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Guarding Gabi - Kathy Ivan
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Guarding Gabi (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)
Cajun Connection Book 4
Kathy Ivan
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
© 2019 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.
Dear Readers,
Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!
If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.
This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.
I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!
READ ON!
Xoxo
Susan Stoker
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
A note from the Author
About the Author
Books By Kathy Ivan
More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books
Books by Susan Stoker
About the book
Gabi Boudreau’s life turns upside down when her best friend shows up on her doorstep, pleading for help. A plan is hatched—a secret shared. When someone begins stalking Gabi, like it or not there’s only one man who can help her.
Dylan Roberts owes Carpenter Security Services a favor. When his marker is called in, Dylan heads to New Orleans. He never imagined he’d be playing bodyguard to Gabi Boudreau, or that his attraction to her might create a dangerous distraction.
In a manipulative game of cat and mouse, can they prevail or will the evil stalking them win?
Dedication
To Susan Stoker for allowing me to once again play around in her world, and allow my Cajun Boudreaus and her Special Forces and Badge of Honor alpha heroes to come together in Guarding Gabi. Although Gabi Boudreau is the last of the New Orleans Boudreaus, don’t worry, there’s another whole branch of Boudreaus in Shiloh Springs, Texas, just itching to have their stories told.
And to the amazing readers who are part of the Susan Stoker Special Forces Fan Page. Wow, you are all so great! I have a blast chatting and getting to know you. You’re support of my books has been amazing and something I treasure! You’re the best!
Thanks also to Drue Hoffman for creating and designing the beautiful cover for Guarding Gabi.
Thank you to Teresa Watson, who dropped everything to do the edits for Gabi’s book. On short notice, she polished the story, gave me great feedback, and generally made it a much better story. You did an awesome job!
1
He’d lost his mind.
What other explanation could there possibly be for him being back in the States? Not only stateside, but in New Orleans? Hell, who wanted to be in New Orleans when it wasn’t even Mardi Gras?
He hadn’t planned on coming back to the U.S. for another year at least. Costa Rica had become home since he’d left the Navy behind, and he pretty much enjoyed everything about his new life there.
Louis Armstrong International Airport teamed with more people than he’d normally see in six months back in his Central American paradise, and this hive of activity made him twitchy as hell. His palms were coated with a film of sweat, feeling like a thousand eyes boring into him, leaving him raw and exposed.
Damn Samuel Carpenter and his ambiguous phone call. If it wasn’t for Carpenter, he’d be kicked back, lounging in a hammock behind his house, doing nothing more strenuous than lifting a beer to his lips. But after the near fiasco with Gareth Prescott during the past summer, he felt like he owed the other man. Carpenter’s timely intervention saved him from tearing the bastard’s head clean off his shoulders, though admittedly it had been a close call. One look at Prescott’s smirking face as Carpenter’s team led him out through the villa’s front doors, and he’d snapped.
Through a sea of black, he vaguely remembered wrapping his hands around Prescott’s neck and squeezing. Did it make him a monster to admit he’d felt a sense of satisfaction at the look of terror on the other man’s face as he faced his own mortality? Carpenter’s words echoed in his ears, promising Prescott wouldn’t see the outside of a prison for the rest of his natural life. Some primal gut instinct forced him to trust the man, though they’d never met before that fateful day. Still, there were days when he questioned if he’d made the right decision in letting Prescott live.
Dylan didn’t trust the American judicial system to keep Prescott’s ass behind bars, as evidenced by the bastard being in Costa Rica in the first place. Luckily, the sick, perverted monster once again called a Super-Max facility home, his lucky hide behind bars, where he’d hopefully find himself unable to control people or terrorize women ever again. Prescott got out once, and part of him didn’t believe anybody could one hundred percent guarantee he wouldn’t escape a second time. Yet something about Carpenter’s certainty swayed him, and he’d released his stranglehold on Prescott’s neck, and let Carpenter Security lead him away.
Let Carpenter throw his millions at the problem of keeping Prescott incarcerated. I have to let it go or thinking about the bastard will drive me insane.
So, here he stood, waiting for a driver to take him to the offices of Carpenter Security Services, in response to Carpenter’s phone call. He hoped whatever the hell the other man needed wouldn’t take long. Maybe he’d get to enjoy a couple of days in the French Quarter before heading to Southern California. He’d promised Ice, Wolf Steel’s wife, he’d visit the next time he ended up stateside. Thinking about the woman curved his lips upward in a tender smile. Wolf’s little lady was a stubborn one, and he didn’t want to find himself on her bad side. Plus, he wouldn’t mind seeing the Riverton SEAL team again. Catch up on old times.
