They were aware.
“I’m sorry about that kiss on the last case,” Callen offered, knowing he was likely the reason all of this started. While their team knew, keeping their secret, the media had sensationalized it.
It was only a kiss.
How could that possibly hurt?
Yeah, that had been his thinking, and Callen never saw this one coming. Not in a million years.
“Don’t apologize for kissing me, Cal. Never. We’re not some freak show. We have a private relationship on our own time, and no one has any right to taint that. Our private life is private.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay. I won’t freak out.”
She went up on her toes and kissed him softly. When she was done, Ethan pulled him into his arms and hugged his brother. “I’ve got this, Callen. I need you to trust me with this.”
He did. Ethan was his rock. “I’ll always trust you.”
He patted his brother on the cheek as he stared into his eyes. “You’re not only my brother, but you’re also part of my heart. We won’t deny what we have.”
He needed to hear that.
“Thank you, Ethan.”
“No need. Now. I’m going to need help with this,” he stated.
“What can we do?” Elizabeth offered, as he pulled away.
He began tugging his shirt out of his jeans. Ethan was going to go at the media head on, and that meant being Director Ethan Blackhawk, not someone investigation a case. He was about to pull out the big guns.
“You and Callen need to find me as much as you can on Seth Denton, and I’m going to go get changed.”
“Uh oh,” she said, lifting a brow. “You’re going to Blackhawk them.”
He laughed. “Yes, yes I am. They’re messing with my spouses, and that means I’m willing to play dirty.”
Callen’s heart skipped. Ethan had never referred to him as that before. It was always brother or partner. He wanted to weep with gratitude that the man he loved shared the same feelings.
Elizabeth squeezed Callen’s hand. “We’ll get you dirt. You get ready.”
Ethan headed into the bedroom.
He was pissed.
There was no doubt in his mind. The media was about to get eaten alive.
Director Ethan Blackhawk took no prisoners when it came to his family.
There was going to be bloodshed.
And it wasn’t going to be theirs.
Chapter Eleven
She slept the entire flight back and not next to him. As soon as they got on the jet, Johanna took her spot across from him and reclined both seats.
At first, Brody thought she was getting their spot ready, but then she lounged in the middle, not leaving any room for him.
It spoke clearly of her mood.
While he wanted to address it last night, it was a new day. Maybe when she woke, they’d be on better standing. When they arrived back at the airport, there was a delay in weather before taking off.
They could have used that time to talk through it, but frankly, he was afraid.
He’d already had his heart handed to him by Johanna Madden once before. The last thing he needed was her on the run, leaving him behind.
That was a fate worse than death.
The couple of times she woke in the night, when he opened his mouth, Johanna simply rolled over or closed her eyes.
Yeah, this was bad.
Very, very bad.
Now the plane was getting ready to land, and she was wide awake.
It was now or never.
“Johanna?” he said, praying she’d at least look at him. When he got his wish, he saw the pain in her eyes. He got it.
She felt betrayed.
“We should get back to the cabin. I want a shower before we head in to debrief the bosses.”
He knew that was total bull because they didn't have anything new to report. She simply wanted to avoid talking about the situation. They were now step siblings, and that didn't sit well with either of them.
Brody was at her mercy, and he knew it.
That didn't bode well.
He couldn’t watch their relationship deteriorate further. He had to say something.
Anything.
“I guess the wedding is off. I don’t blame you. After what my father did, I’d run from me too.”
She glanced over. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “Are you telling me you want your ring back?”
Johanna glanced down at it, and it sparkled in the darkened space.
“No. I never want it back. I want to see it on your finger for the rest of our lives, but if marrying your ‘brother’ freaks you out, I get it. People will talk.”
She didn't know what to say. Johanna felt horrible that she’d given him that impression. “I still want to marry you, and I’m not worried that you’re my step-brother. I can’t control what our parents do.”
“Then why are you so mad? You won’t even look at me.”
“I’m ashamed.”
“Of what?” he asked, moving closer.
“I lost my temper. There aren’t many people in this world who can make that happen. I pride myself on being calm, cool, and collected. Monica pushes me over the edge, and that’s not how I want you to see me.”
“I don’t’ see you out of control, Joey. I see you hurt by her actions. My father knew we were dating, and so did she. They could have come to me, asking my intention. I would have told them I had a ring and was going to propose. Good parents would have put us first, and they would have waited until after we were married.”
She listened to him.
“You’re hurt, and so am I. The best part of this is that we don’t need them in our lives. We have each other. All we really need is us. As long as we have that, we’re going to be fine.”
He had a point.
They absolutely did have something strong.
“Does this mean you’re still going to be my wife?” he asked, needing to know.
“One day, yes.”
It was a start. She was still wearing his ring and not running thanks to his father and her mother.
