THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle

by Kristina Weaver

  He was sweet and loving, and it made me want more so badly I think I would have totally cried at that point if I wasn’t so fixed on the pleasure of the moment.

  I like the man, a very un-good thought, because liking a guy and being sexually attracted and then exploded by him has me feeling things I shouldn’t.

  I had a boyfriend, sure. I tried it just as I thought I should, wanting at least one normal thing in my life, but the truth is that I wasn’t all that into it. I didn’t even really cry when he cheated on me. I was more concerned with disinfecting my sheets and mattress and making sure no one took a family heirloom—like Nana’s teeth.

  I’ve never been what you would term “normal.” I like things most other people couldn’t be bothered with, like watching Jail House Rock on the TCM channel and memorizing hip movements.

  I like being a clown because it makes people laugh. I like saying weird things and watching them try to digest what just came out of my mouth and try to figure it out without making me feel bad. That’s hilarious.

  Mostly, I just like being me, and as far as I can see, Lex isn’t going to exactly fit in here with me.

  I shove a tray of chocolate chip nut cookies in the oven and turn to the cupboard, pulling out ingredients for a soap I’ve been thinking about making for a while. This one is a lemongrass and mint mix that I think may be good for exfoliation and reviving tired skin.

  I’m so caught up in trying to get the ratios right that I don’t hear a thing around me for the next half hour as I stir my cauldron. It’s only after I’ve molded the soap, and I’m turning to grab some pre-cut rope to put in a few bars that I notice something on the tiles just a few feet behind me.

  Stepping closer, I go onto my haunches and peer down, my eyes blinking at the floor. It looks like blood drops…

  Just that fast, I feel myself go as cold as Red in the woods. I spruced the place up a little after Lex left, for once in my life nervous cleaning even though I hate it.

  The floor should be clean. It was clean just minutes ago. Rising slowly, I take a deep breath and walk to the doorway, shoring my courage before doing a quick peek around the corner and falling back.

  I don’t hear or see anything, but this could be so bad. I have the immediate need to call Lex, or run outside and get to Carl’s guys, who I know are just on the street, probably sitting in their car watching nothing happen outside my house.

  I’d have to leave the kitchen to get there though, and my phone is in my bedroom.

  Dammit, stop and think here, Rosie. This isn’t the time to start cry breathing and thinking of things that won’t help, like the fact that someone is just magically going to come inside to go look…

  At what the heck the drops of blood all down the hall actually are, I finish, shaking a little.

  If I leave the kitchen and go left, I’ll be in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. If I go right, I’ll be in the living room and then the front door. That seems so easy, but I’d have to sprint at least thirty steps to get to the door, unlock the three locks and remove the chain.

  But, as scared as I am, I’m curious too, something I know will only end in a bad way if I give in to it.

  Oh, what the hey…

  Tiptoeing back to the oven, I turn it down and bend to the cupboard, grabbing a pot and a pan as I cast quick glances at the door. The pot goes on my head, my one concession to a fashion nightmare as images of being knocked out refuse to leave me.

  The pan I grip tightly as I inch back to the door on my bare feet, the peek I throw around the corner is quick, letting me know I’m not about to walk out and straight into someone waiting there for me.

  I’m tense, shaking and breathing as if I just ran a marathon, as I slide silently into the passage and creep down, closer to the bedrooms. The small trail of what I really hope is red paint and someone’s idea of a sick joke is a thin line down the middle of the floor and leads into my bedroom.

  The door is closed when I finally reach it, my back pressed firmly to the opposite wall as I grip the pan in my right hand and reach out a trembling hand to the door.

  I never close my door, so I know now without a doubt that someone is in here and that scares me to Timbuktu—my version of hell.

  Don’t go in there.

  But I’m already gripping the doorknob and twisting because, dammit, I am not happy that someone was in my house, and while I’m terrified, I’m also angry as well.

