BECKETT

  ALPHA COMPANY RENEGADES BOOK 1

  KALI HART

  Beckett is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Kali Hart

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Alpha Company Renegades Series

  Sneak Peek GRIFFIN

  1

  SARA

  I hate these shoes.

  I only wore them because my roommate, Rachel, insisted they were super cute on me. This coming from the cover-model ready girl who would look super cute wearing a paper sack. She told me the lie to get me out the door on time.

  I will never be friends with heels. Never.

  But it’s too late to ditch the damn shoes. I’m stuck at this remote bar’s outdoor concert, all because I can never figure out how to tell her no. She helped me out in a big way when we first met, and she’s not afraid to remind me of that kindness.

  Rachel has her sights set on some guy again, and tonight, she needed me to come as his friend’s date.

  I’m weaving my way through the crowd on these pencil-sticks, wishing I was anywhere else, when the inevitable happens. I stumble. The fruity drink I cradled so carefully in my hand goes sailing through the air. I feel my feet lose contact with the ground, and all I can see is the star-filled sky overhead.

  I wait for the hard splat against the concrete patio to come.

  But it doesn’t.

  Strong arms break my fall, swooping behind my back. It feels like I’m levitating at some slightly-off angle. The cold metal of dog tags dangle between my breasts as a woodsy, masculine scent engulfs me.

  “You okay?” My rescuer’s voice is deep and sexy. My nipples harden to peaks, but it might be those damn dog tags dipping lower into my cleavage causing them to misbehave so rashly. It’s an instant turn-on I never knew I had. I don’t know what the hell is so hot about it, but my panties are wet now, too.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Be careful out here.” He sets me back on my feet, holding me against him. I can’t say I mind. “Patio’s all cracked up.”

  “As if I didn’t have enough trouble walking in these stupid shoes without an obstacle course thrown in.”

  He laughs, low and quiet. But the deep rumble of it vibrates against me. I’m standing up straight again, but he hasn’t let me go. He’s so much taller than me, even in these ridiculous shoes. All I can see from down here is the perfectly sculpted chest muscles beneath his tight shirt. I want to slide my hands up the fabric. Then under.

  “You bring another pair?”

  He nods down to my feet. I try to follow his gaze but end up locked on his deep blue eyes. There might be some damn butterflies in my stomach, and if there are, they’ve hit the bar harder than I have tonight. Because they’re not just tipsy in there, they’re singing-on-the-table drunk. “Nope, just these.”

  “Be careful, okay?”

  “No promises.” Mostly, it’s because I’m a natural born klutz if a beverage is involved. If it can be spilled, odds are I’ll find a way. But partially, it’s because I’m hoping he’ll catch me again if I fall. This tall, insanely sexy soldier is way out of my league. He exudes badassary that makes my panties tingle and burst into flames. But guys like him never go for curvy girls like me. They go for the Rachel’s of the world. “I better get another drink.”

  I slide out of his warm hands, feeling the absence of his heated touch immediately. Regret fills me for running away.

  But I’m supposed to be here with Chad. I’m not too excited about him, and we have nothing in common. Nothing. But I promised Rachel I would be nice to him.

  My eyes trail back to my military hero, and at the moment, I can’t seem to remember why I agreed to the blind date.

  As I make my way back to the bar, I feel the soldier’s eyes searing my back. Is he that worried I’m going to face-plant on the cement? Though my feet ache, that was the first time I nearly rolled an ankle tonight.

  “Is that drink for me?” Rachel coos, taking the fruity blue concoction from my hand when I make it back to them. She gulps half of it down before I can tell her no. So much for unwinding tonight. I spent my last ten on that overpriced refreshment. I hope I can stomach Chad’s company on nothing but water.

  Money’s been incredibly tight for me since my dad got sick. My college fund went for medical bills before I graduated high school, and his small life insurance policy hardly covered his debts and the funeral expenses. A year later, I still haven’t gotten on my own two feet again.

  Which explains why Rachel is still my roommate.

  “We can grab another round of drinks,” Chad suggests. For a minute, I almost like the guy because it’s the nicest thing he’s said all night. I gave up waiting on him to buy me one thirty minutes ago after the opening band came on stage.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  He grabs his buddy—Rachel’s date—and they head back to the bar.

  “You should totally hook up with Chad tonight,” Rachel says to me, her alcohol-laced breath much too close for comfort. We’ve been here an hour, but I think she got a head start before we arrived. The half-empty vodka bottle I saw tossed haphazardly onto her bed while she was finishing up her makeup would support my claim.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, c’mon Sara. He’s not that bad. You could do worse, you know. When’s the last time you got any, huh?”

