Fire Burns Hot ((An FBI/ Romance Thriller~ (Book 5)))

by Kelley, Morgan

  For now though, that had to stay quiet or the Army would break them apart for their own well-being. Then the holy hell would erupt for him hiding the truth and fraternizing with a lower ranked female officer. You’d think sex in the Army was the next great evil. That too was don’t ask, don’t tell, and sure as hell don’t get busted doing it. Tori willingly followed Sergeant First Class Quinn Laramie into the back alley, scanning every shadow as she went.

  Deja vu.

  Something felt off. Everything in her was screaming in warning, and Tori needed to alert her partner. Before she could, the motion caught her eye. There was a man in the shadows, and he was armed with a gun.

  The pop, pop, pop was a familiar sound. It was sickening and heart wrenching all at once. Before Tori could raise her gun, the man she loved stepped in front of her, taking the shots to his body. The nauseating jerk of his form, as bullets hit his vest, ripping her into the reality of the situation. Pulling up her gun, she fired into the shadows, listening to the guttural hiss of the man that just fired at them, as he too was hit. Tori had no qualms with ending his disgusting life.

  But it was too late. Fate had been set free, and they were both about to be her victims. Life as they both knew it was about to change and the path they were on together was altered too. Quinn’s was coming to the end, and hers was being sent down a lonely stretch of desolation.

  As if in slow motion, Tori watched her partner fall to the ground and instinctively training took over. Grabbing him by the back of the flak jacket, she pulled him behind cover in the alley. By now the rest of their team would have heard the gunfire.

  Tori sat protectively beside the fallen man, and kept one eye on the alley, as more of their unit slowly appeared. No longer were they creeping through the dark, but running towards the imminent danger. There were shouts! Some in Arabic and some in English, but the ones she did hear she understood.

  ‘Death to the Americans!’

  ‘There’s more over there!’

  ‘End their lives!’

  ‘Help is coming, Sergeant! Hang in there!’

  More gunfire filled the small area, as bullets hit the concrete wall just above both their heads. Tori leaned protectively over Quinn, and began field triage. She desperately searched his body for blood and any bullet entry wounds.

  Tori knew she’d find them. The smell was overpowering her, and she already knew the truth. The man she loved had taken a hit- the one meant for her.

  “My leg,” he said, hissing through the pain.

  Tori inspected the fatigues, pulling out the tiny flashlight from her pocket. Ripping open his battle scarred pants at the entry point, her hand came away bloody.

  Shit! She knew the truth and wished for a moment, where she was oblivious to the facts.

  “You took a hit to the leg, Quinn,” she stated evenly, placing pressure on the wound and leaning over his body. “You’ll be okay, stay with me,” Tori lied with everything she had in her to keep him calm.

  Quinn Laramie stared up at the woman that was his partner. When they entered the alley, he saw the movement in the shadows. It only took a second to know she was going to die. Quinn did what he was trained to do, but also what his heart demanded. After all, he made her follow him into the darkness. Now he had one mission left before he was gone.

  Quinn had to protect his woman.

  “Tori, I love you,” he said softly. “I’ll always love you.”

  It wasn’t going to end this way, she wasn’t going to let it. “I’ve got you, Quinn. The medics are coming soon.” Tori stared down at the blood puddling beneath them and was afraid. He took a shot to his artery and it didn’t look good. “I need to apply pressure, baby. This may hurt.”

  He nodded, as she began her probing. Bloodied fingers pushed into the bleeding wound, trying to stop the femoral gush.

  He screamed in pain, and his body bowed.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over. Not only for hurting him, but because she was the reason he’d been hit. Quinn took the shot for her, and it was going to cost him his life.

  Already Quinn’s eyes began to show signs of losing life.

  They were looking dull, and droopy.

  “I love you, Tori. I’m sorry we didn’t get married.”

  Emotion choked her, as she kept pressure on the wound on his thigh. “I love you too, Quinn.” Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss. As she pulled away, he grabbed her by the vest.

