by Anna Blakely
Targeted Risk
R.I.S.C. Series Book 7
Anna Blakely
Targeted Risk
R.I.S.C. Series 7
First Edition
Copyright © 2020 Anna Blakely
All rights reserved.
All cover art and logo Copyright © 2020
Publisher: Anna Blakely
Cover by Lori Jackson Design
Copy Editing by Tracy Roelle
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.00.
If you find any eBooks being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author at anna@annablakelycom.
Table of Contents
Dedication
About the Book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Savage Risk (R.I.S.C. Book 8) is Available for Pre-Order Now!
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Taking a Risk, Part One Blurb
Chapter 1 from Taking a Risk Part One by Anna Blakely:
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Dedication
This book is for those of you who’ve been here from the beginning. I’m not sure how you first found me, but I’ll be forever grateful that you did. Not only did you take a chance on me when I was a newbie, you’re still here. Still coming back for more. For that, my heart and my characters thank you!
Another person I need to give a HUGE shoutout to is my editor, Tracy Roelle. I’m beginning to think she just might be as crazy as me, because no matter what life decides to throw at me while trying to finish a story, and no matter what’s going on with her life, she always manages to make time for me. Big hugs, Tracy! Love you bunches!
Last, but not least, I’m also dedicating this book to the real Lydia, whose soft fur and quirky personality make me smile on a daily basis. Yes, this soft, furry feline is real, and she’s even more of a spaz than I was able to describe in the book. But we love her!
XOXO ~
Anna
About the Book
HE'LL TRUDGE THROUGH THE DEPTHS OF HELL JUST TO KEEP HER SAFE.
Returning to the dangerous world of deep cover is the last thing Mike Bradshaw—former Delta Force operator and newest member of R.I.S.C.’s Alpha Team—wants to do. But just when he thinks he’s finished with covert life for good, Mike discovers the woman he left behind—the woman he still loves—is in danger. Determined to protect her, he must once again become the man Juliet believes him to be. A man who doesn’t really exist.
Trust doesn’t come easy for Juliet. Having a father in the Russian mob could do that to a girl. Then she meets Mike—the mysterious, tattooed man sent to protect her. Before long, lines are crossed and the love Juliet never thought existed is found...until the life she’d built for herself is suddenly ripped from her hands, and Mike disappears without a trace.
When Mike unexpectedly waltzes back into Juliet’s life, neither can deny the same magnetic pull that first drew them together. Soon, however, their newly formed trust is put to the ultimate test when secrets are revealed, and hearts are broken. Even worse, someone still wants Juliet dead.
Determined to save the woman he loves, Mike will stop at nothing to get the target off Juliet’s back. After all, he’s the one who put it there.
Prologue
Twenty-two months ago...
“We got him.”
“What?” Mike Bradshaw sat straight up. The three words his government handler had just spoken sent his heart racing.
“You heard me,” CIA Special Agent Benjamin Lopez answered. “It’s over, Bradshaw. You’re going home.”
Holy shit.
Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed—her bed—Mike glanced down the hallway toward the kitchen. Turning his voice to a hushed whisper, he asked Lopez, “Mikhail finally talked?”
“Something like that. Listen, are you with the sister?”
Mike looked toward the kitchen, again. He could hear Juliet moving around in there but didn’t see her. “Yeah. We’re at her place. But wait. The world thinks Mike Bradshaw died ten years ago.” An unfortunate necessity to do the job for which he’d been assigned. “How am I going to explain—”
“We’ll go over the details later. Just get out of there. Now.”
Alarm bells rang inside his head at the man’s curt tone. “Why? What’s going on?”
Before Lopez could answer, Juliet hollered from the other room. “Hey, Jay? Do you want bacon or sausage with your eggs?”
Jay Reynolds was his undercover name. One he’d grown to fucking hate.
Shit. “Uh...surprise me,” Mike answered with a casual tone. That tone changed when he spoke into the phone again, demanding his handler give him an answer. “Talk fast, Lopez. Why the sudden urgency for me to leave?”
“I’ll explain everything when you’re clear. For now, you need to listen to me and do what I say.”
Before Mike could argue further, he heard a knock coming from the front door. A man’s muffled voice immediately followed.
“Miss Volkov? This is the FBI. We need you to open the door.”
What the fuck?
A mass of dread grew into a fiery pit inside Mike’s stomach. “The Feds just showed up, Ben.” He hopped out of bed. Using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear, he quickly threw on the pair of boxers and jeans still crumpled on the wooden floor. “What the hell is going on?”
“Goddamn it,” Lopez cursed loudly. “I told them to stand down until I gave the order.”
“What order?” Mike started for the hallway at the same time Juliet exited the kitchen.
