Secrets Unsealed: A Triggerman Inc. Story

by Marie Harte

  Noel shook his head. “She lied about a lot of things, unfortunately. Burleigh isn’t the end of this. But he’s one step closer. I think we’ll find a lot once we dig through his townhouse.”

  “Townhouse?” Deacon said, his voice hoarse.

  She blinked down at him, and he gripped her hand. “Thank God. You’ve been lazing around long enough.” She had to clear her throat to rid herself of the emotion balled there. “Slacker.”

  He smiled, and the fog in his gaze cleared. “Hey. I have a hot woman fussing over me and sack time away from General Cavanaugh. Freakin’ dictator.”

  Hammer gave a ghost of a smile. “You got that right.”

  “Hey.” Noel walked forward and took Deacon’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “We were worried there for a while. You lost a lot of blood.”

  “It was a ploy to get Solene to admit she loves me. You know, a dying man’s wish…” He glanced at her, one brow raised in question.

  “I think I’ve already proven how much I love you,” she said drily. “Remember?” As she’d hoped, he got the reference. His face brightened, the big dope. Solene had to chuckle. She couldn’t believe she’d resorted to a reminder of kinky sex to admit to loving him. “Yeah, that’s really what it meant.”

  He beamed.

  “Not quite as good a declaration of love as shoving me in a closet and confessing you love me before telling me to shut up and stay put, though.”

  Hammer cringed. “Oh man. That’s awful.”

  “Really?” Deacon gripped her hand so tightly it hurt but having him back made it all worth it. “Because the way she declared it to me involved—”

  She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Never mind. Suffice it to say I’m keeping him. And if he wants to stay with me, he’s mostly retired from his old job.”

  “Mostly?” Hammer stared down at them, looking confused.

  “Well, he’s going to teach me how to throw a knife and do some of those fancy moves. But he’s going to be living here, full-time,” she warned Deacon though she spoke to Hammer. “Plus, he’s going to be my food director in the new place I’m opening downtown. A sandwich and soup shop, I think. I’m looking for a manager for Ash Daycare. Interested?”

  Hammer violently shook his head.

  “And this shop will sell nutritious food, right?” Deacon teased.

  “And pastries.”

  “Maybe.” Deacon released her hand and ran his fingers over hers. “Now you guys get out so I can convince her to keep me for real.”

  Hammer sighed. “What is the deal with all these women having such poor taste? First Addy, then you, Solene. I’m both saddened and shocked…and I had better be a groomsman at both weddings,” he warned his friends before leaving.

  Noel chuckled. “I’m too afraid to say no. Good luck with that, Deacon.” He smiled at Solene. “But Hammer’s wrong about one thing. You made a pretty good choice by standing by this one, Solene. And you know, he can cook. Better keep him near. Our next dinner invite is going to be a potluck, so bring something tasty. Now I’d better go rescue Little Dee from the yelling that’s about to come. Addy putting him in the cute little Chicago Bears onesie Vi gave him, and Hammer’s going to go ballistic about it.” Noel winked and left.

  Solene watched the door close then scooted her chair closer to Deacon.

  “I want to sit up.” He fiddled with the bed remote.

  She helped him sit up with the inclined bed and leaned in for a kiss. After, to cover her overwhelming feelings, she teased, “Nice hospital breath.”

  He flushed. “Hey, totally not my fault.” He cupped his hand and blew into it. “Oh, hell. It is bad.”

  Solene laughed so hard she almost fell off her chair. “S-sorry.” She wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. “Truth hurts.”

  “I’ll give you some truth,” he muttered, sounding so much like her Deacon.

  “Well, something has to be wrong with you. Even shot up and recovering from a botched hit, you look amazing.”

  “Botched hit? You’ve been hanging with Hammer too long.”

  “More like Noel. He was spending a lot of time watching over you the past two days,” she admitted. “I’m worried about Hammer. He’s taking Vi’s actions pretty hard.”

