Nobody Knows (SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 11)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  • • •

  I was nervous.

  Not because I was bringing Malachi home to meet my family, but because I was worried that they were going to figure out that this all started out as a lie.

  “I should tell them,” I muttered to the man that was walking up the front walkway beside me. “I hate lying.”

  “Then tell them.” He shrugged. “But, let me ask you this, what’s it going to accomplish telling them the truth now? You’re pregnant. That’s not going anywhere. Nobody’s mad anymore—at least that’s what you’re telling me. Everyone already thinks I’m the father. And you have other things to discuss with your mother, like my ass. Not my ass, ass. But, me, like my entire body, ass.”

  I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I think that you might’ve slipped a little drink before coming here.”

  He sighed. “Parents don’t usually like me. And for some reason, I want them to.”

  “My dad liked you before he found out that we were dating,” I said. “I don’t see why that would change now.”

  “Because I knocked you up?” I teased.

  She rolled her eyes and walked into the house as if she still lived there, not bothering to knock.

  It was to her utter horror that she found her parents making out on the couch, her father’s hand shoved up the front of her mother’s shirt cupping her breast.

  They broke off upon hearing the door opening.

  “I know that you heard us,” Sierra yelled, closing her eyes and then going one step farther as she pressed her hands to her eyes.

  “I know that you learned manners and know how to knock,” Miller countered as he got up, removing his hand almost reluctantly from his wife’s chest.

  My face was neutral, but I would’ve laughed had this been anyone else.

  Like I said, Grans had desensitized me to all things embarrassing. I’d seen things that I could never unsee thanks to that woman.

  “Sorry, you can rest assured that next time, I’ll even make sure to call before showing up,” she muttered.

  “You did call,” I pointed out. “They knew you were coming.”

  She peeked out at me through splayed fingers that were still covering her eyes. “I know. I was being sarcastic.”

  I nodded in understanding and then turned my attention back to the more dangerous person in the room.

  Miller was staring at me with narrowed eyes.

  My eyes went from him to his wife who was looking at her daughter anxiously, and I said, “Honey, why don’t you go help your mom for a bit? I want to talk to your dad for a minute?”

  Sierra’s eyes narrowed on me, as if she was about to argue, but a quick shake of my head had her sighing. “Fine.”

  She walked past her mother and into the kitchen, and Mercy followed.

  Her eyes came to me and she winked before mouthing, “Thank you.”

  I nodded back and turned my attention back to her father who wasn’t across the room anymore. He was marching toward me.

  “Outside,” he ordered as he strode past me.

  I turned and followed him, uncaring and not scared in the least.

  There was little the man could say or do to me that would make me scared.

  Though, I might be more concerned if he was on better footing with his daughter. At this point, he wasn’t. Maybe in the future, he would be, but for now? I wasn’t fearful in the least about what was to come out of his mouth.

  He led me around the side of the house to a detached garage.

  Once there, he opened the side door of the place with his thumbprint on a keypad and swung the door open wide.

  He led me straight into the holy grail of gun safe rooms.

  My mouth fell open as I saw the floor to ceiling lined walls. One wall in particular had rifles on it. One in every shape, size, and color.

  Another wall had handguns.

  And on the wall opposite there was a reloading station with even more bullets than one would hopefully ever need.

  Finally, on the wall closest to me, was a wall lined with shelves. On the shelves were pillows. Blankets. Water bottles. Non-perishable foods. Things that one might need in case of a tornado or a natural disaster.

  “This wall lined with something?” I asked as I knocked on the door.

  “Uh-huh,” Miller said as he walked to a hidden fridge in the wall between guns and opened it up. There he produced a couple of beers chilled to the perfect temperature.

  I took the beer he offered me and twisted the lid off.

  He gestured toward an overflowing whiskey barrel in the corner that had so many beer bottle caps that it was spilling out onto the floor.

  I tossed my cap in that direction, landing it into the bin without a single one falling to the floor. Miller’s toss had about twenty spilling out, causing me to laugh.

  “I’m not sure what I’m doing with those yet,” he admitted. “I’m thinking of building a table, making the tabletop the beer caps and then pouring resin over it to seal it in and make it smooth. Not too sure yet.”

  I took a sip of the beer just as he said, “Mercy is my wife. I have never, ever second-guessed anything that she’s ever done to protect our children. Nor did I ever think that I would need to correct her when it came to something that she did to one of them. But when she kicked my daughter out, I chose to stay silent and not say anything to contradict her in front of them. Instead, I allowed my daughter to go home thinking that her father was mad at her, when, in fact, I was anything but. I see now that my actions were wrong, and I should’ve said something, because I feel like I’ve damaged something that was essential in how we run as a family.”

  My brows rose as I looked at him, not saying anything because he didn’t say anything that I didn’t agree with.

  And, I wasn’t a talker.

  Miller had something to say, and I was going to let him say it.

