Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set

Home > Contemporary > Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set > Page 6
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 6

by Lani Lynn Vale


  There was just something about the man that gave me the ‘back off, I’m a dangerous fucker’ vibe.

  Although, Luke emitted that vibe, too. Just a slightly altered version of it. More like a ‘back off I’m a dangerous fucker, but if you need me, I’ll be here,’ kind of vibe.

  Luke’s co-worker, Nico…not so much. I’d be more likely to run away from him rather than toward him.

  “Hey, baby. If it’s all right, I’m going to take a bathroom break,” my mother said to Rowen, who immediately declared that she ‘needed to pee something fierce.’

  Instead of walking to the table, I watched as my mother and daughter walked hand in hand to the bathroom, both swinging their hands like they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “That’s some look you have,” I heard from behind me.

  I shivered slightly, hoping he didn’t catch it. When I turned around, though, I knew he had.

  And his smile was cocky, saying he knew exactly what he did to me.

  “How would you know my look when my back was to you?” I asked suspiciously.

  He lifted his finger and pointed at the mirror above me, causing me to sigh. “I bet you’re one of those people who knows everything, aren’t you?”

  “My sister says I play devil’s advocate just for shits and giggles,” he laughed.

  I scrunched up my nose at him. “That doesn’t shock me at all, to be truthful.”

  He winked at me.

  “I didn’t realize the connection until I saw you. But the last name makes sense now. And you coming from Shreveport. I didn’t know you were Frank Doherty’s daughter, though. He gives a lot of conferences that I attend for my continuing education for my fire certification,” he explained.

  I rolled my eyes. “My daddy’s pretty well known in the Ark-La-Tex. He used to be the fire marshal for the area way back before I was born. He’s kept the contacts, though.”

  “Do you mind telling me what you do? I’ve been told you were SWAT, but I saw you arresting that man and woman the other day, and then, you know, two days ago. Neither one of those were SWAT situations from what I heard,” I said.

  He didn’t comment on the reminder of shooting someone two days prior. And I felt like shit immediately after bringing it up.

  He didn’t flinch at answering my question, though, which was good. Maybe it wasn’t bothering him like it was the other day. One could hope, anyway.

  He sat down on the barstool nearest us and took a swig of his beer before answering.

  “Regular duties as a patrol officer. On a day to day basis, I do what any other officer you see in the cop car does. I write tickets. I respond to anything that fire responds to. However, on the rare occasion that the SWAT team’s needed, we get pulled in. Some of us are off. Some of us are working. We all respond to the station and get dressed in our SWAT gear. From there we respond to the call,” he explained.

  “I never would’ve known,” I murmured, sitting down on the chair directly beside him.

  He shrugged, his shoulder brushing mine, and tiny sparks started to shoot down my arm.

  Then his thigh moved, running up the length, and his arm moved to the back of my chair.

  That’s about when my libido started to run rampant, and my thoughts stopped being interested, and they started to move toward need. Pure, raw need.

  Oh, man. I needed to get out of here before I did something stupid like fuck the man.

  “Well,” I said, standing abruptly. “My sister’s calling my name.”

  He caught the lie for what it was, and I caught his grin when I looked over my shoulder. His expression told me he was allowing me to run. That, eventually, when he felt like it, he’d catch me. Then we’d both be screwed. Literally.

  ***

  “What the fuck is going on?” I yelled as soon as I came out of the bathroom. “Where is my sister?”

  I tried to follow the crowd, but two large arms threaded around my waist and pulled me back, holding me captive.

  I was confused.

  I’d been going to the bathroom with my sister, but she’d stopped, and I’d continued.

  When I’d gone back out to the bar looking for Tru, I couldn’t find her. After dropping Rowen off with my father, who’d volunteered to take her home with him, I asked Grayson if he’d seen her. Things started to happen. Everybody started to move all at once. The place practically exploded in activity, and I was left wondering what in the hell was going on.

  I’d tried to follow my mother and Grayson outside, wondering just what in the hell was going on, but those arms had stopped me.

  I knew who they belonged to.

  That didn’t help my anxiety right now, though.

  “Let me go. What’s going on?” I asked, wiggling to no avail.

  Luke had an iron tight grip on my waist, and he wasn’t letting me go.

  Which was good, because when I heard the shots going off, my legs went weak, and Luke cursed, pulling me back until I was behind him.

  His large body held dual purpose. He kept me shielded from whatever threat there was, and also held me up.

  I wasn’t sure if he knew he was holding me up, but he was.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered fiercely.

  My hands found their way under his shirt, and somehow I found myself clutching his belt, hand resting next to a gun he had at the small of his back.

  He didn’t stiffen, only leaned into me further as we watched the panicked crowd.

  One overly frantic man ran toward the bar, trying to go out through the kitchen when Silas stepped in front of him, grabbed him by the head, and spoke to him in low tones.

  The man instantly froze, and then went limp with relief.

  When Silas let the man go, he slowly walked over to the tables where I’d seen him at some point in the night and sat.

  I knew he wasn’t a cop.