  “You get out of the military and go home! Promise that you’ll listen to me! You call my friend Gabriel Rothschild. He’s head of the FBI out of Quantico. You tell him I sent you, and he’ll take care of you.”

  Tori nodded. She’d do anything he asked, if he just lived. Immediately, she began praying as the medics finally reached her side.

  As they assessed him amid the gunfire, she sat protectively beside them, gun up and ready. His hand had been on her knee, and when it slipped off, falling to the ground Tori just knew.

  The scream tore from her lips, as the truth haunted her. Quinn was gone, dead, and no longer hers. Nothing in life was ever going to be the same again.

  Tori bolted upright in bed, the sweat covering her body, as the familiar dream scared and tormented her yet again.

  It was always the same horrible nightmare.

  The horrors and the pain were always the same, even if it was almost four years later. The man she loved died because of her. Quinn was taken from this world protecting her, and now she was alone.

  It was always the same thing. Next came the tears. They always arrived shortly after the dream was gone. The cleansing purge of pain hurt, and anger never made her feel better- only worse.

  It looked like the day was starting exactly as it usually did. Tori was alone, scared, and weeping over a man she loved and lost.

  All she wanted was to sleep one night without seeing his face and knowing it was all going to end. How she wished it was her that took that bullet in the alley.

  Because then there’d be peace.

  Monday Mid-Morning

  Elizabeth Blackhawk sat at the desk in her office, working on the mountain of paperwork that her husband had left behind. Here she assumed that he was kidding, when he stated there was a paperwork present in her ‘To Do’ bin. This wasn’t a present! This was some method of torture and revenge. The man needed a refresher on what constituted a gift.

  She’d bet her cowboy boots and belt buckle on it.

  Part of her believed that she’d been set up. Yes, Ethan Blackhawk put up resistance when they decided one of them should remain home with their child, but now Elizabeth suspected it was a well-orchestrated trap. They’d agreed to flip for it, and he’d lost.

  But then again, she never asked to see the coin. When he put on the disappointed face, Elizabeth fell for it, as he hopped on the jet to Quantico.

  DAMN IT! She was conned!

  These were mandatory meetings, and both of them should be there, but their boss allowed one of them to skip out. Somehow Elizabeth believed this was his plan all along. This felt like evil payback from when she was away on maternity leave. Ethan had been forced to play office emperor alone, and now she saw why he was bitching about it daily.

  This completely sucked. If it wasn’t for her administrative assistant, Jameson Crow, she’d be screwed. He was holding her together by making sure all the papers were ready for her signature. Half of them Elizabeth just signed at the arrow, praying she wasn’t selling her soul or her first born child to the federal government.

  Next time, she was taking the trip back east. This paperwork gig wasn’t for her. Elizabeth was definitely not the standard boss, and that suited her just fine. What Elizabeth lacked in management skills, she had in toughness, crassness, and shooting ability. As far as she was concerned, that was more than enough to survive in life.

  Deep down there was an itch brewing. One that Elizabeth knew was going to win out at some point. What her little heart desired was to be back out in the field, using her
brain not her pen.

  Since returning back to FBI West from Cypress Grove, her last field work assignment, everything had been relatively calm. The holiday was arriving in less than a week, and Elizabeth was looking forward to it. It was CJ’s first Christmas, and the family was beyond excited.

  The other highlight of the season was that this was also their first Christmas as a unique couple.

  It wasn’t just sexy Ethan Blackhawk in her life. Oh no, even with his wickedly delicious body, silky black hair and midnight blue eyes, her heart decided she had room for more. There was another man that had laid claim to her heart too. In fact, Callen Whitefox had buried himself deep in her soul, making himself an indelible part of her life. He was just as tall as Ethan and the same sexy canvas with tattooed art. Yet there were small differences that Elizabeth had come to love. Callen’s eyes were a dreamy chocolate color and his hair was longer and a silky brown. It was like the color of a really rich coffee.

  What could she say? Elizabeth was madly in love with two Native brothers. Finally their hearts were complete, and all it took was stepping outside the norm and taking a chance.

