Broken Promises (The Broken Road Series Book 2)

by Melissa Huie

  “You’re going to nurse me back to health? You know that requires a naughty nurse uniform right?” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Seriously? The man was shot and he’s already thinking about getting some action? I groaned and swatted his arm lightly.

  “If that’s what it takes to get you better and home, fine. I’ll pick one up tomorrow,” I joked, rolling my eyes. “Get some sleep. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  By the time I got back to the waiting room, exhaustion kicked in and my body felt like it was dragging. I was ready to drop. Hell, the hard-as-stone chairs looked mighty comfortable at this point. Even Kyle thinks so, I thought, finding him snoring away in the corner. Where the hell did Tommy go?

  “Hey, wake up,” I said loudly, kicking the leg of his chair. Kyle woke with a start.

  “Gee thanks for that.” He said snidely, stretching his long legs.

  “Where’s Tommy?”

  “I came in and he was on his way out the door. He had to go write up what happened so I’m taking you back to Mom’s. We’ll get your car tomorrow.” He yawned loudly.

  Good. I didn’t want to have to deal with Tommy’s questioning. “Let’s go, I’m beat.” I replied.

  “Yeah, I can see that grump ass.” I smacked him hard on the upper arm, which he just brushed off.

  “How is he?” Kyle asked, once we were in his truck. With the heater running full blast, I felt my bones begin to thaw.

  “His lung collapsed but other than that, he’s good. Bullet didn’t do any major damage and he should be out in a few days.”

  “That’s good news. Did he say what happened?” Kyle asked, making the left onto 450. I relayed what Shane told me and finished by the time we reached Patuxent River Road.

  Kyle whistled. “Damn Megan. What the hell was he doing with Diego? I thought he would stay clear of that mess.”

  I rubbed my eyes as a yawn escaped. “I don’t know. I truly don’t know. He says it is because of what they did to Eric, to him, and what they did to us. I don’t know if he’s trying to prove something or purely revenge. But whatever it is, I’m tired of it.”

  Kyle slowed the truck down as he went around a sharp curve. The twisty, windy road ran through the hills and dense woods of Davidsonville and wasn’t the most driver friendly. Blind curves, wet roads and skittish wildlife were the frequent causes of many accidents, regardless of the time of day.

  “Kyle, look out!” I cried, as a silver sedan pulled out in front of us from a blind curve.

  Kyle slammed on his brakes, almost hitting the car. “What the fuck?” Kyle shouted. The silver sedan sped off, oblivious to the fact that we almost wrecked. “Goddamned mother—Are you okay?”

  I let out a shaky breath as he slowly presses on the gas. “Yeah.” I glanced over as we passed the entrance to Davidsonville Park. A slight wisp of smoke caught my attention. “Kyle, do you see that? I think I saw smoke coming from back there.”

  Cursing under his breath, he pulled a u-turn at Double Gate Road. “Fuck. I need to check it out.” Kyle pulled into the dark athletic park. Scanning the fields as we slowly drove down the road, he muttered, “Keep your eyes open. Let me know if you see anything.”

  “It’s pitch black; I can’t see my hand in front of my face.” I replied, looking out my window.

  “Hold up. Is that smoke?” Kyle peered ahead and accelerated. The truck surged forward and ran over the speed bump as if it were a crack in the road. In the back corner of the park, next a brick building was a large vehicle SUV on fire. “Shit.”

  Before we were even parked, he dialed dispatch. “Yeah, this is Officer Kyle Connors, ID Number P37262. Want to report a vehicle fire at Davidsonville Park, Patuxent River Road. Victims unknown. I also want to get out an APB on a silver Cadillac CTS that left the scene not more than 5 minutes ago, heading south on Patuxent River Road. Plate number is X-ray, Tango, Foxtrot, number one, number four, number seven.” Pause. “Yeah, I’ll meet him here.” He flipped off the phone and threw the truck in park.

  “Stay here!” he ordered, grabbing a small extinguisher from behind his seat.

  I watched in fear as my younger brother did his best to fight the blaze with his extinguisher. But the small canister lost the battle against the flame-engulfed vehicle.

