Love and War: A Bad Boy Romance (Small Town Bad Boys Book 2)

by Annette Fields

  "Well, you heard the man," Dad said to his investigator and the surrounding SWAT team officers. "Let's move out to that warehouse and go with the plan we set in place."

  I sprang to my feet, not willing to waste another second being idle while Hazel suffered.

  "Come with me," I said to Sol with a tap on his shoulder. "We'll get you set up."

  Where I was taking him went solidly against normal protocol, but I figured we already stepped way over that line. Might as well keep going.

  He let out a long, low whistle as I unlocked and opened the doors to the armory. Fluorescent lights illuminated the dark-painted room lined from floor to ceiling with every gun, grenade, baton, knife, and ammo you could imagine.

  "Niiiiiice," Sol said with an approving grin. "Police level shit. None of this ghetto gangster crap."

  Our plan was Sol would be the distraction at the front of the warehouse while Dad, the SWAT team, and I snuck in the back to hopefully find and rescue Hazel before Noriega knew what hit them.

  "Here, this light vest should fit you," I said, tossing it to him. Technically it was stab-proof, not bulletproof but I shot at those vests before. They could definitely take hits and be nearly undetectable under clothing.

  "Aw, come on. Why not a big gun?" Sol whined as I handed him a small handgun meant for concealed carry.

  "You're supposed to appear unarmed," I reminded him. "It's .40 caliber, quit your bitching."

  For myself, I shrugged on a fully bulletproof vest and inserted two 9mm Glocks into my holsters. I loaded up several magazines with extra ammo and also strapped a couple of knives to my legs.

  I had a feeling Hazel would be heavily guarded and wanted to be prepared if I had to mow down several Noriega fuckers before I reached her.

  "I think we're set," I said, nodding at Sol. "Let's move out."

  ***

  Sol took a single car by himself out on the freeway, where Noriega soldiers were likely to be posted as scouts looking for me, and would drive up to the front door of the warehouse like they expected.

  To sneak in the back, our team wanted to avoid detection as best we could, so we took Jeeps off-road and drove a long, meandering way that would eventually lead us to a hill behind the warehouse.

  My whole body pumped with adrenaline as the jeeps finally slowed to a stop and the engines died. We all climbed out as silently as cats. Every person on this team had been trained in this kind of situation before and was highly skilled. We were going in with the best of the best.

  As we came from around the hill, I could see the warehouse a few hundred yards in the distance like a tiny play structure. From the angle we approached we had a perfect view of Sol's car coming off the freeway and driving up to the front of the warehouse.

  Perfect timing so far.

  I led everyone in a tight formation through the almond orchard that came right up to the back of the warehouse. As we got closer, I could see two soldiers posted, guarding the rear door but that was nothing. The trees gave us excellent cover as we stalked closer and closer to our prey.

  Getting inside would be easy. We just had to count on Sol to keep them distracted up front.

  The two targets were well within shooting range by the time they noticed any movement in the orchard. I raised both guns, each barrel extended by a silencer and squeezed off two shots.

  Like sacks of potatoes, the two men crumpled to the ground. I quickly switched out my magazines from the rubber bullets to the real ones. Those guys would live but would wake up in jail cells with one hell of a headache.

  As two of my SWAT officers quickly handcuffed and gagged the two unconscious Noriega soldiers, the rest of them got into formation to bring down the doors.

  I held up a closed fist, signaling to wait as I listened. Voices floated around from the front side of the warehouse. I could hear Sol laughing and saying things I couldn't make out. No doubt being charming and capturing their full attention up front.

  I signaled forward and my men pointed their guns straight at the door. Carefully, I aimed my pistol at the lock and fired.

  Everyone knew their position and we moved fast and fluidly, flinging the doors open and pouring in like a swarm of ants to take the enemy by surprise.

  Panicked yells in both Spanish and English erupted in the wide open warehouse. My men subdued them quickly enough with rubber bullets and sheer organization and skill, but the guys up front already heard the commotion.

