Night Break

by Carey Decevito

  I hope I’m not too late.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Dalton had already skipped town. Just as quickly as that thought popped into my head, another followed it.

  Theo would know where he is.

  Reprogramming my GPS for Theo and Morgan’s place, I reared out of the drive and floored the gas pedal. Fifteen minutes later, my lead foot caused me to nearly miss the entry to the driveway, as I reached my third, and hopefully, final destination.

  It wasn’t until my finger released the doorbell that I realized how truly horrible I was feeling. To make matters worse, my nerves had also kicked in, and I had a fleeting thought that perhaps I should have given myself a quick cursory glance in the mirror before exiting the car. There were no do-overs on first meetings, after all, and I was about to meet more than just Theo and possibly Morgan today, seeing as it looked to be that they had a visitor, judging by the third vehicle parked at the front of the house.

  As luck would have it, someone was home.

  I would have cried out my relief at the sight of the pregnant woman before me, but a whispered, “Morgan,” was the only thing I could muster as soon as the door opened.

  The woman’s eyebrows furrowed in apparent confusion. “Do I know you?”

  I shook my head, indicating the negative, because that’s all I could do. I was too busy fighting the sudden bout of nausea and dizzying heat. Next thing I knew, my vision tilted, then dimmed, and my knees gave out.

  At the feel of a cool damp rag sponged against the hollow of my throat, over my forehead, my cheeks, and then back again, some of my faculties returned. The sensation was like heaven on my overheated skin. I sighed at the same time a, “Mr. T,” escaped me.

  “W-what, did she say?” I recognized Dalton’s voice immediately. Unable to get my eyes to cooperate and open, I heard a thump come from right beside me, accompanied by the heat of another body warming the side of my torso.

  “Danger…Kip,” I mumbled, and then everything started to fade again.

  Before I was able to embrace the darkness that swooped in, I felt the palm of Dalton’s callused hand gently cup my cheek as he whispered, “Huss?”

  Chapter 2

  Dalton

  With a lot of convincing to get the medics to allow me to be there, here I was, sitting in the back of an ambulance with who I suspected was Hussy, the cyber ghost I’d set Brycen to tracking in his spare time over the last year.

  Her name: Devolin Payton Taylor. At least that’s what the ID in her bag said when I managed to sneak a look at it after the paramedics had located it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d faked her own identity, seeing as she seemed hell-bent on remaining anonymous.

  Leaning forward onto my knees, I peered at the woman splayed out onto the gurney before me. Out cold.

  Morgan had told me that Hussy looked panicked when she first opened the door to the woman. Then she’d collapsed and Theo had called 911. Morgan rushed to get me a cold cloth, and I’d been left with an unconscious woman. Her head rested in my lap, as I tried to decipher what her few short words meant, and why she’d chosen now to show herself.

  Devolin whimpered in her sleep, causing me to reach out and grab the hand closest to me. Her very tiny, dainty, exceptionally soft hand.

  My eyes trailed up from her digits, her arm, her shoulder, the delicate neck that held a thrumming but steady pulse, to her face. Her license said she had green eyes, but I wondered if they’d shimmer like emeralds, taper closer to the hazel side of things, or would be bright like aquamarines. Beyond that, her lips were full, dark pink, almost rosy, reminding me of bubble gum. A fleeting curiosity of if she’d taste as such washed over me, but I shrugged it off. It was her hair that had me begging to set it free and run my fingers through it. It was a deep auburn, with streaks of darker reddish hues mixed in. Her skin was pale, but I knew, with the small line of freckles over the bridge of her cute nose, that her complexion wasn’t that much darker when she wasn’t ill, as she seemed to be now.

  What the fuck is the matter with you? Scolding myself internally for waxing poetic about an unconscious woman, one I’d had a past with, yet had never met before. I bowed my head, trying to devise a plan of action, now that I had bullied my way into being by her side.

  Devolin

  I woke up in what looked like the back of an ambulance, my hand clutched in a firm and warm grasp.

