Discover Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

“Hell, darlin’, they broke the mold with me!” Trudi cackled, slapping Marc on the back, before casting her gaze over to Luke.

  Throwing his hands up in defense, Luke proclaimed, “Just gotta find the right one.”

  Leaning down, she said, “Well, you need to get out more. You stay stuck behind your computers all day and probably all night!”

  The group laughed knowing she was right. Luke watched her walk away after she delivered the food and his heart squeezed once more. I’m not like the others…I’ve got no idea what to talk about with women…and they sure as hell have no idea what to say to me. For a second, his parents flashed through his mind. As unlikely as they were to find mates, their shared love of ancient texts brought them together and kept them connected over the years. So where does a computer nerd like me find someone? Another computer nerd that’s just as antisocial as I am? Yeah, right!

  As his eyes moved from Trudi heading back to the kitchen, he noticed a woman at the bar staring at him, a small smile curving her lips. He quickly glanced around at his fellow Saints, obviously all with women, except for Marc, but as he turned his gaze back to the woman, she was definitely not staring at Marc.

  Cocking his head to the side, he blatantly observed her, his mind categorizing her traits the way he always analyzed things. Long, black hair, hanging in a sheet down her back. Dark, almost black eyes. Jeans encasing her crossed legs, and a light blue sweater falling off one shoulder. Definitely nice. And definitely not the type that usually looks my way.

  Seeing their pitchers of beer almost empty, he excused himself as he headed to the bar to save Trudi a trip. Okay…to be honest, I’d like to check out the interesting and interested lady at the same time.

  Sure enough, as he approached, setting the empty pitcher on Chuck’s worn bar, the woman swiveled toward him, her smile now a little shaky. Nervous…she looks nervous. Dark bangs hung down almost to her eyelashes, making it difficult to ascertain what her eyes looked like, but her flawless complexion and soft smile was easy to appreciate.

  Before he was able to speak, a man wearing an expensive suit leaned a long arm across the woman, placing his glass on the bar while simultaneously leering down at her breasts. Noting her wide-eyed expression of surprise, Luke stood up straight, walked over to her and threw his arm around her, saying, “Hey sweetie. Sorry, I’m late.”

  The man looked up hastily, grumbled, then snatched his glass back and moved down the bar.

  Before Luke was able to step back, the woman smiled up at him.

  “Thank you…I…well…thank you.”

  Distracted as she bit her bottom lip, he moved his arm from her shoulders and stepped back slightly. “Well, it seemed his attention wasn’t what you wanted, so I thought perhaps—”

  “Oh, yes,” she rushed, a blush rising from her neck upward as she glanced around.

  “I’m Luke. Luke Costas.” He paused, but she simply smiled back, staring at his face, offering no name in return. “And you are?”

  Startling, she jumped. “Oh, I’m uh—”

  “Here’s your beer,” Chuck called out, drawing Luke’s attention back to the bar. Nodding, he moved to pick it up before turning back to the woman. Seeing her slip from her barstool, he asked, “Would you…uh…like to join my friends?”

  Her eyes jerked over to the loud, boisterous Saints before reluctantly shaking her head. “No, thank you. I’m not…well, that is…uh, I actually need to be leaving.”

  “Early night?”

  Her blush darkened as she nodded. “Yeah, something like that—”

  A shout of cursing came from the pool tables as one drunken man slugged another. Before anyone could intervene a melee broke out amongst several of the patrons in the back of the bar. Luke’s gaze darted to the table of Saints as they all jumped up to create a barrier between the brawl and their women.

  Luke instinctively moved toward the Saints since their table was close to the back pool area. As the three largest, Bart, Cam, and Blaise, hustled to break up the fight, Luke placed himself in front of their wives. With his arms out wide, he began to herd them toward the safety of the bar.

  At the same time, his gaze searched toward the bar only to witness the dark-haired beauty once more being accosted by the man in the suit. Fuck! Chuck, no longer guarding the bar, had leaped over with a baseball bat to subdue the miscreants in the back. Luke attempted to hurry Miriam and Faith forward while maneuvering toward the woman at the bar.