Wide-eyed, she looked to him for an answer he couldn’t give. “It’s the FBI. What should I do?”
“I gotta go.” Mike started to end the call but stopped when he heard Lopez holler at him to wait.
“Keep your cover, Bradshaw,” the other man commanded. “We can’t risk fucking this up because you’re thinking with your dick.”
“Fuck you.”
There was another knock. “I can hear you, Miss Volkov. Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
“Jay?” Juliet urged him to guide her next move.
The first thought that came to Mike’s mind...how much he longed to hear his real name fall off those ruby red lips. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
“It’s okay, Jules,” he assured her. “I’m sure they’re just following up from the last time they were here.”
Clearly not buying his explanation, she hugged herself and shook her
head. “It sounds like they’re here to do more than just talk.”
Swinging her gaze to the door then back to him, her long black hair fell over her shoulders and halfway down the snug white t-shirt she had on. Glancing at the phone in his hand, she asked, “Is that my Mikhail? Ask him if I should answer the door.”
No, baby. It’s not your brother.
“Just go with it, Mike,” Lopez instructed him through the phone. “Keep your cover while she’s within earshot. Stay calm and do as they say, and you’ll be headed back to Dallas by this time tomorrow. Who knows, you may even make it back in time for your sister’s wedding.”
Fuck.
“Jay?” Juliet looked to him again, her sapphire eyes filling with fear.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” Mike had no more uttered the lie when someone burst through the front door, its wooden frame splintering from the force.
Startled, Juliet screamed as a group of men stormed their way into her apartment. “What are you doing?” she asked. “This is my home. You can’t just barge in here like this.”
“We need you to come with us, Miss Volkov.” A man donning a navy-blue FBI jacket approached her. “We have a court order to take you in for questioning.”
Mike recognized him as FBI Special Agent Thomas Fuller. He’d been in on some of the meetings Mike had attended while on this assignment. The guy was a total dickhead with a major ego trip.
“Like hell you do.” Ending the call, Mike shoved his phone into his pocket, covering the distance between him and Juliet in three, long strides.
“Questioning?” She swung her gaze back to his and then to Fuller. “For what? And I go by Farrow, not Volkov. Farrow is my mother’s maiden name.”
“He knows that, Jules.” Resting his hand on her lower back, Mike glared at the man in front of them. “He’s just being an asshole.”
Ignoring him, the asshole in question directed his next comment to Juliet. “I’m Special Agent Fuller, Miss Farrow. We’ve been led to believe you hold pertinent information that will help with the case against your father.”
“My father?” Her laugh held no humor. “I haven’t spoken to Alex in years. I certainly don’t know anything about whatever it is you think you have against him this time.”
The arrogant agent shrugged. “Our intel says otherwise.”
“Yeah?” Mike stared the other man down. “And what intel would that be?”
Because it sure as shit wasn’t the intel he’d given them. His latest job had been to turn Juliet’s brother, Mikhail, against their father. If Mikhail agreed to testify against Alexandar Volkov, they’d finally be able to put the piece of shit behind bars for good.
Getting close to Juliet had been Mike’s backup plan. One that began to fall apart the second he’d first looked into those spellbinding blue eyes of hers.
According to what Lopez had just relayed over the phone, they already had Volkov. So why had these guys just busted Jules’ door in?
“That’s none of your concern, Mr. Br...uh...Reynolds.” He eyed Mike up and down. “Nice ink, by the way.”
Seriously? The asshole damn near gave away his cover and he was complimenting his tattoos? The entire, shady scenario caused the pit in Mike’s stomach to grow at an alarming rate.
Ignoring Lopez’s earlier demand that he play nice, Mike said, “I want to see the court order.”
“Sure.” Fuller handed him the folded papers. “We’ll head to the car while you’re reading that over.” Grabbing Juliet by her upper arm, he began pulling her toward the door.
Mike lost his shit, then, shoving the agent with both hands. At the same time, Juliet managed to pull herself free from the dickhead’s grasp.
Fuller turned his narrowed gaze on him. The prick snapped his fingers, sending two of his men into action. They went for Mike, then.
Taking a swing at the closest one, he laid Tweedle Dee out with one punch. Unfortunately, Tweedle Dum had anticipated the move. Taking advantage of Mike’s split focus, the guy cranked Mike’s hand behind his back, simultaneously kicking the back of his knee, sending him straight to the floor.
“No!” Juliet yelled. “Leave him alone! Jay has nothing to do with this!”
Ah, baby. I wish that were true.
He wished a lot of things were true.
With fire in her eyes, the brave woman actually jumped onto the agent’s back, trying to get Tweedle Dum off of Mike. At the same time, the other agent still standing nearby grabbed hold of Juliet’s shoulders.
Wrong move, asshole.
