“Fuck you, Blain! You fuckin’ killed Derrik.”
“Derrik knew the fuckin’ rules, and so did you. Appears nobody follows rules anymore. What’s the new Navy teaching y’all sons-of-bitches?” Blain yelled angrily.
I didn’t reply as I hurried behind a row of shelves. Doing so would only give away my position, making it easier for him to find me. I made it from aisle to aisle, searching for him, when I saw the laser eye of the rifle dash past my chest.
I slipped into an aisle behind a box of old wrenches. Rust hadn’t set in on a few of them as they were still shiny, glinting at me from the box. I picked one up and slid it across the floor toward the end of the aisle. A red dot rested over the smooth metal coming from the far east end of the room.
I backed out of the aisle, watching the dot dance on the metal as I slowly made my way to the other end of the warehouse, scanning all the available sniper perches the building had to offer. That’s when I saw him sprawled out on top of one of the rows of shelving, captivated by the wrench I had thrown.
I took off my boots so I wouldn’t make a sound as I snuck up on his position. Slowly I climbed the side of the shelving, holding my breath to keep the pain in my leg at bay. The noise from the club helped conceal the small labored breaths I eventually had to take.
When I reached the top of the shelving unit, I lunged for his body, startling him from his deep concentrative state. We struggled for the rifle, locked in a battle of equal strength and skill level; neither of us better or worse than the other. Still clinging to the rifle, I threw my body to one side of the platform. Unfortunately, Blain also pushed off at the same time, propelling us both off of the top shelf and sending us on a collision course with the floor.
To mitigate the damage to my body, I let go of the rifle and tried the tuck and roll method.
Thud!
My shoulder and back were not going to thank me in the morning—if I made it to the morning.
“Let’s talk about this, Mace. Just give up the girl,” Blain grunted, his face bloodied from the fall.
“Fire isn’t even alive anymore—why are you still after her?” I asked as I lunged at him.
“Principle!”
“You? Principle? Don’t make me laugh!” I said, reaching back, gathering momentum for the blow I was about to dole out.
He fell back, pressing his hand to the side of his face. “This may surprise you, Mace, but my whole world is built on it. That’s why Derrik had to go. He was sleeping with your little whore of a girlfriend. Why do you think Fire had me get rid of her? I brought Derrik to his doorstep. I owed him.”
“Ty?” I asked as I moved away from him.
“Didn’t Fire explain anything before you killed him, huh?” Blain chuckled as he wiped blood from his lips.
“Shut the fuck up, Blain. Why do you hate women so much? Who the fuck cut you so deep?” I growled, trying to hold back my attack to hear his answer.
“I got my brother killed because I was too distracted by my whore wife cheating on me,” he shouted angrily with the same sad look I had when I told Ty about Alexa. “That fuckin’ bitch distracted me, and he paid for it. Not me. Him!”
“That’s one woman, Blain. One fuckin’ woman. Not all women are like her,” I echoed Ty’s words, holding out my hands, ready to block any of his advances.
“That’s a fuckin’ lie that your bitch has been feeding you. All them whores are the same. I was trying to save you guys the heartache. Don’t you see? I did that shit for you.”
“No, you did that shit for you!” I bellowed.
“Awww, don’t be mad that Derrik already had a piece of your whore. I’m sure she’ll let you slide right in. After all, she let me,” he said, laughing.
He looked down at his rifle, then tried to dive to the floor to retrieve it.
The anger that rose inside of me from his words blinded me to any rhyme or reason. I lunged on top of his body and slipped my arm around his neck, squeezing with all my might. He clawed at my arm, trying to loosen my grip, but I wouldn’t let go. All I could think of was his body on top of Ty’s, doing the awful things he had boasted about in stories to me over a few beers. Unknowingly, I’ve probably even listened to a story about Ty once or twice.
Blain’s arms fell to his side, and his body went limp in my arms. The angry red coating left my vision as I unclasped my hands and slowly placed him on the cold, hard floor. I looked at him for a while, trying to remember the man I served with. The man I respected. I mourned that man’s death—not the corrupt pile of flesh that lay before me now.
I stood up and took a limping step toward the office to retrieve Ty when I felt a grab on my ankle. I fell face first onto the concrete, the impact jarring my brain, instantly giving me a massive headache. Dazed, I turned over onto my back and laid my hands on my forehead.
“You think you’re just gonna leave me for dead, you piece of shit?” Blain growled as he crawled on top of me and started pounding on my head.
I couldn’t do anything but lay my arms across my face, trying to block the semi-ton punches he was landing about my eyes and jaw. The savagery was wearing me out, and I could feel myself slipping. I remembered the letter opener still in my pocket, and as the onslaught of punches continued to ravage my face, I tried to grab for it. I could feel the hard steel in my pocket right as I started to choke on my own blood.
I clutched onto it tightly, pulling it from its hiding place. With all my strength, I swung my arm like a pendulum at his throat, but he grabbed my wrist, knocking it against the ground. The letter opener slid away from me toward the gun I had dropped when I fell from the shelf.