  Allowing my head to drop sideways, I found myself looking at Dalton, who sat beside me. His head was bent forward. He was leaning onto his knees, one of them bouncing out of what I surmised was anxiety. I can only imagine what went through his, Theo’s, and Morgan’s heads when here I had shown up out of nowhere, and then before I could explain anything, I pulled a Sleeping Beauty maneuver on their asses. That thought had me rolling my eyes, cringing internally.

  Dalton had yet to notice that I’d woken up, so I took the opportunity for a more thorough perusal of the unguarded man before me while I had it.

  His dark brown, almost black hair was due for a cut, slightly falling over his eyes. I wondered how it would feel between my fingers if I were to brush it away. Dalton had a chiseled jaw with a slight square shape, full lips, strong and masculine features that guaranteed him to look mean one minute, yet soft when the time called. His nose had a slight bend to it, most likely from combat, as with the small scar on the side of his right cheek, by his hairline. I could only assume since I’d been unable to access most but not all of his service records. He looked infinitely better in person than in any of the photos I’d dug up. Trust me, I’d searched those babies out, if only to indulge in my insane obsession over a man I’ve never met, but had spoken with once.

  Damn!

  Dalton must have sensed that I was conscious for his head shot up and his steel grey eyes connected with mine. “You’re awake.” The silk of his voice ran over me, goosebumps exploding on my skin, making me withdraw my hand from his so I wouldn’t give myself, or my reaction to him, away.

  Double damn! Wait; was that my voice? Embarrassment filled me as a grin broke over his face, solidifying the fact that I had spoken aloud. But that look though… Had I felt anywhere close to one-hundred-percent, that look on his face would have melted my panties. I’m sure of it.

  As it was, my mouth had gone dry, my tongue feeling as if it had tripled in size. “Uh.”

  “If you’re going to look, I’d rather you be doing it while I can watch.” His grin transformed into a smile.

  My mouth opened for a rebuttal to his bold statement, then closed because words evaded me.

  Light danced in the man’s eyes. “The jig is up, Huss.” His words were filled with pride. “Or should I say Devolin Payton Taylor?”

  “How’d?” He patted my hand then twined his fingers through mine, setting off another set of goosebumps, but I knew how he found out. “You went through my stuff.”

  He followed his curt nod with, “How are you feeling?”

  I tried to pry my hand from his like before, but he didn’t give this time. “Where’s my bag? I—I need to show you something.”

  “I asked you a question, Devolin.”

  I pulled at my hand again. Stuck. “Just let me—”

  Instead of the gentle tone he’d led with, this time, his words brokered no argument. All alpha-like. “Don’t. Brush. Me. Off, Devolin.”

  “But—” My words ceased halfway out of my mouth as his lips formed a thin line in warning, his hand squeezing mine as an added measure.

  I tried to lift my head, but collapsed back onto the stretcher’s pillow as the nausea and dizziness, that had been absent since my waking, set in again. For the first time today, I started to really worry. This was all too reminiscent. Closing my eyes, I begged. Please don’t let it be back. I can’t deal with this right now.

  “What is it?”

  My eyes snapped open. The paramedics had to have given me drugs or something. It could be the only reason why I couldn’t keep my t
houghts to myself.

  Dalton leaned closer, the squeeze on my hand a gentle one. “What’s back? What’s the matter? Come on, Dev, talk to me.”

  He couldn’t know. I didn’t want him to know. I was there simply because I felt responsible in warning him, to keep him and his team at NSI safe. I should have known that exploring my connection with Dalton couldn’t lead to… And what was it that I wanted it to lead to? A happily ever after? I snorted at the thought then averted his questing gaze by turning my head to look up at the ambulance’s ceiling. No, there would be none of that romance book nonsense for me. If I was having a relapse of some kind, this solidified why I had to push him away. I was best off making sure he had what he needed for that case of his; then disappearing from his life like I’d done the first go around.

  Impatience clearly showing, Dalton groaned, “Devolin.”

