Explosive Encounter (Task Force 779 Book 2)

by KL Donn

Ev backs up into Nix and me as she tries to retreat. “Hey,” I whisper in her ear while watching the cops as they approach. “No one is going to touch you, Everett.” She doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her shaking, and after a shared look with Nix, I know we aren’t leaving her side until this is resolved.

  “Are you alright, Ms. Gaines?” another of the officers asks her pointedly while stepping too close for my comfort.

  Placing my body between them, I hold Everett’s arm as she grips the back of my shirt. “She is now. Any idea who was here?” It’s a redundant question because I already have the answer. I simply want to see how much they know and who I can possibly trust.

  “No. Not yet. We were hoping Ms. Gaines had seen their faces,” the first officer challenges, and I can see in his stare that he knows exactly who was here.

  “She didn’t. I was on the phone with her, and she hid before anyone could be seen in the house.”

  “You were the one who called us, then?”

  “I was.”

  “Then you know this isn’t the first time we’ve been out here. Ms. Gaines has had a few calls out for sounds around the house. How do we even know there was an intruder?” Son of a bitch.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Nix yells before I can say a word. “Do you know what this fucking woman has been through? Did you think maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so fucking hard to ensure that the citizens of your city feel safe in your care?”

  The officers back up a step as Nix shuffles forward, and I share a look with my team. Nix doesn’t normally show emotion. Ever. He’s straitlaced, cold-faced, stick with the facts.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but you understand we have other calls. More important emergencies than false alarms.” Weston and Theo grab both of Nix’s arms before he can pounce on the man who has no idea how close he came to getting his face rearranged.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Ryder murmurs behind me.

  “My sentiments exactly.” Theo laughs. The big bastard might be a joker, but we all know he would take a man out for looking at a woman wrong.

  For Nix, however, this is new. And I think it has a lot to do with what nearly happened to Codie and what did happen to Everett. He can’t keep his feelings bottled up when he's connected to the people involved.

  “You need to calm down, sir.” Nix just glares at the officer.

  “Do your fucking job, and this wouldn’t be a problem. But hey, we know who was here, and now, we know who is dirty. We’ll take over from now on,” I shout at the men. They all look at me dumbfounded, and it isn’t until I see relief in one man—Officer Rivera—that I know he’s the one we’ll be trusting to keep us informed of who’s doing what with the cartel.

  “You don’t get to take over. You’re civilians,” the man bites out, becoming frustrated by our attitudes.

  I’m pretty sure Nix’s chest puffs out like a proud peacock as he informs the man, “We’re not just civilians, Officer, we’re secret service and work for POTUS.” The officers share a look at the revelation, and I laugh inwardly every time one of us says secret service because we aren’t. We have higher clearance. But the world doesn’t get to know about Task Force 779 or that the President assigns us each and every mission we take on.

  “Do you have credentials?” We each pull out a badge, and this pompous ass and the other officers pale while Rivera holds in his laughter. They obviously realize they don’t get to tell us what to do, or believe that they can get away with their dirty fucking dealings. Not while we’re around. “We’ll need a statement from her,” he retorts.

  “I’ll see about bringing Ms. Gaines by the station in the morning,” I tell him, and as the four men walk away, Rivera hangs back in the shadows before stepping out.

  “Here’s my card.” He hands me a business card and follows his colleagues.

  As soon as they’re all gone, I spin around to see Everett standing like a deer caught in the headlights. Her stare is blank, and her chest is barely moving. Fear is holding her in its ice-cold grip.

  “Give us a second?” I ask my team, but I don’t break contact with my girl to see if they leave or not. “Evie?” I grasp her chilled cheeks in my hands and stand as close to her as I can. “Take a breath for me.”

  Still, she does nothing.

  “Come on, baby, talk to me,” I plead with her. This woman is so fucking stubborn, and she drives me crazy.

  Rationally, I know she isn’t doing this on purpose, it’s merely her response to a possible threat, and I need to help her break the habit. But for now, I need her to look at me with some life in her eyes.

  Slipping my hands through her hair, I twist the long strands around my fist and angle her head to where I want her before slowly lowering my mouth to cover hers. As soon as our lips touch, her hands find my arms and grip them so tightly, her nails dig into the flesh.

  Licking at the seam of her mouth so I can touch her tongue with mine, I breathe in her earthy, peachy scent and memories of our one night together come flooding back. Not that they ever left, but they’re in my mind’s eye happening in real-time.

  I pull back from her lips a bit. “Do you remember the way you begged me to kiss you, Everett?” She shakes her head no. Leaning forward, I whisper her words back to her in her ear, “Please, Foster, kiss me like you can’t let me go.”

  And I do.

  I pull her hips into mine. I work a hand up the back of her shirt to hold her close to my chest. And I slant my mouth over hers and inhale her.

  Without an inch of space between us, we’re breathless as our tongues duel, and our heartbeats accelerate until it feels like they're about to pound out of our chests.

  “Do you remember what I did after?” I murmur against her mouth as we come up for air.

  “No,” she barely breathes out. If it weren’t for the way her chest hiccupped, I’d almost believe her.

