Protecting the Enemy (The Protectors) Read online

  Protecting the Enemy

  The Protectors: Book Two

  Samantha Chase and Noelle Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Samantha Chase and Noelle Adams. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Protecting the Girl Next Door

  About Samantha Chase

  About Noelle Adams

  Prologue

  Sebastian

  I had the best night of my life when I was nineteen years old. I thought so then, and twelve years later, still nothing had ever matched it.

  It was the first time I had sex with Ali.

  We’d been together for a couple of months—not exactly dating but hanging out all the time. We’d been going to school together since she started at Benington Prep as a Freshman. My father was the school’s biggest donor, and one of the ways he contributed was through the Maxwell Scholarship for worthy students who couldn’t afford Benington’s tuition.

  Ali was a Maxwell Scholarship student.

  At first, I only talked to her occasionally. I was a year ahead of her, and she wasn’t in my circle of friends. Then we had Russian history together when I was a Senior and everything changed. We sat beside each other for months. Then we started studying together at the library or outside around campus. By the time I graduated, I had no interest in any girl except her.

  So that summer I kept calling her, asking her to hang out.

  No one really dated in high school. Kids just hung out or hooked up or declared themselves boyfriend and girlfriend. So there was nothing strange about our spending so much time together without ever having an official date. My feelings for her were new to me—different from anything I’d felt for girls before—and I was nervous about labeling it or maybe getting an answer from her that would crush me.

  I was nineteen, and I was stupid in a lot of ways, although nothing I’d ever done was as stupid as what I did at the end of that summer.

  One Friday I took Ali out to a horse farm in northern Virginia, about an hour outside of D.C. The farm was owned by the family of a buddy of mine, and Ali had mentioned she loved horses. We had a great time, exploring the property and admiring the horses. Then we ended up having a picnic on a blanket under a tree, out of sight of the house, stables, and outbuildings.

  “I can’t believe we only have another month before school starts again,” Ali said after we’d eaten. She leaned back, stretching out on her back on the blanket. She wore a little skirt in a soft material that she smoothed down around her thighs. Her legs were tanned and slim, and they made my body tighten with appreciation.

  So did the shape of her breasts beneath her top and the way she was smiling up at me, her dark hair spread out beneath her.

  I stretched out beside her on my side, propping my head on my hand. “I’ve got to start college.”

  “Since you have a ton of college credits already, it shouldn’t be too hard for you, I’d think.” She was still smiling up at me, making me smile back.

  “I don’t think it will be hard. I’m just not very excited about it. It will be a bunch of boring business courses, since so many of my high school classes counted toward the core requirements.”

  I had so many college credits from the accelerated coursework at Benington that I was coming into college with three semesters worth of credits. I could jump right into my business major and probably graduate in two years if I took a lot of classes each semester.

  “So take something other than business courses,” Ali said. “What are you interested in?”

  I gave a little shrug. “I don’t even know. And what does it matter, since my whole life is mapped out? College. MBA. Work for my father. Taking over the business when he dies.”

  She was frowning now. “You could do something else if you wanted. Couldn’t you?”

  “Not really. That’s not the way my life works.”

  Ali was looking concerned, like she didn’t like this fact of my existence. “But Sebastian—”

  “It’s really fine, Ali. It’s not a bad life. A lot of people would kill for a life like mine. So I’ll go to college and be a good boy.”

  “You should do something else, if that’s what you want to do. You’re not just your father’s son. You’re not just your family. You’re Sebastian.”

  I stared at her for a long time, hearing the words, processing the thought for what might have been the first time in my life.

  She must have seen something in my eyes that made her self-conscious because she dropped her eyes again. “And I for one think Sebastian is a pretty good guy.”

  My heart jumped. It literally jumped. “And I think Ali is pretty good too. Are you going to miss me being at Benington?”

  “Of course I will.” Her brown eyes were so soft, so warm, that they caused another clench in my chest. “Even if you never talked to me much, I always looked for you in the halls.”

  “Did you?”

  Her eyelashes fluttered down. “Yes. I did. I guess you’re so used to girls staring at you that you never noticed I was too.”

  “Girls don’t stare at me.”

  “Yes, they do! You know that, don’t you?”

  “Maybe just because they know who my father is.” All my life, I’d been known only as my father’s son. Sebastian, the only son of the rich, powerful, influential John Maxwell. That fact had defined my life since I was born.

  “No, it’s not that.” She’d slanted a shy look at me that made my heart pound in my chest. “It’s because you’re... you.”

  I couldn’t help but touch her. I reached out to brush a strand of hair back from her face. “Because I’m me?”