  Through the open front warehouse door, Solomon had his gun barrel pressed against the forehead of a Noriega man dressed in red. The rest of my people quickly trained their guns on Sol's man and the other two soldiers who were guarding the front.

  With us in control, I finally allowed my gaze to wander around the building.

  It was mostly empty, flat and open with only several pallets of bagged almonds lining the walls. I walked around in a wide circle with my head swiveling, feeling panic rising in my chest.

  "Where is she?" I demanded aloud. No one answered.

  I grabbed the collar of the guy Sol had his gun on. He looked to be the most important. With sheer anger as my strength, I whipped him around to face me and pressed the barrel of my gun directly under his chin.

  "Where the fuck is she?" I asked again. "Tell me, or I won't hesitate to pull this trigger and paint the fucking ceiling with your brain matter."

  "D-d-down," was all he could muster, along with a sideways shift in his eyes.

  I followed his gaze to a flat panel of wood on the floor with a rope handle attached to it. When I looked back at the man whose life was in my hands, he was sweating and trembling.

  I let him go and went to investigate what appeared to be a makeshift basement door. When I lifted up the rope handle, sure enough, a set of stairs went down.

  "How many men are guarding her down there?" I asked the Noriega.

  "Ten," he replied almost proudly.

  I clenched my jaw. Shit. One for each of us and they likely already heard us coming. They'd be ready and waiting for us to come down the stairs like a bottleneck and pick us off one by one.

  And we couldn't go in guns blazing and risk shooting Hazel.

  I signaled for my team to gather around me and ordered quietly, "Let's go around the perimeter and find the other basement entrance. Use lethal rounds but do not shoot unless you have a clear target away from the victim."

  "There is no other way into the basement, pig," spat the Noriega.

  Sol and I exchanged glances and both laughed in unison.

  "You Noriega are terrible liars," I replied.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  LIAM

  We found the outside door to the basement easily enough--hidden behind tall grass and stacks of wooden pallets.

  So far, Sol was dead-on about them having more ego than brains.

  My team carefully pulled the pallets away from the door, trying to make as little noise as possible at my insistence so that we still had the element of surprise.

  Even though all ten of us got the door open in under a minute, my stomach roiled with panic as the seconds ticked by. For all I knew, we were already too late to save Hazel.

  I led us silently down the dark staircase into the basement. We didn't dare use any lights to alert the enemy but I could make out a dim light at the bottom and stopped right before it could illuminate my heavy combat boots.

  This was it. It was now or never. I would save my woman or die trying.

  "Going in. Cover me," I whispered to my comrades and not a full second later, stepped out into the light.

  I raised my pistols in each hand and quickly scanned the room as the others fanned out to both sides behind me.

  Ten Noriega soldiers had their guns trained on the opposite staircase with their backs turned to us. We couldn't have been luckier. They really expected all of us to come down the inside stairs and would have immediately filled us with bullet holes.

  But they heard our footsteps and were beginning to turn around.

&nb
sp; "Open fire!" I roared.

  We shot first and got a couple of good hits. A couple of Noriega soldiers went down fast but those standing quickly returned fire.

  I bit down hard on my tongue as my torso stung with the hits I took to my vest. Bullets zipped past my ears and the noise in this small room was already deafening. It was chaos, absolute madness.

  "Liam, you're gonna get hit! Fall back for cover!" someone yelled, probably my dad. With my ears ringing from the cacophony of gunshots echoing in the small, concrete room, he sounded so far away.

  But I couldn't fall back. I had to fight. I had to find her.

  My eyes darted wildly as I searched for her while also trying to shoot accurately.

  More yelling which sounded like it was from my side, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off the targets in front of me. Looking back was basically asking for a bullet to the head.

  One of the Noriegas caught my eye. His movement was different.

  He was behind the line of soldiers firing and seemed to be dragging something heavy across the floor. It looked like a chair.

