Finding Carly Page 3

  Jagger Bennett was one hell of a sexy man, and last night she’d been plastered against his side. If she was a swooning kind of woman, she definitely would’ve swooned right then and there.

  “Get up, lazy bones,” he teased as he leaned over to put on his shoes and socks. “I’m starving. And you, my friend, need a shower in the worst way.”

  Carly couldn’t help but laugh. This Jag was a surprise. She’d never heard him kid around before. Not with his friends and definitely not with her. She scooted over and stood up.

  “Here, use this,” Jag said, stepping into the closet and pulling out the large suitcase Carly had brought with her when she’d moved to Hawaii. It had sat unused since then in the back of her closet. He’d obviously seen it at one point or another, because he hadn’t hesitated to grab it.

  “That’s way too big, Jag. I’ve got a smaller bag I can use to throw together a change of clothes and some toiletries.”

  He met her gaze and shook his head. “No. Pack as much as will fit in here. You’re gonna be at my place until we figure out your situation.”

  Carly stared at him in surprise. “Jag, we have no idea how long that will take. It’s been months as it is.”

  He didn’t comment, merely lifted an eyebrow at her, then walked over to the bed with her suitcase in hand. He laid it down and unzipped it. “Fill it,” he ordered, then, ignoring her gaping, turned and walked out of the room.

  Butterflies swam in Carly’s stomach as she stared at the extra-large suitcase. She was so conflicted. She wanted to protest. But at the same time, a part of her was jumping up and down like an excited kid on Christmas Day. Her apartment had so many bad memories.

  Every moment she’d hid in her room with a knife in her hand, because she thought she’d heard someone trying to break in. Every sleepless night. Every day she’d spent filled with despair over how horrible her life had become.

  But move in with Jag? Could she do that?

  Her phone vibrating on the table next to the bed made Carly jump. She walked over and picked it up, and saw a text from Kenna.

  * * *

  Kenna: The guys are back! And Marshall said Jag went over to your place. You can trust Jag, he’s a good guy. You know that. I know we don’t talk as much as we used to, but I miss you, Carly. Work isn’t the same without you. If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away. But then again, you’ve got Jag. Do what he says. Even if it seems crazy and you have no idea what the hell he’s thinking. Our SEALs know what they’re doing. Promise.

  * * *

  It was the nudge Carly needed. Hadn’t she just decided to do whatever she needed to do in order to move on with her life? And staying with Jag for a while would definitely rip her out of her comfort zone and get her back on a path to normal.

  She put the phone down and headed for her closet. Jag was hungry and she needed a shower. She wanted to pack quickly so they could get out of here. The upcoming talk he insisted on having would be uncomfortable, not to mention the visit with the detective assigned to her case, but she’d wanted Jag’s help, and it looked like she was getting it.

  Carly knew she had to be open and honest with him. Doing so might end any chance she had of becoming more than friends with the man…but so be it.

  Carly was done being a coward. Even if it was easier said than done, she was moving on. Shawn Keyes had taken enough from her. It was time to put everything that had happened behind her and take back her life.

  She wasn’t an idiot, she knew she could still be in danger. Luke was still out there somewhere, probably waiting for the perfect time to take his revenge for his father’s death, but determination rose within her. Somehow, with Jag by her side, she felt as if she could take on the world.

  But with baby steps. First step, put the toxic environment of her apartment behind her for a while. Second step, shower and eat something besides ramen noodles. Third step…well, time would tell what that would be. But it wouldn’t be cowering in her apartment anymore.

  With renewed determination, Carly continued to fill the suitcase.

  Shawn’s accomplice stared out a window in his condo and scowled at the beautiful day. It wasn’t the sun he was pissed at, it was her. Carly Stewart.

  Shawn had died because of that bitch. And she needed to pay for his death.

  He’d been watching her, waiting for an opportunity for months. But she never left her fucking apartment.

  At first, he assumed avenging Shawn would be easy. He’d planned to offer Carly a ride home from his friend’s memorial service and quickly finish what he’d started. But she hadn’t even shown up! The utter disrespect infuriated him.

  Shawn had taken her in, a naïve twenty-something, and tried to mold her into a mature woman. Someone who would be there for her man, stand by his side, see to his every need. And in return, she’d metaphorically spit in his face. Rejected him in the most humiliating way possible. She’d taken out a protective order against him. It was complete bullshit.

  Shawn had been a good man. The very best. That slut didn’t know how good she’d had it. If he could be half the man Shawn had been, he’d consider himself lucky. But the dumb bitch hadn’t appreciated him. Hadn’t respected him and all the things he’d done for her.

  And no matter how many times Shawn had tried to talk to her after she dared to walk away, no matter how often he’d explained that if she’d just listen to him, she’d go much further in life, be more than a lowly waitress, she’d ignored him.

  It was no wonder Shawn had to discipline her. She was a wild animal who needed to know her goddamn boundaries.

  Women shouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without letting someone know where they were, who they were with. It was a dangerous world out there. If men like him and Shawn were going to protect their women, they had to know their every movement, at all times.

