Blood Bound
Copyright ©2020 Samantha A. Cole
All Rights Reserved.
Suspenseful Seduction Publishing
* * *
Blood Bound is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
* * *
Editing by Eve Arroyo
Cover by Cover Me Darlings
Cover photo by Eric Mckinney
Cover Model - Derrick Keith Meacham
* * *
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Other Books By Samantha A. Cole
About the Author
Chapter One
Using the mirror in the bathroom attached to his office, Chase Dixon made sure his burgundy tie was straight under the navy-blue suit he’d changed into a few minutes ago. The custom-made jacket and pants fit his six-foot-three, sinewy frame perfectly. It was rare for him to be so formally dressed at work—usually he was in cargo pants, combat boots or rubber-soled shoes, and a polo or T-shirt with the logo for his company, Blackhawk Security. But today was a big day—a very special day. One he’d been waiting a year for.
After double checking his jawline and upper lip for any stubble that might have been missed, he silently declared this was as good as he was going to get. His aftershave was still making his skin tingle. He’d stopped at his regular barber on the way in for a shave and to make sure his salt-and-pepper hair was nice and trim. He wanted to make a good impression when he arrived for his lunch date.
It was a beautiful March day outside in St. Petersburg, Florida—sunny but not too hot—and that was perfect weather for the occasion.
Stepping back into his office, he strode over to his desk where he locked away his handgun, which was normally on his hip, in the top drawer. He wouldn’t be needing it today and always had several weapons available in his truck for emergencies. If they were too far away when he needed one, his special-ops training had taught him how to use normal, everyday items to defend himself if necessary.
Grabbing his cell phone, wallet, and keys, he put each in its appropriate pocket. The last thing he picked up was the bouquet of two dozen long-stem, pink roses—he’d done a discreet inquiry and found out it was his date’s favorite color.
After a quick glance around to make certain he hadn’t forgotten anything, he headed for the closed door that led to the reception area. Opening it, he almost tripped over a massive beast lying on the floor, blocking his exit. Chase grabbed the jamb to keep from tumbling to the ground. “Meat! Damn it, dog, I love ya, but one of these days you’re going to send me to the freaking emergency room. If that happens, it’s coming out of Tuff’s pay.”
The brawny, tan-and-white pit bull was a frequent visitor to the security company’s headquarters. In fact, he’d been there all week since his owners, Jason “Tuff” Tanner, one of Chase’s operatives, and his girlfriend, Concetta “Chet” Sanchez were away on vacation and due back tomorrow. Bianca “Gordo” Gordon, BHS’s resident computer hacker was dog-sitting for them and had brought Meat to work with her each day. The big mush had made himself at home, wandering around and plopping down for a nap wherever he felt like it. The former rescue was now a hero, after he’d helped save Chet and her mother from a gang member with a gun, and was welcome anytime at BHS—as long as he didn’t have any lamb for breakfast. His farts could clear out the entire floor when he ate that stuff.
“Whoa, boss! Check you out. Damn, who knew you cleaned up that well?” Gordo whistled then grinned as she looked him up and down from where she stood in front of the reception desk, which was manned by Shannon Daly, the woman who kept the office running smoothly. “Who are the roses for?”
Side-stepping Meat, who’d sat up looking for a treat or an ear scratch—Chase gave him the latter—he responded, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a date. Irv’s in charge for the rest of the day.”
“A date? A Tuesday lunch date with, what . . . two dozen roses?” She raised her eyebrows at Shannon, hoping the middle-aged woman would provide a few more details. “So, who is she?”
His petite, brown-haired receptionist shook her head. “Don’t look at me.”
“You don’t know who his date is with?” Gordo’s incredulous tone said she didn’t believe it for a second.
“I didn’t say that. Of course I know, but I’m not at liberty to discuss it, and I like my job too much to say anything more.”
Chase chuckled. Short of committing espionage, embezzlement, or murder, Shannon’s employment was pretty much guaranteed until she decided to retire. He also hoped that wouldn’t happen until he, himself, was ready to retire. The woman was a godsend, and the place would probably fall apart without her. He also knew his secrets were safe with her—at least the ones he was willing to share with her. In his business, there were a lot of things he couldn’t talk about with anybody who wasn’t directly involved.
Lance Irving, Chase’s second-in-command, exited his own office, and Gordo glared at him. “Let me guess, you know who his date is with and you’re not telling either.”
Snorting, Irv handed Shannon a file. “How long have you known me, Gordo?”
The computer geek sighed and rolled her eyes. “Long enough to know you’re tight-lipped too.”
A lightbulb seemed to go off in her intelligent mind as her eyes lit up, and she stood a little straighter, but Chase held up his hand, cutting off the idea he knew had just popped into her head. “Don’t even bother. The information isn’t on my schedule, so don’t go through the backdoor again to snoop around. And if I find out you hacked into my phones or tracked me, there will be hell to pay.”