  And in that chair was a girl with long, dark hair. Her eyes were closed, a dark puffy bruise formed on her cheek, and she looked terribly pale.

  "No! Hazel!" I cried.

  "Liam, stop!" someone yelled.

  The next thing I knew, I was sprinting. My legs propelled forward, carrying me to her-- across the room right into the line of gunfire.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  LIAM

  In an instant, all rational thought and all my years of training went straight out the window. My body ran on pure instinct to save, to protect.

  And then to kill.

  It must've been surprising to see a target you've been shooting at running straight toward you rather than away. That element of surprise had to be the only reason they didn’t mow me down when I started running.

  I reached the dumbfounded Noriegas and started shooting motherfuckers in the head at point-blank range. Unfortunately, that also meant they were close enough to shoot me.

  The pain tore through my leg like an animal had taken a bite out of me. I fell to my knees and realized I couldn’t stand up. I was forced to brace myself with my hands on the floor but if I did that, then I couldn’t shoot.

  Nothing made sense. My ears rang and everything sounded fuzzy. The whole world was noise, chaos, blood and pain. Hazel was my only focus, the only reasons I somehow still clung to life.

  Another volcano of pain erupted at my left shoulder and my gun clattered across the ground, my arm rendered useless. There seemed to be fewer enemies around me but I couldn't be sure. I was so tired and the cool, cement floor felt so comforting underneath me.

  No… Hazel. Where is Hazel?

  I looked up with blurry, darkening vision to see a man starting up the stairs, trying to drag the chair with Hazel still tied with him. Her mane of dark hair covered her face as her head hung limply forward.

  I raised my right arm, somehow still holding my other gun and fired off a shot that I could barely see.

  The man tumbled to the ground while Hazel's chair rocked precariously but remained standing on all 4 legs.

  With the little strength I had left, I dragged myself across the floor to her. I reached for one of my knives strapped to my legs and my hand came away covered in blood.

  My consciousness was dangerously close to fading away as I used the chair to pull myself up. I sawed at her rope binds with the knife, trying to be careful not to cut her but my hand was so heavy. I couldn’t control it anymore. At some point my hand was empty. I must have dropped it.

  Her beautiful face was the only thing I could see clearly through my fading vision.

  Please God, please, I begged silently. If you're up there at all, please spare her.

  With a trembling, bloody hand I pressed two fingers to the vein on her neck.

  When I felt the faint pulse beneath her skin, I smiled with relief and slipped into the awaiting blackness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  HAZEL

  I awoke to a soft beeping noise and blinding light stabbing through my eyelids like knives.

  My mind raced, accelerating my heart rate and the beeping sound as I squeezed my eyes shut. How long had it been since I saw anything but pure darkness?

  Slowly I relaxed my eyelids and allowed the light to creep in. Florescent lights shined down from directly above me and made a soft humming noise. Only then did I realize I was lying down.

  "Ahh," I groaned as I tried moving my head from one side to the other. My neck felt terribly stiff and sore. As I slowly became aware of the rest of my body, the pain throughout my limbs permeated through everything.

  I looked down and saw multicolored bruises and rope burns all along my arms. A needle with a tube was inserted into my right arm and was hooked up to an IV bag next to my bed.

  My body was covered with a blanket up to my chest over the flimsy hospital gown but I could only imagine what my legs and the rest of my body looked like.

  The machine beeped even faster as my recent memories formed. Or were they nightmares?

  Darkness for hours, if not days. Hands grabbing me, hitting me. Tied to a chair and being more thirsty than I ever felt in my life. It hurt so badly. Was it real?

  "She's awake! Hazel!"

  My head snapped to the side as I wondered for a split second if I'd be able to run.

  But relief flooded through me as my eyes fell upon Dahlia and Ash rushing to my bedside with tears in their eyes.

  "Guys," I choked before my own tears came rushing out. I never thought I'd see them again, my beloved family.

