Blood Bound (Blackhawk Security Book 2)

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Blood Bound (Blackhawk Security Book 2) Page 8

by Samantha A. Cole


  Sighing, Chase detoured to one of the water coolers and filled a cup with water before guzzling it down. The rest of his workout and a shower would have to wait a bit. His head computer geek wouldn’t demand his presence this early in the morning unless it was necessary. He hoped it meant she and her team had tracked down who’d opened the Dropbox file containing the photos of Rylie and Mickey. Although, with details happening all around the world, it could be any number of reasons why she needed him.

  Since he only had to go up one flight, he took the stairs. On his way, he thought back to yesterday. After assuring Rylie he’d do everything he could to protect her and Mickey, he’d ended up staying for the day. While Rylie had distracted herself with laundry, changing the bed linens, dusting, and vacuuming, Chase had helped Mickey with her homework and reviewed her book report. He’d then run out to the store to get the fixings for an evening barbecue after Rylie suggested they feed his operatives watching over them and invite her friend, Aubrey, and Peanut to join them. By that time, Boots, Tuff, and Meat had been relieved by the next shift, and Chase had introduced everyone to Whitney Harrell and Zeke Lyons. Neither operative had a nickname they normally went by, much to Mickey’s disappointment. Zeke had told her, after she got to know him better, she could suggest one for him. That had instantly brought a smile back to her face. She’d spent the rest of the evening trying to teach Peanut the German commands she’d learned from Tuff. However, the Jack Russell terrier hadn’t seemed interested in the impromptu lessons.

  After dinner, when Chase was finally alone again with just Rylie and Mickey, both females had been yawning nonstop. It had been an exhausting day for everyone. Before leaving them to get some rest, Chase had reassured Rylie his operatives would remain on duty, watching over them, and, as soon as he had information about whomever had ordered the DNA test, he’d let her know. As of this morning, two of his employees would be assigned to Mickey while she was at school. Rylie was going to talk to the principal about a possible threat to her daughter and the need for her two bodyguards. The operatives, Dusty and Reaper, would remain outside the school but stay vigilant about anyone on the property who looked out of place. They’d also put a tracking device in a Hello Kitty pin on her shirt in case there was any trouble. It had a microphone too for optional sound.

  As for Rylie, she had two guards assigned to her as well—in about an hour, Tuff, Boots, and Meat would be watching over her as she went about her day. She hadn’t been happy about it, since she doubted there was a threat to her, just to Mickey, but she’d finally relented when Chase had promised they wouldn’t interfere with her work or errands. “Better safe than sorry,” he’d told her.

  In spite of the fact Chase had wanted to stay and just hold Rylie throughout the night, it was still too early in their relationship for that. Hell, they still hadn’t even had a one-on-one date yet. With everything going on, it hadn’t been appropriate to bring the subject up again. But as long as he could see her and talk to her on the phone, he was content—for now.

  Striding into the war-room, Chase stopped next to Gordo who was typing away on her keyboard. “Hey, boss, one second . . . okay. So, the Dropbox file was finally opened on a computer at some law firm, Drake, Jansen, and Fairbanks—”

  “Shit.” He wiped a frustrated hand down his face.

  Gordo’s brow shot up. “You know them?”

  “Tuff had a run-in at Rylie’s place with one of their lackeys. He was there to serve her with a summons for a DNA test on Mickey.” After Rylie and Mickey’s visit to drop off cookies, word had spread around the office about Mickey’s declaration to anyone who would listen, on her way to the elevator, that Chase was her hero and why. It hadn’t taken long for Gordo to find out, and she was now fiercely protective of the little girl she hadn’t met yet.

  “DNA test? Why?”

  “Mickey is Rylie’s adopted daughter.” He hated giving out personal information about them, but, if his staff was going to help them, they need all the intel available to do their jobs correctly. Besides, he trusted them to keep their mouths shut if need be. “Her birth mother was Rylie’s best friend who passed away, giving full custody to her in her will. The father was never in the picture.”