“Get your fucking hands off her!” Mike growled as he fought to get free. A useless endeavor given that Tweedle Dee had risen to his feet and joined in the effort to keep Mike subdued on the floor.
The two men shoved him the rest of the way down.
“Like Agent Fuller told your girl...” Tweedle Dum spoke calmly. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
“Fuck you.”
Using more force than necessary, the man still holding onto Juliet pulled her roughly toward the door.
“Jay!” she called out for him, the terror and confusion in her voice ripping his heart to shreds.
With one side of his face now smashed against the cool, hardwood floor, Mike lifted his eyes to meet hers. God, he hated the fear he found there.
“It’s okay, baby,” he told her again. “Just go with them. I’ll be okay.”
“No. I’m not leaving you!” She kept fighting against the man’s strong hold.
“Not your choice.” Fuller picked up the court order that had fallen to the floor during Mike’s struggle. To the man holding onto Juliet, he tipped his chin and said, “Get her out of here.”
“Wait! You can’t do this. Just...wait!” Juliet’s pleas went unanswered as she was dragged out of the doorway and away from Mike’s sight.
Knowing she couldn’t hear him—and no longer caring, even if she could—Mike shot Fuller a seething glare. “You son of a bitch. I’ll have your fucking badge for this.”
“You can try.” The man’s lips curled into an arrogant smirk. “But I’m just following orders, Bradshaw. Just like you were when you started playing house with our target’s daughter. Right?”
Turning to leave, Fuller stopped when one of the guys holding Mike down asked, “What about him?”
The dickhead purposely pressed his knee into the middle of Mike’s back, causing him to grunt. Goddamn, that hurts.
Glancing down at him, Fuller instructed his agents, “Cuff him. Wait until we leave, and then bring him in.”
“She doesn’t know anything,” Mike spoke through a set of clinched teeth as one of the fuckers on top of him cinched their cuffs around his wrists.
“Is that information coming from Michael Bradshaw, CIA Paramilitary Operations Officer?” Fuller grinned. “Or Jay Reynolds, the guy she thinks has been sleeping with her sweet ass?”
“You son of a—” Mike tried fighting the two men again, but it was no use.
“Keep him here until we’re clear. I’ll meet you back at headquarters.” Fuller started to leave again, but then stopped for a second time. “And make sure you bring him in through the front and not the back. Just like you would any other suspect.”
“You sure?” one of the two men asked.
Fuller nodded. “As much as I’d love to see the look on Farrow’s face when she learns the truth about who he really is, letting that particular cat out of the bag too early could screw the pooch on this one.”
Without another word, the asshole finally left Juliet’s apartment. As ordered, the men holding him down waited until he’d driven off before picking him up and planting him on his feet.
“Come on, man.” The bigger of the two nudged him forward. “We’re all on the same side here, right?”
The only side Mike was on was Juliet’s, but damn it...he wouldn’t be any good to her if he continued acting like a full-blown alpha protector.
“Yeah, asshole.” He glanced over his
shoulder. “We’re on the same side. So why don’t you take these fucking things off me?”
Tweedle Dum shook his head. “Can’t. You heard the boss. Not until we’re inside the station.”
“You know how this works, Bradshaw.” Tweedle Dee spoke as he took the lead. “Cuffs come off once we have you in a secured room, away from the Volkov chick.”
“It’s Farrow, you prick.” They approached the black SUV. “And how many times do I have to tell you assholes. She’s not associated with her father.”
Tweedle Dee glanced back at him as he opened the back door. “You sure about that? ’Cause Fuller said—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what that douchebag said,” Mike cut him off. “I’ve been working this case for a long fucking time, and I’m telling you, she’s clean.”
“Yeah? Then why did a judge sign off on an order to bring her in?” Tweedle Dum asked.
“Fuck if I know.” But he would damn sure find out.
On their insistence, Mike climbed into the backseat.
“Watch your head,” one of the men warned.
Better watch your fucking back.
The second the door was shut, Mike closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Damn it, these guys were on his side. At least they were supposed to be.
After ten years of playing the game, he was finding it harder and harder to determine the good guys from the bad. For now, he had no choice but to do as Lopez had instructed and go along with this bullshit.
An hour later, he was still waiting in an interrogation room inside Las Vegas’ FBI headquarters. Like a common criminal.
That’s what you’re supposed to be, remember?
The sound of metal clanging together filled the small room as Mike rested his elbows on the table in front of him. Becoming antsier by the minute, his right leg began to bounce as he waited for someone to come in with an update on Jules.
When he was about two seconds away from going postal on all their asses, the door to the room opened and Benjamin Lopez walked in carrying a t-shirt and a manila folder. Of medium height and build, the middle-aged man with his dark hair and pressed suit looked more like a lawyer than a CIA handler.