Covered in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  I agreed. I took a sip of the bourbon, letting the smooth amber liquid burn the back of my throat. “I went to see Sam today.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Confused, sad, but strong.”

  “She talking much?”

  “Not about what they did to her. But she did allow them to examine her at the hospital, and she scheduled an appointment with a psychologist.” I shook my head, trying to forget the memory of her rocking back and forth on the floor of that cell. “She asked me if the job offer is still stood. I take that as a good sign.”

  “Very,” Ty agreed. He shook the ice in his drink. “I know this is not the best timing, but… you still okay with me taking a vacation?”

  I looked up at him. “I’d be angry if you didn’t. It’s more than well deserved. Believe it or not, I’m thinking of taking a couple of days off myself.”

  “Please do. You need the break.”

  “There you two are!” Marti came out onto the patio, tripping slightly on the uneven brick. Aidan and Declan followed.

  I drew her into a one-armed hug, being careful not to spill my drink on her. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

  “Thank you. And thanks for the gift. I can’t wait to take a day of pampering.”

  Declan and I had gotten Marti a certificate to a local spa—one that didn’t use scantily clad women to hand out towels.

  “I was kind of hoping you would go with me,” she said. “We could make it a girls’ day.”

  “Consider it done,” Declan said behind Marti. “I’ll purchase certificates for Brooke and Carrie Anne as well.”

  Marti squealed and threw her arms around Declan’s neck. Aidan smiled and shifted so that he was standing beside me.

  “This was a nice thing you did for Marti,” I told him. “And it gives me a chance to ask you something.”

  “Oh yeah? What would that be?”

  “I was wondering if you would do me the honor of training my new colt?”

  “It would please me greatly to add your horse to my stable.”

  Declan smiled.

  Carrie Anne peeked her head out. “I wondered where everyone disappeared to. Our table is ready.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Marti said.

  While the others entered the restaurant, Declan stayed back with me. He stepped in front of me and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “I like your hair pulled up like this. Very sexy.” He touched a finger to my chin.

  “Thank you,” I said in a soft voice. I studied the bruising around Declan’s eye and on his cheekbone. “How’s the eye?”

  He shrugged. “Meh. Nothing a couple glasses of bourbon can’t handle.”

  We were still avoiding the subject we really needed to discuss: what happened in the basement of that Louisville estate. But I had already told the FBI everything they needed to know—about how I had killed Sergei Charkov before he could kill me. There was no reason for any of it to come back on Declan.

  “You hungry?” I asked.

  “Starving. Let’s go celebrate our friend, and then I’d like to take you home.”

  Home, I thought. “Sounds perfect.”

  I lay curled up on a lounge chair on the upstairs balcony with another glass of bourbon—my third of the night. David had been kind enough to retrieve us from the birthday party, since neither of us was in any condition to drive.

  A storm approached from the west, and I couldn’t help but think of the night the power went out in Louisville. The storm had seemed innocent enough at first; we had expected wind damage, maybe a few power outages. We had certainly not expected a terrorist attack.

  Lightning zigzagged in the distance. Thunder boomed. The fields behind Declan’s house were dark except when lightning filled the sky.

  Declan joined me on the balcony, carrying the bottle of bourbon and his own glass. He sat on the edge of my chair, leaned down, and brushed his lips across mine. It was the first time he’d kissed me all evening. He’d been nervous around me. We’d been nervous around each other.

  He drew back; his eyes were glued to mine. He was careful not to look down at the bruising Charkov had left on my neck. “Are we going to talk about it?”

  I sipped my bourbon. “It?”

  “Brooke.” He angled his head.

  I set my glass on the table beside me, then shifted in the seat and sat up. I had ditched the arm sling, but I was still being very careful not to use the shoulder I’d injured. I lifted my hand and laid it on his cheek. “I love you. That hasn’t changed. And it never will.”

  He leaned into my touch; relief spread into his features, and his eyes closed.

  “I definitely don’t say the words often enough. I will try to do better.”

  His eyes opened.

  “I told the FBI I killed Sergei Charkov, because that’s what happened.”

  His brows furrowed, casting a shadow over his eyes. “I would have killed him. I intended to. And I would make the decision again. He would have killed you had I not killed him first.”

  “Declan, I’m law enforcement. You aren’t. I’m not saying you didn’t have a reason to kill that evil terrorist. You did, and there likely wouldn’t have been any repercussions once everything was sorted out.” I reached for my bourbon again and took a sip. “But they would have come after you so hard if they thought you—a civilian—had killed Charkov. Your businesses would suffer, and they would never leave us alone. I did what I did to protect you, just like you would have taken Charkov’s life to protect me.”

  “What about your father?”

  “What about him? You think he would have covered for you? He wouldn’t have been able to. He barely protected me.”

  “I already guessed that. How are you feeling about him?”

  I shrugged, then looked out as lightning strobed the sky in sequence, followed by a clap of thunder that vibrated for several seconds. A tear slid down my face, and I swiped it away before I met Declan’s gaze again. “My father is who he is. He’s the director of the FBI. And until that changes, that’s who he has to be. I accepted that a long time ago.”