  It’s the closest thing to a compliment I’m likely to get from her tonight. She’s not great at giving those out. Chad is...okay. Not overly attractive, but not bad to look at either I guess. He does have that Army thing going for him. But it doesn’t hold a candle to my military hero. My eyes scan the crowd for him again, but I can’t spot him

  Plus, I just don’t like the guy. “I’m not sleeping with him.”

  Rachel rolls her eyes at me. “Stop being such a stick in the mud, Sara.”

  BECKETT

  I’m not thrilled to discover that the breathtaking beauty that landed in my arms minutes ago is here with Specialist Brown.

  He’s one of mine, and one of the reasons I came out tonight. I have a couple of soldiers playing in the lead band and knew a bunch of the guys would show up to support them. Along with my buddy Griffin, we came to lurk in the background and make sure no one gets into too much trouble.

  We take care of our own.

  I’ve got my eye glued to Brown’s every move. I don’t trust him. Not with her.

  He could be a good soldier if he wanted to be. But lately, he seems set on rebelling.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous. That woman is...everything. A curvy beauty with a witty sense of humor. Her fiery red waves of hair felt like silk beneath my fingers when she landed in my arms. Her perfect hour-glass figure gives those skinny jeans curves I wish no one else could see but me. She’s a goddess, and a lot of people have taken notice.

  So why Brown is the lucky one, I can’t guess.

  When I caught her, I almost couldn’t form words. She took my breath away. The only thought that went through my mind was I have to have her.

  Now I’m forced to watch her on a date with someone else. Just fucking great that it turns out to be Brown. This night is going to be hell.

  At my two o’clock, I watch the pencil-thin girl that must be her friend swipe the replaced drink for herself, oblivious to the stunned expression my beauty wears. Part of my special military training has required me to read people and conversations, and I can tell that this girl thinks she’s in charge.

  Brown and Anderson leave the two women and head to the bar. If they’ve spotted me, they haven’t acknowledged it yet.

  Most soldiers don’t recognize me—or Griffin—like this. That’s how we prefer it. I’m wearing a ball cap to hide my face, and I’ve shoved my dog tags back down the front of my shirt where they belong. My dick twitches at the memory of them dangling between her tits.

  I step back into the shadowy corner. I’m not here to be noticed.

  Griffin nods to me across the bar, just to let me know he’s got my back if I need it. He’s like a brother to me. We’ve been to war together, and we’ve fought through hell side by side. He’s normally bouncing at a bar on Saturday nights, but he had the night off and offered to come out with me this time.

  I watch my beauty’s face fall from something her friend said against her ear and wonder what was suggested to her. My fists clench at my sides, hoping it’s not some encouragement toward Brown. He doesn’t need it. But my skills tell me that’s exactly what it is.

  Certain the two jackoffs are up to no good, I slink my way to the bar until I’m close enough to hear their conversation.

  “Rachel’s all over me, man,” Anderson says to Brow

n. I keep my shoulder sharply turned away so they won’t recognize me. But I can hear them clearly, despite the band playing another number. “I’m getting laid tonight.”

  “Me too,” Brown says.

  My muscles go rigid. No way she really wants to go home with Brown. I don’t believe it. He tries to pick up a new girl every weekend if the rumors are true. Normally I don’t pay much attention to idol gossip, but that little detail seems more important right now.

  “No way. She doesn’t even like you, man.”

  No, she doesn’t.

  “I bet you a hundred dollars I get her to spread her legs for me tonight.”

  The instinct to grab Brown by the throat and hoist him up the wall until his feet dangle in the air overcomes me. But I don’t act on that impulse. I’m a soldier first. A professional in the public eye. I’m here to keep everyone out of trouble, not cause it.

  “Get ready to lose your ass,” Anderson says to him.

  “I’m about to turn my charm on, and once she’s nice and drunk, she won’t say no.”

  I decide in that moment that there’s no way in hell she’s leaving here with him. Because if he does, I may get demoted for my actions. I’m sickened by the piece of shit. But it’s not to worry. My beauty will be safe—I’ll see to it—and Brown will suffer Monday. I just haven’t decided if it’ll be PT or waxing floors of the command hallway after hours. Maybe it’ll be both.

  “You really want to get with her? Sara’s…” Anderson says.

  Don’t you dare fucking say it.

  “…bigger.”

  “For a hundred bucks I will.”

  The two grab their drinks and disappear back into the crowd, leaving me fuming. I’m laser-focused on Brown’s every move now, like a hawk after its prey. The second he makes her uncomfortable or tries to leave with her, I’m stepping out of the shadows and intervening. My cover be damned.

  Abandoning the bar for a drink I was never going to order, I make a vow to protect her from that pathetic excuse for a soldier at all costs.

  2

  SARA

  The main band is playing now, but the night is not going by fast enough. Top it off that there’s no trace of my military rescuer, and I’m over this place. I just want to crawl into my bed—even if it is a worn-out futon.

