Her selfless warrior, p.1
Her Selfless Warrior, page 1
Her Selfless Warrior
Omega Sky, Book One
Caitlyn O’Leary
Contents
Synopsis
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Caitlyn O’Leary
© Copyright 2022 Caitlyn O’Leary
All rights reserved.
All cover art and logo © Copyright 2022
By Passionately Kind Publishing Inc.
Cover by Lori Jackson Design
Edited by Rebecca Hodgkins
Content Edited by Trenda Lundin
Technical Edits by Larry Conway
Cover Photo by: Wander Aguiar :: Photography
* * *
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
If you find any eBooks being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author at Caitlyn@CaitlynOLeary.com.
Family is funny. Sometimes you’re born into it, sometimes you make your own. Sometimes you’re lucky enough to be blessed with a person who you would CHOOSE to have in your life, and they actually ARE your family. I was lucky enough to have my Uncle John (Jack) Marti who was my real uncle and someone I would choose again and again to have in my life.
My first memory of him was when he brought two big red table candles to our house to put on my birthday cake, to wish me a happy second birthday.
I was four.
I stamped my foot and threw a fit, and argued with this strange man all day. He insisted I was two, and I insisted I was four. He told me I wasn’t going to get the present he brought me unless I agreed I was two. I never gave in. I wouldn’t blow out those darn big candles on my chocolate birthday cake either, even though he said I wouldn’t get a piece, and chocolate was my very favorite. (He lied about that too; Mom let me have my birthday cake, but boy did her brother wind me up.)
Yep, that was Uncle Jack. He and my Aunt Micki and Cousin Carrie would come up from California to visit us in Seattle every year. He’d go to play golf and bet on the horses with my dad, and then come back to the house with me and my four siblings and get us going. It was always a battle of wills and I loved every minute of it because I was determined to beat him. I learned how to tease and be teased, I learned how to be a good sport because of my Uncle Jack.
When I first became an author, he was a voracious reader, who read many of my books, and he was one of my biggest fans. Did I still get teased by my Uncle Jack? Hell yes! I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I was lucky to have had a man like him in my life.
Uncle Jack, don’t just rest in peace, you continue to have fun and give ‘em hell.
1933 - 2022
Synopsis
Will they get their second chance at love, before fate rips it away?
As a child, Kostya (Konstantin) Barona saw his father dragged off and his mother brutally murdered by the Russian secret police. He barely escaped the former Soviet Union with his own life. Now that he leads a Navy SEAL team, his whole life is based around rescuing those in need.
Lark Sorensen is an investigative journalist. There has never been an injustice that she didn’t want to scrutinize and throw a spotlight on so the world would know about the atrocities going on around them.
Months ago, Kostya and Lark worked together in Afghanistan to help save a mother and her two little girls, and now they’ve met up again. The fiery sparks everyone expected to fly seem to sputter, but Kostya is intent on fanning the flames.
Now as lives are on the line, can these two work together, or will the injustices of the world finally drag them under?
* * *
This is an action, adventure, romantic, stand-alone novel.
Prologue
“Polina, you have to listen to me.”
Papa sounded scared. His Papa was never scared. Little Konstantin pressed his ear closer to the thin wooden door, trying to block out the sound of his older brother’s questions from across the room. Their Papa had told them to hide with the baby in the ancient cupboard, but Kostya was too curious, so he was at the bedroom door.
“Polina, they’re coming tonight, and when they do, I will go outside and meet them. I need you to stay inside and hide in the bedroom with the children. No matter what happens, stay inside and don’t say a word. It’s up to you to protect our children.”
“You keep saying that. But who’s coming? What are you talking about?”
Mama’s words were loud and she sounded even more scared than when his friend Ivan had almost been eaten by the wild boar!
Even though it was really cold in the bedroom he shared with his brother and sister, fear crawled up his back, heating his skin. Kostya wanted to cry, but he forced the tears back. He was seven, he was too old to cry. He sucked in a deep breath and continued to listen.
“Wife, listen to me!” Papa yelled. “The second they take me away, you need to leave here and go to your brother’s house, he will take care of all of you.”
“That’s impossible,” she whimpered. “Vasily, you know his house is too far away; we won’t make it in winter, not with a sick child and such a young child. It’s impossible.” Kostya watched as his mother threw herself at his father, grabbing at the lapels of his threadbare coat, her face red with tears.
