Night Break

by Carey Decevito

  CAREY DECEVITO

  Copyright © 2017 by Carey Decevito

  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.

  Decevito, Carey

  Night Break / Carey Decevito – ebook edition

  ISBN: 978-1-988806-00-6

  Cover photography by Eric David Battershell

  Cover Model David Wills

  Cover design by Clarisse Tan, CT Cover Creations

  Editing by Karen Hrdlicka

  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.

  and reviews.

  This book is available in print at most online retailers.

  Acknowledgements

  An author cannot be where they are without the movers and shakers that help make them who they are today.

  Eric—your talented eye behind that camera lens of yours has gifted me with so many covers over the last year and a half. Six to be exact! You managed to take David Wills, and transform him into the Dalton I always pictured for this book.

  David—thank you for your perfect portrayal of Dalton. I can’t believe you and Eric have braved the “ghetto” of Las Vegas for this shot. I’ll forever be in your debt.

  Clarise—here we are on series number two! Your amazing ability to take Eric’s work and transform it into a jaw-dropping cover will always astound me.

  Joanne—it hasn’t even been a year since we first crossed paths but girl, I’ve never been more grateful in meeting the industry’s least well-known, yet most well-connected person. You’ve been an amazing colleague, proofreader, beta…hell, a Jackie-of-all-trades really, and an even more amazing friend.

  Karen—we were brought together by Joanne, but you’ve also proven to be an amazing addition to my book team as my editor, and I love you just as much as those Oxford commas you like using my friend!

  Nick, Isabella & Addison—I could write all the books in the world, but none of what I do would mean a thing without you three at my back. My family means the world, and you make life brighter simply by being mine. I love you.

  Betas—a huge thank you to Joanne, Becky, Melissa, Kristine, Jessica, Pam, Christie, Shannon and Keri. You ladies rock!

  My dearest readers—I wouldn’t be where I’m at today without each and every one of you. I’m so grateful for your continuing support and encouragement, and I so do hope that you enjoy Dalton’s journey.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Epilogue

  Stay Tuned

  About the Author

  Connect with Carey

  Other Books by Carey

  Prologue

  Dalton

  One Year Ago…

  If I had to deliver that fucker’s obituary, this is how it would read:

  Rick Donnelly—Wannabe war hero, traitor, terrorist. May he burn in hell.

  In truth, he was the scum who managed to kidnap my friend Theo Lowell’s nephew, Jasper, then made off with the man’s woman, all for the sake of petty revenge and furthering his stance in organized crime.

  Now, he was nothing but a piece of shit, sprawled forward, split in half, and wedged between Warehouse Ten and the front end of Theo’s brother’s pickup truck.

  Dead.

  Collapsing to my back, Theo held onto his woman, Morgan, at my side. Allowing a long, drawn-out breath to escape, it helped ease the tension in my body as I dealt with the pain in my hand and leg. The damn bastard might be dead, but he did some damage before Morgan drove a truck straight through him. My shooting hand now had a hole through it, and since I was reaching for the gun in my ankle holster at the time, the fucking bullet managed to hit my bad knee.

  It’s over. Thank God for crazy-assed women, great friends…and random strangers.

  Jasper was safe.

  Morgan was safe.

  And Theo could settle into the life he thought he’d all but lost only hours before.

  Sounding on the verge of tears, he uttered, “Huss?”

  With our adrenaline dropping from the night’s festivities, I couldn’t blame his emotional state. The same gamut of emotions was reeling through me too, and I hadn’t had to track down two loved ones, nor had I had the displeasure of being held hostage, having to free myself, then do the same for the woman I loved. All this with some unknown cyber vigilante, who’d popped out of nowhere, to help him out. One we’d been forced to have blind faith in.

  I’m your girl, Mr. T.

  Yeah, Hussy was our girl tonight. Definitely.

  “Yeah?” she said through that voice distorter of hers.

  “Thank you.” Theo’s voice lodged in his throat, leaving the man incapable to add to his words.

  It took a few seconds to get a response, but when it came, albeit in that robotically masculine voice again, it was just as overwrought with the same jumble of emotion that Theo and I seemed to be experiencing. “You’re welcome, Mr. T,” she whispered.

  Hussy’s earlier concerned outburst to my being shot jumped to the forefront of my mind. This spurred me into action. I didn’t know why I felt compelled to reassure her, but I found myself unable to stop myself from doing it. Hussy wasn’t one of my team at Nightshade Security, yet tonight, she had come through for all of us. Despite never having met, a bond had been forged between the team, Hussy, and myself. Plus, I’ve always been one to listen to my gut, and it’s proven me right every time, so it was why I said what I did next.