  “Yes, because you’re you. And there’s no one as amazing as you, Sebastian.” Her voice was soft, slightly wobbly. I knew it had been a risk for her to say so.

  And nothing had ever made me feel so good, so valuable, so worthwhile. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I leaned over to press a soft kiss on her lips.

  I heard her breath hitch. Then her hand lifted to tentatively touch my hair. That small response did something crazy to my body. I was throbbing now—with feeling, with desire, with everything.

  I kissed her again, and this time she kissed me in return, wrapping one of her arms around my neck.

  We kept kissing until we couldn’t stop, and we had sex right there on the blanket, completely secluded by the surrounding trees and the darkening of the sky at sunset.

  I’d had sex for the first time at fifteen, but Ali was a virgin. I tried to be careful, since I knew she was nervous as much as excited, and I was pretty sure she enjoyed it too. Maybe not as much as I did, but still...

  I was so overwhelmed with feeling at claiming her as mine that I was dazed afterwards, blurry, barely able to speak.

  We lay together in each other’s arms as our breathing slowed down and our bodies relaxed, and finally Ali pressed a little kiss on my chest. “Sebastian,” she whispered.

  She didn’t say an
ything else. Just my name. But it felt like a declaration of feelings—feelings that went as deep as mine did for her.

  I knew I loved her then. I knew there was no other woman who could ever be mine the way she was.

  Maybe it was an overdramatic conclusion, prompted by the best sex I’d ever had and the limited experiences of a nineteen-year-old boy.

  But so many years later, the conclusion continued to be true.

  No other woman was ever mine the way Ali was that night.

  ***

  Twelve years later, I was at the engagement party of my friend Levi and his fiancée, Harper.

  Believe it or not, I was still thinking about Ali.

  I tried not to—since that was a chapter in my life that was well and truly closed—but she still slipped into my mind at unexpected moments.

  Like now.

  I wondered how it would feel to be dancing with her tonight, holding her in my arms, going home with her—had I made different choices at the end of that summer.

  I wondered what she was even doing now.

  I’d made a point of never looking her up or asking any of my old friends if they knew where she was. I wasn’t going to feed the aching memory with new information.

  That didn’t mean I didn’t still think about her, though.

  I’d lost her, and I wasn’t ever going to get her back, so I needed to stop thinking about her.

  My effort to think about something different led my mind to someone else I’d lost.

  A friend.

  A good friend.

  One of my best.

  Gavin should have been here tonight. Right here, right now, standing here, watching the sister he loved with all his heart and the friend who had known him since forever. He should be celebrating the beginning of their life together.

  I shouldn’t be.

  I felt guilt eating away at me, but that was nothing new. If events had gone the way they should have on that fateful day not even a year ago, Gavin would be here. But there was no way to say that I was sorry or to right that horrible wrong. I was just stuck. Standing in a spot that should have been his.

  We were friends. We were comrades. We were a unit. We were Marines together. The five of us vowed to have each other’s backs and to be together until the end. But the end came way too soon. Backs weren’t had after all, and now we were only four. Gavin was gone. His family would never be the same, and it might be because I got distracted. I should have done better.

  The music was too loud. The crowd around me was swaying along with the happy couple, and excitement and laughter filled the air. But all I wanted was to get blind, stinking drunk and leave.

  Maybe daydream about Ali a bit more.

  Some great friend I was.

  Levi was one of my best friends, and I really was happy for him—at least that was what I kept reminding myself. Maybe if he was with someone other than Harper—someone other than Gavin’s sister—I’d be having an easier time of this. But now, because she was Gavin’s sister, I’d be forever reminded of what I did. What I didn’t do. What I cost her.

  Like I needed a reminder.

  Someone bumped my shoulder, and I turned to see Declan beside me, drink in hand, a smile on his face. Lucky bastard. I took the drink but didn’t return the smile. I couldn’t. The emotions inside me were damn near choking me.

  Declan looked as if he was about to comment on it when the music ended and everyone began cheering and clapping for the happy couple.

  I joined in but was half-hearted at best.

  I guess Declan could tell that I wasn’t in the mood for conversation because once everyone started to walk around and mingle again, he took off. Looking around, I saw Cole chatting up one of Harper’s friends. It was good to see him smile. Like Declan. Like Levi.

  Just not me.

  The photographer called out to the families of the future bride and groom. And that was my cue to toss back the drink that Declan had given me and go in search of another. The last thing I wanted to do was watch what a normal family did to interact with one another.

  What the hell must that be like?

  Without a word, the bartender refreshed my drink, and I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder. Levi’s dad was positively beaming with pride as he posed with his son. Beside them, his mother looked exactly the same way. I spotted Harper with her folks, and I was surprised to see the same expression on their faces. I knew this couldn’t be easy for them. I mean, sure, they’d be happy for their daughter, but she was marrying their son’s best friend.