  I don’t really enjoy these kinds of things—well, at least the bar scene anyway. But Rachel found me sleeping in my car when I first moved to town and offered me a room for rent when no one else would. It’s why I don’t complain about the futon.

  I thought it meant she would be a good friend.

  Turns out, she holds that over my head every time I try to say no to some outing or double date. She did it again tonight.

  But to be fair, I’m a week late on my part of the rent. This was her way of not guilt-tripping me about that and giving me another few days to come up with what I owe. I hate feeling like I’m so far behind on life, but it’s been a hard year without my dad.

  I’ve tried waitressing and being a barista, but with my clumsiness, those jobs didn’t last very long. I really am a nightmare when it comes to spilling beverages. But I have a job interview on Monday for something safer, and for the first time in a while, I’m hopeful.

  But all that still leaves me, standing here alone in these damn shoes. My feet are screaming for mercy, but no way I’m walking barefoot in this place.

  Well, I’m not alone.

  There is Chad. He keeps putting his hand on my arm when he says something, no matter how many times I shake it off. If he tries once more, I’m going to threaten to break his fingers. I don’t exactly know how, but I think I’ve seen enough movies to figure it out.

  “I’m going to use the restroom,” I tell him before he can try to touch me again. I’m hoping Rachel might be hiding in there, but she’s probably in the backseat of a car with her date. Sadly, it’s a pattern. One she’s proud of.

  All night I’ve wondered what happened to my military man.

  The only theory I can come up with is that he left. Though it’s an outdoor venue, it’s the fenced-in beer garden. The only way in or out is through the bar inside. I’ve haven’t seen him outside, and when I go inside to find the restroom, I don’t see him either.

  I don’t know why it matters. He’ll be in every one of my fantasies tonight, and I doubt he’ll even remember me tomorrow. I’m just some clumsy girl he saved from cracking her head open on the cement.

  I hide in the restroom for as long as I can get away with, though I have to admit it’s not exactly a fun place to be. The overwhelming smells and mobs of emotional girls are still preferable to Chad’s company, though.

  I wonder if Rachel would be pissed if I called an Uber and left now. She’s already getting hot and heavy with her date. I don’t know why it would matter. I could fake a stomachache, and since I can’t find her anyway, just leave. She might go home with that guy—also a pattern—but she’s never twisted my arm to come along when things get to that point.

  Because there’s no cell service in this rank bathroom, I’ll need to step outside the front door to contact an Uber. I’m going home. But I’ve only made it two steps from the bathroom when Chad steps into my path and backs me into a corner. “Hey, babe. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Wanna get outta here?”

  “Not with you.”

  “Oh, c’mon, baby.” He takes another step closer. “I know you want some of this.”

  I try not to laugh, you know, just to be a decent human being. But I can’t hold it in. “No, I really don’t.”

  Chad leans in, his hand against the wall. Whiskey laces his breath and it makes me want to gag. “You’re coming home with me, babe.” He goes in for a kiss, and I don’t even have time to threaten to break his fingers as he reaches for my neck. I do the only thing I still can—I palm the bottom of his drink cup until he’s wearing it.

  A string of obscenities follow, but he’s at least startled enough to take a couple of steps back. For once, my drink-spilling tendencies worked in my favor.

  “You bit—”

  “Is there a problem here?” My military rescuer is standing behind Chad, towering over him by at least half a foot. Damn, that man of steel is tall. My panties burst into flames. Again. Surely there’s nothing left down there but a few ashes.

  “Get lost,” Chad says, without the wise decision to actually look at the person talking to him.

  “Specialist Brown, I assume you’re not looking for any trouble tonight.”

  Chad’s eyes grow to three times their normal size. Apparently, these two know each other. I remember Rachel saying something about our dates being military. But in this town, that’s pretty common. There’s an Army base nearby, and a lot of them come and go.

  “I was just leaving,” I say to Chad with narrowed eyes. I wish they could shoot daggers of fire, if only for my own enjoyment. I’m so done putting up with my roommate’s demands. I’m through having her dangle her kindness as a way to get me to do whatever she wants.

  I’m done with double dating the Chads of the world.

  Tonight, I’m moving out.

  BECKETT

  Sara slides around Brown and heads for the door. I’m torn between giving Brown a piece of my mind and making sure Sara doesn’t run into any trouble outside. Brown isn’t the only drunk asshole here tonight.

  “Sergeant Beckett,” says Brown, “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “You weren’t supposed to know.” I don’t tell him I’m not alone, either. Griffin is still here, too. We work in pairs when he’s not bouncing at the bar. But it works best if none of our soldiers expect us to be around. We don’t want to smother them, just keep them from doing anything too stupid. “You ready to call yourself a cab?”

  His eyes are darting around me, looking for his buddy no doubt. “I can’t leave Anderson.”

  “He left you.”

  “What?”

 

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