Revenge has Come (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 19)

by Morgan Kelley

  Loneliness.

  He hated it.

  Ethan had never been more afraid in all of his life. At this point, he’d been in contact with his brother. They’d mended the fence. He was no longer angry with him.

  Callen forgave him.

  He forgave Callen.

  Honestly, the man was doing exactly what he asked him to do. He told him stick by her no matter what, and he’d done just that. He’d kept his word.

  Now he was helping Ethan repair what had happened.

  If that was possible.

  Each night, for the last three weeks, Ethan called his kids, told them he loved them, and read to them on the tablet. Each night, it was Callen who answered the ping, and never her.

  She’d meant what she said. She wanted silence the next three weeks while he worked on himself. Elizabeth had cut off all communication with him.

  That made him nervous. Would she be there when he showed up? Would she take him back?

  At that moment, he wasn’t sure.

  All he had was hope.

  The last three weeks had been brutal without a text, call, or message from her.

  Still, he kept going.

  Forward, never back.

  God!

  He missed her so damn much that it hurt.

  Ethan wanted to see her.

  He wanted to hold her, but she felt like she was a million miles away from him and simply out of reach.

  He’d told her he never wanted to see her again, and she gave him his wish.

  He was King Midas. He had everything but he wanted more. He touched the relationship, and it ended. He’d turned his life to gold, and in the process lost his soul.

  God!

  He was so empty without her.

  Without Callen.

  Their kids.

  Hell!

  He even missed Chris.

  That was okay. He was nearing the end of the finish line. He could see the victory in sight.

  He was heading home.

  To his love.

  To his wife.

  To his life.

  On the chain around his neck, as a constant reminder, he wore his wife’s rings. One day, if he was lucky, she’d let him slip them back onto her finger. One day, she’d forgive him.

  Or not.

  All he knew was he was done.

  He’d done his job. He’d held up alone, and he was finished.

  Talking off his badge and gun, he scribbled a note and left them on Gabe’s desk.

  He would be back tomorrow, and by then, Ethan would be in Salem.

  If they quit, he quit.

  If his wife never came back…he was staying by her side. Screw prestige, power, and the DC beast.

  He was going home to be with his wife and husband. They had memories to make, dreams to live, and a life they’d built.

  Only, he prayed his wife was going to welcome him there. He couldn’t blame her. He was a horrible person, and he knew it. His jealousy festered, and he’d made her choose.

  Well, he’d lost.

  Now it was be angry, or it was tuck his tail between his legs and find love again.

  It was a no brainer.

  The media kept whispering of infidelity.

  They kept trying to plaster his face with other women all over the internet—including the Secretary of Defense.

  All Ethan could hope was Elizabeth would believe him, and see through his messages in his journal.

  He would never stray.

  He’d hold on until the end of his life.

  He’d learned a valuable lesson that he should have gotten from the very start.

  Her past didn’t matter.

  Only she did.

  Now it was time.

  Heading out of the FBI building, he wasn’t sure if it was for the last time. Ethan was staying where his family was, even if he had to sleep in the yard.

  He was going to be a father.

  Be a husband.

  Be a better person.

  Ethan needed a second chance. He needed redemption. The only way to get it?

  Ethan Blackhawk, in order to get back the only woman he’d ever love, had to give up the mistress that monopolized his time.

  He was done with the FBI.

  For his wife.

  For his family.

  Forever.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  U.S. Marshal’s Office

  Washington DC

  Dakota Rakin was pissed.

  No, that was an understatement.

  He was furious!

  That was the only way he could explain how he was feeling to anyone around him.

  Why was he so angry, bitter, and on the edge?

  One name.

  Bonnie.

  She was still out there, and no matter how far and wide he chased her, she was still out of his reach. It was like she was some freaking magician, using illusions to hide from them.

  They were the freaking Marshals.

  How the hell was she doing it?

  There was no way she was on her own. There had to be a slew of people keeping her hidden. They were using every Federal resource to hunt her down, and she was evading each and every one.

  They froze her passport with Homeland Security.

  She was flagged in the FBI database if her name, DNA, or prints popped up.

  They froze every asset they could find of hers, Filip Howe’s, and her deceased father’s. She was penniless.

  How was she pulling this off?

  Dakota was pretty damn sure that wherever she was, Bonnie was having a damn good chuckle at his expense, and he couldn’t blame her.

  He was the laughing stock of the US Marshals.

  Period.

  Why shouldn’t he be?

  They were stumped.

  The woman was a freaking ghost, and they couldn’t catch her.

  On top of his frustration, there was the fact that his boss, Director Marcus Hunter, was about done with all of the money, time, and resources being wasted on the case.

  Done—meaning not another penny was being used to hunt down Bonnie the fugitive—not one cent.

  He wanted it tied up in a pretty bow.

  Only, Dakota couldn’t let it go so easily.

  Bonnie had killed one of their own, taking his partner, Debra Moore, out in the line of duty. He wanted payback for her death, and he was going to get it.