  It made perfect sense.

  He’d learned so much from Shawn. Including how to be a real man in a relationship, how women just needed to be shown the correct path in order to be a good girlfriend or wife. Women were fundamentally weak. They needed men to lead them. To keep them safe.

  And the bitch was not only too stupid to see what a good thing she’d had with Shawn, she was disrespectful to the nth degree.

  The fact that she’d refused to move in with him was the final straw. How could Shawn continue to mold her properly if she wasn’t sleeping by his side every night? A man had needs, and Shawn told him all about how Carly had refused to sleep in his bed at the end. Had refused to kiss him. It was unacceptable. She was a disgrace. And she had fucked up everything—for both him and Shawn.

  When his friend came to him, upset and angry after being served with the protective order, they’d discussed what his next steps should be. It felt so good that his friend had opened up to him about his problems, trusted him to help. He’d been truly honored. They’d decided Carly needed to be taught a lesson, of course. No one said no to Shawn Keyes. He was the best the bitch would ever get, and she needed to understand the mistake she’d made by throwing him away.

  The plan was perfect…except the evening they were set to carry it out, everything had gone wrong. The bitch had left work early because she was sick and the biggest storm the area had seen in years rolled in.

  In the end, Shawn had died.

  It wasn’t fair! Carly hadn’t been taught her lesson—and it was now up to him to finish the job. He would honor his friend by making Carly pay.

  The original strategy had to change, unfortunately. There was no time for days of torture. Snatching her from work was no longer an option. And he wasn’t interested in fucking the bitch, as Shawn himself had planned to do; no way in hell would he get his cock anywhere near her poison pussy.

  No, she just needed to die. Disappear without a trace.

  There were plenty of places he could dispose of her body where it would never be found. The most effective option was the sea. The millions of gallons of water would swallow her up and never spit her ou
t.

  Anger churning at the delay, he vowed to avenge his friend. Carly Stewart would rue the day she’d rejected such a fine man. Then, and only then, could he go on with his life with a clear conscience.

  Regrettably, he knew he had to wait even longer. Wait until the right time. When her guard was no longer up. The bitch hadn’t left her apartment in ages—and he would know. He was at least thrilled that she seemed to be so terrified; she should be. Danger was coming for her.

  But vengeance would be so much sweeter if it struck when she least expected it.

  She couldn’t hide out forever. And when she finally crawled out from under the rock where she was cowering, he’d be there. Waiting and ready to strike.

  The man turned from the window abruptly. He knew exactly how he would end Carly’s life. He couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Three

  Now that Jag had gotten Carly to his apartment, he wanted to nail the door shut and never let her leave. He’d dreamed about her being here more nights than he could count. If it was up to him, she’d never go back to her own place.

  He’d been interested in Carly for months, and watching her suffer had been extremely painful and frustrating because he hadn’t been able to do much to help her. But now that she’d reached out to him, he wasn’t going to let her down. The thought that he wanted her to stay with him permanently was crazy, but Jag had seen this exact thing with his friends. Once they’d gotten their women into their lairs, so to speak, they’d never left.

  And that’s what he wanted. Carly was his. He felt as if he’d known her forever and he couldn’t seem to shake her. Didn’t want to shake her.

  The thing was, Jag knew she could do so much better than him. He was broken inside. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to have a normal relationship, not after his childhood. But for Carly, he wanted to try. Wanted to rise above the shit swirling in his head and be the kind of man she could rely on.

  He just wasn’t sure he could.

  Pushing away thoughts of his past, Jag did his best to concentrate on the here and now and the meal he was making. The waffles were almost done, then he’d scramble a few eggs. Carly needed to eat. She’d lost some of the lush curves he admired, and the thought of her skimping on food because she didn’t have enough money made him almost physically ill.

  He’d given her too much space. He wanted to help her, but he should’ve done more, considering how bad her situation had gotten. That was over now. She was here and they were moving forward.

  He’d slept like a rock last night. Yes, he’d been exhausted from the mission and traveling, but it was more about having her in his arms, knowing where she was and that she was all right, allowing him to finally let go and fall into a deep sleep.

  He’d felt a hundred times better this morning, enough to suggest she pack and come to his place. Jag was actually surprised she’d agreed so easily, but he’d seen the determination to move on in her eyes. Less than two weeks ago, at Kenna and Aleck’s wedding, he’d seen a spark of anger, and he’d actually hoped to work with that. But as it turned out, Carly didn’t need him lighting a fire under her ass. She’d decided for herself.

  She was strong as hell. He just needed to help her see that.

  “Your shower is amazing.”

  He turned to see Carly walking toward him. Her blonde hair was still damp around her shoulders. She had on a pair of shorts and a long-sleeve T-shirt. Her feet were bare and the sight of her toes made him smile.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with ten different colors on their toenails before.”

  Carly gave him a sheepish grin. “I had to do something all day while I was cowering in my apartment.”