  Throwing the canister aside, he rushed back to the truck. “I couldn’t get close enough to do anything and sure as hell can’t see if anyone was inside.

  Five minutes later, the sirens of Crofton’s fire department echoed through the night, followed by several police cars. Kyle and I stood back, letting the professionals do what they did best while answering questions from the police. We just finished up before a shout was heard over the loud engines of the trucks.

  “We have a body!”

  Several of the officers, including Kyle, ran over to the smoldering vehicle. I climbed back into the truck and waited. For some reason seeing a burned out corpse wasn’t ranking high on my list of things I’d rather be doing.

  Ten minutes later, Kyle walked over to me, his face grim. He climbed into the truck, rubbed his face, and stared at the officers working at the scene.

  “Kyle?” I asked gently, not knowing what to say.

  “We know her. I mean, we knew her,” Kyle said softly.

  “Who was it Kyle?” My heart leapt to my throat and I grabbed his hand.

  “Rachel Morrison,”

  The name of Adrian’s former girlfriend brought tears to my eyes and my heart sank.

  “Are you sure it was her?” I demanded, waiting for a glimmer of hope.

  Kyle nodded. “Yeah. Her wallet was found a good ways outside the car, as if whoever did this wanted the police to know it was her.”

  “Oh no.” I breathed through the sudden nausea billowing up.

  “What happened?” I asked shakily. Kyle draped his arm around my shoulder and sighed. “Kyle, what the fuck happened?” I demanded.

  “I don’t know Megs. Detective Ford is taking lead. He’s one of the best in the state, if not region. I’m going to take you home, then I’m coming back to see if I can be of any assistance.” He turned the key and slowly made his way past the roaming officers and pulled back onto the street.

  Rachel, the sister of slain Eric Morrison, one of Shane’s best friends and member of the Cruz Cartel. Eric died in a drug deal last year. His death was the catalyst for Shane being put into the safe house. Rachel was a school teacher, and Adrian’s long-time love. Once Rachel heard how Eric died and that Adrian knew about the Cartel, she left him and never saw him again. Another life lost at the hands of the Cartel. I had no proof what-so-ever that the Cartel was behind this, but the knots in my gut told me otherwise.

  I let the tears fall freely as Kyle pulled into the driveway. Dark and quiet, I looked at the empty house with apprehension. After everything that happened in the last six hours, I really didn’t want to be in there by myself.

  “Why don’t you stay with us? You don’t need to stay here,” offered Kyle, seeing my hesitation.

  I shook my head and stared at the dark house. “I know. I just want to sleep in my bed.” The drama of the day weighed heavily on my shoulders. Pull up your big girl undies and get in there, I told myself. But the seatbelt didn’t magically come off and I couldn’t budge.

  Kyle got out of the truck. “At least let me check out the house. Stay here.” I rolled my eyes at his command. Yeah buddy, I ain’t going anywhere.

  Each window lit up as Kyle checked the rooms. After five minutes, he poked his head out. “It’s clear,” he called. The second he said those words, my ass was out of that truck and into the house so fast it was as if the boogie man himself was chasing me. Once inside and behind the safety of the locked doors, I found myself able to breathe.

  “You better get going,” I told my brother as I poured myself a glass of milk. “Sarah’s going to be worried.” I knew my old college roommate – and Kyle’s wife - understood the downfalls of marrying a cop, but I hate
d to have her worry unnecessarily.

  “I called her when I came in. She insisted that I stay here tonight.” He said, stretching his legs out on the couch.

  “So you’re not going back?”

  Kyle adjusted the floral throw pillow. “Nope. I have orders from She-who-must-be-obeyed to stay right here.”

  I groaned. “I’ll be fine. Go home to your wife,” I protested, sitting on the brown chair across from him. Penny came over and laid her head on my lap, sensing my need for comfort.

  “Your friend threatened to withhold any martial benefits if I listened to you. And I love my martial benefits,” Kyle smirked. He closed his eyes. “Just grab me a blanket from Mom’s room and you won’t even know I’m here.”

