Sacrifice Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

by Maryann Jordan

  “I don’t see how he could be your intimate friend, as you say, when he had a wife,” Dani said, her voice finally beginning to strain.

  “Well, I guess having a wife didn’t matter to Adam when he was fucking me,” the harsh reply came. The blonde looked around, recognizing some of Adam’s team members. “Y’all know me,” she sneered. “You’ve seen me with him and none of you fuckers let me know he was dead. I had to find out from the news.”

  Dani turned slowly, piercing the crowd with her pain-laced gaze. “Did you? Did you know about her?”

  Some of the men looked down at their feet or suddenly found the ceiling to be of utmost interest. Then her eyes came to Chad’s and he could not look away. She walked over slowly until she stood directly in front of him, his height causing her head to lean way back as she kept her eyes pinned to his.

  “You knew?” she asked, her voice as soft as a whisper.

  “I did not know about her,” Chad answered honestly.

  “No, you couldn’t, could you. I wondered why you became a long-distance friend over the past year, Chad. So tell me…did you know about others?”

  He felt choked, as though someone had grabbed his tie and pulled it tight. What the fuck do I say? Yes, I knew your husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants whenever he went out? Once more, Chad froze, unable to answer her.

  “And I thought you were my friend as well,” she said, blinking back tears.

  Dani turned a slow circle, staring at the people gathered. “So you all knew?” She drew herself up to her full height, which at five foot five inches was not significant, and yet her regal bearing bespoke of dignity. “Well, fu—,” she stopped, her face full of agony as her body shook, swallowing deeply. “I’ll leave you to mourn with his…” she looked over at the blonde, whose drunken, lipstick-smeared mouth smirked, and said, “his latest piece of fun.”

  With that, Dani walked stiff-backed toward the door. Several of her girlfriends immediately hustled to follow her, but with her hand in their faces, they stopped. Others tried to call out to her in support while others attempted to get the blonde to leave. None of their efforts worked. Dani left and the mourners soon followed, Adam’s wake officially ended.

  Chapter 2

  Chad lay on the hotel bed, still wearing the now wrinkled clothes from yesterday. He had come from the wake, driven to his hotel and immediately thrown himself down on the bed after kicking off his shoes. His mind whirling, he slept little. He thought of Adam. He thought of Dani. He thought of missed chances. And finally, his mind stayed on his regrets.

  The dawn was still an hour away when he got up and walked over to the window. The high-rise hotel offered a view of Washington D.C. in the distance, the slight morning fog blanketing the city. Leaning his forehead on the cold pane of glass, he remembered the first time he met Adam.

  At the introductory training the ATF required everyone to go through, regardless of their knowledge and background, Adam was one of the instructors. He had picked me out as a weak link because of my size. At six feet five inches, I towered over most of the others in the room. It didn’t take them long to realize that as a former Green Beret with weapons and detonation experience, I was the man to watch out for.

  Adam, ever the jokester, added extra weight in the Advanced Bomb Suit given to me. The other new employees in the training assisted me into the suit and I felt the difference immediately, having worn an ABS in the Army. Glancing up at Adam, I knew what he was up to. Without missing a beat, I performed the physical training of jogging up and down stairs with a better time than anyone else.

  “Fuck me, big guy,” Adam said, his shit-eatin’ grin plastered on his face.

  Taking off the helmet, sweat pouring off my face, I grinned right back. “Just a walk in the park, asshole.”

  The two of us bonded over that introduction and Adam made sure I was assigned to his team with the Washington, D.C. field office. It didn’t take long for our team to become the one others aspired to be with.

  The sun was now rising over the tops of the distant buildings. Moving away from the window, Chad walked to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror did nothing to still his unsettling thoughts. His dark hair was trimmed neatly, but his five o’clock shadow was now a six o’clock in the morning beard. His eyes latched onto the medallion hanging around his neck. A St. Chad medallion. A saint known for self-sacrifice.

  He bought the pendant after the funeral of one of his Army ordnance disposal buddies who had been killed. The priest officiating the service told him of Saint Chad; saying it was such an unusual name, he wondered if Chad was familiar with its meaning. Wearing the medallion helped him remember death could come to any of them at any time on the job. The old truck he drove belonged to his buddy, given to him by his grieving mother. It was a jalopy, but Chad kept it running.

  Grimacing, he reached up grabbing the pendant in his large fist, wanting to jerk it off. Self-sacrifice…yeah, right. More like, selfish bastard! He stilled his hand, unwilling to dispose of the medallion that had come to be a part of him. Sighing heavily, he turned from his reflection.

  Turning on the shower, he stripped from his well-worn and slept-in clothes. Standing under the hot spray of water, he let the warmth pound his muscles in an attempt to pound out his thoughts. It did not work.

  “You’ve got to be shittin’ me, man,” Adam bit out. “We’re a fuckin’ team.”

  “This is something I’ve got to do,” I explained. I’d been offered a chance to return to Afghanistan to work with some Special Forces teams in a non-combat capacity. The ATF had new robots that the Army would be using and I was going to have an opportunity to work for six months in the field, reviewing and testing the new equipment. “It’s only for six months, guys.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Adam groused. “And while you’re over there re-living your glory, Army days, I’ll be stuck here with some new-ass partner.”

