Protecting What's Mine: A Security Romance Collection

by Apryl Baker

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “Yes, Max, I’m pregnant.”

  Max felt the smile spreading across his face. He was going to be a father. His baby was growing in her belly. Pride swelled inside him. He tried to sit up, but the pain forced him to lie back down. Instead he held his arm open for her.

  “Are you okay? Did you pull your stitches?”

  “I don’t care, Sloane. I just want you in my arms. Come here.”

  “Max no, you’re hurt.”

  “Now.” The firmness in his voice left no room to argue.

  Sloane carefully climbed into the small hospital bed with him. She put her head on his shoulder and her hand over his heart. He was in pain and beyond tired, but he had the woman he loved in his arms and his future growing inside of her. Nothing could top this moment of pure happiness.

  “Max,” she whispered against his shoulder.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Tears still glistened in hers. Her smile lit up every dark spot in his soul.

  “I love you too, Max.”

  Her soft kiss was like a promise. A promise of their future together. Just like that, Sloane topped his best moment ever. He knew without a doubt she would continue to do so for years to come and he couldn’t wait.

  Epilogue

  Max

  Max watched as Mia struggled to keep herself from falling back down on her cute little diapered butt. At ten months old, she was already growing up too quickly for his liking. These were his favorite moments. Sitting out in the yard while his daughter played on the blanket beside him. The wonder in her eyes as she took in her surroundings was a salve to his soul. All of the shitty things he saw as a cop and then as a PI had begun to jade him. Mia helped restore his faith in humanity.

  He’d never expected to trust a woman enough to fall in love. Finding Sloane had changed him in the best possible way. She made him want to be a better man. He couldn’t be more grateful to be able to call her his own. Her sweet voice broke him from his thoughts.

  “I thought we agreed that she could wait on a puppy, Max?”

  “We did, but look at her, baby. She’s already in love.”

  Sloane sat next to Max on the blanket. Their daughter giggled loudly as she played with the cutest ball of yellow fur. The eight-week-old golden retriever was a perfect addition to their little family. Yes, Max had agreed to wait until Mia was a toddler before buying a dog, but one look at the pup and Max couldn’t pass him up.

  “What can I say? When you’re right, you’re right. He’s absolutely adorable.”

  “Can I get that in writing?” He laughed.

  “That he’s adorable? Sure.”

  “No, that I’m right?”

  “No, you may not.”

  Sloane smiled sweetly at him, leaning over to steal a kiss. Almost two years later and her kisses still ignited the fire within him. He lifted her hand up and kissed the back of it. Her diamond engagement ring sparkled in the sunlight.

  “When are you going to set a date and make an honest man outta me?”

  “When we aren’t so busy that I can take the time to drop what’s left of this weight.”

  “There’s nothing for you to drop. You’re even more beautiful than when we first met.”

  Sure, her belly wasn’t as taunt as before, and there were stretch marks where there was once smooth skin, but Max didn’t care about those things. Sloane was gorgeous. The fact that she had given him a healthy, happy, beautiful baby girl only made him want her more.

  “Max.” She scowled, rolling her eyes at him.

  “I’m serious. Everything around here will be relatively settled in a few weeks. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “I can’t plan a wedding in a few weeks, Max.” She laughed at his eagerness.

  “Okay, okay. Soon, though?”

  “Soon, Max, soon.”

  Sloane moved herself between his legs. He opened them into a V shape to allow her to sit. She pressed her back to his chest, and Max wrapped his arms around her. They watched Mia play with her new friend.

  “So what time will the guys be over in the morning? Do you want me to make breakfast?”

  For now, Max was conducting business out of his small home office until the building he leased was ready to move in. He was waiting for the landlord to give him the green light. As of last month all the proper licensing had come in. His dream of being his own boss was finally a reality. Once he knew it was going to happen, he called Tank, Mother, and Gutter Mouth. They all agreed to take on a role in the company. Max couldn’t be happier. He had it all: an amazing, soon-to-be wife, a sweet baby girl, and a bright future, heading up his own company.

  “No way, you’re my woman. If you don’t stop feeding them, they’ll never go out and find their own,” he teased.

  “Yes, dear. Can you answer one thing for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Why in God’s name would you name that sweet little puppy, ‘Killer’?”

  “Why not?” he asked innocently as she erupted with laughter.

  “I love you, Maxwell Fear. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, but I sure as hell love you.”

  “I love you, baby. I can think of a few things you can do with me.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. His cell phone chimed from his pocket. “Hold that thought.”

  He swiped his finger across the screen to answer. Sloane watched him expectantly as he said, “thank you” and disconnected. He smiled down at her before kissing her soft lips.

  “Fear Incorporated is officially open for business.”

  The End.

  Bonus!

  Get Instant Access to A "Secret" Bonus Chapter From Fear Inc. Volume 1 by Melinda Valentine Now!

  Click HERE.

  About the Author

  Melinda Valentine was born in upstate New York. Being the youngest of four children (and the only girl) made it easy for her to turn to books as companions. As a young child, she was whisked away to Baltimore, Maryland and spent her youth reading books such as Nancy Drew, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Little House on the Prairie saga.

