Captured Within, Mendocino Series: Book Four

By Donetta Marie

There are only three reasons Alex Larsen fought to stay alive in his captivity: revenge for the murder of his wife, to hold his children in his arms again, and to find the mole in the naval department who set him up to be captured in Colombia, South America.

Once Alex escapes his imprisonment in Colombia, he quietly returns home to Mendocino, California to a family who thought he was dead.

As Alex regains his strength, during the day he focuses on building a new, safe life for his children. At night, he helps his friend Jon continue the mole investigation. He struggles with PTSD and wants to control everything in his environment.

Alex wasn’t expecting a woman to enter his life or even pique his interest, but the stunning Elsie Strand is too irresistible. A lingering fear haunts her eyes, triggering his protective, dominant side.

The more Elsie and Alex spend time together, the more undeniable their sexual attraction is. But Alex learns Elsie is somehow connected to his investigation. How can he get Elsie to trust him enough to help with the investigation when she went to such great lengths to keep her daughter and herself hidden and safe?

As pieces of the investigation begin to come together, the stakes are raised ever higher. Alex will do anything to keep his children, Elsie, and her daughter safe.

The hunt is on to find the mole, and Alex won’t stop until he’s dead.

Note: This book contains adult themes and situations that are intended for readers 18 and older. These themes and situations could include, but are not limited to, violence, assault, vulgar language, and explicit sexual encounters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donetta Marie
• Release date: Jul 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463335666

Donetta Marie

Donetta Marie grew up in Paradise, a small town in Northern California, in the foothills of the Sierra Mountains. You may know it as the Campfire that destroyed 90% of the town from a wildfire caused by PG&Es faulty powerlines. She currently reside in Washington, DC. She graduated with Honors from Grand Canyon University with a Bachelors degree in Secondary Education in Social Studies. Her main passion of studies is anything related to Geography.When Donetta is not writing, she loves to read, watch movies, swim, shop at framers markets, and travel (including a book in one hand and rum drink in the other). And she enjoys good food, coffee, wine, conversation with close friends, and snuggling next to someone special by a warm fire.

Book preview

Captured Within

Donetta Marie

Captured Within: The Mendocino Series, Book 4

Written by: Donetta Marie

Copyright © 2020 Donetta Marie

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, names, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any events, locations, or persons, alive or otherwise, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and remains the copyrighted property of the author. Please do not redistribute this book for either commercial or non-commercial use. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Note: This book contains adult themes and situations that are intended for readers 18 and older. These themes and situations could include, but are not limited to, extreme violence, assault, vulgar language, and explicit sexual encounters.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Prologue

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

About the Author

Dedication

This book is a special dedication to my father, Gale R. Jensen. He has always loved, supported, and encouraged me to follow my dreams. Without his guidance through hard and happy times, I would be lost in this sometimes chaotic world we live in. He is not only my father, but he is also a United States Marine who fought in the Korean War—a hero. So my father’s insights, thoughts, and suggestions about Alex’s and Elsie’s story were most helpful. Yes, my father has read their romance! I love you, Dad.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my critique group for their tremendous support. They have kept me on my toes and are constantly encouraging me to keep pushing forward with my writing.

Thank you to my beta readers, Rebecca Morman and Kristen B. You ladies are awesome.

A special thank you to my fabulous writing partner, Laurel Anne Raven, who has weathered the good times and the bad with me with lots of laughter and sometimes a few tears. Hugs, woman. You have no idea how much I appreciate you.

Also, thank you to Steve Novak for your boundless patience when it comes to designing my book covers. I really do value your artistic talent.

And to my awesome copy editor and proofreader, Joyce Mochrie, owner of One Last Look. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for making my stories shine.

Prologue

Alex’s clammy, bandaged hand clenched his injured thigh, the pain making him wince. It would take some time before his gunshot wound fully healed. From the back seat of the SUV, he pressed the button, rolling down the window beside him, and took his time inhaling Mendocino Coast’s crisp, salty, afternoon air. Jon was driving him to his family. Vast rows of grapevines passed by, gradually changing into rows of coca plants shaded with plantain trees, instantly transporting his mind to the Colombian landscape.

He sucked in a deep breath, rapidly blinked the plants from his sight, and refocused on the rows of vines overflowing with dark-purple grapes. He leaned out the window and gulped in the cool air, clearing his head, bringing him back to this new reality. God, would he ever get the coca plantation out of his mind?