“I love you,” she admitted.
Oh, he loved her too.
“You’re my whole life, Joey. We’ll be fine. I swear to you. You can believe in me.”
She knew she could.
“Thank you, Brody,” she said, giving him a kiss. As her lips lingered, she was grateful to not be alone.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he stated. “The jet is landing, and we need to get to work.”
She took his hand in hers as they waited.
“We’ve got this, Joey. I promise you.”
She didn't doubt it in the least.
They had love.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Reservation
He was ready to handle it.
There was no way anyone was making a spectacle of his marriage. He’d reached his limit. While Ethan Blackhawk would tolerate the chatter, the sometimes nasty looks, and the innuendos, he wouldn’t allow his partners in life to become fodder for the media.
It wasn’t happening.
Elizabeth was his wife. She gave him kids, risked her life, and always lifted them up when they were falling apart. That alone meant no one was calling her names.
No one.
He was going to put his foot down.
Then there was Callen. He was more than a brother. When he called him a spouse, it didn't feel odd. For the longest time, Ethan held that back. Maybe part of him was afraid of what people would think, or that he was nervous about crossing some taboo line, but it was time to own it. Yes, he was in a relationship with a woman and man. While they didn't have sex with each other, they had intimate moments that couldn’t be ignored.
They saw each other naked.
Their bodies brushed during sex with their woman.
Callen wasn’t just his half-brother. He was, in a way, a husband of sorts. While their relationship was co
mplicated, one thing remained true.
He loved him.
He loved them.
So, as he stared into the mirror, fixing his blue silk, raven tie, he’d made up his mind.
He was taking control of the situation by putting the media in its place. No one would hurt his family like this.
No one.
Slipping into his long, black wool overcoat, he prepared to do battle. Heading out, Callen and Elizabeth flanking him, he stopped not far from the crowd.
As soon as he did, the questions erupted like flames doused with gasoline.
Yet, Ethan said nothing.
He gave them a minute to shout as much as they wanted. Eventually, he knew they’d wear themselves out. At some point, they’d shut up.
Then he would handle it.
Dealing with the media was like dealing with petulant children. He’d done it many times before. As his wife would say, this wasn’t his first time at this rodeo.
When they were done, only then did he speak, “I’m here to discuss something that was brought to my attention this morning as we were getting ready for work. It seems that someone has decided that our personal lives are fodder for the rumor mill.”
More questions exploded around him. They ranged from ‘was he gay’ to ‘did he believe incest was acceptable’.
Even Elizabeth cringed from her position behind her husband. Callen was twitchy, and she only prayed the media didn't focus on him.
“I’m not here to answer your questions,” Ethan said, continuing his planned discussion, “so you can stop asking them. I’m simply here to inform you that while you feel you have every right to publish whatever you want, you don’t. I’m here to tell you that going forward, this is done.”
Suddenly, silence fell.
No one spoke.
In the crowd, Ethan could spot Seth Denton. He had a grin on his face, and he looked proud. If he could, Ethan would have wiped it off with his fist.
This was going to be so worth it.
Ethan continued, “Can someone please tell me why my sex life is anyone’s business but my own?” he asked. “Why do you feel, as media, that you can invade my privacy? Why do you feel that you can call the mother of my children names in a public forum and call it journalism?”
A few reporters looked uncomfortable. They should. Ethan and Elizabeth had given them interviews before, and they knew that gravy train was coming to an end.
“Why is it appropriate for you to make veiled innuendos about my sex life? What happens between us is our business, and no one else’s.”
They all began shouting again, and he rode it out. Ethan wasn’t budging an inch from his mission. They couldn’t intimidate or rattle him.
Not when it came to this.
“The answer you’re searching for is—it’s not. Personal lives should be personal. While you get a kick out of stalking us, taking pictures, and harassing my family, I have news for you. I’m taking legal action. Right now, I have filed a report with the authorities against the author of this article. It seems that some of the pictures used in the paper weren’t at crime scenes. There are ones of us coming and going from work, ones with us going out with our kids, and to places not related to our jobs. That’s called stalking. It happened across state lines, so the FBI will be investigating it as cyber harassment.”
The man in the front stopped smiling.
He knew he was screwed.
“Mr. Seth Denton, while having fun talking about our sex lives, has crossed a fine line. Here, in this state, there is a law. If you paparazzi people while they are doing personal things, not related to their jobs or careers, you can be charged with harassment.”
Elizabeth smiled.
She loved watching her husband work.
“We’re taking the law and using it to protect us. We have children, and while you don’t care who knows where they live, or what schools they go to, we do. You’ve not only risked us, Mr. Denton, but you’ve endangered our children. As we speak, a cease and desist order is on its way to your bosses. They are being slapped with a lawsuit if you don’t stop harassing my family.”