Kostya ached to run out into the little common room and comfort her, but Papa would be the maddest if he thought Kostya wasn’t hiding in the cupboard where he’d put his three children. His Papa didn’t smile anymore—lately, he was either sad or angry.
“Polina, you are a strong woman,” Papa said, gripping her wrists. “You can do this. You have to protect our children. Be brave!”
“Vasily, I’m begging you to come with us! Please, I’m begging you.”
This time it was hard to understand his mother because she was sobbing so hard.
Kostya straightened his shoulders. He knew that he was the one who needed to be strong and brave. He was the most like Papa; his older brother Roman was sickly, and Irina was just a baby.
“Myshka, my love, there is no time left.” His Papa lifted one hand and stroked his mother’s cheek and she shuddered. “After they take me, get my mother’s diamond brooch from the children’s mattress and go to your brother’s.”
“Vasily, it’s too far, little Irina will never make it to Mikhail.” This time his mother sounded sad, almost broken.
Kostya looked over his shoulder at the cupboard. Roman had the door open. His black eyes were dark as pitch as he stared at him. Roman couldn’t hear what was going on, but somehow he knew. He might be sickly, but he knew things were bad…desperate. He gave Kostya a nod and Kostya felt himself settle. He and his brother were in this together.
His Mama started to talk again and his head swung back to the crack in the door.
“What you’re asking, it’s too much. It’s an impossible task. I’m not strong like you. I’m not brave like you. We will all die, Vasily.” This time she didn’t sob. Her words were sad and hopeless. Kostya saw his father’s expression change as he hugged his Mama tight.
“All right, Myshka. All right. I didn’t want you to do this because you’ll be left with nothing. No money, no security, but you can go to Fedor instead.”
“Fedor?”
“The butcher’s helper in town,” his Papa explained. “I have heard that he knows ways to cross the border. It is a rumor only, but it’s your only chance.”
Kostya watched as his mother threw her arms around his father’s waist. “Please come with us,” she begged again. “We can hide with a neighbor. Whoever is after you will forget in time.”
“It’s too late for that. They found out I was working on distributing flyers with Pavel, you know he disappeared, and look what happened to his family. I can’t take that chance with you and our children.”
“It was an accident when their house burned down. Nobody would have left Anna Popov and her children to die in that fire,” Kostya’s mother gasped in horror.
His father stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “It was a message to the rest of us.”
; Kostya wiped away his tears. A month ago his friend Sergei Popov and his mama and all of his sisters had died when their cottage had burned down. Everyone but his father. Is that what was that going to happen to them?
“I’ve got to go, Polina,” his Papa said as he pulled away from his Mama. He turned to the door.
Kostya jumped at the thunderous crash as the front door of their home was slammed off its hinges. Kostya quickly pushed the bedroom door shut.
“Vasily Baronavich! You are under arrest for crimes against the state!”
His mother screeched out in terror.
Kostya thought he heard his sister whimper. He whipped his head around and saw Roman holding a squirming Irina with one hand over her mouth and the other motioning him to get into the cupboard. Kostya shook his head and turned back to the door. He opened it a couple of millimeters so he could see what was going on. His blue eyes went wide. In the dimly lit, cramped room he saw giant figures in all black—even their heads were covered in black!
Two of the monsters grabbed his father and started to drag him toward the door.
“Don’t take him!” his mother shrieked.
“Silence!”
Who said that?
“He’s a good man, don’t take him,” Kostya’s mother continued to plead.
“Polina, hush—” his father started to yell.
Did Kostya just hear Irina? Please no.
Flashes of light and the loud crack of bullets rent the air, mixing in with his mother’s screams, cries, and pleas. Kostya was dizzy and stunned as he tried to focus on anything that he could make sense of.
His mother’s blue eyes were wide with horror, then she raised her hands up in front of her face.
“Please! No! Please, I—”
Kostya saw a yellow flash of gunfire, then red—so much red as his mother’s stomach burst open, her blood spraying across the walls and ceiling and finally landing across his father’s stunned face.
“Myshka!” was the last word his father uttered before one of the men punched a rifle butt into his temple. Then they dragged his body out the door.
“Dammit!” one of the monsters said as he pulled a black mask off his head and wiped Kostya’s mother’s blood from his eyes. “These goddamn villagers need to be taught a lesson again. I want this house burned to the ground, and this time I don’t care if all the houses next to it burn with it.” He pointed at another masked man who started pouring petrol on the kitchen table. “Do you understand me? Make it burn bright!”
The monster nodded. Kostya thought he heard him laugh.
