Securing Brenae Read online

After several minutes of cuddling, she asked sleepily, “What do you have on tap for today?”

  “PT. Then a meeting with the base commander about what happened last week and to get an update on his replacement. Then I’m meeting with each of the SEAL teams to answer their questions and to reassure them that they will absolutely be safe when they go overseas on a mission in the interim. I have to go to NCIS and answer questions about the traitor from Bahrain, and to find out if I’ll have to testify in his hearing. I have a stack of paperwork a mile high I have to try to get through, and then hopefully convince my admin that she doesn’t want to quit as a result.”

  “So a normal day,” Brenae quipped.

  Dag chuckled. “Pretty much.”

  “You thought any more about retirement?”

  Dag stiffened and propped himself up on an elbow and tried to read her face. The light was too low for him to interpret what she was thinking. “You know all you have to do is say the word and I’m done,” he said softly.

  “I wasn’t hinting,” Brenae chided. “I just hate seeing you so stressed. I mean, I know you’re pretty much always stressed, but the last week has been worse. I wasn’t sure if everything that happened had tipped the scales, making you want to get out sooner rather than later.”

  Dag thought about it for a long moment. Then finally said, “Honestly, everything about that situation sucked, but I feel as if I’m needed even more now. I’m not so conceited to think that no one else can do my job, but with everything else going on, I have a feeling keeping things as normal as possible is the best thing for everyone. SEALs, their families, and my own bosses.”

  “I agree,” Brenae said softly. “I’m so proud of you, Dag.”

  “As long as you can say that, I’m good. The second that changes, I’m out.”

  “I’ll always be proud of you,” she said. “Always.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I’ve still got another hour before I have to get up and get ready for work,” Dag told her. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

  “You too?” she asked sleepily.

  “Sure,” Dag told her, but he knew he was lying. One of this favorite things in the world was holding her while she slept. He’d never told her, but he loved how easily she fell asleep in his arms. How she innately trusted him to keep her safe no matter what.

  The second he felt her deep, even breaths, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I swear the next thirty years are going to be easier than the first,” he vowed.

  Chapter Four

  A week later, Brenae was on the first floor of the apartment complex getting her mail from the mailroom, when the door opened. She turned to see who had entered and stared at the woman in surprise. “Caite?”

  The woman looked startled for a moment, then tilted her head to the side and said, “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m terrible with faces. Have we met?”

  Brenae smiled, liking the younger woman immediately. She was old enough to be her mother, if she’d had a daughter when she’d first gotten married, but also, something about Caite spoke to her. She’d taken it upon herself to learn as much as she could about the young woman who’d been the victim on the beach a couple of weeks ago. “Not really. I’m Brenae Creasy. My husband is Rear Admiral Creasy.”

  Caite immediately blushed. “Oh Lord. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you! I feel like an idiot. My boyfriend talks about your husband all the time. He admires him so much. And he was there when that crap on the beach went down. I haven’t seen him since then, but I wanted to thank him again for all he did.”

  Brenae waved off Caite’s thanks. “He was just doing what he does best.”

  Caite bit her lip, then said, “I’ve worked around military people for a while now, and I’ve learned to watch what I say…especially to spouses. I never know if they’re going to take what I say the wrong way or not. And now that I’m dating a SEAL, I’m even more paranoid I’m gonna say the wrong thing, especially to someone who’s married to someone as high ranking as your husband. But…I really want to ask something. I just don’t know if I should.”

  Brenae’s respect for the young woman rose even more at her honesty. She reminded her a lot of herself twenty-five years ago. She’d tried so hard to fit in, to make friends, only to get stabbed in the back more than once. It wasn’t until she’d stopped caring what everyone else thought that she finally came into her own. “Please, be honest. I can’t stand people who are nice to me because of who my husband is or any other superficial crap.”

  “Is your husband okay?” Caite asked.

  Brenae blinked. She thought for sure Caite was going to ask what in the world they were doing living in the apartment complex. Or what it was like being married to one of the highest-ranking officers on the base. Or something about the SEALs. The last thing she expected was for her to ask about Dag.

  No one ever wondered how her husband coped with stuff that happened, they just assumed he was fine because he’d been a SEAL.

  She had to take a second to compose herself before she answered. “He’s okay. Thanks.”

  Caite reached out and put her hand on Brenae’s arm. “Seriously, is he really okay? Rocco said he was friends with…” She swallowed hard before continuing. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure he was doing all right. Rocco didn’t personally know the guy, so he was just worried about me when the stuff on the beach happened. I didn’t even know your husband, and he didn’t know me, other than in the scope of the investigation, so everything probably hit him differently.”

  Brenae covered Caite’s hand with her own. She had a feeling in twenty years, the other woman would be a great wife to her own high-ranking husband and a huge asset to the navy. “He’s good. One thing you learn when you’re married to a tough-as-nails, alpha Navy SEAL is how to help your man let off steam. You figure out when he needs to be held tightly, and when to back off and let him work through shit on his own. I’m not saying it wasn’t a blow, but Dag’s okay.”

  “Thank God. I was worried about him,” Caite said. “And you’re okay too?”

