Shamus (Welcome to Spartan Book 3)

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Shamus (Welcome to Spartan Book 3) Page 11

by Ashley Lyn


  “It’s lovely to meet you,” she tells him with a bright smile. Bruce continues to stare, dumbstruck.

  She turns her attention back to the kids and helps them get the tops open. Chloe squeals so loud, I think my ears are bleeding.

  “Daddy, there’s stuff in here.” She pulls out a crown, which Mom puts on her head. Next, she pulls out a feather boa, pink rain boots, and swimming goggles, all of which she puts on. The last thing she pulls out is a set of fairy wings.

  We all laugh when Chloe stands up and starts shaking her butt.

  Aiden is staring in complete awe at the contents of his box. He pulls out a gray plastic knight helmet. Putting it on, he then pulls out a small plastic sword and shield. There are also swim goggles, and a set of walkie talkies. Bruce takes them out of the package and shows Aiden how to use them.

  Chloe jumps into Bruce’s arms and hugs him until it looks like his head is going to pop off, then both the kids are off like a shot.

  Bruce sniffles and looks at me with silent tears streaming down his cheeks. “They’ve never had presents before,” I say.

  Bruce’s gets off the floor and sits on the couch. “That is definitely going to change. Also, we got the party all planned. It’ll be at Willa’s on Saturday, at one.”

  “I love a good party. Good thing I brought my party clothes. Does anyone need any help planning? I would love to help, and it would give me a chance to meet everyone.”

  The thought of my mom hanging out with Bruce, Margo, and Cleo makes me smile.

  Bruce and Mom are talking about the party, and I think about Savannah. I wonder what she’s doing, wishing yet again that she was here.

  I look at Aiden, who’s still shoving handfuls of dry cereal into his mouth. The kid is going to eat me out of house and home. I get both kids settled at the breakfast bar and get breakfast going.

  I glance over at Bruce, who’s wagging his bushy eyebrows, giving me a shit-eating grin.

  “Why didn’t you bring Savannah home with you?” he asks, and my heart gives a little squeeze.

  “She couldn’t come. She needs to get packed up and get her house on the market. She’s moving here, and she also has some work stuff to take care of. I want her here with me, because she’s it for me, man. Since she left, she hasn’t been calling as much, or answering my texts. She tends to pull back for some unknown reason. She doesn’t talk to me or tell me what’s going on in her head. I love her, and I just wish she would realize that.”

  Bruce scoots over. When I look at him, he looks quite sad. “Did you tell her that? Like, in detail? Women need to hear what we’re feeling. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from twenty years of marriage is that communication, putting words to your feelings, is what they need. You can show them in any number of ways that you love them, but it’s the words that count.”

  He pats my leg and gets up to say goodbye. Blowing out a breath, I look at the kids. I know what my heart tells me, and I know what my head is telling me. I realize I never told her that, and I want to bang my head against the nearest hard surface.

  I’m an idiot.

  The kids are in the back yard, playing on the swing set, and I smile at the true happiness on their faces.

  “I have to swing by Margo and Cleo’s. Margo wanted to talk about some renovations to their house.”

  Mom narrows her eyes at me. “You want us to go with you? Everything okay, baby boy? You seem off and sad today.”

  “I’m fine, I promise. Just a bit tired is all.” The look on her face says I’m not fooling anyone.

  I walk outside. “Hey, guys, I have to talk to a friend of mine who needs help working on her house. You okay staying here with Grandma and playing outside till I get back?”

  “Yes,” they both say, laughing.

  I head inside to see Mom cleaning the kitchen. “When will Dad get here?”

  “Probably in the next couple days. Wish he could have come here with us, but the real-estate agent said we needed to declutter the house.” She cracks up laughing.

  My lips twitch. “I bet he’s loving that.”

  “He hired a professional organizer to help him.” My dad is a hoarder. He’ll never admit it, and Mom is always throwing things out when he goes golfing. Most of the time, he never notices. I give my mom a kiss and head out.

