Going In Blind_Brotherhood Protectors World

by Kris Norris

  “Yes, ma’am. And I’m lucky enough to have snagged these guys before someone else got them. I’ve got a hell of a crew. Now, I understand someone tried to kill you. Twice.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Kent seems to think so, but… It was likely just an attempted burglary, and lots of people were threatened at the auction.”

  A disgruntled huff sounded beside her. “I found three well-placed charges of C4 inside your house. The kind that would have made it look like your gas line exploded if you’d set them off. How many thieves do that? And let’s not forget that bastard at the auction said you were the one. Those aren’t random acts of violence, sweetheart.”

  She shivered at the endearment. God, the way it flowed off his tongue. The gravelly tones and deep, raspy voice. She had to work to appear unaffected. Not to turn and step against him. Finally take his mouth in hers. A few words, and she wanted him more than she had before.

  She twisted to face him. “I get that it’s odd, really odd, but… Why would someone be targeting me? I’ve pretty much been a recluse since the raid. I’m not involved in any new cases. And it’s not like I saw anything I shouldn’t have at the auction.”

  Russel cupped her elbow. “I’ve come to trust Rigs’ intuition. It’s saved my ass more than once. So, based on that, I called around. Thought it might help to get more information on the men behind the attack at the foundation. Turns out they were all members of the same gang. They call themselves the Raptors. Have you heard of them?”

  Pain shot through her head, making her stumble sideways. Strong hands grabbed her waist, tugging her against a wall of muscle.

  Kent’s scent surrounded her, his lips gently caressing her ear. “Easy, Addy. I’ve got you.”

  She nodded, massaging her forehead as she leaned against Kent’s torso. Awkward or not, she needed the support. “Sorry. I guess I lost my balance for a moment. What was the question?”

  Russel sighed. “Thinking it’d be best if you sat down, first.”

  Kent maneuvered her over to the table, pulling out a chair then easing her into it. She heard him settle in beside her, one large hand resting on her thigh.

  The table rocked as the men took their places, then silence until Russel cleared his throat. “I asked if you’d heard of the Raptors?”

  Another pulse of pain followed by echoed pops of gunfire that slowly faded into the sound of her pulse strumming through her veins. She winced but managed to stay upright, this time. “They were the gang we raided on my last night with the unit. We suspected Stevens was using them to move his drugs across state lines, but we needed more evidence if we wanted to get a conviction. That’s why we were there. We’d gotten a tip that a large shipment of cocaine was being delivered. It was the kind of bust that would have taken Stevens’ empire down.”

  “But something went wrong?”

  She palmed her head at the flash of white light. “They knew we were coming. They were waiting, and by the time we realized it was an ambush, it was too late… Damn.”

  “Addison? Are you okay?”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. It’s nothing.”

  Kent shifted closer. “Let’s go back to the auction. Did you recognize the guy’s voice?”

  She shook her head, waiting until the pain faded. “I don’t think so. Nothing sprang to mind. But he only said those few words.”

  “That’s okay. You’re doing great.” Russel, again. “Does the name Joseph Wilson mean anything?”

  She turned toward Russel’s voice. “Joe? Sure. He was part of the DEA crew assigned to the case. Along with the two I introduced to Kent, and his partner, Grace Sanchez. She was killed that night, too. Which was ironic since she and Will had been dating. It hadn’t been that long, but they seemed to be wildly in love with each other. I guess in some sad way it was a blessing—that neither of them had to grieve the loss. But Joe made it out. From what I heard, he’d opted for early retirement. Why?”

  “He was the only person killed at the auction.”

  “What?” She pushed to her feet, tripping against Kent when her balance shifted.

  Kent moved in closer. “Easy.”

  “What do you mean he’s dead? And why was he at the charity auction? He’d moved to Portland.”

  Russel took her hand. “His wife said he’d gotten a personal invitation. Something about repaying a debt. She wasn’t exactly sure. But I find it odd that the only other person targeted during the robbery at the foundation was another member of your squad. One of the other survivors.”

