by Desiree Holt
“Nothing,” Grey interrupted. “You’ll pay me nothing.”
“But—”
“When you finish your tour, I’m hoping you’ll join Omega. I wasn’t kidding about that. But even if it’s after yet another tour, I count you as part of the family. Your money’s no good.”
Hawkeye knew better than to argue with him.
“I’m not letting her go back to school this afternoon,” he told Grey. “We need a strategy session to keep her safe and put this to bed.”
“You calling the cops?”
“Not yet.” Hawkeye hadn’t been at all happy with the way they’d handled things so far. “They didn’t believe her any of the times she called, and I’m sure they wouldn’t believe her now. We’ll bring them in after the hard work is done.”
“I suggest you bring her here to our offices after you meet her at noon.”
“I hope she believes me.” Hawkeye wasn’t at all sure that would be the case. If he was in Maddie’s situation, he’d probably be in total denial.
“We need to strategize,” Grey pointed out. “And she needs to be part of this, whether you like it or not.”
“Crap.”
He ground his teeth in frustration. He found himself in a most unlikely position. He had a mantra—no close associations, no long term relationships, no romantic entanglements. Others had managed, but he hadn’t believed he could. He had one focus—being a Delta Force team member. Once that was over, he’d worry about the rest of his life.
But he’d taken one look at Maddie Winslow, and all his good resolutions went to hell, right out the window. Five seconds after he walked into Gretchen LeBeau’s house and saw her, he’d had the mother of all boners. He was more than glad he’d worn a jacket that covered it. As the hours passed with her, it didn’t get any better. Not even a workout in his home gym could get his craving for her out of his system.
Last night, he’d done what he’d told himself not to do—gotten involved with the woman under his protection. Never mix business with pleasure. As part of the teams, he’d engaged in hostage rescue, protection detail, various activities that involved close quarters with beautiful, sexy women. None of them had appealed to him except in the most superficial way.
Maddie Winslow was a different case altogether. She hit right in the gut. Last night had only confirmed what he’d feared—he wanted her with every breath, and not just in bed. Maybe he’d only known her for a couple of days, but the invisible connection between them was too strong to ignore. His problem was where to go with it once this was over. He had always been a loner. He’d seen team members die in the field and leave loved ones at home destroyed by it. He had always told himself he couldn’t do that, and nothing had happened to change his mind. If anything, the thought of Maddie wasting her life mourning him made him even more resolute.
So, what the fuck was he to do?
“Hawkeye?” Grey’s voice penetrated his fog. “You still with me?”
“I’m here. She gets her lunch break at noon. I’ll bring her over then.”
And hope she could understand and absorb what he had to tell her.
*****
“I don’t believe it.” Maddie leaned back in the chair in Grey Holden’s office, hands gripped together to keep them from shaking. “You’ve made some kind of mistake.”
“I wish that was the case,” Grey told her. “Believe me.”
She stared at the array of paperwork laid out before her and willed herself not to pass out. In her wildest imagination, nothing like this had ever occurred to her.
“Can you please go over it again?” she asked. “I want to be sure I understand.”
“Of course.”
Maddie leaned forward in her chair, suddenly conscious Hawkeye had reached for her hand and enfolded it in his big one.
I’m here for you. It will be okay.
She wanted to tell him she didn’t think anything would ever be okay again.
Grey cleared his throat.
“When there was absolutely no history of your family prior to thirty years ago, it raised a red warning flag. We’ve run into this before, people changing names, identities, for a variety of reasons.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” she protested, her stomach knotting with tension.
“When we checked the social security numbers for both of your parents, we discovered they were issued exactly thirty years ago, on the same day. Now, it’s possible that they both had jobs before that. So what names did they work under? What happened to those numbers?”
“B-but what about birth certificates?” She made a desperate effort to keep herself from falling apart.
“All in order.” Grey slid copies of them across the desk. “But they can be faked, like any other forms of identification.”
“Bear with me.” He put the drivers’ license photos of her parents side by side. “Jacqui is really good at facial manipulation, even with photos as poor as these. She cleaned them up and then reverse aged them. With clean headshots, she ran them through every database she could get into. And, believe me, I don’t think there’s one she can be locked out of.”
“I see.” Maddie wet her lips, grateful Hawkeye had hold of her hand.
“Maddie, how about some coffee,” he interrupted. “Grey, can we get her a cup? She looks like she’s about to pass out.”
“Of course. Cream or sugar?”
She shook her head. “Neither.”
“Okay. I’ll get it.”
When he had left the room, Maddie looked at Hawkeye. “This is a nightmare I don’t think I’ll wake up from.”
“I’ll be right here with you until we get this cleaned up,” he assured her.
She was about to say something else, but Grey returned with coffee for all of them. She took a sip of the hot liquid, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and nodded.
“So then what?” she asked. “Can we cut right to the chase? Who are these people? My parents.”
“Thirty years ago, a young couple named Hope and Scott Bassett were getting into their car in a darkened restaurant parking lot when they witnessed Chicago crime lord Gus Scalzo murder a man. Scalzo normally didn’t get his own hands dirty, but this was a personal kill for him.