  “I’m confused. How did you go from being in the closet to stabbing Burleigh in the heart? And baby, I am so fucking proud of you for that. You were so badass.”

  She sighed. “I want to feel bad about killing a man. It’s wrong. It’s terrible… Then I remember him threatening to kill you, about all the women he’s hurt, and I want to stab him all over again.”

  Deacon’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”

  “Am I?” she asked quietly. “Did you mean what you said, or was that the danger talking?”

  “You are so—”

  “If you say stupid, I will yank the painkiller from your IV and force you to watch Flip These Houses with me, followed by Antique Junkers. You’ve been warned.”

  He cringed. “Ah, I was going to say you are so much better than I am. I know I’m not worthy, but I plan on keeping you.” He swallowed hard, and she realized that for all Deacon was trying to joke with her, he was vulnerable, fearful even. That she’d say no?

  “Keeping me?”

  He nodded. “Solene, I’ve loved you for a while now. It scares the hell out of me. I’ve never loved anyone. I have the same scars you do, except I really am a bad pick. I shouldn’t say that, but it’s true. I love you. I want to be with you all the time. And I had planned on quitting my job if you ever said yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “To marrying me. To being my wife.” His eyes looked glassy, and she couldn’t believe he seemed near tears, which made her eyes blurry. “I can’t give you children, baby. And that’s a problem if you want a family.” He swallowed audibly. “But we can adopt. I want to give you everything. You’re so worth it.”

  She sniffed. “Oh my God. Stop it. Even shot up you’re acting like you can do no wrong. And we both know you can.”

  He nodded.

  “Stop agreeing with me!”

  He didn’t let go of her hand, stroking her fingers, a small smile on his face.

  “I love you. God knows I didn’t want to fall in love. I don’t like men. I don’t trust men, and you have women falling all over themselves for you left and right. But I’m me when I’m with you. And you don’t care. You like me.”

  “Blondie, I love you.”

  “Noel said you’re rich.”

  He looked confused at the change in subject, but he nodded. “Not as rich as you, but I’m close.”

  “Do you need to work again, ever?”

  “Nope. I can give you everything you need.”

  “So, another point in your favor. You’re not marrying me for my money.”

  “No. I can give you everything you need,” he said again, then sighed. “Except a baby.”

  “Liar.” She brought his hand to her belly and smiled. “You made me sick, you big goof.”

  “Huh?”

  She splayed his fingers over her abdomen. “You said you didn’t think you could have children. But that was a big fat lie. You knocked me up. We never used protection because you said you were shooting blanks, remember? Well, you must have loaded the gun with live ammo at some point, because…” She felt wildly excited, scared, and thrilled all at once.

  “Holy shit.” He sat up fast and groaned. “Wait. Are you telling me you’re…?”

  “Pregnant. And in case you’re thinking I managed to get lucky with some other guy and call it yours, we’re getting a paternity test as soon as possible to show this kid is a Shaw.”

  He glowed. “I don’t need it. God. Pregnant? Really?” The hope in his eyes lodged in her heart and filled her with joy.

  “You’re happy about this.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? Of course I am!” he shouted. “I never thought… I mean, I went to the doctors and got my workups. They told me I would probably never
father children.”

  “Probably does not mean definitely.”

  “I guess.” He looked dazed. “But I always wore protection anyway. And I never got close enough with anyone to want kids. Not until you.” He subtly wiped his eyes with his forearm. “Fuck, Solene. Baby, you…I…” He blew out a breath. “I love you so damn much it’s killing me not to bury myself inside you. I want us as tight as possible. But I’m just too out of it right now.”

  “I know.” She leaned close and kissed him. “I’m going to wait. And buddy, if you don’t make up for that terrible closet declaration, I will shoot you.”

  He grinned. “Guess I’d better start working on my proposal then.”

  The large engagement ring in the center of a Twinkie, surrounded by bouquets of flowers while they watched a Firefly marathon, guaranteed him a hell yes.