  Addison tried to back up, grunting when Kent simply held her tight. “This doesn’t make any sense. I don’t even remember what happened that night. Only what I’ve been told. My last tangible memory is hours before the raid when we met to discuss the logistics one last time. After that, it’s nothing but darkness.”

  “But that’s changing, isn’t it?”

  More pain. More lights. More ghosted images and echoed sounds, until she found herself in Kent’s lap, her side braced against his chest.

  “Breathe, Addison.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder, suddenly tired. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  She felt the air swirl and suspected Russel had knelt in front of her.

  He took one of her hands in his. “The flashes. The flashbacks. Not only are you slowly regaining your sight, you’re remembering what happened. How your partner died. Maybe how that other agent died.”

  Stay with me… Kill her, too… The whole place is gonna blow…

  She palmed her ears, trying to shut out the sounds. Stop the flow of images into her head. Will above her, his head jerking back. Dark eyes with a hint of a smile. The glint of a gun.

  “Addison.”

  She curled into Kent, using the steady rise and fall of his chest to calm her frantic breath. To pull her back from the edge. She blinked, and the room burst into view. Russel kneeling in front of her, one hand on her wrist. Taking her pulse. Two men standing behind him, mouths drawn into a thin line. A half empty coffee pot gleamed on the counter, the clock above the oven slowly ticking over.

  Then, it was gone.

  She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, then opened them.

  Nothing.

  Russel palmed her forehead. “Addison? Are you still with us, honey?”

  She nodded, leaning against Kent. “I…”

  Russel patted her hand. “It’s okay. We’ll talk more later. But I think Rigs is right. Someone doesn’t want you to remember that raid, and they’re willing to go to some pretty extreme lengths to silence you. Permanently.”

  “I’ll talk to Bridgette.” It was Sam. “She still has connections at the US Attorney’s office. Maybe she can dig up more on what happened that night. Get some names for us to check out.”

  “And I’ll call my contact at the DEA.” Hank, this time. “Get more information on Joe Wilson and these other agents. See if we can narrow down the list.”

  She sighed. “This is crazy. No one knew about these flashes until after the attack. Why would they target me when I’m not a threat?”

  “Maybe they were hedging their bet. Tying up loose ends before your memory returned, and you could implicate them in some form of criminal activity. Or maybe something else has changed—new evidence that could trigger your memory. Either way, we’re on it. Ice?”

  “Yeah, Montana?”

  “You ever work with a guy called Cannon?”

  “Rick Sloan? Hell yeah. Guy’s Delta Force. Hard core infiltration. Been deep underground for some time. He was recruited from your Ranger squad, wasn’t he Sam?”

  Sam snorted. “We worked a few joint ops both before and after he transferred. The guy’s about as extreme as they come. Definitely someone you want on your side. But I haven’t seen or heard from him in a couple of years. Why?”

  “Rumor has it he’s in town on mandated rest. I realize he’s still enlisted, but… The C4 element has me concerned. We could definitely us
e his resources. If he’s willing to help us out.”

  Russel laughed. “Bastard’s in town and didn’t call one of us? That’s grounds for an ass kicking. And he’ll be willing. He owes me a few. Sounds like the perfect time to collect.”

  “Excellent. Why don’t we meet back here tonight? Rigs? You secure this place to your satisfaction?”

  Kent huffed. “That’s the second time someone’s questioned my skill set. Are you all trying to tell me something?”

  Hank chuckled. “God, you’re an ornery son of a bitch. Fine. You’re got the place wired. I just wanted to make sure you were okay on your own for a while.”

  “Anyone so much as thinks too hard next to the property line, and I’ll know about it.”

  Addison tensed. God, what had he done? And did she really want to know?

  Kent gave her a light squeeze. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I mostly wired the place for light and sound. Even though you’re bordered by larger estates, and the chance of anyone undeserving getting injured by some small charges is remote, I’m not completely crazy. No one’s going to get hurt if they trip one of my precautions.”

