Tidal Falls (Wounded Hearts Book 1)

by Biggar, Jacquie

  “You’re right, Tess, I’m not thinking straight. Nick’s called some military friends of his; they arrived a little while ago. They seem ready to help, so I’m going to take them up on it.”

  “What about Nick? I think you should at least listen to his explanation. He’s a good boy, I can tell. You should give him a chance.”

  Shaking her head, Sara had to smile at Tess’s description of Nick as a boy. It was hard to imagine his six foot something, muscular body, and lean face as that of a young soft-skinned boy. Her hand unconsciously slid to her flat tummy, rubbing it as she imagined a baby boy with his dark hair and her brown eyes.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Nick stared out the window at the darkening yard as his friends pored over the files behind him. They’d already been at it for a couple hours now but with the chief’s contacts they’d managed to track down most of the people on the list. It read like a who’s who of government officials, high-ranking cartel members, and someone only referred to as Phoenix. It forcibly reinforced to him the cunning Tom portrayed. It had not only kept the man alive, but also allowed him to profit from dealing with the likes of the Sinaloa Cartel and the Iraqis.

  Had Adam known something was going on? Maybe that was the reason he’d spent so much time watching Sheridan. Nick had assumed it was because the two men had taken an instant disliking to each other, hell they all had, but Adam carried it further, practically becoming Sheridan’s shadow. If only he would have confided in someone. Maybe, he wouldn’t be dead now.

  Nick gripped the edge of the counter so tight it groaned from the pressure. The scene outside the window changed from a softly lit summer evening, Jess’s bike laying on its side, baseball glove discarded from their earlier game, to one of chaos, with blasts of mortar, and screams of women and children.

  He could see the Chief, Adam, and Jared across the village square. They were pinned down behind the town well. Suddenly Adam popped up; shooting his favorite HK-MP5K. “Get down, get down, you idiot.” Nick chanted the litany under his breath, a prayer to keep his buddy safe.

  Next thing he knew Adam took a couple hard shots to the chest, his gun flying from his hands as his body folded to the ground. Frank and Jared rushed out and pulled him behind the well amid a flurry of bullets. Nick laid ground cover, hoping to give them time to get the fuck out of there. Jake crouched beside him, low growls emitting from his throat. They were fubared. He didn’t see this ending well for any of them, there had to be twenty insurgents out there, compared to the four—now three—of them. Jared dug inside his Kevlar and came out with what looked like a friggin cell phone, and Nick got ready to beat feet. Sure as hell, thirty seconds later there was a low rumble at the other end of the street, then the real party started.

  Jared had done what he was best at, namely saving their sorry asses. He’d set up a bunch of flash bangs, probably as they worked their way into the village, and now they were going to reap the rewards. Bam, explosions rent the air, and villagers ran screaming, creating the pandemonium needed for them to ghost out of there, quick fast. He took flank position so Jared and the chief could pack Adam as they raced for cover, their fricken ride over a mile away. They were almost in the clear when something popped from the shadows and Nick felt a searing pain along his scalp just before he passed out. When he came to he was in a German hospital and his best friend was in a pine box. They told him he was lucky, he didn’t agree.

  “Nick, I think we’ve got a plan, come check this out.” Jared’s rumble brought his head around, back to Sara’s pretty kitchen. It reminded him of her, warm and sunny. God he hoped he could make things up to her; he didn’t want to lose what they had.

  “You okay man? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I think maybe I did. You guys remember the night Adam died? I think I know who the shooter was. I’m almost sure now it was Sheridan. Over the years, I’ve had fragments of that night creep up on me but never enough to put it all together. Then tonight when Sheridan called, it triggered more memories. I think the cocky bastard killed Adam and winged me. He probably figured I was too fucked up ever to remember it. He’s probably been laughing his ass off all these years. Stupid, messed up Kelley, can’t even remember his own fucking name.”

  “Are you sure about this? That’s good for a court marshalling; his sparkling career in politics is going to come to a crashing end. I confess I always wondered what went wrong that night. It was supposed to be a simple surveillance and all the sudden we found ourselves ass deep in rebels” Regret laced the chief’s eyes and tone. “Then Adam disobeyed a direct order to stay down and was killed for it.”