  That seemed to suffice for Declan. He swallowed a big slug of bourbon—a liquor meant for sipping.

  “One thing you never told me,” I said. “How did you figure out a way into the estate? There were so many men with guns in the house.”

  “Believe it or not, Romeo.”

  “What?”

  “He texted your phone. He knew we had it. And he somehow knew that the men stationed at one of the back doors were drunk.”

  I shook my head. “Eventually, I’m going to find out how he knows so much.”

  Declan placed a finger over my lips. “No more talk of Romeo tonight. As a matter of fact, I want you to promise me you won’t go looking for him on your own. Promise me that, and then let’s not talk about him until we’re sober again.”

  I laughed. “I promise.”

  “Seriously? You promise? Not an ‘I’m drunk, but I promise,’ but an actual, ‘I promise’?”

  “I promise not to look for Romeo on my own. I will ask for help.”

  Declan smiled, but as he did, I couldn’t stop the sadness that passed over me.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’m just so afraid that this isn’t the life you asked for. You don’t deserve the danger or the drama I bring into your life.”

  Declan moved so that he could lean back in the lounge chair. He put his arm around me, gathered me close, and kissed the top of my head. “I love you. You are in my life to stay. This is your home.”

  I wanted to argue with him, tell him that he just couldn’t use those words that carried a weight of permanence. I would never hold him to those promises. I started to say something, but he continued.

  “Brooke, I need to say something, and I don’t want you to say anything back. Promise?”

  “More promises?” But his voice was so serious that I immediately nodded. “Okay, I promise.”

  “I want you to marry
me.”

  My body tensed, and I started to push away. He held me tighter against him. “I don’t want an answer from you tonight or even tomorrow. I just want you to know that I wish to make you my wife. That I plan to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you at my side.”

  We sat there in silence, listening to the thunder and the rain that had just begun to fall. A light spray of moisture hit my feet, telling me it was time to seek shelter, but neither of us moved.

  And I smiled in the darkness.

  * * *

  ***

  You’ve reached the end of Covered in Darkness. Keep scrolling for the first three chapters of Shot in Darkness, or simply CLICK HERE to start reading immediately.

  Also, if you’d like a free novella that’s for newsletter subscribers only, flip to the next page for details.

  A Note from the Author

  Thank you for reading Covered in Darkness. I hope you have enjoyed more of Brooke, Declan, Dimitri, and yes, even Romeo. And I hope you’ll stay tuned… There is so much more of your favorite characters coming in Shot in Darkness, the fourth book in the In Darkness series.

  * * *

  Flip the page to see an excerpt to Shot in Darkness, or CLICK HERE to download the next book in the In Darkness series now.

  * * *

  NOW… Who likes free books? If you’d like to hear about future releases, click here to sign up on my website for new release notifications via my newsletter, and I will send you Protected in Darkness, a special In Darkness novella (and sequel to Cut in Darkness) for FREE.

  * * *

  Thank you for your support!

  * * *

  Heather Sunseri

  Shot in Darkness

  In Darkness Book Four

  Shot in Darkness - Book Description

  Intelligence analyst and former FBI special agent Brooke Fairfax is on the run. Not from anything sinister, but from her past. She’s hiding from Declan O’Roark after he proposed a question she simply wasn’t ready to answer. She finds solitude in Washington D.C. where she struggles to reconcile her feelings about her late husband and a possible future with Declan. Within hours, Declan tracks her down, desperate to save the relationship.

  * * *

  After establishing a tenuous truce, Brooke and Declan meet a suspicious man outside a Georgetown neighborhood bar. Terror begins to unfold just as Brooke realizes the man’s intentions. But what appears to be yet another random shooting spree turns out to be a highly targeted act. Brooke’s and Declan’s lives will be changed forever — if they’re lucky enough to escape.

  * * *

  CLICK HERE to download Shot in Darkness, or keep scrolling to read the first three chapters.

  Chapter 1

  Bradley Archer

  I checked and double-checked the contents of the trunk of my BMW M5: Glock, Heckler & Koch PSG semiautomatic sniper rifle, ammunition (three clips for the Glock). I was still waiting on what I needed for the H&K, but I had checked this morning: it would be here in time.

  My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my back pocket. My mother, calling for the fourth time that hour. I ignored it, again.

  My nosy neighbors came walking along the alley behind my house, pushing a stroller. “Hi, Bradley,” the woman sang in her annoying southern accent. “How are you doing tonight?”

  She was dressed in yoga pants, a hot pink sweater set, and pearls. I was willing to bet she’d never stepped foot inside a yoga studio. And who went for a walk in pearls?

  “It’s such beautiful evening, isn’t it?” she added when I didn’t respond.

  Her husband smiled uncomfortably beside her. Why couldn’t he put a muzzle on his wife?