Then Kostya’s eyes widened in horror as one of the other demons headed toward his parents’ bedroom door. “I’ll see if there’s anyone else here,” he said as he slammed Mama and Papa’s door open.
Kostya closed his bedroom door and started running to the cupboard. Their bedroom door started to open as Kostya climbed into the cupboard.
“Boris, stop!” someone yelled. “Who gives a fuck if they have some brats? We’ll burn them all. Come on, we need to go.”
Kostya looked over at his brother and sister. Even in the dim light, he could see the whites of their frightened eyes. Roman clamped his hand firmly against Irina’s mouth. The toddler looked terrified. Roman looked resigned as he looked to Kostya for direction. Even though Roman was older, Kostya had always been the leader.
Kostya opened up the cupboard door just a little bit. When he didn’t hear any voices, he shot out of the cupboard to the bedroom door and peeked out.
The kitchen table was on fire.
He looked for his Mama, but couldn’t see her. He slammed the door shut. He needed to save Roman and Irina.
When he turned around, Roman was out of the cupboard. He still held Irina, but now she was no longer struggling. She was limp, her eyes glassy.
“What now?” Roman asked.
“We have to go out the window. Fast. Roman, you go first,” he commanded. “I’ll push Irina out to you afterward.”
“Our parents?” Roman asked.
Kostya shook his head and Roman winced. He handed Irina to Kostya who gratefully cradled his little sister; it felt good to feel her warmth, her living body.
Kostya watched as Roman climbed on the bed, then shoved open the bedroom window and shimmied out. As soon as Roman was through, Kostya climbed on the bed and looked down at Irina who was still limp in his arms.
“Ah, my little milaya,” Kostya said as he kissed the top of Irina’s head. Her expression changed and she looked up at him. “Kostya?” she asked in her three-year-old voice. Then she started to struggle.
“You’re going out to play with Roman, Irinushka. You get to go outside through the window,” he said with a big grin, hoping she would think the whole thing was fun.
“Roman?” she asked.
“Yes. Now, let’s hurry. He’s waiting for you,” Kostya lifted her up to the window and carefully lowered Irina down to Roman. As soon as his brother took ahold of their sister, Kostya hissed at them, “Quick, run to the church steps. I’ll meet you there.”
“No, come with us now,” Roman insisted.
“I can’t. I have to find Grandmother’s jewelry. You’ve got to go now,” he said angrily.
Roman held his ground despite the fact his thin body was shivering in the snow.
“Just go!” Kostya shouted. He waited until he saw Roman turn and start walking, then he ducked back into their room.
I have to find the brooch!
Kostya smelled smoke. He didn’t have much time.
He yanked the blankets off of the flimsy mattress, frantically trying to remember what his Papa had said. Something about his grandmother’s diamond brooch being in the children’s mattress. Kostya wiped the tears and snot from his face as his small hands fumbled to see where the jewelry might have been sewn in. Roman sometimes helped Mama with the sewing, he would have known where to look.
Derr ⸌mo Konstantin swore. He should have thought of that before having Roman go out the window!
Kostya started to cough. He wiped his eyes when they started to sting.
Struggling, he was finally able to pull the mattress off the wooden frame and shove it over. He saw a spot on the back where there was a different kind of thread. It was like when Mama mended his socks. He pulled at it, trying to tear it open with his nails, but it wouldn’t come loose.
I need Mama’s scissors!
Kostya thought desperately for another few seconds, then let out a roar of satisfaction. He ran to his dresser and pulled out the hunting knife his father had given him and hacked at the mattress until the outer layer ripped open, then he dropped the knife and dug inside the stuffing. Finally, his fingers gripped something solid and he pulled it out. It was a velvet pouch with something in it. He fumbled with the string until he could peer inside.
The smell of smoke was overwhelming. He looked over his shoulder and saw the bedroom door had a malevolent yellow glow all around it, and black smoke was pouring in like some kind of evil fog that was trying to devour him.
He turned his attention back to the pouch and inside he saw something shiny. He prayed it was the brooch. He stuffed the bag into his pocket.
He coughed as he ran back to the dresser and grabbed the valise that Roman had used when he’d taken the train to visit Uncle Mikhail, then stuffed it full with as many jackets, shoes, and clothes that would fit. He was surrounded by the gray fog, but he still managed to see the open window. Kostya stumbled toward it and then went to throw the bag onto the bed so that he could climb out the window, but it wouldn’t work with the mattress gone and he didn’t have the time or the strength to pull it back on the bedframe.