  Their dead son’s best friend.

  I was sure on some level they were sad that Gavin wasn’t here to celebrate this day with them. I was also pretty certain that it had to be freaking painful to have that reminder hovering in front of their eyes every time Levi was there. And Gavin wasn’t.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe I just should have sent my damn gift and stayed home. I practically snorted in disgust and choked on my drink at that thought. Home. Like that was any better than this. At least here, I was surrounded by people who were, for the most part, happy. People who treated one another with respect and seemed to genuinely love one another.

  What the hell did I have? A family of freaks whose sole interest was making money and then lording it over the people around them. They called it a privileged life. I called it hell.

  I’d always planned to go into business with my father—I’d followed my scripted life all the way to college. But after less than two years of college, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’d defied my father and everyone’s plans for my life, and I’d joined the Marines.

  My family and all of my old friends were shocked and disappointed in my spontaneous decision. I’d lost touch with almost all my old circle. Sometimes I wondered if Ali would be proud of my finally doing something I wanted for myself, but she hadn’t said a word to me since I dumped her just before I started college.

  I wouldn’t have talked to me either.

  Finishing off my drink, I turned around to watch all the well-wishers, how they were laughing and smiling and having a good time. If there was anyone in this room who had a grudge—or any issues at all—you’d never know it from their behavior. No, this was a group of people at their best.

  Most of the time, when I was in a room like this, with a crowd like this, I’d be watching my back. My family had made a lot of friends over the years, but they’d made more enemies. I did my best to not get involved—to not be part of that upper-class world. It was getting easier now that we’d started the business. Who knew that protecting people and doing security work was in such big demand? Either way, I was glad for it. Glad for the distraction. It was giving me a chance to break away from family ties and old habits.

  I needed to break away completely—to prove that I was my own person, my own man, and not somebody’s errand boy or figurehead or whatever executive title it was that they wanted to engrave on an office nameplate. I wanted to be free to be just me. Sebastian. Not a Maxwell. Not a poster boy for high society.

  Just the guy that Ali had looked at with such admiration and appreciation all those years ago.

  I wasn’t sure I would ever be him again.

  Like it or not, I would always be a Maxwell. And unfortunately our name was too well known. Too much history. Too many connections. And I had to wonder how that was going to play out if I broke free from the world my father expected me to inhabit. I might walk away, but that didn’t necessarily mean it wouldn’t catch up with me.

  The Maxwells had made their share of enemies. I was sure it was only a matter of time before I ran into them.

  One

  Ali

  Being the assistant to an event planner was not a very glamorous job.

  I was pretty good at it since I was organized, efficient, and quiet, but it was not the job I’d dreamed of when I was growing up. I’d always imagined myself working in a museum, and my favorite history teacher in high school had advised me to go into anthropo
logy.

  Then everything changed during my freshman year of college when Maxwell Industries closed the office my dad worked for, and our lives spiraled downhill from there.

  I didn’t finish college. We couldn’t afford the tuition, and I needed to earn money to support my family. I worked in retail until I got this job as assistant to Cheryl Hoover, who was a big-time event planner in the DC area and who had gone to the same prep school as me.

  My job was mostly grunt work and biting my tongue, but it paid better than any other job I was qualified for, and at least I didn’t have to sell clothes or wait tables.

  There were other benefits too. For instance, I never would have been able to get into the luxurious home of Ken Gentry, the COO of Maxwell Industries, had I not been working for Cheryl.

  Right now my job had me snapping photos of his large, ornate ballroom.

  “Ali,” Cheryl called to me from across the room. She had her tablet in hand, but she never actually used it. She was dressed to the nines in four-inch heels, silk blouse, and pencil skirt. “Be sure to get the garden too. And the entry hall and staircase.”

  I’d already done the entry hall and staircase as soon as we’d arrived. Since she’d been standing right next to me when I’d been taking the pictures, one might think she would have noticed, but I was used to her now. She was good at big-picture thinking for special events, but she invariably got caught up in schmoozing and never bothered much about details.

  That was what I was here for, after all. Handling all the details.

  “Got it,” I said, finishing this side of the room before walking over to join her.

  “We talked about that lighting display out by the pool,” she said, looking through the french doors heading out to the terrace. “So call Chuck about that. And we’ll need to get Michelle to work on the landscaping.”

  “You’ll ask Mr. and Mrs. Gentry first, before we bring someone in to re-landscape their garden, right?”

  “Of course. Of course. Just make sure Michelle is available. She’s the only one who can get it the way I like it. You’ll be all right finishing up in here? I need to go talk to Ken.”