Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12)

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Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) Page 14

by Morgan Kelley


  “Okay, and?” the deputy asked, glancing right over at the two Feds.

  Brody crossed his fingers and pulled Johanna toward the door. They didn't need the woman behind the counter informing the strangers that the FBI was right behind them.

  Now, they needed to get to the morgue and warn the bosses.

  This was going to be a problem.

  A huge one.

  After they left, the large man at the counter looked around. “We know the FBI is here, and we just want to know where. They’re hunting for one of our fugitives. Can you give us a location to find them? Are they working out of here?”

  She shook her head, checking the man out. He had brown hair, sunglasses on, and looked like he meant business.

  “They’re working out of the morgue.”

  He nodded to his partner. “Thank you, Deputy Dotson. I appreciate your help.”

  With that, they headed out.

  “I told you that was going to be easy,” Dakota said once they were outside.

  Delaney didn't buy it.

  “I feel like we’re in for a few surprises, Dak. Feds don’t play well together, and you know that. We should have done this by the book and notified them in advance.”

  “You worry too much.”

  “You don’t worry enough.”

  Oh, he was aware.

  Life was too short. He’d sweat the small details later. He had a woman on his mind...

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Morgue

  Everyone in the room jumped when the two agents rushed in. In fact, they scared the crap out of Merry, who actually screeched.

  “Holy shit! Are you crazy?” Elizabeth asked from her spot on the table. When she jumped down, she was ready to smack some agents around.

  They nearly gave her a freaking heart attack.

  Ethan and Callen, who were leaning on the wall, went back to relaxing when they saw it was only the two agents and not some maniac after their wife.

  “Marshals,” Johanna said, breathing heavy. They’d run the entire way there just to warn them.

  “What?” Elizabeth said, lifting a brow.

  “We were just at the sheriff’s station. We have two US Marshals here working a case,” Brody clarified.

  Elizabeth glanced over at her husband. “You better make a call. If they think they’re coming in here, playing the fugitive card, they have another thing coming. We’ve pulled this one, and we’re finishing it. No one calls me out, threatens my family, and gets away with it.”

  Blackhawk pulled out his phone and prepared to call Gabe. Only, he didn't get a chance.

  The doors swung open again, and two armed Marshals strolled in. He could tell by the way they were dressed and the forty caliber Glocks on their hips.

  Well hell.

  They were here.

  As he glanced over at his wife, her mouth was open, her eyes were wide, and the coffee in her hand was falling to the ground.

  The man was right there, and instead of an introduction, he pulled Elizabeth into his arms, his mouth met hers, and he kissed her.

  The entire room gasped.

  Then they glanced over at Ethan and Callen, waiting for some sort of explosion.

  Elizabeth’s arms remained out, and her eyes were open as the man held her to his body. It was apparent that she was just as horrified at what was going on.

  Ethan saw red.

  Everything boiled up in him, threatening to spill over and into the room. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Some man had his hands and mouth on their woman.

  This had to be a dream—a nightmare—for sure.

  As quickly as the kiss began, it ended.

  “Well, hello, Elizabeth LaRue,” he said, swinging her around. “I never thought we’d cross paths again. It’s been too long.”

  Callen put his hand on his brother’s arm. The second he touched him, he could tell that Ethan was seething in anger. While Callen wanted to explode, he knew he had to be the calm one.

  There had to be an explanation.

  Now he only hoped Ethan waited for it before he killed someone.

  “I missed you, sugar,” Dakota purred. “It’s damn good to see you again.”

  Elizabeth still couldn’t talk. She was a wash in a few emotions.

  Horror.

  Terror.

  Fear.

  And panic.

  “Oh, shit!” muttered Chris and Tony when they recognized him from Elizabeth’s past.

  Dakota knew it was time to get the introductions going. Placing Elizabeth back on her feet, he spun around to shake her partner’s hand.

  “Hello, Director Blackhawk. It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You don’t know me, but I'm US Marshal Dakota Rakin, and I’m here to offer you our services. My partner, Delaney Moore, and I have been chasing Bonnie and Clyde all over the country. We want in.”

  Ethan moved closer to the man. He was some cowboy in a blazer, and immediately, he wanted to take his head off his shoulders. This asshole was someone his wife would absolutely be attracted to. He was tall, tan, and handsome.

  That alone pissed him off to no end. He could see that kiss in his mind, and it made him want to neuter the man.

  “Ethan, don’t do it,” Elizabeth warned, seeing the look in his eyes. Her husband was about to lose it.

  This was about to be a free-for-all.

  “I can be an asset, Director. Give me a shot.”

  Elizabeth cringed.

  Callen knew it was inevitable.

  The only person who didn't know he was a dead man was the one grinning like a fool.

  It looked like he was about to learn, and fast. Ethan Blackhawk was grinning now too, only it wasn’t a pleasant one.

  No, it was feral.

  Dangerous.

  Vicious.

  And directed at the man before him.

  “Oh, so you want a shot?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

  “I certainly do.”

  Those were the last words he was able to say because he didn't see the fist coming.