  No cop I knew would’ve reacted like that, and I had to wonder what he was doing there.

  But my mind was quickly recaptured by my mother who came in looking supremely pissed.

  When I tried to go to her, Luke pushed back, effectively pinning me in place.

  “Give her some time, honey. Something is going on, and she needs to worry about whatever happened, not her kid,” Luke soothed me.

  I let my head drop against his back.

  His arm dropped down and he patted the outside of my thigh, like he would a spooked horse.

  But it did reassure me, and I closed my eyes, trying to straighten out my thoughts.

  Twenty grueling minutes later, after seeing that my sister was fine, I wanted nothing more than to go home and forget everything that had happened in the last half hour.

  Thank freakin’ God I’d sent my daughter home with my father.

  That would’ve been a nightmare.

  In reality, it was one of my biggest fears, not being able to protect my daughter.

  Which should be any parent’s first concern.

  “This isn’t’ really how I saw my first night off in months going,” Luke rumbled.

  I snorted. “Wasn’t how I expected mine to go, either. At least I don’t have to work in the morning. I can see this being a really long night.”

  He turned, crowding me close and winked. “I’ll be spending it with you.”

  I blushed, feeling the hard line of his body now that I was more aware.

  And my thoughts went right back to where they were earlier. Hot and needy.

  Then, while my inhibitions were clouded, he kissed me.

  And I’d never felt anything more exciting in my life.

  Chapter 8

  There’s bitchy, and then there’s a bitch. They’re two different things. Trust me.

  -Truth

  Reese

  Men fucking sucked.

  I hit the punching bag with a closed fist, swinging it eight inches forward.

  When it swung back, I hit it again, and agai
n.

  “Stupid.” Punch. “Fucking.” Punch. “Men.” Punch.

  I kept at it until my arms resembled the consistency of a limp noodle, and my arms wouldn’t raise up at my command anymore.

  That’s when I started on the knee strikes, and kicks. Repeating the process on both legs, over and over again, until the oxygen was heaving in and out of my lungs like a steam engine.

  Sweat was pouring down my face, and into my eyes, burning them.

  Swiping my arm up over my eye, I wiped off the sweat and decided I wasn’t tired enough.

  There was no way I’d be able to sleep tonight if I was still able to walk.

  Not after the day I’d had.

  My stupid ex.

  He sure knew how to ruin my life.

  He’d done it quite a few times already.

  Today’s conversation was no different.

  ***

  Three hours earlier

  He showed up unannounced, of course on his designated weekend, and knocked on my front door.

  I hadn’t told him where we were moving to. He’d changed his number, and I’d had no way to contact him to tell him where we were going.

  So he either had to have contacted my family for the new address, or he had to have greased some palms to get the information.

  My bet was on the latter.

  Weston Bryant was a Casanova of epic proportions. Otherwise he’d have never gotten into my pants.

  “Can we talk?” he asked, not even bothering to ask where Rowen was.

  I nodded and stepped outside, slipping out the door so he couldn’t see in.

  I never allowed Weston inside our house.

  It was a happy place, and I didn’t want his stench inside of it. Even if it was only mental.

  “Sure,” I said warily. “What’s up?”

  “I’m filing for joint custody of Rowen,” he said without preamble.

  I blinked at him stupidly for a few seconds before I could get my mouth to work.

  “What do you mean you’re filing for custody?” I asked quietly.

  He scowled at me. “It means that I’m tired of having to tell your lawyers how much money I make. They’re actually going to make me pay this time. And all the back pay I owe. They’re holding my checks. I can’t live on no money. And my wife wants to get to know her step kid.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “You’re married?” I gasped.

  He glared at me, offended that I had such a reaction to the thought of him finding anybody.

  “Yes,” he snapped. “For four months. We even have a baby due.”

  That made my heart hurt. Not only for Rowen, but for the innocent child who had to have this asshole as a father.

  Hopefully the mother was more reliable than Weston was; it was more than obvious that she wasn’t smart. Otherwise she wouldn’t have married Weston.

  “But Weston, I didn’t file anything with the lawyers. I never said a word. This is the first time I’ve heard anything about holding your pay,” I said nervously.

  If he filed for custody, he could win.

  He was married and had a family. I didn’t.

  And he was charming, where I was anything but.

  “Well you sure did something, ‘cause they’re taking my checks. It’s ruining my life,” he yelled.

  I backed away from him, surprised at the outburst. Out of all the times I’d been around my ex, I’d never heard him raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He was a sweet talker. His silver tongue got him everything he wanted.

  And Weston yelling was an intimidating sight.

  Weston was tall. Nearly six foot three. Although he wasn’t bulky with muscle like Luke was, he wasn’t a slouch, either.

  So for him to crowd me and yell in my face like he was doing now, I started to get nervous, like any smart woman would do.

  “I’m sorry, Weston. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t file those charges. But you know you wouldn’t like Rowen staying with you. That’s why you only ever keep her for the day instead of overnight, remember? If you file for custody, you’ll have her half the time,” I tried.

