by Hollis Wynn
AEGIS
An Everyday Heroes Novel
Hollis Wynn
Contents
Untitled
Introduction
Aegis
Chapter One—BellaRose
Chapter Two—Pennington
Chapter Three—BellaRose
Chapter Four—BellaRose
Chapter Five—BellaRose
Chapter Six—BellaRose
Chapter Seven—Pennington
Chapter Eight—BellaRose
Chapter Nine—BellaRose
Chapter Ten—BellaRose
Chapter Eleven—BellaRose
Chapter Twelve—BellaRose
Chapter Thirteen—BellaRose
Chapter Fourteen—Pennington
Chapter Fifteen—BellaRose
Chapter Sixteen—BellaRose
Chapter Seventeen—Pennington
Chapter Eighteen—BellaRose
Chapter Nineteen—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty—Pennington
Chapter Twenty-One—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty-Two—Pennington
Chapter Twenty-Three—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty-Four—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty-Five—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty-Six—Pennington
Chapter Twenty-Seven—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty-Eight—BellaRose
Chapter Twenty-Nine—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty-One—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty-Two—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty-Three—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty-Four—Pennington
Chapter Thirty-Five—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty-Six—Pennington
Chapter Thirty-Seven—BellaRose
Chapter Thirty-Eight—BellaRose
Epilogue—BellaRose
KB Worlds
Playlist
Also by Hollis Wynn
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Untitled
[ Image: image1.png ]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.
© 2021 KB WORLDS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Published by KB Worlds LLC.
Cover Design by: Kate Farlow, @Y’all That Graphic
Cover Image by: Wander Aguilar
Model: Zack Salaun
Editing by: Missy Borucki
Formatting by: Hollis Wynn
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my daddy, the man who epitomized the phrase “kill ’em with kindness.” You taught me to be kind to everyone, even the most despicable human. Thank you for being a wonderful man and teacher. I love you!
Introduction
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the Everyday Heroes World!
I’m so excited you’ve picked up this book! Aegis is a book based on the world I created in my USA Today bestselling Everyday Heroes Series. While I may be finished writing this series (for now), various authors have signed on to keep them going. They will be bringing you all-new stories in the world you know while allowing you to revisit the characters you love.
This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I allowed them to use the world I created and may have assisted in some of the plotting, I took no part in the writing or editing of the story. All praise can be directed their way.
I truly hope you enjoy Aegis. If you’re interested in finding more authors who have written in the KB Worlds, you can visit www.kbworlds.com.
Thank you for supporting the writers in this project and me.
Happy Reading,
K. Bromberg
Aegis
Ae·gis /ˈējis/ noun
the protection, backing, or support of a particular person or organization.
Chapter One—BellaRose
With a sullen gray sky, the cool wind combined with the muggy heat creates a unique vortex of hot and cold. As I walk around the small pond, I hold the cup of hot tea closer to my nose, breathing in the aroma of citrus and spice. Trees line the secluded path, and I think about all the times I’ve come here to clear my head in the past couple of years. It’s a quiet morning, and other than my footsteps, mostly what I hear are birds chirping and the rustle of leaves. Until an unexpected sound permeates my senses.
On the whisper of the wind, I hear the faint cry of a baby. Which is an odd sound to hear out here since there isn’t anyone else nearby. I pause and listen, hearing it again. Looking around, I twist side to side, but I don’t see anyone. Deciding it must be my imagination, I continue my walk.
Ahead a few yards, I notice a large trashcan on the edge of the parking lot and think to myself, No fucking way. But, as I approach the can, the wails of a tiny infant flood the air. As though my head is on a swivel, I scan the area to see if anyone is lurking in the shadows. Seeing no one, I reach forward, flip up the large lid, and immediately drop my cup, warm tea splashing all over me and the ground.
“What the fuck? Who the hell leaves a baby in a trash can?”
The smell of rotting food and dead skunk assaults my nose. I pause for a second before reaching in and scooping the tiny pink bundle into my arms and holding her to my chest.
Holding the baby with one arm, I say a quick prayer that she isn’t laying on top of a dismembered body, and I grab the straps of the duffle bag, lifting it out of the trash can. Setting it down at my feet, I squat to rummage through what I expect will be baby items, but my fingertips come in contact with squares wrapped in plastic. Against my better judgment, I pull out a brick of plastic and I immediately recognize the smell of pot. I drop the bundle of marijuana back into the bag as if it were a snake that had bitten me. It is then that I feel a wet, sticky substance on my fingers and look down at the crimson streaks on my hand.