  My eyes feel like grit. I’ve been sitting at the office all day, still with a mild hangover, and going through file after file. Nothing is jumping out at me, and I’m beyond frustrated.

  The only thing making this day bearable is the text messages from Shamus.

  Shamus: Answer the phone, baby.

  Me: I’m busy.

  Shamus: Bruce gave the kids a “Welcome to Spartan” starter pack. You want to see?

  Me: Sure.

  Shamus: Just come down to Spartan.

  Me: SMH.

  Ten minutes later…

  Shamus: I miss the feel of your arms around me, and the sound of your laughter. I really miss the feel of your pussy.

  Me: I’m working, Shamus!

  Shamus: ;-) Call me after work.

  “You know, I think if you smile any wider, your cheeks just might crack.”

  One of the panty droppers who rarely comes into the office, Cash Lacroix, ex-military, ex-bull rider, and current sex on a stick, mutters from across the hall. I flip him off.

  “And don’t flip me off, Savannah!”

  I flip him off again, because I do what I want.

  I turn my phone on silent and get back to the files, when a set of numbers catch my eye. I flip open the file I had just closed and look at the address. Same house. I tap my chin and start flipping through the stacks. I make one pile of files that mention the address, and one stack that doesn’t.

  My spidey sense is tingling. “Savannah, we’re going to go out and get some dinner. You want anything?”

  “No, I had a big lunch. I’m going to keep working for a little bit because my spidey sense is tingling, and I need to follow this thread.”

  “Don’t do anything on your own. Just make your notes, and we’ll go over it in the morning.”

  I roll my eyes. “Have a good dinner, and stay out of trouble.”

  By the time I get done, I’ve connected twenty cases that either started or ended at the house. I looked it up on Google, and the house looked abandoned. It might be a coincidence, but something tells me it’s not.

  Seriously, what could it hurt to do a drive by and just check? Grabbing my bag, I head out. Locking up the office, I hop into my mini.

  I can hear my phone vibrating in my purse, so I pull it out and answer as I pull out of the parking lot.

  “Hello?”

  “Thank God, Savannah. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

  I wince. My phone has been in my purse all day.

  “Hey, little brother.”

  “What the heck are you doing to poor Shamus? That guy looks depressed.”

  “He misses me and my shining personality.” Luke, the ass, laughs.

  “I turned my phone on silent because I was busy at work. What’s up, baby brother?”

  He sighs loud and long. Always so dramatic, the baby of the family.

  “Ali’s birthday is in two weeks, and I’m planning a surprise party. Margo and Cleo are handling the party planning, but I was calling to invite you. You think you can make it?”

  “I’ll have to talk to Tristan. We’re working on a bunch of cases right now, and I’ve taken a ton of time off already.”

  “All right. Well, let me know. I love you, Savvy.”

  “Love you, too, Luke.”

  Hanging up with my brother, I listen to the GPS, and within a couple turns, I’m pulling down Beaker Street. I find the house I’m looking for and I was right; it looks abandoned. The whole block does now that I really look around.

  I slow way down as I pass, and as I do, I see a shady fucker walking around the corner of the house, lighting a cigarette. We make eye contact. I turn forward and d
rive a tad too fast for a residential area, because the guy gave me the creeps. This, I will come to find out within the next few days, was the beginning of a shit storm.

  I walk into work dragging ass because I didn’t sleep for shit. I was freaked out by my late-night encounter and decided to stay at my parents’ house. I had nightmares all night about that creepy fucker from last night.

  Shamus calls just as I pull into work and I let it go to voicemail. I’ll call him back after I get in since I’m running ten minutes late.

  When I get into the office, I find every single one of the panty droppers are here. Cash, Carter, Tristan, Walker, and Jackson are all glaring at me.

  “What did you do, Savannah?” Tristan growls at me.

  I cock my head to the side. “I have no idea what you’re taking about.” Inside, I think I do, but like hell if I’m saying anything.

  “You remember that fancy security system we installed at your place?”