  Brenae chuckled. “I should be asking you that.”

  “I’m more thankful than I can say that Rocco insisted on teaching me how to float a week before everything happened.”

  “You don’t know how to swim?” Brenae asked in surprise.

  Caite chuckled. “Nope. But I’m pretty good at floating now.”

  “Let me guess, Rocco has since taken you for several more lessons.”

  “Of course he has,” Caite told her easily. “But it’s not exactly a hardship to see him in his bathing suit.”

  “I imagine it isn’t,” Brenae told her.

  Caite looked at the mailboxes then back at Brenae, and her brow crinkled. “Are you here picking up mail for someone?”

  “Nope. I live here. Temporarily. Until the damn builders get off their asses and finish our house.”

  Caite laughed. “Thank God! For a second, I was wondering how horrible navy pay had to be for a rear admiral to be living here.”

  Brenae laughed with her. “We sold our other house sooner than we thought and since there weren’t any open houses on the base, we just bit the bullet and put most of our stuff in storage and rented the apartment here until our house is completed.”

  “That makes sense. I haven’t officially moved out of my apartment yet, but after everything that happened, Rocco was pretty insistent I move in here with him.”

  Brenae nodded. “I know we just met and all, and it’s not my place to give you advice, but…moving in with someone is a big step. And I’m saying this woman to woman…be careful and don’t give up your independence for a man. I mean, I like Rocco and the others on his team, but if they’re anything like my husband, they like to be in charge and to get what they want.”

  Luckily, Caite didn’t take offense. “Believe me, I know. I’ve thought about this long and hard. I’ve still got my own bank account, I’ll be starting a new job soon, an
d honestly…I want to be with Rocco full time. Before everything happened, I hated sleeping in my apartment by myself. I get what you’re saying though, and I appreciate it more than you know.”

  Brenae smiled. “It’s just that I see so many young women rushing into relationships, even giving up their financial independence because they’re desperate to be with a man.”

  “Honestly, Rocco wants me to work. I think he feels it’ll keep me busy when he gets sent on a mission.”

  “He’s smart. That’s very true,” Brenae told Caite. “After thirty years of being married to a military man, who was a SEAL for much of that time, believe me when I tell you that you need your own life and your own friends. More often than not, he’ll miss important events in your life, although not of his own volition, and you’ll need your own tribe to help you when he can’t.”

  “Does it ever get easier?” Caite asked.

  “What?”

  “Missing your husband when he’s gone? Worrying about him?”

  “Honestly?”

  Caite nodded.

  “No.” When the other woman’s face fell, Brenae hurried to explain. “But I’d never in a million years ask Dag to do anything other than what he’s doing. Even when he was gone for over six months one year, I never considered complaining to him about the time he was away from me and our kids. He was doing what he loved. Important work. And all that time away made me appreciate him more when he was home, and the same went for him with me. The best thing you can do for Rocco is support him. And know that even though his duty to his country is important, you are just as important.”

  “Thanks. I needed to hear that. He hasn’t even been gone that much since we’ve been together, but I dread it.”

  “If you ever want to talk, I’m happy to give you my number. I know when I first started dating Dag, I had so many questions about everything.”

  “I appreciate it. I’d love that. I’ve made pretty good friends with some of the other SEAL wives, and while they’re super friendly and all, I feel kinda like I’m on the outskirts when I’m with them. Not because of anything they’ve done, but simply because they’ve known each other for so long.”

  “You’ll find your own tribe,” Brenae reassured her. “Rocco is the only one of his team to have a girlfriend, right?”

  “Yeah, but how’d you know that?” Caite asked.

  Brenae smiled. “I’m a rear admiral’s wife. It’s my job to know everything about the dependents of the men under my husband’s command.”

  “You make me miss my mom,” Caite blurted, then grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I’m not saying you’re old or anything. Shit…” she mumbled, putting her forehead in her hand. “I’m going to shut up now before I make things worse.”

  “It’s fine,” Brenae told her with a chuckle. “You remind me of my daughter, and I miss her a lot, so we’re even.”

  The two women smiled at each other.

  Just then, they heard a commotion outside the small mailroom. Both women turned to see what was going on.

  A woman was loudly berating a man at her side. Her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke.

  “Holy crap,” Caite breathed. “She sounds really pissed.”

  Brenae watched uneasily. The fight didn’t sound like a normal disagreement. The woman was borderline hysterical, screaming at the man for allegedly cheating on her with the “skank in apartment 247.”

  The man wasn’t helping matters by rolling his eyes at the woman.

  Then she grabbed his arm and yanked on it. Hard.

  The man jerked to a stop and turned to glare at the woman. She reached up and put both hands on his chest, shoving him. He took a step backward, then brought his hands up and pushed her right back.

  Brenae gently grabbed hold of Caite’s arm and pulled her back, away from the door.

  “We should do something,” Caite protested.

  Brenae shook her head. “No.”

  “But what if he hurts her?”

  “Do you have your phone on you?” Brenae asked, ignoring Caite’s question.

  She shook her head. “I left it upstairs because I was just going to grab the mail and go right back up.”

  Brenae’s stomach clenched. She didn’t have her phone either, for the same reason.