  “I made you a promise. One you begged me not to. One I’m holding onto to this day.” Licking across her bottom lip, my cock twitches at her gasp. “What was it, Evie? What did I promise you?”

  “I can’t…”

  “Tell me,” I demand.

  “You promised…” She pauses. “You promised I would always be yours.”

  “And you are. Then, now, always. You’ll always be mine, Everett, even when you don’t want to be. I’m not going anywhere, so please trust that I can help you. That I can keep you safe.”

  The way she gazes up at me, her own eyes a stormy sea of conflicted emotions, I could get lost in her for days, weeks, months, years even and still want more of her.

  “We can’t be, though.” She doesn’t sound as resistant, more scared.

  “We can. If you let us.”

  “You’re on the east coast,” she points out, and it has to be the lamest excuse ever.

  “So move.” I grip both of her hands in mine, and the way she holds onto me gives me hope.

  “I can’t.” Everett looks away, and I know my time for pushing is over. I need to get her on solid ground again before I try for more.

  “Let’s go inside. Figure out where these giants are going to sleep.”

  A small smile erupts, and it gives me hope as we observe the last of the flashing lights pull away from the street, and all is peaceful again as the lights begin to flicker on in her house.

  7

  Everett

  In her dreams.

  I can’t believe we’re doing this. That I’m doing this. I was never supposed to see Foster Halsey again. At least, I didn’t think I was. But I couldn’t let the thought of him go after he held me for days while his friend took the beatings.

  Now, he’s here, in my room, about to make love to me.

  Sex, Evie. Just sex.

  I can’t let my emotions get involved. I can’t afford to.

  Neither can he.

  We both have lives to get back to, but I need this before I leave again. I crave him. A strong man who will be gentle and understanding.

  Except
, before our lips ever touch, I find myself already falling for him.

  His fingers play me like a finely tuned piano, and I hit the ground hard. Whether Foster knows it or not, he owns my entire heart. A piece of my soul has chipped off and glued itself to him as he closes the door and waits for my next move.

  Stripping off my clothes is awkward and gangly, but the way he watches me, with reverence and heat, I forge on and keep going. I give in to all of my desires just for him.

  The way he holds me against his naked chest, the rough chest hair scratching my nipples as his hands explore my body, I’ve never felt so cherished before in my life. I want the feeling to last a lifetime, so I remain still and savor every touch, every gasp, every moan for more.

  When we finally fall into bed, his words and promises seem too good to be true, and yet, I believe them anyways. Until the light of day when my doubts overtake me, and I run. Run like I did on the beach that forsaken day, and suddenly, I’m catapulted back into hell with no one to save me and nowhere to go.

  Gasping awake, I nearly fall out of bed and scream as a body follows me.

  “Whoa, hey, you’re okay. I’m here.” I’m sweating and hyperventilating, but Foster's smooth baritone brings me back from the edge of insanity. “Breathe for me.”

  And I do. In and out. Rise and fall. I feel the air as it comes and goes, and suddenly, I can draw a breath again without fear of where the enemy is hiding.

  “That happen a lot?” Foster brushes the hair off my sweaty face and cradles me into his chest. His front to my back. The longer I sit there, the more I relax because I know this time, he’s corporeal, and he’s here.

  “Every night,” I confide.

  Foster blows out a harsh breath as he continues to soothe me like a child. “Some days, it feels like nothing happened. Like I’m living a normal day, and then I’ll see or hear something, and it comes rushing back like a tornado.” I hate when it happens, too.

  “Ryder has expressed the same reactions, and while I can’t claim to say I understand, Evie, and I fucking wish I did, but I hope to hell you know I’m here for the whole damn storm.” Such strength from a man who deserves better.

  Turning around, I stare up at Foster as he watches me with an unsettling intensity. “Do you really believe Van had something to do with this? Me being taken?”

  Another rough exhale of air. “Honestly?” he says. I nod. I’d never ask for anything different. “I think he’s got a leak in his command, and he’s either too dumb or egotistical to look further into it.”

  “So, he’s turning a blind eye?” That hurts. More than I’ll ever admit out loud. Van was never a great father, but he was decent. For a short while.

  “I’m not sure it’s as simple as that. Working in black ops is different than what you’ve seen in TV and movies. He can’t just say, hey, you burned my kid. He has to have a lot of solid proof and even then, he’s got to be careful he doesn’t put a larger target on his back or yours.”

  “He could be looking into it, then. Finding out who—what did you say? Burned me?—and why?”

  “He might find out who, but you have to know you might never know why, Everett. It could be for something as simple as not getting a promotion, being taken off an investigation, or because Van looked at him funny.” I have more questions than ever now.

  “Is it possible he won’t even dig into what happened?” I’m not sure I want to know that answer.

  Foster has obviously considered that, too, as he ponders his answer before speaking. “I think anything is possible. However, he is predisposed to protect himself and his assets.”

  “Assets? I’m a liability, aren’t I?” He doesn’t confirm nor deny, but I have my answer. “Do you think it’s because I’m not really his?”

  “Christ. You’re chock-full of hardass questions tonight.” I get that he’s kidding with me, but the doubt is there, and it’s very real.