  She gave him a guarded smile. “I have an alarm system. Wasn’t that good enough?”

  “Please. Took me all of thirty seconds to bypass that pile of junk. No one’s getting past it, now, though.” He grunted, lifting her up then easing her back on the chair. “I’ll go double check. Make a few rounds of the area. We’re not getting surprised, again.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but she sensed he’d already left the room.

  Hank cleared his throat. “I see Rigs’ social graces haven’t improved any. Damn lucky the man’s brilliant when it comes to security. That, and I don’t ever want to get on his bad side.” He gave Addy’s shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Catch whoever’s behind it. You’re part of the family, and we’re not letting a fellow warrior down.”

  Family. Except for the part where Kent couldn’t stand to let her touch him. Where he’d bolted at the suggestion of something more between them. Something physical. Scars or not, she still wasn’t convinced he had feelings for her.

  But she nodded her thanks, shaking Sam’s hand, again, before the two men left, leaving another void in the room. Only Russel remained behind, the telltale creak of the chair suggesting he’d taken a seat next to her.

  She nudged him with her knee. “You don’t have to babysit me. I know I haven’t exactly been a star client, but I’m fine, now.”

  “Good, because I hadn’t planned on babysitting anyone. Least of all a kickass detective.”

  “So you’re a buffer, then. Between me and Kent.” She waved her hand at his rough exhalation. “It’s okay. I just think you haven’t considered the possibility that he isn’t interested. That I’m the one with too many issues.”

  The air swirled, then he was taking her hand. Giving it a squeeze. “Let me tell you something about Rigs. In the ten years I’ve known him, he’s never once given a woman a second look. Long before the scars were even an issue. Sex, sure. But it never went further than that. After the incident…” He sighed. “He only went to the auction because of Bridgette. Because she’s Sam’s fiancée. Brotherhood and all that. Yet, he told me he was planning on asking you out. Braving a café just to spend more time with you. It might not seem like much, but for him… He’s right. Telling you was a dick move, but I love the man like a brother. And if there’s even a fraction of a chance you have feelings for him…”

  She smiled then stood, motioning toward the doorway. “I think I’ll go outside. Get some fresh air.”

  “I was just about to head out for a bit. Grab some food for everyone. If you’ll be okay here with just Rigs?”

  “I think I can manage.” She took a few steps then stopped and glanced back at where she hoped Russel was still standing. “And thanks.”

  “He’s worth the risk. In case you were wondering.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She headed for the patio door, vaguely aware of her front door closing. Of Russel’s truck turning over then the growl of the engine fading. All her senses were focused on Kent. On feeling his presence. Finding him amidst the darkness.

  The back door creaked as she shoved it open, stepping out onto the deck. She felt the sunshine on her face, the light breeze lift her hair. A soft inhale pinpointed his location, and she slowly made her way over, stopping a few feet away. She didn’t face him, electing to stare blankly forward as she leaned against the railing. This wasn’t going to be easy for her, and she needed the slight disconnect to get through it. Bare a part of her she’d locked away.

  Kent didn’t speak, but she sensed him moving closer. Within reach should she need him. And just like that, her doubts faded. Vanished like her memories of the raid had.

  “Growing up, I always knew I wanted to be a detective. My grandfather was a cop. My dad. I guess it was in my blood. I still remember the day I joined the academy. Having two girls, I don’t think my father really believed I’d continue the legacy. My graduation ceremony was one of only two times I ever saw him cry.

  “But my sister Gwen…” She smiled at the memory. “She never followed convention. I swear she did everything she could to get a rise out of my father. You can imagine his reaction when she signed up for the fire academy. I assure you…the rivalry between cops and fire fighters is very much alive.”