  “So, he’s just popping up all these years later and wants to be a dad?”

  He knew that didn’t sit well with Gordo, since her own father had been a deadbeat who’d left his family high and dry, when she was eight, to run off and marry his secretary. Before her mother could sue for child support, the newlyweds had vanished on their honeymoon in the Dominican Republic. When they’d failed to check out at the end of the week, the hotel staff found all their belongings, minus cell phones and wallets, in their room. They were reported missing and their disappearance was still an unsolved mystery as no sign of them, dead or alive, had been found. After two years, they’d been declared deceased by their respective families and the courts. When she’d reached eighteen, Gordo officially changed her surname to her mother’s maiden name.

  “I don’t know,” Chase responded. “Maybe he didn’t know about Mickey back then?”

  “Well, then how did he suddenly find out, now, if her biological mother’s dead?”

  Unable to answer the question, he shook his head. “That’s one of the many puzzles we need to solve. Got anything else for me?”

  They spent the next five minutes going over updates on a few current cases and operations. Nothing she reported was out of the ordinary or needed his immediate attention. “Give Irv a sit-rep on the Sudan mission as soon as he gets in. Everything else can wait for the morning briefing.”

  Exiting the war-room, he glanced at his watch. He could get in a half hour run on the treadmill before he had to take a shower and meet up with Rylie at Mickey’s school. He wanted to introduce himself to the principal and make sure there’d be no issues with his operatives on the school property, especially since they were carrying licensed concealed weapons. If there was a problem, they’d have to park off-site but within view of the building. Either way, Chase would also need to inform the St. Petersburg PD his team was on a protection detail in the area in case someone called 9-1-1 on them.

  Two hours later, despite the reasons behind why he was about to see Rylie, he was looking forward to having her close again, even for a short time. Somehow, someway, he had to make certain this DNA thing ended well for her and Mickey. Once that was taken care of, he could get back to seducing Rylie into his bed. He had a feeling when that happened, he was never going to want to let her go.

  Rylie didn’t want to leave the school. She wanted to snatch Mickey up and run away with her, but that was an unrealistic option—at least at the moment. If it came down to that, though, she wouldn’t hesitate to go on the lam. Despite being exhausted last night, she’d barely slept a wink. While she knew two of Chase’s men had been watching the house all night, it hadn’t kept her from getting up numerous times and double and triple checking the doors and windows to make sure they were locked. For the first time in her adult life, she contemplated getting a security system and maybe a huge dog like Meat. While Tuff’s canine partner had been a big, adorable, goofy lug yesterday, playing with Mickey, Rylie didn’t doubt for a second the dog would become a fierce protector in a split second if the situation called for it.

  “Rylie.”

  Chase’s voice broke through her mental fog. She hadn’t realized she was still standing in the hallway, staring at the spot Mickey had been moments before. But the children were now sequestered behind their respective classroom doors and the hall was empty except for her and Chase. He held out his hand. “C’mon. She’ll be fine. Tuff and Boots will bring her to my office after school—she can do her homework there. When you’re done with work, we’ll meet you somewhere for dinner, okay?”

  Unfortunately, at four thirty this afternoon, she was meeting a new client who owned several vacation homes in the area. He was looking for a new management company for his rentals, and it was too good a contract to
screw around with by requesting a time change for them to meet. While Aubrey usually helped out by getting Mickey off the bus and minding her until Rylie got home on days she had to work late, with everything going on, Rylie had been grateful for Chase’s offer to watch her for a few hours at BHS headquarters.

  Swallowing hard, she placed her hand in his and nodded before letting him lead her out to the parking lot. Tuff, Boots, and Meat were in a black SUV, just outside the entrance to the lot, off the school’s property. While the principal had understood and sympathized with the need for Mickey’s bodyguards, she couldn’t allow civilians on school grounds with weapons. She’d assured Rylie and Chase that all the entrance/exit doors to the building, except the main one at the front, were locked and could only be opened from inside. If that happened, an alert would sound in the principal’s office. She’d promised that if it went off, she or the school secretary would call the number Chase had given her for Tuff’s cell phone before investigating the open door. The school had its own armed security as well—one active-duty St. Petersburg PD resource officer and one retired detective—who’d also been filled in on what was going on.