  Ethan Blackhawk lost it and punched the man in the face, taking him to the ground.

  Dakota Rakin hit the concrete with a thud.

  He was out cold.

  For now…

  Chapter Five

  They were in deep shit and she knew it. The whole thing took seconds, but the ramifications would be there for a long time. After decking Dakota, Ethan had retreated to the neutral corner outside the morgue.

  Now she had to weigh her options and figure out what the hell she had to do to fix this.

  Ethan Blackhawk, the man with infinite amounts of calm under pressure, had lost it. Not only had he struck a fellow lawman, but he did it in a room full of people. On the scale of one to bad, this one ranked right about calamity.

  Screwed didn't cover it.

  Not this time.

  Yes, granted, their staff would cover for them. Yes, it was lying, but she knew they wouldn’t hesitate to protect one of their own. The problem wasn’t them.

  The big issue was that Dakota’s partner had been right there. She was a witness to his meltdown, and that was going to bite them all in the ass. If they made it through this with their jobs intact, it would be a miracle.

  The Federal government frowned on violence in the workplace. While productive to scare people into working, HR departments put their foot down on punching each other out.

  Crap!

  Crap!

  Crap!

  This was a disaster, and she didn't know what to do. It was her scene, and when Callen had done something similar, she had to reprimand him.

  Hell!

  She’d forced him to stay behind as punishment.

  Now her husband had put her in a very similar positon, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. Elizabeth was an equal on paper, but they all knew who ran FBI West. When Gabe Rothschild retired, it wouldn’t be her up for his job. It would be the Golden Gloves champ, E
than Blackhawk.

  Well, that was until slugger started swinging. He’d practically kissed any hope of moving up the ladder goodbye.

  Now, she was going to have to stand there and tear his ass a new one, when she really couldn’t blame him. Someone violated her space, and he was pissed.

  Her head began to pound.

  What the bloody hell was she supposed to do now?

  Anything Elizabeth did from this point out was circumspect to so much scrutiny. She was expected to reprimand him.

  If she did that, Ethan would be even angrier. His testosterone fueled rage was only going to get worse.

  He might just lose it.

  Granted, she wasn’t afraid he might try and punch her out, but he was going to give her the cold shoulder for not having his back.

  And…he’d be right.

  Her instinct was to protect him.

  Her job was to protect the person out cold on the morgue floor.

  This was a mess.

  Elizabeth wished she could rewind time.

  As she stood outside the morgue, Ethan was smoking. It was a vice he seldom partook in. The only time he’d falter was when he was beyond rational behavior. As he stormed out of the morgue, he grabbed an entire pack from a tech.

  That said it all.

  Someone was getting his smoke on.

  Elizabeth wasn’t ready to deal with him, and from the way he was mumbling as he paced, he wasn’t ready for the talk either.

  So, she’d wait.

  Leaning against the wall, she prayed Ethan wasn’t pickling her child with second hand smoke.

  When he finally stopped in front of her, Elizabeth waited for him to talk.

  “He kissed you like you were his!”

  “I noticed.”

  “How dare he? Who walks into a room, grabs a random woman and crams his tongue down her throat?”

  “Someone who wants to get their ass kicked.”

  “I can’t believe he did that. Who behaves like some redneck, backwoods cowboy with no clue how to act in a public setting?”

  “Dakota Rakin.”

  She could have added something to the conversation like, ‘who punches a grown man out in autopsy’? Instead, she kept her mouth shut.

  They had a big enough mess.

  “He kissed you like you wanted it!”

  “Well, I didn’t.”

  “He just…”

  Reality began setting in.

  Ethan stopped, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I screwed up, Elizabeth. I really lost it in there.”

  Yeah, that was an understatement.

  Despite that, she knew he’d eventually get there. The anger was something that he fought valiantly to control, but beneath it all, he was logical and a leader.

  And he knew he’d really made a mess of this.

  “Lyzee,” he began, staring at her. “I didn't mean to make you feel like you’re an object that two dogs were fighting over.”

  “Well, you did.”

  He took a deep breath, inhaling as much of the cigarette as he could. He held it in and tried to find some control as the nicotine gave him a buzz.

  He didn't say anything. Instead, he watched her with those deep blue-black eyes. So much emotion was in them. While rational behavior began setting in, he was still pissed. There was banked fire there, and she knew it wasn’t over.

  It was far from done.

  Now, she had two choices. She could make him suffer, or she could love him despite the giant screw up.

  “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not mad at you.”

  He dropped the cigarette, and she crushed it with her boot.

  “We need to fix this now. What happened is over, and we have to move forward.”

  “I could have just thrown away my job. I put my hands on someone in anger.”

  She was well aware, and now their hands were tied. This was going to take one hell of a tap dance to save his ass, and his career.

  “I’ll fix it,” she offered, holding out her hand.

  “How?” he asked, unsure if he wanted to know. While he knew he needed to calm down, inside he was falling apart. He let the anger destroy everything he worked so hard for in his life.

  He lived his career, and held everyone to such high standards. Now…he’d sunk to a new low. He’d become someone he once hated.

