First, I have to be smart. I have to pay attention. I have to be more prepared than I was yesterday morning.
Yesterday.
Fuck.
How has so much happened in so little time?
Opening the back gate, I grab the last of our supplies and head back up the steps to find Grace wiping down the countertops and humming to, what else … “We’ve Got Tonight.” I just shake my head at the wonder of it all.
Destiny.
Fate.
Would God give me Grace and then take her away so cruelly?
I carry the bags to the bedroom and throw them against the wall. I answer that question with a resounding YES.
Children starve and are held up as human shields.
Husbands are ripped away from their wives.
People cheat, lie, steal and kill to get what they want. Even when what they want means nothing.
How am I different?
Two words—I’m not.
Kicking one of the bags, I pick it up and toss it on the bed.
This isn’t a fucking honeymoon.
I have to focus and get us out of here alive.
I dump everything out, then dump the other bag, then the last. I will get our supplies organized. I will get our shit together. I will be watchful. I will stop this love struck crap.
“What’s wrong?”
I will not turn and look at her.
I will focus on this task.
“Link, baby, talk to me.”
My cock twitches. She called me baby.
Focus, asshole.
Medical supplies. Clothes. Identification. Money.
Her hand strokes down my back.
Who am I kidding?
I turn on her. Turn to her. I pull her against me hard. She cries out, but she knows. She knows, because of course she knows. She knows everything.
Our lips crash together and I pick her up, pulling her on top of me to the bed. She straddles me, grinding into me, her tongue twisting with mine.
“Yes,” she moans as I bite down her jawline to her neck. I unbuckle the sling, trying to be careful, but I’m not careful. I need her too much. I need her. Please God, I need her.
“Don’t stop,” she says when I try to find some control and begins to lower the zipper of her jacket. I push it from her shoulders and down her arms, then pull her tank up over her breasts.
She grits her teeth and hisses out, “Don’t stop. Pain and pleasure.”
Her nipples are hard pebbles under my tongue. The nails of her left hand are sharp in my back. Our breath is ragged as we push off the rest of our clothes.
Then I’m in her. She’s sinking onto me, impaling herself on my cock. So hot. So tight. So wet for me. Our eyes meet as we connect, as she settles all the way into my lap.
“I love you,” she says against my lips, her eyes still open. The lovely green so close to mine.
“I love you,” I tell her. And I do. So much. So very much.
Her pussy clenches once, twice, three times around my cock. She grins, a look so totally feline and feminine I nearly come. Then she leans forward, only her hurt arm between us and traces my lips with her tongue. I capture it; suck it into my mouth until she moans.
Only then does she begin to move.
“Rock, sweetheart,” I say into her mouth. “Rock on me, don’t bounce.”
I circle my hands around her hips, supporting her, moving her. Gliding her back and forth on my cock.
She whimpers, her body pulsing around me. I rock her faster and watch her eyes roll back in her head.
“Heaven,” she breathes as our bodies please each other. Take and give.
“Heaven,” I agree.
Faster, I move her. Harder, she breathes. I feel my sack pull tighter against my body.
I fight it. Will it to wait. Wait for the whimper that’s my cue.
It comes.
And she comes. Her head falls back, her body shaking around me.
As I watch this beautiful woman lose all control, I release and lose control too. I feel everything. I feel the semen move up my shaft. Shoot through my head. I feel immense gratification and pleasure. I feel the glory of my essence combining with hers.
Our mouths come together again. Breathing life into each other.
Until we calm.
I hold her, connected to me. Linked to me by grace.
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you,” I reply.
Then I lay her gently on the bed, our bodies curling around each other and close my eyes.
We’ve got tonight.
We’ll figure the rest of it out tomorrow.
Chapter 14
I barely have time to lean back in my chair when there’s a knock on my door. I lift the cup of coffee to my lips before answering. “Enter.”