  Jag put down the spoon he was using to scramble the eggs before pouring them into the pan, then walking over to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and waited until she met his gaze. “Don’t,” he said in a low, earnest tone. “You did what you had to do in order to survive.”

  “Jag, I hid out in my apartment like a kid hiding from the boogeyman. It was…pitiful.”

  He shook his head firmly. “No, it wasn’t. You just needed some time to process. And I happen to think it was smart. I hate that you were scared, are scared, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that asshole doesn’t get anywhere near you.”

  “If he really wants me, there’s not much anyone can do. He’ll find a way. You and I both know that.”

  “Then I’ll do what I can to teach you how to defend yourself,” he said easily. He hated it, but she was right. If he’d learned nothing from his teammates’ women’s situations, he’d learned that he couldn’t be by Carly’s side 24/7 and there was a better-than-average chance Luke would be able to get to her eventually. “You’ve been a prisoner in your apartment long enough. You need to start living again. Fuck him,” he said harshly. “You can show him that you’re stronger than he or his father thought you were. Nothing will get you down. And if he does decide to be an idiot and pick up where his dad left off, he’ll be sorry, because you’ll kick his ass and make him wish he forgot your name.”

  Jag hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of Luke, or anyone else, getting their hands on Carly made his blood curdle. He knew with a bit of training, Carly could outsmart him and prove he’d picked the wrong woman to set his sights on.

  She gave him a small lopsided smile. “In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m not exactly SEAL material,” she said with a shrug.

  “You don’t have to be,” Jag told her. “You can use his size against him. He won’t expect you to fight back and…don’t take this the wrong way, but because of the amount of time you’ve spent hiding, he’ll think you’re too terrified to do anything to help yourself.”

  Jag could tell Carly wasn’t fully convinced, but he did like how she seemed to stand up a little straighter.

  “It smells good in here,” she said after a moment.

  She was obviously done with this particular conversation, so he let her change the subject. “What do you like in your eggs?”

  “Um…what do you have?”

  “Everything.” Jag let his hands drop from her shoulders and he took a step back. What he really wanted to do was pull her into his embrace and tell her that everything was going to be all right, but he didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable.

  Carly chuckled. “Everything?”

  “Yup. Bacon, green or red peppers, cheese, salt and pepper, salsa, chorizo sausage, mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, spinach, ham, sour cream, hot sauce. I think the sour cream and cheese are still good, and frozen veggies will have to do until I can get to the store.”

  “Holy crap, people put all that on their eggs?”

  “Well, probably not all of it at the same time.” Jag grinned. “And usually those things go into an omelet. But I can never get omelets to work right, so I usually just mix everything together with my scrambled eggs. I figure it’s the same thing, even if it doesn’t look as pretty. So…what’s your preference?”

  “Can I have green pepper, cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, and sour cream?”

  “You can have whatever you want, angel,” he told her.

  “Can I help?” she asked next.

  “Sure. You can shred some cheese.”

  They worked together making their breakfast, and Jag felt a pang of longing so intense it almost made his knees buckle. He wanted this. Wanted her right next to him, smiling and relaxed as they made breakfast together in the future.

  The meal was done in no time and they settled at the small table next to the kitchen. Jag didn’t usually sit and eat there, he ate most meals standing up in the kitchen or in the living room as he watched TV.

  There was something so…homey…about sitting at a table with Carly.

  She stared down at the plate in front of her in disbelief. “You don’t seriously think I can eat all this, do you?” she asked.

  Jag winced
at the amount of food he’d made for her and shrugged a little self-consciously. “I hate the thought of you being hungry,” he admitted. “Just eat what you can. I’ll finish what you can’t or put the leftovers in the fridge.”

  They ate in silence for a moment before Jag broached the subject he’d been thinking about since he’d received her text after returning from his mission. “I’m happy to go to the police station with you. Thrilled actually. I want to find out what they’ve been doing to find Luke and to end this limbo you’re in. But why now? What changed?”

  Carly chewed and swallowed the bite of eggs she’d just taken, then put down her fork and leaned her forearms on the table. “I got tired of being pathetic,” she whispered.

  “You are not pathetic,” Jag told her.

  “I am. Was,” she said firmly. “I realized that hiding out in my apartment being scared wasn’t solving anything. I’ve been miserable and I miss my job, my friends. I miss people, Jag. Going to Kenna’s wedding was so scary. I kept thinking Luke was going to jump out from behind a tree or something with a bomb strapped to him and try to kidnap me. Or blow up everyone I love. By the time I could concentrate on the ceremony, it was over. I’d completely missed it because I was stuck in my head.

  “I saw Monica with the others—with Kenna, Lexie, and Elodie—and realized I don’t even know her. Ashlyn and Lexie talked about Food For All and the great things they were doing, and want to do, and it upset me that I had no idea what they were talking about. And the fact that Theo kept his distance from me…kind of hurt. I haven’t been around for so long, he’s practically forgotten me. All of that stuff sort of piled on, and I started to get mad.”

  Carly took a breath, and Jag couldn’t help but reach out and take one of her hands in his. He needed to touch her, to let her know that he was there for her.