  However, it wasn't until she was twelve years old that she read a book (Stephen King's IT) that made her realize that someday, she would herself become a writer. After that, her first (horrible) manuscript came to life, and at thirteen she had received her very first rejection letter. Heartbroken, she continued to read even more to learn about the craft of writing.

  Today Melinda calls West Virginia home, with her husband and their three hilarious children. She works full time as a bank teller and creates characters she hopes her readers fall in love with as much as she has.

  Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/authormelindavalentine

  Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/author_melindav

  Website:

  http://www.melindavalentine.com/

  Kade

  By Apryl Baker

  Chapter One

  The crowd below looked more like an ant farm than an actual New York street, teeming with busy people, Juan Ramirez noted as he watched from his thirty-second-floor hotel room. It always fascinated him how very animalistic humans were, even when they clung desperately to the trappings of society. At heart, people were all animals, himself included. Sometimes he even pretended to be civilized, but today was not one of those days.

  He checked his watch again. Mona was late. The bitch had been late for their last three meetings. She seemed to be under the impression she was safe just because she happened to be the daughter of a councilman. These putas, they were all the same. Maybe this time he’d teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget.

  After another thirty minutes and no Mona, he pulled on his jacket and checked his gun, making sure it was fully loaded. Habit, really. He had other business to attend to this morning.

  “Mateo!”

  The six-year-old ducked his head through the door. “Sí, señor?”

  �
�Grab your shoes, little one. We have business to attend to.”

  The little boy nodded and disappeared back into the bedroom. Juan heard the television turn off, and then the child came shuffling out of the room, rubbing his eyes. He hadn’t slept well the night before. Nightmares plagued him. He’d get over them soon enough. Juan was training the boy to be a weapon. He needed to be exposed to everything from a young age to let go of his conscience and become the killer the cartel wanted.

  The boy could almost pass for a Hispanic if it weren’t for his green eyes. He played outside enough to be as brown as the other children, and his coal black hair blended in well. It was just his eyes, inherited from his mother.

  From what Juan knew of the boy’s real father, the child took after him. It was hard for him to understand that killing was necessary. He had the nasty tendency to want to protect others. He’d seen it in the way the child stood up to bullies in the neighborhood, even at such a young age. It was Juan’s job to direct that protectiveness toward the cartel.

  Those were the instructions he’d been given when they’d delivered the child into his custody six years ago. He kept himself detached, never letting himself care for the boy. That wasn’t his job. He was to keep him fed, clothed, and to train him. Much as he himself had been trained.

  “Listo.”

  Juan nodded and collected the child’s hand, leading him out of the room and to the elevator. The boy liked elevators. His eyes lit up every time they got on one. It was one of the small pleasures he allowed the child. Juan himself had been fascinated by escalators at that age. Having a little fun wouldn’t cause any harm to the grand scheme of things.

  As they stepped out of the hotel, he noticed a black town car pull up behind his own black SUV. Mona tumbled out of the back door before her driver could so much as get out. She spotted Juan right away and smiled, her overly white teeth flashing in the sunlight. Golden bracelets clinked together on her right arm, distracting Juan from the woman’s tight red dress. She stumbled again as she started forward, her six-inch stilettos getting in her way.

  “Juan.” She leaned in to kiss him, and Juan dodged her. She stank of cigarettes and stale beer.

  “You are late.”

  She gave him another sugary grin. “I’m not late, I’m just…”

  “Drunk.” He couldn’t hide the disgust in his voice. “It is no matter. We can discuss our business on the way to my next appointment.” He took her arm and steered her toward the SUV, pushing her inside when his driver opened the door. There wasn’t room for all of them in the back, so he ordered the boy into the front seat. Mateo obeyed without question, his expression blank. Juan knew he suspected something bad was coming.

  And it was.

  “You have my money?” He let his eyes rove over Mona. She had a nice figure.

  “Yes.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out a fat envelope. He took it from her and counted, ignoring her gasp of outrage. He no more trusted her not to cheat him than he did anyone else. All there. At least she was honest with her money. He tucked it into his breast pocket then turned his attention back to the simpering socialite.

  “We must have the discussion of punctuality again, Mona. I am growing weary of this.”

  “Juan, baby, I have responsibilities too…”

  “No, you were getting hammered.” He cut her off before she started her usual spiel of bullshit.

  She sent him what she probably thought was a sultry look, when in fact it looked like she’d just tasted something sour. He couldn’t abide drunkards, especially those who worked for him.

  “Today will be the last day you are ever late to a meeting and the last day you will ever show up drunk.”

  Her smile turned sly, and he knew she thought he was bluffing. He wasn’t.

  “You’re going to learn what happens when you disobey me, Mona.”

  The chill in his voice made Mateo gasp in the front seat. He’d used that tone on the boy enough during punishments for him to recognize it. He understood what it meant. Mona soon would.