  The woman’s screeching stopped abruptly—and Brenae was scared to peer through the window of the mailroom to see why. Something about the situation had her hackles up from the start.

  Then they heard the man let out a shocked scream, followed by a loud thud.

  Caite inched forward and peered out the window.

  Then she turned back to Brenae, her face white as a sheet. “She’s stabbing him!”

  “What?” Brenae asked in shock. She moved up beside Caite—and could hardly believe what she was seeing.

  The woman was hovering over the man, who was on the ground. Her arm flew up then back down, plunging a knife into his chest even as they watched. Then she did it again. And again.

  Bile rose up in Brenae’s throat at what she was witnessing. The woman was out of control, plunging the knife into the man’s chest, belly, and even his crotch, over and over in a completely uncontrollable frenzy.

  “Step away from the window slowly,” Brenae whispered to Caite.

  Just then the elevator door opened nearby, and a woman walked into the lobby. She took one look at the bloody and violent murder happening right in front of her eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  It was enough to startle the woman with the knife. She looked up…right into Brenae’s wide, shocked gaze.

  Ignoring the resident who had turned and run down the hall as fast as she could, probably to the exit at the end of the hallway, the woman with the knife stood, kicked the man at her feet who was no longer moving, and headed for the mailroom with a look of malevolence on her face.

  Brenae looked down and realized that the door to the mailroom didn’t lock. It was a simple swinging door. She pulled on Caite’s arm, yanking her backward toward the sorting table and trash bin on the opposite side of the room from the mailboxes.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Caite muttered as she stumbled away from the door.

  In seconds, the crazed woman kicked the door open, and it made an extremely loud bang as it slammed against the wall of the mail room.

  “You!” she said with a malicious look in her eye as she pointed the tip of the bloody knife in her hand at Caite. “You’re gonna pay for flirting with my boyfriend!”

  Chapter Five

  Dag ran his hand through his hair. He was tired but knew that was how he was going to feel for the next few weeks…until the navy brought in a replacement and that person was brought up to speed with operations. Dag would work himself to the bone if it meant making sure the SEALs he was ultimately responsible for were safe.

  His thoughts turned to Brenae. Once again grateful that she never complained when he had to put work before her. Never got bitter when he missed important anniversaries. Never blamed him when things didn’t go as they’d planned…curtesy of the US Navy. She just kept on keeping on. It was one of the million and one things he loved about her.

  Lately, a hell of a lot hadn’t gone as they’d planned, the least of which was their dream house not being completed on time and them having to move into an apartment for a few months. In the scope of life, it wasn’t a huge deal, but he knew how much Brenae had been looking forward to moving into the house they’d designed together.

  He was lost in thought about what he could to do surprise her, when Dag’s office door flew open. The door cracked against the wall behind it, and Dag was up with a knife in his hand before he’d even thought about what he was doing.

  Standing there was Blake Wise…known as Rocco to his friends and teammates. “Sir! Have you heard from your wife in the last fifteen minutes?”

  Shocked at the interruption and confused at the question, Dag said, “No. Why?”

  “Shit! There’s a hostage situation at
our apartment complex. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Caite. Her phone just rings before going to voicemail.”

  Dag immediately pulled out his cell phone and clicked on Brenae’s name. He stood tensely as it began to ring, and then went to her voicemail. Usually hearing her recorded voice message soothed him, but today he impatiently waited for the beep then said, “It’s me. Call the second you get this message.”

  “Sit-rep,” he barked at Rocco as he walked toward him, grabbing his keys on the way.

  Turning, Rocco headed out of the office and the two men strode down the hall toward the stairwell, side by side at a fast clip.

  “One of my neighbors called and told me that SWAT and San Diego PD were headed for the apartment complex. They were being told to shelter in place inside their apartments and not to let anyone inside until the cops showed up. He was watching out his window and saw the unit being surrounded. I called a contact I know in the PD and he said there was a report of a hostage situation near the lobby.”

  Dag’s heart almost stopped beating. He had no reason to think his Brenae was involved, but the hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up, a sure sign something wasn’t right.

  Without another word, the two men burst out of the building on the naval base and jogged toward Dag’s Land Rover. At that moment, they weren’t superior officer and subordinate, they were two men desperate to make sure their women were safe.

  On the way to the apartment complex, Rocco tried once more to get ahold of Caite, with no luck. Dag wasn’t able to get near the parking lot for the complex because of the police presence, so he simply left his SUV parked along a side street.

  It wasn’t often that Dag pulled rank, but he didn’t give a shit if someone accused him of using the fact he was one of the highest-ranking men on the naval base to get his way. He’d do whatever it took to get to Brenae.

  He walked up to a police captain and said, “I’m Rear Admiral Dag Creasy and many of my sailors live in this building. I need a sit-rep, and I need it now.”

  The captain looked surprised, but immediately told him what he knew. “We got a call about forty minutes ago from a hysterical woman who said she’d just witnessed a murder. When we got here, a hostage situation was in progress. We locked the building down and have all the exits covered. We’re waiting for more personnel to arrive and then we’ll try to establish contact with the perpetrator.”