  This is my home, my safe place, and someone has breached it! I can deal with stalking and notes and being threatened—outside of my home—but just the fact that someone came in here and encroached on a place I once felt safe makes me so mad, too.

  Breathing deeply, I twist and shove the door hard, the sound of the wood banging into the wall loud, echoing in my ears. The room is empty upon first glance, and I breathe a little easier as I creep in, keeping an eye on the closet, the very closed closet.

  I should check in there—

  And I totally would have, but it’s then that I notice the bed and realize that my red duvet isn’t just my red duvet, piled into a messy lump in the middle of the mattress.

  “Oh no.”

  I recognize the tatty gray fur, the tail that’s half bald from numerous dog and cat fights, and when I can force my eyes up, I see the sightless stare of one feline blue eye staring back at me.

  There’s so much blood. So much, I think as my eyes start burning and my chest squeezes. My knees go weak, and I’m on the verge of screaming hysterically and falling into a slump when the sound of a footfall behind me penetrates the rushing in my ears.

  I react on instinct and swing, bringing the pan up with as much strength as my numb arms will allow.

  “Baby!”

  It’s too late for me to pull back, and I gasp when it makes contact, the force sending a zing up my arm just before it’s grabbed and tossed away, a pair of strong arms coming around me.

  I’m unable to stand a moment longer, but that’s okay because Lex has me, his strength holding me up, as I let out a wail and start sobbing loudly. He curses, probably having seen my poor Hussy, and I feel him shudder before he scoops me up and walks out of the room, barking orders into his phone as he goes for the living room.

  “Get your asses in here!”

  My heart…it’s breaking and so damn full of regret I can barely breathe properly. I knew that darn cat wasn’t just staying away. I should have gone looking for her and done something to protect her!

  “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Lex croons to me, keeping me pinned in his arms as he lowers down to the sofa.

  It penetrates at last that we’re not alone, and I hear the guys retch a little somewhere in the background as Lex strokes my back and just holds me.

  “Who does that to a defenseless animal?” I ask when the sobs finally end and I’m pulling in shallow breaths. “There was so much blood.”

  “I know, baby. I know, don’t think about what you saw,” he growls, his arms going tight around me.

  But I have to. Not just because it’s burned into my brain, but also because I’m not too hysterical to realize that someone was in my house, setting up that horrible scene.

  That blood trail came all the way into the kitchen where I was busy. I could have turned from the stove at any moment without warning and caught them, I get that.

  And that only tells me that this person is either really nuts or too cocky to give much of a shit about being caught. It also hasn’t escaped me that I was completely defenseless and could have been shot, stabbed, or just…killed earlier.

  I certainly didn’t hear a thing, and chances are I would still have been at the stove, unaware when he crept up on me.

  “You should go look. I’ll be fine.”

  “Baby, I—”

  “Go,” I urge him, sliding off his lap and onto the sofa. “I’m fine now, I swear.”

  Lex sighs and closes his eyes, rising to look down at me.

  “Bobby is just outside the door, and the house is surro
unded so don’t be afraid.”

  “I’m okay. Go.”

  He leaves me sitting alone with one last look, those blue eyes of his filled with so much anger it’s palpable as he stomps down the passage. I hear his curse and the muted voices of the other men, and I totally get what has him so riled up.

  “How the fuck did he get in?”

  “The window as far as I can tell. Ricky took a look outside. No footprints, but there’s a few blood drops outside leading to a part of the fence where a wooden slat seems to be loose.”

  “The window? There signs of forced entry?”

  I cringe and sink deeper into the sofa when they all stomp into the bedroom, and then I want to just sink into the floor and disappear because an enraged bull is headed my way. I can feel him.

  “You opened the window?” he grates, towering over me.

  “For a little fresh air.” And to bring Hussy home, I add silently. “It wasn’t for long, Lex. Please don’t glare at me. I already feel like an asshole.”