  “You think I can’t hurt you, puta?” He leaned over, his hand cupping her neck, his thumb stroking her jawline. “Because of your papa.”

  She smiled, the triumph of that statement in her glassy, drunken eyes.

  “You’re wrong.” He tightened his grip around her throat, cutting off her air. She squirmed, trying to get away, but he rolled on top of her, coming to rest with his knees on either side of the small woman. “I could snap your neck and toss you in the dumpster behind the warehouse we’re going to.”

  She struggled, bucking, but he simply squeezed her neck tighter.

  “I know what you’re thinking. People saw you get into this vehicle. Cameras, evidence…” He grinned. “All I have to do is make a phone call, and all that evidence gets scrubbed clean. And those eyewitnesses? They’ll forget what they saw, or they’ll disappear. We never get caught. You’re not safe, Mona. The day you agreed to mule drugs for us, your life became ours to do with as we pleased.”

  He eased his grip, and she drew in a small sip of air. He let his other hand cup her breast, twisting the nipple harshly. “Do you understand, Mona?”

  Her eyes dilated, the fear finally beginning to show, but she didn’t nod. This woman. He shook his head and pinched her nipple harder, pulling a cry of pain from her.

  “Do you understand?”

  She nodded after a moment, and he let her go, sitting back down on his side of the SUV. This puta was going to learn her lesson today. Of that, he’d made up his mind. Everyone in the organization understood their place, and Mona was going to get it through her head if he had to beat her bloody.

  They rode in silence for the next half hour as the driver took them into the Bronx. They pulled into the abandoned apartment complex Hector operated out of. There were no guards on the front. It wasn’t only whores who were stupid. Dealers who thought themselves kingpins suffered from the same affliction.

  He opened his door and dragged Mona out. Mateo joined him without having to be told. They approached the front entrance, and again, no guards met them. It wasn’t until they descended into the basement that he ran into a guard.

  “Buying or selling?” The tall black man stared down at Juan, his expression a no-nonsense one. At least they’d put someone who could do some damage on the door. He looked like a boxer.

  “Juan Ramirez to see Hector.” His quiet voice belied the danger behind the words.

  “I don’t know a Juan Ramirez.’

  “Hector does.” He put a bit of a bite into his tone and the guy stared at him for a heartbeat longer, debating, but opened the door and allowed him inside.

  Juan shook his head. None of their guards back home would have been stupid enough to let an unknown individual into the heart of one of their drug houses. He would have been verified first. These New Yorkers. None of them understood anything.

  The basement itself was a hive of activity. Three rows of tables had been set up along one wall where drugs were being cut and packaged. Another two rows of tables took up the other wall where people sat counting money. Never have your money and your drugs in the same location. That was the first rule of the cartel. The police might get the drugs or the money, but they’d never get both. Laziness.

  He spotted Hector laid back on the deep red velvet couch enjoying a blow job from a dark-haired woman. His whore, most likely, or one of the gang’s girls who serviced any of the male members when required. He had his eyes closed, sweat outlining his brow, while he moaned at the talented little mouth pleasuring him.

  Juan watched them, his own cock twitching. The puta seemed to know what she was doing. He let out a long breath when the girl did something that brought Hector’s ass up off the couch, and a deep groan escaped the man. Perhaps Juan would taste the girl himself.

  He strode over and pulled the girl from Hector by the hair and tossed her aside. The man’s eyes opened, the glare dying when he saw the gun pointed at his cock. For a man like Hect
or, the loss of his manhood would be more detrimental than anything else Juan could do to him. Unfortunately, death was in the cards for Hector.

  The sound of the gun echoed through the room louder than even Hector’s screams as blood gushed from his cock. It wouldn’t kill him quickly. He’d have to bleed out, but it would ensure he listened to Juan and that everyone here heard what he had to say.

  “You think we don’t know everything, Hector? We don’t know you’re skimming money from the prostitution rings, overselling the drugs, and keeping a share? This is not your operation. It is the cartel’s operation, and you are nothing.”

  “I wasn’t…” Hector pressed down on the wound, trying to stem the blood and stop the pain. “I…”

  Juan fired the gun again, and it hit Hector’s kneecap. Another scream rolled out of the man.

  “Don’t lie to me, boy. You think I would be here if we didn’t have proof?” He fired another bullet into the man’s foot. “You knew what would happen if you cheated us. We told you the rules from day one, and you thought you were smarter than we were. That you wouldn’t get caught. Stupid.”

  He saw Mateo out of the corner of his eye. The boy stood stoic, his eyes fixed on the horrific scene in front of him, but they burned with rage. Juan needed to find a way to flip that rage to the side of the cartel. He worried the kid would never be an asset to the cartel. He was too much like his father, but that wouldn’t deter Juan from doing his best.

  “Mateo, come here.”

  The boy shuffled over to him, his spine stiff and his eyes downcast.

  “What happens to those who betray us?”

  “They are punished.” The boy looked at Hector, his expression as emotionless as his voice.

  Juan put a bullet right between Hector’s eyes, and Mateo never flinched. At least the boy was learning to compartmentalize.