  She paused to swallow, to tilt her head when Kent stepped closer, his arm brushing hers. “Four years ago, her crew responded to an apartment fire. I’ve never seen flames that intense. You could feel the heat two blocks away. Yet, she and her teammates never stopped going inside. Bringing people out. I’d rather face a gang of armed drug dealers than a wall of flames. But she never blinked. Never stopped to consider her own safety.

  “On their last run, part of the ceiling collapsed. Trapped Gwen and three other men. I’ve never witnessed a group of warriors try harder to rescue their own. They worked for hours to dig them out. But, by then…”

  She sighed, sniffing back the thick feeling in her throat. “All of them sustained burns. Gwen had them on her face, chest, shoulders and back. She received excellent care. But even after multiple surgeries, the doctors couldn’t get rid of all the scars. Couldn’t erase what that night had done to her.”

  Addison glanced toward Kent, wishing she could see his face. Judge his reaction. “I tried to help, but… How do you build someone back up, again, when they can’t stand to look at their own reflection? When they can’t walk into a room without being reminded of everything they lost? On the one-year anniversary of the fire, she took her own life. Left a note saying she couldn’t live with the stares. The comments. The isolation she felt. And while a part of me understood, another was angry. Is still angry that she couldn’t see herself the way I did. Because beneath the marks, she was still my little sister. Still the woman I would have died to protect. For me, nothing had changed.”

  She took a few steps back. “I won’t say I understand how you feel. What you must face on a daily basis. But I’m sincere when I say that I’d give anything to see my sister’s scars just one more time.”

  She turned then headed for the door, stopping at the entrance. She tilted her head back toward him, offering him a guarded smile. “And for the record… I’ve already seen yours. Well, glimpses, anyway. But I was too busy losing myself in the blue of your eyes to notice. Because scars or not, you’re breathtaking.”

  A grunt sounded off to her right, then he was there, fingers sliding through her hair, his body pressing against hers. He backed her against the wall, his mouth crushing down on hers. He didn’t wait for her to open her lips, just gave them a twist then delved inside. His tongue tangled with hers, his lips lifting—repositioning—then returning. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, Kent eating at her mouth, giving her just enough time to gulp in air, before he finally eased back. One hand speared through her hair, the other wrapped around the small o
f her back.

  His forehead rested on hers, his breath loud and raspy against her cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that since I bumped into you in the garden. I just didn’t know how.”

  “I’m glad you figured it out. Your technique is flawless.”

  “About the scars…”

  “I don’t have to touch you there if it bothers you. But for what it’s worth, it’s the man beneath that has my attention. And I don’t see that changing.”

  “God, Addison.” He kissed her, again. Slowly, as if she would break if he moved too fast. Pressed too hard. “If you don’t want this to go any further…”

  “How many times do I have to throw myself at you before you finally get the hint?”

  “I just want you to be sure, because once I start…”

  She nipped at his lip, thankful when she didn’t miss. “Then, why are we still standing here?”

  “Just trying to gather enough control to make it all the way to your bed.”

  She brushed her mouth along his jaw as she made her way to his ear, licking the shell then smiling at his harsh inhalation. “Screw your control. Beds are overrated.”

  Chapter 13

  Kent fisted his hand against the brick, hoping the scratch of pain would temper his need enough to pick up Addison and carry her inside. Because the way he felt, stripping them both enough to lift her and thrust inside seemed like the only feasible scenario. The only way he could move without exploding.

  Addison moaned, nipping her way along his jaw, licking at his lips. “Kent.”

  He pressed her against the wall, trapping her. “I’m trying very hard not to take you against the side of the house. Saying my name like that…”

  She laughed, and his fucking dick surged forward, taking him within a breath of his release. If he hadn’t been able to squeeze every muscle—clamp down on the blast of fire through his shaft—he’d have come in his pants.

  Addison kissed his jaw—right over the scar as if it wasn’t there. As if she couldn’t feel it. “Then, I’ll say it, again. Kent.”

  “Our first time is not going to be me rutting with you in your backyard.”