Seth (In the Company of Snipers Book 17) Read online

  Table of Contents

  COPYRIGHT

  IN THE COMPANY OF SNIPERS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Epilogue

  Thank you for reading Seth’s story!

  YOU ARE THE KEY TO THIS BOOK’S SUCCESS!

  About the Author

  SETH

  IN THE COMPANY OF SNIPERS

  Book 17

  IRISH WINTERS

  COPYRIGHT

  Seth; In the Company of Snipers, 17

  Copyright ©2018 by Irish Winters

  All rights reserved

  First Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, dialogues, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Cover design: Kelli Ann Morgan, Inspire Creative Services

  Cover image: Paul Henry Serres Photography, www.paulhenryserres.com

  Cover model: Jérôme

  Interior book design: Bob Houston, eBook Formatting

  Editor: Linda Clarkson, Black Opal Editing and Proofreading

  ISBN Paperback: 978-1-942895-57-2

  ISBN eBook: 978-1-942895-58-9

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018941454

  In the Company of Snipers

  You can find Irish Winters

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  For more information about all my books, click here to visit Irish Winters’ website.

  IN THE COMPANY OF SNIPERS

  This series revolves around former Marine scout sniper, Alex Stewart, and his covert surveillance company, The TEAM, home-based out of Alexandria, Virginia. An obsessive patriot and workaholic, he created the company to give former military snipers like him, a chance at returning to civilian life with a decent job, security, and a future.

  This is not a serial with each book ending at a cliffhanger. In the Company of Snipers is a collection of passionate love stories involving strong women and men who are tough enough to take on the world alone. Each is a stand-alone read, complete in itself.

  Spoiler alert: Every story contains adult scenes including sexual situations (some explicit), language, and violence. I don’t write sweet romance, so be forewarned.

  Book 1, ALEX, reveals how The TEAM came to be, as well as how Alex met Kelsey, how they fell in love and fought all odds to stay together. Each of the following books is a complete romance in itself, where, in the course of an active TEAM operation, one agent comes face to face with his or her demons. The men and women I write about are all patriots and warriors, dealing with what they’ve lived through or mistakes they’ve made.

  It’s my hope that you will come to realize along with my heroes...

  Love changes everything.

  Prologue

  It was a bright sunny day to be high in the sky. Perfect weather for the perfect flight home. After a grueling four-month deployment, this soldier-boy had two weeks of leave coming, and he was damned excited to be back in America. But flying over the patchwork quilt of Ohio’s and Indiana’s farms and fields below couldn’t beat the thrill of his first glimpse of Chicago, standing brash and bold on the western shore of Lake Michigan.

  Home. Seth McCray was nearly home.

  Antsy to be on his feet again and with his family and fiancée, he drummed nervous fingertips on his armrest. Aisle seats at the rear of the plane afforded the barest view of the land that he loved, but he’d seen enough to know he was nearly home.

  Mom had sounded good when he’d last talked with her, damned good and lucky to be alive. Now recovered from a scary bout with melanoma, he couldn’t wait to see her for himself. She’d cry when he’d hug her. Hell, he might tear up, too, but he’d missed her. He’d missed all his family and they’d be waiting for him. The last leg of this journey always seemed like the longest. It dragged. Can’t this jet fly any faster?

  Seth drew in a belly full of air at the mere thought of Katelynn, his beautiful, soon-to-be wife, and the mother of his future children. His very best friend, and the woman he loved with every fiber of his body. Make that adored. His blood burned thinking what he wanted to do with her and to her, once he got her all to himself. Holding back might not be possible once he tasted her sweet lips. God, I love her!

  Coffee caramel, that was what she’d tasted like the last time he’d kissed her. They’d spent their last minutes before his flight at the Starbucks kiosk in the same terminal, sipping coffee from the same paper cup, murmuring encouragement to each other despite their sadness. How could he forget? Katelynn had been in every one of his dreams these last months. Not once had he ended a day without chatting on-line with her or writing her. Yeah. He was one of those guys—a total sap.

  He’d proposed to her on his last ten-day leave, but he couldn’t wait, not one more day to get her in his arms. Mom and Dad would understand. He and Katelynn needed to tie the knot and be quick about it. A man wanted his woman in his bed when he finally made it back to the States, to have and to hold until death they do part. To love. All those things.

  Since his first deployment, Seth had learned more than he’d ever wanted to know about death. With every beat of his heart, he now knew full well that every minute with Katelynn might be his last. Because of that hard lesson, he planned to spend the rest of his time on Earth wisely—with her. Damned if that didn’t get his cock to saluting as if it heard reveille. Down boy. Not yet. Maybe not even during this trip home. She’s a virgin and she’s not ready. She would’ve told me if she was. Wouldn’t she?