  I closed my eyes, soaking in the warmth growing inside me, all due to the sound of his voice. Trying to breathe away my nausea, I silently prayed he’d say my name again. “You smell good. Like soap, mint, and man,” I whispered.

  “Devolin.” He sounded humored.

  I chose to ignore him, until I felt his other hand cupping my cheek. Then I couldn’t.

  Before I could react, deflect, possibly shove my foot in my mouth further, “Sir, we’re at the hospital,” came from one of the medics at the front of the vehicle. “We need you to clear out.” The back door to the ambulance opened with the other attendant standing there.

  “Wait!” I cried out as Dalton began to back out of the rig. “My bag!”

  “What is it with you and that bag?” the man grumbled, and then lifted the messenger satchel to show me that it had been with us all along.

  “Take it. There are things on the thumb drives that you need to see.” The medics proceeded to unload my stretcher from the rig as Dalton stood at my side. “It’s about the Wentworth case.”

  His body stiffened, eyes narrowing on me. “How do you know about that?” he clipped.

  I wasn’t about to apologize for doing what was right, even if he made me feel like a scolded child just then.

  Showing my stubbornness, I jutted my chin up and said, “It doesn’t matter. You need to do it right away.” I’d be damned if something happened to him, or a member of his team, when I’d been the one to put them in this mess, all thanks to a personal connection.

  “Fine. I’ll get Brycen to meet me here, then you can show us what you’ve got when the doctor gives you the all clear.”

  “No!” Being around him was the last thing I needed. Hell, if working together on that one mission had caused me to lose my head about him, I feared what working with him and his team in person would do. “Just take it. Take the laptops and the thumb drives, too. There’s more stuff on those. Brycen will know what to do with it. You won’t need me. Just leave me my wallet. It’s all I need that’s in there.”

  The man got right in my face, anger, or was it exasperation, emanating from him. It caused me to jerk back into the stretcher’s cushions. “You’re not getting away from me this time, Devolin,” he snapped, his nostrils flaring.

  “That’s not—”

  “You two can do this later,” the driver stated. “Miss Taylor, we need to get you back to your room and checked out.”

  “What?”

  Ignoring Dalton’s outburst, the medics wheeled me toward the hospital entrance.

  Chapter 3

  Dalton

  I was fucking obsessed.

  Years ago, I swore I’d never get like this over a woman again and now look at me. Taking that same old stroll down that same old road. Yet, despite how it turned out for me the first time around, here I was, spending the last year using my own company’s resources to track down someone who would be deemed, by anyone with a functioning brain, a ghost.

  From the moment the mission to rescue Theo’s nephew and Morgan ended, White Hat Hussy had disappeared from the deep web, never to be seen or heard from again. Well…sort of.

  It was bad enough that her voice has haunted me since that night.

  The silky, smooth, low and sultry cadence, with a subtle Northern lilt, was never far from my mind. I heard it while out on missions. It was there again when I fell asleep.

  Truth be told, I had no idea why, or how for that matter, this woman had infiltrated my thoughts. But random things reminded me of her. I found myself imagining what she looked like. I wondered how old she was, or if she thought of me as often as I did her.

  It had been months since I’d seen sign of life from her. A year since I’d last heard her voice. The guys at Nightshade Securities still gave me hell when I inquired if they’d turned anything up. They thought I’d fallen off my rocker. Maybe I had.

  Then again, Devolin made it impossible to forget her.

  When my ass landed in the hospital, after being shot, she sent me flowers. I’m not talking about one of those get-well bouquets, either. Hell, she’d gone overboard, embarrassing me in front of the others. Even Morgan, a florist for Christ’s sake, asked me if I intended on becoming a rival of hers, what with every surface available––and some of the floor––being covered in vase after vase.

  But Devolin, our little cyber angel, had gone the extra mile. I hadn’t been the only one to suffer her wacky sense of humor, or been blessed with her generosity.

