Finding Carly (SEAL Team Hawaii #5)(2)

She wanted to hate him. Wanted to resent his interference in her life. Wished he’d just let her hide in peace. But she couldn’t. He’d kept her sane, kept her from completely freaking out.

And there was the fact that Carly had developed the biggest crush on the man, even before Shawn’s kidnapping attempt.

But she’d learned her lesson about dating older men. Granted, Jag was only ten years older, and was nothing like Shawn, but still.

As Carly sat on her floor, her ass numb, thinking about the last couple of months, the anger in her belly continued to grow. Shawn was an asshole. He’d never taken responsibility for his own actions, instead blaming everyone around him. And when they’d started dating, Carly had soon found herself the recipient of most of his anger. She couldn’t do anything right. Was immature and stupid and irresponsible.

She was ashamed to admit that she’d started to believe him.

No one knew exactly what she’d been through with Shawn. She kept it to herself. Smiling and joking at work, yet feeling beaten and broken inside. Then he’d almost killed her friend. It had all been too much.

Carly desperately wanted her life back. She was broke, lonely, and terrified to step outside her apartment, in case Luke was waiting to get revenge for his dad’s death.

A week and a half ago, she’d actually let Jag talk her into going to Kenna’s wedding. It was the first time she’d willingly gone out in public in months…and one of the most painful days of her life. Kenna was beautiful. She’d looked so damn happy. Carly was happy for her, but sad for herself. She no longer knew what was going on in her friend’s life. Or the lives of any of the new friends she’d met through Jag’s team. And she didn’t know Monica at all, who’d recently joined the small circle of women Carly had just started to get to know.

Attending the wedding had hammered home that life was passing her by. She missed her friends. She wanted what they had. And she wouldn’t get any of it by sitting on her ass shaking like a leaf in her apartment.

Feeling as if she were a hundred years old, Carly leaned over and picked up her phone, which was sitting on a small table next to her bed. She gripped it tightly and unlocked the screen, staring down at her contact list.

Elodie. Lexie. Kenna. Jag. The rest of Jag’s SEAL team was programmed in as well, but Carly had never called or messaged them. She clicked on Jag’s name and scrolled up. There were hundreds of texts from the last few months. Most from him, asking how she was, if she’d eaten, if she needed anything, or if she wanted him to come over. Even though she rarely allowed herself the luxury of inviting him over, when he did come, she felt a short-lived relief.

She’d last seen him at the wedding. He’d gotten upset with her for wanting to leave early. She’d been frustrated with him for not understanding how hard it was for her to come to the ceremony in the first place. She’d had only one text from him since. The following day, short and to the point. Carly stared at the words he’d written.



Jag: Headed out on a mission. When I get back, we’re gonna talk.



For the first time in a while, Carly worried about someone other than herself. Was he okay? She had no idea where he was, which she knew wasn’t something she’d ever know, since he was a SEAL, but what if he’d been hurt? Or worse, killed?

That thought sent a pang of dread straight to her heart. And it wasn’t like the dull, constant fear she’d experienced over the last few months. It was all-encompassing.

Without thought, Carly’s thumbs flew over her keyboard as she typed out a message. It was long, much longer than the few words she usually used to communicate with him. She wanted—no, needed him to know she was thankful for his presence in her life. That without him, she didn’t know if she would’ve been able to handle what had happened to her. Not that she was handling it very well, but without Jag, she had a feeling she’d be in even worse shape than she was right now.



Carly: I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch to you. There are some days when your texts are the only thing that keep me from doing something drastic to stop the never-ending fear I’ve been living with. Thank you for forcing me to go to Kenna’s wedding. I would’ve hated myself if I’d missed it. I’m assuming you’re still gone, at least I hope that’s why I haven’t heard from you in a week and a half. I’m so tired, Jag. Tired of being a coward. Tired of being scared all the time. And I’m angry. Pissed. You’re right. Hiding isn’t going to make Luke go away. I want to live again. I want to be me again. When you get back, will you go to the police station with me? I want to talk to the detective. Want to find out what he’s discovered about Luke. How close they are to arresting him. I know it’s cowardly of me to use you as a crutch, but I swear it’ll only be until I’m on my feet again. I realize I’ve been selfish, and I’m going to try to change, to not think only about myself. I’ll get better, I swear. Please don’t give up on me.



Carly hit send before she could chicken out. Then she typed some more.



Carly: I hope you’re okay. I don’t know where you are, if you’re back in Hawaii or what, but now that I’ve realized how long it’s been since I’ve heard from you, I can’t help but think the worst. I hope your friends are okay too. I can’t even imagine something happening to Kenna’s new husband or the other guys. I miss you, Jag. I never realized how much your notes meant to me until they weren’t coming anymore.