The door opens and there are footsteps behind me. “Sir, the forensic results of the Duffy property have been returned.”
Turning my chair, I look up at him. “Earlier than anticipated.”
“Yes, we gained access to the property more easily than expected.”
“And?”
“No human remains were discovered, sir.”
I turn back to the window, my gaze following a cloud creeping across the sky. “What was discovered?”
“Apple iPhone, sir. The phone believed to have received the message from Captain Fink.”
“Were we able to read the device records? Have you accessed the cellular activity logs?”
“Yes, sir. We have. One incoming call the morning of the sixteenth from the home of Captain Fink, sir. The call was not accepted and a voice message was left by the captain at 8:13 a.m.”
There is a rustle of paper behind me and I turn again to read the transcript of the message. Code Winter.
“Was the message accessed?”
“Yes, sir. The message playback was activated at 8:19 a.m., sir. Four minutes after the explosion.”
Four minutes after Sergeant Lincoln Duffy was supposed to be dead.
I stand, slamming down the empty glass. “Why wasn’t I made aware of this message sooner?”
The man lifts his chin. “Sir, as you recall, it was assumed Sergeant Duffy was deceased until approximately two hours ago. If you will remember, you were not available to receive that information at that time.”
I sit back down, tampering the rage and turn back toward the window. The sky. “What else?”
“Additionally, sir. A black 2011 Ford Explorer was reported stolen from the back parking lot of a shopping center less than three miles from the Duffy property that same morning.”
“Security cameras?”
“Yes, sir. At 9:17 a.m., the security camera viewing that section of the lot was destroyed.”
“Has the route of the Explorer been determined?”
“Yes, sir. The Explorer was recorded driving into Los Angeles Airport, sir. It was located in the long-term parking garage. Identity was based on VIN. The plate was switched. We are attempting to locate the vehicle in which it was taken from.”
“Save manpower. That doesn’t matter. Do we know what happened in that garage?”
“We’re still assessing that, sir. Reviewing passenger manifests and surveillance cameras for outgoing flights as well as facial recognition for each vehicle leaving the garage within our approximate time-frame.”
“Focus on the cars. He won’t take a flight. Too risky. Locate the vehicle and trace its path. He’ll change vehicles soon afterwards.”
“Yes, sir. The team is alerted to that possibility.”
I turn back to the window. Thinking. What would I do if I were in Link Duffy’s shoes? “Do you believe the woman is still with him?”
“It is assumed, sir. Her vehicle is abandoned on the Duffy estate. Her phone has not been located and her employer has not been contacted. No withdrawals from her accounts. No phone calls to her family members or friends. Her Skype account has not been accessed, nor any of her social media pages. Nothing from
her, sir.”
Duffy is a boy scout. He won’t kill the woman. Probably won’t abandon her.
I watch a bird land on the ledge of an adjacent building, settle between two pigeons already there. He’ll use these past two days to his ultimate advantage. Get as far away as possible. Use their presumed deaths as his cover.
“Do you have the list of Duffy’s properties yet?”
“Partial list, sir. The case of Sergeant Duffy is more complicated than the others, sir. There are layers of organizational structures that are being pieced together. Aside from the home near Ft. Bragg, which is listed under the name of Allied Construction and Restoration, neither Lincoln Duffy nor Allied is listed as property owner of any other land or home. We did—”
“Keep checking. Extreme wealth makes things easy to hide. Makes people easy to hide. He’s somewhere. He has a plan.”
“Yes, sir. As I was saying, there is a property in Colorado that is owned by a corporation that has links with Allied Construction and Restoration, Link Duffy’s cover corporation. We discovered photographs on Julie Kerry’s computer of her family and Link Duffy outside a log home in a mountainous region with heavy snow as well as a thank you email to Sergeant Duffy for the enjoyable visit to the cabin. We—”
“Send a team.”
“Sir, we—”
“Send a team!” I shout.