  With Shane, she’d help close a bunch of cases that had either gone cold or lacked information to proceed with their current lead. For Morgan and Theo, she’d sent the man a Mr. T doll, and a few other more meaningful gifts in celebration of their nuptials. Hell, Brycen might not have thought of it as funny at the time, but the rest of the guys from that night, myself included, thought it was hilarious how she’d infiltrated the computer wiz’s system, repeatedly, only to leave dancing babies for him to find. Shit, even Theo’s nephew hadn’t been left untouched. Jasper had a custom blanket delivered to him, with each one of us guys’ names on it. The note it came with, typed up mind you, commended him on his bravery. She also told him that if things ever got scary again, all he had to do was hide under the blanket and that he’d be safe.

  Each gift or act had thought put into it. Maybe that’s why I was hung up on her, I don’t know. Which is why, with every delivery, I pushed the guys to track her down.

  But each box or envelope lacked the return address they needed. And forget fingerprints. Each service utilized had no way of providing the billing information, or any information for that matter, because she’d gotten into their systems to erase the data. Items were paid for in cash. The surveillance systems were of no help either. The damn woman had thought of everything to make sure she stayed incognito.

  Yet, now I’d found her.

  Technically, she found you, dumbass.

  And by the looks of things, she wasn’t doing very well. So naturally, when a nurse approached me, volunteering to show me to the waiting room, I followed her.

  It wasn’t until my ass landed in a seat of the Chronic Care Ward, that worry hit me. About the same time it did, so did my stubbornness.

  If Devolin thought she could get rid of me, she was mistaken. I’d sit there and wait for as long as it took until I could get to her. I didn’t want answers on the Wentworth case from what Brycen could find on her devices. I wanted answers straight from the source. Devolin.

  Chapter 4

  Dalton

  About two-point-five seconds after the nurse left me in the waiting room, I pulled out my phone and dialed up Brycen. I might have wanted Devolin to give me the information, but depending on the severity of her illness, it might not be soon enough, and time was of the essence with this particular new case.

  Within half an hour, the man was sitting next to me, pounding away at Devolin’s hardware. Shortly thereafter, another nurse—one named Doris, according to her nametag, who looked like a witch with an axe to grind—came by to convey a verbal message that Devolin was fine and she wanted me out of there.


  Nope. It wasn’t going to happen. I told the old battle-axe as much too, and sent her on her way with a handwritten note to boot.

  With Brycen playing around on Devolin’s computers, we weren’t going to be moving anytime soon.

  Turning to my computer specialist, I asked, “What can you tell me?”

  The man looked up, his eyes wide with a look of wonderment. “Is this chick for real?” The confusion on my face must have shown, because he didn’t hesitate to elaborate with a shitload of enthusiasm, so much so, his hands became part of the conversation. “I wish I could borrow her brain for a day. She’s a fucking genius, D!” For him to say that about someone he’d loathed for the better part of a year was something else. “This tracking software she’s created puts mine to shame.” He shuffled closer, tilting one of the laptops so that I could check things out. “This, is what I’ve been missing. This is what we need for NSI, D. You should see the codes she’s written. Fucking hell! If you won’t offer her a job, I will.”

  The problem was that I had planned to do that a year ago. Before I could, Devolin shut me down, citing that parting ways after Morgan’s rescue was best for everyone. As I’ve mentioned before, I hadn’t stopped at that, but she was like smoke. There one second, gone the next. Invisible. Today had been the biggest break I’d gotten where she was concerned.

  Before I could share this with Brycen, I spotted my half-sister heading my way. “Sky?” Getting to my feet, I took a few steps toward her, then waited.

  Skylar greeted me with a hug. “What are you doing here?”

  I squeezed her back, answering, “Waiting on someone.”

  She pulled back from me, her eyes filled with worry. “Is it one of the guys?” Then she peered over my shoulder, eyes going wide, reflecting recognition. Her face filled with shock. “That’s Devolin’s bag!” Clearly agitated, her arm shot out and her finger pointed in Brycen’s direction. “Those are her computers! What’s he doing with her computers, D?”