Deciding it doesn’t matter what else is in the bag, I toss it back in the can and spin on my heel to get out of here as quickly as I can. As I clutch the baby to my chest and hastily walk to my car, my mind spins a million miles an hour.
Who the hell would do this to an infant?
What kind of maniac put her in a garbage can and left her to die?
As I get closer to the car, my pace slows, and I can feel all the hair on my body stand on end. Again, I turn and look out at the pond, scanning each tree around the water, looking for the vile piece of shit who would do this to a child.
I open the rear of my SUV and grab the cardboard box of emergency supplies, quickly dumping it out gently placing her on the bottom. I tuck a towel around her to keep her from sliding around.
As I strap the box into the front seat, I can’t help but be terrified that I have stumbled upon some sort of drug deal or human trafficking exchange. Suddenly it feels as if a ghost has settled upon me, and chills run up and down my spine.
Quietly I close the door so I don’t startle her, then run to the other side of the car. My heart feels as though it’s going to beat out of my chest as the adrenaline dumps into my veins. I
jump into the driver’s seat, punching the start button with shaky hands, and instantly throw the car into reverse. I’m careful to exit the lot quickly, but not so much as to bring any extra attention to myself.
As I turn onto the street, I reach across my body, fastening the seat belt into place. I keep glancing over at the baby who has seemed to calm down some as she’s no longer screaming bloody murder. Glancing at the touch screen in my car, I notice my phone has connected to Bluetooth.
I press Laken’s name because I’m seriously out of my element here. She answers the phone and doesn’t get out more than two words before I cut her off.
“Listen to me, Lake. I need you to grab whatever you have left over from when Liberty was a tiny baby and bring it to my house. Now. I just found a baby in a trashcan near the pond. And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with her. You’ve still got some bottles or diapers and clothes, right? I’m going straight to my house. Call me when you get close, and I’ll open the door for you. Don’t tell Callan. Just hurry.” The words tumble from my lips at a rapid rate. The stress is evident in the way my voice cracks.
“Holy shit, Bella, are you okay? You’re scaring me.” Her voice breaks, and it’s obvious she’s freaking out as much as I am.
“I’m fine. Just get to my house. Oh, and I’m going to need some formula if you have it.”
Checking the rearview mirror, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being followed. I tell myself I’m crazy because there was no one else around.
“I’ll stop on the way.” Laken says.
The light turns green, and I turn into my neighborhood.
“Thanks, girl. I’ll see you in a few.”
Pulling into my garage, I press the overhead button to close the door before I get out of the car. Who knew I’d be so thankful for the extra depth of this garage. It comes in quite handy when hiding a baby I found in a trashcan.
That sounds like something out of a horror story.
It doesn’t take me long to unstrap the box and get her into the house. Placing the box on the dining room table, I drop my purse next to it and I hurry to close the shades in the living room. I pick her up just as she wails again. This girl has got to be starving, I think to myself as I unwrap her from the blanket. She is completely drenched.
Shit, Laken. Where are you?
Removing all of her clothes and diaper, I pull a T-shirt out of the laundry basket. For once, it pays to have not put my clean clothes away. I wrap her in the soft gray shirt to keep her dry, while I figure out what I’m going to feed her. Obviously, table food is a no-go, but I have no idea if I can give her regular milk, water, or juice.
Before I do something that will come back at me in the form of projectile vomit, I text Laken.
Me: Where are you? She was soaked, so I took her clothes off and wrapped her in a shirt.
Me: She has to be hungry. Can I give her milk or water?
Laken: No, I’ll be there in a couple minutes. I have a bottle and formula with me. Don’t do anything until I get there.
Me: Okay, just hurry.
Since my experience with infants is limited to the time I’ve spent with Liberty, I have never had to consider what to do because Laken always left me with instructions. Plus, being a pediatric nurse, she will know exactly what we need to do next, including giving the baby a once over to make sure she is okay. Because what the hell do I know about babies? She could be sick for all I know.
I pace the floor, patting her back, murmuring to her that she’s okay. I stop to look out the front window every few moments and am thankful to see Laken pull into the driveway. Straightaway I move to unlock the front door. I take notice of the street and am relieved when I don’t see any unfamiliar cars.
The rain falls as Laken comes barreling into the house, arms filled with bags. She drops everything on the kitchen table as she lobs questions at me.