  He scowled. “Well, starting tonight, I’m going to take her with me every other weekend like I’m allowed. We’ll see about the rest when it happens. Where is Rowen?”

  Every cell in my body screamed at me not to allow her to go, but there was a court order that said Weston had Rowen every other weekend, and each Wednesday afternoon. If he wanted her, I had no legal recourse to keep her. Not unless Weston terminated his rights.

  Which I should know, because I’d researched the hell out of it, not wanting her to go with him. I’d been told by a lawyer friend of mine that if I tried to keep her away from her father, I’d be held in contempt of court, which would not look good if Weston started doing what he’d just threatened to do.

  ***

  Which led me to now, hours later, trying to work myself into oblivion.

  That was the only way I’d get my mind to turn off.

  I had a billion things swirling through my mind, and I wished it wasn’t a holiday weekend. Otherwise I’d be able to call and talk with a lawyer tomorrow, instead of four days from now.

  Slipping the gloves from my hands, I tossed them on the freezer beside the punching bag and slipped through the garage door, and then out the gate.

  It was dark, and I was glad. I was crying, and I didn’t know how to stop.

  Once my feet hit the pavement of the road beside my house, I started to run, no real designation in mind.

  I just knew this was about to turn into a disaster. A huge, clusterfuck of epic proportions.

  There was no way I could let Weston have her half the time. I wouldn’t survive.

  Not to mention she’d have to go to two different schools in two different states.

  Would they make me move back to Shreveport if he was able to get half custody?

  Would he have to move here?

  Would the judge make it to where half the year she was with me, and half the year she was with him?

  That sounded god-awful.

  I’d never been away from her for more than a day at a time since she was born five years ago.

  I kept my pace, running hard, full out. Feeling the burn stretch my muscles.

  Somehow, I wound up in town, nearly two and a half miles from my house.

  I kept my pace, running along the sidewalk until I wound up at a dead end in front of the playground that I took Rowen to on the weekends.

  That’s when I stopped. Or more like collapsed.

  My knees hurt, letting me know I wasn’t eighteen anymore, and doing this to my body wasn’t a good thing.

  I sat on the park bench, bending forward until my elbows rested on my knees, gasping for breath.

  I couldn’t tell if it was because I was tired, or because I was crying. Either way, though, I was being really loud.

  I hadn’t been aware that anyone was there with me until I heard the crunch of the pea gravel under the soles of someone’s feet.

  I whirled, coming face to face with the man I’d seen respond during the movie theater fiasco a few weeks ago.

  Nico, is what Luke had called him.

  He looked no less fierce tonight than he had then. In fact, in the twilight sun, he looked even more intimidating, and I decided that the name Nico suited him perfectly well.

  “Hey,” I said, wiping my tears.

  He never took his eyes off of me. “Yo. You okay?”

  I nodded, embarrassed that I’d had the police called on me. “Yeah. Been a rough day.”

  I stood to leave, and walked past him, or tried to. His arm shot out and stopped me once I made it to the chain link fence.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  His hand felt warm against my skin, and I realized that it’d gotten chilly in the last half hour since the sun started to set.

  “Home?” I asked qu
estioningly.

  He scowled at me. “I’ll take you.”

  I don’t know why I went with him so easily. All I could say is that I’d had a long ass day, and I was tired of fighting it. To be truthful, it was nice to have someone to talk to who didn’t care if I cried or not. My family would’ve asked questions, and I just didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet, anyway.

  He tilted his head toward the cruiser that was parked at the street behind me, and I shrugged.

  My legs did feel noodle-ish.

  Except when I got in the car with him, he didn’t take me home. He took me to the station.

  “This isn’t my house,” I observed as he pulled up to a back door I’d never seen before.

  He gave me a level look but didn’t say anything.

  Instead hopping out and punching a few keys into a keypad at the back door.

  When he gave me a look, I ascertained that he wanted me to follow him.

  I looked down at the black capri pants and sleeveless white t-shirt that declared me a ‘Beta Kappa” and shrugged.

  I was curious, though, where he was taking me.

  And I had my answer short moments later when he led me through a maze of hallways, stopping at a door that I couldn’t quite catch the name on before I was unceremoniously shoved into a room.

  The door slammed behind me, and I stared in shock at Luke, whose eyebrows were raised high above his eyes in surprise.

  “H-hey,” I said.

  Chapter 9

  Scream. Yell. Pinch. Kick. All of that is fine. Just don’t cry. If you cry, then I start feeling punchy. And nobody likes it when I start feeling punchy.

  -Luke to Reese

  Luke

  The scanner at my desk squawked, and I listened as a call went out about a woman sounding distressed in the park.

  That one should be fun.

  Not.

  However, anything would be better than sitting on my ass like I was doing now.

  “I’m beyond fucking tired of listening to this. Either let me get back out there, or not. But make something happen. I’m tired of being in limbo,” I spat through clenched teeth.

  The IA officer looked at me sternly for a few long moments before she started to leave.

  She stopped once she had the door open, looking over her shoulder at me.

 

‹ Prev