  “Well, you should! Goddammit, Rosetta, did you see that blood trail? That animal was in your kitchen! He had at least five minutes of maneuvering time to set up that scene and come out here to make a very neat, very unhurried trail from the kitchen to your bedroom, woman. You could—”

  “I know! I’m sorry. I just, I didn’t think anyone could get to the window what with the guys outside watching the house.”

  “Because he didn’t. He waited until Marco had already walked the back perimeter and snuck in from a neighboring house, Rosetta. No one saw him; the guys have been door to door. You could have died in that kitchen because you refused to listen to me.”

  He’s so angry, and I totally get where he’s coming from, but I’m feeling really fragile right now and I don’t need this.

  “Stop yelling at me! I said I’m sorry, okay? You think I wanted to see that blood on the floor and find Hussy that way?”

  “No, but it also hasn’t escaped my notice that you followed the blood instead of getting your ass out the front door like I trained you to do.”

  “I am not a dog!”

  “I know that. At least a fucking dog obeys orders. For God’s sake, woman, this is serious. You wanted proof this is more than some idiot just wanting to scare you? Well, you have it. You see that carnage? It tells me something that I fucking hope you can understand now: this guy is more than capable of violence.”

  A shiver runs down my spine at those words, and I feel myself slump back, not capable of thinking clearly, though I will tell you, my brain seems intent on skipping over scenario after scenario right now.

  “I…there was so much blood,” I sniff.

  Lex deflates the tiniest bit, and I hear him sigh as he lowers down beside me and pulls me to his chest.

  “I know, baby. I’m so sorry you lost the world’s ugliest cat this way.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lex

  I’m still a little shaken as the cops and Gino’s men tromp out of the house, leaving us alone two hours later after they came out to take a look at what is now officially a crime scene.

  The poor cat has been taken away, one of the first things I asked the cops to do because I need that shit gone before Rosetta gets another look and realizes something I do not want her to ever think about.

  All that blood and the spray patterns can mean only one thing: it was killed on her bed, not just staged there after it was done in.

  That fact suggests a level of violence that makes my skin crawl because it also hints at the fact that this crime is more personal than I initially thought.

  Whoever is doing this to Rosetta knows her. I get that now, as unbelievable as that sounds. It could be a friend, acquaintance, hell, a co-worker even. I don’t know yet, but what I do know is that it’s someone filled with enough rage to do that to an animal.

  We have officially gone from warnings, threats, and terrorizing straight into violence, the first step toward actually harming Rosetta. I won’t allow that to happen, but it’s killing me that we don’t have anything to go on here.

  Not one hair, print, or fiber has been found, not that the fucking police took the scene too seriously after discovering the victim was a cat. I really hate those assholes, a lot, because as hesitant as I am to besmirch our finest, it has come to my attention that stalking laws and the goddamn cops in this state are not as helpful as they should be.

  “This is bad.”

  I grunt into the phone when Jericho growls, along with Storm, who’s been very vocal about his displeasure and disgust thus far. I take a seat on the sofa, watching the connecting bedroom door with a sigh.

  Rosetta is in the guestroom, sedated after I convinced a paramedic to give her something without her knowing. She’s so wrung out that I doubt she’ll wake up before tomorrow morning, even if it’s only two in the afternoon now.

  “I know. I’ve looked at it all—friends, associates, co-workers. Shit, I even spoke to old high school classmates this morning, and I have nothing. As far as I can tell, Rosetta is well liked and beloved by all of her friends. She has no enemies, not one,” I say in frustration, wishing that just one person had given me something to work with.

  “That only leaves an obsessed stalker though,” Blaze grunts, making me smile. “And I just don’t think that’s the case here.”

  “Me either. I saw that poor fucking cat, man. It was brutal. She was killed here, though from what animal control said, I’m grateful to say she was at least sedated when she was killed.”

  That’s really the only reason that I haven’t lost my shit yet and gotten Rosetta out of here and on the first flight to my town. To what end though? I have no home to take her to, and chances are she wouldn’t go anyway.