Shock gripped her. “Oh my god!”
“Terrified,” Grey went on, “they drove home and locked themselves in the house. They watched the late news and learned the victim was a young attorney who left a wife and child. Despite their fear, they did the right thing and contacted the police.”
“The rest,” Hawkeye added, “as they say, is history. They were sequestered in a safe house both before and during the trial then relocated through Witness Protection. Given new identities, a new situation in a new location.”
“So Winslow isn’t even their real name?” Maddie was still trying to take it all in.
“No, but we’ll get to that. What triggered this situation with you, Maddie, was the news coverage of your act of bravery at your school. You look so much like your mother. Almost identical to how she looked at your age. Vincent Scalzo’s son saw it and went bananas.”
Maddie felt sick, the hot coffee tasting sour in her mouth.
“People have always said I look exactly like my mother.”
Grey dipped his head in agreement. “Scalzo sent two of his thugs here to find you and try to trace your parents. He’d sworn to kill them for putting his father in prison for life.”
Maddie looked at Hawkeye. “So, what do we do now?”
“You need to be in a safe place until we can lay hands on these people,” Grey told her. “We have a couple of safe houses we use for our clients when needed. I suggest—”
“My house is safer than anything you can put her in,” Hawkeye interrupted. “I’ll put my alarm system up against anyone’s, and you know I have enough arms to fight a small war.”
Maddie dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t believe any of this is happening to me. I— What about my job? My life?”
&n
bsp; Hawkeye had been holding her hand throughout this and now he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“We’ll identify these guys and go from there.”
“But how will you identify them? They aren’t going to come up to the door and introduce themselves.”
Grey’s mouth curved in a tiny smile. “That’s true. We need to bait them to get them out in the open.”
“And what about my parents?” she cried. “If they know my last name, they—”
“Can’t check people named Winslow in all fifty states,” Hawkeye broke in. He looked at Grey. “But I do think the U. S. Marshals need to be brought in on this. Find out who the Winslows’ contact is, and we’ll go from there.”
“You think they’ve already found them?” Maddie was sure she was going to throw up.
“No.” Grey shook his head. “I think that’s what your run-ins with them have been about. If they can grab you, they can force you to give up the address.”
“Never.” Maddie shook her head. “I never would.”
“Or hold you hostage,” Grey added, “until your parents agree to an exchange.”
“They can’t do that.” Panic gripped her.
“Maddie, look at me.” Hawk used his free hand to turn her face toward him. “You’d never hold out against them, I promise you.”
“Then how are we going to catch them?” she cried. “Oh god.”
“Grey and I will do some brainstorming about that. Meanwhile, you need to call your parents, we need to get in touch with the U.S. Marshals, and I need to get you back to the house.”
“B-but I have school,” she protested. “I have to—”
“Call your principal and tell him you were suddenly taken ill. You won’t be back for a few days.”
“I can’t. I—”
“Have no choice,” Grey finished for her. “Think about the kids. Think about how your being there might endanger them. What if these people show up at the school?”
Hawk took both of her hands in his, squeezing them for reassurance. “It’s your life here, Maddie. Let us save it.”
By the time they left The Omega Team headquarters, Maddie was sick to her stomach and thoroughly shaken.
“A lot of things make sense to me now,” she told Hawkeye. “They were always so overprotective. When I went off to college, they really pushed me to enroll at the University of Texas. And they nearly had a cow when I told them I was moving to Tampa.”
“They wanted you where they could protect you,” he acknowledged.
“I get it now. And also why they always led such a quiet life. And why they were so frantic when my face showed up on national television.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “I need to call them.”
“Maybe you should wait until Grey gets hold of whatever Marshal is now assigned to them.”
“No,” she insisted. “They should hear it from me.”
“Okay. Let’s get back to my place first. You need to call the school, and you should eat some lunch.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I could eat a bite of food right now.”
“Then some soup. This is no time to get sick.”
She wanted to tell him this wasn’t something lunch could fix. She wanted to hide under the covers and pretend none of this was happening. But, most of all, she wanted to wake up and find out this had all been a huge mistake.
Chapter Six
Hawkeye disconnected his call and turned to Maddie who was sitting at the counter pretending to eat the soup he’d heated.
“Grey has come up with some strategic points to see if we can move this along.” He sat down on the stool next to her. “I think we can make this work.”
At least I hope to fuck we can.
“Did he talk to the Marshals yet?” she asked.
“Yes. The original ones have long since retired, of course.”
She frowned. “So does that mean no one has been watching out for my parents?”
“Not at all. But, keep in mind, this all happened thirty years ago. As far as the Marshals Service is concerned, the danger has long since passed.”
She set her spoon in the bowl. “So no one has been checking on them? Keeping an eye on them?”
“Grey said they don’t have the funding to constantly monitor people in the program. Every person has a number to call if something happens they think puts them in danger. The problem is, agents retire, or die, or move to another agency. So, while the phone number is good, they won’t necessarily reach the original Marshals. Especially after all this time.”