Stretching my arm out as far as I could, I wildly grabbed at the gun, but still couldn’t reach my only saving grace. Blain’s eyes shifted over to see what I was reaching for. Realizing it was a gun, he lunged for it. We both lunged for it…
Ty
It had been a long time since I heard any noise, and I started to wonder if everyone was lying dead outside of the office walls while I sat hiding in a closet. Inhaling a deep breath, I pushed the closet doors open and moved slowly to the door, careful not to make a sound.
Peering out from the door, I listened intently for any sign of movement in the massive warehouse. There was nothing at first, but then the short labored breaths of a scuffle made their way to my ears.
Mace could have needed my help, and I wasn’t going to hide out in fear while he was out there fighting because of me. I picked up a hammer lying on a shelf I had passed on my way to investigate the noise. I was ready to die tonight, as long as it was to save the only man who had ever given a damn about me.
The noise from the scuffle got louder as I neared the east side of the building. Rounding one of the shelving units, I caught sight of two shadows jostling against one another on the floor. My footsteps quickened as I tightened my grip on the handle of the hammer, ready to swing at a moment’s notice.
The two were struggling for something, but I couldn’t make out what it was.
BANG!
The sound of gunfire echoed throughout the entire building. My heart dropped when I saw one of the shadows fall onto the other. Neither moved. Neither made a sound.
“No!” I screamed, running to the scene.
EPILOGUE
A Week Later…
It was a peaceful morning. One of those mornings that let you know the world was going to try its best not to dick you around. It was a good day to have a funeral. Not a cloud in the sky.
I wiped a tear from my cheek as the limousine made its way up the long driveway to the secluded plot site I had chosen for him.
He deserved the best and I was going to give it. I owed him my life, after all. I could never take that away from him.
The limousine pulled up to a crowd of three people standing over the hand carved wooden casket. I shook my head at the fact this man’s life amounted to three people mourning his loss.
The driver opened my door. “Ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat. “I’
m sorry for your loss.”
“It seems that you are short in company with that sentiment, sir,” I replied with half a smile.
“He had you, ma’am,” the driver said as I made my way through the grass, heading for the casket.
I shouldn’t have worn heels; they make it hard to walk in the grass.
I took an open seat up front and crossed my feet underneath the metal folding chair, which creaked when I moved.
The priest walked up to the head of the casket and began to read the Bible. His words were profound, but I didn’t think they were appropriate. Not for him. After all, he lived a life like no other, and redemption was the last thing on his list of worries. I’m sure he knew there was no redemption to be found where he was going.
The sermon was over in less than five minutes, and the priest asked if anyone had any words. No one volunteered—I didn’t volunteer. I waited for everyone to leave before I stood up to lay a single red rose on the casket.
Was a red rose even appropriate for the relationship we had at the end?
I felt a tug on my wrist. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“I know. I’m just tired of loss.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll take care of you.”
I smiled, wiping a tear from my cheek. “My father would have liked this service.”
“I’m sure he would have. He was lucky to have a forgiving daughter like you.”
“I know people think that I’m crazy for having a funeral for the man that threw me away—but he was my father.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Mace whispered as he wrapped his arms around me.
Mace
Six Months Later…
There was a knock at my door. “Come in,” I said, putting my phone down as the office door opened.
“Hey, baby. I was stopping by to check in on you.” Ty sauntered in, draped in a small pink silk robe.
“I just got off the phone with the Deputy National Security Advisor to the President, and I just secured the contract to protect the President on his next trip off CONUS,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” she said as she straddled my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck, her swollen belly pushing out from the opening of her robe.
“I’m proud of us,” I corrected, pressing my palms to the soft flesh my baby boy called home.
Since BlaX broke up—well, after I killed the team—I started my own security firm. Unbeknownst to Ty, her father had never changed his will, leaving her the sole heir to his fortune. She offered the seed money to get the firm, Siren, started.
There was a certain irony to naming the firm after a band of women who lured men to their deaths, but Ty and I liked it. It reminded us of how we met, and all the shit we had to go through to be together. Without her, none of this would’ve ever come to fruition, and I would still be sitting outside of a strip club in an uncomfortable car, waiting for that asshole Eli to come and relieve me.
But Ty offered me more than just her money. She offered me her heart and a chance at a future I never thought I’d have again.
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Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank everyone who helped make this book possible:
My wonderful beta readers and friends, who are willing to read anything I throw at them:
Irma, Josan, Liz, Alma, Avril, Jeanette, Vicki, and my dad.
Charity, my all around Ass Kicker and Superhero.
About the Author
Penelope Marshall was born in the Philippines, and raised in Southern California.
She picked up writing in early 2016 and instantly fell in love with the craft. Her writing runs the romance gamut from sweet romantic comedies, to tough alpha male military suspense thrillers, with a little young adult, and paranormal thrown into the mix.
A good plot twist is what drives Penelope’s writing, striving for that jaw dropping moment at the end of each book.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/authorpenelopemarshall/
Website:
http://penelopemarshall.weebly.com/
Goodreads:
http://amazon.com/author/penelopemarshall
Depravity (The Captive Series Book 2) Page 8