Damn. He’d missed the Northern California Coast weather—warm during the day and cool at night. It was good to be in familiar territory, instead of humid, tropical heat with lush greenery everywhere and bugs as large as his hand. He really hated bugs now, after living with the kind that hid in the recesses of your mattress and climbed on. . . . He’d searched his bed every night to remove mean, fucking spiders, scorpions, or disgusting cockroaches to the point where he finally gave up sleeping naked and wore his clothes to bed to somewhat protect himself from being bitten or stung. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and could feel them crawling on his skin. He shivered just thinking about it.

He couldn’t wait to sleep naked, a luxury he’d never again take for granted—ever.

Jon passed the turn into Mendocino Village where his family’s Sweet Alyssa’s B&B was located. Alex asked, Jon, where are we going?

To Lily’s new home.

My sister lives in Chicago.

Lily hasn’t lived there for over three years. She’s married now.

What?

She’ll explain. Jon pointed to a sign along the road—Belmont Vineyards. Not sure if you remember, but that’s Rick and Amy’s home. Lily lived there for a while with your kids until she settled down in her new place.

Lily had guardianship of his children since his wife, Lisa’s, death—murder—a year into his captivity. When he is strong again, he’d find the man responsible for taking Lisa’s life. It didn’t matter that they’d been heading toward an amicable divorce before his fateful mission, still best friends. She was the mother of his children, his high school sweetheart. Lisa didn’t deserve to have her life snuffed out because of the decisions he’d made.

A man took Lisa’s life. He’d never forget the day they made him watch the video of Lisa being killed while he was chained like an animal to a cinder-block wall above the headboard of a bed. And he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it, only watch in horror as the video feed kept rolling until a man pulled back her hair from her face, covered in blood. It was another reason he fought to stay alive.

Lisa’s murder haunted him—still—even after three years had passed. Revenge was a powerful incentive to fight through to live another day because one day, once he escaped from his captivity from hell, a hell of sweltering heat and a bug-infested shithole, he’d find the man and kill him . . . very slowly.

Alex wanted to take the man out into the desolate desert and leave him there, bloody, beaten. No water. No protection from the scorching sun. And watch while the man died, begging for his life, and then desiccate to dust, becoming nothing. No. No. That’s not what he truly desired. What he sought was to wrap his hands around the neck of the man who took Lisa’s life, and slowly, little by little, squeeze the life out of him. Make him hurt. Make him beg. Make him bleed. And he would relish every second of it as the man grappled for air, knowing full well it was he who was taking the man’s life.

Alex sucked in a deep breath and ever so slowly exhaled his anger. He needed to control his emotions to regain his razor-sharp focus and rehone his SEAL skills in preparation for the long overdue fight. But first, he desperately needed his kids in his arms again and to see the rest of his family. He’d missed them so much.

Jon turned off the main road onto a long, gravel drive. The sign at the entrance read Preston’s Horse Ranch.

Didn’t old George own this ranch? Alex asked.

Yes, he sold it to a friend of ours.

In the distance, he saw a huge home with expansive stables to the left. All new. Wow. Nothing looked the same. Whoever Lily’s husband was, he had plunked down a lot of money to rebuild this place and expand it. A massive, well-groomed estate lay before him. He shook his head in amazement. Lily lived here? She was married?

Alex sat in the back seat of the SUV to accommodate his long legs. He stretched them out again to get relief from the dull ache of the shot in his left leg.

Jon hadn’t told him much about his family—only that everyone was fine and anxious for him to come home. To be honest, they hadn’t had much time to talk. The focus had been to get the hell out of Colombia—quietly—with no one in the naval department aware of it. That much Jon had explained before he passed out on the plane ride home. When he came to, he was in a secluded cabin north of San Francisco, lying low. It gave him time to recover some strength. The only thing they talked about was who in the high ranks of the navy might be the traitor.

This morning, he woke from Jon gently nudging him in the shoulder and explained, I’m going to dress your wound. This may hurt a bit. He was still weak from the loss of blood. The skin was red with a bit of dark purple surrounding the once hole now stitched up by Jon, which was healing nicely. Once it was wrapped in clean gauze, he ate a small but nourishing breakfast. Then they climbed into an SUV and started driving north on Highway One to his hometown.

Jon. My brothers and sisters . . . my kids . . . do they know I’m alive, or do they think I’m still dead?