  “They were hardly glory days, I’m sure,” Dani spoke softly, her voice laced with recrimination…and sadness.

  Adam and I, along with Dani, were sitting in a bar as I discussed my plans. Looking into Dani’s green, somber eyes, I added, “I’ll be back in six months and it’ll be as though I never left.” I hoped my expression conveyed to her what I really wanted to say—wait for me. I’ll be back. Then I’ll make a move and see if you and I have something special.

  But when I got back…Dani and Adam were married.

  Shaking the excess water from his head, Chad dried off and prowled to his suitcase to retrieve clean clothes. Worn jeans, a navy polo that stretched across his wide chest and was tight on his arms. Grabbing all of his belongings, he glanced around the room once more before heading out.

  Jesus, I’m a goddamn explosive expert. Not some coward. Time to man the fuck up. Exiting the elevator, he placed a call to his boss, Jack Bryant. No longer with the ATF, Chad worked for Saints Protection & Investigations, a private firm not constrained by the governmental bureaucracy. For his new co-workers, from the FBI, CIA, SEALs, Special Forces, police, and other agencies, the Saints provided a chance to work without the bullshit regulations that often tied their hands. For Chad, it gave him a place to do his job…while running away from the couple that unknowingly broke his heart.

  “Jack, I’m taking a few extra days to help Adam’s widow. We were close at one time and I’d like to assist her if I can.” Leaving the message, he counted on Jack not minding his extra days off. He sure as hell had earned them.

  Sitting in his old truck, he pulled out of the hotel’s parking garage and headed to Dani’s house. As he thought earlier, time to man the fuck up.

  *

  He had only been to Adam and Dani’s rental house once, but the GPS quickly navigated him through the early morning traffic. Forcing himself to not arrive too early, he killed some time at a local diner, but found the food sitting on his plate, his eggs congealing, as his coffee churned in his stomach.

  It was now almost nine thirty a.m. and he fig
ured it was not too early to arrive, even unexpectedly. Pulling onto their—it’s now just her—street, he caught sight of a large moving truck in one of the driveways. Approaching, he realized it was in her driveway and from the looks of things they had an early start. What the hell?

  Chad parked his vehicle in front of the neighbor’s house and began walking to the front door. Dani came out, her formal clothing of yesterday now replaced with black yoga pants and an oversized grey t-shirt. Her long hair was pulled up in a bun on top of her head, errant tendrils falling about her face. He observed as one of the moving men’s eyes followed her as she walked back inside her house and fought the urge to land his fist into the man’s face.

  He made his way around the truck, glancing into the open back as he passed. Filled with boxes, bags, and furniture odds and ends, he was certain the move was unplanned. Stalking toward the front of the house, he stopped short when Dani came back out, her arms full of a few smaller boxes.

  Her eyes landed on his, almost at eye level as she stood on the porch with him several steps below. “What are you doing here, Chad?” Her voice was laced with a mixture of surprise and irritation.

  All the congenial words he had practiced saying flew out of his mind. Jerking his head back toward the moving truck, he growled, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “With your powers of observation, I would assume you could deduce I was moving out of this house.”

  Taking a deep breath while counting to five, he put his hands up in front of him. “Come on, Dani, let’s not make a hasty decision that you’ll regret. Let’s talk about what you’re doing. Making this kind of decision when you’ve just—”

  “What Chad? Just buried my cheating, lying, husband?” Her emerald eyes flashed in anger as she continued down the steps by him.

  He reached out and stopped her with his hand on her arm, taking the boxes out of her hand. “Dani…look, I know yesterday was—”

  She interrupted him once more. “You don’t know anything, Chad. You left us a long time ago and disappeared for God knows why.” She looked into his face, battling tears of anger as well as frustration. “You walked out of our lives. You did that. You became a Saints Investigator and chose to not come around anymore, so do not pretend to care about what’s going on now. I can take care of myself. I have for a long time. And we are not having this conversation. Understand?”

  He watched her walk back inside the house before he handed the boxes to the mover who approached. The realization hit him that Adam and Dani’s marriage had not been what he assumed. She was right—he had distanced himself because the friendship was too painful to maintain once he came back to claim her, only to discover they had married.

  He followed her inside, noticing the large furniture was still in place. Sofa, end tables, and dining table. The rental house must have been furnished. He recognized Adam’s old recliner sitting in the corner and wondered if it was going to stay. Who the fuck am I kidding? No way’s she taking anything of his right now.

  Chad heard banging in a back room, the sound of slamming doors echoing through the small house. Sighing, he sat on the sofa, putting his head in his hands for a moment. The morning was not going the way he planned at all. He arrived, expecting to comfort his grieving friend, promise to help her with anything she needed to deal with and, hopefully, forge ahead in rebuilding their friendship. What greeted him was a furious woman, determined to separate herself from her deceased husband’s memory the day after he was buried. He heard footsteps coming down the hall and lifted his head as she rounded the corner.