  A flash of movement caught his eye as she grabbed the suited man by the hand and, with a whirl, pinned him against the bar with his arm held painfully behind him. Luke, as stunned as the man must have been, watched as she continued to push the larger man to the floor using his weight against him. With a quick glance around, she disappeared through the crowd, her wide-eyed expression full of fear.

  Luke watched as she slipped through the front door. Rubbing his chin, he realized he did not even get her name. The fight, now broken up, had Chuck clearing out the rabble with Trudi shouting curses and threats of bodily harm if they ever came back.

  The Saints resumed their seats as Luke made his way back to the bar for the pitchers of beer. The suited man, now climbing up from the floor, glanced nervously around. Guess getting your ass handed to you by a much smaller woman must be a real ball buster. Grinning at the memory, he had to admit it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

  Walking back, he set the pitchers down in the center of the table, taking his seat in between Marc and Faith, Bart’s wife.

  Marc chuckled, causing Luke to turn his way, his eyebrow lifted in question.

  “You strike out with that beauty at the bar when the fight started?”

  Ducking his head, Luke replied, “Yeah, I guess I did. Didn’t even get her name before all hell broke loose.”

  Clapping Luke on the shoulder, Marc said, “No worries, man. Her loss.”

  Appreciating the gesture, Luke nodded. Easy for you to say. You’re the big, outdoorsy type the women ogle every time we go out.

  Feeling a close presence at his side, he turned and looked down at Faith. Bart’s beautiful wife was peering up at him, the intensity in her gaze overpowering.

  “I feel…I’m not sure, Luke,” she said, haltingly.

  He watched her carefully, noting her struggle. Faith, while not a professed seer, had a special gift and occasionally her visions and intuition assisted the Saints.

  “I saw her when you were over at the bar talking to her. I felt a danger with that woman. Uncertainty. Even fear.”

  Luke’s gaze involuntarily jumped to the door where the woman had disappeared. Opening his mouth to speak, he hesitated, not knowing what to say. His eyes found hers again, hoping she had more to give him.

  He leaned over as she lifted her head to whisper, “I sense…you will meet her again. She will need you.” Cocking her head to the side, she added, “And you will need her.”

  Before Luke had a chance to ask Faith more, she leaned into Bart who pulled his wife in closely. The group of Saints and their women continued their party, laughs and tales abounding.

  As the gathering disbanded, Luke said his goodbyes and walked with the others to the parking lot. His gaze moved around the large space, wondering if he would see the woman. She left an hour ago. What the hell do I think she’s doing? Hanging out here just to tell me her name? With a mental shake, he gave the others a wave as he drove home. Alone. As usual.

  *

  Charlie slipped into the old, tiny camper van after securing her Vespa onto the back. Keeping all lights off until she secured the door and made sure the few windows were closed tightly was her first order of business. Then, and only then, did she turn on the camper light sitting on the tiny table. Taking a thorough look around, she checked to make sure there had not been any intruders while she was gone. The few tricks she learned about the placement of items in the camper had been put to use and she was sure no one entered while she was gone.

  Stepping into the minuscule bathroom
that consisted of a toilet, sink, and a shower overhead, she looked into the mirror. Her black hair shone under the faint light as her dark eyes took in her appearance. With a sigh, she looked skyward as her fingers nimbly took out her contacts. Placing them in the contact case, filled with solution, she carefully shut the lid before replacing it in her makeup bag.

  Sliding her hand upward over her forehead and under her bangs, she removed the wig. Holding it reverently, she gave the hairpiece a little shake. Stepping out of the bathroom, she placed the wig in a drawer, next to several others. Running her long fingers through her natural hair, she massaged her scalp. Oh, that feels good.

  Next, she stepped out of her high-heeled boots, wiggling her toes in relief. How do women wear these killer heels? Sneakers had always been her footwear of choice…well, the fact that I never learned how to walk with heels on probably had something to do with that! Slipping off her jeans, she jerked her sweater over her head. Pulling on jersey pajama bottoms and a soft camisole, she washed off the unfamiliar makeup. Looking into the mirror again, she smiled. Yeah…that looks like me. Whoever I am now.