Your siblings found out a few months ago that you’re alive. Your kids? I don’t know if they were told or not.

Jesus. So they thought I was dead for three and a half years.

Alex’s jaw tightened, his cheek muscle ticking. The man responsible for his capture who set him up, tricked him, and murdered Lisa—someone in brass—the man he’d been looking for in his undercover investigation before his imprisonment . . . was a mole. A man who’d turned traitor to his country, leaking information of covert ops, a man who let SEALs walk into traps and die. And for what? He didn’t know but he would find out. Jon would make sure he knew since his friend had taken over the navy mole investigation upon his supposed death.

Alex, your siblings . . . they knew that you might not make it through the rescue extraction alive. They’ve no idea we made it out of Colombia and are arriving today. Didn’t want to get their hopes up, and the less they knew the safer they were.

Alex regarded Jon through the rearview mirror and nodded his understanding, but it didn’t sit well with him. His family, his children, thought he was dead for too long. The time was at hand to change that.

Jon said, Alex, there’s something I didn’t tell you.

What?

Ben helped organize your rescue. He paid the entire cost to be sure you were brought home safely.

Ben? My best friend? He choked. Ben? Ben Worthington? He’s alive?

Yes. Ben didn’t reenlist after what happened on the beach in Cartagena. He thought you were dead, walked away from the SEALs. It was hard on him. Messed him up for a while.

The air whooshed out of his lungs. Shit. Ben is going to be pissed when I tell him. . . . He stopped himself, realizing what he almost said. He’d always wondered if Ben made it out alive. What happened on that beach was chaotic, a gunfight—but necessary, or so he thought at the time.

Damn. He had a lot of explaining to do. And if Ben was still the same stubborn hardass, their conversation could end in a brawl.

Jon parked the car in the circular drive and switched it off. He angled around to face Alex and leaned against the back of the seat. Jon’s hard, direct gaze held his. His friend’s voice was like a snap of a whip. What’s eating at you?

Nothing.

I’m calling bullshit.

A lot. All right?

Yeah, I know.

Alex ground his teeth. Jon, I’m not discussing this right now. I just . . . I can’t.

Jon’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Okay, I get it. But don’t tell me ‘nothing’ because we both know that’s not true. I’ll let this pass since we’re at your sister’s, but Alex, you will tell me. I know you haven’t told me everything from your stay in Colombia. We haven’t had the time. But I need what information you have to help the investigation.

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a heavy sigh with resignation. I will tell you . . . when I’m fucking ready.

Jon grunted. Yeah? We’ll give it a bit before I kick your ass.

As if you could.

Jon’s lips set in a hard line. A lot of people put their ass on the line to bring you home, including me taking a bullet in the shoulder for you. So, yeah, you will talk sooner rather than later.

Jesus, Jon, I’ve just returned home. Back the fuck off.

We have a navy mole to find. SEALs’ lives are at stake from the traps this bastard is setting. I don’t want to see any more loss of life and neither do you. I’ll give you this time with your family. Then we talk.

Alex grunted. Fuck you, Jon.

A grin spread across Jon’s face. Ah . . . there’s my old friend. He still has some fight left in him, too.

I want to see my kids, all right?

Okay. Jon paused for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing his hard features. But you know that once we notify our former chief commander that you’re alive and here, and then file for your honorable discharge, the shit will hit the fan, right? The mole will likely come after you and possibly your children.

That has crossed my mind.

So the sooner you talk, the better.

Alex jerked his head in acknowledgment.

And before I forget . . .

Aw, hell, what more could Jon want from him now?

. . . I’m glad I found you alive and brought you home where you belong. I missed your ugly ass.

Alex shook his head at Jon’s levity. It’s good to be home, and thank you—Jon’s eyebrow rose high, almost touching his crew cut—for saving my ugly ass. I thought I was dead when they moved me to that tiny island off Cartagena. I owe you and Ben big time.

Jon snorted and got out of the car.

Alex sat in the SUV and watched through the tinted glass, spellbound, as Lily walked around the corner of her new home, a familiar man slowly trailing behind her. His breath caught somewhere between his gut and his throat, and his vision glazed over. He swiped the moisture from his eyes. His sister looked vibrant, happy—full of the life that he and Lisa had been deprived of. His fists clenched. How would she greet him?

