Page 2 of Her Chosen Protector

“I don’t get it, Ash. I don’t understand how his life could have come to that. I just don’t get why he couldn’t have reached out to us. I spoke to him three days before. He kept asking about me. Wanted to know if I was all right. He picked at me to open up. I should have known to turn it around.” Law’s voice was thick with tears. He collapsed on the sagging piece of furniture trying to pass as a sofa, his head in his hands. Ash sat down next to him so he could hear his next whispered words. “It’s a gut punch knowing I failed him.”

He looked up at Asher with a tortured expression.

Asher couldn’t take it a moment longer. He pulled his kid brother into his arms, trying to think of the right words. Words that would exonerate Law. Give him solace. Something that would never be possible for himself.

“Law, you know Xavier. He was strong. He would never have admitted something was wrong.

Our brother never knew how to bend, so the winds just kept coming at him until that day he shattered.

I don’t think he ever saw it coming.”

It took a moment for Ash to understand what Law was saying into his shoulder. Finally, he understood him.

“Yes, Brother, I promise to come to you if the winds ever get too strong. I promise.”

C H A P T E R 1

Asher had made sure to buckle into the jump seat next to Ezio when they’d boarded the plane. The man had just transferred in from the Omega Sky team, and even though there was a lot of hype surrounding him, it still remained to be seen if he could cut it on their Night Storm SEAL team.

Leo Perez was on Asher’s other side. He was reading a worn paperback by Steinbeck. The man would read and re-read a book until the pages fell out during each stint abroad. This time it was Cannery Row, the last mission it had been The Great Santini by Pat Conroy. Asher thought that maybe he should read something; it sure would be better than having all the “what ifs” swirl through his head.

“What do you think of that, Ash?” Cullen Lyons called out from the jump seat directly across from him.

It took a beat for him to respond. Luckily, it was Cullen, so he knew what he needed to say.

“Sounds like a pile of lies to me,” Asher replied. He had no idea what Cullen had said, but that answer was usually a safe bet.

Raiden Sato raised his eyebrow, “There you have it, Nic. Thorne agrees with me—there’s no way that Cullen took the first place trophy in a karaoke contest in the middle of a swamp.”

“I said it was a wet t-shirt karaoke contest. Get the story straight, Raiden.” Cullen griped. “Over two-thirds of the audience were women and they liked what they saw.” Cullen flexed his biceps.

“That, along with my superb singing voice, guaranteed me a win.”

“I’m with Asher; there’s no such thing as a wet t-shirt karaoke contest,” Kane McNamara said, never looking up from his computer tablet.

“Florida,” Cullen said to Kane. “You need to go down to the bars in Florida. They have everything. I had an option to sing with an alligator on a leash. I would have, except the girl who had just gone before me had dibs on him. She decided to take him home. Apparently, her mama and auntie had an alligator breeding program going on at their place and that bull would make fine babies.”

Everybody felt the landing gear lower, which stopped the conversation. That was fine by Asher.

He was absolutely goddamn sure that Cullen would soon be telling them that there had been sparklers shooting out of his ass during his karaoke performance.

All things considered though? Asher had heard Cullen’s singing voice—chances were that he’d won plenty of karaoke contests. But seriously, an alligator?

Asher looked down at the luminous dial of his watch. Oh-one-hundred hours, and they were supposed to meet their transport at oh-four-hundred on the outskirts of Caracas, Venezuela. Kane’s face was illuminated by his tablet; for once he looked satisfied by what he was seeing. That was a nice change. Maybe that meant they’d get more info when they touched down in the middle of El Avila

National Park.

Hopefully, things were looking up for the group of humanitarians they were going into rescue.

When Asher had first heard about the group, he’d been dubious about their motives. Bankers and accountants going into Venezuela to halt the mass exodus of people from the country and maybe, possibly, help them get back on track? Yeah, sure, next he’d hear about purple pigs flying.

But these people from the International Money Fund and the World Bank were the real deal. They had financial aid workers dedicated to lifting up the forgotten and suffering people around the world.

These humanitarian money-types were the people that Ash and his team were going to save.

“Does he ever quit talking?” Ezio Stark asked quietly as he tilted his head toward Cullen.

Asher choked back a laugh as he looked at the new guy’s subtle grin. “When the mission calls for it, he can zip it. Unfortunately, Nic Hale kept switching Cullen’s channels and then lost the remote.