  “I want to be normal again, Foster. I don’t want the pitying looks or questions about how I can be out in public so soon. I want to go to work. I want to fall in love and have a family. And I can’t do any of that until I have answers.” My tone grows frantic as I think of all the things I could miss out on in life.

  I've always had a plan. Finish college. Start my career. Make a name for myself in the business industry and then fall in love. The family would come after. Now, my future is looking bleak, and I don’t like it one bit.

  “We’re going to help you, but it’s a slow process. Dangerous if we get caught,” he explains while I stare up at the ceiling.

  “Dangerous, how?” I heard him tell the police he was secret service. I didn’t realize they went on rescue missions, but what do I know?

  He snorts. “Ryder can’t hack the CIA and not get into shit.”

  “But you work for the government, too.”

  “Not in the way you think. Or that we lead people to believe. What we do isn’t public knowledge.”

  “Oh.”

  I give up.

  Foster

  I can see the wheels turning in her head, and while I’d love to answer all her questions as she comes up with them, I can’t. I don’t like keeping Everett in the dark about who I am or what I do, and in some ways, she already understands the seriousness of our positions, but she doesn’t comprehend how we operate or why. Only us and two others do.

  The President. And our DOJ contact, Asher McCall.

  Asher is who we contact when we can’t reach the Oval Office or we need something done immediately. He was once part of a team as elite as ours—Team Olympus. It sounds like a game show group and completely fictional, but they got shit done. Until an ambush sent all but two men to their graves. Asher “Apollo” McCall—The Interrogator—and Matthew “Ares” Norbury—The Finisher. I’ve never met Ares, but I've learned from his history that when he went on a mission, he was usually the reason it ended. And why there were so many bodies piled up.

  The entire team was nicknamed after a Mount Olympus god and for good reason. They successfully led over one hundred missions in the five years they were active.

  Matthew went back to active duty and was once again ambushed, only this time he was set up and sent to one of the worst war prisons on earth. I heard he escaped and proved his innocence, but nobody has heard anything from him in months. I get the feeling, though, that Asher knows exactly where he is and what he’s been up to.

  “I want to tell you, Evie, but it’s more than just keeping a secret, it’s people’s lives at stake.” Fuck, I wish I could explain more to her.

  “That’s alright.” I can tell it’s not, but she won’t push for more because she’s still distancing herself from me.

  “When I leave on a mission, I’ll be able to tell you when we leave and, if I know, when I’ll be back. I just can’t always tell you why or where.”

  “I understand, Foster, you don’t need to explain anything to me.” Her fake smile says otherwise, but there’s not a fucking thing I can do, and it pisses me off. “Goodnight.” She leans over to kiss my cheek then turns away.

  I’ve never felt so damn helpless in my life. I want her to trust me, to confide in me, but she won’t when she knows I’m keeping secrets. Even if fessing up could land me in prison for the rest of my life.

  Fuck!

  It’s a no-win situation I’m determined to overcome. I’ll figure it out. Eventually. Maybe I need to talk to Ryder, inquire about how he keeps Codie happy while not sharing anything compromising with her.

  With the house quiet and Everett possibly sleeping, I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep now. Checking my watch, I see it’s two hours until dawn, and I get up. Intent on going for a run, I quietly creep down the hall so as not to wake my team in the spare room or the ones on the couches in the living room.

  Picking up my shoes, I head to the SUV parked in the driveway behind Everett’s abysmal car and shake my head. She needs something with power, not this well-worn Acura. If she were ever in a car chase, s
he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  More than ever, I contemplate bringing her home with me. She isn’t safe here, and as much as I’d like to, I can’t stay indefinitely. At home, I can secure her, and we can look deeper into what’s happening and why she keeps getting targeted.

  While we don’t know for sure that it’s the Diablos after her this time, I figure it’s highly likely them again. If they get their hands on her, she’ll never be found. She’ll have a fate worse than death because they’ll want to have fun with her first.

  And not the party kind.

  Torture. Maiming. Rape.

  She’ll endure more than any ordinary man or woman can withstand.

  Anger swarms through my veins as I remember how we found her. How close to death she came. The way she begged me…

  “You can’t let them take me again.” The first words this woman has said to me even though she’s been in my arms for hours while these assholes have had their hands on Ryder. “You have to promise to kill me first. I can’t take anymore.”

  “Nobody is dying, and I’m not fucking killing you,” I growl.

  “You don’t understand. I won’t last, and I’m too weak to do it myself. You have to promise to kill me before they touch me again. Please.” The woman is already too weak to sit up, so when I gaze down at her, I see nothing but acceptance and resignation in the swirling green depths. “Please.” Large tears pool at her eyelids and slide down her cheeks as she slumps against me, losing what little strength she had.

  “I promise, Everett.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “I promise they won’t touch you again. Not while there’s breath in my body.” I can’t kill an innocent woman. It’s not in me to do, but I will do everything in my power to get her out of there.

  I’ll get her home.

  “Fucking hell,” I groan again.

  That has to be the single worst moment in my life.

  Seeing a woman who had barely begun her life, begging for death, would have brought me to my knees if I hadn’t already been on the ground.