“How the hell did you find a baby? Why was she in a trash can? Did you call anyone?” She takes the baby from my arms and sits on the couch with her. “Let me just check her out really quick, while I tell you how to make her a bottle.”
“Jesus, Lake, I can read the directions on a can of formula.” Rolling my eyes, I search through the bags until I find a container of premixed formula. Picking it up, I ask, “How long should I warm it up for? I don’t want to scald her.”
I look over to Lake and wait for her response while she uses her stethoscope to listen to the baby’s chest.
“All you need to do is take the lid off the formula, heat it for no more than ten seconds and add the nipple and ring to the bottle and shake it gently so there are no hot zones,” she instructs as she puts a diaper and clean onsie on the squalling baby.
Once the bottle is ready, I bring it to her and ask, “What now?”
“Now, you tell me exactly what happened and bring me the other stuff that’s on the table.” I do as she demands and watch her process of feeding and burping her, while I regale her with all the details.
“It wasn’t anything crazy. I was at the pond, thinking about the end of school and my parents, when I heard a baby crying. No one else was there so at first I thought I was hearing things. But the crying was getting louder the closer I got to the parking lot. I followed the sound, and I found her laying on top of a mound of pot in one of those large trash cans with a flip top lid.”
Laken’s jaw drops open, and her eyebrows jump. “Seriously? Who the fuck puts a baby in a trashcan?”
“Dead serious. You know this area is a corridor for human trafficking but I’m over the top shocked that I found a baby in a trashcan.” I flop down onto the couch as the adrenaline takes another hit to my system and I’m immediately exhausted.
“So, what now? Whatcha gonna do? I really think you need to call the police.” She pauses to put the baby on her shoulder, patting her back.
“I. Am. Not. Calling the police. For all they know, I could’ve kidnapped this baby and I’m not going down for that shit.” I shake my head.
Not happening, at least not tonight.
“Damn, girl, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into? You know I’m required to report this,” Laken reminds me.
“Fuck,” I curse, hanging my head in defeat. I hadn’t thought of her professional obligations.
Before I can ask for the night to figure things out, Laken hands me the baby and adds, “But I have up to forty-eight hours to make a formal notification.”
I sigh in relief. “Thank you, Lake. I will figure this out.”
Laken picks her stethoscope up off the couch, where it sits beside her before standing to leave.
“I’ll keep my phone close in case you need anything, but don’t call me at two in the morning.” She turns and picks up her purse. “Oh, and a little advice, when she wakes up in the middle of the night screaming for a bottle, don’t turn on the lights unless you wanna stay up with her for the rest of the night.”
“Noted. Anything else I should know, Mary Poppins?”
Cutting her eyes at me, Laken adds, “No, Trash-Can-Momma, I think that’s it.”
An hour later, I find myself surrounding the sleeping infant with pillows in the middle of my bed. I welcome the silence and opportunity to shower off the day’s bizarre events.
After a quick, but hot shower, I pick up the remote and turn on the nightly news, then continue to dry myself off with the soft gray towel. As I reach into my dresser for a pajama shirt, the newscast cuts to a male voice pleading for the safe return of his missing one-month-old granddaughter and I freeze as if I had been caught red-handed.
Turning my full attention to the flatscreen on the wall, I face evil incarnate. The voice of the so-called doting grandfather is none other than fucking Kaiser Sharpe.
Wait? How the hell did I end up with Kaiser Sharpe’s grandchild asleep in the middle of my king size bed? Or is there another missing baby in the city? Considering the size of Houston, she’s probably not the only one.
The paranoia I felt earlier to
day is nothing compared to the sheer panic that is now coursing through my veins.
I continue watching the news to see if there is anything else going on that will lead me to the identity of her parents, but the only other notable thing is a murder-suicide of a young man and his girlfriend, whose names haven’t been released yet.
Me: LAKE! Did you see the news? Kaiser Sharpe is offering a reward for the return of his granddaughter, who was kidnapped.
Laken: What does that have to do with you?
Me: His granddaughter is only a month old . . .
Laken: Shit.
Me: I don’t know for sure, but I’m not giving this innocent baby over to a man like him.
Laken: I get it, but you don’t have any rights to her, and I have to file a report.
Me: Fine, I’ll call CPS and leave a message. Hopefully, someone will call me back on Monday.
Laken: Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow we can figure out what to do next.
Me: Thanks.
Laying here on my bed, my mind won’t stop racing. There’s no way I can hand over an infant to the authorities if she’s going to be endangered. I quickly realize I’m ass-deep in trouble, and there’s only one place I know I can hide.