  He didn’t know. Seth chewed the inside of his cheek, worried that she hadn’t answered his last email, but that was okay. He’d pressed send just as he’d cleared JFK airspace and lost the signal, heading for O
’Hare. That was hours ago. Forcing an exhale, he stretched his six-foot three frame as much as he could without infringing on other passengers’ space. He was in the land of the free now. Nothing to worry about here in America. Time was on his side.

  At last, the pilot touched down at O’Hare, taxied to their gate, and the Jetway engaged. Out of his seat with his duffel on the floor between his boots, Seth stood in the galley and watched every last one of the other passengers prepare to disembark. Some of them took their dear, sweet time, locating their carry-ons from the overhead compartments, asking others to grab them, chatting. Impatient to be off the jet, he’d already disabled airplane mode and checked all incoming IMs, texts, and emails.

  Katelynn still hadn’t replied, not even with one of her cutesy emojis, so he shot a winking kitten to her. That ought to make her smile.

  Still no response. Had she turned her cell off? Now? Today of all days? His boot set to tapping.

  “Thank you for your service,” the pretty redheaded flight attendant said at his elbow. “I know you guys probably hear that a lot, but I mean it. I wish I could do more for each and every one of you.”

  He nodded as he peered down at her. Folks meant well, but he was forever uncomfortable being thanked for doing his job. “Thank you kindly, ma’am, but don’t worry about it.”

  He hadn’t been drafted like the guys in the 1960s. Those were some shitty days to be Army, and America hadn’t been a friendly place for GI’s to come home to then. He’d seen the old news stories. Vietnam vets had been treated horribly by the press, the know-it-alls and do-nothings in Hollywood, and most college students.

  But things were different now. People respected the men and women who served, and they should, by hell. The Armed Forces—believe it or not—had actually gotten smarter in how they handled their volunteer service members. The five-stars had learned a few things since the debacle called Vietnam. Not enough by a long shot, but they’d wised up. A little.

  A pleasant blush colored her cheeks. “You sound like my brother,” she said as the line ahead of Seth began to move. “He’s a Marine and proud of it.”

  “He should be. Marines work hard, ’course not as hard as Army Rangers,” Seth drawled.

  Her brows lifted. “You must be a Ranger.”

  “Almost. I’m going onto Fort Benning next month to begin Ranger training. Looking forward to it.”

  A bright smile lit her face. “You must enjoy hard work and long marches then.”

  Seth dragged his duffel up from the floor, not wanting to be rude, but needing to get off this jet and his hands on his woman. “Not as much as I like taking the war to the terrorists and keeping it off American soil.”

  There was something about her, something innocent and unabashedly optimistic, that struck Seth. She was a lovely study in reds and browns with those cinnamon sprinkles across her nose, lush, moist lips, and enough positivity in her bright blue eyes to light the moon. Her fist came up as she leveled her knuckles and smacked his bicep playfully, a sure sign she had brothers. “As Cord would say, give ’em hell, soldier boy.”

  “Your older brother?” Seth asked, just to make conversation when the line ahead stalled yet again. For Pete’s sake, people. Exiting a plane isn’t rocket science.

  She gave him a proud smile. “One and only. USMC Lance Corporal Cord Shepherd. You remind me of him.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where’s he stationed?”

  “Twenty-Nine Palms at the moment, but he’ll get orders to deploy soon. Least he’s hoping.”

  “Ah, California. You’re a West Coast girl.”

  “I am, born and raised, but I live in Chicago now. You’re from here?” A wistful tone had crept into her voice.

  “Downers Grove, just east of the city.” Finally. The last few stragglers moved to the front exit. “Take care of yourself, Red,” Seth said by way of goodbye.

  “Same to you,” she told him, her blue eyes bright once more. “I don’t want to see you on the news. No parades or headstones, okay?”

  He sent her a grin over his shoulder. “Promise. See you next time.”

  “Plan on it.”

  Before he disembarked, Seth turned and called to her, “Hey, Red. What’s your handle? You know, your name?”

  The wide smile she volleyed back with was a good way to end this final leg of a long flight. “Devereaux Shepherd,” she called from where she stood at the rear galley, chatting with another attendant. “What’s yours, Ranger Rick?”

  “Sergeant Seth McCray at your service, ma’am.” He tipped two fingers to his forehead and told her, “Catch you on the flip flop.”

  “You take care now!”

  With a cheery wave from his now-favorite flight attendant, Seth left the airliner behind and joined the other passengers filing up the Jetway ramp to the concourse. Making good time, and his heart light with anticipation, Seth passed them all as his long legs ate up the real estate between him and the baggage carousels.

  Katelynn and his folks were waiting. Everyone needed to get out of his way! As usual, O’Hare’s latest renovation ruled every corner. Dodging scaffolding and avoiding the workers and dust, Seth tried not to run, but a man coming home after four long months was a damned anxious man. Move it, people! Move it, move it, move it! Happy soldier on leave coming through!