“Shit, you’re no fun when you’re dressed like a hottie. C’mon, Meat. Let’s go.” The pit bull happily followed her into the hallway as she stomped back to her war-room.
Shaking his head, Chase turned to Irv. “Anything I need to know about before I leave?”
“Nope. Everything’s covered. Have a good time.”
“Thanks. Shannon—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “Hold all your calls for the rest of the day. Now get out of here and have fun.” She gave him a wink and then shooed him away with her hands.
Taking a deep breath, he let it out then started for the elevator that would take him to the underground parking garage. As he waited for the sliding doors to open, he checked his watch. He was actually running early, but that was fine. The last thing he wanted was to be late and disappoint his date—she was far too special for that.
Chapter Two
“Mommy, hurry, he’s going to be here soon,” seven-year-old
Mackenzie Hart pleaded to Rylie, who was attaching the custom-made French braid with bobby pins to the little girl’s short, blonde hair.
“I’m almost done Mickey—stop fidgeting.”
“I can’t help it. The butterflies are doing funny things to my tummy again.”
Rylie smiled as she checked to make certain the hairpiece was secure. Her daughter had been so impatient for this day to come after finding out her bone marrow donor had agreed to meet her after the required one-year wait period following her transplant. Back then, the only thing they’d known was the man had lived somewhere on the West Coast of Florida. But after Rylie had contacted the staff at the Gift of Life Marrow Registry, a few weeks ago, and asked them to forward a thank-you letter from Mackenzie to her donor, they’d found out more about him.
Forty-two-year-old Chase Dixon was a veteran who owned a very successful, private protection and investigation business—Blackhawk Security. Although, she’d never heard of him, personally, the company name wasn’t unfamiliar to her. In fact, she passed BHS’s headquarters every day on her way to work.
Rylie was a business owner too—it was a title she’d inherited from her father when he’d passed away a year after she’d adopted Mackenzie, who’d been three at the time. As a teenager, Rylie had started working at By the Bay Property Management from the ground up—her first job was in housekeeping. The Tampa/St. Petersburg area had plenty of rental homes and apartments, some of which were leased on a yearly basis, while others were seasonal. She employed a staff of over thirty full- and part-timers, who maintained the properties and arranged to rent them out. While the seven office staff members worked mostly during the week, the housekeepers were busiest over the weekends, prepping the rentals for the incoming vacationers. Plumbers, electricians, and other maintenance workers were used on a contracted, as-needed basis. Thanks to her great staff, she’d been able to take the week off since Mickey was home from school for Spring Break.
Four years ago, Rylie had unexpectedly become a mom when Mackenzie’s biological mother had died, tragically. Not only had Emma Hart been Rylie Hart’s best friend since elementary school, she’d also been her third cousin. At first, they’d thought it had been a quirk of fate that they shared the same last name, but during a genealogy project in high school, they’d found out their great grandfathers had been brothers. Being related, even distantly, had only made their friendship stronger. In fact, many people had often mistaken them for sisters.
Shortly after giving birth, Emma had asked Rylie to adopt Mackenzie if anything ever happened to her and had added the directive to her will. She’d had no siblings or close family members, nor had Mackenzie’s father been a part of her life. He’d been a first names-only, one-night stand Emma had not been proud of, but, after her daughter’s birth, she’d never regretted it either. While she’d tried to track him down at first, she’d never been able to locate him and had raised Mackenzie on her own. Then Emma had been killed in a car accident one morning, after dropping her daughter off at childcare on her way to work. In that instant, thirty-two-year-old Rylie had gone from being a godmother to being a parent, and six months later, it’d become legal.
It hadn’t been easy transitioning from aunt to mother, but Rylie had somehow managed to do it. For over two years, there had been a few hiccups along the way but nothing major, until the day her world came screeching to a halt once again. Just before the start of kindergarten, Rylie had taken Mackenzie to her pediatrician because of unexplained fatigue and dizziness, following a few days of chronic nosebleeds. Dr. Cho had ordered several blood tests. The next day, she’d delivered the bad news Rylie had never expected—her adopted daughter had leukemia.
With the support of friends and her staff at By the Bay, Rylie had been able to devote all her attention to helping Mackenzie get through the first round of chemo. Seeing the little girl suffer through nausea, vomiting, mouth sores, and hair loss, among other side effects, had caused Rylie to cry herself to sleep on more than one occasion. At the end of the treatment, the oncologists declared Mackenzie to be in remission, but that had been short-lived. Thirteen months later, the cancer was back, and Rylie had been told the best chance her daughter had for survival was a bone marrow transplant. Unfortunately, Rylie hadn’t had the correct blood type, otherwise she would’ve donated her marrow without hesitation. With no blood relatives as a match, Mackenzie had been placed on the national registry, in the hope an eligible donor could be found. In the meantime, she’d endured another round of chemotherapy while they waited for a miracle. Two months later, that miracle had happened, in the form of a man named Chase Dixon, who’d participated in a local bone-marrow donor drive that’d been organized by several of Rylie’s friends.