I stand again. I’m tired of this waiting. I’m tired of mistakes. This assignment should have been completed weeks ago.
“Must I remind you of the importance of this mission?” I snap at him.
His chin lifts. “No, sir. I’m fully aware of the importance of eliminating these threats to national security.”
“Send a team and eliminate that threat. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” He pauses. “And the woman?”
I look at him, unable to believe he asked me that question.
His eyes flick to the window, but only for a moment. Then he centers back to me.
“Yes, sir.”
Badass (Book 4) — Shattered
Chapter 1 – Duffy
Gggggrrrrr.
In the darkness of the bedroom, I open my eyes to the unfamiliar sound.
Fate.
I remember now.
The little dog growls again and I zero in on her location.
She’s standing at the window, her dark outline barely visible. Her small shape is backlit by the moon shining through the floor to ceiling glass and her fluffy ears are pressed back on her head.
“What’s wrong, girl?” I ask in a low voice and Grace stirs, takes in a deep breath and then her breathing returns to normal. She’s curled next to me, the warmth of her body pressed against mine. Her face is against my shoulder, her knee tossed casually across my leg. The warmth of her sex is against my thigh.
Ggggrrrrrrrr.
The hair on the back of my neck stirs. Not much, but enough.
We’re in the woods. This is Fate’s first night in my home. She could very well be seeing a squirrel or a rabbit. Deer. The stir of the wind against the many trees.
Gggrrrrrrrr.
Slowly, I pull away from Grace’s still form, grabbing the cane, and move along the wall to the window. The dog doesn’t move; doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t leave her vigil.
What does she see?
At the glass, I give my eyes time to adjust before tracking Fate’s gaze. Nothing. Then a movement, the smallest movement of brush.
Fate growls, low in her chest.
I wait.
Watch.
And I see it. A glimmer. A tiny flick of light touching glass and I know.
They’re here.
Moving to the chair, I disconnect the c-leg from the charger and pull it on, ensuring the suction sleeve is well fitted and secure. I pull on a pair of sweats and a black t-shirt, then my socks. Then move slowly and carefully to the bed.
With my hand over Grace’s mouth, her eyes open in panic. “Ssshhhh, not a word,” I whisper directly into her ear. She nods quickly and I move away, motioning her to stay low.
On the floor, she slips on her pants and I help her with her shirt while I pull a rifle and pistol from under the bed. Her eyes grow large, but she simply moves faster, pulling on socks and shoes, tucking the laces in the sides, unable to tie them one handed.
Ggggrrrrrrr.
Offering a low whistle, Grace tries to get the dog’s attention. The little thing looks back, but then out again.
“Closet, Grace,” I tell her. “Now.”
“Fate, come here, girl,” she whispers, reaching out her hand. The dog growls louder, more insistent.
“Closet. Now.”
“Fate!” This whisper is louder, sharper and, thank God, the dog turns and runs in our direction. I knew Grace wouldn’t leave her. Just as I wouldn’t leave Grace.
With the dog in her arm, we scuttle to the closet and I grab my ‘go’ bag on the way. Dammit. It’s not complete. I allowed myself a distraction. I curse myself for my lack of willpower.
Ggggrrrrrrrr.
I listen closely and hear it. A sharp object against glass.
Grace hears it too and her breathing grows heavier as she softly asks, “What do you need me to do?”
I put my finger to her lips and reach for a panel in the floor. Her eyes open wide as a large section opens. I point and she doesn’t hesitate, just crawls through the opening and down the steps. I go in behind her and lower the panel back in place.
Just inside, I’ve stored several flashlights. I turn one on, blinking away the brightness and reach up to slide the large bolts of the panel into place. I hand a second flashlight to Grace and she flicks it on. I point and she turns to the hallway of sorts I’d built.
Holding onto her upper arm, I move us around the corner. I stop and look, just in case.
Shit.
No.