He listened as Jon spoke to his sister. Hi, Lily.

Lily smiled at Jon. God, how he missed her and his other siblings. Jon! This is a surprise!

As Jon stepped toward Lily with a distinctive limp, she asked, Did you hurt yourself?

You could say that. Twisted my ankle a bit. Jon hugged her.

Lily said, I’ll go get Ben and let him know you’re here. My brothers and sister are here for dinner. We’re barbecuing. We’re about to sit down and eat. Would you join us? Are you staying a while?

Yes, I’m starving, and I’ll stay for a little while, if you don’t mind. I could use some R and R.

Alex could relate to how Jon felt. He was also bone tired. They both almost didn’t make it out of Colombia alive. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to repay his friends for putting their lives in jeopardy to save his ass. And all of his brothers and sisters were here?

Lily shifted around to leave. You know you’re welcome anytime. Let me get Ben. We’ll get you settled in the guesthouse.

Jon quickly said, Lily?

Alex’s sister turned back around. Yes?

A moment please. Jon pivoted on his bootheels and walked back to the car where Alex had waited on pins and needles, drinking in the sight of his sister. The time had come to embrace his new life, to man up, but why did he feel like he was about to puke? Jon reached for the door as Lily watched, a frown marring her face.

She asked, Yes, Jon, what is it?

Alex leaned his head against the tinted windows and took a deep breath. God, he hoped Lily would forgive him for his unfortunate absence. Jon paused and spun around to his sister. Behind her, several people stood not too far away. Searching their faces, they all looked familiar, but he couldn’t be sure if he knew them. It seemed like ages since he’d seen anyone he knew.

His leg started to throb. He needed to get out of the car. Jon spoke to the men standing behind Lily. Mission was successful.

The man’s ice-blue eyes were familiar—sometimes in his nightmares. Oh my God.

His sister looked confused. It was time to end it and show himself. Alex sat straight, breathing through his nose, trying to collect himself and calm his jumbled emotions. Jon opened the door for him since one hand was bandaged and he still didn’t have his full strength back to even open a goddamn car door.

Jon assisted him out of the car. He exhaled as he gazed into confused, green eyes . . . Larsen eyes.

He heard his sister say, I didn’t . . . think it was . . . possible.

Alex glimpsed in the mirror that morning. His face was pasty and gaunt with a scruffy beard. He’d be confused himself as to who he was, and now he stood before his sister, looking like. . . .

She blinked then closed her eyes tight. When she opened them again, staring directly at him for long, agonizing seconds, she murmured, I didn’t . . . not possible.

Lily didn’t move. She appeared stunned, speechless. That wasn’t normal for his feisty sister, if he remembered correctly. Still not sure of his welcome—or what she might be thinking—he watched her. Lily? he hesitantly asked.

She took a step toward him. A heartrending sound escaped from her lips, Alex?

He choked. Yes.

Suddenly, he was engulfed in her arms. He shuddered as she sobbed against him, soaking his shirt. He scrunched his eyes closed, faced up toward the blue sky, and whispered, Thank you, God.

Another pair of arms wrapped around his side. He found his other sister, Hailie, looking up at him with her misty, green eyes. I missed you, big brother. I knew you were alive.

The words stuck in his throat. Instead, he nodded, gathered Hailie close, and held on. She started to cry, too.

Alex? A tortured voice caught his attention. He looked into ice-blue eyes he thought he’d never see again. Ben, his best friend and comrade in arms, stood before him.

Alex choked on his words. Ben? I thought I’d never see you again. I thought you died on that beach in Cartagena long ago.

Ben cleared his throat as his stormy eyes misted over. I thought I accidentally shot you. All this time—until Jon found out you were alive—I thought you were dead, man.

The air from Alex’s lungs wheezed out as he replied, You never shot me.

Ben’s eyebrows passed his hairline. What?

To say his friend was shell-shocked would be an understatement. You know how chaotic it was on the beach that night—goons everywhere, gunfire coming in all directions. . . . He hadn’t been shot on that mission. But he made it look like he had. It was part of the meticulous planning he organized, deep undercover, and then it all went to shit three months into his self-imposed captivity. And there were only five men in brass who were part of the plot, one of them a traitor—the mole. What would his friends think of him when he explained everything? He really didn’t want to know.

Alex shook his head, hoping to remove the horrible memory of that fateful night and his colossal mistake in trusting five high-ranking officers. I promise to explain later, but not now.

