Decked
Heather Slade
The Invincibles Book One
Decked
© 2019 Heather Slade
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 13: 978-1-942200-70-3
Also by Heather Slade
THE INVINCIBLES
Book One: Decked
Coming Soon!
Book Two: Edged
Book Three: Grinded
Book Four: Riled
Book Five: Caspered
Book Six: Tackled
K19 SECURITY SOLUTIONS
Book One: Razor
Book Two: Gunner
Book Three: Mistletoe
Book Four: Mantis
Book Five: Dutch
Book Six: Striker
Book Seven: Monk
Coming Soon!
Book Eight: Halo
MILITARY INTELLIGENCE SECTION 6
Book One: Shiver
Book Two: Wilder
Book Three: Pinch
Book Four: Shadow
Coming Soon!
Book Five: Quiver
BUTLER RANCH
Available Now!
Book One: Brodie
Book Two: Maddox
Book Three: Naughton
Book Four: Mercer
Book Five: Kade
COWBOYS OF CRESTED BUTTE
Available Now!
Book One: Fall for Me
Book Two: Dance with Me
Book Three: Kiss Me Cowboy
Book Four: Stay with Me
Book Five: Win Me Over
Contents
1. Decker
2. Mila
3. Decker
4. Mila
5. Decker
6. Mila
7. Decker
8. Adler
9. Mila
10. Decker
11. Mila
12. Decker
13. Mila
14. Decker
15. Mila
16. Decker
17. Mila
18. Decker
19. Mila
20. Decker
21. Mila
22. Decker
23. Adler
24. Decker
25. Mila
26. Decker
27. Mila
28. Decker
29. Mila
30. Decker
31. Mila
32. Adler
33. Decker
34. Mila
35. Adler
36. Decker
37. Adler
38. Mila
39. Decker
40. Mila
41. Decker
42. Mila
43. Decker
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Edged
About the Author
Also by Heather Slade
1
Decker
As I drove home from the airport after my flight back from London, something on the side of the road caught my eye. What the hell was that? Couldn’t be a deer, not in these parts. It wasn’t big enough to be a cow, unless it was a damn skinny one.
I stopped the truck and climbed out, at first thinking it might be a mannequin someone had tossed by the road, until it started to moan.
“What in the—” I rushed over and saw it was a woman. It was dark, and she was on her side, but I didn’t recognize her. She was pretty enough that if she was from around here, I sure as hell would’ve.
“Don’t move,” I said when the woman tried to sit up. I leaned down farther and eased my hand under her head. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I have to go,” she cried, trying again to move. “He’ll kill me.”
“Who’s gonna kill you?”
“My…”
The woman lost consciousness again. But wait, she’d gone perfectly still.
“Lord in heaven,” I whispered out loud as I felt for a pulse at the same time I leaned down to check for signs of breathing. Neither were present. I pulled out my phone, called nine-one-one, and then lifted the woman’s head slightly to open her airway.
“Nine-one-one operator. What’s your emergency?”
“Violet, this is Decker Ashford. I’m just east of mile marker sixty-six on Old Austin Highway. Got a vic, no pulse, not breathing. Starting CPR and rescue breaths. Get somebody out here!”
“On it, Deck. Put me on speaker.”
I tossed my phone aside, counted thirty compressions, pinched the woman’s nose, and then gave her two rescue breaths before repeating the process.
“Mac says he’s two minutes out,” I heard Violet say.
Mac? What the hell? Why was she sending the sheriff when the woman wasn’t breathing?
I couldn’t stop to ask; I’d just finished thirty chest pumps and needed to give her two more rescue breaths. Before I finished the next count, the sheriff’s car pulled up, immediately followed by an ambulance.
When the paramedic knelt down next to me, I moved out of the man’s way.
As I walked away, something else caught my eye—a cell phone lay not far from the woman.
“What happened here?” Mac asked seconds before two other patrol cars pulled up.
I told him about seeing something alongside the road and how I’d stopped.
“You recognize her?” Mac asked.
“Negative.”
“Check for ID?”
“No time, but there’s a phone,” I answered, pointing to it.
“Can I get some light and a stretcher over here?” I heard the paramedic yell at the same time Mac told one of the deputies to get the phone and put it in an evidence bag.
I saw the blood as soon as the EMTs lifted the woman to put her on the stretcher. The grass below her body was covered in it.
“Gunshot wound is my guess,” Mac muttered.
If Mac was right, I had accelerated the woman’s death. “Jesus Christ, I was doing chest compressions.”