  “I talked to her almost the instant that the door closed behind Sierra. There aren’t that many things that scare Mercy, but this? Her doing this thing alone? Mercy wasn’t sure that she could handle it on her own. But I know my girl. And, without sounding arrogant, we raised her right. She may be a really wild child, but she thinks before she acts. Even if those actions do have major consequences.” He paused. “If she didn’t like Mark, there was a reason. Now, knowing that you’re the one that wrote her all those years? She was half in love with you way before she ever laid eyes on Mark.”

  That made me feel really fucking good, hearing that.

  Because I was the same way.

  I hadn’t so much admitted it, but felt it.

  There were things that I shared with her that I’d never shared with another soul. Not even my own grans.

  “Now, as for the reason that I really brought you out here,” he said. “Tell me about this woman that was hit outside your place. Also, tell me about the girl that you spoke with at the DMV about that douchebag kid. I heard from Detective Anna today that you were helping with that.”

  I was, actually.

  It also made me wonder how he knew, because I sure the fuck hadn’t told anyone, and Detective Grand had been quite honest when she promised she wouldn’t say anything to anybody.

  “I see by the look on your face that you’re wondering how I know you’re working with her.” He grinned. “There’s not much that goes on at that department that I don’t know about. I may not be chief like Luke, but I’ve been there for a really fucking long time. People don’t even take a shit there that I don’t know about.”

  My lips kicked up at the corner, but he didn’t pull a full-fledged smile out of me.

  A few minutes passed while I told him about what had happened that day, and what I suspected happened with that woman.

  “She’s still in a coma, so I can’t confirm my suspicions,” I admitted. “Zach is supposed to call me if she wakes up with anything to say.”

  “What’s your gut telling you?” Miller pushed.

  The truck lights from another
vehicle showed, announcing Sammy’s arrival.

  Watching them emerge from the vehicle, I said, “I think that her working at the DMV and giving me information was only a coincidence. The girl was a long-distance runner. She runs ultra-marathons. She also looks a whole lot like Sierra if you don’t look at her face. Same body type. Same hair color. Same freckles. Juniper had been wearing a mask that covered the lower half of her face, too, to ward off the sun. I think that her being out there where Sierra lives made her the perfect target.”

  “And the kid’s alibi?” Miller asked as Hastings broke off and headed to the house while Sammy lumbered his way toward us.

  “Parents gave him one,” I said, then I went on to tell him about the car, and what had already been done to it by the time I’d arrived that morning.

  Sammy heard the end half of my statement and grunted in annoyance.

  “I asked about that kid, too,” he said. “I visited his ‘work’ that he has listed down. It’s his parents’ family farm, though it’s not actually owned by the father of the kid. It’s owned by the grandfather who, to be quite honest, isn’t very fond of the kid. According to a couple of hands that I just so happened to run into on their lunch break in town, he only shows up when he absolutely has to—i.e. the school is looking for him because he’s on work program to get him out of class early.”

  “He’ll mess up,” Miller stated firmly. “He’s already taken that first irrational step by hitting that woman. Now it’s time to do a little reconnaissance and keep everyone abreast of what we’re learning.” He turned to his son. “It’s time for you to go kiss ass with your sister. You’ve allowed yourself to be butthurt over Mark for quite long enough.”

  Sammy sighed. “I know. Fuck. I ran into Mark today, and he didn’t even ask about her. He was honestly surprised as fuck when I brought her up and mentioned that she was seeing someone new and pregnant. Like the thought of her not waiting around for him had never even occurred to him.”

  My lip curled at the thought of Sammy mentioning Sierra to her ex at all.

  “I know.” Sammy rolled his eyes. “It just pissed me off that he didn’t say anything. I won’t do it again.”

  I wasn’t mollified, but it wasn’t like I could argue with him about his methods. If I was friends with someone, I would want to know that I’d done everything there was to do for my friend, too.

  At least, that was what I told myself, anyway.

  Miller was about to hand Sammy a beer when he waved his father off. “I’m not going to drink tonight. Head’s been bothering me.”

  Sammy had suffered a head injury last month that had nearly taken him away from his family, which immediately had his father looking at him with concern.

  “Because of your concussion?” I found myself asking.

  “Nah.” He shook his head. “It’s this switching back from cold to hot back to cold again. A couple of days ago it was sixteen out. And now it’s sixty. Tomorrow it’s supposed to be forty again. Shit’s always messed with my head.”

  I let out a relieved breath.

  I didn’t know any of the SWAT team members all that well, but Sammy I’d known less than most. He was too ‘happy’ for me.

  But when he’d gotten hurt, I’d ached just as badly as the rest of them at the thought of him no longer being there.

  And now that he was my girl’s brother? Sierra, despite her anger at her brother, loved him. She wouldn’t like it if anything happened to him.

  Which meant I should probably give more of a shit about him, too.

  “Do you care about me, Malachi?” Sammy teased.

  I looked at him through narrowed eyes. “I care that, for some reason, I care. Caring leads to mistakes. Mistakes lead to other more deadly things that I’d rather not think about.”

  Miller grunted. “Dinner’s probably about ready. Let’s head inside.”

  We all turned to go when Sammy’s words stopped Miller in his tracks. “So did he ask you for her hand in marriage yet?”

  CHAPTER 17

  I hope I’m married by the time I’m 40. If not, hoewell.