  There was only one vehicle entrance/exit to the parking lot, so anyone driving onto the property would have to pass right by Tuff and Boots. They were also monitoring the audio transmissions coming from the pin they’d given Mickey to wear this morning. She’d loved it and hadn’t realized it was actually a device that could be used to track her if she were lost or taken.

  All those precautions had helped ease Rylie’s worry—if only a tiny bit. After she got to work, she had to make the dreaded phone call to the lab to set up the DNA test for Mickey. While she hoped there was some inane, benign reason for someone wanting to have the results, the only thing she could think of was Mickey’s biological father had found out she existed. Had Emma lied to Rylie all those years ago? Had she known who the father was but had kept the information from him and everyone else?

  Rylie sighed. She had dozens of questions and not a single answer.

  “Hey, c’mere,” Chase said, pulling her into his arms and wrapping them around her. She hadn’t realized they’d reached the parking lot and were standing next to her vehicle.

  Although she’d been trying to hold it together, she couldn’t stop the sob that escaped her or the tears that followed. Chase cupped the back of her head and rocked her slowly, letting her get it all out. “Shh, baby. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got some of the best lawyers in Florida working for me. No one is going to take Mickey away from you on my watch. No way, no how.”

  While she appreciated his words of comfort, they still weren’t enough to convince her it wouldn’t end badly for everyone involved.

  After taking a few moments to collect herself, she straightened her shoulders and took a step back so she could look up into Chase’s handsome face. She would be forever grateful for all this wonderful man had done for them and continued to do. How she wished they didn’t have this cloud of dread hanging over them as they tested the waters of a new relationship, but it was what it was, as the saying went.

  She set her hands on his broad, hard chest, wishing she could see what he looked like without a shirt on, but now was not the time. “Thank you for everything.”

  Leaning down, he gave her a gentle but firm kiss, one that promised more when they found time to be alone. “My pleasure, sweetheart. Call me when you know what time the lab appointment is, so I can clear my schedule to go with you.”

  She might be relying too much on him at the moment, but she didn’t turn down his offer. She needed someone to lean on during this mess, and Chase wasn’t running away from it. If she weren’t careful, she’d fall in love with the man before she knew what hit her.

  Chapter Twelve

  With Dusty and Reaper sitting at a table next to them, Chase, Rylie, and Mickey shared a pepperoni pie at the young girl’s favorite pizzeria. She was animated as she told them that, when she’d waved at her bodyguards during recess, from behind the playground’s fence, Tuff had climbed out of the SUV with Meat, so she could say hello. A bunch of the kids had gone over and watched in awe as Mickey had given the dog several German commands, which he’d dutifully obeyed. Apparently, the big mush had been a hit with everyone and had been disappointed when the children had gone back inside to finish their classes. The dog had a helluva personality and often made those around him laugh at his antics. It was amazing to think he’d come out of a dog-fighting situation with only a few small physical scars and a large dose of distrust that’d disappeared with time and love from his new extended family.

  As Chase washed down the last bite of his second slice, his silenced cell phone vibrated on his hip. After a quick glance at the screen, he excused himself, stood, and stepped outside before connecting the call. “What’s up, Ian?”

  “That judge has got to be the biggest horse’s ass around.”

  Chase chuckled. “What, no twat name for him?”

  “A twat name is too good for a pompous fuckwad like him. I wouldn’t waste any insult from my twat-roster on him.”

  “So, I take it that means you didn’t find out who’s behind the court order.” He’d gone through Ian so there was nothing obvious linking the inquiry back to BHS.