  “Huss?” I managed.

  Her distorted voice caught. “Yeah?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I swallowed the ball of emotion that had made my voice come out sounding like gravel. “But I’m going to need your name, honey.”

  What I got next was an unaltered, breathless sounding, “Kip,” that made my lungs seize, my body tighten, and a part of my
anatomy take notice in a very visceral way.

  I had no idea who this woman was. She’d only spoken a single word—the nickname she’d given me based on my last name—Kippers. But that’s all I needed. I can’t explain the electrical charge that rolled through me, or the sense that something greater was at play. I simply needed more of that voice. I needed more of her. “I want to know—”

  I heard a subtle thump on the other end of the line, followed by a long sigh.

  I never thought that a sigh could hold so much untold emotion, but hers did.

  Exhaustion.

  Wistfulness.

  Hesitation.

  Defeat.

  Fear.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, and I could have sworn I’d heard her add a “please” to that. “Let’s just leave it at this.” I didn’t want to. A gnawing feeling in my gut told me that I needed her still; that I wanted her. “I only did what needed to be done. It’s what I do.”

  Something told me that pushing her right then would be ineffective, so I gave in, much to my displeasure. But I did it in a way that left the proverbial door open and the ball in her court. “Okay, Huss. If you ever need anything—”

  I could tell that she was contemplating my words. “I won’t.” The tone of finality in those words had disappointment weighing me down until she continued, “Tell you what, I’ll be in touch if something ever comes up.”

  Disappointment fled and hope took its place. This was as good as I was going to get. “Okay.”

  Silence dominated the next ten seconds before Hussy broke it. “I’m going to sign off now.”

  “Huss?” I was desperate and I didn’t care. I wanted to reach through the communication device shoved in my ear canal and yank her to where I lay, so I could see the face that belonged to the voice. I wanted to figure out why she was how she was, what made her tick, what set her off. Hell, I’d have been happy to wait out the medics and the slew of first responders with her voice in my ear, telling me everything was going to be okay, just like Theo was doing with Morgan.

  But before I could do or say anything, the line went dead, all coms were down, and sirens could be heard in the distance.

  I could feel Theo’s gaze aimed at the side of my face. He probably wanted to know what the fuck was going on with me.

  Ignoring the man, I thumped my head onto the dock in sheer frustration, and closed my eyes. “Bye, Huss,” I whispered.

  Chapter 1

  Devolin

  Present Day…

  Come on. Come on. Come on!

  “Come. On!” I bounced in place as I watched the progress bar run its course, and then punched the air in victory once it hit one-hundred-percent. “Gotcha!”

  Disconnecting the thumb drive from my laptop, and slamming the top down on it, I scooted out of bed and proceeded to stuff the lot into my satchel.

  There was no other option than to go straight to him.

  This was life or death, and everything hinged on what I did next. I’d long since made a promise to myself that I’d never risk making contact with the team I’d bonded with after one night of mayhem. But promise or not, this information I’d just dug up wasn’t something I could relay to him over the phone.

  It needed to be seen.

  Analyzed.

  Discussed.

  That meant that I needed to see Dalton Kippers. In the flesh. Talk to him. Show him what I’d found, what he was in for.

  Then, I needed to get far away from him, and move on already, because this crazy obsession I had developed over the man was getting out of hand. My best friend, Skylar, had told me as much on multiple occasions. And when Skylar deemed it fit to force her wisdom upon me, I needed to listen. It’s been nearly a year since I helped Dalton and his team rescue Jasper Lowell and Morgan Smyth for Christ’s sake!

  On a snort, I shrugged off where my thoughts were heading and closed my bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  The breath in my lungs seized. “Sky!” Hand clutched at my chest, I turned to face the woman, waiting for my erratic heartbeat to calm. “You scared the living shit out of me.”

  Skylar leaned against the doorjamb, dressed in wrinkled hot pink scrubs from a hard day’s work, smirking. “Well, at least we know one of us is capable of getting that ticker of yours up above a slow trot now, don’t we?” She breezed into the room, nodded toward my satchel, a glimmer of curiosity entering her gaze. “What’s going on?”

  I bit my bottom lip, knowing the guilt showed on my face for what I was about to ask of my dearest friend. Then I blurted, “Sky, I need your help.”

  “Do I need to worry that the cops will be coming in here to cart your ass off to jail?” she asked.

  “I need to get out of here for a few hours.”

  “Dev, you know I can’t—”

  “It’s life or death, Sky.”

  Skylar’s eyes widened. “Dev, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

  I headed toward the cabinet, that passed itself off as a closet, and grabbed the pair of jeans and t-shirt I’d been wearing when I had been admitted. My irritation at the lack of immediate support showed with each jerky movement I made. “Can you or can’t you help me out?” I turned to look at her from over my shoulder.