  I lifted a hand and waved. “I’m good, thank you.” I flashed them a smile that got me laid most nights, then muttered under my breath, “You stupid bitch. Why don’t you mind your own business?”

  “Hey, man.” The husband started toward me, and I very slowly lowered the lid to my trunk. “I’m having some of the guys from work over to watch some football tomorrow night. You’re welcome to join us.”

  His wife giggled while touching a manicured hand to her husband’s arm. “We’re making more of an effort to get to know everyone on the street.”

  How did they not realize that I didn’t even know their names? We’d been neighbors for more than a year, yet I’d never been to their house, and the only time they’d been to mine was the day after I moved in, when the nosy woman—eight months pregnant at the time and bigger than an elephant—had pushed her way into my kitchen to deliver a disgusting-smelling casserole that I was shoving down the garbage disposal before she even made it back to the sidewalk.

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you, but I already have plans.”

  “Oh. Well, all right, bro,” the clueless husband said. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us.” He pointed down the street, giving me no idea which house they actually lived in.

  Whatever was in the stroller fussed, and the woman knelt in front of it and adjusted the blanket. “Looks like somebody’s hungry,” she said in a voice that was supposed to be… I don’t know… cute or something. It annoyed the hell out of me.

  She picked up the kid and patted it gently on the back.

  “We better get going,” the man said regretfully.

  Sorry son of a bitch was so whipped he didn’t know which way was up. I almost felt sorry for him. If I didn’t already have plans to teach some other stupid bitch a lesson, I still wouldn’t have gone to his insignificant party tomorrow night.

  I waved to them as the woman carried away the brat in her arms. The sorry excuse for a man followed behind her, pushing the stroller like a good little domestic slave.

  After locking my car, I turned and entered the house. It was time to talk to my mom one last time. Just in case tomorrow night’s assignment went terribly wrong.

  Chapter 2

  Brooke

  I pulled down the back alley and into the small driveway where Ty and his partner, James, had lived the past couple of years. Off-street parking was highly coveted in Georgetown, the wealthy and historic neighborhood of Washington, DC, but Ty and James had managed to find a townhouse with a two-car garage in foreclosure. They then spent the next two years completely renovating the property.

  Thankfully, since I had agreed to house- and dog-sit while they took a two-week vacation to Key West, they had vacated one of the parking spots for me.

  Key West wouldn’t have been my first choice of vacation spots, but it didn’t matter where those two went. They just wanted to spend time together.

  I parked my car in the garage and grabbed my bag from the back seat. I had brought very little with me, because other than a couple of meetings, all I planned to do was curl up in their basement cinema room, watch Netflix, and order takeout for two weeks.

  “Hello,” I called as I entered through the garage.

  “Brooke,” Ty called back. “Get your tiny little ass up here. We need help deciding.”

  “Deciding what?” I asked as I climbed the stairs to the open-concept living, dining, and kitchen areas. When I got to the top, I stopped short. “Oh, dear.”

  I lifted my hand and covered an uncomfortable smile. Their two English bulldogs—Thurston and Lovey—hopped down from a chair to sniff my feet.

  “See,” James said. “Look at her face. She agrees with me.”

  “She does not. Do you?” Ty squared his shoulders. “Tell us the truth. What do you think?”

  “I… I don’t know what to say.” I knelt to rub the dogs’ heads while I studied Ty’s full-length wetsuit. It was in neon shades of orange, pink, and lime green. “It’s definitely bright. The sharks are going to love you.”

  Ty narrowed his eyes at me. “And you’re supposed to be my best friend.” He turned on his heel and stormed off down a hallway.

  I straightened. “Oh, come on,” I called after him, trying like hell to suppress my laughter.

  “I’m so glad
you’re here.” James walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a hug, then released me. “Now… Both fridges are stocked.”

  “Both?”

  “Well, yeah. The regular and the wine fridge.”

  “I knew you guys loved me.”

  He held out a moleskin notebook. “We’ve left you meticulous notes on everything. You’ve got numbers for all the best restaurants that deliver, and the ones with takeout in case you want to walk.” He flipped a page. “If you have any trouble with the dogs, there’s a number for the vet, the backup vet, the dog walker, the doggie spa, and their trainer.”

  “Wait… Your dogs have a spa and a trainer? I just might move in here permanently and let you guys take care of me.”

  “Girl, I think you’re doing just fine back in Kentucky with your own beautiful specimen of a man.” He slapped my arm playfully. “How is Declan?”

  I motioned toward the notebook. “Keep going.” Declan was not a subject I wanted to discuss.

  Frankly, I was pretty sure I had ruined everything with Declan. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had been doing his best to convince me to take whatever “thing” we had going a step further.

  I was already living with him. Why wasn’t that enough? I wasn’t convinced he understood what a long-term relationship—a life—with me would be like. Didn’t he get that I would make him miserable? That I would never stop searching for the identity of Romeo, my own personal stalker and confidential human source, or for the truth of what had happened to my late husband—a truth I was convinced Romeo knew?