Today, they’d be meeting Mr. Dixon for the first time. Rylie’s next-door-neighbor, Aubrey Young, was a professional photographer and had arranged a special photo shoot to celebrate the occasion. The backyard was all set up for the event, which had been inspired by a similar photo session between a police officer and a little girl, whose life he’d once saved, that had gone viral on the internet. The theme was a tea party, and Mackenzie was wearing a pretty dress in her favorite color pink.
At first, Mr. Dixon had politely declined to participate in the photo shoot but had relented when promised the images would be kept private and not posted on the internet. Rylie had understood the nature of his business could be hampered by unwanted publicity. She’d only communicated with the man via group emails that had also included Aubrey and Claire Beasley, from the Gift of Life Marrow Registry, who’d arranged the connection between him and Rylie. While he may not have wanted the photos of him and Mackenzie to be put online, Rylie had still been able to find several pictures of the good-looking man, most of which had to do with his business. He was tall and well-built, with salt-and-pepper hair and what she thought were green eyes. He probably had women drooling all over him wherever he went. But that didn’t matter to Rylie—she wasn’t looking to date him, since she didn’t have time to date any man at the moment. What did matter, though, was he’d saved Mackenzie’s life and was doing something incredibly sweet for her today.
“I think Mr. Dixon just pulled up, Mickey,” Claire announced as she stepped into the bathroom’s doorway. The middle-aged woman had graciously accepted when Rylie had invited her along to see her two clients meet for the first time.
In the reflection in the mirror, Rylie saw Mackenzie’s eyes widen. “Yay!” She spun around. “Do I look okay?”
Bending down, Rylie tweaked her daughter’s nose. “You look beautiful. I’m sure Mr. Dixon will think so too.”
When the doorbell rang, Mackenzie rushed past Claire and down the hallway. Rylie had just managed to catch up by the time the little girl swung open the front door and looked up . . . and up . . . and up. Holy crap, the man was huge. He had to be about six foot three, nine inches taller than Rylie, and with his broad shoulders, he looked like a mountain dressed in a very nice suit, as he smiled down at Mackenzie. Squatting down to her level, his baritone voice rumbled. “You must be Mackenzie. These are for you.”
He held out a bouquet of two dozen pink roses, but Mackenzie didn’t take them. Instead, she closed the distance between them, threw her little arms around his neck, and started bawling. “Th-thank you for saving me!”
At first, the man seemed startled, but then his expression softened, and he put his arms around her. Holding her close, he whispered a few things into her ear that had her nodding her head against his shoulder. Rylie’s eyes filled with tears, and Claire handed her a tissue before wiping her own wet cheeks.
After a few moments, Mr. Dixon stood with Mackenzie in his strong arms and stepped into the foyer, using his foot to close the door behind him. Over her shoulder, he smiled at the two women. Rylie stepped forward and took the flowers from him. “Hi, Mr. Dixon, I’m Rylie Hart, and this . . .” She stroked her daughter’s back. “. . . is, obviously, Mackenzie. Oh, and this is Claire Beasley from Gift of Life.”
/>
“Please, call me Chase, and it’s a pleasure to meet all of you.”
Mackenzie pulled back until she could see his face. Her eyes were still wet, but the tears had stopped flowing. “You can call me Mickey, Mr. Dixon. Everybody does.”
The man’s chin dipped once. “Okay, Mickey it is. And you can call me Chase too.”
“Really?”
“Really. Since we’re now blood related, in a way, there’s no need to be formal.”
When he set her down on her feet, she grabbed his hand and tugged. “C’mon, Chase! Wait ’til you see the tea party in the backyard!”
“Easy, Mickey. There’s no rush,” Rylie admonished, but Chase just grinned, gave her a wink, and allowed her daughter to lead him through the kitchen and out the back door.
Claire and Rylie followed, and the latter giggled when the other woman fanned her face and mouthed, “Wow!” Yup, the man was even more panty-melting in person.
Chapter Three
Chase was in love. From the moment Mickey had thrown her arms around his neck, sobbing and thanking him for saving her life, he’d been a goner. He’d even gotten a little choked up but had managed to keep his composure. While she’d clung to him, he’d whispered that seeing her healthy and happy had been all the thanks he’d ever need. He’d continued to murmur things like, “I’m so glad I could help,” and “You’re a strong and beautiful, young lady, and I’m so proud you beat your cancer,” until she’d finally pulled herself together again. He, honestly, hadn’t expected such an emotional reaction from her, but then he also hadn’t expected his own reaction to meeting her mother. The chestnut-haired, brown-eyed woman had a girl-next-door, wholesome look to her, with curves that definitely enticed his libido, but he had no doubt she was a fierce warrior when it came to protecting her daughter.
Blood Bound (Blackhawk Security Book 2) Page 1