  Dahlia squeezed my hand as she kept the other one against her belly. My heart swelled with gratitude knowing I would be able to meet my baby niece or nephew after all.

  "I can't believe you made it out of there," Ash sighed. "It's all over the news."

  "What is?" I croaked, my voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. "What happened?"

  They exchanged glances nervously while Dahlia ran a protective hand over her belly.

  "Guys tell me," I pleaded. "What happened? Where's Liam?"

  My brother and sister-in-law both looked back at me with dumbfounded, shocked expressions.

  "How did you know he was there?" Ash asked. "They said you were unconscious the whole time."

  I wasn't sure what caused me to say it. On the surface, I didn't know. I had no idea. I couldn't even see anything during the whole time I'd been captured.

  But somehow, instinctively, I knew. Deep down I knew he would come for me. And the lack of answers scared me more than anything.

  "Seriously, you have to tell me," I said, my voice getting stronger and more confident. "I'm going to see it on the news anyway so don't hold back."

  Ash bit his lip and pulled Dahlia close before he spoke.

  "There was a shootout between police and a gang at a warehouse just outside of town. Several police officers were injured. At least five gang members died."

  "The FBI is getting involved," Dahlia added. "It's the most violence this place has seen in nearly a century."

  My stomach churned. Violence and death in the quiet little town of Cloverville. And I was somehow in the middle of it along with the man I loved, who I didn't even know was dead or alive.

  I moved to sit up in bed but they both reacted quickly, shoving my shoulders back down.

  "You need to rest," Dahlia said. "You were severely dehydrated and your muscles need to recover."

  "I need to see Liam," I insisted, sitting back up again. "I need to know if he's okay."

  "Stop, Haze. Take it easy," Ash growled as they both shoved me back down again.

  Finally I relented, collapsing back onto the thin, hospital pillow. Just trying to sit up already zapped all my energy.

  "I can't just lay here and do nothing," I cried.

  "That's exactly what you need to be doing," Dahlia said in what I imagined was her best mom voice. She sat on the edge of my bed
and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Liam is tough as nails. I'm sure he's fine. We'll find everything out soon, regardless."

  I looked all around me until I finally spotted what would hopefully give me the answers I needed-- the nurse call button.

  I pressed it rapidly even after the light came on until a middle-aged woman in purple scrubs and a stethoscope around her neck entered my room. Her nametag said Caroline.

  "I see we're awake," Caroline said cheerily. "How are you feeling Miss Forsyth?"

  "Liam Barnes," I said, not bothering with introductions or politeness. "Is he a patient here? I need to know if he's okay."

  "I'm not familiar with that name, Miss--"

  "He was one of the officers in the shootout," I said rapidly, moving to sit up again. "He was one of the ones who came to save me."

  "Miss Forsyth, you really should focus on resting--"

  "Tell me!" I screamed, gripping the flimsy sheets in my fists.

  The soft murmur of voices out in the hallway stopped after I screamed. I didn't want to be a bitch but I was so damn frustrated on top of being in pain and worried.

  My face scrunched up as I began to cry, my eyes pleading with the stone-faced nurse who didn't look like she had an ounce of sympathy for me.

  "Miss Forsyth, he's not one of my patients so I honestly am unaware of his condition. But even if I were, I cannot tell you due to doctor-patient confidentiality. Are you a family member?"

  I lowered my head and shook it slowly, defeatedly.

  "Then I'm afraid I cannot help you, aside from monitoring your own condition."

  I said nothing more, refusing to look at her as she came to my bedside to check my IV and vitals.

  When she left, Ash let out a dry chuckle which Dahlia promptly smacked him for.

  "I'm glad you think this is funny," I snarled at him. It killed me not knowing if Liam was alive or dead or somewhere in between.

  "I just didn't expect you to be that kind of patient," he shot back. "The kind every nurse hates. She's just doing her job, Haze."