  -Sierra to Malachi

  MALACHI

  “Can you switch shifts with me?” Peterson, another officer at the KPD, asked.

  I shook my head. “No can do. Tomorrow I’m having dinner with my girl’s family. I’m sorry.”

  Peterson looked dejected as he said, “Shit. I was worried you were going to say that.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He looked sick to his stomach.

  “My wife is having our babies tomorrow, and I was hoping to find someone to cover my shift so I didn’t have to call in sick and leave them in a bind,” he said.

  I almost caved, but I knew that with tomorrow being Thanksgiving, it was a likelihood that the entire city would be a ghost town.

  “Talk to the chief,” I suggested. “He’ll find something. Good luck, man.”

  Peterson offered me his hand. “You’re right.”

  I was.

  With that parting comment, I turned and hurried back to the locker room.

  We’d just gotten a SWAT call that sounded promising.

  The city had been a ghost town over the last couple of days, and it almost felt like the calm before the storm.

  Hell, even the grocery stores weren’t all that busy.

  And that was highly unusual the day before the biggest cooking holiday of the year.

  Meaning, was it unsurprising that we get a SWAT call a couple hours later?

  Nope.

  It was par for the course, honestly.

  After loading up, Bennett sat in the back of the truck with us and read over something on his computer screen.

  “We’re serving a warrant,” Bennett called out. “Man we’re serving a warrant to is suspected of child sex trafficking. This isn’t going to be an easy, routine one. This man has an eighteen thousand square foot home that’s armored like Fort Knox.”

  Saint, who was sitting next to me, touched his hand to the top of his K-9’s head. His K-9, Smoke, flattened his ears in reaction.

  Saint was the logical choice for K-9 handler since he’d worked with them in his stint in the military. Only, according to Saint, he was more of a cat person, and it showed when he was with Smoke.

  Smoke was a two-and-a-half-year-old male Belgian Malinois that had been donated to the SWAT team via a silent donor. Smoke had been trained by a couple of the most prominent K-9 trainers in the south. The trainers just so happened to belong to The Dixie Wardens MC in Benton, Louisiana. A couple of the members of the Dixie Wardens actually happened to be a part of the Kilgore Police Department, meaning that the silent donor was probably Ford’s father himself.

  “Suspected?” Foster snorted from his spot in the front of the armored vehicle. “This isn’t a suspected anything. That motherfucker is as crooked as a fork in the road.”

  There were a couple of snickers through the vehicle.

  Today we had about half of our SWAT team with us.

  Usually the team doubled up when we did big calls like this, but since it was Thanksgiving, or almost, a lot of them had the day off and were either on their way out of town, or preparing for tomorrow.

  “Whether he’s suspected or not, this isn’t going to be an easy serve notice. This is going to take us using force to get in there after they realize what’s happening,” Bennett murmured as he looked at each of us. “We’re pairing with another area SWAT team, Longview, to do this. Now, study the map I just sent to your phones and tell me if you have any questions.”

  Everyone took their time on the way to the call to look at the maps Bennett had sent out to familiarize themselves with the layout.

  “We gonna try to just knock on the front door?” Saint asked curiously from my side.

  “No,” he said. “Place has eight-foot tall security fencing around the perimeter. I’ve noted a weak spot in the area where I think we might be able to enter. John is back at base also looking to help with the electr
onic end if we need it.”

  John was our computer guru who never much left the offices anymore. He was always there when we needed him, though.

  “Sweet,” I sighed. “Just exactly what I needed the day before Thanksgiving. We’ll be home by tomorrow, right?”

  Bennett’s amused eyes met mine. “I sure hope so, or my wife won’t be very happy.”

  Four hours later, the warrant had been served, we’d all missed lunch, and it was time for me to go home.

  Thank God.

  Since Sierra was working today, I chose to run by the store before heading home to my place—that I hadn’t so much as stepped foot in since I’d started all this with Sierra—and grab a few changes of clothes.

  Just as I was looking out the window at my lawn and contemplating running the lawnmower over it before I headed to my Gran’s place to do the same, I saw my Gran walking up the length of my walk with Bobo in tow.

  She looked quite pissed, too.

  I opened the door to my place and raised a brow at her. “What’s up?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Where have you been all day, young man?”

  My lips tipped up into a swift smile that quickly fell off my face when I saw my father’s vehicle rolling down the length of the road heading toward my place.

  Just as I was about to say something, I found my grandmother’s hand in my gut as she pushed me roughly into my house and practically slammed the door closed.

  She peeked out the blinds moments later. “Did they see us?”

  I looked out the blinds above her head and said, “They don’t seem to have. What’s going on?”

  “Call that girl of yours and tell her that she has to hide,” Grans said. “They’re crazy!”

  I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I pulled out my phone anyway and made the call.

  She didn’t answer, so I left a voicemail.

  “All right, now that’s done, tell me what’s going on with my parents?” I ordered.

  CHAPTER 18

  Can we start the weekend over again? I wasn’t ready.

  -Sierra’s Secret thoughts

  SIERRA

  Gabriel,