The concrete is gone. It’s been dug up. And in the dirt are circles, drawn with a finger. Dozens of them littering the path.
A small hand slips into mine and I look down. It’s a boy. He raises a finger to his lips. He pulls me behind him, avoiding the circles. I reach for Grace, but she’s gone.
“Grace!”
“Ssshhh, mister. I take you,” the boy says.
“Grace!”
“Quiet or they hear.”
“Who are they?”
The boy, Sami, shrugs and continues to lead me down the path. We come to a room and he turns to me. “I go no further. I cannot.” His brown eyes grow so sad and the scar over his brow seems to grow. Then he backs up, one step and then another. I try to hold onto his hand, but he’s gone.
Turning back to the door, I reach for the handle. One turn and it swings silently inward.
The light is on and I see her. She’s tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth, her beautiful eyes covered in a blindfold.
Next to her is Darren, my best friend.
Next to him is Sami, the boy.
Then there is Anna.
Then Hulk.
Then Mike.
Wyman’s here, tied, blindfolded and gagged as well.
Another door opens. I turn and a man walks inside. He’s wearing a black mask over his face.
“Welcome Sergeant Duffy, I’ve been waiting for you. And I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“What do you want?”
The man throws his head back and laughs. “You already know the answer to that.”
“No. I don’t.”
He grows very still and he turns to me. “Give me the answer and I’ll let them live.”
“What’s the question?”
The man clucks his tongue. Click. Click. Click. “Don’t play this game with me.”
I raise my arms and yell, “What game?”
He lifts a gun and shoots, the blast loud and echoing in the room. Wyman slumps in his chair.
“What game?” I scream again.
Bang. Mike slumps.
I raise my hands, racking my mind. “Stop. I don�
�t know what you want.”
Bang. Hulk is gone.
The man lowers the gun. “Do you really plan to fail them again?” He lifts the gun, pointing it at Anna. “Give me the answer!” he yells, his voice nearly a roar.
Frantic now, I search my brain. Answer. I don’t know the answer. I don’t even know the question.
Bang. Anna’s head falls to her chest.
“Stop it! Stop!” I shout as he turns the gun to Sami. “Let’s talk. I’ll tell you anything—”
Bang.
The gun turns to Darren. “Tell me!” he snarls.
“Stop!”
Bang.
The gun turns to Grace. “Tell me!”
“No!!!!”
I wake in my bed, the sound of the gun firing in my head. I can’t breathe. My heart is beating too hard. It’s competing for space with my lungs.
Where am I?
Where is she? I look beside me. She’s gone.
Where is she?
Then I see her.
She’s standing at the end of the bed. Watching. Tears streaming down her face.
“Did I—?”
Did I hurt you? The question’s stuck in my throat.
She walks to the side of the bed, to my side of the bed. So beautiful, her hair falling over her bare shoulders.
The bed shifts with her weight and then she’s straddling me, her hand around my erection, pulling it up from my stomach. She raises, repositions, and then she’s sinking onto me. Sinking so slowly. Her heat embracing me until we’re fully connected.
“I love you,” she says and leans forward, her breasts on my chest, her lips on mine. I lift my hips and she moans into my mouth. “I’m here. We’re safe.” She smiles against my jaw as she kisses her way to my neck. “I’m safe and I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promises.
She kisses me again and begins to move and I’m surrounded by her comfort. My hands lift into her hair and I deepen the kiss. And just like that. With a touch. She makes me forget everything else.
Chapter 2 – Grace
Turning the bacon, I hush the sound of the oven timer as it beeps at me. I move to it and lower the door, checking on the egg muffins I’d been able to whip up, thinking they’d be easy to grab and eat for us both.
It’s only six in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep after I’d blanketed myself onto Link. After I’d done all I knew to do to comfort him. To make him forget. I’d made love to him, even as his cries of anguish continued to ring through my head.
Badass - The Complete Series: A Billionaire Military Romance Page 30