Dixie Under Siege (A Warrior's Passion #2) - Natasza Waters Page 0,14

fork was halfway to her lips when she stalled and eyed him, then lowered her cutlery. “I have my business. Long hours. You offered to help catch my stalker. There’s no strings attached to this arrangement, Josh.”

“Nobody said anything about strings.”

He concentrated on the food instead of her gentle dismissal. After all this time, he had to question the ravenous desire that swirled to life when he’d seen her again.

He’d done his fair share of jumping from bed to bed in his twenties. The last three years in Little Creek he’d been with the same woman. Gorgeous. Intelligent. A commissioned officer in the Navy. The arrangement worked for both of them. Josh enjoyed her company when they’d happened to be in town at the same time. Once notified of his new command appointment at NAB, he’d asked Gesem, short for Gethsemane, to join him out west. She’d been offered a post as a captain, an opportunity she’d been waiting for, so they’d parted ways.

After a few minutes of silence while he and Dix ate their dinner, he glanced across the small table to see her watching him.

“How are your parents?” she asked.

He lifted one shoulder. “Getting older. Surrounded by grandkids.”

“Do you have children?”

He nearly choked on a chunk of bok choy. “Until recently, I was gone nine months of the year. Deployments. Missions. Not exactly father material.”

Dix sat back against her chair. “Lots of you Navy Special Operators have families.”

He raised a brow. “How would you know that?”

A crease formed on her forehead. “Ever heard of the internet? Plenty of information on it.”

“Plenty of bullshit, too.”

She sighed. “True.” Dix pushed her plate aside and folded her hands on the table. “It’s hard to believe you didn’t marry.”

“Look who’s talkin’,” he fired back.

Dix shrugged, then piled their plates. “Didn’t really stick around in one place to…”

A thunk and bloodcurdling scream had him on his feet, headed toward the front door. When he heard the chair’s legs scuff over the floor tiles, he ordered, “Stay there.”

Josh kept to the wall and lowered his profile. When he reached the living room, he turned off the lights and approached the right side of the curtain, shifting the fabric to look outside. No movement. Could be two cats fighting, but the yowl sounded more like agony. Shifting his position to the front door, he grabbed the knob, but paused.

“For the love of God, Josh, this isn’t the Middle East. Open the door.”

Dix had snuck up and stood right behind him. “Did I not tell you to wait in the kitchen?”

She scoffed at his rebuke. He twisted the knob and slowly pulled the front door open. It didn’t take much to see what had caused the cat’s distress.

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” Dix hissed.

An orange tabby hung from the door, a blade driven through its chest and into the wood. There was also another note.

Chapter Four

Blood soaked the tabby’s orange and white fur where Dixie’s stalker had impaled the poor animal. Josh leaned closer to read the note.

Send him away.

“That’s my neighbor’s cat.” Dixie took a step back. “Take it down. I’ll bury it in the backyard.”

Dix grew up on a ranch, like him. Both their families raised livestock. Living off the land meant kids learned about life and death at an early age. Regardless that this was a decisive act of violence, Josh was impressed that she didn’t lose her mind.

With a tug, he withdrew the knife and cradled the cat in the crook of his left arm. Dixie removed the note. Where the knife had penetrated the white paper, blood turned the sheet into a morbid inkblot.

A shudder of a memory replaced the feline with the bloody body of a little girl, no more than five years old.

A village in the Sar-e-Pul Province. He’d been a lieutenant of SEAL Team 6 Red Squad then. The Taliban had swept through with a merciless attack, murdering women and children. Beheading the men. His squad had arrived on scene too late to save the locals. They’d combed the adobe buildings, but the militants had already fled. His comm man received orders from their commander to depart. Josh had disobeyed. Delayed their exfil. Instead, he ordered his men to bury the dead.

He had cradled the dead child in his arm until the squad’s sniper dug a hole in the parched earth. She had no mother or father to grieve for her. They’d also died a violent death. Josh knelt and placed the girl into the sand and gravel grave, then