  Hammer had no idea what to do next. He still hadn’t told Noel about his connection to Angel or the code. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Yeah, Burleigh was no longer part of the equation. His DNA didn’t match Little Dee’s either, thank God.

  Yet they still didn’t know who Little Dee belonged to, and Vi remained at large, a part of the conspiracy after them.

  It hurt that she’d turned on them like that. No matter what Deacon and Solene said, he’d seen her aim at them. Must have been dumb luck she’d hit the guy behind them instead of Deacon.

  Damn her anyway.

  She’d put Solene at risk. What information did Burleigh have that Vi wanted so badly? For that matter, what had she gleaned from being close to them for those few weeks she’d been at Noel’s? What had she learned from Big Joe, and why was the bastard being so cagey about what he knew of her?

  What was Big Joe hiding?

  Hammer was glad to have Addy’s house to himself. With the others staying with Noel—Addy now living there and Deacon and Solene recovering from their ordeal—it was up to him to take the lead on their problem.

  The townhouse they’d found when backtracking Burleigh had turned up a few mercs, one of whom preferred to talk in lieu of Hammer’s method of interrogation. The weak bastard had admitted they had a big boss.

  Not Burleigh, who’d acted as the man’s accountant and been responsible for Brenda Rice’s death, but a different man. One who knew his way around surveillance. Only one of the mercs in that house had seen him and worked with him one on one, and that guy refused to talk. He’d taken his own life instead.

  But something the narc had said told Hammer he’d been right to keep his knowledge of Angel to himself. The big boss had been looking for something. For someone. A link to an angel, the weasel had heard mentioned more than once.

  Not to be confused with Burleigh’s angels, which the big boss found humorous. A play on words and a way to confuse his targets.

  Hammer grunted. He knew for sure Angel was involved now. Or at least, she had been. The baby, Mexico, the cartel—he had a few suspicions about who they should be targeting in their investigation.

  Time to see a Phantom about a ghost and put this mess to bed once and for all.

  And when he got his hands on Violet, she’d wish she’d never been born.

  Thank You

  Thanks for reading Deacon and Solene’s story. The danger is ramping up for Hammer, and I can’t wait for him to meet his match in a woman with secrets of her own. Who’s the baby’s father? Where’s the real danger coming from? And what is the baby’s name going to be, anyway?

  Don’t miss the conclusion to Triggerman Inc. in Satisfaction Delivered. And if you missed how it all began, pick up Contract Signed.

  I love to hear from fans. You can contact me through my website. By joining my newsletter, you can get access to cover reveals, contests, and sneak peeks, as well as free books! You can also follow me on Facebook, Goodreads, Bookbub, and Twitter.

  And if you liked this book, please consider leaving a review.

  To Hunt a Sainte Excerpt

  Westlake Enterprises 1

  Despite the glass frame around the closed office door, Hunter needed more than perfect vision to see in the dim light. He took a moment to focus, and the office space brightened. High-quality leather furniture and expensive art decorated Omaney’s space. Photographs of the slick businessman shaking hands with prominent politicians graced the burnt orange walls while a state-of-the-art computer whirred to life on Omaney’s solid-oak desk. Where two masked figures waited.

  The arrival of security stopped the intruders’ hasty search. The door burst open, and the largest guard waved a gun at them. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing? Get away from the damned computer, on your knees.”

  The guards surrounded them, obviously expecting the masked figures to stop whatever they hell they had planned and kneel on the floor. Clad in black from head to toe, only one of the prowlers looked big enough to successfully engage his opponents. The other was smaller in comparison, a slim figure huddled behind the bigger male. So it came as a surprise to watch the smaller man attack first, taking down the largest guard with a kick to his gun hand and a punch to his neck. The intruder’s partner moved with an efficient grace. He looked as if he spared little more energy than needed to subdue the guards, working in tandem with his companion.