  Together they had ventured down a path towards a different type of relationship, risking a bad end result, but instead finding absolute bliss. If there was sexy man karma, Elizabeth had fallen into a deep pit of it. Some people feared fate, but not her.

  Bring it on!

  Life was so damn good, that it had her bedding down between two of the sexiest men in the universe. Did people stare when they were out in public? Absolutely! Were there comments and speculation at work? Sure.

  Elizabeth just didn’t give a rat’s ass!

  Your heart loved who it loved, and they were living the one shot at happiness in life on their own terms. Ethan Blackhawk and Callen Whitefox were the loves of her life, and she was a sucker for the men in her family. They were the enigma that filled her life and her bed.

  Once back from the Cypress Grove assignment, life simply carried on normally. They all got up, went to work, and searched for justice. As of now, Callen was away on an assignment. It made her a nervous wreck when he was in the field and not by their sides. Only because, he was still new at the whole ‘agent’ thing. But like a good partner, she put her faith in his ability and training. Callen was Director of Native American Affairs, and was in the middle of mediating between a reservation issue and a local police department squabble.

  Glancing down, Elizabeth admired the two rings sitting together on her finger. One from Ethan, the day they married on the Rez. The other was from Callen, on the day they’d made a commitment to each other. Granted she and Whitefox wouldn’t ever be able to make a trip down the aisle, they still took vows and stood by them. Some promises didn’t need paper to back them up.

  Wearing their rings meant something to Elizabeth. They were a symbol of love and pride. From day one, she was never ashamed of the union into which they entered.

  Once they told Wyler Blackhawk, Ethan and Callen’s father, the truth about their situation, he accounted many stories from his own childhood. His father had often regaled Wyler with the tales of braves going off and marrying the same woman. It wasn’t anything new to those that could remember back that long ago. Native instinct simply had kicked in a few generations too late. After all, a warrior was still a warrior, despite the year and the occupation.

  To her heart, none of it mattered. Elizabeth didn’t need a rationalization on the situation. The men were hers, and she was going to protect, love and cherish them all. It was her job since Timothy Blackhawk had died. Elizabeth promised him she’d protect his boys, and she was doing just that. Guarding over them, loving them and making them all a cohesive family.

  So far, it was all perfect.

  As of late, even work was running smoothly being co-directors of FBI West, Elizabeth and Ethan had vastly different styles of being boss. Her husband was reserved, lived in a suit, and played staunchly by the rules. This was completely ironic, since his nickname was ‘Cowboy’. At one time he used to play hard and fast with just about everything, including his life. Now he was the ‘F’ in FBI. The man gave Federal a whole new definition.

  Her preferred style of management was far more relaxed and laid back. Most of the time, Elizabeth wore her customary boots, jeans and simple shirt to the office. In her opinion, the minions were far more nervous around her when she was laid back and relaxed. There was always the propensity to strike, and it kept them on their toes. Once in a while, Elizabeth would break out the ‘director-wear’, just to stir up the staff. It didn’t hurt that it made the Natives very restless too.

  Elizabeth turned in her chair, taking in the spacious office. The windows opened up to a gorgeous view over the valley. The tall green lushness of the Rez was on the horizon’s landscape. After Timothy Blackhawk’s death, it was as close to the reservation as any of them wanted to get. Once they lost the patriarch of the family, the remaining Blackhawks, with the exception of Wyler, didn’t have the heart to head to his abandoned home. The new patriarch of the family had converted it to a studio to work on his business. Any trips there were to take his grandson for a walk. The family homestead had a plethora of Timothy ghosts there, and no one wanted to confront the achingly painful memories.

  Turning further in her chair, Elizabeth’s gaze slid across the bookshelf behind her. It was scattered with books and little mementos that touched her personally. There were snapshots of her precious son, CJ, and they warmed her heart. One was of Ethan holding his child, and the resemblance was clearly visible. Already CJ’s eyes were the same dark blue. The wild hair was no longer a mohawk, but more a head full of silky black hair. Elizabeth’s little boy was going to be handsome like his father.

