Conceit (Se7en Deadly SEALs Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’m so sorry. Your brother is the kindest guy. Not like his friends, especially that jackass Mitch. None of us think Joaquín killed Tiffy.”
    I jumped down from the seat, my breath bottled in my chest. “You know him? Were you at the party? I know he didn’t do it. Can you help me?”
    She gave me a warm smile. “I was at that party. But nothing was out of the ordinary. It was just some Team guys and some girls from here. The police interviewed us all. I’ve racked my brain trying to think of something, anything that stood out. Maybe it was an accident? I’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could help.”
    My mind raced. There had to be something she could tell me. Some clues to give me hope. “Which guy invited you?”
    “Grant. Tall, amazing body, tattoos, blond hair, green eyes.”
    I gasped and almost tripped on the cracked asphalt. “Grant Carrion? You must be mistaken. He hates strip clubs. I know—he’s my ex-boyfriend.”
    She let out a laugh. “So you’re the girl who fucked him up? Sorry to be the one to tell you honey, but Grant’s a regular. Comes in here every Tuesday night when he’s in town. Has a thing for bleached blondes with huge tits and fake lips. We call him Ken, because he’s always scouting for his newest Barbie. Shows them a good time when he’s around, deploys, then moves on to the latest model when he returns.” She gave me a sad smile. “Look, I have to go to work. My name is Emma, but my stage name is Pepper. If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to stop in. I want to help. Best of luck with your brother.”
    “Thanks, Emma.” I hugged her. She waved goodbye to me, and I got back into the truck.
    Heat rose in my body. Could she be right? Had Grant become addicted to the strip clubs since I’d left him? Spending his free time here, drinking himself into oblivion, finding comfort with women who had no expectations, women who could never disappoint him the way I had?
    I winced, pushing away the image of Grant getting a lap dance from some troubled woman with ragged extensions and fake tits.
    But Emma had given me what I needed, what I craved. Hope.
    I now had a clue. Grant had invited the girls. This man, who I thought I knew everything about, was nothing more than a stranger to me. Maybe he was hiding something.
    Seven Deadly SEALs—Seven Achilles’ Heels. I would smoke out their secrets and figure out what happened that night.
    ***

 

     
     
    I’D BEEN BACK IN SAN FRANCISCO for two weeks. I attempted to honor Joaquín’s wish and stay in school, but I couldn’t focus. Even attending guided meditations and Kirtan chanting hadn’t helped. My mind raced in class. I hadn’t slept well since I’d returned.
    I glanced around my room in the tiny North Beach apartment that I shared with two other San Francisco State students. Scripts lay across my desk, with stacks of books huddled against the wall. Just a little over a month ago my life had been so simple, so easy. One focus, one goal. To be the best actress possible. How stupid and trivial my dreams seemed now.
    I swiped through my iPhone to the San Diego News app, scanning for headlines about Joaquín. I didn’t have to even scroll down the page. There it was at the top. Bail denied for U.S. Navy SEAL accused of murdering a stripper.
    Fuck.
    My ears pounded and my vision blurred. I couldn’t even read the article. No hope. This was it—the realization finally sank in that he might get convicted of this crime.
    I called Joaquín’s lawyer, but the secretary told me that my brother had given instructions not to talk to me any more. The secretary had only one thing to say: Joaquín had transferred the title of his truck to me. I knew Joaquín too well—this was his way of ensuring I went on with my life. But what he didn’t realize was that I would never be able to enjoy my life unless I fought for his.
    I needed to clear my head, meditate, try to find some peace. Find a way to connect to Joaquín.
    Despite