  Damn woman is stubborn as shit.

  “Christ. That’s just sick,” Storm growls. “Lenny said you need to bring her out here where the girls can get their claws into her.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is not that kind of case guys,” I protest, ignoring their laughter. “I like Ro, I do, but we’re not getting together or anything.”

  “Yeah, sure. You telling me you haven’t tapped that ass, yet? You?” Storm asks doubtfully, making me scowl. “Come on, Lex, we know you. You can’t resist a good-looking woman worth a damn, and I’ve seen Rosie. She’s gorgeous with all that red hair and that mischievous smile.”

  “Dammit, I didn’t say that! I said we’re not an item, and we won’t be one either. She lives in Vegas. I live in Mayberry, and besides, you know I don’t do relationships.”

  A long silence follows, and I can almost see Jericho’s mouth harden. The man is a reformed man-whore, and he tends to think that any time you sleep with a woman that you should have enough respect for her to at least consider commitment.

  I don’t know what Cleo has been feeding the fool, but I’m going to avoid that shit for as long as I can, thank you very much. Sure, I like Rosetta. That’s proven since I went at her so hard and so much last night that I had to leave just to give my still-hard dick a break.

  The woman is addictive, and this man does not do addiction of any kind. Ever. Don’t judge me. I get that leaving her this morning was cowardly, but give me a fucking break.

  She’s a job, someone who will be gone before I know it, and I don’t allow attachments. Things are easier that way.

  “Don’t,” I warn when I hear a sigh. “She’s not some fragile woman who does the hearts and flowers routine. We had sex. She knows the score, and she was on board for it.”

  “Fine, but don’t say we didn’t warn you, bro. She sounds like a keeper, and I would hate for you to toss her…only to have her run into the arms of some other guy.”

  “Shut up, Jericho.”

  “Whatever. Look, she’s right about one thing, sitting around in her house isn’t going to resolve this. This guy is smart and methodical; he has to be from the way he’s kept himself hidden for so long. This cat thing just proves that he knows her, knows her home, and maybe also has eyes on
her. You need to force his hand.”

  “No. She’s not bait!”

  “I know that, but be objective here, Lex. Hiding out isn’t going to get the job done, and neither is re-interviewing her people. You need to do something before this guy escalates.”

  I know this, but I hate that Storm is pointing it out at all.

  On top of this clusterfuck of a day, I also got a call from my guy in the Army and the news about Zulu is not good. He was spotted on the Afghani border two days ago, and then just disappeared.

  I haven’t told the guys as yet because they’d just start going nuts looking for intel, and Storm’s on the verge of becoming a father, too. Lenny needs his head in the game, and I don’t want them distracted for even a moment right now when their women need them. King, too, seems intent on just ignoring the threat, but I can’t say I blame the man. He’s still on his faux honeymoon and arranging a wedding I’d really like to be at.

  Damn, I wonder if Kins will walk out or go through with it. At this point, I think she’s just prolonging it to make him suffer for being such a jackass and leaving her before he came to his senses.

  “I’ll think about it,” I finally mutter, my eyes flicking to the bedroom door again.

  I want to be in there with her, holding her while she sleeps, another indication that I need to get some distance before I fall into the pussy trap like all my friends have.

  It’s ironic, and definitely one of the reasons I was trying to ignore our attraction to each other. All the watchers have fallen for their most recent Sparrows so far.

  I’m sure most would think it romantic, but I have no intention of falling into the mire, not ever if I can help it.

  “Good. I’m sending Blaze and King your way.”

  “No. I can handle this alongside Gino’s security staff. I’ve got this, and besides, I don’t want anyone messing with her head. We have a good thing going, and those yahoos would probably get her thinking about shit I don’t need her thinking about. This isn’t love.”

  It is “like” though. A lot of “like” that makes me itch to run, and at the same time, just pull her closer. I really like Rosetta. I really do. And that is not something I like right now.