  How could he forget?

  Her face was on the wall when Dakota walked into work each day, and he had to face her, knowing they’d fucked it up. Had he been ready, more proactive, or on guard, Debra might still be alive.

  This was on him.

  This was his guilt to carry.

  As far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t rest until she was captured.

  Or dead…

  Dakota was on the hunt. Lottie Tipton, AKA Bonnie, was still on the lam, but he was going to catch her.

  That was an understatement.

  He was going to end her life.

  She deserved it. He was pretty sure that she was killing all over the place. They’d had bodies popping up where it matched her MO. Then she’d go back under, hiding again.

  Bonnie was a slippery snake.

  She and Clyde had been Christmas killers, and now it was one big hit, off with the victim’s head, and back under. It was like she was only popping up to get money and jewelry, and then disappearing again.

  It was making tracking her one hell of a bitch.

  Iowa.

  Mississippi.

  Kentucky.

  There was no pattern. It was random. She switched it up, and the US Marshals were sitting around with their thumbs up their asses.

  Correction.

  He was sitting around.

  If something didn’t give, the shit was really going to hit the fan, and Dakota knew where he’d be standing in the shit fest.

  Right in front.

  The only good thing going on in his life?

  De
puty Director Blackhawk stopped leaning on them to get their asses moving. For the last few weeks, he’d left the unit alone, as if he was way too busy to be bothered. Since the man was now carrying the FBI, they had some breathing room.

  Before then?

  He’d been hell on wheels.

  Apparently, Ethan wanted the woman found, so she couldn’t take a shot at his wife. Now that Elizabeth had seemingly disappeared from DC, he clearly stopped caring as much.

  Oh, well.

  It bought them time.

  That was what they needed.

  If he got called in front of the Director of Homeland Security or the President of the United States one more time, he was going to flip his shit.

  He was over his failure as much as they were—maybe more.

  “Hey, do you want coffee?” his partner asked.

  Dakota looked up.

  “What, Sarah?” he asked. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something.”

  Oh, she was sure he was.

  And she could guess what too.

  Bonnie.

  It was always about Bonnie.

  She shook her head in exasperation. “I asked if you want some coffee. You look like you’ve been up all night stressing the case.”

  He had been.

  Only, it wasn’t only Bonnie.

  He had five other fugitives he was working on, and it was taking a toll. All work and zero play had made Dakota a very dull boy.

  There weren’t enough hours in his days to effectively do his damn job.

  “Yeah, Sarah, thank you. I could definitely use some caffeine.”

  He watched the blonde head toward the coffeepot in their DC office. Deputy Sarah Valley wasn’t a bad partner, and she was definitely not bad in bed.

  He should know.

  He’d already slept with her more than a few times.

  Dakota, in a moment of weakness, as he was supposed to be training her, forgot his manners. Instead of teaching her the ropes, they’d ended up in a tangle of sheets. Oh, someone had been tied up, all right.

  Now he was stuck with the whole mess.

  He’d screwed up.

  Dakota got the impression that his partner thought it was going somewhere. The way she smiled at him, was always around when he least expected it, and was continually trying to get in his pants…it told the tale.

  Well, she was wrong.

  Dakota had that one love of his life, and she’d scorned him. He’d been head over heels in love with Elizabeth LaRue, and she turned his marriage proposal down.

  Since her, he couldn’t get involved in a sticky relationship. Women were just not worth it. Sex was sex, and love was love. They couldn’t cross paths, or someone got hurt.

  Him.

  Honestly, he didn’t trust women. They said one thing, but they didn’t always mean it.

  So, Sarah, while a good partner in the streets, wasn’t what he was looking for long term. He simply couldn’t picture himself tied to another person.

  Now, he could eat where he wanted.

  Sleep where he wanted.

  Play where he wanted.

  She simply wasn’t getting it, and her persistence was paying off.

  He was trapped.

  If he could only stop screwing her. That was the issue. How was he supposed to put his man junk away on a permanent basis? Every time she showed up at his place, they ended up naked on the floor.

  The counter.

  The bed.

  The washing machine.

  It was out of hand.

  Don’t get him wrong. A sexy, younger woman wanted him. That was one hell of an ego stroke if he ever saw one, but he knew it wasn’t going anywhere.

  Dakota didn’t want to hurt her.

  Sarah was a really sweet woman.

  “Here you go, sexy,” she whispered, placing it down on the desk for him.

  “Sarah,” he said, trying to figure out how to get her to understand. She was basically a kid. She was fresh out of college, and she didn’t have a clue.

  He had boots older than her. When he had been in the military, he had been her age.

  That was so long ago…

  Besides, truth be told, Dakota had nothing to offer her. He was broken. He’d done his penance in the military, and hated it. He couldn’t wait to get the hell out as soon as his stint was over.

  He’d run from it.