  Turning around, she lit the small camper stove and heated the kettle full of water. In a few minutes, she placed a hot cup of steeping tea in the sink since there was no room on the twelve inches of counter. Hearing a noise outside, she held her breath until the car passed by. Releasing the deep breath in a sigh, she sat on the bench seat, opening her laptop.

  Quickly checking emails, she ascertained there was nothing of importance. No news is good news. She worked for an hour for her latest client, creating a few fake profiles on social media and loading them with pictures and events.

  Closing that file, her fingers hesitated over the keys, fighting the urge to see if he was on. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she relished the sight of him. Her mind slid back to the first time she had ever seen Luke Costas.

  Freshman year at MIT and I rushed toward the Engineering building, hoping I was not going to be late for the meeting. All year long, my favorite professor spoke of the previous president of Tau Beta Pi, the Engineering society…Luke Costas…and even though he had graduated, he was coming back for the society’s final meeting of the year. I’d seen his picture on the wall, along with all the former presidents, and every time I passed it, I had to force myself to not stop and stare. He was beautiful. Dark hair. Firm jaw. Dark brown eyes. Distinguished and oh, so handsome.

  Glancing at my phone to check the time, I tripped, stumbling over my feet. I threw my hands out to keep from smashing my face on the concrete when my body suddenly stopped moving. Suspended over the step, I felt strong hands around my waist. Twisting around to see who my savior was, my mouth hung open in surprise. Luke Costas was bent over, holding me up, keeping me from disaster. Eyes wide, I just stared. He straightened, settling my feet back onto the sidewalk.

  “You okay?” he asked, his warm eyes twinkling.

  Unable to speak, I nodded, sure that my face must be as red as it felt.

  Chuckling, he patted my shoulder. “Watch your step next time,” he advised as he headed into the building. I have no idea how long I stood rooted to the ground before my feet caught up to my brain and I rushed to the meeting. Slipping into the back of the room, I watched as he delivered the end of year speech. I heard a slight catch in his voice and wondered if he were nervous.

  At the end of the meeting, he stayed down front to greet some of the students, but I headed back to my dorm, daydreams full of the handsome grad. Once inside my room, I passed by the mirror and stopped short, taking stock of myself. Messy hair. Baggy jeans and sweatshirt. Sighing, I knew there was no way a girl like me could ever be with someone like him.

  Pushing old memories from her mind, she sipped her tea, thinking about her newer memories of seeing him that night. I did it…I finally got up the nerve to try to see him. And not only see him in person but to actually speak to him!

  Her skills of observation and simple research came in handy. She had never worn clothing for any other purpose than to be comfortable—and certainly not to gain attention. Her hair was usually pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face. Watching makeup videos gave her the skills to apply just enough to play up her features. And it worked! He noticed me! Her shoulders slumped as the next thought slammed into her. Then I chickened out and practically ran to the door after kicking the jackass who was bothering me. Acting on instinct when she felt threatened, she now realized how that must have looked. That must have left a horrible impression! Just the sight of Luke in person had overwhelmed her.

  Tall, muscular…not as bulky as some of the men at his table, but his lean muscles spoke of strength. His dark hair was neatly trimmed and a shadow of a dark beard covered his jawline. Shaking her head, she remembered how his brown, soulful eyes had stared right at her and, unlike the leers from the other man at the bar, his eyes had seemed…kind. Understanding. Giving a rude snort, she thought Yeah, right. He’s got no clue. Leaning her head back for a moment, she sighed heavily once more. If only—

  Just then her computer alert sounded, letting her know he was on, and her gaze jumped back to her monitor as a smile curved her lips.

  Chapter 3

  Sleep did not come. Tossing and turning did not help. Nor had the tried and true sleep inducer of running software codes in his mind. Finally, throwing back the covers, Luke swung his long legs out of bed and padded toward the kitchen. His house was small, one level, in an older neighborhood. Eschewing the large lots of wooded land that several of his friends had bought, he preferred the simplicity of the older house.