  “Yes,” I say. My palms are sweating, and I start fidgeting.

  “Our cameras picked something up last night, but funny the alarm didn’t go off when some fucker broke in.”

  “Someone broke in?” I screech. “And you didn’t think to call me?”

  “Did you not see all your missed calls this morning?”

  “I stayed at my parents’ house last night and was in a hurry this morning. Figured you would let me know what was going on when I got in. What did they take?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “They didn’t take anything because you weren’t there.” I swallow hard. Good thing I stayed at my parents’ house then.

  “I have friends at the Denver Police Department, lots of them. Some are detectives, some are even IA. It was my IA buddy that called me this morning to tell me that the detective he’s currently investigating for associating with the fucking Skin Slingers pulled your information. He ran a search on your license plate and pulled every scrap of information on you he could find last night. Please, explain.”

  “I may have driven by a house last night that kept coming up in those files you asked me to look over.”

  Every single one of them starts swearing at me.

  “Carter, take her home and have her pack a bag. She’s going to New York to stay with Dick.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you are. The cop is low-level and works with low-level idiots, but they’re still fucking dangerous. You’re going out of town until we can haul these fuckers in before they can squeal to the big boss. Because that raid? The one where we got the kids? They didn’t get the big boss. He gets his hands on you and no one will ever see you again. So, you’re going to shut your mouth and get on a fucking plane and get your ass to New York. You’re going to stay there until I clean this fucking mess up.”

  “But Ali’s birthday is coming up in a couple weeks, and the kids’ welcome home party is this weekend.”

  “Too fucking bad.”

  I stomp my foot. “Can I at least stop in Spartan and tell them what’s going on? And drop off Ali’s present?”

  “Fucking hell, Savannah. You’re not making this easy. You need to turn off your phone and tell no one what’s going on. Just tell them you’re on a business trip, but not where you’re going. Do you understand? I’m serious, Savannah.”

  “Fine.” I’m fucking embarrassed and slinging sass to cover the fact that I’m scared as hell.

  Carter grabs my arm and escorts me outside. Once I get in the back seat of his car, I let the tears fall. I’m so fucking pissed at myself. Shamus just got out of the Skin Slingers’ mess, and I just dropped myself right onto their radar.

  The kids and I have settled into a good schedule, and I started work on Margo and Cleo’s house. My mom comes over to the house in the morning to watch the kids, and my dad has hooked up with the Bruce, Paul, and Walt crew.

  The flooring samples came in for Margo and Cleo’s house, so I’m going to swing by and see what they think. When I pull up, I see Dane’s car and smile.

  I get up the wrap-around porch and all I see are butt cheeks, smashed against the window. I follow the line of the person’s back and see Margo’s head, and it all clicks.

  I smile, thinking about Margo and Dane sneaking around. Turning around, I head back and get in my truck and drive to Bailey’s.

  My phone dings and I leave it on the console until I pull into Bailey’s, hoping it’s Savannah texting me back. We‘ve been regular with the calls and texts, but she hasn’t said a word today. When I called, her phone was shut off, and that has me worried.

  Driving down Main Street, I pull over and stop the car at the sight in front of me. Bruce, Paul, and Walt are speed walking down the street. If you’ve never seen someone speed walking, look it up. Their old man arm skin is flapping back and forth as they pump their arms. All three of them are in the smallest, tightest, spandex shorts, the kind that volleyball girls wear. They’re walking as fast as their legs can carry them, hips swinging like mad.

  I roll my window down and hear Bruce. “Come on, ladies, speed it up! You look like a bunch of old woman playing squat tag in a rhubarb patch.”

  Bruce turns around when he hears me laugh, and starts to speed walk back to my car. My eyes pop wide when I see that one of Bruce’s nuts has escaped his spandex shorts, and the other one is trying to slide out the other side.

  “Bruce, man, your balls are hanging out.”

  “Well, shit. The rascals are massive exhibitionists.” He laughs. “Get it? Massive, because I got some impressive balls?”