“Roberts, good to see you.”
Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed Etienne Boudreau until the man stepped directly in front of him. Dylan shook Etienne’s outstretched hand, glad to see the worry and tension from the last time he’d seen Boudreau erased from his face. “Ready to go?”
Picking up the duffle at his feet, he gave a sharp nod. “Lead the way.”
It took several minutes to walk from the
terminal to where Boudreau’d parked. He slung his bag onto the back seat of the black SUV and climbed onto the passenger seat. Gridlocked traffic snarled bumper-to-bumper exiting the airport, along with what seemed like never-ending construction. It seemed to take an eternity before they left it behind in the rearview mirror, and he finally relaxed against the seat back.
“Any idea why Carpenter needs me in New Orleans?”
A long, drawn-out silence greeted his question, and alarm bells blared inside his head. Though he didn’t know Etienne Boudreau well, having only worked one rescue with him, it wasn’t like the man to withhold information. Dylan was a patient man though, having had that attribute drilled into him through years as a Navy SEAL. After what seemed an interminable wait, Etienne huffed out a sigh.
“Yeah, I know what it’s about. And it’s pissing me off.” After a quick glance in the mirror, Boudreau changed lanes with a smoothness and efficiency Dylan admired. The guy had more patience behind the wheel than him. Driving in Costa Rica consisted of a completely different set of road rules than driving the streets of a big city like New Orleans. Back home, he could drive miles without ever seeing another car. The biggest problem he faced was the occasional goat crossing the rutted path near his house or a monkey dive bombing his windshield. Watching these morons behind the wheel made him miss his isolated bungalow in the jungle, where his nearest neighbor was an iguana.
“And…”
“It’s complicated. Personal, as in family. I’ve been told I’m too close to the situation, so I’ve been benched. Hell, all of us have.” Boudreau’s eyes left the road, and met Dylan’s. “We don’t know each other well, but I trust you, or I wouldn’t have suggested the big man call you in.”
The sound of Boudreau’s fist slamming against the steering wheel broke their stare down. He couldn’t help reading the anger and anguish in the other man’s eyes though, which told him whatever Carpenter called him in for was more than a simple case, at least to Etienne. Curiosity piqued, he leaned back against the seat, and studied his surroundings as they weaved in and out of traffic.
“I could use a little more info, Boudreau.”
“Samuel wants to brief you on the case personally. What a crock! Dammit, we’re talking about my baby sister, not some stranger off the street.” Boudreau blew out a long breath, hands clenched around the steering wheel until his knuckles shone white. There was a not-so-subtle shift in the air, anger radiating off the other man in almost visible waves.
“I forgot you have a sister. She’s in trouble?”
“Depends who you’re talking to. You ask her, she’d say we’re blowing things out of proportion.”
Dylan chose his words carefully. “But you’re not buying it?”
“No. Neither is anybody else at Carpenter Security.”
“Gotcha.” He stretched his legs out, uncomfortable after the long flight. Confined spaces like airplanes had a tendency to bring back bad memories, and now sitting in a car—he’d much rather be walking or running, expending all his pent-up energy. “We headed to the office now?”
Etienne shook his head, glancing in the rearview mirror and changing lanes. “No. We’re going to meet at my dad’s house.” He paused for a moment. “Less chance of being interrupted there. Plus, it’s remote…and private.”
Dylan pondered the implication of the other’s words. Sounded all super-secret and on the down low. He didn’t need intrigue or spy stuff. He’d had enough subterfuge to last a lifetime. But he’d play along—for now. He owed Carpenter, and Dylan Roberts always paid his debts.
“Your dad’s Gator Boudreau.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement of fact. He’d heard an earful about the man from Ranger Boudreau, back when they’d both served together in the Navy. They’d worked a couple of jobs, part of their SEAL experience, though they’d been on different teams. Apparently Gator Boudreau was some kind of local legend. Ranger had told him the people of New Orleans treated Gator like he walked on water.
“Yeah, and let me tell you, we’re damned lucky he’s out of the country right now. If he even caught a whisper Gabi was in trouble…well, let’s just say Hurricane Katrina would seem tame in comparison.”
Dylan chuckled at the description. “Tell me about Gabi.”