  Then he’d started as a US Marshal and fallen in love with the job. It was the best thing in his life. It healed him after Elizabeth LaRue had broken him.

  Now, here was his focus.

  It couldn’t be on a twenty-something woman who could be his daughter.

  Still…

  She was sexy as sin, and she gave the most amazing head. He didn’t even want to know where she’d learned that trick. It pissed him off to even think of another man’s junk near her mouth.

  That was another reason he had to run.

  Jealousy meant feelings.

  He couldn’t have those.

  When she sat, he got caught staring at her chest.

  It made her laugh.

  “We can’t do this here,” he said, forcing his gaze into her baby blue eyes. “We can’t even pretend…”

  She got it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, sipping her coffee.

  Oh, he doubted that.

  “Liar.”

  She snorted.

  “You got me. I can’t help it. I was thinking about the other night. Want to grab dinner tonight? By dinner, I meant me,” she offered. “You can be the appetizer, and I’ll be dessert.”

  God!

  He went there in his mind, and he could feel his body stirring with need.

  She did this to him.

  He was going to freaking Hell.

  She’s barely a child.

  She’s barely a child.

  She’s barely a…

  “Well?” she asked.

  It took everything he had not to go there. He wanted to in the worst way, but this wasn’t about her. There was a time and a place for fornication, and this wasn’t it.

  Dakota had to catch this bitch.

  Until he found Bonnie, he was a one mission man. Bonnie was ruining his street cred. He’d tracked for the military, taking out the bad guys, and now he tracked for the Marshals, trying to balance the scales of justice.

  “Listen, about that,” he began.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We can’t roll around anymore. It’s a very bad idea, Sarah,” he whispered, praying that his boss, Marcus Hunter, didn’t take a stroll into the room.

  He’d shit a brick with them just sitting there, let alone doing the pussy talk. Heads would roll.

  “We can talk about it later,” Sarah said, pulling back her blonde hair. “It’ll wait.”

  Dakota couldn’t believe this woman wouldn’t take a hint. She just didn’t get it. Was he not being clear?

  Was he not being blunt?

  What did he have to do?

  Draw pictures?

  “Anyway,” Sarah said, loving how he was flustered. Dakota Rakin was a sexy man, and when he flushed red, she couldn’t help herself. The blush would race up his neck, right to the roots of his sexily mussed brown hair.

  It was hot.

  She couldn’t help that he fulfilled all her lust fantasies. The man just got her wet.

  And…

  She was falling for him, and she couldn’t help it.

  Instead of freaking him out more, she went with work. She’d torment him later in bed.

  “Some intel came in, and you might be interested,” she offered.

  Sarah handed him the file.

  Dakota scanned it, until he found what he was looking for in the mess of details.

  “Heads are starting to roll,” he said. “Literally.”

  “Yeah, the Mid-West office thought it might be Bonnie, but the cause of death wasn’t a normal knife.”

  He flipped through the autopsy r
eport to find the COD of the ‘found’ victim.

  “It looks like an ax?” he said to no one in particular. “That’s definitely new.”

  Sarah agreed with him there.

  “I thought that was odd, but you know Bonnie best. Could she be screwing with us?” she asked. “You know how this is all about being a game to her.”

  Yeah, she liked to screw with people, and she knew he was on the hunt.

  So, Dakota thought about it.

  “Yeah, she could be. Bonnie has a way of morphing into whatever she needs to be. We can thank her other ego, Lottie Tipton, the actress. She goes under and switches it up.”

  “What’s she got?” Sarah asked. “Is she bipolar, schizophrenic, or a psychopath?”

  “Ethan Blackhawk tagged her as split personality disorder, but she’s an isolated case. She can control the shift. He believes it’s from something bad in her past.”

  “Her father molesting her?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah, he thinks so. Old men touching girls is always damaging.”

  She winked at him. “Not always.”

  He got rock hard.

  Damn her!

  “Focus,” he ordered, even though he wasn’t focused all that much himself. He was thinking about sex, and nothing more.

  Still…

  “So, she used an ax? That might help us narrow down her pattern,” he said, trying to work.

  “If she’s switching it up, Dak, what if she’s been playing, using this MO now instead? We’ve been tracking headless victims left in a dumpster, but what if we fine-tuned it? We might find headless victims who lost their heads by ax in a dumpster.”

  He thought about it.

  “Yeah, let’s fine-tune it, Sarah. With Bonnie, you can’t risk letting anything slip by. She’s tricky as hell.”

  Yeah, and deadly.

  She was taking out victims without them even noticing. The last time they’d caught her on camera, she looked like she was a teenager.

  She was good at morphing.

  Sarah sat at her desk and began refining her search through the database.

  A few victims popped up.

  “You found some already?” he asked, moving around their joined desks to read over her shoulder.

  She turned her face and could smell his cologne. She wanted to lick her way to his mouth, but he’d freak the hell out. It took everything not to do it.

  Sarah couldn’t help that she was sexually aroused by the man whenever he was near.