  “Did I say that? No, I didn’t. Patience, my friend. While I couldn’t get any answers out of Bernstein, the fudge, I know someone who’s related to someone in the court’s record department.” That was as much info as Ian would give him, not wanting to risk getting the person fired, and Chase was fine with that. He had plenty of his own snitches who he fiercely protected. “Does the name Lloyd Ashford ring a bell?”

  “As in former Senator Lloyd Ashford?”

  “One and the same. Looks like he and his wife want custody of their only grandchild.”

  Stunned by the news, Chase absentmindedly watched Rylie and Mickey splitting the last slice of pizza on the other side of the large plate-glass window. “Explain.”

  “Not sure if you remember, but about seven months ago, their son, an only child, was killed in a rollover after he led state troopers on a five-mile, high-speed chase in his Porsche nine-eleven. His blood alcohol level was four times the legal limit—it was a wonder he could even see the road.”

  Now that Ian mentioned it, Chase did recall the incident. While two other vehicles had been involved in the crash, thirty-eight-year-old Warren Ashford had been the only fatality when he blew through a stop sign doing over seventy miles per hour. His parents were trying to sue the state police over his death, but it was doubtful they’d win due to the circumstances. “Didn’t they find cocaine in his system too?”

  “Yup. Anyway, from what I can figure from the paperwork filed with the court, dearly departed Warren fathered Mickey during a very, and I stress very, brief affair with one Emma Hart—probably a one-night stand. Apparently, he denied being the father at the time, and Emma never tried to get child support. My guess is either the senator or Warren threatened her in some way, and, instead of risking losing her child, Emma stayed quiet about Mickey’s parentage and raised her on her own.”

  “And now that their son is dead, they’re looking for a replacement,” Chase said, agreeing with Ian’s line of thinking.

  “That was my conclusion too. In the court documents, it said that if Mickey’s their granddaughter, they’ll be seeking full custody.”

  He huffed out a heavy sigh. “Well, shit. This isn’t going to go over well with Rylie. I’ll wait until after Mickey’s in bed to tell her.”

  “I hope you’re ready for a fight, my friend, because Ashford is going to try and put her through the wringer. Make sure there’s nothing in her past he could dig up and use against her.”

  And wasn’t that the truth? The man had played dirty during his election years and time in the senate. He loved to have things tried in the media, leaking as much info as he could get away with to stir the proverbial pot. Chase doubted there was something in Rylie’s past that might be a problem in
most situations, but Ashford and his shyster lawyers could put a bad spin on just about anything if it helped their cause. Thankfully, Chase had his own attorneys who were very good at what they did. He paid them handsomely to do their best.

  “Good thing I never back down from a fight. It’s been a while since I’ve brought a douchebag down a few notches. Can you forward that report to me?”

  “I’ll have Colleen fax it to Shannon first thing in the morning. And, hey, if you need backup, I’m a phone call away. I haven’t beaten the crap out of anyone in about three weeks, and I’m getting antsy.”

  “You’re always on speed dial. Thanks, Ian. I owe you.”

  “And I’m sure I’ll be collecting sometime in the near future.” The two men helped each other out so often, they’d lost count on who owed whom what. Like Ian had said, it wouldn’t be long before he needed Chase’s help with one thing or another. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. Angie’s putting dinner on the table.”

  “Give her and Peyton a hug for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Chase disconnected the call and glanced through the window again. Dusty and Reaper were standing next to the table, entertaining Mickey, while Rylie stared out at him, concern etched on her pretty face. He pasted on a reassuring smile and strode toward the door. Once Mickey was tucked into bed, Chase would break the news to Rylie.

  God, it sucked to be him right now.

  As they sat on her couch, Rylie gaped at Chase in disbelief as panic threatened to drown her under a heavy cloak of terror. She’d already accepted the fact that someone out there might be related to Mickey on her absent father’s side. But having that man be the son of a prominent former senator, with more political connections than she ever wanted to know was a slap of reality in the face. They had more money than God, and she couldn’t afford a high-priced lawyer to fight them if that’s what it all came down to.

 

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