  I obliged, setting the alarm when I returned. Soft snores already radiated from the couch as I placed Mom’s navy fleece blanket over Kyle’s lanky form. With Penny and Mom’s fourteen year old bichon, Micki, padding behind me, I headed down the hall, to my cramped bedroom. Overflowing laundry baskets held our clothes and Katie’s bassinet was squeezed into the corner next to the full sized bed Shane and I shared. Shedding my clothes and dropping them on the floor, I collapsed onto the bed in tears, crying myself to sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Shane was released from the hospital a week later. Once released, he demanded to be brought up to speed on the standing of the Cruz Cartel. Despite Tommy’s earlier protests that the Cartel members had dispersed, new evidence from Kate’s sources in Miami brought to light their latest underground dealings – they had become more active in Florida. We learned from Kate and Rick that the Cartel was not only back in business, but was gaining serious momentum. Kate was brought back to the case, flying directly from her secret European city to Miami, just hours after Shane returned home. Tommy went back to the case with full-force. I worried that keeping Shane’s activities from him would do more harm than good, but Kate and Shane were adamant we needed to stay quiet.

  The situation with the Cartel only escalated when Kyle’s connection with Detective Ford exposed that not only was the Cartel back, but their products were back on the street. Going on his gut assumption and knowledge of the Cartel’s history, Shane met with Detective Ford and the forensics teams. With Shane’s confirmation that the rims from the burnt out SUV were the same custom rims belonging to the Cartel, the FBI had a solid link to Rachel’s death and was only the latest in their investigation. But all they had was the connection. No other evidence was found at the scene.

  There was been enough evidence left that a medical examiner could do an autopsy and ruled cause of death as a suspicious overdose, not smoke inhalation. There was enough uncut heroin in her system to kill three large men. This wasn’t an accident but, until more evidence was found, no charges could be filed.

  The death of a well-liked elementary school teacher, as well as the public’s frustration with the sudden violence in the area, pushed the FBI to act quickly. Going on leads and circumstantial findings, many lower end thugs were picked off the streets, only to be released hours later thanks to the Cartel’s money-grubbing attorneys.

  Fear and anxiety were my everyday companions. My faith in Tommy’s confidence that the Cartel wasn’t after my family lessened. My gut told me differently. Shane was hell bent that I carry, regardless of the fact that I knew he had a handgun and that Cole and his crew were packing as well. Gun handling was not new to me; my father insisted I learn the responsibilities and proper safety as soon as I could hold a pistol in my hands. But never before did I picture using one, not until last summer, when I killed a man.

  Kyle and Shane requested – no, demanded – that our family move to the family farm, thirty minutes away from Mom’s house. With five acres of rolling hills, woods, and backing to the West River, Hollow Creek Meadows seemed to be worlds away from the hustle and bustle of the city and it provided a safe haven for my family. A tobacco farm since the colonial times, the farm had been in my mother’s family for generations. After my great-grandfather passed away, my grandmother sold off all the equipment and tobacco seedlings, leaving the place to fall apart until Mom and her siblings took it over. With new urgency, anything important, such as the roof or furnace, was fixed immediately. All the cosmetic fixes were left for later.

  Of course, Kyle, Shane, and Cole added their own enhancements to the farm when we all moved in. They installed perimeter lights, motion and vehicle detectors that surrounded the property, and a security fence and gate. Cole even moved himself and dog Jax into the one bedroom guest house that Aunt Nancy lived in while overseeing the repairs. We are more secure than Fort Knox. While it might be a bit excessive, no one was taking any chances. The house may not have central air conditioning, but it has one hell of a security plan.

  “You’re getting better,” Shane commented after I shot the neck off an empty bottle of wine I had finished the night before.

  Shane, now fully healed a month after his latest brush with death, was my shadow for today. He’s been my shadow. If he couldn’t watch over us, he would send for Cole or Cole’s friend Sketch, whose appearance would frighten the most hardened criminal. Yes, I know I bitched about how he was frequently gone. But that doesn’t mean I wanted him constantly up my ass either. I was essentially a prisoner in my own home. He raised my paranoia, with every second glance behind him or the grim line of alertness on his lips. Our travels, whenever I was allowed off the property, were random and we never took the same route twice in one day. It was the paranoia that led me to take a leave of absence from Uncle Bob’s office. I had enough savings from the insurance of both the house and the car accident to pay for the minimal incidentals and Katie’s diapers and formula, and it afforded me to be able to be with her at all times. There was no way I would chance leaving her at this point.