A tender, thoughtful expression crossed Etienne’s face. It was clear by the light in his gaze he adored his baby sister. He’d seen the same affectionate look on Ranger’s face when he’d spoken about her.
“She’s the youngest, of course. Only girl in a passel of boys, so she grew up part tomboy and part pampered princess. She can outrun, outshoot, and out fish just about anybody in the parish. Or she used to, until she went to college. Could cuss like a longshoreman down on the Mississippi docks, although she’s pretty much cleaned up part of her act. She attended Tulane. Took some time off with one of her friends and traveled throughout Europe.”
“What makes you feel like she’s in trouble?”
Etienne sighed. “It probably should wait until we get to the meeting. Besides, I’ve been pretty much kept in the dark about everything, so I’m probably not the guy to be giving you the facts. I know something or somebody has been bothering her, and I’m going to find out who it is and end it.”
They rode in relative silence the rest of the way, finally pulling down a long driveway to a one-story house, situated at the edge of a lake. A boat dock extended past the side yard, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off the water in an enticing shimmer. It was almost hypnotic, and Dylan wondered if there’d be time to do a little fishing before he headed to California. A few vehicles were parked on the asphalt drive, and several men occupied the wooden deck connected to the house. Dylan recognized Samuel Carpenter right away, talking with another man he recognized. Ranger Boudreau.
Carpenter glanced up, a hand shading his eyes as he watched him and Etienne head toward them. Crossing the grass, he stepped onto the deck.
“Roberts, good to see you.”
“You too.” He nodded to another man who bore a strong family resemblance to the other two Boudreau men. Must be Jean-Luc, the one Boudreau brother he hadn’t met. Looked like all the brothers were here except Sebastian, who Dylan knew as Bas. “Wanna tell me what so important you dragged me all the way from Costa Rica?”
Carpenter waved toward an ice-filled cooler on the deck. “Why don’t you grab a beer, and make yourself comfortable? I’m waiting for one more person to get here, and we’ll get started. I only want to explain things once, and this might take a while.”
Dylan shrugged and strode over to the cooler, and grabbed two beers, handing one to Etienne. Leaning against the deck’s railing, he watched the gentle waves lap against the dock, half-listening to the conversations around him. He had met all the men gathered on the deck when they’d come to Costa Rica, riding to the rescue of one of Carpenter’s employees, Stephanie Barnes. Turned out, Stephanie was the love of Etienne’s life, but neither would admit it until she’d been kidnapped by her crazy ex, and Etienne dropped everything and came to save her, along with Dylan and half of Carpenter’s crazy crew. Looking at each man present, the only one missing was Gunner.
The growl of an approaching engine could be heard, followed by the appearance of a low-slung bright red sports car. It squealed to a stop at the end of the drive, and Dylan gave a half smile when his guess was correct and Wilson “Gunner” Everett climbed from the driver’s seat.
“Great, everybody’s here.” Carpenter nodded to Gunner, and motioned toward the cooler.
“Finally gonna tell me what the hell is going on?” An edge of bitterness tinged Etienne’s voice, and Dylan felt pretty sure his friend wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Cool your jets, dude.” Gunner popped the top on his beer and took a long drink.
“If it was business-related, we’d be having this meeting in the office,” Nathan chimed in. “Which means it’s personal. And judging from the fact none of the women-folk were invited to this little tête-à-t�
�te, I tend to think it’s about one of them.”
“Astute as always, Nate.” Carpenter moved to stand at the head of the deck, his bearing tall and straight, expression grim. “We need to talk about Gabi.”
“She hasn’t mentioned any problems since she’s been home.” Jean-Luc looked at each of his brothers, who all shrugged.
“She didn’t say anything, but Andrea mentioned Gabi was getting a lot of calls she didn’t answer. Like she’d look at the caller ID, get really pale, and decline the call. After her suspicious behavior continued for several days, Andrea finally mentioned it to me. I had Stefan check her phone and these calls have been coming in for weeks.”
“She gave you her phone?” At Carpenter’s stare, Etienne chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Good old Stefan did his wizardly magic, and Gabi doesn’t have a clue her privacy has been compromised, right?”
“Dude, let’s just listen to the boss, and find out what’s happening with your sister before pointing any fingers, ‘kay?” Gunner leaned back in his chair, and propped his feet up on the edge of the cooler. “We all love Gabi, and if somebody’s giving her a hard time, well then, said particular somebody might be getting a few visitors in the middle of the night. To adjust his attitude, you get me?”