Mac put his hand on my shoulder. “You did what you thought needed to be done. Based on what I see, you couldn’t have saved her anyway.”
I scrubbed my face with my hand. Didn’t matter what Mac said, what I’d done was stupid.
“You headed back to the ranch?” Mac asked as we watched the ambulance pull away.
“Nah. I’ll follow ’em.”
Mac scrunched his eyes. “Decker…this ain’t in your jurisdiction.”
I shook my head. “I don’t have a jurisdiction, Sheriff.”
Mac looked over to where his deputies were surveying the scene. “Let’s be on our way. Find out the official time of death, and see if we can figure out who this girl was.” Before I walked back to my truck, Mac opened the door of the patrol car and grabbed the bag containing the cell and another pair of gloves. “See if you can crack this thing open.”
2
Mila
There was an elevator in my building, but I always took the stairs. I liked the exercise, although four flights didn’t exactly get my heart rate up.
Tonight, like every other night, I couldn’t wait to cross the threshold from the hallway into my studio apartment where I could leave the chaos of the city behind and enter my very own Greek Island oasis.
My walls were painted an aqua blue, and I’d covered my sofa and bed with
brightly colored patterns and prints. There were red geraniums in my kitchen, and on my tiny patio, two pots of bougainvilleas. They died every winter, but in the spring, I just planted more.
I tossed my satchel on the end of the bed, kicked off my shoes, removed my hot pink, raw silk blouse, tossed it on the bed too, and then padded into a kitchen that wasn’t big enough to fit two people at a time. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of rosé.
It was a hot and humid eighty-four degrees outside, even at six in the evening, but inside my apartment, it was a cool seventy-two. One benefit of living in a four-hundred-square-foot space was it didn’t take much to cool it in the summer or heat it in the winter. And even as hot as it was, it still was nowhere near the blazing temps of Texas in July.
I unzipped my skirt and tossed it on the pile at the end of my bed, tempted to sit in front of the air conditioner in nothing but my bra and panties. But I couldn’t do that. Any minute, my friend and neighbor, Adler, would knock on my door mere seconds before he used the key he kept for emergencies to let himself in.
I had enough trouble trying to convince Ad that I wouldn’t date him now or ever—no matter how many times he asked. If he walked in on me scantily attired, he’d assume he’d worn me down enough to change my mind.
It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy Adler’s company, and he was certainly attractive enough, with his sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. He loved to go to the theater and galleries and roam the streets of Boston, just like I did. He was well-read and a great conversationalist, but when it came to chemistry, there wasn’t any. He might as well be my brother, not that I had one.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t Adler at all—I was the one with the problem.
I heard Adler’s anticipated knock and ducked into the bathroom with my shorts and top in hand.
“Hey,” I said, coming out while still fastening the bottom button on my blouse.
“No need to get dressed on my behalf,” he said, eyeing the pile of clothes at the end of my bed and then looking me up and down.
“How are you, Ad?”
“Hot,” he said, plopping down in the chair I’d been sitting in.
“Glass of wine?” I asked, escaping into the kitchen.
“Sure.”
When he leaned back and closed his eyes, I checked him out like he had me.
His signature summer tank looked like he’d had it since he was a teenager. His shorts—too short in my opinion, but it was the style these days—showed off his sculpted legs. Yeah, Ad had a great body. Why didn’t it do anything for me? If only it would, I’d know there was hope for me to have a normal life after all.
“I envy how cool your apartment stays.”
As far as apartments went, he didn’t have much to envy. His was ten times the size of mine. The owners of the building, Adler’s parents, had combined all the apartments on the top level into one—and that’s where Adler lived. Which meant Adler Livingston was also my landlord.
“How was work today?” he asked, taking the glass of wine I offered.
“Quiet but also productive.”
“When are the students back?”
“Officially, not until the end of August. But there are so many workshops going on now.”
I worked at my alma mater, the Northeastern College of Music, as an adjunct instructor. It was a step below an adjunct professor, and several steps lower than a tenured professor.
It was my fifth summer as an instructor, and this fall would be the start of my fourth academic year. The private institution, which charged a tuition on par with Harvard but without the same billion-dollar endowment, didn’t pay much, but it was enough that I could afford my apartment and occasionally travel.
This year, though, I’d gone through my entire savings, flying back and forth from Texas.
First, it was to visit my ailing grandfather, the man who had taken my sister, our mother, and me in after my parents’ divorce, and whom my sister had continued to live with after our mother died shortly after I graduated from high school.