  He’d reverted to his youth and the place he came from. As a young man, he was violence, anger, and hate. He’d overcome it, and now he was back there again.

  Ethan wanted to punish himself, and maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to save face.

  It sucked, but he was now at the mercy of a man who had once been naked with his wife. He had to kiss ass, and pray for a miracle. It wasn’t about him. It was about their life.

  Their kids.

  Their mortgage.

  Their livelihood.

  This was his worst nightmare.

  Her past had a face, and he was Caucasian, good looking, and likely a better choice than he ever was. Dakota Rakin was everything he wasn’t.

  Well, shit!

  This day was going to hell in a handbasket.

  “Let me handle it,” she stated, staring up into his eyes. “You’ve crossed that line. Now I have to work at redrawing it, so you can stay part of our team.”

  He didn't believe she could do it.

  Ethan wanted to, but deep down, he was pretty sure he’d fucked it all up. His one moment of stupidity had erased fifteen plus years of bleeding for the FBI.

  “I don’t have a choice,” he stated.

  He was right. Ethan Blackhawk’s back was to the wall, and he was at Dakota Rakin’s mercy.

  Once inside, Elizabeth noticed everyone was on pins and needles. They’d just watched the unshakable Ethan Blackhawk lose it. When the chips were down, and your back was to the wall, he was the one person who would be in control.

  And he’d snapped.

  That meant he was human, and it could happen again.

  There was fear there.

  She could read it on their faces. It looked like she was going to be patching up more than this mess. She was going to have to reassure the team that Ethan was fine.

  Great.

  Everything they knew to be reliable was on shaky ground.

  “Techs, head out. Take a ten minute break. There’s a coffee shop down the street. Coffee is on me,” she offered, handing Merry her credit card.

  No one said a word as they got into their winter coats. Elizabeth watched them hustle about as she worked out the plan in her head.

  As soon as they were gone, she focused on their ME and anthropologist.

  “Chris and Tony, can you take the two agents and go work on your notes in the next room? Callen and I need to deal with this situation.” By excluding Ethan in that, she hoped she was sending a clear message.

  Violence in the workplace was not to be tolerated.

  God!

  This whole thing sucked. Elizabeth hated playing boss. She liked being the wild card. She wanted to kick Ethan’s ass for making her do this.

  As they grabbed their things, her focus was on the man sitting on the one morgue table with a bag of ice on his face. His partner was watching them warily, like they were going to shoot them and try to hide the bodies.

  Yeah, if only it was that easy.

  “Sure thing, boss,” Chris said, heading out. When he went past Ethan, he patted him on the shoulder in reassurance.

  “Dakota, we need to talk.”

  He laughed. “You think? I was just assaulted by the head of FBI West. His job is gone.”

  Yeah, this was going to suck.

  So much for calm level headed people.

  “Well, yeah, it is, and so is yours. You see, you came into the room and kissed me. It was unwarranted, unsolicited, and against my wishes. So, you just assaulted me. I’m filing a report against you.”

  He started laughing again, and then realized that she wasn’t kidding. “Shit, Lyzbeth, you have to be kidding.
We go way back. There’s no way you’re going to hold that against me. At one time, you liked me kissing you. I thought we could go back there again.”

  Both Callen and Ethan cringed at the nickname he’d given her. It pissed them both off to no end. Not only had he been in her body, but he was in her heart.

  “Listen, you’re an idiot.”

  “I was saying hello to a woman I once asked to marry me,” he corrected. “We have a history. I know how many freckles are on your nose and that one between your breasts.”

  Callen lunged this time. Fortunately, Ethan was in control enough to stop him.

  “What’s wrong with those two?” Dakota asked, watching them carefully. “For two directors, they have really bad manners.”

  Elizabeth pulled her badge off her hip. “Read it really slowly, out loud, and think about it.”

  When he caught it, he didn't know what she was talking about, but he did what she asked. “Director Elizabeth Whitefox-Blackhawk.”

  He looked up at her.

  Then over at Ethan.

  “Oh, shit! You two have the same last name. He’s your husband!”

  “Well, he certainly isn't my damn brother,” she said. “You came into a morgue full of Feds and assaulted me with your mouth.”

  “A deadly weapon,” he said, trying to joke about it. When he got a hold of his brother, he was going to kick his ass for only giving him half the story.

  Elizabeth LaRue had gotten hitched.

  “Yeah, that would be funny if I wasn’t married, Dak. The only problem is, I’m happily married to the man you provoked with that kiss. I’ve been married to Ethan for quite a few years now.”

  He stared at her. “How many is ‘quite a few’?” Dakota asked.

  “Going on five.”

  She could tell he was doing the math in his head. Yeah, it wasn’t that long after she’d kissed him goodbye, using her job as an excuse not to get married.

  “I see.”

  “I don’t think you do. I’m also pregnant. So you not only kissed a married woman, but you put your lips on a pregnant one too.”

  He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Director. I totally deserved that face shot. I know that had the roles been reversed, and I was married to Lyzbeth, I would have done the same thing to anyone who kissed her.”

 

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