  In minutes, all four of Omaney’s sentries sprawled bruised and unconscious on the floor, their guns in a pile on a nearby chair. The intruders had yet to speak. The larger of the two hurried back to the computer desk and plugged in a thumb drive. He typed at the keyboard, then waited, glancing repeatedly at the clock on the wall. The smaller figure remained still, vigilant while he—or was that she?—watched the doorway.

  Hunter had sensed something odd about the smaller male, and now that he concentrated, he could make out a woman’s form under all that black. She had taken on her attackers with ease, dispatching them quickly. Her large partner had been equally skilled at hand-to-hand combat, and Hunter reevaluated his assessment of the pair, wondering exactly why they sought to invade Omaney’s space. These weren’t ordinary burglars.

  Nor was Omaney an ordinary businessman. Due to new evidence Hunter’s team had unearthed a mere week ago, he had no doubt Peter Omaney was involved in their current case. But he didn’t know where these prowlers fit into the equation. It had taken his agency time and exhausting effort to get even a whiff of Omaney’s involvement. The philanthropic businessman was squeaky clean. But obviously someone else knew there was more to Omaney than met the eye.

  What the hell had they copied? Hunter needed a bead on the computer, but knew he had little time. Though he’d kept out of the way of the security cameras, these two had activated the motion sensors in Omaney’s office. Even now, others rushed to investigate the warehouse’s silent alarm. He needed to get his ass out of here. Yet…how had these two known to come here, to this particular site? Omaney kept this place off the radar.

  Unfortunately, nothing about the masked pair seemed familiar. Running out of time. He willed them to reveal some important detail as to their identity before he was forced to flee. Westlake Enterprises couldn’t afford to be linked to this break-in, or they’d blow their case.

  As if hearing his plea, the man behind the computer did something fairly strange and decidedly stupid. He removed a black glove and placed his hand directly over the keyboard, lightly stroking the keys with his fingertips.

  A chill bristled Hunter’s spine, even as he scented the faint trace of extrasensory miasma—a cloying aroma Hunter associated with anything remotely psychic in nature. Holy shit. Jurek needs to know about this, pronto.

  The man placed his hand back in the glove, pulled out and pocketed the memory stick, and turned off the computer. His accomplice tossed him a spray bottle and rag and waited while he wiped the keyboard clean of prints.

  Saying nothing, they moved together out the office door. Hunter remained still, watching with great curiosity as they backtracked their way to the exit. They paused while the large man listened at the top of the stairs. He nodded and exite
d, swallowed by the darkness.

  Who the hell were they? More importantly, who were they working for? Hunter needed to get J.D.’s ass out here right away to look at that computer.

  He waited for the woman to follow her partner and took a second shock to his system. She turned and looked right at him. Even in the dim light, Hunter could see her gray-green irises. With grudging respect, he studied those eyes that slowly examined his form hidden in the shadows.

  When he remained unmoving, the woman disappeared into the darkness. He allowed her a small lead before he followed, his curiosity growing in leaps and bounds while he burned to know the woman’s identity. But, when he reached the ground level, he found the exit door stuck in place. Swearing under his breath, he wrestled with it until the frame cracked and the door swung open.

  He pushed through and swept the perimeter. To his immense frustration, they had vanished.

  * * *

  To Hunt a Sainte

  A Major Attraction Excerpt

  Good to Go

  “Come on, Olivia. I think you and I could be great roommates.” He couldn’t help the innuendo that laced his tone, too much in lust to control his tongue.

  To his surprise and pleasure, she laughed at him. “Convince me, Romeo. What’s so great about a man, and a Marine at that, as a roommate?”

  “I’m neat, I cook, and I don’t snore.”

  She chuckled, and he continued on a more serious note.

  “I’ll respect your privacy, and you’ll be safe here. Trust me, no one will mess with you while I’m around.” The thought of anyone harming Olivia made him see red.

  “I really wasn’t looking forward to moving,” she said slowly. “It’s very nice of you to offer to let me ride out the lease. I’d like to stay.” She paused and blushed a deeper pink. “But about last night. That kind of thing can’t happen again.”