  Jared stood and began pacing the room, looking grimmer than Nick could ever remember seeing him. “This is such bullshit! If we’d have got our heads out of our asses, maybe we would have noticed what that prick was up to, and Adam would still be with us today.”

  “It’s no one’s fault, Jare. We went there to do a job. How were we supposed to know someone on our own side would be a threat to any of us?” As always, Frank’s was the voice of reason. “All we can do now is use what we know to take this mother-fucker and all his buddies down. Hard.”

  “I agree, we need to put an end to this once and for all. I hate that Sara and Jessica are in the middle of this shit-storm. I need them safe, even if what we had is over.”

  “She’ll come around, don’t you worry. All you need to do is spread some of that famous Kelley charm around, she’ll realize what a sweetheart you are. Man, if I moved in that direction, I’d marry you myself.” Jared moved towards Nick, arms wide, making kissy noises.

  “If you two are done spreading the love, we’ll get down to business here. I think I have a plan to bring all our players to one arena, and then with the DEA’s help, we can go in and round them all up at once. The way I see it,” as Nick and Jared pulled up chairs on either side of him, Frank laid out the bullet list he’d made. “We already know there is a big deal about to go down, maybe even the granddaddy for our boy here. The DEA wants in, and I’m willing to bet they’ll give us whatever we need, if it means collaring these guys. I have a feeling Sara inadvertently took the single most important piece of evidence the Feds will need to build this case. That puts us in a position of power, boys. I say we bring all the players here, to us.”

  Frank leaned back in his chair as Nick pushed his back and stood, too agitated to remain seated. “Pardon my French here, sir, but are you fucking crazy? The last thing I want is that asshole and his friends anywhere near here. I want Sara and Jessica protected, not thrown right into the lions mouth, for Chris-sake.”

  “Calm down buddy, you know the chief better than that. Give the man time to explain.” Jared placated.

  “No he’s right. My plan will be dangerous for Sara. We’ll make sure her little girl is under protection, but Sara’s the key. We need her to lure Sheridan in, and with the right timing, his associates also. Look, we know from this file the deal is set for next week, and Sheridan’s part in it is to have the guns he’s already collected from overseas brought to a port for transfer to one Ramos Guerra of the Sinaloa Cartel. In exchange for the arms, Guerra is supposed to turn over twelve shipping containers of the precursor drug, methylamine. Twelve, men. We can’t let that happen.”

  He looked them each in the eye, “I say we force his hand. We know Sara is his weakness, so we get her to call him. Tell him if he doesn’t bring her friend here by next week, crunch time, she’ll turn everything over to the local authorities. I’m betting Sheridan, being the pompous ass he is, will think he can out- maneuver her by bringing his colleagues here to stop her and take care of business all at the same time. We are only a few miles from the pacific so it makes sense. But with the DEA’s assistance we’ll be here, ready for them.”

  “I can’t let her do it, it’s too dangerous.” Nick growled the words, knowing it was the only way but desperate for another answer.

  “You don’t get to have that choice.” They all turned as one to
the sound of Sara’s voice as she opened screen door. “You gave up the right to have a say in this when you withheld the truth from me.” Sara avoided his eyes as she entered the room, turning instead to Frank. “I overheard your plan and agree. We have to try. But first you need to promise me by all you hold dear my daughter will be safe. That’s a deal-breaker for me.”

  “Sara, you don’t have to do this, we can find another way.” Nick pleaded, lifting his hand to touch her, only to let it drop when she spun around, hurt and anger radiating from her form.

  “Don’t you get it? There is no other way. He’s too powerful. Tom has spent years building himself up to be unreachable. He holds so many dirty secrets on important people no one can touch him. I was there; I saw what a word from him could do. He took great pleasure in squashing anyone who tried to vilify him. I won’t stand by and let it happen anymore. He’s ruled over me for too many years already. It’s time to end this.”

  Ignoring him now, she turned back to the others, “He’s very perceptive gentlemen, so we’ll have to be precise setting this up or he’ll just smell a rat and blow the whole thing apart on us.”