  I thunk my head on the steering wheel. “Bruce, we got young children in town now so you might think about reining them in a bit.”

  “Right.” He turns around and adjusts himself and off he goes, hips swinging, arms flapping, and I can’t help but laugh. I pull back onto Main and park in front of Bailey’s.

  Walking in, I’m stunned stupid at what I find.

  Fucking Savannah is cruising a bar stool. No call from her, and she doesn’t stop by.

  “What the fuck, Savannah?”

  She makes a very unladylike grunt and falls off the bar stool. Her skirt flips up, showing off a pair of super sexy thongs that immediately makes my blood boil, and my dick tries to punch through my jeans.

  Walking over, I grab her arm and pull her up, then bend down and throw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  She’s beating my back and screeching like hell.

  I smack her ass and make my way to the restroom. Kicking the door closed with my foot, I lock the door and set her down.

  Taking both of her hands in mine, I pin them over her head. Leaning down, I kiss her like a starving man.

  She moans, and the sound goes straight to my dick.

  “You don’t call, you don’t write. Hell, you don’t even stop by and see the kids that ask about you every day. So how about this, babe. When you’re done playing games, you call me and we can talk about it.”

  Letting her legs drop, I give her a minute to catch her breath.

  I kiss her and walk out, stopping at the bar long enough to drop off the floor samples to Cleo. Once I’m in my truck, I’m fucking gone.

  I have no room in my life for games. I love Savannah, I do, but I don’t want to wait around for her to pull her head out of her ass.

  What the fuck just happened?

  How does this even happen? I was just supposed to stop in and give Ali her birthday present, then head back to the airport to make my flight to New York. I made the decision to not tell Shamus what was going on, and that just backfired in my face. Tristan gave me a burner phone for emergencies. I think about calling him and telling him what’s going on, and scratch that when I think about Tristan. Then I think about calling and telling him it’s a business thing I can’t talk about. I’ll give him some time to cool down, then I’ll call him.

  I told my parents I had to go out of town for work, and that I wouldn’t be reachable by pho
ne. They both gave me worried looks, but whatever keeps them safe. I told Cleo I had to go out of town for work, and that I wasn’t sure how long I would be gone, and that I lost my phone. Maybe she’ll solve my dilemma and tell Shamus.

  He thinks I came down and didn’t tell him. Well, I did come down, and I didn’t tell him. I don’t want him to know what’s going on, and Tristan told me to keep my mouth shut. I curse when I look at my watch. I only have ten minutes left before I need to leave.

  Opening the door, Cleo’s standing there, hands on her hips, pissed as hell. I put my hand up to ward off the inevitable questions.

  “I have a plane to catch, and I have no time to deal with it. I plan to swing back by on my way home. I’ll explain everything, but I’ve already spent more time here than I should have.

  I make my way out front, super fucking pissed at myself. I can tell I hurt him, but now, with all this shit with the Skin Slingers swirling around my head, there’s no way in hell I’m dragging him back into their purview.

  I’ve made such a fucking mess of things. The drive to the airport is long and exhausting, because I can’t get out of my fucking head.

  It’s party day, and the kids are dressed to the nines in their gear that Bruce got them and are bouncing in their seats. I’m on fucking edge. It’s been days since I talked to Savannah. Cleo told me she lost her phone and was out of town on business. What the fuck ever. That’s so much bullshit. Least she could do is call me from wherever she’s at and fucking talk to me. Next time I get my hands on that girl, I’m putting a ring on it and tying her to my fucking bed for weeks.

  “Are we there yet?” Aiden whines from the back seat.

  I sigh. It takes five minutes to get to Willa’s, and Aiden has asked me no less than ten times if we’re there yet in the last minute.

  “No, but we will be in about a second. Just hold your horses.”

  “But I don’t have any horses.”

  When we pull up to Willa’s, they both start squealing and yelling, and I just laugh. The Slip ’N Slide is up. There are balloons everywhere, and a huge banner that says, “Welcome to Spartan, Aiden and Chloe.”

 

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