  His neighborhood was filled with mostly retired couples, plus a few younger ones with small children. He fell in love with the location of his house at the end of the cul-de-sac. He enjoyed privacy, a large yard, and the three-bedroom house fit his lifestyle perfectly. One of the bedrooms was set up as an office. Well, the office of a computer engineer. It was filled with computer equipment, security equipment, and books. He spent most of his waking hours either at the Saints compound at his desk or in his study at home.

  Looking at the clock on the microwave, he knew if he had any chance of getting to sleep he had to avoid making a cup of coffee. Sighing, he filled a glass with milk and set it in the microwave to heat. Glancing at his neglected, complicated coffee maker, banished to the corner of the counter, he longed for his younger days when he could work on little sleep and high-octane caffeine. Damn ulcer. Well, the doc said my pain was the beginnings of an ulcer. Rubbing his forehead, he pulled the heated milk out and moved to the living room to settle on the sofa with his laptop.

  Jack had asked for some specific intelligence to be gathered for the meeting tomorrow—well, now later today—and Luke had already completed the task. Deciding to look it over, he fired up his secure system.

  Glad to be out of the CIA’s political quagmire, he relished the freedom he had with the Saints. And their friendship…even if a few of their women continued to hint that he and Marc needed to settle down.

  Thinking of Marc, he chuckled out loud. Mr. Outdoorsman probably has some woman off in a tent somewhere. Slightly in awe of his friend, the comparison of Marc with his childhood neighbor, Chris, struck him. Smart, tenacious, and loved to work with their hands.

  Without his contacts in, he grabbed his glasses off the end table to stare at his computer. A ping indicated an incoming message. Looking down, he smiled.

  You’re up late.

  His mystery cyber-friend. He knew the moniker sounded dumb, but he had no other way to describe them. Old, young, male, female—he had no idea. Months prior, investigating a complicated case, he had been contacted by someone with the ability to see what he was working on and had offered assistance. At first, furious that someone was hacking into what he considered to be an “unhackable” account, he realized the help they offered truly assisted them in solving the case. Since that time, they offered information on several occasions.

  Never identifying themselves for security reaso
ns, nonetheless, Luke considered them a friend…albeit an anonymous, I’ll-probably-never-meet-them-in-real-life kind of friend! And he knew they were talented, if for no other reason than the untraceable account they messaged from.

  Can’t sleep. You? he typed.

  After a pause, the reply came back. I never sleep much. Too many things go through my mind.

  Same here, he answered.

  Luke had no idea what the mystery friend worked on, but hoped it was legal. Mafia, drug cartels, and terrorists all recruited heavily from the computer geniuses graduating, targeting the ones with few friends, few social contacts, and who worked from home. These young computer analysts or engineers were often easy pickings for the unscrupulous underworld. How is it possible that in only a couple of months of nothing but emails and messages, this person has become important to me? After a long pause in which Luke began to think they were not going to send any more messages, another one came in.

  I might need you soon.

  Staring at the screen, his heart thumped audibly. His fingers hovered over the keys, unable to think of how to respond. In all the times his mystery friend contacted him, they never indicated needing anything.

  Decision made, his fingers flew over the keyboard. Anytime. Anything.

  Danger is all around. The ones I trusted may not be real. You may be the only real one I know.

  Luke, drawn in, did not hesitate to respond. You can trust me. I’m real.

  A long pause on the other end caused him to hold his breath. Come on…answer.

  I know you are. I’ll let you know if I need you.

  Again—anytime, anything.

  Thank you. Really…thank you.

  With that, Luke knew the conversation was over. He did not bother to attempt to find where the location was of the mystery friend. It’s not necessary…they’ll let me know if they want me. Finishing his milk, Luke rinsed the glass, putting it in the dishwasher. Wondering if sleep was any closer, he flipped off the light and headed back to the bedroom.