  The other obvious trait was the infamous grin. Already it was present, as it couldn’t be missed. All the men in the family had inherited it, using it at every damn opportunity. Women in general fell like stones into the river, sinking deep into the sexiness of the smile. Unfortunately for Elizabeth, she was no different, and they all knew it.

  One look and she melted. ‘The Blackhawk boys’ used it at every opportunity and reveled in her helplessness.

  There was one picture that she treasured most. It was the one of all the family together, one last time. It was taken weeks before she and Callen had become a couple. Ironically, it was snapped by his then fiancée. Desdemona had offered to take the family portrait for them at a backyard barbeque. It was taken right before Timothy passed away, going off to the great hunting grounds in the sky. He was lovingly cradling CJ in his arms, his boys teasingly holding Elizabeth across the front of their bodies. Wyler looked on laughing at the silliness of his sons. At the time no one knew of the explosion and devastation looming ahead of them. Soon Timothy would die, Desdemona would betray Callen, and life would begin anew for them all.

  Fate had a way of knocking you off your feet, when you least expected it. The photograph was an ever diligent reminder that they were all connected and all hers.

  Thank God that the love continually overwhelmed her, helping to beat back the sadness of loss.

  The ringing of her phone pulled Elizabeth back to reality. Glancing down at the incoming number, she grinned in sheer pleasure.

  “Hello love bug,” she whispered seductively into the phone, trying to not giggle.

  Ethan Blackhawk paused, caught completely off guard, and then began laughing at the nickname. It was one she gave him on the second day Elizabeth knew him. On occasion she’d whip it out, to trip him up and warm his heart. “Hello, sweet cheeks. Do you miss me?” he asked.

  Just the silky smooth voice curled the lust deep in her belly. “Oh, darlin’, I can’t tell you how much. I wish you were right here with me. Then I could sit in your lap and tell you what I was just thinking about.”

  Ethan was pretty sure what she was contemplating, after all, hadn’t he been doing the exact same thing? “When I get home, you can meet me on the couch, and we’ll revisit this conversation… repeate
dly.”

  Elizabeth knew then that someone was in the room with him. He wasn’t being his lecherous self. “You have company.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, is it that obvious?”

  Now there was the need to torture him. “Remember those really sinful lace panties you bought me. The red and black ones?” she questioned, dropping her voice to a low purr.

  Blackhawk swallowed, realizing that calling his wife while surrounded by other directors was going to be a horrible tactical error on his behalf. “Yes.”

  There was an audible gulp.

  “I’m wearing them right now, Cowboy. Maybe I’ll send you a picture later.”

  Immediately, his mind went there. How could it not? Elizabeth Blackhawk was an outrageously gorgeous woman. She was tall, lithe, and all that really wild hair; his body tightened uncomfortably thinking about her. Both he and his brother knew they won the ‘hot woman’ lottery tenfold.

  “When you get home, I’ll wear something really wild from the lingerie drawer. I’ll let you pick anything you want, big guy.”

  “Elizabeth,” he started to warn her.

  “Maybe the black one you bought me. How about the see-through one with the really tiny G-string?”

  Now Blackhawk was suffering for his naivety. He’d just pictured her in the vixen like concoction he purchased for her. Yeah, it was going to be a long meeting filled day with that in his head.

  Elizabeth giggled at his silence. At home they had a special lingerie drawer. In an effort to break her husband of his constant need for rigorous control, she’d implemented a policy. If you buy and place something sexy in the drawer, it would get worn to bed.

  The only problem?

  The men went way overboard. They over filled the drawer. It went from one, to three, and now it was half the dresser. Elizabeth owned more sexy panties than Victoria Secret. Both men took it to the extreme in hope she’d pull out something frilly and daring daily, allowing them to live out their wildest fantasies. Elizabeth had yet to let either of them down.

  “The one with the little red bows?” he whispered into the phone. Ethan preferred black lacy things. To him they were completely erotic and sinful. Something about his tough, bad ass wife in girly things made him completely crazy.