide note. If that had been left on his desk, it would have been covered in gore.
Struggling for detachment, Sebastian took several pictures of the stains and the desk's sticky surface. He reached for a drawer and opened it. Aside from a box of nine-millimeter pellets, the desk stood conspicuously empty.
Taking a final look around, he slipped outside to clear the stench from his lungs. He stowed his camera and pen-light and glanced down, finding the area around the BQs quietly deserted.
The aura of death surrounded him, making his skin feel tight. He looked to the stars for relief, taking comfort in their glittering presence.
The biggest mistake a man could make, Sebastian mused, was to live his life as Miller had, estranged from his family, giving all he had to the SEALs. There was more to life than that. And if God was merciful, Sebastian would soon know the joys of having his own family, becoming a father.
Only first he would have to convince Leila Eser to trust her heart to him.
They had an agreement, he and the Turkish-American woman who'd danced into his life last spring, changing everything. Suddenly he'd seen a future for himself that he'd never before envisioned—a life apart from the SEALs, as a husband and a father.
But Leila, who'd been abandoned by her spouse and left financially destitute, wanted nothing from Sebastian but a baby. At thirty-eight, her biological clock was winding down. And so, Sebastian had agreed to give her a baby in exchange for the pleasure of her company, once a month.
Only it wasn't enough. And with the reminder of how transient life could be, it seemed suddenly imperative that Sebastian make an effort to change Leila's mind.
To do that he would have to unsettle her safe existence, to interrupt her staid routine. He smiled just thinking of her outrage. She was as passionate in her anger as she was in bed.
As the moon skated out of sight behind a cloud, Sebastian threw a leg over the railing and began the perilous climb down.
Chapter Five
Virginia Beach, Virginia
22 September ~ 03:14 EST
Hannah rolled onto her back and sighed. She'd obviously confused her inner clock by staying up nights in her cell in Santiago, watching the movement of the guards. It didn't seem to matter that Westy's guest bed was a thousand times more comfortable than her cot at the Spanish fort. With a headboard that Westy'd carved himself, the bed took up most of the space in the spare room, tucked into the eaves of his 1940s bungalow-style house.
The whitewashed house was quaint and comforting, with a front porch, dormers, and a black Labrador retriever named Jesse. Hannah ought to be able to sleep just fine. God knew she was tired enough.
Except that every time she closed her eyes, memories of the last three weeks crept over her. Ernie's jovial laughter echoed in her head, and her heart broke anew to think that she would never see him again. In the chaos following his death, there'd been no time to miss him. Now grief hit her squarely in the chest, bringing reminders of the devastating loss she'd suffered three years before.
Ernie had
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