  Nick couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle her or applaud. He was fully aware of how dangerous Sheridan could be, that’s why he wanted her nowhere near the guy, couldn’t she understand that? She’d been crying, her eyes red and swollen, her voice husky, and yet she stood there before his friends, unbowed, ready to grab a dragon by the tail if it meant protecting her daughter. He’d never seen anyone braver, or more compelling.

  “I know you’re angry with me, and you have cause to be. But I need you to know I never meant to deceive you, and I sure as hell was never going to turn you over to Sheridan. I didn’t even know who he was until you showed me those files. Shit, Sara, what are the chances the same S.O.B. we knew from overseas would be your ex-husband.” He moved to stand in front of her, and gently placed a hand on each side of her face to make her look at him. “Honey, think about it. If I were only here to take you back to him, wouldn’t I have done it already? He’s playing you, Sara, and you’re letting him.”

  Nick didn’t care about their audience. All his focus remained on the courageous woman who held his heart firmly between her tiny little hands and was currently squeezing the living shit out of it.

  She still wouldn’t look him in the eye, her posture remained stiff and unyielding. He wanted to ask how she’d managed to get from her room where he’d watched her disappear a couple of hours ago, to coming in through the back door minutes ago. He hoped to Jesus that she’d not been about to slip town on him. The thought of what could have happened, constricted his already tight throat muscles. She was determined to follow through on this course of action, he couldn’t stop her. He hoped she would at least listen to the voice of reason, namely Frank, and obey every precaution.

  ***

  Sara couldn’t bring herself to meet Nick half way. She still smarted over his possible duplicity. Needed time to assimilate it before she decided anything. She wished she could set it aside and forget it, but it wasn’t that simple. She’d fallen in love with him, put her trust in him, and he had let her down. For right now, she needed to focus all her attention on what needed done to get Fiona out of Tom’s clutches and him behind steel bars. Her priority couldn’t be whether Nick had lied to her, or how she wished she could lean against his broad chest and find the comfort she so badly needed. Instead, she was going to have to stand on her own, as she had always done. After all these years she should know by now, you can’t count on anyone but yourself.

  She couldn’t remember a time anyone ever really cared how she felt. The nine different foster families she’d been assigned to took care of her basic needs, but no one ever tried to create a bond with her. Then she went to a new family the year she turned fifteen.

  The Bakers were a middle-aged couple; Mrs. Baker worked at the local bank, Mr. Baker owned a car lot and spent most of his time at the office. Sara had a list of duties posted to the stainless steel refrigerator in the couple’s upscale condo, and was expected to have them done by the time they arrived home each night.

  She remembered coming home early from school that day, her tummy cramping, head aching, and laying down on the cool leather of the sofa. She awoke to clammy hands pushing her tank top down over her newly budded breasts, grabbing and squeezing even as a heavy weight settled over her prone body and a wet mouth ground her lips against her teeth.

  Her eyes flew open and she began to struggle as Mr. Baker panted in her ear, “Come on honey, open your mouth for me, you know you want it. You’ve been flaunting your sexy little body in front of me since you arrived here, time to share it.”

  Sara panicked as his hands roved over her, pushing and prodding. She tried to knee him in the crotch but only succeeded in letting him settle deeper between her thighs, his disgusting hard-on pushing against her panties where her skirt had ridden up in the struggle.

  He laughed, “That’s it, baby, I knew you wanted me. We’re going to have a good time, you and I.”

  “Get off me, you asshole.” Sara cried as she bunted him in the face with her head. “Get off! I’m going to scream this place down in two seconds if you don’t get the fuck away from me.”

  “Tsk, tsk, is that the way young girls talk these days? No wonder no one wants to keep you, you have no respect.” His hand slipped down between her legs while his other hand restrained hers between their bodies. When she peeled her lips back to scream his slimy tongue entered her mouth, and Sara began to gag in shocked terror.

  At that moment, she felt something hard hit her cheek and then a muffled thwump as it connected with the creep’s skull. As he rolled away from her, Sara could hear the screeching tones of Mrs. Baker freaking out at both of them, as if Sara had asked for this. Mr. Baker, the asshole, stood there calmly straightening his shirt and slicking back his comb-over hairdo.