  He’d just cleared the corner at ground level, when—there they were, Mom and Dad, their backs to him, but a sight to behold nonetheless. His dad’s hair looked a little grayer, but his mom looked real good. She’d survived cancer, and that was something to be proud of.

  Breathlessly, he dropped his duffel, then walked up behind them and grabbed them both around their necks as tears stung his eyes. Nothing ever felt better than this moment right here. Home, damn it. I’m home.

  His mother turned in his arms. “Seth. Oh, Seth. God, I’m… I’m so sorry.” That was Mom, forever apologizing for things out of her control, like the rain or the humidity. Stuff like that.

  “I’m home, Mom,” he told her. “Two weeks. I’ve got two weeks!”

  “Son.” The way his father said that one word, stopped Seth’s heart. Maxwell McCray had an inch on his son, but he seemed smaller today. Diminished.

  Seth’s mouth went dry. He stuck a hand on his dad’s shoulder. “Dad? What?”

  His mother choked a sob, the back of her hand to her mouth. “There’s been an accident, honey. Katelynn and her parents… They were on their way to the airport, but…” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m so sorry. She had everything arranged. She wanted to surprise you. Bethie, her sister was her maid of honor. She’d asked Elliot to be your best man. You know how close you two are, and she thought… she thought…”

  Maid of honor? Best man? Whose wedding was she going to today? Seth cut his mom’s rambling short. Nothing she said made sense anyway. “Mom, where’s Katelynn? She’s supposed to be here.” He glanced over his mom’s shoulder to find his girl’s pretty face in the crowd.

  “Katelynn and her parents were in an accident on their way to the airport,” his father said sadly. “I’m sorry, son, but she’s…” He swiped a hand over his face, swallowed hard and said, “We just got word from Bethie. She was in the vehicle with Katelynn, too. Katelynn’s… Seth, I’m so sorry. Katelynn’s gone.”

  The concourse rocked with that one word.

  Gone…

  Gone…

  Gone…

  And Seth went down.

  Chapter One

  He groaned in his sleep like he had every night since it happened. Once again, the nightmare turned fluid and three-dimensional. Real. He could smell it. He could taste it. The walls of Uncle George’s oceanside shack heaved, holding their breaths as if in anticipation. Even the ceiling had something to say, its groans guttural, almost threatening as it flexed and drooled down on him like a wet-mouthed fiend. Drawing close. Receding. Reminding. Forever reminding…

  Groggy with little sleep, Seth batted the foul monster away. In
its wake, the stench of beer, pizza, cigarette smoke, and sweat spilled like dirty water across a hardwood floor that wasn’t really there. Not in Florida. Yet it ebbed and flowed. Forward and aft. Aft then forward. Always moving.

  Seasickness threatened, yet the nausea was more of whiskey than of nightmare. Too bad that half bottle of Jack he’d commiserated with hadn’t knocked him out cold. He could use a night off.

  Seth drifted, lost in memories he couldn’t avoid, no matter how much he drank or how hard he cried. All the Jack in the world had never kept her from coming back. God knew he’d tried. He just wished his nightly visitor were the woman he loved instead of—her.

  Like always, the dream began in shadowy darkness. It was always too dim and nearly too dark to see beyond the faint glow cast from the amber-bubbled lampshades of Harry’s cheap wall sconces. Groggy and mostly inebriated, Seth squinted though his eyes were closed, struggling to decipher the facts from the fiction of this never-ending dream.

  Moving painfully slow, lighted figures emerged through the murk. Like the night it happened, these memories cast just enough light with just enough shadow to feel believable. Not like it wasn’t hard to fool Seth. No sirree, Bob.

  The noise from the packed beerhouse on Chicago’s south side grated on the number ten migraine hammering inside his aching skull. His finger automatically reached for the scar on his brow. Damn thing itched when bad things happened. That was what made this dream seem real.

  He was there again. Reliving the second most painful moment in his life.

  “We shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled out loud to Elliot, the buddy responsible for Seth being at Harry’s Beerhouse that night. He wasn’t ready to socialize after Katelynn’s funeral. Not so soon. But here he was.

  “’S okay, bro,” Elliot insisted. “You needed a night out. Chill. Have a couple beers. If you’re not feeling it, we’ll leave. I promise, man.”

  Once more Seth relented when he knew damned well he shouldn’t be in any bar. But Elliot, one of those high-energy types, always strumming his fingers, tapping his toes, or bouncing his knee, was Seth’s closest bud. After all they’d been through in high school football together, he was the one who needed the night out. Even now, his bright blue eyes scanned Harry’s backdrop for good-looking women, chin nodding when one walked by their table, whistling under his breath if they passed his standards, which were low. Elliot loved playing the field and playing the game. Flirting. Just being good old Elliot.