  Skylar crossed her arms over her chest, taking a seat in the chair closest to my hospital bed. “You look flushed. How’re you feeling, and tell me the truth.”

  Oh no, not that no-nonsense tone of hers. If I told my friend, who incidentally was a nurse, that I was feeling ‘off’ for lack of a better description, there’d be no way Skylar would let me walk out of there, say nothing of her covering for my absence with Doris, the nurse that was currently on duty. Damn woman was so old, she should have retired a decade ago, but seemed to find it amusing to torture her patients. That’s why Skylar and I had dubbed her Nurse Battle-Axe. Because of this, and the fact that I did need to get out of there, I went with, “I’m fine,” and hoped that my bad acting, let alone lying skills wouldn’t give me away.

  Unfortunately, the lack of conviction my words held, and the pause I had to take to brace myself against the wall to wait out the wave of dizziness that hit me, didn’t help my cause.

  “Uh-huh…”

  “I’m not kidding, Sky. I need to do this.” I whipped my pajama top off and flung it at the bed, slipping my shirt on. “This case…it’s big.”

  “Dev—”

  “No!” I persisted, yanking down my pajama bottoms, then headed to the bed for needed support. Leaning on it, I slid my legs into my jeans, wiggling them up over my ample hips. “He’s in danger, Sky.”

  Her eyes rounded as realization hit her. “He, as in he?” I nodded. “I thought we’d discussed this, Dev.” She sighed.

  “No, you discussed it. I merely listened. You told me to move on and I will. Just…” My frustration came out in a huff. “I have to see this through. It’s my fault he took this case in the first place, so by default, it’s my responsibility to make sure he knows what he’s heading into. The people he’ll be dealing with…” Another sigh accompanied my shake of the head. “They’re not good, Sky.”

  “Okay.” Skylar paused mid-thought. “Say I let you leave. How the hell am I supposed to keep Doris out of here?”

  “She knows you come in here after your shifts. She never bothers to check in on me when you’re here, you know that.”

  “So you want me to…?” She let her words hang so I could fill the gap.

  “I know it’s not right for me to ask this of you, but can you stay here, as in this room, until I get back?” Biting my lip in that nervous tick of mine, I continued, “And I’ll need your keycard.”

  “Devolin!” she scolded.

  Both of us looked toward the room’s door and listened for a short moment to see if Skylar’s outburst had generated some attention.

  “I’ll take the back way out and come in the same way. The emergency stairwell is just
outside that door.”

  “I can get fired for that,” she whisper-yelled, shooting the door another glance. Still, the woman pulled her access pass and handed it over.

  I snapped it up from her hand then shrugged. “Just say you lost it if anyone asks.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I love you, woman,” she grumbled.

  Knowing I had her where I wanted her, I grinned. “So you’ll help me out?”

  On a curt nod, Skylar got to her feet. “Yeah.” Her eyes did a full head to toe appraisal before she shared my smile. “But we need to do something about your hair and makeup first.”

  I blew out a relieved sigh, hoping my eyes conveyed my appreciation. I really would have left against hospital advice—sure, I’d return after my duty was done—because a life, if not lives, hung in the balance and it was all my fault.

  Sneaking out of my room, and down the stairwell, proved to be easy enough. Nurse Battle-Axe was out on the floor and away from the nurses’ station. Heading down two floors, I exited the stairs, and made my way toward the bank of elevators that would take me the rest of the way down to the main lobby. When I got there, I jumped in the first cab that I spotted, rattling off my home address.

  Upon my arrival, adrenaline running at an all-time high, I hurried to my vehicle. Finding it parked in its usual spot of my mother’s garage, I noticed the bay next to it was empty and thanked the powers up above that I wouldn’t have to deal with dear old Mom right away.

  Hitting the fob, I opened the door, dropped my bag on the passenger seat, then settled into the driver’s side.

  “Hello, baby,” I cooed to my newest acquisition, the leather upholstered finish and new car smell that had yet to fade, even after nearly a year of ownership.

  Hitting the button that would open my bay’s door from the controller on my visor, I put the key in the ignition and turned it. Sending my destination from my phone to the car’s GPS, I took a few short seconds to enjoy the purr of the Charger’s engine. Then I shifted my ride into reverse.

  Nightshade Security Investigations—Dalton’s company—was closed, so I made my way to the former corporal’s home to find that it too lacked the one man I was trying to locate. I did take the time to admire the two rockers on his front wraparound porch and the American flag hanging in a place of pride on one of the support pillars framing the steps.