It wasn’t just traveling that had left me broke. When my grandfather died, I’d paid the medical bills that the money he left hadn’t covered. I’d also paid for the funeral and burial.
My sister, Sybil, had insisted we ask our father to help, but I’d lied and told her the money wasn’t an issue. I didn’t care if I drained my bank account; I’d never go to that man for money or anything else ever again.
“Oh, by the way, I picked up your mail.” Adler pointed to the table near the front door where he’d set it.
“You did? Um…thanks.” It was one thing that he had a key to my apartment. I didn’t remember anything in my lease that said the landlord kept a key to my mail slot too.
I took another sip of wine and then set it on the table while I flipped through the pile of junk mail. The last piece I came to was from the college.
I picked up my wine and walked over to sit on the end of my bed since Adler was occupying the only chair. I set the glass on the floor and tore open the envelope.
As I skimmed the letter inside, only a handful of words jumped out at me.
We regret to inform you that we will not be renewing your contract for the upcoming fall semester.
“What is it, Millie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I hated it when he called me Millie. My name was Mila. How fucking hard was that to say? It was the same number of syllables. I folded the paper and shoved it back into the envelope and then went into the kitchen to pour myself more wine. When I came back out, Adler had the letter in his hands.
“Shit, Mila. I’m sorry. They aren’t bringing you back?”
I snatched it from his hands and tucked it under a book on my bedside table. “Guess not.”
When Adler stood and tried to draw me into a hug, I bristled and backed away. I knew it hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t help it. I shook my head to chase away the nightmarish memories of what made me so sensitive to a man’s touch. I was already in a horrible mood; I didn’t need to add thinking about that to the mix.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m not going to be very good company, Ad. Why don’t you go do something fun with your friends tonight?”
“Because I’d rather hang with you.”
“I don’t know why,” I mumbled, vacillating between being royally pissed off and wanting to cry.
“Because I like you better than anyone else. And someday, you’ll like me better than anyone else too,” he said, winking at me.
I smiled. It didn’t matter that I was behaving like a raving bitch, Adler found a way to disarm me.
He took another drink of his wine. “Come on, let me take you out for dinner at least. It’s too damn hot to cook.”
He wasn’t just sweet, he was always so generous with me. Yeah, he let himself into my apartment, but how many times a week did we go out and he refused to let me pay? At the very minimum, I should accept his invitation graciously. Besides, if I stayed here, all I’d do was wallow in self-pity.
“Okay, but nowhere fancy.”
Adler motioned to his shirt and shorts. “Not exactly dressed for black tie, Mil.”
“This place is such a tourist trap,” I said when he turned right at the corner of Boylston and Dalton.
“You have to admit, their lobstah is wicked pissa.”
“Ad, it’s too expensive.”
“I got you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I still have a paycheck coming; I can buy my own dinner.” Of course, the only thing I’d be able to afford here was a cup of clam chowder.
“I invited you, remember? My treat.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“Wine?” he asked when we were seated at the crowded bar.
“I’d rather have a beer.”
Adler raised an eyebrow.
“It’s just so hot.”
“You don’t need to convince me. Two Mystics when you get a chan
ce,” he said to the bartender before turning back to me.
“Let’s talk about something besides the job. I’m sure you’ll get another one lined up in no time. How’s your sister doing? Have you spoken to her recently?”
How’s my sister? What an odd thing for Adler to ask. He’d only met Sybil once, and I’d always been forthright about our lack of a relationship. Not to mention, bringing up Sybil reminded me of the state of my now-empty savings account and the fact that I no longer had a job in order to replenish it.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I answered, wondering if she really was. The last time I was in Texas, we’d argued to the point where I changed my ticket and returned to Boston ahead of schedule. Since, I’d had an inexplicable feeling that something was up with Sybil. Not that I’d call to find out. My sister and I had never gotten along, even when we were children.
I took a long swig from the bottle of beer the bartender set in front of me.
“You okay?” Adler asked, resting his hand on my arm.
I bristled at his touch like I had earlier. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”
He frowned. “Why do you do that?”
“I’m sorry. I just…”
“Don’t like being touched. Yeah, I get it.” He got off the stool and went in the direction of the men’s room.
When he came back, he acted as though nothing uncomfortable had happened. I did my best to pay attention as he rambled on about his day, but I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting back to losing my job and why I suddenly had a bad feeling about my sister.
Decked (The Invincibles Book 1) Page 1