  I blew a wisp of dark brown hair out of my face, checked the chamber and unclipped the magazine, and inhaled the aroma of hay and the sweet warm, spring breeze. “Well I should hope so. After practicing for the last three weeks, I’m bound to show some improvement,” I joked.

  At least I managed to hit some of the targets that were lined up near the barn. I placed the clip and safety glasses on the wooden table next to me and sat down next to Shane.

  “Your turn,” I said, lightly smacking his denim thigh. Today had been a hard day working on the basement in the farm house. After much bickering between the two of us, Mom finally suggested taking out our aggressions on targets. And a much needed distraction it was. We went from grump asses to smiling and talking smack. The way we used to be. I felt comfortable again, easy going. As if the world wasn’t crumbling around us.

  He stood and stretched, with his long-sleeved, navy blue Henley shirt riding up just enough to see his toned abs. The tiny hint of flesh and ink gave me a little thrill. He took his place at the line, pulled on his gloves and picked up his own recently acquired 9mm—although how legal and legit it was, I’ll never ask. One by one, the rounds fired found their target. I watched Shane, his expression cold and determined, as if Christian Cruz himself standing at the end of the range.

  We took turns for an hour, with him correcting my aim and posture. By the time the handguns had been unloaded, cleaned, and put back into the cases, the breeze picked up and a spring thunderstorm rolled in. We were washing our hands from the manual pump inside the barn as the first drops started falling.

  “Should we chance it?” I asked, watching the fat rain drops fell harder. I handed Shane the towel.

  “Nah,” Shane replied as a boom of thunder shook the ground, “It’s good quarter-mile back to the house, and unless you want to get soaked, we’re better off here.” He secured the gun cases to the back of our Kawasaki ATV. The lightning cracked close by, making me jump. Shane chuckled and standing behind me, drew me close.

  “Besides. I kinda miss having you all to myself,” he whispered in my ear.

  Shivers went down my spine and I closed my eyes, leaning back on his chest. It’s true. We truly hadn’t had a moment’
s peace ever since the fire. And now that we’re living with both my mother and my aunt—every sigh or mumble is overheard. On the plus side, having an extra pair of hands around to help with Katie is very beneficial for moments like these.

  “I miss this too,” I muttered. I let out a soft moan as he kissed a trail down my neck, my body clenching tightly as hot desire flooded through me. It’s been way too long. Shane’s hands roamed under my shirt and cupped my breasts. Arching into him more, the evidence of his arousal pushed against my back. I turned my head, catching his lips with mine. Fervent hunger pulsing through me, I put my hands over his, mimicking the kneading motion he was doing to my breasts, then trailed my hands down to my own jeans. Slick with need, I furiously unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs, silently thankful I had thought to shave my legs this morning.

  I turned around in his arms and stared into his hazel eyes, now hooded in arousal. Quickly discarding my own green thermal shirt, bra, and low rise Converses, I took my time removing Shane’s clothes. Not breaking eye contact, I glided the tips of my fingers up his rib cage, as I pull both of his shirts over his head. I slide my fingers down to undo the button on his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles. Running my fingers over the tented bulge in his boxers, I enjoyed the hiss of breath he makes, as he sharply inhales. Smiling, I take his fingers and started to lightly suck each finger. Shane moaned softly as I ran his hand down the front of my body to my burning, aching core. I let out a sharp gasp as I stroked myself with his finger, in and out, fanning the flames until I couldn’t take anymore. I feel myself clinching his fingers like a vice as I shatter, my mouth falling open as I lean my head against his shoulder, trembling with aftershocks.

  “Baby, if I don’t get inside you right now, I’m going to explode,” he groaned in my ear. I mewled in protest as he withdrew his hand. He grabbed his shirt from the ground and laid it down on the bales of hay. Laying me down, he thrust into me, burying himself deep in one fluid motion. I moaned and threw my arms around his neck, hanging on while the wave of pleasure rose higher and higher. The thunder and rain outside our little sanctuary did little to muffle our cries as we both shattered in ecstasy.