  “You’re still here?” she asked, her calm voice belying her anger.

  “Dani, you’re right,” he began, watching her eye him carefully, waiting for a verbal misstep. “I did walk away but for reasons that were needed at the time. Now, looking back, they may not have been the best reasons. But I’m here now and I want…want…” he faltered, looking around at the room that was decimated of personality. The little mementos that make a house into a home were gone—packed away or thrown away, he was not sure. Standing to his full height, he said, “Regardless of what you think, I do care. We need to talk. You need to tell me what you’re doing. I want to help, Dani.”

  She had lifted her head as he stood, maintaining eye contact. Now she glanced toward the open front door and the movers still packing her belongings into the back. Swallowing hard several times, she stood stoically, as though any movement would cause a breakdown.

  He recognized stress…anguish…utter desolation, and stayed perfectly still so as not to disturb her thoughts. Come on, Dani. Talk to me. The silent minute stretched interminably. Just when he thought she would not speak, she turned her gaze to his. No longer anguished…but resolute.

  “You do not know what my life has been like for the past year. You left for six months, a year and a half ago, to go on a mission and while I understand your reasons for leaving, when you came back, you came to see us once and then that was it. So my marriage,” she stumbled over the word, “and my life is no longer your concern. You made that choice, Chad.”

  “This is so sudden, Dani,” he replied. “This move. How the hell did you even get it arranged so quickly?”

  Barking a rude sound, she admitted, “The guy who owns the truck is a neighbor. I helped out a few months ago when his mother had a stroke and he told me that anytime I needed assistance to give him a call. I left the wake yesterday afternoon, walked into this house, and knew I did not want to spend one more day in it. So, I gave him a call yesterday evening and he had his crew here at seven a.m.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “He’s taking everything and putting it into a storage unit outside of Richland and I’m moving back to my parents for a few weeks until I can decide what to do.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve told you more than I should have, Chad. I meant it when I said that you are not welcome here. My life and my decisions are not up for debate.”

  He stared at her for a long minute. The sun coming through the front window glistened in her hair, causing the auburn to appear more red than brown. Her eyes, greener from yesterday’s crying, were large in her pale face. Even with no makeup and her hair pulled up haphazardly, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And used to be the sweetest. What the fuck happened? He was afraid of the answer, knowing it revolved around Adam.

  He wanted to drag her over to him and demand she tell him everything. Why had she and Adam rushed a marriage? Why had she intimated her marriage was not happy? Why, even with Adam just buried, was she getting rid of everything that belonged to him? But she was right. Because of his selfish desire to protect his heart from seeing them together, he had separated himself from their friendship.

  He walked to the door before turning and piercing her with his stare. “You’re right, Dani. I fucked up big time. In more ways than you know, by not telling you what was in my heart when I went overseas. And then again, when I selfishly stayed away once I came back.” He noticed her head cocked to the side in confusion as she listened to his attempted confession. “Right now, you’re hurting and my being here only seems to make it worse. So I’ll leave.” Stepping back to her, stopping only when his large cowboy boots were right in front of her small, grey sneakers, looking down at her upturned face with the little row of freckles across her nose that made him want to nuzzle her, he said, “But this isn’t over. You need time. Time to figure out what all you’re feeling right now. But babe, I’m only a phone call away. And whether or not you like it, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  Before she could reply, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then turned and walked out of the front door.

  *

  Dani stood motionless, watching Chad walk away. Her heart pounded a staccato in her chest as she lifted one shaking hand to brush back a strand of hair falling across her face. As his retreating back moved toward his truck parked on the street, she battled the desire to run afte
r him, begging him to stay and make the fucked up situation better. Or at least more tolerable. My gentle giant. At least he used to be. But her head won the battle over her battered heart, and she remained motionless until his truck drove away.

  Her neighbor came through with another box and glanced her way. “You okay, Miss Danielle?”

  His words jolted her out of her inner war. Looking over at him guiltily, she mumbled, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Are we about finished?”

  “Yes, ma’am. This is the last box from the bedroom. My men packed things according to your instructions and we’ve labeled them accordingly. All of Adam’s personal belongings have been boxed separately. We boxed your clothes and everything in the bathroom you set aside and put them in your car, just as you said. We loaded the mattress and box springs, and the upholstered rocking chair, since you wanted to take that with you. Kitchen items are labeled as well so that once we’ve delivered everything to the storage unit you’ve directed us to, then you should be able to find things quick enough.”

  Attempting a smile, she nodded and replied, “Thank you, Mr. Tibbons.” While she gladly walked away from the mattress she had shared with Adam, the one in the guest room was hers before the marriage. She planned on using it when she found a new home. The cushy rocking chair had been in her family for three generations. Her mother had been rocked in it, as well as she. She hoped to use it some day, so it was staying with her. All the other furniture was part of their rental agreement.

  The man looked at her closely, causing her to fiddle awkwardly with her hair again. She hoped he would not say anything else, but luck was not on her side today. Hell, luck hasn’t been on my side in a long time.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Miss Danielle. Packing up the day after your husband’s funeral sounds a mite hasty to me. Are you sure you won’t regret this?”