Maddie stared into the bowl. “So, what, they’re screwed? Is that it?”
Hawkeye shook his head. “No. As Marshals leave, the contact numbers get passed on to the next person who reviews their list then tucks it away. Of course….”
“Of course what?” Her breathing was so shallow he was afraid she was going to pass out.
“Everything now is computerized. Even with a lot of security protocols in place, it isn’t outside the realm of possibility a sophisticated hacker could crack the system.”
“Still….” She played with the spoon again. “They’d have to have a starting point, right?”
“And there are a lot of those.” He cupped her chin and turned her so she faced him. “Remember this. I am not going to let a thing happen to you. Or your parents. Believe that if you believe nothing else.”
She blew out a breath and sat back in her chair. “I’ll try. I’m just so…scared.”
“I know. But I promise I will protect you at all costs.”
Hawkeye skipped lunch, his own appetite down the drain. He managed to get Maddie to lie down, although she was sure she wouldn’t fall asleep. He was pouring another cup of coffee for himself when his phone rang. He looked at the readout. Grey.
“What have you got?”
“Nothing you’ll like.”
Hawkeye snorted. “That’s a nice nonspecific statement.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I called my guy in the Marshals Office for the Middle District of Florida. They had no idea the daughter of federally protected witnesses was living in Tampa.”
“Why would they?” Hawkeye shifted the phone to his other ear. “They don’t monitor closed cases for this long, right?”
“Right. Before he assigned the case to new Marshals, we discussed the entire situation. We agree the guys after her were sent by Scalzo. It also turns out Gus Scalzo has a number of outstanding warrants. He hardly ever leaves his home and then is careful not to get stopped. But Chicago doesn’t have the money to watch him twenty-four/seven.”
“What else? I know there’s something.”
Grey was silent on the other end for a long while. “Apparently, since the two yokels he sent couldn’t get the job done, Scalzo arrived here himself. He’s pissed off his goons haven’t grabbed Maddie yet.”
“He’s doing this with all those outstanding warrants?”
“Uh-huh. Remember, he’s been waiting thirty years for this.”
Hawkeye blew out a breath. “So as far as Maddie’s folks are concerned, the Marshals here will do what?” Hawkeye demanded. “I don’t trust anyone. I’d like to go out and find the fuckers and shoot them myself.”
“It will be up to us to protect Maddie while my people work on tracking down these two dirt bags.”
“She’ll be with me.” Hawkeye was firm about that. He didn’t plan to let her out of his sight. He had made a promise to Ghost, and he intended to keep it. He didn’t want to admit how important Maddie had become to him personally. That was a distraction, and he couldn’t let it happen. The one night with her had almost undone him.
“I figured as much. Okay. Let me get back to the Marshals and talk to the two guys now assigned to her. I haven’t touched base with them yet. I’ll keep you in the loop on everything. You keep Maddie glued to your side.”
“No problem there.”
After he disconnected, he paced the kitchen, restless. He had the feeling there was something
he could be doing. Something he should be doing. But he was damned if he could figure out what. He double checked all the alarm settings and verified the monitor feeds were working. He decided he’d get some additional sensors for outside, for the sidewalk and the driveway.
He had an itch at the back of his neck that bothered him. It was his signal something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Twice today, he’d thought he spotted a gray car tailing him, but he did some fancy lane switching and lost it. He’d chalk it up to his imagination, but in Delta Force you learned not to ignore anything. He was grateful Maddie was too shaken and preoccupied to notice anything. In the meantime, while she rested—at least he hoped she was resting—he prowled the house, checking all the windows and watching for traffic on his street.
Maddie.
Again he wondered what he was going to do when this was over. His shoulder was damn near healed. Before too many more days, he’d be cleared to return to active duty. Then he’d be off to god only knew where around the world. He could be sent on a mission anywhere from Afghanistan to Peru, doing anything from hostage rescue to hunting a terrorist leader to destroying a terrorist camp to…to whatever the big brass ordered them to do. It was what he was trained to do, and he was damn good at it.
Even if he got past the reluctance to have someone at home worrying about him, he was afraid he’d spend too much time thinking about her. She’d be a distraction when he least needed one. As disciplined as he was, he was still a normal male, and already Maddie invaded his thoughts too much, far more than she should as an assignment. He wondered how others did it. Some of his teammates were married—Wait. Married?—and it hadn’t affected how they did their job. But what if something happened to him? Would she want to stick around with a cripple? And he sure didn’t want to think about her mourning his death.
The job had been everything he was for so long. How in hell did others do it? Live a semi-normal life.
This morning he’d woken up hard as a spike, thinking about the night before. About her soft, warm body, her nicely rounded breasts with their stiffened nipples. The curve of her ass, the feel of her skin. And the taste of her, from her warm, silken mouth to her sweet, sweet pussy. The memory of her with her inner walls clamped down on him, her liquid bathing his rock-hard dick while he pounded into her, had sent him to the shower where he jacked off, pretending it was her hand holding him.