Jon jumped in. We’ve only been back in the States for about a week, staying off the radar to give Alex some time to recover.

Ben enveloped Alex in a big bear hug. You’re alive and home. That’s all that matters right now.

As his gaze skimmed over Ben’s shoulder, Alex stopped breathing. Alex would recognize his son, Mason, anywhere. He was a few years older, a bit taller, and lost all his baby fat. His towheaded, blond-haired boy had also darkened, but he had the Larsen’s green eyes, a trait prominent in the family. Mason held his sister’s hand as they stared at him. Cindy, his daughter. The last time he held her, she was a tiny thing with no hair and big, blue eyes—just like her mother. Now she was four years old with chestnut strands tied up in pigtails. She was a punch to his gut. He missed three years of their lives. Three goddamn, fucking years. The mole will pay for that.

Cindy asked, Mason, who’s that man?

Our dad.

But he’s dead, like Mommy.

No. I remember what he looked like, Mason said, pointing to Alex, and that’s him.

I don’t remember, Cindy said. His daughter peered at him like he was a stranger, making his heart break into tiny, little pieces.

Mason said, You were a baby, but I remember.

Alex choked. Mason? You remember me?

His son didn’t say anything, just kept staring at him. Alex grabbed the side of the car as best he could and slowly worked his way onto his knees. Pain shot through his leg and up his spine, making his jaw clench, but he needed to be on the same level with his children. His brothers and sisters stepped back, giving him room to embrace them. Lily went to his kids to reassure them that it was okay. He opened his arms and waited with bated breath, hoping his children would see how much he missed them.

Alex had longed for this moment. He dreamt of his kids back in his arms, safe. It’s what kept him alive and sane. Mason, he said on a sob.

Mason took a few steps toward him but stopped and glanced at Cindy. She was pulling back, not wanting to come closer. He blinked the gathered moisture from his eyes and his shoulders slumped. What did he expect? Instant recognition from his kids, and everything would be good? Oh, how wrong he was.

Cindy, it’s okay. Do you believe me that he’s our daddy? Mason asked.

His daughter loudly whispered, I believe you. I’m just scared.

Nothing bad is going to happen, Mason reassured her.

Okay.

His son continued to hold Cindy’s hand as they came closer to him. He asked, Mason, do you remember me?

Yes, a little bit.

Alex wiped his eyes and swallowed over the lump in his throat. He didn’t want his kids seeing him cry. I’m sorry you thought I was dead. I was captured, and so everyone thought I’d died. But I’m home now to take care of you and your sister . . . if you’ll let me. I’ve missed you, and I love you both so much.

Cindy’s little hand reached out and caressed his wet cheek. Don’t cry.

Mason jumped into his arms, almost strangling his neck with his arms wrapped around him so tight. I’ve missed you, too, Daddy.

Cindy hugged him but didn’t say anything. Alex closed his eyes but couldn’t stop the silent tears. He was helped to his feet and stood on wobbly legs, keeping his children in his arms even though it strained his strength. He’d waited years to hold them again. He would not let go.

Then he was pushed back and enveloped in three pairs of hard-muscled arms—his brothers Shane, Ken, and Nate. Oh damn. He couldn’t keep his emotions in check. He wept as they helped him hold his children.

But it was Ryan, his eldest brother, who clasped his hands along Alex’s wet cheeks. His big brother’s green eyes were stormy with emotions of pain and relief as he murmured, Welcome home, little brother.

Alex welcomed the Larsen family bear hug from his siblings and cried in silence so as not to frighten his kids. But there was no denying it as he shuddered and sucked in his newfound freedom and fresh air for the first time in years. Home. Yes, he was finally home.

Chapter 1

Ten Months Later

Alex stepped inside the Mendocino Market holding Cindy as Mason trailed behind him. Mouth salivating, he inhaled the fresh-baked bread in the deli. He’d never get enough of the delicious smells of fresh-cooked foods, which had been in short supply while held prisoner on a drug plantation. He loved this place, and the owner, Ted, was a longtime friend from his school days.

Hey, Alex, the usual picnic lunch? Ted asked.

Yep. Taking the kids to the beach today. The sun is out, and we want to seize this opportunity to build a few sandcastles.

Excellent. I’ll have it ready in fifteen minutes.

Alex asked, Have any new wines to try out?

"As a matter of