“So you’re going to deny that you have a relationship with your brother?” someone shouted.
Ethan glanced toward the man. “I am doing no such thing. My brother and I do have a relationship. It’s a very close one, built on respect and love. He’s my brother.”
“Do you have sex with him?” another shouted.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he replied. “Who do you have sex with?” Ethan asked. “I’d like for you to publicly start naming people.”
He laughed.
“I’m waiting. Who did you have sex with last?” Ethan asked. “Are you gay? Are you straight? Are you into animals?” he asked.
No one spoke.
His point was made.
“You wouldn’t want your lives plastered in some cheap rag, and neither do we. Seth Denton works for some tabloid who preys on people. Last week, they saw Elvis in Colorado. He was buying pot to feed his habit. As journalists, you should all be ashamed of yourselves. We’ve worked with a few of you, and we’ve given you interviews. That stops now.”
There were protests.
“I’m sure you can all see it from our point of view. Who here is divorced?” he asked.
A few raised their hands.
“How would you feel if all the personal things in that divorce showed up in a public forum like the paper? Would you be happy?”
No one spoke.
“Normally, we’re very accommodating to the media. We answer questions, we do interviews, and we even try our best to make sure you’re given details to break stories wide open. I recognize a few of you who follow us cross country. We had a repartee. Now, I’m not feeling so magnanimous. From here on out, anyone I can identify here has just been blacklisted. I’m forwarding your information, and affiliation, to all my colleagues. You’ll not handle a crime story or anything short of a puppy abduction again.”
Now they all looked sick.
“This is what happens when you call a man’s wife a hussy. I don’t know why you’re all shocked.”
It was time to deliver the killing blow.
“Mr. Denton, since you’re so interested in airing secrets, and calling my wife names, I’ll offer my rebuttal in public. I did some research on you too. See, it’s a two way street. I think your buddies here, the ones who thought you were a genius for digging up copious amounts of smut on us, would like to know your secret.”
Callen grinned, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. The man was three days past screwed.
“Where you like to gossip about my private life, I’ll be the first to point out your career beginnings. Do you share with everyone that you were expelled from a university for plagiarism on multiple counts? Do they know that your college roommate wrote all your papers for you and you paid him?”
The man looked horrified.
Ethan was damn glad.
“Yes, we looked him up and gave him a call. My wife, the hussy, was very persuasive over the phone. He cracked in seconds.”
Seth Denton tried backing away from the crowd, only he couldn’t.
“Did you tell your fellow journalists that it gets worse? Are they aware that you stole another person’s work and attempted to pass it off as your own in one of your other classes too? Then you were booted from school and had to finish your degree at a junior college.”
The man was now sheet white, and everyone was staring at him.
“This is case in point. Before you start throwing stones, you should make sure your house isn’t glass. If it is, you’re bound to get cut. If you call my wife any more names, you’re going to have legal problems to add to your professional ones.”
He ran his hand over his blue silk raven tie.
The questions began, and he watched the pack turn on its own. They were like hyenas. If they wanted to get details from the director, they would have to choose a side.
His.
Or Seth Denton’s.
It was obvious who they chose.
To reward them, he offered up the next five minutes to answer their questions regarding the case. They were subdued, and Seth Denton had slipped away, likely in embarrassment.
No one felt bad for him.
When they were getting into the Denali, Elizabeth leaned over and planted one right on his mouth. It was full on lip lock, and there was a plentitude of tongue. When he moaned, his body waking to her touch, she slowly pulled away, his lower lip between her teeth.
“Holy shit! I’ll take more of that any day.”
She grinned. “That’s from the hussy wife to the super sexy hero who defended our honor.”
Hell!
He’d do it all over again.
“Uh, you do realize that it was my research that found the plagiarism tidbit, right? Shouldn’t it be my mouth you’re assaulting?” Callen asked.
She winked at him. “But he’s wearing a suit.”
Callen rolled his eyes. “He always wears a suit. He’d wear one into the shower if it wouldn’t ruin the pleats.”
Blackhawk laughed, and then grinned wickedly at his brother. “Don’t underestimate the power of a suit, Callen. Our hussy likes them. You should buy a few.”
“When we get home, I’m going shopping,” he muttered. “Suits it is.”
Elizabeth buckled in. “Yee haw, Cowboy and Indian.”
Her day couldn’t get any better.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
It was time to leave that place.
They’d used it long enough, and now they would go back to their main hidey-hole. Well, after they watched the FBI scramble around like little lost puppies.
It was fun to spy on the Feds.
It was like a hobby.
Soon, the FBI would show up—if they were worth their ilk. If not, they’d get a little push in the right direction.
Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) Page 30