  The authorities took her away the same day, with a big black mark on her reports. After that no one wanted to let her in their homes, as if she carried the plague or something, until Frank Harley, the art teacher at the school she currently attended, stepped up to give her a chance.

  Sara, starved for affection, yet leery of trusting anyone, slowly came to realize Frank’s heart was every bit as big as his body. The two of them spent hours together while Frank taught her the joy of painting in his workshop studio. She loved learning the techniques and found she had a natural talent for it. The next few years flew by, with Sara for the first time in her young life, thriving under the love of a parent figure. Her grades went up, her friends increased, but more than that, her confidence grew.

  Frank was justifiably proud of her and encouraged her to pursue a career as an artist. He had a number of influential friends in the industry that thought Sara gifted. One day he introduced her to Fiona Bradshaw, the owner of a very swanky art gallery downtown. Fiona, only a couple of years older than Sara, was a human dynamo. A pixie, with peaches and cream complexion and fiery red hair that flowed to the bottom of her waist, Fiona had made herself a name in the art world by finding new up and coming artists to catch the attention of Boston’s elite, and she wanted Sara.

  The two women became fast friends, and spent hours gossiping and laughing together as they prepared Sara’s work for exhibition. Then a few months before the big night, Sara came home from the gallery to find Frank sprawled out on the floor of the living room. Even as she fell to her knees beside him, frantically calling 911 on her cell, she knew it was too late he was gone.

  The slamming of the back door and a wet nose nudging her hand brought Sara crashing back to her kitchen. Jake seemed to sense all the turmoil in the room and whined. Sara patted him absently and gazed after Nick’s retreating back, realizing she hadn’t answered him. He’d probably taken it as a rejection. She wanted to follow, explain how his betrayal made her feel, but the words caught in her aching chest and her feet stayed rooted to the floor.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Suf
fering through a fitful night’s sleep Sara arose late the next morning, not surprised to find an empty echo to the house when she wandered out of her room after attempting to revive herself in a long hot shower. Someone had left a full pot of coffee for her and she gratefully poured a steaming mug full before heading over to the slim phone hanging on the wall.

  “Hey, Annie, it’s me. How’s my baby girl doing?”

  “Oh, she’s great. I haven’t seen the two of them all morning. They’re in the back room painting, hopefully not my walls!” She laughed.

  A picture of her friend going back to a room painted all the colors of a rainbow sprung to mind and a big shit-eating grin lit her face. Poor Annie.

  “Okay then, I’m going to finish my coffee and then I’ll be over, I could use a good laugh.”

  “Well, I’m your girl, see you soon.”

  Sara replaced the phone in its cradle and leaned against the wall, nuzzling the warm mug against her cheek. She noticed the printed out files and notes spread all over her table from last night were gone, replaced with an enormous bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers, their cheerful stems rising from the old glass pitcher she’d made ice tea in that day, was it only three weeks ago? So much had happened since then, good and bad.

  She guessed both the flowers and the coffee were from Nick, an apology of sorts. She believed him when he said he never wished to hurt her. But how could she be with a man she couldn’t trust?

  Curiosity had her rolling away from the wall to walk through her living room to the only set of windows, which looked out over her pretty front yard to Nick’s place across the street. She pushed aside the heavy cotton curtains the house had come with, and yes, there it was. His oversized truck took up most of the space on the road. A plain Jane brown four door sedan sat quietly in its shadow.

  She’d missed him last night. Talking to him, laughing with him, making love under him. His presence filled her home, from the tap he’d stopped from dripping in her kitchen, to a discarded jean jacket on the back of the sofa, and the still faint pine-fresh scent of him on her sheets. She’d ended up hugging his pillow last night as she tried to settle down to sleep, tears clogging her throat, but all that had done was make her yearn for him. His husky voice as he whispered what he was going to do to her. His bristly chin as it rubbed against her aching breasts while his teeth nipped and lips sucked, his muscular body molding her slighter one close. The feel of him when he’d filled her, the moans and sighs as they strove to breach this world, and enter one made only for them. The knowledge that she was his, and he hers. Yes, she missed him.